#another day another man whipped for charles
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📷 @/stephane.valeri
#another day another man whipped for charles#and a politician#he's collecting them all#and look at him in his funky but cute little outfit#charles leclerc#f1#formula 1#winter break 2023#monaco#charles' fashion corner
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MAKE A WISH ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!childhood friend!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you and charles have been friends since you were little kids, and each year without fail charles posts you on your birthday, unknowingly marking the milestones of your relationship [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ reader grew up in monaco. i tried to use old-ish pictures to mark the time period he was posting her from! this one's a bit on the shorter side because i only included charles' perspective of posting her. the fc i've used is cindy kimberly, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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2017
liked by yourusername, user1, and 14,192 others
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charles_leclerc happy birthday to my very best friend! can't believe we've been friends for more than ten years, time flies by when you're having fun! love you y/n, have the best day ❤️
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yourusername awww charlieee!!
yourusername this is the sweetest omg
yourusername thank god you didn't use that crusty photo of me you threatened to use...
user1 okay now we haveee to see it
yourusername NOOO NEVERRR
yourusername thank you sm love you!!💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user2 scrolled so far down i managed to find these old gems of y/n 🤣
user3 stop they're acc so cute i can't
user4 the way this is the point where they relationship was just so sweet and innocent is so heartwarming to me
user5 also before charles got slowly more and more whipped with each post he made
2018
liked by yourusername, user6, and 67,256 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc Y/N!! another year of us being friends, and another year where i have to put up with your awful dad jokes & incapability of cooking 🤣🤣 still, wouldn't have it any other way! love you y/n ❤️
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yourusername stoppp that cat was sooo cute
charles_leclerc ur cuter 😘
user6 THE BLATANT FLIRTING HELLOOOO??
yourusername birthday wishes much appreciated charles!! thank youuu 💘💘
charles_leclerc why so formal??
yourusername idk just felt like it ❤️
yourusername i literally can cook idk what you mean
charles_leclerc you almost burnt down my apartment??
yourusername intentional. 😊
user7 is that his girlfriend???
user8 nooo his childhood best friend from monaco!!
user9 well not yet anyways 🤷♀️
yourusername NOT THE BANGSSS IT WAS A DARK TIME OKAY
user10 Y/N REVISITING THIS IS SO FUNNY
yourusername NO STOPP WHAT WAS I THINKING.
2019
liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, and 102,441 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc hopefully the getaway to italy was enough of a birthday present for you 😘 happy birthday y/n! no one else i'd rather eat crappy pizza with ❤️
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user11 TELL ME HOW THEY'RE NOT DATINGG
user12 omg she is absolutely STUNNING!!
yourusername CHARLIEEE IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH
user13 she seems like such a sweetheart
yourusername the flowers were so beautiful oh my
charles_leclerc you have no clue how long it took me to find them 🤣🤣❤️
user14 GET TOGETHER ALREADYY
sebastianvettel 👀👀
user15 SEB IS HERE!!
user16 what on earth can this man know
2020
liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 274,928 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc happy birthday to the craziest cat lady i know!! 🐈⬛ thanks for supporting me through my ups and downs, and staying with me during this crazy journey! the best person to ever have by my side ❤️
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user17 oh so he's in love.
user18 RIGHTTT
yourusername you can NEVERRR take me away from cats!!
charles_leclerc as a dog person this hurts
yourusername idc deal with it eclair!!
user19 crazy cat lady x dog guy >>>>
yourusername love you charlie 💘💘
user20 CHARLIE HAS ME WEAKKK
user21 if this man doesn't want her I DOOO PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE Y/N
user22 looking back on this in 2024 it's actually sooo obvious idk how (some) of us didn't see it
2021
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 451,002 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc forever thankful that my mama made me play with my (annoying) new neighbour when i was 7 years old 🤣❤️ happy birthday y/n, hope it's the best one yet!
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user23 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTYYY
user24 more y/n content asap pleaseeee
yourusername exploring spain w you was sooo much fun & the tour guide was great asw! @/carlossainz55 😉😉
carlossainz55 it was my pleasure! ❤️❤️
user25 PLS SAY THEY ARENT DATINGGG I WANT CHARLES & Y/N
yourusername omg no he's in a long term relationship & i'm not at all interested 😭😭
user26 charles x y/n is still possible then!!
yourusername not the picture of me and the sushi 🤣 my one true love!
charles_leclerc i think you prefer the sushi to me
yourusername you'd be right!!
user27 wait guys i'm a new fan who is this??
user28 y/n l/n!! she's charles' childhood best friend from monaco (and we're all 99% sure they're in love)
2022
liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 729,090 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc the only person who continually manages to pull off white regardless of the weather ☀️ happiest of birthdays to you y/n! love you more each year ❤️
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user29 JUST ADMIT IT UR IN LOVEEEE
user30 L-O-V-E
user31 hey alexa play you are in love by taylor swift (listen until it gets in ur head pls!)
user32 literally: "pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was, he is in love"
yourusername I LOVE YOU 💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user33 they're lovers, your honor.
yourusername don't get in the way of me and one direction
pierregasly are they not over??
yourusername SHUT UP GASLY IM IN DENIALLL
user34 she's truly one of us!!
2023
liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 1,033,994 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc my very best friend and now, i can officially say, the woman i am very much in love with. happy birthday y/n - thanks for putting up with me all these years ❤️❤️
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user35 CHARLES X Y/N CONFIRMEDDD
user36 THE CAPTION?? THEY ADMITTED THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IM CRYING
user37 AND THE LAST PICTURE?? I LOVE THEMMMM
yourusername my love forever 💘💘
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
user38 parents pls adopt me i beg
yourusername THE FIRST PIC HELP i did NOT think you'd post that
charles_leclerc why wouldnt i 🤷♂️
francisca.cgomes what are you doing with MY WIFE 😖
yourusername idk PLEASE come pick me up baby he's annoying me sm rn ❤️❤️
francisca.cgomes dw on my way rn 🙏
pierregasly oh???
charles_leclerc it would seem we've been replaced, pierre!
2024
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,801,332 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc MY girlfriend!! happy birthday y/n l/n; 14 year old me would be very happy to call the girl he'd been in love with since a kid his girlfriend ❤️
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yourusername 14 year old me would be screaming crying throwing up right about now, if it's any consolation
charles_leclerc 🤣🤣❤️
user39 THE WAY THEY LOVED EACH OTHER AS KIDS ASW I CANT
user40 the definition of soulmates i can't
user41 PARENTSSS
user42 i need to find me someone who loves me the way charles loves y/n
yourusername in all realness though kika is my gf sooo idk what the caption is about buddy!
francisca.cgomes righttt?? 😘😘
charles_leclerc so should i change the caption orrr?
yourusername NOO i have to flex my relationship somehow 🤷♀️
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#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#mclqren#smau#formula one x y/n#f1 x female reader
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Edits (CL16)
Summary: When Carlos exposes Y/n watching edits of her boyfriend on Instagram. She’s incredibly embarrassed, but after an interesting conversation with the man himself, should she really be?
Warnings: nothing i dont think lmk tho
"Bye, baby! I'll see you in a little." Charles smiled down at his girlfriend as his thumb caressed the side of her face.
She smiled up at him, accepting the kiss he planted on her lips, before letting out a small "bye" and watching him walk out the door.
"I am not going to lie, Y/n. You are pretty cute together." Carlos said as he watched his partner walk out.
Y/n laughed before looking at her boyfriend's best friend, "Thank you? Did you not think that before?"
"Yes, I did. I just realized I never told you." He said, his accent bleeding into his voice and the smirk on his face deepening. Carlos had known how 'cute' they were from the start. He had endured the long rants from Charles about Y/n and how pretty she was. It had taken Charles so long to ask the girl out and when he finally had, Carlos almost threw his hands up and rejoiced. The poor monegasque had spent months pining over the girl and it was obvious she liked him too, but neither party took the chance. Until Charles did. Since then, the two had fallen in love, moved into together, and practically gotten engaged with how much they talked about their future together.
Y/n shook her head, a big smile evident on her face, as she took out her phone, prepared to waste an hour or two on her phone while she waited for her boyfriend to come back. After about 30 minutes on Instagram, she moved to TikTok. It was no secret Y/n found her boyfriend extremely attractive considering the multiple times she had shamelessly checked him out or said outloud how hot he was, however, the girl's 'For You Page' was something of another nature. Endless scrolling to find that the only videos were edits of Charles. She wouldn't ever like them, trying to keep a low profile, but she would move them to her favorites. Whenever Charles was away or they had a busy day and they hadn't seen each other, she would open that page of favorites and scroll for hours, reliving everything her boyfriend was and is. When she opened the app, she always tried to be alone, knowing what lied within the app's algorithm for her. Although, she had completely forgotten about Carlos who had moved to sit behind her at a table while they rested in Charles' racer suite. So, when the Spanish racer caught a glance of what his friend's girlfriend was watching over her shoulder, he had to hold in his laugh. Immediately, and with absolutely no hesitation, Carlos whipped out his phone and opened to his camera app. Taking a few second video of F1's favorite girlfriend watching thirst trap edits about her boyfriend was something he knew would be extremely funny and something that would go viral.
Clearly, Carlos could care less about the embarrassment Y/n would later hold.
Which she did. After a few minutes of Carlos having posted the video on his Instagram story, thousands had saw it and reposted it. Y/n was quick to turn around in her seat and see the mischievous grin laid out on the Spaniard.
"CARLOS!" She yelped, her phone waving around in her hand. He didn't say anything back, he just began to laugh. Hard.
The y/h/c haired girl's cheeks flushed as she groaned, knowing how much the rest of the paddock would tease her for this. Before either of them could say anything, the man of the hour strolled through the door.
"Hey, guys!" His smile melted Y/n's heart and she almost forgot all about the TikTok situation. Almost.
Charles' smile dropped as he saw the worry etched into the face of his girlfriend.
"What's wrong?" He said, his eyes frantically searching over her body.
"Charles, give me your phone." "Look at your Instagram." Both Y/n and Carlos said at the same time, making Charles eyes dart towards Carlos. Y/n glared at the man whose number was 55 and she silently pleaded, with her hands out, for Charles to give her his phone. She didn't know what she was going to do if he gave it to her, but it sounded something like deleting every app off his phone.
Charles gave a confused look to the two before his phone dinged. Y/n watched in horror and Carlos watched in amusement as Charles scrolled through his notifications before clickling his screen a few times and pausing, his warm smile being replaced by that toothy grin he gave Y/n when he thought she was cute as he looked at her through his lashes. Y/n hid her face in her hands before Charles broke the silence.
"Are you- Are you watching edits of me?" He said it in disbelief as he moved closer to her, giving Carlos a shooing motion which they both knew was him telling Carlos to get out of the room. Carlos listened, Y/n hearing shuffling as he exited the room. She felt Charles' warmth radiating towards her as he began to stand over her, slowly taking her hands in his and lowering them to her sides. When he could see her beautiful face, as he loved to call it, he brought her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
"Don't be embarrassed, ma chérie, it's cute. Plus, it's not like I don't do it too." Y/n's face scrunched up in confusion as she met his eyes that were already focused on her.
"You watch edits of yourself?" Charles only laughed at this before tightening his hold on her, pulling her flush against him.
"No, gioia mia, I watch edits of you." Her face was overtaken by more confusion.
There were edits of her?
"Yes, of course. People aren't blind, mon amour." It took her a second to understand that what she had thought in her head had come out of her mouth as well, but when she did, Charles was already taking out his phone and opening TikTok. She watched as he slid through the app to find his page of favorites. She scanned the rows of videos and found that they were all of her. She couldn't help the smile that began to find its way on her face as he continued to scroll down and proved that every video was of her.
He leaned down and kissed her, pulling away to look her in the eye as he said,
"What do you think I do when I'm away on my work trips?"
#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine
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midnights, 9 * mv1
max finds out you'd gone to the club with alexandra, making him wonder if it’s really over when pictures of you and another man leak
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings:
notes: nah when i finish this, i WILL be milking the whole series because this is my only breakup outlet left like damN
(series masterlist)
(prev) // (next)
max could not stop thinking of you all day - all week, in fact. ever since a rumour had started going around that he's moving on with another woman, he could only have imagined what it's like for you to see that.
it sucks because he'd just been doing nelson piquet a favour - bringing kelly into the paddocks for a race under his pass. but nothing more ever went down between them.
he could only think of how your hands go cold at the rumour and heart absolutely shattering. he admits that he thought of sending you a text that night, but cowered away at the fear of your rejection for his explanation. maybe you no longer cared about what he's doing with his life.
he knows that because you unfollowed him on instagram and every other social media platform alike. you have even taken it upon yourself to unfollow his private account, his profile riddled with pictures and memories of the two of you together that he has not had the courage to delete just yet.
the only reason that he is aware of your sudden decision to distance yourself from him after the breakup is when he was confused about the notable lack of you on his timeline. when he checked, you were just another account he is now a stranger to.
he believes it was brought about by the dating rumours. because he used to stalk you all the time.
all. the. time.
"max, mate," daniel's voice makes him lift his head, eyebrows raising as a response. daniel's lips carve into a smile before it quickly disappears without anyone else noticing. "i said do you wanna grab some drinks at the bar? charles is already there."
max hesitates. the urge to be alone in his hotel room is real; curling up in bed while he listened to his mellow playlist while he debates once more if he should reach out. but against his better judgement, he nods with a small smile on his face as he starts to follow behind the older man.
"so, how are you feeling?" daniel asks, turning to him with a polite smile as they walk. "better, hopefully?"
with a halfhearted smile, max shrugs. "a little."
"progress is still progress," daniel reassures him with a pat on his shoulder, "it will still get better from here. you know that."
max nods. but there's still a yearning for you that he can't explain or get over. while he can understand that time is needed apart from you, things are not seemingly going towards his favour, or at least the way he wants it to go.
his chances of getting back together with you are slim. he really wants to, but he cannot bear the thought you having to say goodbye to you a second time.
but if he had the chance to do it all over again with you, he’d try to change the course of time if it meant having you back in his arms.
he tries to get you off his mind by moving on to other topics of conversation. but all he can think about is how you could have been here, arm around his waist as you leaned into his body while giggling over something daniel said to you.
you should have been at parc ferme following every race finish with your arms opened wide, welcoming him in for a wide smile and a tight hug.
but you never are.
and it doesn't help that now he's at the bar, there's charles and alexandra exchanging loud conversation about an event she attended back home.
"oh yeah," alexandra laughs unknowingly as they approach, "she was wild that night! she took body tequila shots from this guy! and we'd just met him that night. it was insane."
daniel pops his head between the couple with a lazy smile on his face. "who took body shots from a random guy they met at the bar?"
alexandra whips her head around, locking eyes with max. she laughs nervously as charles puts his hand over her knee. "just my friend back home."
max looks at her knowingly, taking his seat in the opposite booth. "it's (y/n), isn't it?" he asks, looking at the menu. everyone falls silent as he scans the menu for something to drink, prompting him to look up, slightly annoyed. "else, why wouldn't you elaborate to daniel when he asked?"
"hey," charles says, exchanging a glance with alexandra next to him. he squeezes her hand and sits up, leaning towards max. "what's your problem?"
"nothing," max answers in the calmest tone he can find within himself, "it's just odd that she tried to cover it up when it's so obvious." he turns to daniel. "wasn't it?"
daniel stares at him, visibly gulping and then glancing at the couple that sits across them.
"i didn't know you were already here," alexandra explains, dropping her head low. "i would have stopped way earlier."
"why would you?" max smiles, albeit halfheartedly, then looks down at the menu again. "we've broken up, right? she can do what she wants - i'm not her problem anymore."
"right," alexandra nods, pressing her lips together and sinking into her seat. she gives daniel a small smile before taking a sip of her cocktail. "sorry."
"hey," charles says again, putting both hands on the table. "you fucked up. don't take it out on alex that you're upset (y/n) is no longer with you. weren't you the one who let her walk out?"
max looks up immediately, mouth agape as he tries to process the words that charles just spoke. it's true that max let you walk out, which is what hurt the most. and it's, in fact, unfair that he is being like this.
max just sighs. "you're right." he turns to alexandra. "i'm sorry, alex. i shouldn't have taken it out on you."
alexandra just smiles, nodding understandingly. "it's okay. breakups are hard, max. i shouldn't have been talking about it knowing you'd be here any second, anyway."
"okay," daniel finally speaks, hands held up between the three of them. "let's just have a peaceful dinner, alright? no more breakup talks - this is an enjoyable evening."
they murmur in agreement with a nod. but the tension is the air never lightens up, and neither does the churning in max's stomach which is increasingly getting harder to ignore.
there's something about the phone in max's pocket that's making him itch to check it.
so after they send their orders in, his friends immediately fall into a conversation and he fishes for his phone in his back pocket. there's only one notification.
one that told him he's justified for feeling sick.
don't react
they're just pictures
it's from victoria. he opens the message, received about 10 minutes ago when he left the paddocks with the older alpha tauri driver. he can almost imagine the pictures, even if victoria hadn't taken the liberty to curse him with the pleasure of seeing them.
so he opens instagram.
just as fate would have it, you're at the top of his timeline from some f1 gossip page that he had no idea he followed. in the first one, your face can be barely made out, crouched down as you step out of the backseat of a car with alexandra still in the car. but he recognises the dress - it's one that he got you a couple of years ago, after winning his first race with you as his girlfriend.
the sheer will you've got to be on a night out in a dress that he got you is something he has to give to you. that's absolutely one way to get back at him after the pictures of him and kelly.
something tells him it's about to get worse. and it does, because when he swipes to the next picture, it's you visibly looking intoxicated, he assumes from all the body shots you took. and his heart skips a beat in his chest as his mouth runs dry.
there it is, some guy holding the car door open for you. in the next, he's seen scooching in with you in that backseat.
"are you alright, mate?" charles' voice makes him look up as he drops his phone into his lap.
max takes a deep breath, unable to force a smile to his face. he just nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.
charles' stare on him lingers before he nods hesitantly and resumes the conversation with daniel. max's eyes shift to alexandra, now staring at her phone with parted lips.
she looks up, meeting his eyes with a worried stare.
max just shakes his head before she can say anything. he just leans back into the seat and folds his arms over his chest.
guess it's really over now between you.
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#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#f1 x reader#f1#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfiction#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke midnights
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Heyy jenn i really like ur writing and i have this request maybe u can do where ruby and reader have mommy-dayghter day and they just spend the whole day together in monaco and when they come home ruby keep talking abt how good it was to charles 🩷
girlhood | baby leclerc
thank you anon for the request!! i had a lot of fun with this one <3
note: i am not accepting anymore requests!
Charles had spent a whole day with Mathéo and his brothers, just the boys so Ruby considered it a boys day. In response, Ruby told her maman she wanted to spend the whole day doing the things they love like getting their nails done and going to different stores. Their girls day started with Y/n making pancakes with sprinkles in them.
“Can I have more whipped cream? And a cherry!” Ruby asked, stabbing her pancake with her fork.
“Only because you said please.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and grabbed the can of whipped cream and put some on Ruby’s pancake. As she walked to the refrigerator to get the container of cherries, she heard Ruby say a ‘good morning’ to Charles and Mathéo, who had just woken up.
“Sprinkle pancakes, is it someone’s birthday?” Charles wondered since Y/n only made those kind of pancakes for the kids’ birthdays.
“I thought miss Ruby deserved some special maman pancakes to start our girls day off. She even gets some extra cherries.” Y/n walked back to the dining table with the container of cherries and placed one on to Ruby’s pancake.
“Special maman pancakes?!” Mathéo gasped.
“This is for girls only, Théo. You and papa had pizza for your boys day!” Ruby said as she continued eating her breakfast.
“There’s extra in the microwave,” Y/n whispered to Charles. “Ruby, finish up, there’s a lot we have to do today.”
After leaving the Leclerc household, Y/n and Ruby first began their girls day adventure with getting their nails done. Ruby picked a pink nail look while Y/n went with a simple red nails.
“Maman, look! It’s pink!” Ruby wiggled her fingers once the nail technician was done with the girl’s nails.
“You look so pretty, baby.” Y/n replied.
“Thank you, miss!” Ruby said to the nail tech.
“Hey, Ruby, why don’t you pick what we do next?” Y/n suggested.
“I can pick anything?” Ruby asked, clearly not believing that she had full control of their girls day.
“Anything.”
And that’s how the mother and daughter ended up in a bakery that was having classes on how to make the perfect cake for any occasion. Y/n knew this was something Ruby wanted to do since forever. Ruby always asked her parents if she could take a baking class, but the family was always busy with attending races, school or going to another country.
“Chef Ruby, are you ready?” Y/n asked the toddler. The bakery’s owner even gave everyone attending the class their own apron. Ruby’s was a bit big on her, but she didn’t mind at all.
“Ready! I want to make a cake for grand-mère because she couldn’t be here with us.” Ruby said. Pascale was in her salon so she couldn’t go with Ruby and Y/n to their girls day, but Ruby was going to make sure Pascale didn’t miss out.
“We need more sparkle . . . right over here.” Ruby pointed to the side of the cake that needed more ‘sparkle’.
As Y/n spread the frosting on the cake, Ruby made it her job to make the cake full of color. In the end, the duo loved how their cake came out.
“Do you think she’s going to like it?” Ruby asked as she walked hand in hand with her maman.
“She’s going to love it, Ruby Jules. You did a great job.”
“Maman, there’s a man pointing a camera at us.”
Y/n never thought she would ever have to deal with paparazzi when she was alone with her children. To anyone, she seemed like a any other mother having lunch with her daughter. But then again, she lived in Monaco and most tourists that came to Monaco knew of F1 and of course Charles. She was photographed many times in the paddock so obviously whoever knew Charles could recognize his wife.
“Just ignore the man, Ruby. Eat your food, baby.” Y/n changed her seat to the one across from Ruby so the paparazzi couldn’t get a view of Ruby.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, but could I get a picture? If not, I understand. Again, I’m sorry for interrupting.” A blonde girl and her friend came up to the table with her phone in hand.
“Hi, don’t worry. I’m just happy it’s not paparazzi coming up to the table. Of course we can take a picture.” Y/n happily agreed and waited for the girl to give her phone to her friend so they could pose for the picture.
“You look cool!” Ruby gave them a thumbs up which caused the girls to laugh.
“Thank you. I love your nails. Pink looks great on you.” The blonde girl said to Ruby.
“Thank you. My maman has red nails, but next time we are going to match.”
“I bet they’ll look really cool.”
After saying a quick goodbye to the girls, Ruby and Y/n were on their way to their next activity which was going to Ruby’s favorite garden, Roseraie Princesse Grace. It was the first garden Ruby ever visited and she loved it ever since.
“Are you tired yet?” Ruby asked her maman.
“I don’t think so, are you?” Ruby laughed and shook her head.
When Charles heard the door open, he was met with his girls laughing as Y/n put down their shopping bags.
“What did my girls do today?” Charles asked.
“Can I tell him? Pleaseeeee!” Ruby smiled at her maman.
“Go ahead.”
“We went to the garden! Wait, we did our nails and we made a cake with sparkles and I even got my own . . . what is it called? I don’t know, but I made a sparkle cake and it looks yummy but it’s not for you, papa! It’s for grand-mère! And maman took a picture with a nice girl and they looked so cool!”
liked by isahernaez, charles_leclerc and 674,930 others
y/nleclerc: ruby jules and maman day 🤍
isahernaez mis lindas!! las amo ❤️ (my pretty ones!! i love you❤️)
y/nleclerc we miss you auntie isa 🫶🏼
carmenmmundt everyday should be ruby jules and maman day!
y/nleclerc next girls day, you’re invited c❤️
charles_leclerc théo and i missed you and ruby jules
y/nleclerc your 253536 calls are proof
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Your bed is enough
synopsis: after experiencing a not so nice day at work, Diluc decides to stay at your place tonight
prompt: 27
requested by: @bobaboob
pairing: Diluc x fem!reader
tw: pure fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are engaged)
word count: 1.2k+ words
a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!
It feels like hours have passed since the moment Diluc put the key from the tavern in his jacket’s pocket and took your inviting hand to follow you home. Though home in your and his case could mean two places - either the winery, where he offered you to move in with him a couple of months ago, which with the recent engagement feels absolutely right, or your apartment, situated in the city itself.
And tonight it’s the latter.
Diluc rarely complained and even more rarely he complained out loud, but the evening was worse than he could ever remember. Nothing functioned right - both Charles and a couple of waitresses had fallen sick the day before (he’s gonna find and strangle that merchant from Inazuma who’d offered them, as it turned out, expired snacks from his land), the number of patrons was surprisingly and almost overwhelmingly high, some barrels came with broken taps and he’ll have to deal with extra work tomorrow both with the casks’s supplier and the workers who missed the defect… Oh, and then one of the drunkards must’ve been in such a stupefied haze that he mistook the red-haired male with someone and intentionally spilled a bottle of wine all over his already messy uniform, blaming him for seducing his wife and taking her away from him. The Ragnvindr nearly exploded back then, and the man was out of the door before he could realize who’d he just offended.
You got it - the evening was horrendous.
And even now, in a bath, in your oh so familiar bathroom, in the comfort of your - now also shared - living space, with you getting ready for bed on the other side of the door, he can’t shake off that exhaustion that enveloped him like a heavy cocoon. Hopefully he’ll manage to scrub the smell of alcohol off of him at least.
When he emerges into the bedroom with a towel on his head and some loose sleeping pants sitting low on his hips, he finds you standing in front of your bed, already dressed for sleep, and staring at the piece of furniture with utmost concentration. There is a line between your brows, your pretty lips are pursed and arms crossed. In his eyes even this looks ethereal - if that’s one of the views he’s going to witness once you become his wife - getting to see you focused and serious while helping the winery owner with his work affairs, - then he wants to marry you as soon as possible. He really can’t wait to add another ring to that beautifully crafted engagement one on your finger.
Forcing himself out of his blissful dreams and deciding to finally ask what brought you to such a state, Diluc makes his presence known with a polite cough. You immediately whip your head in his direction, and the previous signs of your brooding are gone, replaced with a soft smile and a bright glimmer in those eyes he loves so much.
“Oh, you are out already,” uncrossing your arms, you make a step closer and he does the same, until you two are standing in front of each other and your hands reach to the towel. “Are you feeling better, dear?”
“Somewhat,” he answers honestly, lowering his eyelids, letting you wipe the heavy mass of his hair dry. “Do I still smell of alcohol?”
“Hmm…” You move your face even closer, sniffing air close to his chest. “No, I don’t smell any. Oh wait, how about here…” and you shamelessly press your face into his neck, making the man shudder and open his eyes. You caught him off guard and shook him out of his drowsy state.
“My flame?” He feels your hands still in his hair and you softly giggle, tickling the sensitive skin even more.
“What?” Is muffled against his shoulder and Diluc shakes his head. But there is a slip of an adorning smile and he can practically feel some weight of the evening disappear.
“Nothing, my dear. If you haven’t suffocated yet, then there is none.”
You plant a kiss where his neck and shoulder connect and draw your face away, tugging the towel and completely dragging it off of his head. Ah, here it is, the bright grin he loves so much and readily mirrors in response.
“Yeah, there is none. Only an amazing smell of my body wash. Now you smell like me.”
“And I am honored,” he says sincerely, to which you happily hum, disappearing in the bathroom and reappearing only a moment after. “But I can’t help but wonder what got you so deep in thought?”
At first you raise a brow at him, but when he motions to the bed it clicks, and you hum, long and thoughtful.
“Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking that maybe I should get a new bed. You know, enough to fit two people?”
Ah, that’s what it was about. Admittedly, Diluc is a big man - both tall and muscular, and you have only a one-person’s bed, which he alone could take over completely if lying sprawled. He knows he could always take the couch, but in those few times he stayed at your place, you insisted on sleeping together. And those closely tight embraces under the same blanket are ones of the fondest memories the redhead possesses.
“You know, we could redecorate this place a little and use it more frequently when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to go all the way to the winery. And the bed could be the first step.”
“Is your bed cramped when we sleep together?”
He is as surprised as you are when the question hangs in the air - he didn’t expect it to just burst out of his mouth. However, he also doesn’t want to let go of this tight, but so comforting space just yet - admittedly, it gives him some indescribable sense of completeness.
You stare at him silently, as if trying to guess what he’s thinking about and what answer he expects. But nothing is better than the truth itself.
“It is,” crimson eyes widen slightly and are immediately cast down. Not letting him dwell long on whatever he’s already imagined in his head, you step closer, touching his scarred forearm, gently gliding your fingertips over the skin, asking for his attention. And when he gives you just that, Diluc sees a reassuring smile. “In the good way.”
You chuckle softly when he releases a sigh of relief, and reach to cup his cheek, feeling your heart skip a beat when he leans into your open palm.
“But I am worried that you are uncomfortable. I see how much you love to stretch in the morning while in bed at the winery, and there is not enough space in my bed. And I can be in the way of your outstretched arm-”
“You are never in the way,” the words are firm and the dancing flame in the depths of his eyes is proof enough. “You are right by my side. And that’s why it’s perfect.”
“Oh, you…”
With the trilling laughter you let him fall onto his back, landing on the soft mattress, and draw your body right on top of his. Your chemise rides up, bearing your thighs, and rough fingers don’t wait long to dig into plush skin. You stare down at him, with palms firmly planted on his wide chest, feeling the steadily beating heart under the fingertips, relishing in the appreciative look he is giving you. And for all of that and so much more your bed is perfect, because it's enough.
#pearlywritings appreciation event#token of appreciation#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#diluc x reader#diluc x fem!reader#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc ragnvindr#genshin impact fluff
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𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴
pairing - arthur leclerc x reader
summary - cute and (hopefully) short moments in arthur and reader’s relationship written in headcannons
a/n - tada! another one, to be honest they’re short and fun to write especially when i need to post something
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
baby pictures-
~oh my god Pascale would be your best friend
~i imagine her whipping out like a dozen family albums and like one of them just full of just being pictures of baby Arthur
~he is so baby
~i think you and Pascale would just sit there for a couple hours with tea or hot chocolate and she would explain every detail of every picture
~and then eventually he would come home to find his mother and girlfriend on the couch looking at his baby pictures
~i think he would start screaming his little head off at first and then he would get really cocky (as usual) and be all like, ‘yeah i was a really cute baby wasn’t i’
hugs and kisses-
~ugh this man would be so whipped
~i feel like the whole fic universe and booktok all are absolutely crazy about the whole hugging their waist from behind
~early morning kisses, kisses before he leaves for a race, kisses after races, kisses before bed
~i can imagine at Christmas when you’re with Arthur’s family and the two of you are just on the couch cuddling the the whole time and Charles and Lorenzo are just like stop while Pascale keeps laughing and taking pictures
~ugh i see too much fluff
~have y’all seen that one picture i’ll put it down below at the end
playing with their hair-
~whether you have curly hair, straight hair, wavy hair, i’m pretty sure that Arthur is obsessed with your hair
~like just playing with it while you’re cuddling and watching a movie or while your in bed and you have just woken up
~this is actually such a cute idea for anyone to be honest
~i also think that he would try to lean his to braid and then eventually more complicated styles like fishtail or Dutch
~i think it would be equally cute if you played with his hair once in a while
beach days-
~uh, what happened to matching bathing suits
~okay okay, besides all that i think the two of you would have a beach day when you’re on vacation or you’re Monaco for something
~maybe you would go with Charles and Lorenzo and their girlfriends or maybe the two of you would go by yourselves
~you think the two of you would help each other out on sunscreen in areas you can’t reach and definitely some areas that are meant to tease each other
~maybe a little quick kiss here and there
~omg maybe the really cute picnic basket with the whole checkered blanket
~and white roses 🥹
~okay here’s that picture :
#arthur leclerc#arthur leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc fluff#arthur leclerc x y/n#f2#f2 x reader#f2 imagine#formula 2#formula two#original writing#original post
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Self Reflection: Will Halstead x Reader
Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @rosaliedepp @annieradcliff @zepskies @drunkangels @zaidatorcuatomorgado
@gummybabey @mrspeacem1nusone @sowrongitslottie @s1lverhand @mysoulisasunflower @thebewingedjewelcat @luckyladycreator2 @zephyrmonkey @bluecrush129 @anime-weeb-4-life @legit9thlunaticwarrior @upsteadlogic @nu1freakshow @whovianwholikesgirls
Part of the “Moment of Madness” Series:
Companion Piece to:
Done: - Will tells Jay he’s done.
Smoke Break - Will can't stand to see you with another man.
Prequel to:
Perfume - Will realises he’s not the only one who still has feelings.
Stand Up - Will decides to take a stand in the middle of your wedding ceremony.
Moment of Madness - Will and you dicuss the wedding.
It’s only after Will’s undertaken therapy that he realises that he’s rewritten your history. When he looks back at your relationship, especially over those last few months he realises how much of a bad partner he really was. He had blamed you for his failures, for his moods, he didn’t have issues but clearly you did.
He sees how wrong he was when he starts to address them with Doctor Charles. He’s been battered down over the years by his father, his job, the women in his life. His sense of self-worth eroded to nothing.
Why are you punishing yourself? You had asked him at one point.
He never saw his own emotional state like that, he was simply getting what he deserved.
Now he understands that his father had narcissistic traits, that Will became his whipping boy until he broke away. He doesn’t know how he had the strength to do that because truly, there are usually only two ways children of a narcissist go and for such a long time he was completely embroiled in his father’s narrative.
He tells you these things when the two of you meet up at Molly’s. He’s the one that finally breaks the code of silence between the two of you, reaching through the no man’s land that he created.
It doesn’t change anything, not really. You’re still engaged to another man. Will wishes that wasn’t the case but it is.
“I don’t want anything from you.” He tells you. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry, that you were right, I needed to get some help.”
You lean back in your chair. There’s an ache in your chest, you can feel it spreading through your arms and shoulders because the only thing you have ever wanted for Will is to be happy, to get healthy. It’s taken the demise of your relationship to get him there. It hurts more than you care to admit, there’s a grief building up inside of you because you wish you could have undertaken the journey with him, supported him, instead of ending up on the path that you’re on.
Will sees the emotion in your features, his brown eyes soften as his hand comes to rest on yours.
“It wasn’t your fault.” He says. “I needed the wake-up call and you leaving was it.”
He doesn’t understand.
You can’t tell him that every day when you wake up next to Matt, you forget for a second that he’s not Will, that every time you roll over your heart sinks a little. You can't say that it’s him you think of when Matt fucks you, the things the two of you have done together in the dark and it gets you off much quicker than anything Matt has ever done. You can’t tell him that despite the fact it’s been a year that you still love him, that you never stopped loving him.
“I’ve gotta go.” You say quietly, pulling your hand out from underneath his and snatching your jacket up from the back of the chair.
When you step out into the night, you feel the tears streak down your cheeks, and you know that you’ve made one of the biggest mistakes of your life.
Love Will? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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Catboy Charles x F! Reader - Part 7
Tags: A very needy Charles has some "self-care time" *ahem*
Part 6
It's hard to believe this all isn't some kind of hallucination or crack dream, but as the days stretch into weeks you stop questioning how your cat turned into a very pretty boy. There are far more pressing issues to focus on anyway, like finding a better job so you can feed two mouths and pay the rent.
Fortunately, and unfortunately, Charles is determined to be helpful. Yet because he doesn't know how to do much on his own, it means you have to teach him everything first even if it would be much faster for you to do yourself. The first time you said that though, he sulked the whole morning and then took to begging the day after.
“Please, please, please, please, ma maîtresse. Let me do the dishes. I want to help. I love you so much. Please let me show you. I promise I'll be good! I promise I won't break another glass! Je vous en prie, ma maîtresse!!”
Somewhere between annoyed, exhausted, and charmed, you gave in. It was all downhill from there. He wouldn't take no for an answer after that. So, for the last two weeks, he's been cleaning the house as best he can, doing the laundry, and watching the cooking channel all day in the hopes that one day you'll let him take care of you.
If you were more honest with yourself, you would have to admit that it's been nice to have someone to come home to, someone to ask how your day went and give you a big hug the moment you step over the threshold. It would be a little nicer if it didn't give you feelings so complicated that you end up with a headache though.
He's so affectionate and adoring, but he also has no sense of typical social boundaries, or any boundaries at all really.
“Charles, I've told you before that you can’t just walk around the house naked!!” you squeak as he gives you a big hug the moment you walk through the door.
“Why not?” he pouts and takes your bag for you.
“You have to wear clothes!!”
Helping you take off your jacket he says the same thing as he always does when you scold him. “I don’t like them. They’re uncomfortable.”
“Yes, but you just have to wear them! That's just how it is.”
Following you the two steps from the door to kitchen he counters, “You know you don’t like them either. You always used to sleep without them…”
“That…” you stutter and clamp your eyes shut. “Is different… and that was before you turned into a… man…”
“Why is it different and what does it have to do with me?” He's frowning when you look over your shoulder at him.
Putting your head down on the kitchen counter you try to explain again, “You can’t just walk around naked in front of other people, Charles! That’s why I wear clothes and that’s why you have to wear clothes too!”
“I promise I’ll wear the clothes you bought me when we go out. There are no other people here. Why do I have to wear them?” His voice is coloured, not with its usual saccharine dejection, but with a new frustration.
“Because it’s embarrassing to see you naked!! That’s why!!” you snap and whip around to glare at his enchanting blue eyes.
“Why? You know what I look like. I’m just not fluffy anymore. I’m not embarrassed to see you without clothing. We’ve slept side by side without clothes every night for more than a year. Why do we need to cover up now?”
“Oh my god… Because… I couldn’t see that before,” you smack your forehead and point between his legs.
“Huh? Yes, you could. I didn’t wear pants as a cat. What are you talking about?”
“That was completely different!!! I never looked at it, and it wasn’t staring me in the face like it is now!!”
“Stare? It can’t stare. You’re the one staring,” he argues.
Voice rising an octave you squeak, “Yes!! Exactly!! And I don’t want to!! So put it away!!”
Crossing his elegant arms, he refuses to listen to you for the first time. “Just don’t look then. I don’t wanna wear clothes.”
“I can’t not look!! That’s why it’s embarrassing!!” you admit and bury your face in your hands.
“What do you mean you can’t not look? If you weren’t interested, you… wouldn’t… Oh?”
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. That is NOT the problem here, Charles!!!” you deny adamantly.
“Well, now it’s a problem for me. What am I supposed to do with this thing anyway? I can’t lick it anymore… It's been two whole weeks! Ma maîtresse…” he whines and clings to your arm in a plea for help.
You can feel the headache settling in. “No, Charles. You can work that one out yourself.”
“I tried, but I can't reach anymore…” he admits sheepishly and pokes his already hard length.
Knuckles to your temple, you take a big breath and remind yourself it's not his fault he needs to be cared for. He trails behind you as you motion for him to follow you to your bedroom.
“Sit,” you instruct before you rummage through your drawers for the lube you keep stashed there with your toys.
“Here, put out your palm.” He obeys and you squeeze a decent amount on his hand, then place a box of tissue by his side. “Use your hand instead of your mouth or whatever you did before. Just clean up when you're done.”
Not wanting to be quizzed any further for directions or demonstrations you bolt out of the room and shut the door. After just having arrived home from work you already feel a little frazzled, so you take a seat upside down on the couch and stare at the ceiling.
These days your mind is overloaded with to-do lists as long as a roll of toilet paper, yet whenever you get a moment alone you inevitably end up thinking about the same thing - where do you go from here? There are a few scenarios that play like reruns in your mind, so familiar you hardly think consciously about the details anymore.
If he stays human forever, you can look after him so long as he doesn't get sick, but that's not possible. Do you take him to the vet or to the hospital? He doesn't have national ID which means he doesn't have insurance either which means you have to pay for everything. Could you even get him citizenship?
More importantly, do you tell your family or keep him a secret forever? You can't keep him locked up in the house for the rest of your lives. And surely your parents will continue to pester you about who you're dating and when you're getting married.
But that begs the question, do you want a relationship with him? Can you realistically have a relationship with anyone else. It doesn't seem like he'd let you date another guy, but you doubt any sane man would want to date a girl who lives with a possessive catboy who calls her master anyway. You can't get married and keep Charles around. That would be too awkward.
Yet, you know you can't and won't abandon him. You don't want to let him go anyway. Whether he's human or cat, you can't bear the thought of your life without his warmth and affection. You didn't take him in just to kick him out when he's no longer convenient. You rescued him because you were already deeply attached to the neglected street cat. He pawed his way into your heart and that's where you want him to stay.
Derailing your spiraling thoughts - and yanking you back to the reality of just how tiny your apartment really is - you hear a sharp gasp echo through the thin walls. Your living room is right next to your bedroom and you expected you would hear some wet sound effects. What you didn't anticipate was to hear him mumbling your name, professing his love for you, and most shockingly, swearing like he's forgotten all other vocabulary.
As he gets closer and closer to the edge, he gets more and more vocal. Whimpering and gasping as he begs, “Please, please, please! Just wanna cum. It's been too long. It's been way too long. Need to cum. Need to get it all out. Need to love you. Need you to take it from me. Need you to take everything. Please, please, please, je vous en prie, ma maîtresse! Let me cum, let me cum, let me cum! Need to be inside you. Need to feel you. Need to make you happy. Just want you to love me. Please love me. Please don't hate me. Please forgive me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor- nnnnnghhh!
You hear him crying and shaking as he quickly falls into ecstasy and secretly breathe a sigh of relief that it's over. Or so you thought.
“Please, please, please, please ma maîtresse. Make me cum. Make me -ah- dumb. Don't wanna think. Good kittens don't need to think. Good kitties just need to serve. Minou serves best. Just -nnnng- please, please, please, ma maîtresse. Take it. Take it all. Make me stupid for you. I'll do anything! Please just take it all! Please, please, please, please, please please, please!”
Unmoving, you stare at the ceiling wide-eyed as he drowns in pleasure once more, the sweetest whimpers dripping from his lips. His ragged breathing is cut off by each aftershock that rolls through his body. His whimpers are punctuated with little sobs. Taking a deep breath, you abandon the sofa and fetch yourself a tall glass of water. But as soon as the faucet is turned off, you can hear other wet sounds seeping through the door.
“Please, I'm greedy, I'm greedy, I'm greedy. Just want it all out. Nnnnng! Je vous en prie, ma maîtresse. Je vous aime, je vous aime, je vous aime, je vous aime je vous aime. Just wanna cum again, just wanna feel good, just wanna make you feel good too. Please use me! Please use me until I can't talk anymore. Use me until I can't breathe. Use me however you want. Just please take it all. Let me fill you up. Let me cum. Let me cum. Let me cum, je vous en prie!!”
By the time you've choked on your water twice and given up on it all together you can hear him quietly sobbing your name over and over. When all that's left is the sound of harsh, strained lungfuls of air you pry open the door to check on him.
“Minou, would you like some water?” you ask almost cautiously.
He whimpers and nods. From the backlit sunshine filtering through your lace curtains you can see the tears that have pooled in his pretty moonstone eyes.
When you return with a fresh glass, he doesn't sit up to take it. Instead, he begins to apologize through huffs, “Msorry, ma maîtresse. Msorry… I made… such a mess… That was the only thing you asked of me… I'm sorry… I promise… I'll clean it up… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… I'm sorry… please forgive me…”
Up close you notice he's still trembling and decide to take a seat on the edge of the bed next to him, setting the water on the nightstand for now.
“Minou, I'm not upset and I'm not worried about the mess. I'm just worried about you… Are you okay? Didn't you push yourself a little too hard?” You can't help but reach down to brush the long lavender strands out of his eyes.
“Mmmmmm” he melts into your touch and begins to purr. “I'm okay… Just been… a little too long…” he huffs as his breathing finally calms.
“Well, as long as you feel better…” you mumble and tease the velvet back of his ears. He shakes a little under your touch and nuzzles into it. After a few quiet minutes, you dare “Can I ask why… you were thinking about me?”
Tilting his head to meet your gaze, he answers easily, “Who else would I think about making love to but the one I adore?”
The gentle smile on his face should soothe your nerves, but instead it leaves a knot in your stomach.
“Have you… always… thought about me… even when you… weren't human?”
“Mais oui.”
Part 8
Tag list: @loverofmanyrandomthings @misty-moth @cherryblubb @drachonia @nightghoul381 @fang-and-feather @uwu-lavender-uwu
Personal notes:
I added the tag list because I had no idea I didn't post the last two chapters. The previous chapter was posted right before I started preparing for a job interview for the job I started this week! Hurray me! Employment!! A lot happened between then and now ^^;;;
MORE IMPORTANTLYYYYY:
The insanely hot audio (Reddit) that inspired Charles' rambling dialogue *ahem*. Also here (soundgasm).
#ikemen vampire charles#ikemen charles#ikevam charles#ikevamp charles#charles henri sanson#ikevamp#ikevam#ikevamp fanfiction#ikevamp fanfic#catboys
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The Clicking of the Chain (The Silence of the Lambs Parody) (#1 of 2)
for kloktober day 11: horror movie crossover
It's a parody, not a crossover, and I used a lot of the original script for this sequence to make sure it 'accomplishes' similar things for the main plot. I've always wanted to do this sort of thing... I like doing kloktober pieces that are for me more than the audience, but I hope you enjoy this retelling of one of the most quoted scenes in The Silence of the Lambs featuring Charles Offdensen and Magnus Hammersmith.
tws: body fluids, sexual harassment
At the bottom of the stairs was a left turn into a dingy cream-colored space kin to a car rental window at a crusty regional airport. A bulletin board held seven year-old thank you cards and a sign-in sheet for personal visitors. From a slim staff door came a short man in his sixties in an Orioles ball cap and white coveralls and an extended hand.
“Hi, I’m Mashed Potato Johnson. He told you, don’t get near the bars?” Damien Cornickleson’s footsteps were still volleying down the stairwell.
“Charles Offdensen.” He took the handshake with a bit of a dip. ”Yes, he did.”
“Okay. Past the others, he’s in the last cell. Stay to the middle, now. I put out a chair for you.” He pointed through the door to the gray wall of the corridor, where there was a security camera mounted to the wall. “I’m watching. You’ll do fine.”
His even steps echoed down the dim corridor, lined on one side with cameras and the other with iron bars holding back men of all sorts of shapes and sizes and muttering. Right before he’d reached the end of the hall, a green, black, and white blur threw itself against the bars, bearing wet, darkly streaked, yellow teeth. The white cast on his face rubbed off on the iron, and his crudely-colored green mane of matted frizz was trapped in his grip on the lock.
“Cocaine!”
Charles flinched hard enough to set his glasses off-kilter, but he only stalled on a single step before he was standing squarely in front of Magnus Hammersmith behind bars.
His cell was kept more lit, and had the addition of nylon netting on the exterior side of the bars. The inside of Magnus’ cell was covered in swaths of butcher paper decorated with black and white modern art patterns of various scales, with or without interlocking phantograms of all manners of polygons.
Charles cleared his throat and lowered the briefcase in his hands. “Mr. Hammersmith, my name is Charles Offdensen. May I speak with you?”
Magnus looked up from his magazine, eyes shining behind the tight waves of his hair. His ankles stretched at least a foot past the hem of his hospital pajamas and his skin, historically photographed to be a warm medium tone, was bleached and dusty from the windowless basement floor. Despite the menacing angles of his face, his voice was indignant, not commanding.
“And good morning to you, too,” he sneered, then went back to his reading.
Charles took another step forward.
“Magnus, we’re having a hard time with a case, and we believe you might have some guiding information. Do you mind answering a short questionnaire?”
“ ‘We’ being the Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico… But what’s a suit like you doing there? Huh? Fraud investigation wasn’t the thrill you expected?” He chuckled at his own joke and tossed the magazine on the floor with a resonant slap. “You’re one of Roy Cornickleson’s, I expect.”
“I am, yes.”
“Show me.”
Charles whipped his wallet out of his pocket and opened it to his IDs, holding them out in front of them.
“Closer, Charles. I have two eyes, but only one of them works.”
Charles clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t make a face and inched closer each time, but didn’t dare lean.
“Expires in a week. You’re not real FBI yet, are you?”
“I’m still in training at the Academy.” Charles pushed his glasses back up to his nose and squared his feet.
“Old Roy’s showing me off to a trainee? Well-”
“We’re talking about investigation, Magnus. You can decide for yourself if I’m qualified.”
“Smart, Officer Offdensen. Sit down.”
The rusted hinges of the chair bent when he sat down. If he were any heavier, he’d have been tipped into the floor. Magnus mirrored him and sat back down on his cot.
“Now, what did Rockzo say to you? Don’t look stupid– Dr. Rockzo, the Rock n’ Roll Clown in the next cell. He lunged at you. What did he say?”
“He said, uh, ‘cocaine’.”
“Of course he did. He does cocaine. Or did. Whatever. But you… you don’t have that kind of money, do you? You brought your best briefcase to see me today, didn’t you?”
Charles pulled at his tie before he remembered to stop himself. “Sure.”
“It’s better than your shoes, but not great. Not the cocaine type.”
“Not now, no.” Just like that, Magnus was out of things to say, and started to bounce his leg. The movement of his subway-sized foot was comical… if he had a pair of spoons in his hand, they’d click together nicely. The nervous bouncing on such a long, flimsy frame made him look like a dancing toy.
“Did you do those drawings?”
“Yes. Do you care much for contemporary art?”
“I’m not familiar… they allow you to keep a compass?” One of the works was a system of interlocking circles, some of them chained together in links, and others that looked like they were out of a spirograph.
“No. The scratching of the pen is what I have instead of a tune. Can’t let me get a hold on wood or string, can they?”
Charles looked down as if bowing his head in church before taking out a questionnaire from his briefcase. He held his chest higher.
“Magnus, if you’d please…”
“I’ve had my fair share of shrinks and investigators, Offdensen. You’ve been courteous, you’ve established trust and complimented my art, but this segue into your little survey is a bunch of bullshit. It’s boring, it’s stupid, and that’s not going to cut it.”
“I’m asking you to look at it. Either you will or you won’t.”
Magnus snorted and stretched his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed. “Roy Cornickleson must be strapped for time hunting down the ‘Metal Masked Assassin’ if he needs help from the likes of amateurs like you. Did he send you here to ask me about him?”
“No, I-”
“How many people has he used up so far, that Assassin?”
“Five, so far.”
“Flayed?”
“Partially, but that’s an active case, and I’m not involved, s–”
“Do you know why he’s called the Metal Masked Assassin? The newspapers don’t say.”
“I’ll tell you if you look over this form.” Charles passed it into a metal hatch which opened on Magnus’ side when the door to the outside was closed. Once Magnus picked it up, Charles began…
“It, uh, started as a joke, about wearing their faces, like that one movie…”
“And you can’t remember the title.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Right.” Magnus set the questionnaire on the cot beside him. “Show me what you have to offer. Why do you think he takes their skins, Officer Offdensen?”
“Uh, well, most serial killers take a trophy, sometimes for excitement or-”
“I didn’t.”
“You ate them.”
“So it would seem.” He smirked and picked the forms back up, only to begin tearing them in a frenzy that exploded out of nowhere but the air around them. As he struggled, his grunts and the struggling, shearing sounds of ripping copy paper volleyed in the stony ward.
“You think you’re so clever, so ambitious, don’t you Chuck? You’re a fraud dressed like a bourgeois bagman. Good nutrition has given you well-fleshed features, but you’re not more than one generation from salty white trash, are you? That New England accent you prune so delicately to hide all the junkiness of Maine fishmarkets– What was your father, huh? Did you have one, or did he roll from his bed into the sea like every other frozen drunk on his lobster boat? I bet the other boys without fathers found you just fine in locker rooms, with wound, wet towels and cracked lips, while all you could think about was a less physical path of being, of being at all… and power. Powerful as the F.B.I…”
“You see a lot, but are you strong enough to look at yourself? Write it on the piece of paper.”
“And you’d love it, wouldn’t you?”
“If you weren’t a coward.”
“You think you’re tough one, aren’t you?”
“... I decline to comment.”
“Oh, but you’d hate if I thought you were anything but superior! It’d break you to little fucking pieces. Don’t worry, Charles. If you hold your head high enough, everyone will assume you’re tall someday soon.”
“And the questions?”
Magnus turned his back. Charles leaned forward in his seat and slammed the door of the meal hatch open and shut again. Magnus was up and snarling at the bars in a flash.
“A census taker once tried to test me, Charles. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. I hope a degree from Harvard will help you piece together that fucking around making noise in a ward of prisioners and psychos won’t give you a bigger dick! Go back to school. The boys miss you!”
He retreated from the bars to stand in front of one of his works, and Charles took his invitation to leave.
“Ooh, hoo, hoo, hoo!… Dr. Rockzo don’t feel so good. Ohh, it hurts, it’s all infected, shit all over this mess, ooh-hoo! K-k-k-lookit-”
When Charles paused at the cry, he took half a load of semen into his face from Rockzo’s hand. While he howled, Magnus bellowed, “You stupid fucking clown!” Charles fumbled in his pockets for a frayed pink tissue and tried not to let the clown’s cum anywhere closer to his eyes and mouth. Just when he’d passed Dr. Rockzo’s cell and saw the light streaming in from the room he was in before, away from the din rising up in the corridor, he heard Magnus shouting above them all.
“Officer Offdensen!”
With burning eyes and sharp features as contorted and pinched as the acid-trip Devil that leads partygoers to slit their wrists or jump out of bedroom windows, Magnus stood again at the bars of his cell. Charles hurried himself back over, although he couldn’t see further than his armspan while he carefully wiped the body fluids off the lens of his glasses.
The veins in Magnus’ neck were thick as snakes. “Look, I didn’t want that for you. Excretions are disgusting to me, and bad manners-”
“Then do the survey for me.”
“No, but I’ll do you one better. Advancement. Go to Split City, check on an old bandmate of mine, Ravenwood. Just like you think it’s spelled. Now leave. I don’t think Dr. Rockzo could manage again so soon, even if he is crazy. Don’t wait around to see– Go!”
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Arrival to the camping part 5/?
*twitch quartet sitting in the grass*
Lando: So I guess a lot will change, right?
George: What will?
Lando: Well, with Daniel, Seb, Mick and Latifi not being on the grid next season
Charles: Oh my gosh, I hadn’t even thought about that
George: *muttering* expectable when you aren’t used to
Alex: *Whipping George behind the head*
George: AUCH what the hell Alex
Alex: Shut up George, but Lando haven’t you heard Seb this morning?
Charles: I think, *side-eyeing George* that we were still hungover
Alex: Ugh, lightweights you are, anyway Seb told us this morning that not a lot is going to change
*Earlier this day*
Seb: So, as you guys know, i’m retired as a driver
*booing fill the room*
Seb: BUT. . . BUT . . , IF YOU GUYS COULD LET ME SPEAK, PLEASE?!
Lewis: *Claps his hands 3 times* GUYS
Seb: Thank you Lew, anyway what i wanted to say is that you won’t get rid of me this easily. I just spoke with Checo, Lewis, Fernando and Kevin, and we think it would be responsible to leave you guys with them.
Checo: Not really how we worded it
Kevin: Yeah it was more like
Fernando: *Imitating Seb* Wheep wheep i can’t live without those pain in the asses, as annoying they are they are like my children, wheep wheep.
Seb: EY i didn’t say they were pain in the asses
Max: So what, we’re annoying?
Alex: Well. . . I think we can’t disagree on that point to be fair…
Lewis: Guys, please let this man finish his story, the vein on his forehead is about to pop
Seb: As I was telling you guys, before I was interrupted, is that I am staying on the camping. Also whether Mick, Daniel and Nicky are staying is up to them. . . *looking at the 3 of them*
Daniel: I’d like to stay honestly, i think we’re going to have a blast and since i’m going to be a Red Bull reserve driver i’m still going to be on the grid
Nicky: Euhmm, I think I’m going home to my girlfriend. Although I think being here with you guys would be awesome, I'm afraid that my homesickness has already surfaced and euhmmm, going home is the right choice.
Mick: I’d really love to stay if you guys are okay with me doing so! I love it with you guys and, just like Daniel, I’ll also be on the grid as a Mercedes reserve driver.
Seb: I think I can speak for the whole grid to say that we love to have you continue staying here Daniel and Mick! And Nicky, we’re going to miss you. You’ve been incredible to have by our sides and you’re always welcome to visit us!
Max: What about the newbies?
Lewis: That was another thing we talked about, we suggest we take a vote on inviting them to also stay here?
Zhou: Seems solid
Seb: Who is not in favor of letting Logan, Oscar, Nyck and Nico stay here?
*nobody says anything*
Seb: Then it’s decided! I’ll text them and invite them.
*Back to the grass and the twitch quartet*
Lando: Well, that is a big relief, we definitely won’t survive without Seb
Charles: What about Daniel, Max would be so disappointed if he would leave
George: And it would just be a real shame if Mick wouldn’t be here, he is just so full of positive energy
Alex: I wonder if Logan, Oscar, Nyck and Nico would accept the invitation!
*Max, Pierre, Yuki and Guanyu we’re taking a walk over the camping when they saw the quartet sitting in the grass and sat down with them*
Lando: Has Seb heard back from them yet?
Max: Yeah, they accepted!
Yuki: This is going to be awesome! I won’t be the youngest anymore!!
Pierre: Awww, but you’re still going to be the shortest Yuki-san
Yuki: *growling*
Guanyu: Did you just. . . Growl!?!
George: How adorable!
Charles: Like a little puppy!!
Yuki: I so don’t like you guys. . . right now
Max: Deal with it, you’re not getting rid of us
Pierre: Yeah, suck my balls honey *wink*
#f1#f1 incorrect quotes#incorrect f1#incorrect f1 quotes#f1 imagine#f1goingcamping#seb and his grid kids#formula 1#formula one#f1 incorrect s
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my good friend ralph. he loves fishing above all other things. The guys would always ride him, on the job sites because its a build and escape mission from the bowels of the pentagon and ralphie would whip out his glasses and scrutinize the prints and the company's instructions, which no one ever reads, and say hey guys we are building it wrong we gotta start over. It made him the unpopular old guy with 30 years in. one day they send him up to our main office downtown to change the light bulbs. so he parked the van right in front on Charles street and, as we are all aware at 3pm they come with tow trucks and sweep the street. the rush hour charles street grab. they do it every day like clockwork. van gets towed away. our ceo, looks at ralph, who has slaved for the company for 25 years, in his eye and fires him on the spot. By the end of the day we all had heard. asshole brother number one fired ralphie. asshole.
next day, buttcrack of dawn, I arrive at the timeclock and there is ralphie. full uniform. so I go over and ask the obvious question, I heard about asshole, what happened? I thought you got fired? and ralphie looks at me almost tears in his eyes, I didnt know what else to do. Which, you all know immediately sent me to another planet. I said stay right there. I march off to the warehouse office and tell brother number 3 that ralph is outside and that guy has 25 years in your fucking company and you, little red headed step child brother, are going to send him out and grow a pair and tell your brother he is a dick. your sending him out with me or I fucking quit right here. my exact words. he sent him with me, I was number one east coast repair guy, would never accept a partner or helper. That day I did. he went with me that day and every day after. We met some cool people. my favorite client of all time was john astin. he was teaching an acting class at john hopkins. Ralph broke his grandaughters little clay paperweight. I said dude what the fuck I can't take you nowhere. mr. astin laughed at us and then called our boss, praised us and told them don't send anyone else. only greg n ralph. van number one. he was my favorite client, no ego in that man. the realest celebrity I ever met. Im getting my fishing license this week and giving ralphie a call.
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Man Comes Around
Red Dead Redemption
Arthur Morgan was buried on a pretty hillside facing west, and Conquest was torn from his grave, forced to ride again.
SFW, religious themes, rebirth, death of character
Arthur Morgan was buried on a pretty hillside facing west, laid to rest among the weeds and wildflowers, with a crudely bound wooden cross to proclaim his spot and a beautiful view as a backdrop. He was buried by a friend, a brother, who laid him down in the warmed earth and hesitated when it came time to cover him up. But in the end, it wasn’t really Arthur Morgan that disappeared under shovelfuls of dirt: it was a sickly husk, sallow skin and frail bone racked with disease, left behind after the hardened core of steel that had been the man had passed.
Charles Smith left the shovel there when the deed was done, and rode north, back to the fleeing people he had decided to follow, leaving behind the grave of a man he had gladly called friend.
oOoOoOo
Souls are not meant to come back to their containers. Birth is a violent, painful affair, made tolerable by the infancy of the soul entering the body. A grown man, however, that has lived and tasted life, known pain, joy, sorrow, and the tedious eventuality of death, experiences every single nuance of becoming again, and will find it just a different shade of dying.
Arthur Morgan choked on the first lungful of air, tasted foul soil in the back of his mouth and heaved, body rebelling against the experience. He writhed, bones shifting and catching against one another, rolled over on his side and retched, until finally his stomach contorted and spewed out the grave dirt. Again and again his frame heaved, shuddered, emptied, until the cold air could stab down his airways, rattle around in his lungs until they remembered their original purpose.
White hot pain skewered his head, threatened to burst out behind his eyelids, ran a course of liquid fire through his limbs, burning feeling back into his muscles. His heart was a ponderous thing, thudding heavily behind his thin ribcage, slow and sluggish as it familiarized itself with pumping again. Fingers twitched, toes rubbed, and finally, he was able to unclench from his fetal position.
Gradually, the white noise clanging in his ears receded, and he was aware of his own breath. Gasping, at first, something thin and broken and painfully familiar, but with each drag of icy cold air into his lungs the motion became easier and easier. Pale light warmed the back of his eyelids, the once harsh and painful stimulus now bearable, and cautiously he scrunched his eyes, experimenting on how much it would hurt to open them.
He gathered enough courage to blink one, twice, flecks of grave dirt slowly sliding away as his eyelashes unstuck from each other, and he was left staring up at a pale grey sky. His breath caught at the sight, then he coughed, his body rebelling at the hiccup to his already laboring system.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
The voice, deep and sonorous, sent a shiver of fear through his nerves, rubbing fragile bone against rebuilding muscle. His head whipped to the side, brain pounding and protesting again the inside of his skull at the jarring movement, forcing Arthur to close his eyes momentarily before fighting them open again.
The man was familiar in the most unusual way, like a half formed memory slinking around the side of his mind. It was in the way his hands clasped behind his back, the easy grace in the tall frame. Arthur slowly trailed his eyes down him, taking in the immaculate black suit and matching shoes, before returning to the man’s face, carved classical features embellished with a swooping mustache. It was his eyes that held him though, twin orbs of onyx staring down at the man laid out on the ground as if this was all perfectly normal.
“Who-” He broke off to cough at the sound of his own voice, forgetting for half a heartbeat as his vocal cords twanged in his throat, raw and bruised and protesting greatly.
The man waited patiently, making no move to assist Arthur, simply standing still until the coughing fit subsided.
“Where- where am I?” There was that phantom voice again, thin and reedy, so different from the booming snarl that he wanted to hurl at the stranger.
“A much better question than your original one,” the man blinked, his face shuttering for one moment, before he held a pale hand aloft and pointed at something behind Arthur’s head. “A pretty spot, to be sure.”
Arthur slowly tilted his head, followed the man’s finger, an unknown dread building up in his gut that solidified when he saw the crude cross, the painstakingly carved words upon it.
Feeling sick, he stubbornly looked away, choosing to stare at the sky again. “Is this hell?”
“No, this isn’t hell,” but the face still held amusement, whether at the naïveté of Arthur’s question or the question itself, he couldn’t be sure.
Arthur’s fingers on his right hand twitched, and he glanced down, bile rising up his throat when he saw the twining, slimy red flesh growing over naked bones.
“What the hell?!” It came out as a squawk, fear evident as a chill went down his spine, and he tried to jerk his hand up and away, but the appendage stubbornly stayed still. Breathless, he looked down again, and while his muddy, torn clothes hid most of his body from his sight, the fabric clung to him in a way that left little imagination to what was under them.
Another breath stuttered in his empty chest, white light blocking out his vision, the faint ringing in his ears becoming deafening once more.
The man shifted over him, pulled his mind back from the brink of total terror, and Arthur released the breath he’d been holding captive with another gagging cough.
“Takes some time, I’m afraid. You were pretty rotten by the time I got here.” His fingers tapped together behind his back, gaze trailing down Arthur’s clothes as the man became aware of more painful muscle twitches.
Arthur’s mind caught on one word, and he parroted it back in a croak, “rotten?”
The man nodded, walked slowly to the opposite side of Arthur, forcing him to turn his head to keep him in sight. “Yes, but you seem to be almost back together again. I think you could sit up now, if you wanted.”
Arthur hesitated, fear eating at his gut at the casual way the strange man said those words, not yet ready to see what he meant for himself.
The man tilted his head, eyes crinkling in a semblance of amusement, though the burning within stayed. “Well, no matter. In the end, this is all about what you wanted.”
Arthur turned away from him, back to the sky, watched as a bird fluttered across, the limbs of a tree in the corner of his vision dipped and swayed.
His brow furrowed. No soft tickle of wind upon his cheeks, no creak and groan of a tree protesting the way the wind manhandled its branches. No birds twittering in the leaves, no whisper of the grass rasping against its neighbors.
Yet, he could hear his breathing, heard the strange man talking, heard his own answers, limited though they were.
He looked back at his visitor, tracked over the stillness of his expression, and asked, “What is this?”
The strange Man spread his arms wide, the familiar gesture tugging at Arthur’s body, arms twitching as he fought down a memory. “This, is life, friend.”
“I’m dead.” Bitten out, not examined beyond the brief flash of remembered agony, and belatedly Arthur wondered at the truth he was given. He was suppose to be dead, suppose to be gone, not suppose to be here.
“Yes, you were.”
Arthur could read between the lines easily enough. Laying there in the cold dirt, birthing pains still wracking his body, he could feel the slow, solid build of anger in his gut. Rasping, gasping, he was finally able to snap out a weaker version of his usual growling bite: “you should’ve left me dead.”
The strange Man bent down next to him, hands hiking the fabric covering his thighs as he did so, and said, “maybe, but what’s done is done. I won’t send you back, not now, not when there’s work to be done.”
“I ain’t workin for you.”
“Hm,” the strange Man leaned further over him, top hat blocking out the weak sun as he peered down at Arthur. “But you are. You’ve been working for me for a long time.”
Clearly, he was insane. Arthur stared up at him, jaw working angrily, weighing his options, wishing he had tried to sit up when first offered the chance. He felt vulnerable, laid out on the ground like a hunted animal, those dark eyes deadlier than a snare to keep him in place. “I don’t even know you.”
“Oh, but you do, Arthur.” Abruptly the spell was broken, the Strange Man leaning back once more and looking down the length of Arthur’s prone body, gaze assessing. “I rather think you should try sitting up now.”
It was painful, even though Arthur had steeled himself for pain. His joints caught, tightened on their respective bones, his backbones rasped against one another before sliding in place. His heart protested greatly, pulling blood from his head, leaving him gasping, coughing and sputtering, leaning heavily on his left arm despite the pain shooting through it and the way it shook under his weight.
“Good, good.” The Strange Man walked around to stand in front of him, and Arthur tracked him with lowered eyes. When he turned his body to face the outlaw again, Arthur started at the hat held in his hands.
He’d given that hat to Marston, had seen the younger man stumble and slide his way down a mountain trail with the old black leather jammed tight on his head.
“Where’d-”
“Thought you’d be needing this, the Man from Blackwater didn’t anymore.”
The Man from Blackwater, said calmly like Arthur should know who that was. But he didn’t, and his heart ached to see his good luck charm again. He didn’t dare ask after John, not from this man with coals for eyes.
Arthur craned his neck to glare upwards, asking once more: “What is this?”
The Strange Man ran his hands along the folded brim, smoothing it out and rubbing the dirt out of the cracked indents. “Some time ago, in a town far to the south and west, you killed a man. Do you remember?”
Arthur scoffed, bitterness creeping through as he rasped, “I killed a lotta men.”
“This one though,” the Strange Man held aloft a finger as he shook it at Arthur, “this one was special. You didn’t have much time, he was older, quicker, a better shot.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed, unsure where this was going.
“And yet, you killed him. Shot him straight through the heart. Folks said it was almost… uncanny, how quick you were.” His eyes watched like a hawk, saw the slow realization that crept over Arthur’s face.
The deadeye. “That weren’t- that weren’t special.”
The Strange Man leaned forward a little bit, canted his head slightly downward. “You were a deadshot, my friend. Only a handful of men in history can claim that title.” And they were all mine. It remained unspoken, but swirled between them like a dirt devil, licking at old wounds.
The Strange Man shifted the hat to one hand, held out his other, and Arthur wanted to recoil from it as though it was a snake. “Take my hand, friend. Ride again.”
“I don’t want this,” he rasped, desperate, holding his trembling right hand against his chest, spooked by the way it twitched like a living thing.
“I won’t send you back,” the Strange Man repeated, stern and cold. “I need my conquest.” He dropped the old, beat up hat on the ground, and Arthur watched the way it settled in the dirt. “This is the beginning, take my hand.”
“No.” He said it forcefully, as though to deny the way his palm ached and fingers burned the longer he held back.
The Strange Man eyed him, hand steady in the air. “You’ll live forever, be invincible, to a certain point. I’m offering you your second chance, Arthur. Take it.”
“I already got my second chance.” He just wanted to lay back down in the dirt, escape this man that looked at him with burning eyes, give in and die again. But the visage above him tightened, lips pressed together in a harsh line, and Arthur stiffened his weak spine in an effort to hide the way he trembled.
“You made this deal long ago, friend, and the terms were met. You belong to me. Now, take my hand.” His voice warped, became something deeper, the familiar accent burning a hole in Arthur’s chest as it sought to shatter his heart.
“Damn you,” he hissed, his left arm coming up to grip his right hand, pressing against the ache that had started to eat at the bones in his hand.
The Strange Man sighed, “if only it were that easy,” and snapped the fingers of his other hand.
Arthur cried out, a spasm jerking through his arms, right hand snapping out to slap into the iron grip, and his back bowed from the burst of lightening at the contact. He writhed, the current a live wire that burned its way up his arm and burrowed into the base of his skull.
Horse, road, gunshots. So tired, so tired. Keep Pushing, can’t stop. He relived that last awful hour, conscious of a shape hidden in his shadow, the Strange Man keeping pace behind him like muck on his boot. Always there, always there. Fire, heat, burning house. Check the stable. Desert, Prairie, Mountains, so cold, can’t stay here, we’ll freeze. He was young again, small and skinny, stuck on the back of a horse, and when he tilted his head upwards he could just make out the black, glossy hair of the person in front of him before light flashed in front of his eyes, and he screamed, body jerking at the clap that ricocheted through his entire being.
When he finally came down from the pain, he was kneeling in the dirt, warm tracks of tears running down his cheeks, and fire still burning through his arm. Wisps of smoke curled above the burnt leather of his jacket, and when he exhaled it came out as a garbled sob.
The Strange Man wiped his hands against each other, stepping slightly back. “Give yourself a minute, then we’ll see if you can stand.”
“You,” he licked his dry lips, tried again, though it came out a whisper. “You don’t own me.”
The Strange Man was silent, and Arthur knew how weak the lie was. He craned his head to the side, looked down at his bare right hand. The skin was covered in blackened, charred lines, as if lightening really had run up his arm. “What is this?”
“The birth of a horseman,” was the reply he got.
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I've been having way more thoughts about the Titan submersible than I expected to, and I just wanted to get them out tonight. Right now it's about 2 hours before their air probably runs out.
I personally have a fear of tight cramped places and suffocation in said places, so it's been grim for the imagination to be sure. But I keep on thinking of responsibility most of all, and of the recklessness of those on board. The CEO most of all, to be sure, but I feel that enough pull quotes have been published about the "adventurous" and "brave" natures of the four people on board who aren't 19 years old, and I want to talk about that.
One man, the father who brought his 19 year old son on board with him, is the advisor to Prince Trust International, Charles III's personal charity. His father was a founding member. He's been on the board for it as well as of course his own company. And you know, I think he owes it to his son and family to have made better decisions than this, and also owes it to the business and charity to make sane and rational decisions with his life. His will probably left a lot to his son who will not be able to claim said estate, so he's left his affairs in a mess for his wife and remaining child to sort out.
One man is a Titanic expert. He is often called Mr. Titanic. He's basically the expert on exploring the Titanic wreckage and has been down there many times, has made a business of brokering sales of Titanic artifacts in fact. He's a fount of knowledge on the Titanic and on deep sea diving, and that knowledge is going to disappear. He's a member of the Explorer's Club as well as one of the other passengers, and the non-diving members of said club are basically going all out to help with the search in any way they can. What a waste of a life when he could have gone on any other dive. And what a way to play with the emotions and well-being of all those who cared for him and wished his life well. What a way to be a steward of knowledge.
There's a billionaire on board who will no longer be able to run his company and do any of the work on any boards he is on. Again, he is another rich man because of the responsibilities he took on to run a company and to manage his wealth properly. Things happen if he dies. He has loved ones. All this talk of "he knew the risks" is a bit cheap when I don't think his loved ones and the board members of the company he runs knew what a deathwish he apparently had for semi-expensive thrills.
All of these people signed a waiver stating very clearly that death was a possible result of this voyage, but it's obvious none of them prepared their lives for that possibility. They did not take death seriously, and in the case of the father, did not take his own son's life seriously.
I think none of them had any regard for how the whole world would hear about it if their vessel had a problem, if there was a mishap during the voyage. I think they all assumed that if there was a death it would be an instant decompression, down to some sort of catastrophic accident that would end them quickly. They've been in there for four days with limited food, water, and room to move in, and the less they move, the better. None of them were actually prepared to go through that. They were just full of bravado. They didn't care for the world that would be whipped up into a frenzy about this, they didn't think about how many people would be concerned for them or impacted by their death. And these are people who had everything that someone could ever want. These are people who had everything to lose.
To be so cheap with life, with the concerns of others, with their own future potentials to actually change the world in some way instead of giving fellow billionaires joy rides as their main legacies... it's just a lot to think about. I think most of all I'm angry that they'll probably never have to answer to another human for any of their terrible decisions, because they'll have paid the ultimate price before another human sees any of their bodies.
To have everything, and then to act like it can all be thrown away... it's not brave or noble, it's not adventurous. It's just cowardly. It spites everything that humanity holds value for.
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i think that a characterization of abigail that they should have done more with is that she is just as chaotic as the boys.
like you see her showing up in her gray suit with the goal of whipping this band into shape and you think "oh, so she's another charles", but then she sends them to another country with no security or luggage or resources day 1 on the job.
charles thought they were finally getting someone reasonable on the team, but no. she's the source of most of his non-band-related headaches. and she can't even be called out because 1. her methods work, and 2. she is very good at playing the role of the "straight man" in any given dynamic
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Take A Gamble That Love Exists (Part 2 of 2)
Read last post for the first part of the story!
Morning arose as fast as it had taken for the liquor to drift you into a sleep. Once again you found yourself locked up against Arthur's broad chest, feeling the subtle rise and fall as he slept. You attempted to face him as you did the last time, only to suddenly realise half of his chest had been exposed, the buttons upon his union suit not resting within the slits upon the fabric to hold itself together.
You found yourself staring. You hadn't ever came face to face with a man as strong and burly as Arthur, covered in a fine layer of dark chest hair that you seemingly appreciated. He was certainly broad and toned with years worth of living as an Outlaw. It really did show.
Shaking the strange thoughts from your head, you shuffled awkwardly out of Arthur's grip and scampered out of the tent. Arthur didn't stir. The whisky certainly had him out cold. You guessed you'd be able to make use of the downtime and take a small trip around the valley's purple glade to hunt, seeing as Coyotes had made a meal of your Pronghorn that you had forgotten all about in your drunken state.
The valley was particularly beautiful this morning. The presence of spring brought a fine layer of sparkling rainbow dew drops that rested peacefully against undisturbed petals, a coat of spider webs creating a wonderful crystalline pattern as those fine strands too held onto the orbs of liquid. The little stream traversed downward, a light gurgling sound trailing from it as it made it's slow downward decent. The sun, whilst still holding it's sharp winter hue, finally had some semblance of heat. Still, it wasn't enough to go whipping your jacket off over, however much you appreciated the delicate warmth against the skin of your face.
You gave the leather strap a gentle tug at the reins of your steed, signalling him to hault. Just ahead of you were three Whitetail doe. With grace you slipped from the saddle of Starstreak, grasping the fine wood of your improved bow and a few arrows you had crafted a few days prior. A rather large boulder thankfully sheltered you, invisible by sight, though you still had to tread carefully. Deer had excellent hearing, and you didn't want to miss the opportunity.
Pulling back your arm with arrow in hand against the surface of your bow, you stifled a breath, closing an eye to get a better aim. The doe you aimed at had an immaculate pelt, you could use this to sell for a quick cash strap on your way back to the Heartlands.
You let your heart relax and your mind go blank, letting out a slow breath of air before your fingers released the arrow. The whistling sound of the arrow cutting through the air came to a standstill, a curdling squeal alerting you. The doe had gone down, dead in an instant whilst her two partners began to make haste for the shelter of woodland.
"A clean shot through the eye as always, Starstreak."
Stowing the catch, you made your way back to camp. In the distance you could just make out Arthur's figure hunched over the weak flames, a cup in hand.
"I forget you can't function without your morning coffee," Laughing softly you hitch Starstreak up, slipping off of the saddle and giving the stalion a gentle brush, tugging the doe from his rump.
Arthur took a careful sip, eyeing up the catch with an impressed grin, "Right through the eye?"
"You betcha," responding with a wink you placed the deer onto the ground, unsheathing your hunting knife, "how much longer did you wanna stay?"
"Forever." Arthur replied with a huff of amusement, drawing in another mouthful of the bitter black liquid.
"Dutch would have your head," You drew the knife into the stomach of the doe.
Arthur pursed his lips and sighed, nodding heavily, "Yeah no doubt about that. He'd have Charles track me down, best person for it." Arthur set himself back into a more comfortable position, "Charles was the one found Clemens Point. Originally we was gon' settle for Dewberry Creek,"
"That dried up riverbed on the outskirts of Lemoyne?" The knife split a perfect line down the stomach and towards the rear legs.
Arthur hummed a yes, shrugging, "Yeah tha's the one. Don't know what Micah and Dutch were thinkin'. Pinkertons would be able to pick us off like rabbits."
"It floods, too. Lemoyne is usually dry, rain hardly falls here but when it does, it pours. I was stuck out there once, Emil had to lasso me before I was swept away." You began on skinning the legs.
Arthur swirled the warm liquid in his mug, focusing on the way it swirled, "Good thing we didn't set up there, then." He continued, taking another hearty sip, "Me and Charles were told to scout the place. Turns out we weren't the first." You could see the reminence in Arthur's eyes as he explained away, "Found a German mother and her two children hiding underneath a wagon. The little girl told us about her father bein' taken, so Charles tracked em, all the way to Clemens Point."
You picked off the cloven hooves one by one, "Jesus, it's quite a distance from the creek too. Charles must be an expert tracker,"
"He sure is. Brilliant hunter, too. Gets it from his family I'd assume." Arthur took one last mouthful of coffee, "But- yeah. Should probably make this our last day, Dutch will most definitely be wonderin' where I am by now." Having finally finished his brew, Arthur placed down the cup and stood to come to your side, admiring the quick work you made of the doe; "That's some fine work!"
"Should make some good money on a pelt like this," flapping out the skin you carefully examined the pelt before setting it down to dry. You then spun your knife in your hand, baring it down into a section of flesh to trim the edible meat from the doe's bones. Arthur stood back, messing around inside his satchel whilst you made use of the carcass. It wasn't long before Arthur came to your side again, a map in hand, "Seein' as this is our last day, we should do somethin' fun. Ever gone fishing before?"
Tugging at the last of the edible flesh you stood to glance at the map and then to Arthur, nodding with a smile, "Yeah a few times. Wouldn't say I'm an expert at it though."
"Neither am I," Arthur unfolded the paper to reveal a rather poorly drawn map of all of the states within the East. Within many of the bodies of water were large fish, numbered, "Some guy gave me a map for some 'legendary' fish. Said he'd offer money if I sent him the ones I manage to find. Turns out there's one just round here." His finger tapped against what looked like a brook trout.
"Ah yeah, looks good! Let me just store these bits and we can go take a look."
After you had salted and stored the chunks of game into a makeshift box, buried in a shallow dip, you and Arthur mounted your horses and set off towards the bow of the stream. It wasn't far, you could still see the campsite in the distance. Your hand explored the deep pocket of your saddlebag, eventually grasping onto a smooth, extendable pole. Arthur had already set himself up, whisking out his line with a whistle. You were quick to join soon after, enjoying the pleasant weather and shallow, cool breeze. Fishing demanded patience and quiet. You both remained that way for a while, focusing on the sounds of the wilderness around you. That's when you caught Arthur from the corner of your eye. He wasn't focused on the line, but at you. You didn't bother to say anything or alert Arthur that you had caught him staring, but curiosity ebbed at you like a leach. His ocean eyes were examining your stance, a corner smile forming on his lips.
Suddenly the stream erupted in a flurry of splashing, disturbed water. Arthur was briskfully taken unaware, yelping as his hands almost slipped from the pole. His heels dug into the silt of the stream bank, pulling aimlessly at the line, reeling inward as fast as he possibly could. Finally, the fish broke water and Arthur pulled it into his grip, a brow raised.
"That the right fish?" Your line still bobbed in the water, undisturbed. Arthur let out a groan and shook his head, "Nah, this looks like a common stream fish. A big one though! Might be worth keepin'." As Arthur debated on whether or not he should keep his catch, you felt a nibble at your line. The lure you could originally see vanished within an instant, and an eruption of water flailed into the air. Your hands tightened around your pole, hoisting the line upwards as your feet struggled to stay central to your body. Reel in, tug upward. Reel in, tug upward. You repeated that motion, your face focused and yet full of amusement and exhilaration. A bright smile grew on your lips as you took a step backwards to hoist the fish in further.
Arthur gazed at you, his eyes wide. He studied you, focusing on the way your expression beamed, your bright smile, the way you handled yourself. Your long plaited hair splayed out behind you as you rocked your body back and forth. For a second it seemed as if you'd manage it, but just at that thought, your foot began to slip. Arthur was at your back within an instant, his left hand flying out to grip your own around the pole whilst his other caught your waist.
"Shit!" You yelped as you felt the silt shift, slipping backwards. Arthur's feet gave in from underneath, splaying outwards as he collapsed onto his back. You had also fallen, Arthur now underneath you. A sprinkle of stream water cascaded above you, twinkling in the light before scattering onto your face. Your eyes snapped shut to avoid the liquid, but you were stunned as a much heavier and solid object smacked you directly in the nose.
You let out a shocked squeal which rapidly erupted into pained laughter, your hand coming to your nose.
"Jesus Y/n are you okay?!" Arthur had you in his arms, shuffling into a sitting position with you in his lap to take a proper look at your face.
"The hell was that?!" As you sat, you felt a sudden rush of warm liquid trickling down your philtrum. Arthur was quick to place a cloth from his satchel under your nose, gently dabbing as he sighed, "Well, as we fell we pulled that fish out." His eyes turned to face the flailing creature flopping around on the grass. You too, took a quick look, "Please tell me that's the fish..."
"Looks like the one." Arthur let out a snort of laughter as you groaned an amused, "A 'legendary' Brook trout for a bleedin' nose. Wonderful."
Removing the cloth, Arthur gave you a check over, gently pressing the bridge of your nose with squinted eyes. You winced, but it wasn't much too painful. He wiggled his fingers against it softly, and still it wasn't enough to bring tears to your eyes. Arthur relaxed, "It ain't broken, luckily."
After that rather eventful fishing trip you both went back to camp. The day was escaping you and evening was bordering the horizon. You had stored the fish to the best of your ability, hopeful that it would keep until Arthur made it to the closest station to mail the thing off. Now you both sat huddled at the campfire, enjoying the meat from the doe earlier that day.
Arthur bit down onto the chunk hungrily, glancing over at you and then to your lower face, "How's your nose?"
"A little sore, nothing I can't handle though. I've had worse," your finger flicked up to point at the scar that ran ridged and vertical down your right eye. You'd been lucky not to have been blinded that day when Colm O'driscoll 'branded' you and your twin brother.
Arthur rose his head upwards slightly in agreement, taking another bite as he gazed at you curiously, "What you plannin' on doing when we get back, then? O'driscolls aren't much of a problem anymore. Now it's just those Lemoyne Raiders."
Your days in the Heartlands had been met with O'driscoll hostility. They had it out for you as much as they had taken issue with the Van Der Linde gang, something you and Arthur had a common familiarity over. It had been the reason you both began to frequent with eachother, drawing out O'driscolls and foiling their plans left right and centre to protect the gang and your small posse. Once Arthur and the gang fled from the state of New Hanover after the Valentine Massacre, you knew you had no choice but to move further East also for aiding in their escape from the butchered town. You recalled the look on Arthur's face as you demanded he run and not look back, to get himself and his gang out of the Heartlands whilst you remained, creating a human shield, guns blazing alongside your fellow posse members. You had survived and totalled no fatalities, but now you had new contenders to deal with; Lemoyne Raiders.
Confederate veterans and disenfranchised young men with extremely outdated views and racist by nature, the Raiders were an awfully irritating and defiant splinter in your back. Your posse and the Van Der Linde gang were comprised of men and woman from all different walks of life, certainly not the lifestyles that the Raiders appreciated.
"They're certainly annoying little arseholes, that's for sure." As you thought back to the dry state of Lemoyne, you shuddered. It wasn't your most favourite place to be. It was hot and barren with only a select amount of game to hunt. The drought had pushed most of it's animal inhabitants East and West, making it all the more difficult to feed yourselves. The creek served as a lifeline for fish, but even that wasn't an infinite reserve. Lemoyne Raiders made life among the orange tracks near-unbearable, "Guess when I get back I'll be teaching the sons of a bitches a few lessons."
"I'll come help. They're causing some problems for Dutch, too." Arthur finished up his meal, gazing out into the open glade with a relaxed sigh, watching as the sun began to dip below the horizon once more.
"It would be pretty damn boring without you there with me, so sure. I'd love the company." You shot the man an innocent smile. Arthur had turned to you once more and froze. That smile... why did it have him frozen like a petrified animal?
You hadn't noticed however, finishing your meal, cleaning your blade and eventually standing to stretch. Arthur continued to watch, his eyes trasing the various features of your body. As you began to saunter over towards the tent, gazing back to beckon him with you, he gulped; "I'll be with ya in a second, just gonna tend to Pandora real quick."
You bowed your head and settled into the bedroll, "If I'm asleep don't worry about shoving me over for some room."
Arthur however hadn't tended to Pandora. He sat watching the moon rise and the stars shine brightly. His mind had been caught in a web. A web of, well... you. It was driving him silently mad. Something had changed over the course of your trip together, a change that set down the foundations of a sudden realisation. The way Arthur had been with you was vastly different to anyone else, even previous suiters like Mary Linton. He even recalled how open and vulnerable he could be with you, how he hardly flinched at the physical affection you gave him, the way you openly embraced him when you were excited or stunned... he began to crave that attention from you. He worried for you every time you had left to return to your camp, he had panicked whenever you were on the precipice of death, charged in to save you whenever you had needed it. He enjoyed your company, the way your sweet smile gave him a warmth within his stomach nobody else could give. He admired your confidence, but also your ability to let loose and be soft and innocent around him. You let your front down every time you two had been alone, a complete show of trust.
Arthur let out a confused sigh, stretching outward to relieve his muscles before making his way into the tent, gazing down at you with a forming smile.
Arthur had slept against you once again that night, only this time he had shifted you over and slept so that your face was buried against his chest, his chin resting against the top of your head. He had even woke before you, prepping two cups of hot coffee.
"G'morning," His rustic low voice bellowed the sleep from your eyes as the struggled out into the sunlight, rubbing the tiredness from your muscles as you set yourself down to sit next to Arthur. Your hand gingerly took the mug from his hand, "Thank you," and you began to sip tiny mouthfuls, "I am not looking forward to the trip back..."
Arthur gave you a sympathetic gaze and smile, resting his hang against your shoulder, "I know, me too. We'll head down to Strawberry, get that pelt sold and have a quick bath." Arthur drew his hand back and pulled himself upwards, "Then we'll take the route past Flatneck Station near Flat Iron Lake so we ain't near Valentine. I'd imagine they're still pretty pissed off..." As he spoke he made his way over to the horses, giving them a little check over to ensure they were ready for the journey ahead. You smiled, appreciating the kindness Arthur gave to his steed and your own, "Concidering we wiped out probably half the population of the town, yeah, they're most likely still pissed off," a small laugh escaped your throat as you began to kick dust and dirt over the dying fire, "If we start leaving now we'll probably be back I'm Lemoyne by late afternoon."
With the camp now fully disembodied and lacking any trace, you saddled up. The remaining meats were stored into your saddlebags alongside some supplies whilst Arthur stowed the in tact fish to Pandora's rump. Soon, you were both on the trail once more, leaving Big Valley behind. You gazed back as the slope began to drop, waving at the vast glade of purple flowers as they vanished over the horizon. It had taken about an hour to make it to Strawberry. It was an easy and calm trip with no disturbances from human or snow. The perfect pelt had earned you a nice sum of twenty five bucks, and you quickly made haste to the hotel. Arthur had insisted you bathe first, explaining how he was going to send the fish off and take a look around. You knew Arthur by now, though. He knew Strawberry, he didn't need to look around. He was up to something, and you couldn't stop him. So, you paid for your bath, slipping an extra twenty five cents so that Arthur's bath was paid for after your own. It had even reinvigorating to wash all of that stream silt from your body, and the hot water soothed the niggling pain your nose still complained about.
After a short while you came out of your bath, content and happy. Arthur had been sat in the hallway, greeting you with a tip of his hat and nudge before hurrying off into the bathroom. He hadn't even waited for the staff to fill his own bath up before he went in and locked the door behind him. How odd... what was he so nervous about? That's when your eyes met the surface of the table. A bedroll and tent kit lie upon the wood, a small note written and placed onto the fabric. It read;
'Sorry I couldn't find your old stuff. Whoever took it was long gone some days prior. The Strawberry stables had some pretty nice bedrolls and tents, so I got you a new set. Can't go gallivantin' around the states without shelter, can you? A x.'
A bashful smile crossed your face as you read the letter, a hand trailing across the expensive feeling fabric of the new equipment. Then, you focused heavily on the ending of that note; a small 'x' had been left, almost like a kiss. Your heart lurched at the thought, but you pushed it away, assuming that was just how Arthur Morgan adresses his name in letters.
Arthur eventually finished with his bath and came to meet you outside. You were busy fitting the equipment to Starstreak's saddle when you realised his presence: "Y'didn't have to do this, y'know?"
"I wanted to. Now come on, got a lot of ground to cover and only as much sunlight."
Arthur smiled in return and then lept onto Pandora, spurring her forward.
You had eventually made it back to Lemoyne, and at the right time too: late afternoon. You both paused at the bend in the road upon the hill of Scarlet Meadows.
"Enjoy yourself?" Your hand drew across the dusty pelt of Starstreak, pulling out your horse brush. Arthur smiled, bowing his head as he did the same, offering a carrot to Pandora, "It was lovely darlin', thank you."
Your jaws parted to respond but you were suddenly cut off by thundering hooves. Arthur's face shot up suddenly, a hand twitching over his holster.
"Art'ur Morgan! Where'd you get off ta?" It was Sean, followed by Tilly, Mary-Beth and Javier. When Sean got a proper look at you, he parted his jaws in an 'Ahh' of understanding.
You knew Sean well, in fact you'd known him far before Arthur. Back when you spent your days around West Elizabeth you often spent time with the Irishman, doing odd jobs here and there and getting drunk when spirits were high. You often found yourself in awe of his stories of the gang, and now you may as well have been fully involved. You gave Sean a little wave, "Gettin' into trouble there, Macguire?"
"Aye, I don't get inta trouble Y/n, I am ta trouble! Anyhow, what's with you and Morgan ere? Go anywhere nice?" The ginger man gave Arthur a devious smirk with a risen brow, a gaggle of laughter escaping his throat. Javier rolled his eyes and stood a little ways ahead, "Good to see you Arthur."
"Where you lot off to?" Arthur decided to ignore Sean and tip his hat to Javier.
"There's a stagecoach coming up through the border of New Hanover, apparently there's a really important woman on board who should have riches beyond belief - at least, that's how Trelawny puts it." Javier gave Arthur an awkward shrug, to which Arthur responded with a monotone, "Y'sure robbin' a stagecoach in New Hanover is a good idea considering what happened in Valentine?"
Sean was quick to pipe up as Javier attempted to reply, "It's on the border of Lemoyne! Far out from that shithole! An' besides, we got the girls as a distraction."
"Okay, what sort of distraction?" Arthur's voice was curiously concerned. Sean usually made the strangest of plans to say the least, you of all people knew that to be true.
"I'm gonna 'faint'," Mary-Beth rose her hands to emphasise quotation marks by bending her fingers as she spoke, "and Tilly is gonna call for help beside me. Then, Sean's gonna pick the lock whilst Javier guards us from cover."
The plan didn't sound half bad. Mary-Beth and Tilly were only around Valentine a handful of times, so their presence wouldn't be best known. Sean was pretty skilled at picking locks, too.
For a second Arthur seemingly contemplated, brushing a hand against his chin. You caught the girls expressions darken, with Tilly snapping back a, "Come on Arthur we are perfectly capable of it!"
"And we can defend ourselves!" Mary-Beth spoke next, pouting as she crossed her arms, a brow raised with irritation.
"I ain't saying you aren't, it's just the risk with it bein' in New Hanover. If you're confident though, go for it. If... you let me come along." Arthur's offer of tagging along seemed to bother Sean who groaned, rolling his eyes, "We don't need babyin', Art'ur... but fine. Come along, if you must. You're staying with Javier though."
Javier didn't seem bothered, he simply smiled and nodded in agreement before taking a quick look at you, "This is the Van Der Linde gang's business though, can't have you tagging along I'm afraid. Dutch's orders for anyone really."
You understood, giving Javier a kind hand gesture to pause him as he spoke, "No, no. I get it. I need to get back to my lot anyway. I won't say a word," You gave the man a wink, then settled your sights on Arthur who seemed less than pleased for your imitate departure, "I'll see you soon?"
"Sure, sounds good. Few days?" Arthur had intended on hiding that smile that laced his face, but to no avail. It was a bright smile, one that Javier and Mary-Beth had caught whilst Tilly and Sean spurred their horses onwards.
You signaled a wave of goodbye as you turned your own stalion towards the direction of your own camp, "Midday, Friday. Down at Mattock Pond." You then turned to head off, briefly catching Mary-Beth's seemingly soured expression after you gave Arthur a soft smile and a gentle 'goodbye.' Strange, you'd never met Mary-Beth before. She seemed and looked like a sweet girl, but the daggers she had been giving you as you strode away burnt into your back.
Arthur watched you go, a frown forming upon his face. It was as if all of the warmth and glow of the world went with you, leaving Arthur breathless and choking on sorrow. The look upon his withered expression said it all; it was painfully obvious, and Javier gave Arthur a delicate nudge whilst Mary-Beth's expression darkened, a crooked frown forming as she began to gallop forward.
"So, whose the girl amigo?" Javier came to Arthur's side as he began to advance, some distance behind Sean and the girls. Arthur shook his head, taking in a sudden breath as if he had been stunned awake. He then cleared his throat, attempting to regain his burly composure, "Jus' some woman. Saved her from the O'driscolls when she and Sean were captured last Summer. She's been helpin' with messin' Colm's scores."
Javier's eyes were stuck onto Arthur, watching as the brute of a man seemingly went through a multitude of different emotions before he straightened himself out and rode onward, fixing his hat and bandana around his neck.
Javier pushed his mount onwards to match Pandora's pace, "You know what I think?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes, squinting, "I think you won't understand."
"Creo que estás enamorado," Javier was quick to respond before spurring his mount onwards, leaving Arthur in the dust. The Outlaw picked up his voice in a shout, "What's that s'posed to mean?!" To which Javier yelled back, "You won't understand!"
There was a hue of amusement and excitement in Javier's voice as he thundered onward. Arthur kept his usual pace, sighing as he shook his head before turning his attention towards his back. Far into the distance he could see the tiny silhouette of yourself, dust trailing behind your stalion's hoofsteps. A small smile formed upon Arthur's lips, but quickly dropped into a frown as you disappeared below the horizon. Arthur felt an emptiness he'd never experienced before, a numb feeling as if life itself was draining from him with every step you took away from the Cowboy.
Realisation suddenly hit him far heavier and faster than that of a steam train. Arthur had finally realised it; he was falling in love with you, and it terrified him, and yet, it felt so right.
_ _ _
Thank you all for reading! I may make this a few part series with the development and eventual romantic relationship between Arthur and the reader. It really just depends on my enthusiasm for writing, it is just a hobby afterall and I write during spur of the moments, so it is few and far between. Thank you though for taking the time to read, I don't concider myself a great writer but it is super fun so that's all that matters!
#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan handsome#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2#red dead redemption
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