#idk how arthur is always like: a woman this a woman that

[paxerle]

saw your oc and not surprised that it’s a child. no wonder aoex fandom has so much pedos in it that have child characters. go and delete yourself

okay normally I don’t answer on those hate messages but this one is personal so I try my best to explain what happened to me somehow idk my English is not the best and I’m not used to talk about personal stuff online.

🌼

Hi! My name is Pax and I’m receiving hate messages since I started posting art of my favorite character from Blue Exorcist.

At first it was only on twitter. I started posting around a year ago and then people sent me messages like how they hate Arthur. I wasn’t used to be part of a fandom so I thought it was kinda normal. I just blocked the people and yes it became calmer after that. Then it started on tumblr too. I love to get questions where I can draw something in return but I also got anon questions that are just rude or weird. Luckily you can block anons too but somehow they always come back to me after a small amount of time and tbh idk what I do wrong.

I am ignoring, deleting and blocking those all the time. Don’t get me wrong I really don’t care much but saying stuff like I’m a pedo is WRONG just because I have a child OC. I’ve never drawn him in any romantic way and I’ll never do. I don’t even think about that. Why should I? OCs are often like own children and my oc Kingo is like my own son. He was originally created for a roleplay where Arthur decided to adopt him after a lot of things happened to him. They are only father and son and they love each other because Arthur is trying to be a really good dad like he always trying to do his best with no matter what he do. The point is Kingo became my OC after I got the diagnosis that I’d never be able to get own children after trying it for 4 years. It was my dream even if a lot of people couldn’t imagine how important it can be for a woman who really wants this. I build a house where everything should be safe for my future child. Getting this result of all my tests and my health conditions was a shock I’ll never get fully over it even if I pretend. My relationship broke after 8 years and I never felt so useless.

This is the reason why I created my OC Kingo. Not because I am a pedo or something wtf. It was because I found consolation in having a fictional son and that he has a family that cares about him. Thats why Kingo will always be a very special OC and I get very emotional when it comes to him.

I know I don’t need to explain myself and who the fuck is gonna read that text hmm but yes. Stop hating me I just wanna do art. Nothing more. You’re annoying go out and do something nice instead of hating each other ✨

[vole-mon-amour]

Me the entire time I play RDR2: Which man to ship Arthur with? Which man deserves to be shipped with Arthur?

[portugalisinsa]

#going into the tags hoping i'd see some book reccs but its all discourse ;w;#well i'm not gonna claim these are all highly intellectual works but here's some of my fave adult fantasies#tainted cup by robert jackson bennett#the thief by megan whalen turner#winnowing flame trilogy by jen williams#locked tomb series by tamsym muir#goblin emperor and witness for the dead by katherine addison#a natural history of dragons by marie brennan#the mountain in the sea by Ray Naylor#god killer by hannah kaner#temeraire and scholomance by naomi novik#october daye by seanan mcguire#i'm also getting into t kingfisher books :)#gods of wyrdwood by r j barker was also good#i really need to find more books by non-white authors tho

No babe it’s so cool and hot that you always insist that fantasy books written to meet a 4th graders’ comprehension skills have more complex themes and a greater sense of praxis than anything written for adults

[messrmoonyy]

- Give me my sin again

Arthur Morgan x Female reader

Request- " if Arthur has a secret lover that he tells no one about and he goes to see her when he can after jobs maybe.shes so kind and devout and good that he thinks he doesn't deserve her. But he be besotted with her obsessed to worship the ground she walks on. Arthur not believing in anything but finding this good woman and wanting to be good for her but maybe knowing he can't

A/N- this is mostly a kind of dive into Arthur's head I like it idk. I also paired this with a request I had about bathing Arthur. It kinda fits. Anyway this is a lil shorter than I normally write but life had been lifing lately Imao. And this got me back into writing something for the first time in a lil bit so! Do enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | some religious imagery, a small chunk of smut right near the end (oral, R receiving) { wc- 3.4k}

Masterlist | AO3

Arthur was not a good man . He feared he never had been. Not really. No matter how many people could try convince him otherwise. He wasn’t. He was bad. He did bad things. A good man didn’t murder, rob, manipulate.

He was no saint. So incredibly far from it.

And yet with you? Well… he felt he could be.

You with your delicate hands that soothed his bruised and battered skin, your voice like that of an angel on his shoulder that spoke to him with an airy tenderness that he did not deserve.

He was not a holy man. And yet for you he would renounce all sin and drop to his knees to beg for forgiveness and retribution. The only deity worth worshipping in his eyes. His slice of heaven always waiting to chase the darkness from his mind. If just for a few hours.

He was drawn to you like there was something mystical in your words, hypnotising him, controlling him, luring him in with nothing but a smile. He would find himself stumbling his way to your door, just to drop down at your feet and beg. Beg for you to erase his sins and show him grace, Allow him the privilege of being in your presence for a while. Because in that awful, terrible world he’d found himself in… nothing felt right but you.

And so there he was again. At your door. Standing there in the rain as he waited for you to answer. His knuckles bruised on the wood in the night, praying you’d be awake, two rabbits slung over his shoulder. As if they could be excuse enough to spend more time with you.

That he had brought you supplies. And that of course he wouldn’t mind skinning them for you. No it really wasn’t a bother.

Though deep down he knew he didn’t need an excuse. That you would always welcome him in with open arms and at times had even begged him not to leave again. But he always felt like he needed the excuse… maybe more to convince himself of something rather than you.

He knocked again. Hoping, praying you were still awake.

And you were. As if you’d been waiting. Maybe you had. But probably not. It has been weeks. 3. 4? He wasn’t sure. But weeks . Weeks that had felt like some kind of condemnation for his sins, being punished by having to stay away. Dutch in one ear, Strauss in the other. A gaggle of others behind him.

Like some guard dog sent out to attack. Kill. Rob. Threaten. And he was tired. Exhausted. He’d no chance to slip away, no chance to sneak his way to your cabin.

But he was there now.

And so were you.

“ Arthur” you looked ethereal. Stood there in the doorway, backlit by the lamp in the room behind you. You didn’t sound surprised to see him. More relieved than anything.

He knew he worried you. Knew you must be sick with it when he went away for weeks on end, no sign he was alive other than another article on the front of the paper about Dutch and the gang robbing something or other.

He walked in as you stepped aside, standing in the warmth of your small home. He’d arranged it for you some time back. Some place to keep you safe.

“ I missed you “ you said, your arms wrapping around his rain soaked torso. Your head resting against his chest, breathing out like you had just received your first gasp of air after being held underwater for too long.

“ I missed you too “ he murmured, his free arm wrapping around you. Strong. Secure. Steady. You were grounding, dragging him out of a haze he had been stuck in to coax him back to reality “ brought you these “ he said, his voice low. Gruff even. He felt like he couldn’t raise his voice in there. That if he did the illusion would shatter and he’d wake up in his tent. All of it some cruel dream to taunt him.

“ thank you “ you said, your voice soft “ I’ll skin them later “ that made Arthur smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. The first in 4 weeks.

“ darlin’ I’ve seen the way you skin game. I ain’t lettin’ you anywhere near ‘em you’ll butcher the damn things “ his voice was gentle with his teasing, but it was true. He’d once left you to it, letting you skin the game he’d brought you. Only to return to what looked like a massacre had taken place on your kitchen table “ I’ll do it “

You laughed a little yourself and nodded

“ yeah I… I ain’t the best huh “ he dropped the rabbits on the table and then turned back to you, he needed to be close to you again.

“ I really did miss ya “ he murmured, reaching out to tuck his fingers under your chin so you’d look up at him “ sorry I ain’t been around much “

He looked down at you, just looking. Admiring. You were so beautiful . So unbelievably gorgeous that it made his heart ache. So beautiful that even death would hesitate to pluck you up into his waiting arms. Because to remove you from the earth would be too vicious even for him, to devoid the planet of such beauty would be low even by his standards.

“ where y’been? “ you asked softly, leaning into his touch “ doin’ bad things again? “

“ real bad things sweetheart “ he murmured.

You never really asked him for more details. Never went delving into what dark and desperate things he found himself doing for Dutch. You'd push from time to time. But never asked anything too damning. You knew he was bad. Never asked him to confess his sins to you, you just let them lie. Let him forget them for a while whilst he was with you.

“ that mess in Valentine… was that you? “ she asked “ read about it in the papers. Claiming it was Van Der Linde boys. And I figured… that usually means you “ Arthur sighed, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him.

He didn’t deserve the way you gazed at him. The way you admired him. The way you peeled back each layer of terribleness to see the good hidden deep underneath.

“ yeah “ he didn’t attempt to lie. What was the need? You knew anyway “ Strauss took a bullet. Old bastards still breathin’ though unfortunately “ he murmured and stepped away from you. He felt tetchy. Needed to busy his hands.

You seemed to gather the point. That that was enough for now. That you didn’t need to know the who’s, the when’s, they why’s. He’d told you the vague outline. Skimmed the tale. And that was enough.

“ well… you gonna sort them rabbits f’me? I’ll cook you up somethin’ nice “ Arthur gave a small smile at your willingness to let his vague stories stay exactly that. To know he did bad things, but not wishing to know exactly what those things were.

And so you both fell into an almost domestic scene. The comfortable quiet that could settle around two people doing their own thing, two people just happy to be in each others company. Two people comfortable together.

He skinned the game as you pottered about doing something or other in the kitchen around him. It felt nice. A scene he could almost see himself having permanently.

Maybe somewhere back out west. Some little cabin or ranch, just you and him. And some sheep or chickens or… something. That damn rancher life Dutch had been harping on about for so long… but just you two.

A ring on your finger. A family. Domesticity that he never truly realised he’d craved.

But that was all some hopeless dream wasn’t it.

So he’d savour those moments for now. The quiet bliss. The escape from everything back at camp. His quiet comfortable time with you.

He finished the game, washing off his hands and placed himself behind you, arms around your waist and a gentle kiss to your cheek.

Those moments were his. His true escape and joy. When he could feel vulnerable. Affectionate.

You were the only true receiver of his affections. You brought it out of him. A constant deep desire within him to want to hold you. Kiss you. Love you. Something he usually tried to keep buried.

It was a tender scene. His chin propped on your shoulder, his arms around you. You often joked that it baffled you how this man that was so tender with you, so caring. So… soft. Was wanted dead or alive in multiple states.

His true moments of retribution came when he was with you like that. When he could hold you and be gentle. Pour out all his emotions and feelings via his actions.

Including the times when he was able to press you into your mattress. Your bed, his saving grace, his chance to truly worship every inch of you. And worship he did. Hands determined and insistent on your soft skin, mapping out your curves and edges to commit them to memory. Lips burning as they trailed your body to commit each inch to his brain.

The way your hands gripped at him, your fingernails piercing his skin and keeping him grounded. Reminding him it was all real he was sane. And the sounds you made more beautiful than any angel, whispering his name in his ear.

He always made sure to worship every part of you. Kissing in the most uncommon of places. His lips brushing your hip bone. The inside of your wrist. Each and every divet of your spine. Making sure you knew he cared. That he appreciated every second he had of you. That you weren’t some hurried little triste that he kept hidden away until he felt an itch needed to be scratched. That this side of things wasn’t a necessity. But simply just a way to prove his points.

He made sure you knew you were his everything. The one thing keeping him holding on to his morality, his one tether to the right side of things.

Afterwards he would lay there with you. Your body’s intwined and your fingers stroking through his hair. And he’d wonder when he’d get to see you again. When he’d be able to return to your arms. Missing you before he’d even left

And he desired it now.

It wasn’t even an inherently lust fuelled desire. But a desire to simply be close. To hold. To touch. To feel. To be touched in a way of care and to touch in a way that showed love not violence. To prove he could touch with love. That not everything he did needed to be violent.

So he turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands. And kissed you. Firm. But not rushed. Purposeful. His hands pulling gently at your hips to hold you flush against him. Some silent request for more.

But you held your hands firmly to his chest as he kissed you, like you could read his mind.

“ ain’t lettin’ you into my bed like this “ you said with a slight sternness to your tone that made him smile “ you look like you went swimmin’ in the swamps “ he chuckled at your words and nodded.

“ and I thought you enjoyed a rugged man “ he teased, his voice low and thick. He always spoke like he needed to be quiet with you. Like inside those four walls of your cabin if he spoke any louder he’d shatter the facade and you’d vanish.

“ rugged. Not filthy “ you teased with a smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek “ I’ll draw you a bath “

He watched you slip from his grasp, disappearing to arrange it. Simply because you wanted to. You didn’t have to. You weren’t the type to be some slave of a wife to a man that demanded everything of you. And he was not the type to be that kind of husband.

You simply just cared. Had too much care and kindness in your heart.

When it was ready you called him through. The whole thing still as quiet and calm as it had been since he’d stepped through your door.

The contrast always shocked him.

“ c’mon. Whilst it’s hot sugar “ you said softly, grabbing gently at his jacket from behind to help him shed it.

Being naked in front of you wasn’t always some lust filled moment. It was… natural. Intimate in ways different from those fuelled by sex. Vulnerable. Completely bare and unarmed. A way no one but you got to see him. A way he was certain he could never really trust anyone as much as you.

“need some time alone or ya want a hand? “ you asked softly, perching on the side of the tub. It was a little small. Or maybe he was a little big. Probably both.

He didn’t need your help not at all. But he’d take every single second he could have with you. Each tick of the clock was precious.

“ like my own personal bath girl ain’t ya darlin? “ he said with a smirk which made you smile, but roll your eyes.

“ I don’t think I’m as complimentary “ you said softly, dipping a cloth into the water to wash away the dirt and dust that came from sleeping outdoors and riding on horseback all day “ god the state of ya Arthur “ you sighed, gently washing over bruises and cuts.

You were used to that though. Arthur’s body had been littered in scars and bruises as long as he could remember.

“ ain’t nothin serious “ he said and it just made you sigh.

Your touch was so gentle against his battered skin. As if washing away all the bad he’d done in the 4 weeks between seeing you. As if he would step out of that tub and out of your door a new man, that he’d be restored to new from your gentleness alone. He could pretend at least.

“ need t’eat more “ you murmured softly, your fingers trailing down his side “ gettin’ skinny “ it felt nice to hear concern. For someone to worry about him. For someone to notice “ I do worry bout ya Arthur “ you said quietly as if reading his mind “ more so lately “

He sighed and nodded

“ I know my darlin’. I know “

“ ain’t never been this bad “

“ I know ” he glanced up at you as you ran soap suds through his hair, your fingers soft and gentle on the knots.

“ cant help feelin’ like… like one day you just ain’t gonna come back here “ he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. He knew that this was how it was. That he worried you. That he caused you so much stress and anxiety “ I knew the deal when we first met but… Arthur what the hell happened back in Blackwater? “

His jaw involuntarily tensed at the mention of Blackwater. Because Arthur didn’t really know what had happened. He’d heard different accounts. Dutch said one thing. John another. The papers something else.

All he did know, was deep down even without the evidence to prove the fact, it had something to do with Micah. Micah and his impulsive tendencies

“ darlin’ “ he sighed again “ I ain’t even sure. I weren’t there you know I weren’t “ he hung his head a little and closed his eyes for a moment “ whatever it was it was bad. And Dutch… he’s got all these plans. Ranching or god damn mangoes in Tahiti I don’t know look- “ he reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly “ whatever that mess was, I gotta help them pick up the pieces. Y’know I do “

“ yeah. I know “ you said quietly

“ but once they got enough money, they can go off and have their South Pacific dreams… and I’ll be free to go where I like. Right back here. T’you “ he didn’t quite believe it himself. And it felt cruel to say it when he truly thought about it. But some part of him felt that if he spoke it out loud, maybe it could happen.

But then again. Maybe not.

You didn’t seem convinced. Not at all. That look in your eyes that seemed filled with sadness and longing. Longing for a life he couldn’t give you. Not yet.

“ sounds like a real nice dream “ you said quietly, standing up to grab him a towel to dry off

“ it is darlin. It is. And you keep dreamin’ it cause I will make it happen. I swear it to ya I will “ he wrapped the towel around him and stepped out of the tub, placing his hands on your shoulders “ I will darlin “

You gave him a gentle smile and reached up to brush the backs of your fingers across his cheek, nodding softly

“ I’ll keep dreamin “

As was the usual he ended up in your bed again, desperate to prove his point and show you his true devotion. Purging his sins with his head between your thighs.

His fingers softly traced along your folds, spreading them gently. He groaned as he felt you quiver and twitch under his touch, the feeling and sound making him more and more insatiable. More desperate to please. His thumb ran up and pressed against your clit, rubbing firmly, almost possessively like he was trying to mark the territory as his. Watching your reactions as you squirmed below him, heavenly sounds escaping your mouth.

“ so good Arthur “

Your mewling and whining was like music to his ears, he could listen to it all day. Hearing you moan out your praises only made his tongue move faster, his efforts to bring you to climax increasing. His hands gripping your thighs, using his free hand to push your hips down gently.

It was never about him in those moments. Didn’t care for getting any kind of release himself. He just cared about you. As if doing something so selfless would free him of his vengeful, selfish ways from the last few weeks.

He circled your clit, giving you the attention you needed and wanted from him, making up for his absence with every swipe of his tongue, listening to the pretty moans you made. His tongue swiped across you again and again, licking a strip over your sensitive skin just wanting to touch you everywhere.

Your soft moans and writhing movements were enough to drive him crazy, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs.

“ m’so… Arthur I- “ you spoke brokenly, your hand patting around softly before grabbing onto his “ Arthur “ your soft whimper of his name made him groan hungrily, his fingers instantly lacing with yours

“ right here darlin. Ain’t goin no where “

He hummed softly against you, feeling your muscles tighten under his tongue. He pressed his tongue flat against you, giving a long, slow lick. He was addicted to the taste, he just wanted more of you. Like he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. He groaned softly again, the vibrations of the sound clearly doing you wonders.

He could feel your walls beginning to clench around his tongue as he thrust it inside of you,your hand squeezing down on his and you softly mewled his name over and over . And a few more flicks of his tongue was enough, your back arching from your bed with a high pitched whine. Your thighs clamping around his head making him moan against you, not stopping in his ministrations. Fervently licking and lapping until you went slack, gently pushing at his head.

“ oh Jesus “ you whispered with a soft, breathy laugh “ I don’t know how you’re so good at that “ he smirked softly and crawled back over your body, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“ you give me enough practice “ he murmured with a smile, tilting your head so that he could kiss you.

“ did you really mean what you said earlier?” You asked quietly as he pulled back, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead “ that dream. We’ll really have that some day? “

He looked down at you. So hopeful. So desperate to love and to be loved. By him. He wanted to give you the world. To hand you anything and everything you wanted and needed on a silver platter before you could even ask for it.

Deep down he wished he could. A small, tiny part of him hoping that one day he really could fulfil that desire. Be… normal. A rancher or a farm hand. You, his wife. A kid.

But a louder, stronger part of him told him he couldn’t. That he’d never really escape. That something would always be in the way. Something would always stop him.

But looking down at you, that loving hopeful look. He couldn’t tell you that.

“ yeah. Yeah darlin’ we will “

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[wobblesthecowgirl]

Hii! I literally love your page so much! If you don’t mind, could you write an Arthur x Fem reader fluff?

So I was thinking, Arthur and the reader are close friends and she has feelings for him, like I mean she is HEAD OVER HEELS for him! But she thinks that he likes Mary-Beth or something and somehow he finds out about her feelings towards him and how she thinks he likes Mary-Beth and he confronts her and is like “I don’t like her I like you” and they kiss or something idk I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD RN😭

I Only Want You.

Arthur Morgan x Femreader

I apologise for the long delay! But thank you so much for your patience and request! I hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the love! <3

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“Why not write him a letter?”

Y/n was sitting on a log with Abigail under the sun, looking out to the beautiful scenery before them on the edge of the cliff. They were discussing Arthur, a common topic between the two, and Abigail was trying to convince her friend to finally confess.

“A letter?” She tilted her head.

Abigail nodded, “Yes! I mean, you love to write, and you’re too much of a baby to speak to him about your feelings. I think a letter is perfect. You can leave it for him without seeing his face.” 

Y/n thought about it and agreed it wasn’t a bad idea at all. She could sneak into Arthur’s tent with a letter telling him everything she’s always wanted to say, and wait for a response. So, she smiled and hugged her friend tightly, before standing up quickly and making her way to her own tent to begin writing. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

This was harder than she thought. She assumed being able to sit and think carefully about what she wanted to say would be easy, but it just filled her head with more doubts. Before she could start her fourth draft, she heard a ton of horses outside and quickly hid the crumpled up pieces of paper. Most of the men were robbing a wagon and had just come back; from the cheers and laughs, she could only assume it went well. She got up from her chair and peeked her head out of her tent and almost screamed in surprise. Arthur stood right outside her tent.

“Oh! Mr Morgan, you scared me!” She laughed it off, a hand to her chest as he chuckled with her.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to tell you how the robbin’ went.”

“I assume it went well, given the smile on your face.” Y/n smiled as she looked around to the other men already cracking bottles of beer. The pair went quiet and the woman wanted to burst into a confession then and there. The sun was setting and it casted a orange glow to his face. His hat caused a small shadow over his eyes and his smile was small and earnest. The little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only made him more attractive, and his moustache had been recently trimmed. 

“Well, I best get back inside now. I’m a very busy lady.” She excused herself. He smiled a little wider and watched her close the tent, almost disappointed with their short exchange. 

After their conversation, Y/n got back to her desk and this time, the words began to spill out onto the page with ease:

Dear Arthur,

Firstly, I must apologise. I am too much of a coward to face you, so I’ve resorted to writing this letter.

The truth is, I have fallen head over heels for you. You may not agree with me, but you are a good and genuine man. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever imagine. The day you rescued me from my burning horse from the O’Driscolls, I thought my life was over. But, to my surprise, it was the start of an even better life. I truly can’t thank you enough.

I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, and that is ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin this friendship we have formed.

Yours, Y/n.

She kept re-reading it over and over again while a million what ifs ran through her head. What if he’s put off by the letter? What if he has someone already? What if he laughs at her? 

She shook her head. She had written it now, all she had to do was plant it in his tent and hide, wallow away in bed while her anxiety ate her up. She folded it and wrote his name on it before peeking her head out the tent again and tip-toeing to his tent. When she saw he wasn’t inside, she snuck in and placed the letter on his bedside table. 

Y/n felt satisfied with herself, until she saw a letter on his desk with the name ‘Mary Linton’. Her stomach dropped. Who was this Mary? Was she a lover? A relative? Feeling sick, she rushed out the tent, leaving her letter behind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You alright there, Y/n?” Tilly asked her while she zoned out. It was now night-time, and her mind was eating her up all evening. The women were sat around the fire doing what they do best: gossiping. Of course, Grimshaw or Molly hadn’t joined them, but that was always the case. 

“Hmm? Sorry, yeah I’m good.” She brushed it off, taking a big swing of whiskey. The rest of her friends spared glances at one another. Karen piped up while also taking a swig of her own whiskey, “Yeah, I ain't buying that. You’ve been sulking all evening.” 

Y/n sighed and began biting her nails out of habit, wondering if asking them about Arthur was a smart idea. But she couldn’t keep letting the question eat away at her.

“Do any of you know who Mary Linton is?”

Mary-Beth looked surprised at the question, “Mary? You don’t know?”

Her stomach dropped again. 

“No I don’t.” 

Tilly shook her head, already feeling bad for her friend. Everyone but Arthur knew that Y/n had feelings for the older man, it was a miracle the man himself hadn’t figured it out. Tilly sighed, “She used to be his woman. About ten years ago now, but her daddy didn’t like him so it didn't work out. I keep telling him to let it go.” 

There it was. Her what ifs became reality. She couldn’t hide her disappointment and took another swig of the whiskey. And another. Then another one. 

“Slow down girl! You’ll end badly!” Tilly tried to grab the bottle out her hand but she moved it out of her reach. By now, Y/n vision was hazy and her head felt light. The smell of whiskey was strong on her breath but she felt a little more relaxed at least. 

“It’s obvious Arthur likes you back.” Mary-Beth tried to help her feel better, but all she did in response was roll her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t get my hopes up.” She pouted as she finished the whiskey off. All the women were getting up and getting ready for bed but she decided to sit by the fire a little longer. Karen patted her back, “Please just take it easy. Get some rest soon.” And with that, she was left alone. She just stared into the fire, her mind restless, when she heard a twig snap. She snapped her head back and saw the root of her problems. He looked confused at her state. 

“Y/n? What are you still doing at this hour?” 

“Nothing.” She frowned, facing away from him, kicking a stone away despite being sat on the log. Arthur sat down next to her, his knee inches away from hers. 

“You smell of whiskey, doll. You been drinking too much to handle?” His voice was laced with concern, which only infuriated her more. Why care for her when he already had a woman he cared for? 

“Why do you care?” She sounded harsher than she meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her patience running thin. Maybe it was her disappointment. Either way, her response still shocked him. 

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, and her heart kept sinking lower and lower. They fell silent, and Y/n heard him reach into his pockets and took out the letter. Her eyes widened as she tried to snatch it out his hands but he raised his arm higher. 

“Just leave it Arthur!” She shouted, still trying to grab it as he kept his arm in the air, a firm hand on her shoulder to push her lightly. 

“Why are you behaving like this? I just want to talk about it.” He tried to calm her down as she stopped prying at him. 

“I know about Mary.” She stated which caused his eyes to widen slightly. He glanced at the letter before folding it and putting it back in his pocket. 

“The women gossiping again?” He chuckled a little dry, so she only hummed in response. Their gossips were never wrong though, she thought to herself. 

“That's history, love. She was only writing to me to help her brother,  but I don't like her like I used to.” Arthur grabbed her chin much to her alarm, and gently turned her to face him, before brushing a strand of hair in her face out the way. 

That damn smile. 

“I love you too. I ain't need a silly little letter, you could've told me and I would've swept you up in a heartbeat.” 

It's like time stopped. The alcohol must've gotten to her head. She must've blacked out. Died even, and seen the pearly gates. 

But when he leaned forward, and softly kissed her, she felt more awake than ever. He pulled away before she could even react, and his face was bright red. 

“Was that a bad kiss? It looks like it was.” He coughed awkwardly. 

“No…no not at all. I'm just in shock. I didn't think you actually liked me.” 

He laughed light before leaning closer again, a hand on the back of her head, “I don't like you, sweetheart. I love you.” 

This time she kissed back, harder. Months of pent up tension between the two was finally being released. It was surprising the two didn't go mad.  

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

They spent the rest of the night sitting next to the fire, holding hands, and Y/n rested her head on his chest as he held her close. His tumb traced her knuckles as she listened to his heartbeat. She felt protected, safe, warm, and comfortable. She could happily stay like that forever.

Unknown to the pair, the women of the camp were watching from a distance, with giant grins on their faces.

[adhd-merlin]

the nerds in the notes are my friends

I think one could totally write a lil' essay about misogyny and witchcraft in bbc merlin. if one were so inclined

[hauntedparkinglot]

This probably isn’t gonna come up in the show but i feel like Arthur has a massive problem with women, lol. Not in a chauvinistic sense obviously, but the entire show is haunted by women who died around him, or died inadvertently by him. Bella, Sarah, Faroe etc. The lack of women with speaking roles makes sense of course but I feel that Arthur carries a shattered saviour complex around with him.

He’s always saying he “failed”. I wonder how motivated he is by the sensibilities of his time, if he believes he “failed” as a man, as a protector. I feel like he might unconsciously have avoided forming any type of connection with women after Faroe.

Idk, I’ve been thinking about Malevolent’s relationship with gender recently. It doesn’t overtly explore anything, but there’s so many major female players, weighing heavily down on the story, but never fully emerging. I think it’s interesting that all of Arthur’s female loved ones died young, and the only women who are able to appear ‘onscreen’ are undead, or elderly. When women show up, he’s either forced to reflect on the deaths he feels guilt over. Or, he has to confront reality, he’s not a saviour or a massive failure. Here’s a woman who didn’t die young, who he can’t save, who doesn’t need him too.

And LILITH. Unknown being who might be the most powerful thing in the multiverse. Who could be running the whole fucking thing. Protecting Arthur, shielding him from death. How the tables turn.

Also the show is voiced by a single guy so, y’know.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Charles smith is usually a very quiet, reserved man. But when he hears Micah insult fem!reader (Whom charles is sweet on) for rejecting his advances, the reader pushes him away, which he responded with slapping her hard enough for her to fall down.

Charles couldn't help himself, and he tackled Micah and would have beat him to death if Arthur and John didn't pull him on.

Afterwards, after his adrenaline seems to wear off, he starts to feel pain in his knuckles. The reader pulls him aside to set his broken knuckle back into place and to wrap his hand up. She thanks him with a kiss :) fluffy, angsty, the works <3

Million Dollar Man

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader)

This was so cute. I love my followers' reqs. Also I have a near identical request after this which is kinda freaky but they are literally asking for the exact same thing and idk how to do a different spin on this so this will be for both of y'all anons whoever you are.

Warnings: Man on woman violence, then man on man

There was something about the vulgarity of a man that made you all the more appalled with them. Often when Micah would be near you, you’d have to swallow hard in fear that you might abruptly throw up on your shoes. There was nothing appealing about the man. Whenever he spoke to you, you would’ve liked to wring his neck for disturbing your peace. And his tepid attempts at flirting were described as otherwise laughable. His initial advances were turned down politely, not something you wanted to make a big deal out of. But he was consistent, so much so that your patience began to wear down with him. 

You once giggled and waved your hand dismissively, repeating reluctant no’s over and over until Micah finally got tired and left you alone. It seemed to be a ticking time bomb though, because the next time he approached you his advances would increase tenfold. Walking around freely in camp felt like walking on eggshells, and you’d often have to duck behind someone anytime you heard the familiar raspy, drawl of Micah. Your polite refusals slowly transformed into you demanding he leave you alone, hoping and praying that one of the men in camp would come over and help you get rid of him. Occasionally it’d get as bad as Micah calling you a whore, before throwing a flurry of other insults at you and storming off angrily. It was times like these you wished you were a man, so you could possess the same mass as one to hopefully beat the hell out of Micah. But your limber body provided no such abilities. 

“C’mon sweetheart, just let me take you on one date.” He invited himself over to your tent, leaning on the wagon situated behind it with crossed arms, eyeing you uncomfortably. You were sitting there with Mary-Beth, who was just as uncomfortable, and frankly scared, as you were. She offered you a sympathetic look, mouthing a “sorry” to you before averting her gaze back to her sewing. 

“Micah, for the last time, leave me alone already. I said no.” You were firm in your inflection, your body rigid and shaking out of irritation and fear. As much as you hated the man, he also intimidated you. You knew how violent he could get, and the fact remained in the back of your mind always. 

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.” He insisted, chuckling afterwards in a way that made you swallow a gag of disgust. His attempts at having a sugar sweet laugh that could seduce you were fruitless, sounding instead like the metallic screech of a train braking. 

“I could show you a real good time…” He added.

You stood at once, gathering your things to move elsewhere in camp and bidding Mary-Beth a silent farewell. You bunched your fabrics and sewing materials against your lap, moving to walk away until you felt Micah clamp his hand down on your upper arm. You tried to push him off but he was using all his strength. 

“You ain’t going nowhere.”

“Micah, you're hurting me.” You warned him, your voice inflected with actual fear. It wasn’t so much the pain but the act of him holding onto you that felt so awful, the knowledge that he was the one in control of the situation. You weren’t sure, despite his violent streak, if he’d actually hit you right now. But he definitely wasn’t opposed to using applied force.

“This is the last time you say no to me, you hear?!” He yanked you towards him by the arm, looking to Mary-Beth, who had already gone up and left to retrieve someone for help. When your chest met his, you dropped your materials and instinctively put up your arm between the two of you, your elbow acting as a protective barrier. You shoved as hard as you could, just barely managing to push him off of you. 

“Let me go you fucking creep!”

Before you could even register him stepping forward, he delivered a heavy slap to your face. Your body jerked to one side from the force of the slap causing you to fall on your hip. You raised your elbow once again to protect yourself from the fall, promptly moving to cup your stinging cheek. You were seething at this point. 

“What the fuck?!” Your voice trembled in your rage, squeezing your eyes hard with each blink so as to not allow tears to escape. You dare not look up at him again in fear, only staring at the ground beneath you. You hoped to god people from around camp had noticed by now. 

God himself seemed to have answered your prayers, because not a second later you turned to see Micah tackled by Charles. With a guttural yell, he pinned Micah down to the floor, swinging his fists at him with his full force. You weren’t sure of the force intended by Charles, but the impact of his fists alone caused Micah’s flesh to lacerate, forming raw gashes that began to bleed in seconds. Charles’ anger was near animalistic, seeing red and blinded by rage as he continued to strike Micah’s face, who was helplessly clawing at him in an attempt to get him off. You’re sure he would’ve killed him, if not for the fact that Arthur and John had to pry him off. You hadn’t even registered the horrified screams of people around camp, some even clicking their tongues and slyly commenting that Micah was asking for it.

You felt two gentle hands lift you up, presumably Miss Grimshaw, who was frantically asking you if you were alright. You whispered out a yes, the stinging of your cheek reduced to a throbbing warmth. No one offered Micah any help in getting up; everyone was far too focused on getting Charles’ to calm down so he wouldn’t charge him again. 

Once the dust settled, you insisted you were fine and walked past Miss Grimshaw, approaching Charles who still seemed to be grappling with his anger and keeping it in check. In unison, the two of you looked at eachother and asked, “Are you okay?”

The two of you stared at each other, and you felt a small laugh bubble up in you at the coincidence, Though your amusement was replaced by horror when you looked down at Charles’ left fist, which was swollen and bruised. 

“Oh my god!” You cried, moving to cradle his hand but promptly retracting your own when you heard him hiss. “Your hand! It’s broken!” You looked back up at him in concern, feeling the heavy weight of guilt settle within you like a boulder thrown into a lake before sinking to the waterbed. He shook his head, wincing as the pain became more prominent as his adrenaline wore off. 

“Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? Micah hit you pretty hard… I…” Charles pursed his lips at the very mention of his name, having to suck in a deep breath before he looked back at you. You shook your head, grabbing Charles’ arm and leading him to your tent. 

“I’m fine! But we need to tend to your hand asap.” You sat him on a crate just outside your tent, briefly venturing inside before remerging with some bandages you had sourced from your satchel. You sat before him on your knees, taking his massive hand into your own. You felt your heart swell in tenderness for him, wanting to throw yourself on him as an embrace to thank him for the valiant act. 

“You didn’t have to do that…” You began carefully coiling the bandages around his knuckles, looking back up at his face occasionally to spot any signs of pain you might be causing. 

“He had it coming anyways. It was bound to happen. But I’m sorry it had to happen this way.” He motioned to your cheek once again, which was still a flush red. You were sure it would bruise, but you tried not to think about it. As you tightened the bandages around his fist, he hissed, his body jerking slightly. 

“I’m sorry…” You stilled your ministrations, looking up at him with a pout. 

“No it’s okay… Thank you. This means a lot. And it was worth it to defend you from the scum bag Micah.” He smiled warmly at you in a way that made you giddy.

“Well.. thank you for that. It was actually quite satisfying to see.” You admitted with a sly smile, breaking into laughter. 

“Anytime, I mean it. Anytime.” 

You finished wrapping his knuckle up, planting a gentle kiss on it to finish your care off; a bold act that left you internally panicking. But he found it rather cute, and continued to hold your hand as he moved to stand.

The final act of your boldness would be you leaning forward and landing a kiss on Charles’ lips, leaving him standing there in bewilderment and pleasant surprise. 

“Thank you, again.” You cooed, your face burning up and blending in with the shade of your already red cheek. In the morning, your cheek would ache with the memory of the pain inflicted on you, but your heart would swell in remembrance of your salvation.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey

[shower-phantom-ideas]

You guys just don’t understand

You can’t even begin to grasp the amount of pranks Danny could pull on super heros (is that one words? Superheros?)

Added a read more because I hate long posts

Danny as a ghost is so powerful. Like our boy can walk through walls, disappear, and fly! Do you even grasp how much more unique he is than the others guys??

Jokes aside just imagine if you will. Danny could leave batburger cups next to Batman all the time (he comes back later to toss em out of Big ol B doesn’t)

Like hell we talk about Danny just showing up basically stalking the heros but ok hear me out. He didn’t mean to figure out Batmans identity ok but he was in the right place at the right time and over heard some stuff. Now he follows Bruce Wayne around instead. Always spitting out if a batburger cup. Maybe Bruce makes eye contact with him and one time Danny just leans his drink out to as one does to offer a sip xD the man is horrified.

For the ?Robins? The other bats maybe he leaves gifts of sorts. Stuff they would like made from his ice or something. He can understand becoming a hero young and most (if not all) of them did that. He plays favourites with the younger Heros for sure. But hes still making them have there “God?? Is that you” moments like everyone else.

Hell he could follow Superman around and always make his cape flow against the wind and the Hero wouldn’t know wtf is going on. Maybe Superman hears a very slight snickering maybe but the prank is harmless enough so why worry too much. I mean it’s probably bad someone can do this without getting detected till they give themselves away by laughing but nothing harmful yet. (Yet would emphasise Batman)

I don’t know anything about GreenArrow but I assume he uses a bow and arrow so I could imagine Danny grabbing his arrows and making them fly in crazy wild paths before hitting their mark.

Idk honestly how he would fuck with GreenLatern besides like using his ghost powers to try and one up his ring. Like Lantern makes a shield? Danny makes a better one next to it or in front of it. Tbh it’s actually helping Danny get better at his powers so he does this a lot rip Hal (I did not know he was played by Ryan Reynolds maybe ill watch the newer movie)

He refuses to mess with Wonder Woman because the Phandom has told me she is his fav thus he refuses to prank her. He respects her too much and is a huge enough fan that hes too nervous to even approach. Thus she thinks she is this pranksters least favourite since she is never bothered.

Aqua-man (thx for the correction siri) is pretty fun to prank because Danny can follow the man underwater. Idk anything about science of it but imagine Danny like making a space he can talk in with his ice powers (making a bubble of sorts) to make spooky noises at ?Arthur? (R we seriously going with Arthur in this one?) like I assume without actual fish related powers, or with them I havent seen any thing aquaman, you can’t talk underwater. But also if Danny figures out his real name hes 100% gonna be playing the Hey Arthur theme at this man all the time.

He just lowkey overshadows cyborg. Not in a controlling way but just along for the ride kinda way. He was gonna make remarks about his tech but ended up being stunned by how good it is. “Fam I aint gonna lie. I came here to follow you around and make comments like a streamer but your tech is crazy cool. I mean you could have saved a little room with a more compact cooling unit but I mean this is probably some of the best stuff I have seen outside my family!” Or something idk. Maybe he goes full on antman in coldwar

As for the Flash thats pretty simple. He doesn’t let the Flash run from him. I don’t think Danny could keep up with the Flash at all. Like man cants have everyones powers (can’t he tho) but he just hangs on and pretends to have followed. I mean hes invisible the whole time so not like anyone can see lmao though if (idk who the flash is? So ill use Barry cause thats why google say) if Barry goes too fast he might get Danny to give up the game cause boy is on the side vomiting. Barry is pretty smug about probably being the first to throw the prankster for a loop but Danny is just on the side like “how can you go that fast and not be sick dude”

Like tbh I was gonna just make a list of pranks he pulls on Batman but yall seem to enjoy the Justice League so here go off I guess.

Honestly I had to charge my phone so I forget a lot of the post rip this kne

[moliathh]

This had been irking me so i have to say it. I know Hellsing is a horror media with a LOT of flashy action scene, however, it is unjust to see it as solely gore and fights. I've seen complaints about how adding a "romance" in will reduce the quality of the story as an "action horror". (specifically speaking is between Alucard and Integra because of course in the end of the day this is just ship war, not a serious discussion whatsoever) I would argue that Hellsing is never ONLY about the actions. Yall might have already noticed how Alucard is too OP, and it was not even because he got any tricks up his sleeves. He is simply invincible, his mechanism is just that hes a "deus ex machina". He did NAWT need to start out with zero and levelling up like your common action anime protagonist. It's not a first time a central character is overpowered in an unreasonable way. A way you could interpret this trope is that it was not about battles, not the physcial one, but the development in their characteristic, their thoughts and emotions and ideology all that stuffs. A classic example is Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (TGK), where all of their (physical) battles are nonsense and did not mean anything in terms of combat, they dont even fight each other, even the climax (the decapitation of TGK) was dismissed into a looney tunes moment. BECAUSE OF COURSE IT WAS NEVER ABOUT THE BATTLE NOR PHYSICAL DEVELOPMENT, it was the internal struggle and maturing in character. THAT is what's happening in Hellsing IF yall look pass the very flashy facade of gore scenes Hirano put up. READ BETWEEN THE LINES, because he's not gonna hand it out to you on a plate. If you want to see how each character developed you have to look closely at their reactions and dialogues, not how they fight.

SO, imo, it's reducing the quality and message of Hellsing to interpret it solely as an action horror media, not the other way around. AND MIND YOU, romance subplot and action horror can coexist. For what does the character fight? A higher ideal? Power? Fun? Love? All that is noteworthy to think about when you engage in a media display many fight scenes. DONT YOU WANNA KNOW WHY THEY FIGHT THAT HARD ???? and in this case it is VERY obvious that Alucard is motivated by Integra. LIKE it cant be more obvious

And I'm so tired of seeing "Alucard only listen to Integra because of the seal and shes a Hellsing". Bestie, he literally ripped Richard's hand off, we dont even know the extent of the seal, like how far? or can it REALLY control Alucard? Besides, if you have read The Dawn you would see what a damn lazy ass Alucard was, Arthur sent him on a mission and he didn't even bother to walk on his own and just sleep safe and sound in his coffin until he felt like waking up??? Compare that to his enthusiasm to beg Integra on four just for her order and even purposefully tick her off by asking about her enthusiasm for war, oh and did we collectively forget this

(This is the Dark Horse eng scan if i remember correctly? i might be mistaken idk)

Sure it could just be a mere parallel, "The woman he personally desired" might only means Mina Harker and not directly Integra herself, I see. But, why bother choosing this parallel, and RIGHT after this panel he went STRAIGHT to Integra to ask for her order.

You know how enthusiastic he is with a fight and everything was already laid before him, worthy enemies and all. Yet he would not act without her words? I did not see him needing permission before ripping Richard's hand off... Also the seal did NAWT ask him to do all this

There are more of his sickening and excessive display of obedience but i don't have time to pull the panels out yet, but we all know its there since Alucard's submissive attitude and Integra's bossy demeanour is one of their most appealing traits, I know, because it is literally one of the BIGGEST selling points and running joke of the fandom, funnyyyy how people always love to call Alucard a sub and use words such as "freaky" and "slutty" to call him as if he didn't reserved this treatment for ONLY Integra. Sure Integra is a demanding boss to even her enemies, and it works like wonder everytime, because she's Integra, she mastered Alucard, others are just piece of cake to her. But that's not the same case with Alucard. Major literally said "She is the only authority Alucard recognizes". And have Alucard extended the phrase "My master" and all the begging and insinuating jokes to anyone else? It's so convenient isnt it, to just take one specific trait of Alucard's personality and make it his entire character without considering to WHO he directed those innuendos to.

Oh and I haven't walk us to the final chapter yet, like the seal did NAWWWWWTTT asked him to call her "Countess" (or Count, depending on the translators) and literally he could accept his death becoming a paradox? Wasn't Alucard had been craving an end for a long while now? Why the need to return just because Integra asked him to??? Be serious for a moment here

Also a personal interpretation of mine that could be a stretch or just pure delulu is that, in the manga AND the anime adaptation, the last word Alucard said after goodbye is "Integra" (In both Japanese and English dub, the word order is exactly the same), not "Master" or "Integra HELLSING". The same goes when he addressed how he can kill without remorse but the decision is in her hand, he also said "I am a monster, now regarding you, Integra". To me that is an indicator for how he CARED for her not just because she's a Hellsing or his master but she's Integra, from the first of their meeting it was very clear, that Alucard wounded A HELLSING to protect Integra.

So... even non-romantically, you cannot deny that Alucard voluntarily worked for Integra. They DO care about each other a lot, even platonically, their bond is almost like soulmates with how well they trust and understand each other. I just don't like it when people keep side-stepping the depth of their relationship just because you don't like to ship them romantically. These are the canon informations you can't just seriously unironically say that there was nothing there.

And oh don't even get me started on the "But he is a vampire, the enemy of her family and he hates Hellsing because of Abraham something something stockholm syndrome something she's ace coded she's lesbian coded she swore to be a virgin until death she wouldnt throw it away for the enemy of her family etcera etcera" you're saying it as if ace people aren't allowed to date or have sex and you're saying it as if Alucard isn't canonically genderfluid. Why always view the ship as solely heteronormative while they were never conventional to begin with. And MIND YOU, i thought everyone love the enemies to lovers trope?? they were BARELY stockholm syndrome at all did we forget about the Bird of Hermes analogy as a metaphor for loyalty voluntarily given.

If you care so much about "monsters and humans are forbidden" and "they are not canon" maybe treat every ship with the same attitude since MOST of hellsing most popular ships fit into that exact two sentences above, maybe except Pip x Seras is canon, but they're also human x monster, so what now???? Just hate on a ship all you like, I hate ships too and I hate them because I don't like them, that's all, no need to do extra mental gymnastic to prove the ship is "wrong" or their shippers are "wrong".

[cowboydisaster]

Sleepless Nights

repost, originally posted on 13 march 2023

pairing: Dutch van der Linde x fem!reader (+jealous arthur? check notes)

word count: 3k

summary: Dutch helps to keep you toasty on a freezing Colter night. This was written to an anon request "I can think of a few ways to keep warm"

a/n: idk how but this turned into a dutch smut + a snippet of jealous Arthur at the end? Not sure, but I like the finished product!

warning: nsfw, 18+, minors dni

taglist: @margofiore@mrsarthurmorgan7@woman-with-no-name@luvliewriting@tillith@pine4pple-b0i@photo1030@dudsparrow (sorry for tagging you twice, I'm done, I promise lol.)

Your teeth chatter and click together in the overwhelmingly cold cabin. You hate Colter, you hate this storm and you hate the Pinkertons. The only thing keeping you sane right now is Dutch at your back. It’s dark in your section of the little cabin, and it's freezing cold. Dutch lines your back on the small bed, spooning you as close as he can possibly get without crushing you. His warmth doesn’t help much in the storm, but it's better than nothing. Arthur and Hosea are in the other rooms in the little cabin, and by the sounds of their snores through the thin wall, they’re not suffering nearly as much as you are. 

“My dear, this is killing me. What can I do?” Dutch says, beside himself from the way you’re shaking down to your bones. Your skin is like ice, and even as he rubs up and down your arms, you don't warm up.

“Nothing, it's okay but I-Im, god, I'm so c-cold.” Is the only reply you can muster. Dutch pulls your back closer to his chest, thinking. 

You coil around yourself, smiling as Dutch begins to pepper open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. He nips the skin of your pulsepoint, gently toying it with his teeth before running his tongue over the red spot.

“You know…” Dutch begins, and the hand that was snaked around your waist moves downward to reach up the bottom of your chemise. You shudder, but not from the cold, as Dutch’s featherlight touch trails up your thigh, past your abdomen and to your breasts. 

“I can think of a few ways to keep warm…” Dutch whispers, breath hot against your neck. He kisses the underside of your jaw, running his thumb overtop your hardened nipple before circling it a few times. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, and the little gasp that leaves your lips causes Dutch’s jeans to grow tighter around his groin. His thumb flicks over your nipple a few times, and his lips kiss and suck at your ear lobe. 

“Dutch, wait- Hosea and Arthur are sleeping and the walls are thin-” You protest lightly, not wanting to get caught in the act. But the warmth that starts to cover your body from Dutch’s touch and the wetness that begins to pool between your thighs begs him to continue.

“Guess we’ll have to be quiet then, hmm?” Dutch pinches your nipple lightly, trying to restrain from grinding his hips against your ass as he whispers against your ear, “Can you do that for me, princess?”

You whimper, pushing yourself back against Dutch. It elicits a deep groan from the man, and you can feel the outline of his hard cock against your lower back. 

“Mhm.” You nod, needing Dutch to keep touching you. 

He obliges of course, squeezing your breast and groaning before sliding his hand down towards your lower stomach. Once he reaches your thighs, he urges them apart. 

“Can you spread these pretty thighs for me? Hmm, my dear?” Dutch asks, and his voice alone does you in. You lift your leg up a bit, still in a spooning position to grant his hands access. He brings his hand in between your thighs from the back, and runs his fingers over your slick folds. 

“You’re so… God- You’re so wet for me.” Dutch whispers, and his cock is pressing so hard against the inside of his jeans that it hurts. But he’ll take care of you first, he always does. 

His fingers trace a familiar pattern over your clit, the same one that you use to get yourself off. He knows you like the back of his hand, knows everything you want, everything you need. Being with Dutch is as easy as breathing, and you need him like the oxygen that flows to and from your lungs. His large hands ground you, touching you in a manner that doesn’t allow the chill of the room to grasp onto you. Your body burns with his touch, racing ever faster towards a cliff's edge. 

It doesn't take long. His voice combined with the way he’s touching you are the perfect concoction that has you whimpering and gasping. You turn your head into the pillow, and every exhale hits you with a wave of building pleasure. It's the kind of orgasm that peaks slowly, his fingers know exactly what you need, responding to your moans to bring you to a toe curling, whimpering mess. Even with your face lodged into the pillow, your gasping breaths and moans can be heard, albeit muffled. You rock against Dutch’s fingers, elongating your orgasm while clamping your thighs down over his arm and hand. 

“Yeah, just like that… let me work you through it, easy.” Dutch coos, rubbing against your clit until it's too much and you have to pull away from oversensitivity. 

“Fuck, Dutch–” You whimper, and the sweat on your forehead speaks for your better temperature. 

He presses a kiss to the back of your head, shushing you and reminding you that Hosea and Arthur are just on the other side of the wall. Really you don’t care, you can’t even form a coherent thought as you push your ass against Dutch's groin, grinding against his unfreed cock until he groans. He pulls his zipper down far too slow for what you need. 

“Please, Dutch, I need-” You whine, cunt throbbing with need. 

“Just a second, my dear. Patience.” Dutch chuckles, finally releasing his thick shaft from the confines of his jeans. He lifts your thigh up again, running the rosy head of his cock along your entrance to use your slick. 

“You ready, my love?” Dutch whispers, kissing your shoulder, his facial hair causing goosebumps to shiver down your body. You nod, begging him to just take you already. 

As soon as he has your consent, he slides in, pushing into you slowly. Your walls are tight around him, even with all the slick and the foreplay. You moan, tossing your head back against Dutch’s chest as he slowly fucks you from behind, still spooning.  The position gives him a perfect angle to bump right into your G-spot, and you’re moaning and whimpering after only a few moments of his slow thrusts. His hand steadies himself on your hip, and you reach to your side to grasp onto it, nails digging into his hand. 

“God- you’re so tight.” Dutch groans as he thrusts into you. The head of his cock bumps right into that sweet spot, and you feel the first tingling of an approaching orgasm, even without the external stimulation.

"Oh Dutch faster please-" You moan, needing to feel more of him, quicker and harder. 

"As you wish, my love." Dutch groans before picking up his pace and ramming into you so hard that the bed rocks side to side with his rhythm. The creaking bed is loud, but not nearly as loud or vulgar as his hips slapping against your ass, or the moans that fall from your lips as you pinch your nipple. 

"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You practically scream, gripping onto the side of the bed that rocks like a ship mid-storm. You can feel every ridge, every vein and every twitch of Dutch inside you as he mercilessly takes you. 

"Cum for me, my dear, let me feel it-" Dutch groans in your ear, holding himself back until you've been properly satisfied. It's difficult, considering those pretty noises you're making, and the way his name falls so effortlessly from your lips. 

As soon as he says the words, you allow yourself release. Your walls clamp down around Dutch as you rock back against him, waves of tight, hot pleasure falling over you. Dutch tries to continue his pace to ensure your maximum pleasure, but you're squeezing him so tightly, and god- the sounds you make. You moan, crying out and gasping for air as "Oh!" and "Dutch!"  are repeated over and over. 

You can feel him begin to twitch, he groans louder, fucks you erratically. You've said the words before you've even considered them, before you've even thought of the consequences. 

"No, dont pull out please- I wanna feel you, I wanna take it!" You yell out, surely you've woken up Arthur and Hosea by now. Surely they can hear everything happening through the thin walls, but you don't care, not right now anyway. 

As soon as he has permission,  he thrusts into you one last, slow and hard time, filling you up completely. He sputters and groans as he does. 

"So good for me- so good." Dutch mumbles, an aborted thrust of his hips paints your walls with the last bit of his spend. 

You bring your thigh back down, wincing from overstimulation. Dutch doesn't pull out of you, still in to the hilt as he wraps his arms around you again. You're breathing heavily, recuperating from the best orgasm you've ever had in your life. 

"Thank you…" You whisper, craning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. It starts out slow, your lips meet his own in a small, sweet show of love. But as it grows longer, and his pecks become little bites to your bottom lip, you feel heat pooling in your belly again.

"You know, I have to be up early Mr. van der Linde." You chastise, looking into his eyes before trailing back down to his lips. 

"Hmmm, I do. But there's less productive, albeit more interesting ways we could spend our time rather than sleeping… I do have an obligation to keep you warm. Isn't that right miss?" He whispers, trailing kisses from the underside of your jawline down to your neck, and licking a trail up to your earlobe before nipping it with his teeth. 

"We really shouldn't, Dutch. We have to rob the train tomorrow." You counter, but the way you giggle, and your breath picking up tells Dutch that you don't want him to stop.

"I have an idea." Dutch says, kissing your temple before pulling out of you, slowly. 

"Y'know, I have a special talent.." Dutch jokes, sitting up in the bed beside you and urging you to lay on your back. 

"Oh, you do?" You play, knowing exactly where this is going and loving every second of it. 

You spread your legs for Dutch, pulling your chemise up enough to expose yourself to him. 

"Oh, I do. And luckily for you, it is a talent that you're quite familiar with." Dutch jokes before ducking under the blankets. You laugh out loud, because he is ridiculous. 

He settles himself in between your legs, under the blankets before you feel his mustache against your inner thighs, bucking your hips to chase after the feeling of his mouth on your most sensitive bits.

—

Arthur wakes up in a cold sweat from a dream. A dream about you. It's a dream that plagues him on lonely nights. One of your body under his own, slotting together with him. One where you call out his name, gripping onto him like he's everything while he touches every inch of your body, memorizing you. 

He wakes up, and sees the tent that has formed under the blanket from his dirty mind. 

"Goddamnit-" Arthur sighs, angry with himself for being such a creep. Because he will never have you. You are with Dutch- you don't want him. And as he lies awake thinking about you, or sleeps and dreams of you at night, he is only a fleeting thought in your mind. When he sees you in camp, smiling bright with flowers in your hair, your clothes wrapped tightly around your body it drives him mad. He could show you what love can be, he could love you better than Dutch. But he will never have that chance. 

So he does what he does everytime you linger on his mind for too long… 

Arthur reaches down, under the blankets to free his erect cock from his long johns. As soon as his hard shaft springs free from the material, his eyes slip closed, and he recalls his dream. 

You're underneath his body, gasping for breath and moaning as he thrusts into you hard and slow. He starts to stroke himself lightly, toying with himself. He thinks of you in his tent, stepping out of your clothes, of you sitting in his lap, taking what you need and rocking yourself against him. With every stroke of his hand on his cock, he imagines that it's you. He pumps himself into his closed fist, running his thumb over his head just wishing that it was your mouth, your lips on him, your tight walls, taking him like his girl. He whispers your name under his breath, bucking his hips up into his hand.

… And then he hears it. A whimper, coming from the otherside of the wall directly to his left. The wall that separates his room from yours and Dutch's.

Arthur's hand stops abruptly when he hears it. His eyes shoot open, and he glances to the wall, separating you from him by just a few feet. 

"Fuck, Dutch-" You moan, gasping and whimpering from the other side of the wall. At first, it takes the breath away from Arthur. That bastard is touching you right here, for everyone to hear. Like he's showing you off, letting Arthur know what he will never have. Arthur wants to quit, wants to shove his hard length back into his pants and be swallowed up by the floor. 

But then your moans continue, and as Arthur's eyes slip closed again, you whimper, and his cock twitches with need. Arthur sighs, feeling like a total pervert as he starts to slowly pump his fist up and down his shaft again. Arthur pretends that it's him making you moan like that. It's him on top of you, fucking into that sweet little cunt and kissing those perfect rosy lips. He imagines his lips, kissing and licking at those perfect breasts, taking you and giving you everything you need. 

"Please Dutch, I need-" You whine, begging

Dutch to fuck you, and Arthur decides in this moment that he hates Dutch. Arthur hates that Dutch is having you like this, while he pathetically fucks his fist. Because Arthur loves you. He loves you, and you're with Dutch.

Then Arthur hears the unmistakable sounds of sex. He hears Dutch thrusting into you, the slap of you taking him to the hilt, and how you moan with every goddamn rock. Arthur bucks his hips up, fucking his hand hard and fast, wishing it were you. He times his hand with your moans, just wishing that it were him making you moan like that.

"God, you're so tight…" Dutch growls, and Arthur wants nothing more than to go in there and kill the sonofabitch. It should be him in there, not Dutch. 

Arthur tightens his fist around his shaft, only being able to imagine how it must feel to have you around him.

The younger outlaw holds his groans in, not wanting to be caught. You on the other hand are crying out, whimpering and moaning Dutch's name. Arthur hates it, and green envy colors him with want. It only makes his movements harder, faster. 

"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You yell through the slightly muffled wall. 

Arthur has always wondered what you sound like, how you moan when you cum. And tonight is no different. He is waiting for your release, begging you in his mind to just fucking cum already so that he can put this goddamn fantasy that's never going to happen to rest and get some sleep. 

After a few moments he hears the release. Your breaths get heavy, loud and quick. They turn to gasps, that turn to moans until the whole cabin reverberates with your sweet, beautiful cries of pleasure. You're calling out Dutch's name, but Arthur ignores it. He pumps his fist in time with your moans, climaxing with you. With a low, quiet groan, Arthur cums, sending warm strings of his spend up over his own stomach. For a moment, Arthur just lays there, listening to your whimpers continue. Your orgasm is drawn out, as you moan and gasp for a while until they quiet down. 

He feels enraged as you beg Dutch to finish inside you. Of course you do. Arthur hates Dutch and he hates whatever cruel higher power is forcing him to endure this purgatory. He hears your whimpers and moans, knowing that it's something he will never elicit from you. Dutch groans, and Arthur is actually relieved, knowing it's finally fucking over. 

Arthur wipes himself off, feeling like an asshole. His heart shatters when he hears the little kisses that you two share, the aftercare that Arthur wants nothing more than to give you. After a few moments of quiet, and some giggles, it starts all over again. You start to moan, start to whimper and groan. 

"Christ alive…" Arthur whispers, shoving a pillow over his ear. He does actually want to get some sleep, and he feels like a complete perv, listening in like that.

Much to Arthur's growing insanity, you don't stop. No, not for the rest of the night. The two of you go at it like rabbits, and Dutch brings you over the edge again and again, until Arthur stomps out of the cabin and spends the rest of the night in the barn. 

No one gets much sleep.

[konaanaria13]

Alcohol is Toxic as well

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of swearing cuz that's my fav thing to do.... ahm idk just like oh google translated French, Its a big one and I've been working on it for a while so I don't remember!

word count: around 8K

so its enemies to Lovers but also their toxic friends who are friends but just always fight and kind of are very nasty to each other yep yep yep!

nice.... (also rly bad grammar I think, nobody proof reads this)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It was as if we we're just meant to like each other.

Both of our Families we're high in status so it was just natural that we had to spend a lot of time in the presence of rich people.

Wearing the right clothes and The right smiles, It was rather a surprise for my Mother when she heard the absolute disliking I took in The Leclerc boys.

Arthur and Charles the most since Arthur was just always repeating what Charles was doing and oh gods Charles was so irritating.

Enzo wasn't. But since I already Disliked two I went for the three while talking.

Sooner or Later My mother made me wear the Ferrari colours and stand in the paddock and having to watch the races so everybody knew that we we're connected of sorts.

She wanted me to marry rich and in High status so she could be happy.

Me and Charles we're different, he liked car's and I like Quiet study sessions so we simply didn't get along very well, but we had to spend a lot of time together as my mother and his mother we're basically best friends even though they we're two completely different people.

But it wasn't as if we didn't talk, we talked a lot, me and Charles the most since we we're about the same age and it was easy to talk with him, to sneak out at a gathering and get drunk on a rooftop talking about our lives as if we weren't screaming the dumbest insult at each other five seconds earlier.

It was an understandment that even though we didn't like each other we we're in the same boat both holding our heads high and smiling when the camera was in our face.

But Charles family was supportive, I loved his mother almost more than mine, but i couldn't since she wasn't my real mother.

My parents always needed me to be the perfect Daughter, I was the middle child before me came the Golden Boy who went on as a doctor and below me came the baby Boy who sailed the world and did whatever he wanted with our parents money but never got scolded for it.

I stayed. not that I wanted my parents we're cruel... or rather strict, They words stung almost harder than they're open palm even though my mother hasn't dared to lay her hands on me. at every gathering I liked having the Leclerc family there, for Charles mother to pull me into a hug, for all three of the boys to kiss both of my cheeks with a smile and for Charles to notice my exhaustion.

"You look wonderful" Charles handed me another glass of champagne.

We we're on a yacht in Monaco, a weekend before the race. The Stroll Family had organised some of the upper class people to attend it and My mother couldn't miss the opportunity to show of her new earing's, she looked beautiful as always.

"Thank you" I took a sip and we watched as Arthur and Lance talked.

The boy was talented and attractive. Just maybe I could try...

"Do you like him?" I ask Charles and he raises an eyebrow.

"As a driver I mean? Lance? He seems nice-"

"Very nice. He's naïve" Charles agrees and I roll my eyes as Charles takes out a whisk of Alcohol and pours some into my empty glass of champagne.

"How's University?" Charles asked.

"Fucking boring. I've been stuck on like five paragraphs and I have to attend this stupid Party rather than go to an actual one on my Saturday evening" I complain and he laughs.

"It does surprise me that you chose law" he says and I frown

"Why's that?" I ask annoyed.

"You just never seemed the type-" Charles started and I rolled my eyes again

"Cause I'm a woman?" This time he rolls his eyes

"No! Oh my god you always have to do this!"

"Maybe if you weren't a sexist dick-"

"I was ten! And I was simply surprised that you wanted to go karting! It wasn't about you being female!" He whispered so he didn't have to scream.

"Well I beat you anyways-" The race of luck I liked to call it.

"You could never beat me now so"

"Yes but the last time we raced I did so be quiet" The pure luck i had in that race was unbelievable.

"I am a literal formula one driver and you have karted twice how could you beat me now?"

"I don't have to beat you again. I already did so it doesn't matter" Charles looked like he was gonna explode.

"Your such a cunt" Charles whispered under his breath and I chuckle.

"Says the raging asshole" I mutter and suddenly I feel a harsh slap on the back of my head.

"Ow!" Charles had already turned to slap the person back just as I did but we both turned away as it was Enzo.

"Y/n your mother told me to tell you that if she see's you roll your eyes again she will kick you out of the house and Charles Mamon said that if she see's you insulting her again she will also throw you out of the house-" Enzo had that strict look on his face but me and Charles glanced at each other

"I don't live with her anymore-"

"Me neither"

"Both of you. Be nice and fucking smile."

"Yes." I whisper and Enzo leaves.

"You wanna ditch?" It was maybe thirty seconds after Enzo told us to be nice.

"Yeah. You got you car?" We slowly made our way to the stairway only to be greeted by Arthur and Lance.

"Hey- oh Lance its nice to meet you I'm y/n I'm sure Leclerc has mentioned me?" Charles pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Yes... nothing nice I believe" I glare at Charles.

"Snitch" Charles mumbles

"We'll he's simply always embarrassed because i am a better driver." I laugh it off and Charles roll's his eyes.

"So not true do not believe that-"

"I have a video? Dm me on Instagram and I'll send it to you? Maybe we can talk more on there as well?" I flirt my way in a circle so that now the two boys were in our spots and we we're at the staircase.

"Oh- yeah sure?" Lance smiled like a puppy.

"No. Your not getting her socials. Arthur take him away." Charles put his hand on my waist and pulled me away and off the boat.

"Hey! I was getting myself a date?" I push his hand off.

"Your not dating another driver on the grid!" He objects and I push him away.

"And why not?" I walk on the pond until I reached the side walk going into the harbour.

"Because your mother won't allow it- come on I'll drive you home? Or anywhere come on?" I pushed him away.

"Leclerc fuck off, I'm calling a Taxi it's fine" I hated when he did that. Interfered in a perfectly fine build up.

"Stop being a bitch and come with me" he grabbed my wrist

"Oh I'm being the bitch?! You always fucking do this and I'm so not putting up with it"

"Y/n I will literally drag you come on"

"Don't you dare" We've been in this situation before, if he pissed me off he would always make me go with him anyway and either walk me home or drive me home or drive me to his place it was all the same.

"Are you coming?"

"No go away." I try to take my wrist away but he pulls me closer and there it is again. When he is close and for a second I forget all the insults and stupid remarks he makes, all the pranks and games he's played on me. All of the rumours he made up and all of the harsh slaps i got because of him. In a second where he is so near its almost frightening me.

"Please y/n? I'll drive you home and you can sulk and cry about how much your parents hate you there." But it only lasted a second.

"You fucking asshole" I slapped him

"Let me go or I'll scream" I've slapped Charles plenty of times and every time he looked like he wanted to straight up punch me back but he never did.

"I will literally choke you to death" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I really didn't think of you as the kinky type Leclerc" I chuckle and Charles rolls his eyes.

"Come on" He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to his car.

It was funny how i never got interested in formula one over the years or racing of any sorts, even though I had to attend a good amount of the races.

"My mother is calling" Charles informed me about ten minutes into the drive.

"Yes Mamon" I looked in the backseat to see the duffle bag of Clothes

"Charles where are you two? Y/n moth is about to explode in anger, reporters came and you two are nowhere to be found" I chuckled while i got some boxers and one of Charles shirts out of the bag.

"Yeah Y/n got sick so we had to leave? I told Arthur to tell you" Charles raised his eyes brow at me as I put the shirt on and took the dress off beneath it.

"What its uncomfortable?" Charles looked way embarrassed as his eyes glued to the road.

"Noh Chére, Arthur ne nous a pas dit" and there was the French again.

"mère j'emmène Y/n dans mon appartement elle va bien" I heard his Mother frown

"S'il te plaît?"

"Fine, I'll tell her mother something"

"Mercy"

"Mercy Pascale!" I shout into the phone and Charles chuckles as he puts the phone away.

"What did you tell her?" I ask and Charles shrugs.

"Your coming to my apartment because your sick we can get drunk and watch a movie?"

"Do you maybe have....?" Weed brownies, It was Pierre's recipe and the first time I had them I wanted to merry Pierre.

"I can't I have a race next weekend" The stupid FIA and their stupid drug test...

"Yes but do you have?" Maybe it was mean but it wasn't my fault that Charles became a driver

"I do and yes you can have some" I smiled at him tossing the rest of my clothes in the back.

"Thanks gods its night or people will think we fucked" Charles says after it got dark.

"Hah?" I look up from my phone putting my legs up.

"Your dressed in my old shirt and my boxers what would you think?"

"That their comfortable" I remark and he smiles.

"Can you put your seatbelt on?" He asks after another beat of comfortable silence

"Are you worried about me?" I can't help but smile.

"No we're about to pass The police." I roll my eyes putting the seatbelt on.

As we get to his apartment my mother calls me.

"Are you absolute mental?!" Charles leaves me alone in the car.

"You cannot just leave! I will talk to you Father!"

"Mom Just- I was sick and I'm at Charles I'm sorry I should've told you? " I tried to avoid arguing with her.

"I'm still here so I won't talk about this now but your going to the race next weekend and I won't tell you father about your stupidity"

"Yes yes. Mom Leclerc is waiting I've got to go ill talk tomorrow" Charles was waiting he opened the door for me and helped me out giving me his coat so I wasn't completely naked in the street.

"Thanks." I mutter And he lets me hold onto his arm noticing my unstable state.

"How much did you drink?" He asks and I shrug.

"I had like three shots before I got on the yacht" I mutter.

"Why didn't you tell me I would've drove slower I don't want you throwing up on me."

"I'm not gonna throw up on two shots of vodka Leclerc" He opens the door for me and I enter his apartment.

"Never say never" Charles mutters with a laugh.

"I'm just annoyed at my mother" I explain and jump up on the counter while Charles gets me a glass of water as well as a shot.

"You're being nice today?" I take the shot

"Had a rough week" He says and I smile.

"What movie do you wanna watch?"

"Something scary so we can laugh" I ask and Charles takes another shot to survive the night.

"Alright you chose I'll get you your brownies" I jump down and find myself into the couch where I put Anabella on.

The next morning was torture. Not only did this bitch let me sleep on the couch and not bother to put me into the guest bedroom he also left with no breakfast in the fridge.

I cleaned the kitchen from last night's drinking session and took a shower until a friend picked me up with a fresh change of clothes.

The Monaco Grand Prix was the most grandiose GP and Everybody wanted to be the one holding the trophy at the end of the dat.

I arrived at the Paddock at Saturday walking in all black and wearing my sunglasses so people got the hint that I wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Yo! Y/n" Pierre kissed my cheek and I wrap my hands around his neck.

"Hey" I take my Sunglasses off.

"You don't look good.

"I was up late studying. I had an essay to write till today and I forgot about it."

"Come I'll walk you" The alpine boy hocked his arm with mine and walked with me to the Ferrari paddock.

"Leclerc hasn't returned any of my calls since last weekend do you know if he's alright?" I ask and Pierre shrugs.

"Has been running around a lot doesn't really have time to breath" Pierre says and I nod.

"Do you think he will win?" I ask and Pierre sighs

"I mean Ferrari started pretty bad but I think if he gets a good pole position then yes. I believe, also your here" He gives me a gentle smile and i raise an eyebrow

"I'm here?"

"Yeah don't you read headlines? Your like his lucky charm" I stop walking and stare at him puzzled.

"Like he performs better if he knows your watching, He would never admit it but it show's, every time you attend the race he relaxes of sorts because he knows your gonna support him no matter what." Unconditional Love. Pascale told me that one's...

"Its easy for you two to love each other, you don't expect anything"

"So he never has to worry about performing bad which leads to him performing good" Pierre talked as if he didn't just made me realize things.

"Oh." Oh

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that he will kill me" Pierre laughs it off and I look up to see us standing in front of the Ferrari paddock.

"Don't worry, our little secret as always." He smile's and I bite my lip as I wat for Pierre to leave so I can walk into the Paddock but he stay's which must only mean one thing.

I turn around Charles smiling down at me.

"Hey" he kissed my cheeks and I greet him.

"Hey, how are you? Why haven't you picked up your phone?" I scold him and he rolls his eyes.

"I was busy calm down-"

"I am calm Charles but you can't just ignore me-"

"Hey Pierre" He ignores me greeting Pierre.

"Oh fuck you" I walk away from Charles into the Paddock And putting my sunglasses back on.

Charles got P1. It was rather surprising. The car wasn't that fast but Charles knew how to push its limits.

"Rather surprising" I set in the Paddock as Charles assistant comments on the subject with a down right look.

"Why? Charles is an excellent driver no one should expect less of him" I snap rather angrily and she nods embarrassed.

"I just meant-" Charles enters the Paddock getting out of the car.

"You did good" he walked over to me taking the bottle of water beside me.

"Best I could" He didn't look at me.

"Are you alright?" I reach out but he almost flinches.

"Yes I'm just stressed that's all love, don't worry" He makes sure to look me in the eyes now so that I know he isn't lying.

"Alright, yeah I'll see you tonight? After media?" I ask and he nods.

"Come by? we can have a drink?" He proposes and I nod.

"I'll meet you there" He let's me touch him, A brief second where his fingers brush mine.

In the evening I waited in the lounge for Charles, then i waited in my room, until I went to his knocking on his door.

"Yes I'm coming!" He sounded stressed and when he opened the door he stared at me.

"Shit- fuck I'm so sorry I completely forgot" He was in his boxer's and his shirt was unbuttoned, it wasn't like I haven't seen him naked, we ended up skinny dipping with Pierre and his friends a few year's back but it was always a pleasure.

But gods, he looked like a mess, his face was slightly red and his eyes we're as if he had cried and his lip's trembled when he talked.

"Jesus Leclerc- you look horrible what's gotten into you?" His hair was wet from a shower and i stepped inside reaching to touch his face.

"I just don't think-" he swallowed running his hand through his hair.

"I don't think I can lose this race, I don't think I can" He was having a panic attack. I pushed the door close and took my shoes off.

"Come on" the first time I saw Charles have a Panic attack was after he lost a karting event, I didn't know why it was so important to him since I rarely listened to them talk about the importance of races but I noticed his jittering fingers so I followed him into the cabin an. I tried to get him to breath, Enzo came thankfully and got him to calm down so I left them. Maybe it sounded cruel but I wasn't going to do him good back then since we we're so immature and I might even say I would have used it against him.

"Hey come on you wanna take a bath?"

He likes cold bath's

I tried to remember what I did the last time when I was alone with him like this but it was all gone.

"No I just need to breath" He looked up to the ceiling his eyes we're read, his skin felt hot and his breathing was uneven always taking one faster than he ended the last one.

" come on you need to breath" I lead him to the balcony where we we're met with the chill air and he set down, his hand's came up to his chest and his fingers trembled as he swallowed a sob after the other.

"Oh fuck- I'm so fucking done Jesus y/n I can't do this anymore" He cried out and I rubber my hands over his knees.

"Come on try to breath you fine" I waited until he leaned into my touch to take his hands where i made sure to give him a rhythm, I took his hands up when i wanted him to breath in and pushed them back down when He should exhale.

"Your doing great" I nodded at him and he nodded back.

After fifteen minutes he was calm and quiet.

I got up and got him water with some gin.

"You need a hug?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Ew y/n" he was fine. I breathed through.

"I should've called Enzo" I mutter as he drinks the water.

"No. Your good." I don't think he was able to complete his sentences that night.

"I'm sorry. I'm really stressed." Short words. He was looking into the night sky trying to find the stars but the lights around us we're to bright.

"Do you want me to stay?" I ask and he find my eyes.

"Yes. Please." He adds and I smile standing up.

"Come on" he took my hand and I lead him to bed where he fell in comfortably.

I looked for his clothes from where i took one of his shirts and changed into them before laying down beside him.

"I am still angry at you" I whisper and he raises an eyebrow

"You couldn't have bothered to put me in the guest bedroom could you?" I ask and I see his faint smile.

"Room's are for people. Not for dogs." I gasp and slap his arm and I can't help but smile when he laughs.

"Gosh I wish I could help you" I whisper and I notice how harsh my words we're.

He didn't seem to mind.

"You are helping me" He says and I smile.

"I hate you with a burning passion" I tell him and he nods.

"Good. At least one thing that doesn't change" He says and I laugh.

"Yeah" He fell asleep first, It was late when I set up and brought my knees to my chest sucking in a shaky breath with a following sob.

It was Hurting me, of course he was an asshole, he did terrible things and made me cry uncountable times.

But I would never wish to have to sit there again, his shaky hands in mine, it was so fucking scary. I felt as if his heart was going to stop any second, His skin felt so cold, His eyes we're losing their pretty colour into a red teary Breath taking pain.

"Fuck" I let my nails dig into my skin.

"Be quiet" He turned around and I scoff returning to reality.

"Fuck off"

"Shut it" He frowned taking the blanket

"Wanker" I fell asleep.

The first time I was interested in a formula one race was in 2020 Baku race where Daniel and Max where on edge, I found myself in a bit of a crush for the Dutch Driver so I paid attention.

The second time was the morning after I had to hold his shaky hands in mine trying to be as steady as possible for him.

The entire race my skin was so itchy, so I scratched it off staining my fingernails.

My mother hated it when i did that but I didn't even notice till the end of the race.

Charles stayed in P1 for 80% of the race, at the start he lost it to Max but quickly got it back when max ran into a wall because his rear end hit the wall.

The second time he lost it was because of a pit stop fail and I swear I was ready to punch the crew member myself.

"Just push a bit" I muttered and he did, he caught up pretty fast as he thankfully changed to soft tires.

When he won My heart skipped a beat, I heard his scream over the radio, It was so full of beauty I needed to breath.

I took the headphones off and waited.

"Y/n Charles asked if you could put the headphones on?" One thing I hated more than Charles was Phone calls (which i got used to) or even worse radio calls (which really wasn't necessary for survival)

"Tell him he can come find me, I'm not talking to him over a radio." I wasn't that desperate was I?

"Yes ma'am" His engineer told the message to Charles and then Looked at me blankly.

"I'm not telling her that" The engineer said into the radio and I smile.

"Did he call me a raging cunt?" I ask and The engineer looks at me in shock

"Yes." He laughs.

"Tell him he can drive into a wall for all I care" I leave the paddock soon after not wanting to be on Charles last person list.

He called me when I got back to my apartment.

"Where are you?" He was clearly in a rush.

"At my apartment?" I asked as if I didn't ditch him.

"Come to the party?" He asked and I laughed.

"I'm not really in the mood-"

"Y/n i just won the most important race in my career put your favourite dress on and get the fuck to the Party or I'm gonna drag you here" His voice was filled with laughter, even though he wanted to sound convincing or demanding he was so over joyed that it was simply impossible for him to be angry.

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No, no, you go have fun I'll join you in an hour" He hummed and I Heard the voices around him pulling him away.

"Promise you'll come?"

"Yes. I'll be there don't worry"

"I'll come to your apartment if you don't"

"I'm already on the way" I lie before hanging up and phone down.

I chose a red dress for Charles victory and made sure to wear the Necklace his Mother gave to me on his account on my birthday since he was 'occupied'.

I called an Taxi and took a shot so I wasn't completely sober when I got there.

It was rather cold, the party was on a massive yacht and It was almost overflowing.

I made my way up the steps carefully looking for Anybody I knew.

People seemed to know me and some came over to say hi but my brain was completely shut down.

"Y/n!" It was Pierre, Lovely Pierre who had a girl in his lap and called me over handing me his drink.

"Why did you leave early? Charles was worried! Where is he? Charles!"

"Pierre the night just started how much did you drink? " I laugh and Pierre took his drink back rolling his eyes at me.

"Are you really the right person to mother me? Miss let's see who can chug the most beer? When she was 17?" I laugh.

"Exactly I was 17 how old are you right now? 12?" Pierre scoffed and I looked around spotting Charles.

He wore a black suit and a white shirt underneath the first three buttons undone and he was talking to Max.

He looked pretty, his cheeks we're flushed red and he had a glass of cranberry vodka in his hands which was even more attractive now that i think about it.

"Pierre calm down on the drinking I'm going over to Charles yeah?" He gave me a thumbs up and I smile at the girl apologetic before making my way over to the bar.

"Hey Max" I ignore Charles leaning in front of him.

"Hey Y/n" He noticed my intention thankfully and decided on Ignoring Charles as well.

Charles put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him and Max laughed at me as I rolled my eyes at him leaning back comfortably.

"Clingy much?" I ask and he gives me the glass of vodka.

"Its an open bar for you" He tell me and I smile.

"Why be as clingy as you want then" I take the glass.

"Somebody know the real value" Max mutters and I raise an eyebrow in question.

"Free alcohol" He explains and I laugh.

"Congratulations on p2 btw" Max scoff's.

"Thank you but no thank you"

"What? P2 is amazing! It just proves that next time you will so better" I slap his arm as he roll's his eyes.

"You know for all the things you two say behind each other's backs you do make a good couple" Max leaves us and I scoff's pushing Charles away and turning to him.

"Red for me?" He asks ignoring Max's comment.

"No for Carlos I wouldn't wear shit for you." I drink my drink.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I chose that necklace for your 20th?" Charles picked the small red heart shaped gemstone.

"It was from your mother."

"No! I chose it and I wanted to give it to you myself but I had a race you cunt" he dropped it, my skin missing his touch.

"Liar! Your mother didn't tell me you had a race and we all knew you didn't chose it you we're off somewhere while I had to spend five hours in a thight dress smiling for pictures. " I scoffed at him and he stared at me.

"It was a Sunday. I had a race in Spa Belgium. My mother didn't tell you because she didn't want to worry your Mother who always made a big fuss about it and would've want you to join me. But it was your birthday and you hate to attend the races" He explained and I swallowed.

"I got you that necklace a month even before your birthday. I got it In France, me and Pierre we're driving around all afternoon because I knew you wanted That exact one. It was the one you asked your Father to buy you that summer" Charles just talked and explained while i stared at him, how could such an insufferable annoying little shit be such a sweetheart all of the sudden rather has always been and how was I only noticing it now? Charles kept defending himself for another 5 minutes calling me a raging cunt five times as well.

"Thank you" I interrupt him at some point.

"It's one of my favourite necklaces. Thank you" It became my favourite in that moment.

"and I don't hate attending your races"

After another two drinks Lando and Carlos came over and started to talk to Charles about the race.

"Lando you wanna dance?" I asked the brit and he Looked at Charles for an answer.

Charles wasn't listening so he just shrugged and offered me his hand.

"Why not" He let me walk behind him until we got on the dance floor where he put his hands on my waist and guided me to the music.

"Did you and Charles fight?" He asked over the music leaning down so i would hear him.

"I mean we always fight" I shrug letting my hands fall around his neck.

"Yes but like why did you want to dance with me and not with him?" He asked and i raise an eyebrow.

"Maybe Because i don't like Charles?" I laugh and Lando scoffs.

"To be honest The first time i saw you two i thought you we're dating" I laugh at his stetment.

"But then you trippee him and walked over him so I was like nah... But it did take Carlos to tell me that you weren't dating so i would belive it.

"Oh?" I laugh at him and He smiled.

"Well We're really not- so yeah I'm single like a Pringel" I joke and he laugh's again.

The first time I met Lando Charles had told him that I was a huge McLaren hater which obviously wasn't true but Lando believed him and would straight up ignore me for a month.

Carlos confronted him for me and then he laughed at the both of us for a week before clearing it all up.

"Come on let's get another drink before i start sobering up again" Lando took my hand and got us back to the bar where I ordered two beer's on Charles account.

"I can pay its fine" Lando tried but i Scoffed.

"Charles is paying don't worry" I hand him the bottle and he smiles.

The night went away quick and soon the people started to leave, Lando had pulled me into his lap as we set in a couch cirlce where the other drivers had started to gather around aswell.

"To be honest I though I was gonna spin out in the fifth lap but i somehow stayed in control" Lance had started talking to Lando and I watched as the two drivers exchanged infos about they're car's.

"Y/n whats your favorite car?"

"Oh I'm not really intrested in car's" I sip on my drink and they laugh.

"Its a Ferrari" Charles set down beside me and I waved a Pierre who took the seat beside Charles.

"Hm?" I Raise my eyebrow.

"Your favorite car is a Ferrari." He says and I smile.

"Is it now?" I ask and he nods taking my hand.

"Yes so you can get down from the McLaren now." He yanked at my wrist and I almost fell off Lando but Lando made sure to Hold me not paying attention to Charles.

"Ow fuck you" i take my hand away from him as he smiles.

"Y/n i swear if you fuck one of the Drivers im calling your mother" Charles says and I scoff.

"You wouldn't dare! And im not fucking anybody anyways... just having fun" I turn away from him but he doesn't let me.

"I'm being sirius. Nobody on the grid."

"How about I fuck you engineer and check if he will be able to focus on you again while I'm in that fucking garage?" I push his buttons.

"Y/n I'm not joking-"

"Stay out of my love life Leclerc. It doesn't concern you." I spat and Charles stared at me for a while, My head kept spinning and gods his lips looked angelic.

"Don't be like that" he asked and I swallowed harshly.

"You were the one who just tried to push me off a man's lap"

"I didn't push you off your over reacting"

"Maybe because i've been drinking for five hours straight to a party you made me come to?" Charles noted my comment and nodded then turning away.

"Well good point, still you try to much Xavi and I'm actually gonna punch you" Charles Grabbed his beer bottle and I scoff.

"Xavi and I have already fucked-"

"No!" Charles and his nöh's we're rather interesting.

"Yës!" I mocked him and he yanks my hand again.

"Say your joking!" He pull's me off Lando's lap and I stand up so that Lando let's go off my hip.

"Make me" I laugh and jump over some peoples feet as Charles launges up to catch me.

"Y/n i swear to god! Say your joking" I run through some people and out on the open where Charles catches me pushing me against the rails. His hand's lock me in place and I push mine on his arms trying to push him off

"What if I'm not?" I ask and he groan's his hand falling on my waist.

"I'm gonna push you off this boat" Charles said and I smile.

"Push me" I dare him and suddenly his hand's come up beneath my thighs picking me up and I shriek putting my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist as he set's me down on the railing.

"Okay, okay fine I'm kidding! Don't let go" I eased when he didn't push me further and simply let me sit on the rail and look down on him.

Charles breathed through and let his head fall in my lap for a bit.

"Your a torture"

"The best you can get" I lift his head he smiles.

"I don't get us" he says and I nod.

"Yeah you we're about to kill me and now your simping for me again, chose a side will you?" I laugh and he groans again.

"You wanna go home?"

"Can I sleep in an actual bed rather than Your old couch?" I ask and he scoffs

"That's a brand new couch" he protests and I frown.

"Alright get me down" His hand's came up on my thighs again and he put's me down and guides me back to the bar so he can pay his hand resting on my lower back.

"Alright we're off" Charles Kissed Pierre on the cheeks and I hugged Lando kissing his cheeks.

"Bye" I hit Pierre on the back off his head and ducked behind Charles when he hit me back.

"Fuck you" He muttered and Charles guided me down the yacht.

"The cab should be here any minute"

"Ugh" I took my phone out and leaned against his chest with my back.

"What are you doing?" He put his head on my shoulder.

"Following Lando On Instagram" I mumble as I go to DM him

"Why?"

"Maybe we can go out sometimes" I muse and he snatches my phone putting it in his pocket.

"No" I roll my eyes.

"Jesus I'm just being friendly Leclerc, give me my phone"

"No your fine, come on get in the cab" I stumble along the pavement until I Reach the car where He opens the door for me and lets me inside.

I take my Highheels off and he takes them holding them for me. I watch him.

His eyes as he thinks, his lip's as he tries to form words, his hand's (gods his hands) the way his fingers lingered on my shoulder and the way He breathed slower.

He helped me out of the car as i tip toed up the stairs to his apartment so I wouldn't get my feet dirty which he picked up on so he grabbed my by the waist and i shrieked again as he carried me up the stairs in a second.

"Jesus Leclerc you got to stop doing that! How do you have this much strength anyways?" He set's me down on the cold apartment floor after he opened the door for me and I walk into his Bathroom washing my face off and breathing through.

I take off the necklace and my rings leaving them on the small plate where all of his Rings we're placed.

Charles was sitting on his bed scrolling on his phone as I got into the room looking through his closet to get my favourite shirt.

"Can you help me with the dress please?" I ask and he got up unzipping it for me.

"Thank you" I mutter covering my chest as I pulled his T-shirt over my head and turning around to face him.

"Are you tired?" He asked and I nod with a smile.

"Yes very" I look at the clock at his desk which said 05:00 AM.

"Are you still drunk?" He asks and I shake my head.

"Are you alright?" I ask and he smiles.

"I don't think I've ever been happier." He tells me and I smile.

"I don't understand us" He tells me again.

"I know. I don't either. Not since we started to... I don't know become friends." I nod and throw my head back in despair.

"But let's not tonight, let's just be happy tonight and fight about it tomorrow?" He asks and I nod.

"I'm gonna go wash up you can go to sleep already?" He breaks us back into life and I push myself over to the bed falling down.

I don't know if I fell asleep or not but I felt him beside me after some time. I didn't want to open my eyes when I felt his finger's push my hair behind my ear, I didn't want to open them when he pulled me closer by the waist and I didn't want to open them when his lip's touched my forehead whispering a good night.

We didn't talk for a month after that. I went back to studying and he went back to racing, I got out of my mothers way when ever she tried to get me to something he was attending, we had both come to a realization that we did like each other, that we didn't hate each other and I noticed how people had started to ease around me when they knew Charles as if he had stopped Saying all those things about me so Initially I stopped as well, Just skipping over him when he came up in a conversation trying to get myself away from thinking about him.

"Come on we're going out" it was about 11 P.M. and I was sitting in the Library going over some material trying to memorize several text's.

"Hm?" It was a friend of mine Ashley who already took my coat and helped me up.

"You've been stuck here for five hours we're gonna go change and then go drink.

"I really have to finish this" I tell her but she already pulled me away.

We went to a shady club somewhere at the end of Monaco and she made me take about ten shot's one after the other before taking me to play bear pong.

"Y/n I'm off with- what's your name? Julio you have fun!" it was about two when Ashley left, I kept on drinking feeling myself in the moment and dancing with random guys I found at the bar.

It was four when i ended up outside walking along the street trying to think of somebody to call.

"Pick up" I pled Having Charles number pulled up while The phone started to ring.

"Oui? c'est quoi ce bordel? qui est-ce?" Charles picked up his deep voice made me blush immediately.

"Hey where are you?" I ask and I hear him shuffling.

"What? Y/n its 4 A.M? I'm at my apartment? where are you?" I heard him shuffle some more and yawn.

"So your in Monaco?" I ask and I hear him frown.

"Yes? Its summer break? Are you drunk? Where are you?"

"Not drunk! Just a bit tipsy" I balance myself on the pavement falling down.

"are you alright? where are you?"

"Fuck, I'm I don't know where" I look around.

"Are you alright? what happened?" I heard him stand up and go through his closet.

"Just fell down. Uhm I'm sorry I just wanted to.. I don't know we just haven't talked and My mother has been pushing but I just didn't want to see you" I explain and I hear his house door close.

"Send me your location I'll be there in a second" He orders and I sigh Trying to do as he says.

"Y/n can you hear me? your location?" Charles asked again after a while and I swallow a sob. I send him my location looking at his message which was sent a fucking month ago.

"Yeah, yeah, You don't have to come I'm alright I'm just sorry... I kind of messed us up" I tell him and hear him scoff.

"We're fine, your fine, I'm fine, I'll be there in a second just wait" I nod and hear how he gets in his car. I get up and start walking again.

"Y/n?" He asks and I wipe away my tears.

"Just breath alright?" He asks and I Breath through nodding.

"I'm sorry" I whisper and hang up looking around while i wait for him.

Gosh how I love his car. The black Pista pulled up on me and He got out putting his coat around me in a second.

"Jesus you look fucked-"

"Fuck you" I scoff as I wipe away my tears again trying not to cry as I lean into him.

"Hey, hey come on your fine" He pulled me into a hug and I nod against his chest and he Helps me into the car opening the door for me.

"Come on you wanna go to your apartment?" I shake my head.

"I wanna go to yours?" I ask and he smiles.

"As you wish Chérie"

We drove in silence and I took my High heels off.

"Thank you for getting me" I whisper after a while.

"Always" He smiled and I lean my head against the window watching him drive.

"I think you we're right" I tell him and he raises his eyebrow.

"I do like Ferrari the most.... at least if your driving" I add and Charles smiles.

"Thank you I believe myself to be a quiet good Driver" I stare at his hand's.

"can I hold your hand?" I ask and he frowns but holding me his hand anyways.

"Why? Don't bite me please" I laugh leaning into his direction as he let's me hold his hand, i don't hold it but rather examine it letting my fingers run over them, they we're solid and his skin was hard in some places.

"What are you doing?" He asks after a beat of silence.

"I don't know, trying to figure out why I'm attracted to somebody's hand's" I state and when i look at him I see how flushed his face has gotten.

"Alright stay for a second" he stopped the car and I look outside seeing that we have arrived. He opened the door for me and helped me out taking my high heels and I go up the stairs faster than he so he doesn't attempt to carry me up again.

"Let me" He opened the house door for me and I walk into his apartment falling onto the couch.

"Don't do that, go to the bathroom and wash up yeah?" He tapped my leg and i rolled off the couch doing as he told me.

I washed my legs in the shower for a second and cleaned my face off before finding myself to his bedroom where he got me a hangover drink and some water.

"Do you just have those laying around?" I point to the hangover drink which he hand's me.

"I do actually yes" I drink the shot of whatever the fuck is in those things and Cringe handing the empty bottle back to Charles who was smiling at me.

"Thank you" i mutter and see that he already laid out the shirt I liked.

"Can you help me with the dress?" I ask and he does unzipping it for me.

"Thank you" I mutter again and cover my chest as I slip into his shirt.

"Are you alright?" He asks as I sit down on the bed.

"No... I'm so fucking Tired" I laugh and he hands me the water bottle.

"Me too" he informs me and I press my lips together.

"I shouldn't have called you" I tell him and he scoff's taking my hand and pulling me into him so I flop down on his chest in exhaustion.

"I'd rather have you call me than anybody else" he tells me as I curl up into his side, he holds my waist and I feel how his breath steadies.

"Thank you Charles"

"I love it when you say my name" He tells me and I Smile turning around so I'm facing him, I lift my finger and push his hair out of his face so I can touch him.

"I think we're kind of unhealthy" I tell him and he laughs hugging me a bit more giving me enough room so I can bury my face into his neck and breath in his scent.

-K<3

[incoherent-orca]

💭

🐳

im really trying not to but damn,,,,,, im falling off malevolent

the entire last quarter of s4 and s5 so far are so ,,,,,,oddly packed with explanatory monologues and people giving extremely detailed character analyses of ??? themselves ?????

idk i just had to power through The Witch. like this woman just killed the most important guy in your life, possibly permanently, why are u letting her ask questions like its a job interview

frankly why are u justifying urself to her at all? John's return from the dark world and his deal with Kayne are things he hasn't even told Arthur, his closest friend, why is he laying it all out for some hostile stranger who asks leading questions ??

that's another thing! the witch herself is so inconsistent

does she respect John's innate power or not? does she recognize him as a godly being regardless of whether she recognizes his titles or not ?? because if Hastur/KiY doesn't matter to her because those are the gods her enemies worship, why does she give two shits about freeing John from his flesh prison?

it doesn't make sense that she's like "Hastur? idk and idc" and flexes her magic on John, then becomes subservient to him when he pretends to embrace the KiY title again

the monologues are also so,,,, unprompted and jarring. john sweetie you did not need to recite your essay about what you believe humanity and morality is

and idk the way the writing treats the concept of "humanity" just does not vibe with me, especially in The Witch ep. so the witch comes from a line of women mistreated by society so badly that she's given up hope on the human race as a whole,,,,, and the writing chucks her in the "monster" box wholesale because she has no hope and does creepy slimy things in a cave? is that not an absolutely tragic showcase of how humans can be monstrous and how things that are monster-ed & othered by society are still people?

you go through all this trouble to set up monstrous characters to juxtapose against John and emphasize how different he is, but it falls flat when the witch actually??? has a pretty good reason for turning out the way she did, and the writing gives her the barest crumbs of sympathy

has she not seen the cruelty humans are capable of? doesn't she love her maggots like a mother? why does she get slapped with the label monster and nothing else?

EDIT bc i am not immune to the spirit of the staircase:

for a show where one of the protagonists is a monster finding his humanity and regret, it seems so disinterested in exploring any other monster character. LIKE let's not forget that besides the monster-of-the-week in s1, John was the closest thing we had to an antagonist, and his arc is still one of my favorites ever. he does horrible, cruel shit, but is able to feel remorse and make some kind of amends towards Arthur. and John as the voice of morality in the mines? so fucking good

but in The Witch ?? it's such a one-sided conversation. the writing (through John) does not give a damn about the witch's trauma except in how it can be used to poke flimsy questions at John's identity. there's no fascination at all in the monsters. That's exemplified in how it's only sympathetic to John to the extent that he rejects his nature, which is a shame because holy shit John has a working monster form now!!!

YET ANOTHER EDIT:

I'm not exactly mad that arthur died but,,,, i AM disappointed that harlan did that ? the whole fake-out death. i feel like respecting the permanence of death is ,,,, idk a better writing choice. it takes more to pull that off, because you can't return to the status quo of your story AND find a way to continue the plot while providing space for grief

I get that it was meant to be a consequence of the patrons making a bad choice or something,,,, but surely there are other long-lasting effects that don't involve cheapening any consequence from now on ?

idk, any death of arthur from now on will always lack impact, because I'll be squinting at it suspiciously and thinking "well there's precedent for reversing protag death in this show, how do we know this is the real shit?"

then the show will have to spend an unnecessary amount of time providing evidence as to why he can't be brought back this time, and by then any emotional impact will be kind of dulled

[mermaidsirennikita]

Contemporaries where dirty talk is especially hot? Both during sex and maybe also over text? Thank you!!

Sierra Simone, Sierra Simone, Sierra Simone. Her books are often set in a contemporary world, but they're not, as a heads up, "light" contemporaries. Personally, I wouldn't really go as far as to call them dark romance (well. Thornchapel, I would, but I also wouldn't recommend it as a contemporary as it has such strong supernatural elements lol) but they do have some elements of (light) mysticism as some of them are retellings of old myth set in a modern setting. I'd check out:

Priest, Sinner, Saint/"The Bell Brothers": These are three standalones (M/F, M/F, and M/M) that always have a bit of a religion kink. And a by a bit, I mean a lot. Priest is the book where a Catholic priest (who is actually very naturally carnal and only became a priest because of some deep guilt issues and religiosity) meets a woman who tells him ALL the shit she's done in confession. It's naturally dirty, and he naturally falls head over heels into an affair. Sinner is about a business whose best friend's little sister is about to become a nun, and she (on the advice of her convent, naturally) asks him to teach her about sex so she can experience what she'll miss before she really commits. Saint is about a guy who became a monk in a period of deep emotional crisis, whose ex-boyfriend (he left with zero notice) ends up on a tour of monasteries with him for an article he's writing. Temptation ensues.

The dirty talk in these is naturally very tinged with priest/nun kink stuff, it's SUPER dirty, and I love it. They're also just really good.

Her Christmas Notch books she does with Julie Murphy are a little tamer, both focus on this Hallmark-esque company where the leads film these Christmas movies and, of course, fall in love. I really, really love A Holly Jolly Ever After, because the hero is a former boybander (with a dad bod!) who fucks like a demon and also owns a chain of pizza shops, and his sex tape leaks, during which he's pictured absolutely RAILING a woman from behind, slapping her ass, and saying "and THAT'S how you toss the dough" which I personally think is some of the greatest dirty talk I've ever read.

New Camelot: One of my favorite trilogies of all time, MMF, "what if King Arthur was President, Guinevere was First Lady, and Lancelot was VP, and what if they were all in love with each other and entangled in an intense affair and IT WAS AMAZING". I reread scenes regularly. I love it so much. The dirty talk is obscene. You get the very cool "sit, stay, bark" dom dirty talk from one hero and the deranged "I'm going through it and you're going to go through it with me" passionate dirty talk from the other. Our heroine ain't half bad at it either.

Lyonesse Trilogy: The prequel novella and the first book are out now; it's a Tristan/Isolde/Mark MMF retelling. Mark is perhaps like... the dirtiest dirty talker Sierra has written. He's soooooo much. Like, if you want the condescending dom dirty talking hero, he's The One. The alternating between the "look how good you take it" stuff and "you're so desperate it's pathetic" shit. Why not both???

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield has a TON of dirty talk, usually in the DD/lg vein. The hero and heroine roleplay dirty stepdad fantasies a lot, and the way they talk to each other is OBSCENE lol. And I love it.

Minx by Sophie Lark has some amazing dirty talk in the pet play realm. The heroine is an escort paid by the hero, and he has her dress up in a catsuit, wear a caller, drink milk out of a bowl while he calls her Minxie and a good girl and shit lol. I was into it. Idk if you'll be into it. Iiiii was into it.

Sara Cate's Salacious Player Club books have good dirty talk. They're sex club books that kind of deconstruct a different kink in each book (pleasure dom/sub in the first one, voyeurism in the second, MMF/bi awakening in the third, and femdom in the fourth... I'd stop after the fourth) and naturally are filled with dirty talk. Eyes On Me (the second book) may especially work for you because the heroine is a cam girl.

Possession by Adriana Anders has a heroine in a PR marriage with her famous husband end up in a kink camp with him after a scandal, and they... explore a lot. Including consensual kidnapping, an MFM threesome, lots of dirty talk... It's a lot.

Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre has a heroine who becomes her billionaire boss's domme, so naturally there is a LOT of femdom dirty talk. We LOVE to see it.

Heated Rivalry & The Long Game by Rachel Reid make up a duology of hockey romances about the same couple (m/m). What I like about this is that you follow the same couple over like, a decade, starting when they're like 18/19, and they build up...? Their dirty talk? Like in the beginning, their encounters are more awkward, and then by the end they're using sex toys and like mild bondage and really KNOW each other and what turns each other on. Including the talk.

[scionofguineverependragon]

for some reason i can’t find my morgana post anymore so it might’ve gotten deleted…idk how to tumblr…but since i had the text saved imma repost it 🤷🏾

ok so i saw the "morgana never turned evil, morgause did to her what morgana did to gwen" theory again and i just felt like laying down my thoughts on this

like, i understand i really do (once upon a time i wanted this too). but i dislike this theory be it is a thing used to victimise morgana and absolve her of her wrongdoings, especially towards gwen.

morgana's treatment of gwen is so cruel that people want to find a reason to excuse her of it. but morgana is a big girl, she knew what she was doing; which was apparent in the stuff she said. eg. "evil" gwen says she never loved arthur that it was all a trick, when there's evidence of the contrary because she is brainwashed asf. morgana when confronted with "i thought we were friends" says "so did i", and "you were so kind what happened" says "i grew up" that shows that she KNOWS herself and the choices she made. she confronts merlin in the hand he played in hurting her. she says "uther taught me well", she never denies her past. she is not magically brainwashed, she is a woman who got hurt and decided to turn against everyone, even those who cherished her. she decided to not care who she hurt to acces the power she deemed was right fully hers. those are her choices.

it can also feel like a disservice to morgana bc she has always made her own choices and stood by it since s1. while living under tyrannical uther, unlike many others, morgana always felt like she could talk back to him and she did.

saying that morgana for three seasons until her deadly end was not herself—when truly apart from a moral change, she sure spoke like the outspoken morgana with strong opinions and a sense of self-justice she always was—is doing her a disservice.