#◈he insists; interactions dutch◈

[strictlycanon]

[ ♞ ]

"Are you sure you have my back?"

Dutch questioned the other. As of late, he had no idea who he can trust. He thought that Arthur, his most loyal, had his back, but he clearly didn't. And now this person is starting to question him. It was becoming too much for Dutch to handle. He needed a way to weed out the betrayers, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

"Or are you like the rest of them? Doubting me?"

#★ come one come all; open rp ★ #★ v; paging doctor spazz; undecided ★ #◈he insists; interactions dutch◈ #Stop being so dramatic lmao

[sunny-fox]

Random thought from yesterday:

Pet! SAHSR (Self Aware Honkai Star Rail) AU

Notes: reverse isekai, characters turn into animals, Astral Express Crew, Caelus and Stelle are twins, kind of Cult! AU?

------------------------------

Dutch Rabbit! Pom Pom who pretends that they don't like being petted. They don't look at you when you pet them, opting to stare at random things around them, but they move towards you slowly and secretly, a few steps at a time. They nuzzle into your palm but pretend that they didn't afterwards by ignoring you multiple times when you call their name. Pom Pom does try to nip at your fingers if you ruffle their fur too often, thinking that you're trying to mess up their soft fur. If Pom Pom is feeling particularly friendly on some days, they might even let you hold them for hours (they usually lie still in your arms for about 5 minutes before squirming to get away). March will start complaining and pawing at your arm though, as it's her spot on other days.

Cocker Spaniel! March 7th who loves following you around your house. She's quite energetic, often bringing her toys to you, pleading for you to play with her through her gaze. You do play with her, but it's impossible to do so every 10 minutes, what with your work and everyday duties. March gets bored when you can't play with her, lying on the floor and looking here and there for something else to play with (that isn't her toys). Don't be surprised when you return to the living room and find your bags turned inside out, belongings undamaged but strewn across the floor, Himeko picking them up and piling them together for you. March wants you to think of it as revenge for not playing with her (>:3).

Siberian cat! Dan Heng who prefers resting on cat trees than interacting with the others. He'll swipe a paw at anyone (except you) who dares invade his personal space, though he acts more lenient towards the other pets. He watches you from his special spot on the cat tree every time you walk around the house doing chores or just going from one room to another. Sometimes Dan Heng does follow you just like March, but if you tell him that he's practically tripping you every step you take, he quietly leaves and goes back to his spot. If March is following you as well, Dan Heng will paw at her back, telling her to follow him to the living room. He'll ask for help from Welt if she doesn't listen.

Maine Coon! Himeko who's just like the mom of the group. She's mostly calm, but will gently nip at the younger pets' ears or swipe a paw at them - claws retracted, of course - if they misbehave. Himeko likes it when you brush her fur. Eight to nine out of ten times she falls asleep when you do so. She has to have her fur brushed weekly if not daily - she'll bring her comb to you and purr to let you know. Himeko will curl up next to you if you let her sleep on your bed, guarding you throughout the night, nuzzling against you when you wake up screaming (or not) from nightmares.

Bernese Mountain Dog! Welt who's really calm and quiet. He rests his snout on the edge of your bed each morning so the first thing you see when you wake is a pair of honey-coloured eyes staring right back at you. Please pat his snout as a good morning; he'll feel so happy if you do! As mentioned above, Dan Heng asks Welt for help when March insists on running in circles around you: he picks her up by the scruff and takes her away. Welt likes to accompany you on walks at night, treasuring the precious time he gets to spend with you. There's this one time when you took a photo with Welt and put a pair of toy glasses on his snout. He seemed to love those glasses a lot after that.

Raccoons! Caelus and Stelle who are disappointed that they can't go dumpster diving in your house. You can't have garbage strewn around your house, after all. You caught them red-handed during their first few attempts after arriving at your house. When you leave your house, they'll try to dig through the trash cans again. March and Dan Heng try to stop them, with March tugging on Stelle's tail with her mouth and Dan Heng standing on his hind legs, trying to pry Caelus off the can. Eventually you prepared a huge box for the troublemaker twins and hid new toys or snacks in it, underneath old clothes and colourful, hollow plastic balls. That seemed to satisfy their interest in dumpster diving, albeit briefly. Caelus and Stelle still try to climb into trash cans whenever they go on walks with you.

Even though Pom Pom was a rabbit, Dan Heng and Himeko were cats, Welt and March were dogs, and Caelus as well as Stelle were raccoons, they often stuck together like a family. Pom Pom likes to make Welt's back their personal couch. Welt won't move at all unless you pick up Pom Pom or Pom Pom climbs off his back. Himeko plays with March to distract her from turning your house upside down when you're busy. Caelus, Stelle and Dan Heng lie in a cuddle pile during naps. Sometimes March, Himeko, Welt and Pom Pom join them too. You're quite puzzled as to why they love each other dearly, but hey, it's nice to see them acting like family, no?

------------------------------

Had a lot of fun writing this :D

#sahsrau #self aware honkai star rail #honkai star rail #hsr pompom #march 7th #dan heng #hsr himeko #hsr welt #hsr caelus #hsr stelle #astral express

[tempting-andromeda]

Can we get some Javier headcanons 🙊 maybe some where the reader is shy or oblivious???

Ty! The Javier ones are my favorite, he’s so 😢

GAH I LOVE HIM SO NUCH

Shy Oblivious reader with Javier Escuella

He won’t make the first move

Have you guys seen the way he interacts with Tilly?

His way of flirting is close proximity and trying to look cool

(Loser❤️)

Anyway!

He definitely is putting on his lil charm on you

Doing knife tricks and then glance at you to see if you’re impressed

He doesn’t give up easily though

Not unless you state you don’t like him

He’s a hopeless fool

Always offers to take out around town if you need it

Insists that he’s the best option to take you

However if you take him up on his offer his hands are suddenly clammy and he’s too loud when he starts conversations

He’s the biggest gentleman even if he looks like a kid nervous for his first day of school

Pays for your things and gives you little gifts

From just small treats from the general store to a pretty shawl

Poorly embroidered your name into the shawl

Had to ask one of the girls to help him

Thinks his feelings are obvious and you’re just politely protecting his feelings but not saying anything

Sucks up his pride and asks someone you’re the closest with if you just don’t like him

If he finds out you like him back he’s just not being bold enough for you to notice he steps up his game

But he’s so flustered about it

If he seems Dutch and Molly dancing he asks you to dance with him

He’s taking notes

He’s not awkward in a “he’s never dated before” type of way

He fled Mexico because he killed his lovers husband

But his awkwardness is his charm

It’s his goofy lil smile

He can’t just blatantly tell you he likes you

Hints it

He’d rather risk kissing you straight up and humiliate himself before going up to you and giving an awkward sappy confession

#rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #javier escuella headcanons #javier rdr2 #rdr2 javier #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella

[sushisocks]

One thing abt Sean that I really like is that he never really teases Arthur for being stupid. The only time I've seen him do it, has been when Arthur starts it by calling Sean stupid and Sean being like "well youd know, wouldnt you" -- not even denying it but grabbing at the chance to enjoy some banter.

I think it probably has a lot to do with the fact that Sean doesn't think Arthur is dumb. It'd be a bit "throwing stones in glass houses" to call a man who reads and writes unintelligent, when you can't read and write, and that ability is seen as a hallmark for intelligence by most of your contemporaries.

It's just a nice difference from a fair amount of other people in the gang. Arthur's teased for his intelligence a lot, whether warranted or not, but Sean, who is seen picking on the rest of the gang a fair amount, doesn't really bring up this as a thing with Arthur.

Instead, what Sean harps on, is Arthur having English heritage -- which arguably isn't even true. More importantly, it's something Arthur doesn't really care about, beyond being annoyed by Sean's insistence on bringing it up as often as he does. Which means it's a safe topic! Sean can tease Arthur about this and be sure it won't be taken harsher than what it is; light hearted.

I feel like that's the case with a majority of Sean's interactions in camp. He's trying to bring some light-heartedness and fun in, and he does that in the way he knows best, while toeing the line as best he can. I have thoughts in this regard because you do see him stepping back when he realizes he might have overstepped (like with Javier), as well as show some genuine disapproval in other interactions (usually when related back to his own heritage and home; failing to connect with Molly due to class differences, for example, or getting mad about how Colm's name is pronounced).

I think about how many camp interactions he has with Kieran a lot; they have a fair amount, and you can actually learn a fair amount about Kieran from Sean asking questions. The way their relationship evolves from Sean headbutting Kieran while drunk, to genuinely listening to him talk about his life and about Colm, is very interesting to me. Sean very clearly wants a connection; in the same way he very clearly wants a connection with Molly.

But it's not just about how he clearly wants to connect with anything and anyone who reminds him of home. It's also about how he interacts with everyone else in the gang. It's about a majority of his teasing usually not actually being that offensive. It's about Dutch yelling at Sean when he's not being the silly goofy camp clown.

I think I lost the plot at some point in here but I wanna end this with saying that I think Sean clearly is cast as this role in the gang that he has to navigate as best he can, and he's barely allowed to be seen beyond that role if you don't pay him attention. But he clearly cares, a lot, and it shows in how he chooses to fill that role. And I think it's a little sad that he's often reduced to the silly clown or stupid bully that he's expected to be, because I think there's more to his character worthy of exploration and discussion.

#sean macguire #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #teki talks #long post #i have so many thoughts about this man this isnt even the half of it #but it does get a little into why I've written him as I have in AV #if youve been watching my activity here the past few months me posting sean macguire meta should NOT come as a surprise #there's more where this one came from #rdr thoughts

[brothermoth]

Arthur and Micah as Character Foils

"In any narrative, a foil is a character who contrasts with another character, typically, a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist. A foil to the protagonist may also be the antagonist of the plot" (Foils, Wikipedia).

We hate one, we love the other. We love to hate the former. Micah Bell was written blatantly as an opposing force to our beloved big boy. What makes him an interesting narrative device is not only the differences between Micah and Arthur, but rather their similarities. A foil must be opposing in personality as well as role in the story, but not necessarily in their background as a character. In fact, this is a tactic to make a more heavy handed moral message within the plot.

What we know of Micah's life prior to joining the gang comes in sparse snippets, blink and you miss it details that only fanfiction writers have committed to memory (guilty). We know he grew up alongside his brother Amos, who assumedly is younger considering traditionally only the oldest son is named after a father and grandfather. We know they have likely always had a strained relationship because of their differences, and that at some point there was a falling out between them. Considering his father brought a 17 year old Micah along on a bonding murder trip, it's fair to say his childhood environment was less than ideal.

Arthur was raised in a similar environment, with an abusive outlaw father and a lack of proper guidance in life. He, too, has a younger brother with whom he shares a strained relationship. The difference is that Arthur has always rejected the violence that is present around him. Micah does not see his father as abusive, instead sounding almost reverent in his recollection of childhood. Their nurture was similar but their nature is vastly different. Arthur has love in his life. He has friendships, familial relationships and he chooses to participate in these. Micah intentionally severs any possible friendships, keeping others at arm's length and insisting he is content with that. They are both clearly deeply insecure men, though the key aspects of their personalities show in how they manage their insecurities.

Micah makes his problems everyone else's problems, where Arthur is shown to be helpful and kind, not wanting to burden others with his own shortcomings. He enjoys his friendships, is fair and friendly toward the women in camp, abhors the common sentiments of racism at the time. Some of this can be attributed to Dutch's influence, but I think it's more to do with Arthur's inherent personality.

It is Micah's antagonistic interactions that help players to better understand Arthur. That contrast is necessary. It outlines a core theme of the game: we are only as good as we try to be.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #arthur morgan #micah bell #Writing rambles #Character foil

[dino-fart]

Hi!!! I have a request for a Joel Miller fic where him and Ellie r settled and he meets reader who is a school teacher in Jackson

Oooo!!

You were a nurse and a botanist. You worked at a research facility partnered with a hospital. You were helping research various herbs and remedies that could help either cure the Cordyceps infection or at the very least slow it down. Alas, you found none and that led to the chaos and the near extinction of mankind. That is until you got to the Jackson settlement and you were amazed at how the place looked like it used to before the outbreak. 

You had met with Tommy and his wife, Maria, sweet and caring people. You told them of your previous occupation and expected to be stationed at the clinic. But your expertise in botany made them choose a different path for you. You now found yourself in a school, teaching botany and nursing. 

You had a set schedule, two days a week you taught students ranging from 6 years old to 10 years old. Two other days you taught students ranging from 13 to 21 years old. One day you taught the adults. Needless to say, you were kept busy, but you liked it. You felt like you were giving hope to this settlement. The more knowledge you gave them, the better chances they would have surviving their missions. You hoped at least. 

Today, you were wearing a yellow sundress, black ballet flats, and a white sunhat. Your hair was done in a front dutch braid. You stood in the greenhouse waiting for your students to arrive. You wanted to teach the young students (13 years - 21 years) about what herbs to eat and how to check if some fruit are ripe enough to eat. You had heard a new student was joining you, you didn’t know much about her, just that Tommy insisted she joined the class. 

You smiled widely seeing the students walk in chipper and happy. It was nice to see your students this way, it reminded you of life before. You were about to begin the class when a brunette haired teenager walked in shyly. “Ah, you must be...Ellie, right?” You smiled warmly and approached her. The girl nodded and shuffled her feet a little. She looked at the other students then back at you. You could tell she was nervous. “There’s nothing to worry about Ellie, we’re all here to learn. If you have any questions, please ask.” You put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. 

The girl gave you a small smile and nodded. You began class and enjoyed seeing Ellie becoming more comfortable around the others so quickly. At the end of class, the parents came in to get the kids and some kids left, except Ellie. You were cleaning up the herbs and looked over at her. “Is Tommy coming to get you?” You asked softly. 

“Nah, Joel should be here soon. He’s talking to some people...Is it okay if I stay here until he comes?” She asked. 

You nodded and sat down by a few potted plants. You began trimming the leaves and examining the soil. Ellie walked over to you and sat next to you, she watched what you were doing. “It’s good to trim the leaves that are overgrown to keep the plant healthy and growing. You have to check the soil too.” You said finishing your work. 

“Is it true you’re a nurse as well?” 

“Yes I am, I teaching nursing to all my students, how to clean a wound, how to bandage one, and how to stitch.” 

“That’s cool.” Ellie smiled. 

You smiled back at the girl then looked up when you saw a tall and gruff man in a flannel shirt walk in. 

“There you are Ellie.” He said. 

Ellie turned and smiled, “Hey Joel! Guess what! I learned what not to eat in the wilderness, short answer don’t eat anything that looks delicious!” 

Joel cracked a small smile, “I could’ve told you that.” 

“Yeah but you would just say ‘Because I told you so Ellie’! At least she explains why.” Ellie mimicked Joel right down to the posture. You chuckled softly at the interaction. 

“Is that what I sound like?” Joel raised a brow. 

“All the time.” Ellie smirked. 

“Come on now, you’re embarrassing me in front of the pretty lady.” Joel shook his head. 

“You don’t need my help with that.” Ellie smirked. 

“Get outside, you little shit.” Joel scolded. 

Ellie stuck her tongue out to him and turned to you, “See you tomorrow, teach?” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” You chuckled. Ellie left the greenhouse but Joel stayed put. You smiled at him kindly, “Your daughter is sweet, spunky but sweet.” You stood up, dusting off your dress. 

“She’s...Something.” Joel smirked.

You now approached Joel and extended your hand. You introduced yourself and Joel did the same and shook your hand. “Ah, you’re Tommy’s brother...How did I not see it?” You looked him over. 

“Excuse me?” Joel indulged. 

“Tommy described you as scary, gruff, brooding, and silent.” You nodded. Joel just let out a huff. “He did forget to mention that you were handsome.” You grinned. 

Joel met your gaze to see any hint of dishonesty. When he found none, he could feel his cheeks get warm. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself, darlin’.” Joel smiled at you. 

“I know, you called me pretty a few minutes ago.” You winked.

Joel’s smile grew and the tint of pink began to show on his cheeks. 

“Joel! Are you coming?!” Ellie shouted from outside. 

“I better go before she starts throwing rocks.” Joel sighed softly. 

You nodded and went on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, “Have a good night, Joel.” 

Joel blushed more and looked at you softly, “You have a good night as well, teach. If you need anything, I’m your man.” 

You smiled sweetly, “Yes sir.” You watched him walk out of the greenhouse, almost bumping into the door when he was saying bye to you. You giggled softly and your fingers began to play with the locks of your hair. 

You couldn’t wait to see him again.

Tagging: @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @deliciousfestsalad, @alex-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #requests

[brujahinaskirt]

I think a lot of players terribly misread Arthur's sassy line to Sadie, "[You] wanna run with the men?"

My point in writing this essay very much isn't to argue that Arthur is the most feminist king who ever IS-THIS-GUY-BOTHERING-YOU-QUEEN'ed. I think that interpretation of him is a bit reductive, honestly. But I do aim to argue that Arthur's hangups about gender, whatever you believe they may be, are clearly NOT derived from a penchant for gender exclusionism or from an inherent belief in male supremacy/women's subordination.

I often see this line bizarrely mischaracterized as the moment Sadie's violent rage teaches Arthur that ~women can be tough guys too~ or something along those lines. I don't think it's helpful to call fiction readings "incorrect" in 99% of cases, but given the ample and overt scene-building Rockstar does in this mission to clarify where characters' feelings are coming from, I do think this particular fandom reading badly misses the mark.

Granted, if you didn't play the game and knew nothing about the characters involved, this easily reads as a sexist jab at a woman the speaker thinks needs to get back in line with her gender role. But if you did play the game or even if you simply consider the context of the full conversation, it makes very little sense to read it that way.

Arthur's always been used to living and working with women who wield guns and do crime. We see him pulling heists and facilitating women criminals "running with the men" from the instant we hit Valentine and Arthur happily agrees to Karen's idea that he drive the girls into town to go spree-robbing together. Arthur lets Karen pretty much run the show on the Valentine bank robbery (a situation they enter fully expecting violent trouble); hell, she shoots a cop in the head right in front of him with nothing more than a shrug of her shoulders! He voices no objections to running jobs with Tilly (& Bill) either, to gunslinging with Ms. Grimshaw in Tilly's rescue, or to armed women guarding the camp. He frequently remarks at camp that Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly look bored and it's time to get them out "on a job." When Mary-Beth's pickpocketing lands her in a flight for her life, Arthur's second question (after establishing if she's okay) isn't "why aren't you acting ladylike?" or something along those lines; it's a more professional "you didn't lead them back here, did you?"

The point all these interactions are trying to establish is this: This has happened before. And it will keep happening. Though of course not ALL of the camp women actively participate in criminal jobs, women "running with men" and doing violence is normal life for Arthur. From the get-go, Rockstar makes that as clear as can be.

Though I do think Rockstar occasionally just... forgot... about Karen being a full-fledged gunslinger when crafting dialogue for Dutch & Sadie, Arthur never voices any objections to gang women participating in "men's" work, i.e., murder and mayhem.

The critical difference in the "Further Questions of Female Suffrage" quest is that this line is delivered to Sadie, and it's delivered prior to the real deepening of Arthur & Sadie's friendship. At that moment of the plot, she's not crazy gunslinging Sadie to him yet; she's a mourning homesteading widow he knows as "Mrs. Adler." Arthur has no idea she has any applicable murder & mayhem skills, and he rightfully assumes she's never participated in crime before.

Also critical: This line is delivered immediately after Sadie loudly and rudely refuses to do the usual camp chores, insisting that such women's work is inherently belittling and repulsive to her. Arthur does not devalue this work. Sadie does. Among other things, she's effectively disrespecting the labor of the gang girls who do camp chores as well as "run with the men." (Though I'd argue Sadie's not insulting anyone intentionally. Her rage at her grief and situation just has a habit of making her self-centering at times.)

Of course Arthur (who -- along with Charles, Kieran, and Pearson -- is one of the few men at camp to do domestic chores) sasses her for this. Of course he initially thinks she's got silly, wildly misconstrued ideas about what it's like to be an outlaw and do criminal gang jobs; he explicitly points this out to her in the same conversation, and he makes it clear he interpreted her objection as Sadie thinking she's too good for "women's work." And he's not altogether off the mark. (Recall that they have another female gang member who openly claims camp chores are beneath her, Molly, who is protected from reproach thanks to her personal connection to Dutch.)

So he sasses her about what he perceives as a ridiculous and ill-founded desire to "run with the men," given that she has up until that point demonstrated no skills to make that desire to "run with the men" seem like anything but one former homesteader's self-centered and possibly self-sacrificing dream of participating in active criminal life. But Sadie's the one who initially objected to doing women's work by virtue of it being women's; Arthur's sass is a direct response to the nature of her objection.

Of course, this is the mission where she does get the chance to demonstrate those skills. Arthur invites her to come along as soon as Sadie informs him she knows how to use a gun, and when she proves that to be true, he never mocks her about it again.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #redmeta #i'm not normally one to criticize alternative readings but this one has always seemed odd to me since R* sets it up very clearly #i understand a lot of sexist cismen gamers will belligerently misread text in order to validate their own nasty worldviews #but this one seems more pervasive which is strange since it's so easily refuted by even the most basic consideration of context

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - twenty-one | busking

Since you had only been to one of To The Beat’s busking events, you had already forgotten how rowdy they could get. You walked around and quietly observed everyone interacting before the dancing started, some people practicing moves up to the last minute, and some just joking and laughing.

“T/n!” Dani ran over to you and grabbed your hands, jumping with excitement.

The two of you laughed and jumped together for a few seconds. You’d never known a kid with as much energy and boundless happiness as she had, nor one as outgoing, even when you were a kid. Chunyoung ran over and stopped next to you and waited for the both of you to stop jumping. 

“You were with Dani and her mom when me and uncle Mingi saw you at the park, right?”

“Yes, I was.” 

“I’m Chunyoung,” he bowed and held his free hand out to shake.

You took his hand and shook it with a smile. “I’m t/n.”

Dani took his hand to include him, insistent that he join, and you all went back to jumping.

You all jumped for a bit, seemingly just to jump, since the original excitement of your arrival must have worn off by now. The world you grew up in seemed so alien from the one you knew now, and Dani and Chunyoung just make you wonder how different everything might be if you had been allowed to grow up like them.

“Guys!” Dei yelled from where she was with Mingi and the rest of the group, waving you over.

Dani and Chunyoung each took you by a hand and led you over to their mom and uncle, respectfully.

“You three looked like you were practicing for double-dutch over there,” she laughed.

“I’d have really good trainers if we were.” You answered with a laugh.

Dei smoothed out Dani’s hair, ruffled from the jumping. “Why were you making t/n jump?”

“I dunno. It’s fun to see her.”

You smiled. 

“I also think it’s fun to see her,” Chunyoung added with a self-satisfied nod.

Mingi fixed his hair and shook his head at you with a chuckle. “I’m glad you came out, but forgive me for not jumping.”

“Oh my god, if you tried to make me jump, that’d be terrifying. You’re too tall.”

Dei laughed and Mingi turned to her with a look of false offense.

“Is there a particular place I should sit for a good view?” You asked.

“You’re gonna sit with us!” Dani said.

“Yes! We have the best seat!” Chunyoung added.

You looked from them to the adults in charge of them. “Nevermind then.”

Dei chuckled, “You’re in good hands,” and patted you on the shoulder.

You nodded.

While everyone finished final preparations - the music system was tested one last time and the phone was put up for streaming and online tips - you, Dani, Chunyoung, and everyone took seats on the pavement so you could watch.

“Miss t/n?” Chunyoung asked.

“Yes?”

“Are you also a dancer?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m from the entertainment company that they work for, but I work in Music Production.”

“Music Production?”

“Someone who makes the music they dance to.”

“Ohhh. Is that an important job?”

You thought for a moment. “I think so. We want them to have good music to dance to, right?”

He nodded sagely.

Dani laughed and reached across you to pinch him on the knee. He swatted her hand away and rubbed the spot she pinched.

Mingi took the mic. “How’s everyone doing today?”

The crowd cheered.

Mingi smiled. “I’m glad, I’m glad. So before we get started, I just wanted to remind everyone that we’ll be having our groups from To The Beat perform, and then we’ll do the Random Dance afterwards. So if you want to show off your kpop dance skills, make sure you stick around for that, it’s always a good time. For those of you who might be streaming or who will post videos later, make sure you tag us. And… everyone have a good time.”

Everyone cheered and clapped again as he bowed a thanks and left the stage area.

The dancers were divided up into several groups depending on their age and the songs they were performing: the youngest members (who might have been trainee dancers, you weren’t sure) were broken into two groups of girls and two groups of boys, the girls performed Shooting Star by XG and OMG by New Jeans while the boys performed Sugar Rush Ride by TXT and Limitless by NCT 127. 

“What do you think of our kids?” Mingi came out and asked once the last group was done. “We’ve been training them well, right?”

The crowd applauded.

“They’re about to graduate into our main group, so give them a big round of applause and let them know how far they’ve come.”

The audience applauded louder, while the kids all bowed or looked bashful from the attention.

“Next are our groups of adults, I’ll be in one of them, and my second in command Dei, who you all know will also be in one of them.”

The crowd clapped and a few whistled at the mention of Mingi and Dei dancing in the performances.

“Oh! There he is!” Chunyoung said happily. 

Before you could turn to see who he meant, he was already yelling for them to come over:

“Uncle Yunho!”

You couldn’t bear to look in his direction.

“Chungyoung, don’t yell for people!” Dani said as she hit his arm.

“Ow, sorry.”

You could hear Yunho as he sat down behind Chunyoung.

“Hey, buddy, what’s going on?”

“We’re watching everyone dance.” Chunyoung said.

“Who are you with--”

You turned and he stopped talking when he saw you.

“This is t/n, she’s friends with my mom and uncle Mingi,” Dani said. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said curtly.

“Nice to meet you too,” he said back. 

The older dancers were similarly broken up into one group of women and two of men, the women performed First by Everglow while the men performed God’s Menu by Stray Kids and Sherlock by Shinee. Then they got into the mashup songs: there were two groups of women and one of men with the women performing a mashup of Wings by Pixy and Scream by Dreamcatcher and a K/DA and Blackpink mashup of a few songs each, the men performed a mashup of Kick It by NCT 127 and Thunderous by Stray Kids. Then the mixed groups performed a mashup of Blackpink, EXO, CLC, and Everglow, the year-end mashup you did for 2020, and a mashup of NCT Us songs from their Resonance album.

You clapped and whooped as loud as anyone else as everyone came out to bow. To say you were dazzled by everyone’s talents would have not gone far enough to explain how wowed you were by everyone’s dancing ability. Everyone was so good, even the younger dancers who must still be learning. Their movements were so sharp and on point, while still being graceful and exaggerating what they needed to. Their facial expressions were also entertaining as hell, more like the few dance groups you’ve seen than the way many idols didn’t emote on stage in favor of being pretty.

Since he arrived, you could hear Yunho cheering, and you were glad he was behind you so you didn’t have to interact with him.

As Mingi and some people, who you thought might be Wonderland sound engineering staff, moved around a few things to prepare for the Random Dance, you and your little group stood.

“Did you like it, t/n?” Dani asked.

“I did. Everyone was really good.”

“Uncle Yunho,” Chunyoung whined, “why didn’t you dance?”

“Oh… I’ve been busy lately so I couldn’t practice. I wouldn’t want to make everyone else look bad.”

“But you’re still a great dancer, uncle Yunho. Uncle Mingi could have helped you.”

Yunho looked at Chunyoung for a split second, he seemed to take offense to the idea that he’d need to ask Mingi for help.

You smirked to yourself at this.

“Chunyoung, if anyone needs help from anyone, Mingi would need help from me.”

“Oh… that’s not what he said.”

You snickered and hid it.

“Who needs help from who?” Mingi said as he came over and draped an arm across Yunho’s shoulders.

“You need a slap, is what you need.”

They started horsing around and you rolled your eyes. You supposed that, even in their mid-20s, men were still just silly little boys.

Dani turned to you. “T/n, do you want to go congratulate my mom and the other dancers on a job well done?”

“Sure.”

Dani and Chunyoung each took one of your hands and you walked over to where the majority of the dancers were to congratulate them. When Dei told them you had made the 2020 year-end mashup, several of them got excited and told you they loved it.

“She also made that girl group mashup we wanted to use but had to axe last minute,” she told the group.

“Why didn’t you use it?” You asked.

“We were going to, but three of the girls who were going to be in it had to cancel because they didn’t realize they had scheduled things for today already. So we’ll just do it next time.”

You nodded.

“Are you staying for the Random Dance?”

“Um…” Yunho and Mingi were still arguing, with Mingi in a headlock, “No, I figured I’d go home and get some stuff done and then chill for the rest of the day. I really wanted to see the Wonderland dancers.”

She nodded. “Okay, well, I’m glad you came out to support us.”

“No problem. Thank you for using my music. I’m going to get going.”

You said goodbye to Dei, Dani, and Chunyoung, and then absconded without going near Mingi, since Yunho was there.

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luvvvx • iamthehotdemon • 

#Yunho #Jeong Yunho #Ateez #Ateez smau #Ateez fic #Ateez au #music industry au #enemies to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #reader fic #ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

[clowningaroundmars]

what do u think abt the other burners zodiacs? :o ur headcanons are very interesting! id love to know more!!

geeeee. hmmmmm i actually dont know if i gave enough thoughts on everyones signs yet! i actually stalled on that zodiac part of the meme cuz i just decided it kinda... on the spot. then i finished it and went "hmm yeah, close enuf" and posted it. it started out as "lol wouldnt it be funny if chuck was an august leo" and went from there

but hell, if i did that there then i can do it with the rest of the burners here, right?

here we go

dutch: taurus sun, capricorn moon, aquarius rising (pisces venus, gemini mercury, pisces mars)

am i projecting a lil bit by giving them my sun and moon signs....... maybe. am i correct tho. also yes. the only reason why dutch hasn't up and abandoned the burners yet is probs also bc of their pisces venus and mars. despite all the sarcasm and eye rolling, he really does care for his team! he's a watery artsy lad and that cap moon wants to hide it but it all comes dissolving away once he interacts w ppl he cares abt (tennie, dar, his family, etc)

julie: gemini sun, scorpio moon, scorpio rising (taurus venus, gemini mercury, aries mars)

julie being a gem sun is very stereotypical i know but trust me on this one. she seems way too calculating to be a fire sign, but she does have that lil flame burning underneath those hundreds of layers she puts on. it's what mike saw in her when he accepted her into the team despite everyone else insisting he didn't :') also scorp moon cuz she seems to be Trying Her Best with emotions but Yikes™

texas: aquarius sun, taurus moon, sagittarius rising (aries venus, pisces mercury, aries mars)

what more can i say.... he's a Weirdo, he's an oddly emotionally intelligent weirdo. his taurus moon does a LOT of heavy lifting and he seems to be ruled by neptune to me cuz i mean.... *gestures vaguely* so yah. pisces mercury definitely doesn't help when he wants to convey anything remotely serious. plus his sense of heroism doesn't seem to come from wanting to steal all the glory, which is where i think his aqua sun and sag rising help out with

BONUS bc i actually just realized i didn't give mike's own personal planets

mike: sag sun, aries moon, taurus rising (aqua venus, pisces mars, aries mercury)

despite how much flack aries mercuries get, i can See it in mike, he's always straightforward with his thoughts (except for when he Badly conceals his angst lol typical aries mercury i would know, after all i am one OUCH) and jumps into fights very quickly. but its for ppl he loves, so its okay LOL it's his pisces mars that reigns him in most times, otherwise all that fire in his chart will burn the whole country down

chuck's own signs in case anyone missed it: leo sun, virgo moon, gemini rising (virgo mercury, cancer venus, cancer mars)

now at first glance i know everyone will see these signs as a "jittery nervous talkative dork". and lemme tell ya, he is all of those things. but. cancer mars can shelter a LOT of explosive and protective anger, which is exactly what i see in chuck. this dude is PISSED like all the time, and all he wants to do is go home (lol cancer homebodies) and just... be safe. keep his loved ones safe, too. yuh

thx for reading this word vomit LOL i still love my children so thanks for the ask! it made me think Many Thoughts abt these children again which is always a treat :)

#mine #motorcity #dont kill me if the personal planets are like.... weird #i know that mars is slower in its rotation around the sun than mercury and venus is #but uhh thats too big brained for me rn to do all that calcu-malating for a quick astro post #so take this. *gently hands you garbage* #anyone reading this pls do feel free to add onto this if u disagree #theres a lot to astrology and also these characters in general so im curious if anyone else has any thoughts like these #lets talk about it!

[inlocusmads]

Hey Mads! How are you doing? Hope life's treating you well <3. Since you're open to requests can I suggest this prompt? For any pairing, it's up to you.

"Wow, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to try and do this.”

"Well, you're here with me, so that makes you stupid too.”

Thank youu <33.

Common Ground

First dates suck. But if you are anything like Ethan and Jane, dissimilar but happy to listen and also incredibly chaotic, you might just have a good time.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey, Jane Fletcher

WC: 2.2k | TW: Some light cussing | Teen+

A/N: Tysm for the prompt Lizzie! I had such fun writing this and honestly, it is one of the only proper fluff I've ever written. So if this doesn't turn out good, then I'm going to have to cram all the stops and grow my own paddy field of fluff and harvest the fluff myself.

Also written for @aprilchallenge - Prompt: "Dinner"

Ethan learned a long time ago that Jane would never agree to go with him to a fancy dinner.

He'd thought of the best things; from the risotto alla milanese from The Golden View all the way to the banana and blackcurrant crêpes with a dollop of the sweetest vanilla ice-cream at the Bayside Beach. He'd even planned a little trip - taking her on a tour of the best, gourmet culinary downtown Boston had to offer.

Then she'd said- "I don't need fancy dinners. Imagine the sheer amount of money you'd have to spend."

"We can both afford it, Jane. It is a once-in-a-while thing. We're allowed to splurge a little, should we fancy something nice."

She'd shaken her head. "You've got to save up when you actually need it. There's no need to be so careless with money. A little carefulness can go a long way. Zuinigheid met vlijt!"

Back to the drawing board it is.

Now, Ethan was more than comfortable with Jane's cultural upbringing. Being half Canadian by citizenship, she was nauseatingly nice, as the reputation suggested. Still informal, but very nice enough to insist that she didn't deserve a lot of pomp and grandeur.

Being entirely Dutch implored her to take the reasonable path forward; a path with austerity and righteousness and order. And finally, because she was still very Jane, she enjoyed running away from a lot of things. For example, running from responsibilities, friends and anything remotely resembling social interactions.

Ethan did what any rational person would do to respond to such a constraining environment: Turn to Google.

Fifteen minutes later, he was knee-deep in Mom blogs, proposal videos and engagement rings.

There has to be a better plan.

"This is what you do, my friend. Take her to the best restaurant ever, nuh-uh-uh, I know Jane's a bit -- well, modest we'll say but she'll swoon just as much as anyone else under--"

"Goodbye Tobias."

Dialling. Dialling.

"Now Jane hates anything flashy. Have you tried making her a homecooked meal?"

"I've already done that! It seems redundant to resort to it every single time."

"But she likes it mundane."

"I don't. You've been very helpful, Sienna but --"

"Not helpful enough, I understand. I do hope you find what you're looking for."

Argh.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're supposed to know her?"

"And you don't?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "Just because I have been seeing her for a couple of months, that doesn't mean I know everything about her already."

"Well, I don't know everything about her either. You're supposed to ask her if you're looking for any proper answers."

"Oddly enough, that seems like the right thing to do. Thank you, Aurora."

"You're welcome."

____

"I seriously don't want anything. I told you, nothing flashy. I'd be more than happy to collect garbage, do laundry and do taxes with you. Enough of these dinners."

"But I'd like a dinner! Something fun for a change!"

"Fun?"

Ethan drew a sharp breath. "It seems like we've run out of common grounds."

"Okay." Jane said. "What do you picture?"

"A nice dinner. A proper conversation. Perhaps a film noir or a night out at the opera house. I've got some tickets for My Fair Lady. If time permits, dessert. Cream cakes, pasties and slices of pie, all at Matteo's. Home. A good night's sleep for a refreshing tomorrow. Call me an old soul, but I want to be able to enjoy this without people giving me grief for it. I should be able to splurge without being portrayed as hollow or undeserving. What about you?"

"Paintball."

"Paintball?"

"Paintball at Murdoc's Yard."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Seriously?"

"I've got the Murdoc Madness coupon giving me 25% off on all iced sodas and milkshakes. And I want to make sure people don't best my score at the leaderboard. I've held that position for a very long time now."

"How long?"

"Two weeks, but it is long, all right?"

"You're thirty. Thirty six to be precise."

"And?"

"It would be -- it would be strange to--"

"I want to be able to enjoy paintball without people giving me grief for it. Okay? Yeah?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"So what do we do? We have very dissimilar ideas on our ideal night out and I'm getting sick of making dinners at home and movies. I've run through the whole Netflix catalogue at this point. Perhaps we can sort it out, find some areas of interest we both have and go further?"

"It's easy. We don't have to find a common ground. It wouldn't work with us that way. Someone's always going to end up unhappy. I've got an idea. How are you with walking around?"

___

There was one thing that Jane and Ethan both shared a mutual love for: organizing things. To Ethan, it was something he'd developed quite fondly after watching his mentors work. To Jane, it was quite literally in her blood. Since they didn't mind walking around for a while, Jane ended up drafting a plan that would either go really well or become a dumpster fire overnight. However, they were half-decent at the very least, so it should work out for them.

6PM. Dinner at The Scene. Ethan loved their pastas. Wasn't too upscale, but at the same time, they had a wide range of gourmet menu to choose from. Jane settled on a tofu pasta and a Caesar salad; one of the many pitfalls of being a vegetarian with a limited menu to choose from. Ethan shot for a medium rare steak. Wine. Sacrifices were made, but Jane wasn't here for the food anyway. She was here for company and a mouth to talk for her ear to listen.

Light conversation about work and family, as Ethan intended. He went on about this interesting study he'd come across and Jane was more than happy to just listen. Socialising was hard; keeping a conversation up and relevant doubly so. He had this sort of passion and fury and fire in his eyes as he described the sheer cosmic happiness the research paper brought him. More about his own projects, a little segue into wine making and basketball and finally, steering right into the finish line of ranking every game show ever on TV.

"Let's go! Chop! Chop!"

7:45 PM. Murdoc's Yard. It was the tournament to end all tournaments- the Magnum Opus of the championship. Jane had her gear on. Ethan was on her team. Lots of yelling, crying, screaming and kicking as they dived past the crowd of children and aimed for the big guns - the firemen. Ethan got a clean headshot at Fireman One's helmet, dived just before a laser-directed paintball could whizz close to his ear. Got up again and shot one, two, three to find Jane had already taken down five people at an instant.

"Someone's having fun." she laughed. "Wow, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to try and do this.”

"Well, you're here with me, so that makes you stupid too. I mean, you're done with your ammunition! I'm done with my ammunition!"

"Fuck we should've played defense! Argh!"

"Reckon we should take their guns? They're eliminated now. You've got four-- five good ones there."

"Or -- or -- here me out, there's a storage cupboard right there. You see that black tarpaulin? You go that way, take a left and boom, infinite ammo. Sort of. But you'd have to be a bit discreet. You're not good at that. Too tall."

"You're tall too! Why does that exempt me?"

"Someone's going to have to keep guard here. I'll take care. Go, go!"

"This feels vaguely insulting, threatening and practically impossible. We are cheating, Jane. You never cheat."

"But it's fun, ain't it? GO! GO! GO! HOLY FUCK, MY DUDE, YOU'LL DIE HERE IF YOU -- OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT!"

A barrage of paintballs attacked them. Jane quickly did a barrel roll, pointed her gun at the infilitrator and jammed the trigger. Ethan scarpered to safety, ducking as much as he could; dragging his gun by the strap with his teeth.

"I GOT EM, LET'S GO! MOVE IT!"

9:50 PM. An old threatre in a narrow street was playing Pépé le Moko, a French film noir about a criminal who falls in love with a tourist, risks his life to just be with her - it was all lovey-dovey in the best ways possible. Ethan was rather obsessed with the intricate storytelling, chasistizing the unclever subtitles and poking and prodding at the cinematographic details. Jane, who did understand French, resorted to eating an unhealthy amount of popcorn, feeling nauseous but continuing to eat anyway.

The film ended with Pépe taking his own life, watching as Gaby, the love interest, leaves on a ship in a harbour. Neither of them were big romantics at heart, but it seemed like the kind of production that Ethan could love as freely as he wanted to. An old 1930s movie. A dark cinema threatre with only a couple of people in there to fill up the seats - some in need of nightly entertainment, others bored out of their mundane lives. He was right next to Jane who would rather embrace the mundaneness, even though her definition of "a routine day" was planning to dethrone a bunch of kids at paintball.

Something was right about this. He was exhausted, but something felt right.

11:00PM. Home, by the washing machine.

"I really need that shirt tomorrow."

"That's your lucky shirt?" Jane pointed to the bit of green peeking in and out behind the washing machine glass, as it rolled around in a sloppy, foamy mess.

Ethan fell silent.

"You can admit it."

"It is my lucky shirt, yes."

"You do have a lot of blues. Can't you tempt fate once and test out that old navy blue one there?"

"No, that requires a pair of black trousers and I never bothered buying one. Blue and blue -- that'd be a lot of blues."

"You should try a Scottish kilt next time."

"Ah yes. Will solve all of my problems."

"They do come in a variety of reds. You do realise red clothing takes up way less soap than the blue ones?"

"Really?"

"Nah, I'm making it up as I go along. You should know that by now."

"And it is fantastic. Really. How did you get that guy in paintball? The one with the Minions shirt? You sort of snuck up -- on him and took him out from behind."

"That's nothing. The real question is, how did you know what each restaurant is actually famous for? It's like you're Anton Ego or something - you know exactly what you're ordering and you can precisely gauge how much it is going to fill you up and -- it has to be physically impossible for you to eat at ten thousand different restaurants, so -- what was it? Food blogs? Review blogs? Yelp?"

"Just some basic internet surfing for a couple of years would give you enough information to work with. I was a bad cook back then. Learning and visiting these places helped me gain a footing in crafting my own recipes and borrowing elements from my -- erm-- grandmother. You can't exactly internet-surf strategies to get maximum kills in a paintball tournament. I simply don't understand. I am enormously, marvellously and -- possibly head over heels fascinated with this incredibly complex game of -- three dimensional chess."

"It's easy. You look at a target and you shoot. You don't think. You just do."

"That is some impeccable doing for someone who needs every step of the way planned."

"C'mon, I'm not that helpless without organisation. Sure, there are days I'd love to have nothing more than a journal and a list of tasks, but there's something nice about doing it impromptu. This sense of adventure. Have you ever had something like that? Eaten the wrong kind of food?"

Ethan chuckled. "I -- erm -- I had this very brief moment where I -- ate a lemon slice. In a cocktail! I ate the lemon! Apparently you're not supposed to do that. There's this cocktail etiquette the public doesn't teach you. Completely bodged the meeting with my publishers and Naveen and the sourness - God. I chewed on the skin, swallowed the slice and turned to everyone and I swear to God, I hear one of my publishers taking a jab at me, going, 'Naveen, are you sure this is the boy you want published?' and it was embarrassing! I was stupefied."

"So what the hell are you supposed to do with the lemon?"

"I frankly have no idea. For aesthetics, perhaps? The lemon incident doesn't stop there, you see. We get served a round of desserts and I, of course, had this unrealistic expectation to make sure everyone was impressed. We ordered some crème brûlée and each got a portion and I attempted to crack mine with a fork, which was not only rude but colossally a bad decision."

The washing machine in the laundry room whirred. Jane excused herself for a while. She came back with a tub of chocolate ice-cream and two spoons.

"Now you don't have to worry about dessert etiquette." she said. "Do you mind that I stole your ice cream?"

"Considering I bought it for the both of us, I believe it is used for a great cause. Consumption."

She handed him a spoon and opened the ice cream lid. The two of them dug in, reaching for a large scoop of ice cream, as much as their grubby hands could shovel through the snowy layers of chocolate and reach in directly for the chips and the cookies.

"Twenty two minutes." Jane read the timer on the washing machine. "You really should get a faster one. The Relmo Turbo comes for a great deal. Front-load. Built-in dryer and has seventeen different kinds of wash modes to choose from. It has a quick-wash setting as well. Pretty boss engineering, I'd say."

"Really? Hm, that is definitely something I'd give some thought to. This is five years old already and fit as a fiddle. I'm just stubborn enough to give it up."

"Oh I get you. The microwave I've had is nearing its ten year mark. It's pretty brilliant that it hasn't exploded yet."

"Mostly because it probably cooks an excessive amount of ramen."

"Oh shut up, you're not Anton Ego yet. Don't let that get to your head."

"You're no John Wick either."

Laughs.

"D'you want to sit up here?" Ethan gestured at the counter. "It's getting a bit difficult to hold the tub and the spoon and keep an eye on the monitor because it might just explode unlike your microwave."

"This is how old age starts, kids."

"You're no younger than I am, Jane "I can't even walk after a two hour consultation" Fletcher."

The two of them occupied the small counter and talked long into the night. Jane was wrong. Ethan was also wrong. They did find some common ground that day -- knowing that they didn't have any, but still eagerly invested in each other's lives and times to even give their differences any thought.

____________

Tag List:

Perma: @peonierose @writing-not @trappedinfanfiction @tessa-liam

Open Heart only: @jerzwriter @ofmischiefandmedicine @cariantha

Tysm for reading! <33 You guys are awesome.

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x jane fletcher #open heart fics #w:inlocusmads

[themastermarkus]

RDR2 - Micah and Lenny in Chapter 4

In my current playthrough of Red Dead Redemption 2, I'm in Guarma, lamenting the fact that so much of this section of the game feels like it's been cut out since it would provide an interesting liminal space for Arthur to interact with members of the gang on a personal level in the aftermath of the Saint Denis bank heist. —But what I really wanted to discuss was the one small moment of this that we do get to see: when Arthur talks to Micah about Lenny and Hosea. Micah says that Hosea was dying anyway (understandable, as they were never on good terms) but in regards to Lenny he says "Well... You know what they say about pride before a fall..." This comment about Lenny struck me as kind of strange because Micah barely ever talks to or about Lenny and prompted me to think about how both characters were presented, particularly in Chapter 4.

Both Micah and Lenny have stagecoach robbery companion activities and they sharply show the differences in their characters. Lenny is very confident that he got good information on a barely protected coach, to the point that he wanted to go alone, and had Arthur not insisted on going with him, Lenny probably would've been arrested or died there. The take is $102.50; decent, but not worth fighting several guards and U.S. Marshals for. Micah is casually confident about the job, but he brings Arthur and Bill along. He found out about the job by paying off a guy who he later kills to get back the money and not leave a trail. The take altogether is $305 for a stagecoach that probably didn't even need three people to take it. Now, these scenarios are not surprising (Lenny is much younger and hasn't even shown himself to be especially interested in violent crime while Micah is a career criminal since practically childhood) but I find it interesting that they're both in Chapter 4, which contains multiple story missions involving Lenny being on jobs with Dutch. When Dutch tells Arthur about the trolley station job at the beginning of "Horsemen, Apocalypses", Arthur suggests that they take Lenny with them, to which Dutch asks "Not Micah?" It's unclear if Dutch ever told Micah about the job, but regardless, he takes Arthur's suggestion and brings Lenny along (though funnily enough, the job unexpectedly ends up being one that Micah would have been best suited for). Then, surprisingly, Dutch doesn't bring Micah to raid Bronte's house in revenge and I can't think of why one of the gang's best shooters wouldn't be there. But you know who is there? Lenny, for some reason! I don't know if there was tension between Lenny and Micah (or Micah and Dutch) that was meant to be expanded on but was cut, or we're just supposed to intuit as much, but ultimately it feels like Micah's comment about Lenny's death in Guarma could be prompted by how Lenny was becoming more active in the gang, and was getting attention from Dutch in particular. Micah thinks Lenny was getting "too big for his britches" (overconfident, if you're not familiar with the phrase, though it's a kind of colloquialism I think Micah would use) and even though the statement was likely rooted in a bitter sense of jealousy, in a sad way this might be accurate, since Lenny died because he wasn't cautious during the Saint Denis bank heist when he ran off to find an escape route for the gang.

#rdr2 #micah bell #lenny summers #rdr2 spoilers #No shade on Lenny for being worse at crime of all things BTW

[fanfiction-inc]

May I please request headcanons for hosea x reader who sees how Hosea and Jack interact and mentions wanting a baby of their own? Love your works and hope you’re doing well!

You've been with Hosea for a while now, having met during one of the robberies he had planned with the Van Der Linde gang.

You, the paid off "hostage" who would get a cut of the money if you just played along.

And him, the scary gentleman with a gun to your head, ready to shoot if anyone makes a sudden move.

Of course he was a wee bit younger in those days, but you still looked back on them with the same fondness you feel for him now despite his age taking hold.

Watching the man over the years, it was evident how much love he had to give, how strong the gang felt like a full fledged family to him.

Arthur and John, the unruly sons.

Jack, the sweet grandson.

The boy and Hosea's interactions always make your heart swell to see, watching when they are fishing together.

When they collect flowers to bring back to Jack's mother.

How Hosea teaches the lad everything and anything he may need to know and have for an education, should he ever wish to learn more besides how to read and write.

It began to make your mind swim with the idea of having a child with the man, but you knew how he felt about such things.

He always worried about his age, about being unable to give you what you wanted with him.

Plus the risk of the lifestyle he brought you into.

The gang, and Dutch himself in the recent months.

The O'Driscoll boys.

The Pinkertons.

But this didn't stop you from asking when the time seemed right, and right now watching Hosea sit with the boy on the dock, telling him old stories from Arthur and John's youth only made you want to push more.

"And that boy was soaked from the tip of his head to his rump when that fish pulled 'im in!" The boy laughed sweetly at Hosea's story. "That's how your pa learned he was no good at fishin'."

"Do ya 'ave another story?"

"Oh, I think that's enough stories for one fishin' trip, Jack. Yer ma will want ya back home soon before it get's dark out." Those beautiful eyes of the man looked back at you, catching your gaze as you peak over the book you had disregarded in exchange for your daydream about how fatherhood would suit hi with an infant. "Ready to go, my love?"

"Oh, yes, of course darlin'." You rise, watching the boys pack up and Jack's hand instinctively moving to take Hosea's, walking with a bounce to his step as you three make your way back to camp.

Along the way, Hosea turns to you, curiously glancing over your form.

"What were you thinkin' about back there?" He questioned softly, suddenly, startling you momentarily.

"What ever do ya mean?" You question in turn.

"I know when you're deep in thought, my dear. So what was it that had ya so distracted?"

You pause, pursing your lips in contemplation. Was now the right moment to ask in front of Jack? "Fatherhood suits you," you finally admit, shrugging to your lover, "just as I find motherhood appealin'."

"You'd make a good ma, Miss. (First name)!"

A giggle left your lips. "Ya think so, darlin'?"

"Yeah!" You turn your head to Hosea, grinning to the man.

"It seems the boy agrees." Hosea sighs, a smile sneaking to his lips as he shakes his head. He had his worries, and you knew his worries were valid but dammit if you didn't want this with him. You were willing to take all the risk.

If John could have Jack, why couldn't you have a child in this life with the man you loved?

It was as if he heard every word of deliberation, able to spot the thoughts the moment they appear and see the gears in your head working away.

He knew how stubborn you were, and his smile only grew when Jack pulled away to run into camp the moment it was in sight and your arm looped with his in the boys absence. "I can't promise ya a child, but if you're insistent, I'm willin' to try."

You look up with joy to the man, smile bright and eyes even brighter, kissing the mans lips with all the love overflowing from your heart.

Overjoyed, you were so happy he finally agreed,

Finally you could try for a baby with the man who stole your heart just like he stole the money from the bank you two met in.

RDR2 TAG LIST:

@lise-soontobemarried  | @imtootiredforreddit | @morgans-cowbaby | @btsloversaregreat | @sokkasdarling | @the-internet-ruined-me

#hosea matthews #hosea matthews x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Lovely anon #thank you anon #anon ask

[violets-and-books]

Crows WWII AU because I'm feeling inspired. God, it would give me so many good historical fiction moments 👀

Kaz - (Army) Colonel who somehow managed not to get discharged back home after his leg.

Inej - (Army) She was a Women's Air Force Service Pilot for the British, but then she emigrated to America, met Kaz while he was recovering WIA, and she went back to Europe with him as a nurse/medic to make sure he didn't get himself killed. Also because she was sick and tired of the way she was being treated as a south asian, female pilot, because as we know, Inej is more than her relationship status, and she is a badass <3

Jesper - (Army) Private 1st class. He's been fighting long enough to know the ropes, and he's grown decently close with both Kaz and Inej (Kaz will not admit to this and acts annoyed by just about every one of his soldiers). Jesper always carries an extra hand gun, and he's really good with metal and parts and building because he was obsessed with Industrial Arts class back home even though his Dad wanted him to go to uni and study English.

Nina - (Army) Nurse in America, then became a translator. She and Inej met during their training. Nina gets a lot of shit because her primary job is translator, because most of the men don't speak many languages. She speaks almost all the languages in Europe, she studied linguistics in school, and she went to nursing school and immediately joined the Army after she saw wounded soldiers coming back home. She does a lot of "🖕" to numerous soldiers (justifiably) and is deemed "lewd" but she's also respected enough by Kaz that no one can get away with doing anything about it.

Wylan - (Civilian turned enlisted)(This one is long)(So is Matthias' hehe) After liberating a town, the Crows (that are in battle) see all these people who helped/interacted with the Nazis being dragged to the center of the square and beaten, shaved, or humiliated in some form by the townspeople. Most of them are women who slept with Nazis, and Jesper sees this guy (Wylan) getting dragged over and asks someone what he did and asks Nina what he's yelling (because he is obviously distressed). The guy tells him that he was caught giving the germans supplies and information, and Nina says that he's insisting he didn't want to do those things and that he was coerced. Jesper, to Kaz's annoyance, goes and questions a man dragging Wylan about this. Turns out the Germans killed Jan and threatened Alys and Wylan's newborn half-brother if he didn't supply them with the chemicals he had for his university work (that he had since dropped out of because, well, there's a war). Jesper convinces the man to leave Wylan alone. Turns out Wylan (who is Dutch), speaks enough English to thank him and ask how he can repay them. Jesper is like "we need a new medic" and Kaz is like "absolutely not" and they argue and then Nina is like "Are you certified?" And Wylan is like "No", so Jesper is like "he can make us bombs" and Kaz is like "I'd like to see someone just make a bomb without a lab, Jes" and he does indeed because Wylan shows him a disturbing collection (he was saving them for liberation to help the soldiers but they got trapped inside by a body) of homemade bombs and Kaz is like "Okay, he can come" and while he's there Nina convinces Kaz to let her teach Wylan medicine and more English since she's not an operating nurse anymore and so eventually Wylan becomes a medic (because he's a man and can actually go out into battle as opposed to Inej who has to wait for soldiers to be brought to her)

Matthias - Matthias is a Swede who was conscripted by the Germans upon living in Germany for some years after WWI because his family decided to go back to the "Fatherland" as the Nazis were fond of calling it. Matthias didn't want to fight with the Germans but he was loyal to his commanding officer (brain washing), Jarl Brum, or General Brum, and he is eventually taken as a POW, and there he meets Nina, who has to translate everything. They meet when Wylan and Jesper are on a patrol (which Wylan shouldn't have been on but he gets away with a lot because of Kaz) and they stumble upon the remains of a recent battle (they weren't in) and one of the "German" soldiers is alive. Matthias insists he's a conscript but Jesper doesn't understand, and Wylan does his best to translate. They take him back as a prisoner and there, of course, he meets Nina (and they don't like each other but the sexual tension goes from but a wave to very thick). She translates everything to Kaz, Kaz decides Matthias gets to live, specifically because he's not German but he still thinks he's an asshole, and they put him with a few other prisoners they have. Originally they were supposed to leave all of them at a base, but Kaz requests to recruit Matthias. And his commanding officer (Per Haskell) is like "FUCK no" and Kaz is like "But allow me to explain" and through the powers of Kazzle Dazzle, the crows are finally assembled.

And so, the crows fight together for a while, I nerd out historically, have some period-typical attitude moments that are now looked down upon but I think relevant to the characters in this AU, and then I wrap it up.

They all get discharged and sent home around the same time (about two months apart from Wylan to Kaz):

Wylan is first. He gets shot in battle (he lives but he couldn't fight anymore).

Inej gets ill and they find out she has an STI (from her past, so she's had it for a while) and they send her home (she gets cured eventually but it made her two sick to work and they didn't want anyone else to get it).

Jesper gets his leg broken (and treated, unlike Kaz), but he has to go home because it's a nasty break.

Nina gets attacked by a prisoner and is injured and sent home.

Matthias (idk if I'm going to kill him or not 😔 It was war after all, but I love Helnik soooo?) currently is scheduled to be shot in battle and sent home.

Kaz applies for honorable discharge because of his leg getting worse (but truly it's because he needed to be with his crows)

In a series of tiring immigration processes (and some Kazzle Dazzle) Wylan, Nina (French), Matthias, all get American green cards and go live in America because it's deemed the safest place to be at the moment out of where all of them are from.

Wesper live happily ever after (in secret because homophobia), Helnik eventually get married and settle down and have a few kids, and Kanej go to city Hall and get married but live separately for a while and their relationship is slow and safe and healthy and we love them being happy together 🤗🥰

They all have annual Christmas parties and usually meet whenever they can (they live near-ish each other but not close enough to see each other everyday) and their kids get along quite well and they build their own little families from the one they found during the war. The end.

Thoughts 👀 (this was a long ass ask I'm sorry bestie 😅🙈)

Bestie, I am a decrepit little Victorian child and this is like the scriptures from Heaven

I am FROTHING at the mouth, BESTIE!!!!!! please let me find you some music for this oh please oh please oh please i beg i will get down on my knees and beg ww2 music is everything to me

Colonel Kaz!!!! Very impressive, sir, should I curtsey? (omg, please let either Wylan or mattie snark at him like that when they first meet)

Kaz deciding to keep fighting the Nazis even though he's a dumbass and has a broken leg, we love a hero

Inej!!!!!!!! My beloved, in the WRAF!!! Kind of like my great grandpa except not really cos he was a bloke!!!!

I would trust Inej to be a nurse for me. I really, really would

Inej 👏 is 👏 more 👏 than 👏 her 👏 relationship 👏 status 👏 👏

Engineer Jesper!!!!! Ajsiskrbgnamqosnffh!!!!!!!!

Jesper being good with metal and guns!!!!! Hehehehehehehehehehehe, I love how you've included his Grisha powers in the au so well!

Jesper would be good to have as a sniper during sweeps through occupied cities. Never misses and all

PLEASE let him and Wylan have little nerdy talks!!! Please oh please oh pleeeeaaaassssseeeee!!!!! I desperately need them to be nerds together, for my SURVIVAL

Nina nurse and translator, now I should definitely curtsey!

JESUS CHRIST SHE SPEAKS A LOT OF LANGUAGES, I CAN BARELY SPEAK ENGLISH AND IM VAGUELY GRASPING SPANISH. NINA, MY QUEEN, THOU ART A GODDESS

Some random soldier: That nurse Nina is so rude!

Kaz: I like her

Some random soldier, sensing the end is nigh: Well, um, I mean, she's, uh, she... *clears throat* she alright. I suppose. For a woman

Jesper seeing Wylan being dragged out to have his hair shaved off and thinking "but his hair's so pretty, they can't do that". Cos Jesper is OBSESSED with Wylan's hair, I swear

Wylan with the homemade bombs, we love an entrepreneur

Oh nooo, the Germans killed Jannnnn, how truly awfulllll, he didn't deserve that at allllllllll

Dutch Wylan, ooooooo!!! I like that! (fun fact, me and my friend were trying to find Holland cos we wanted to work out where it was for soc reasons and cos we both do History rather than Geography, we didn't know Holland was also The Netherlands. So we spent about 15 minutes staring at a map of Europe, passing over the Netherlands quite a bit, and going "but where's Holland")

I want to learn Dutch. I think it really suits Wylan, awesome!

Ah ha, Jarls Brum, so nice to see you again *sharpens blade*

New achievement unlocked: Matthias Helvar has reached status Prisoner. Again.

Kaz: Hey, can we let this Swedish conscript guy we took prisoner fight with us?

Haskell: WTF, no, that's a terrible idea

Kaz: I see. But also *presents Haskell with a small piece of paper* this might change your mind

Haskell: This is just 'I can do what I want' written on the back of a leave permission slip

Kaz: 🖕Exactly

Nerdy history facts!!!!!! Gimme gimme gimme!!!!

Poor Wylan 😔😔😔 I hope he threw a bomb at whoever shot him

POOR INEJ!!!! OMG, poor love!

Jesper, in his letters back to the front: Hey, Kaz, we match now

Kaz: Absolutely fuck you, I will strip you of your title

Jesper: What title, you never promoted me

Kaz: I will promote you just to strip you of your title

Jesper: Can I be a general?

Kaz: No.

Nina noooo!

Matthias could be shot kinda bad and then you can include the shit about blood transfusions being experimental in ww2. But OBVIOUSLY he survives (even though the survival rate for blood transfusion was maddeningly low when they were first invented) and then he gets to go to America to recoverrrrrr

French Nina, I like it!!!!

Secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper secret wesper

History books years later: Wylan Van Eck and Jesper Fahey were both discharged from the army at similar times. After a short recovery period, they bought a house together in [whatever US state]. Wylan Van Eck at the time did not have an American Green Card so this was the only way he could continue living in Ally territory. They were often seen out together in public and neither of them ever married, despite Jesper Fahey having been quite a flirt in his youth. They were described by close friends as "joined at the hip" and are one of WW2s most enduring friendships

Bestie, I'm fucking OBSESSED

Annual Christmas parties, love it. And all the kiddos!!!!

Bestie, bestie, bestie. Do not apologise for this MASTERPIECE. I have been fed enough to last throughout the winter

#lore <3 #blaize answers #six of crows #lore's incredible ideas 🧠 #six of crows au #tw nazi mention #bestie im screaming i love this sm

[thy-lover]

Never Fall in Love Again - M. Bell, D. Van Der Linde

Do Not Interact/Read unless over 18+

WARNINGS - GAY FIC/Sex, One-Sided Pining, Angsty, Smut(the unromantic kind), Public Sex, Cheating, Dom!Micah/Sub!Dutch, Hair Pomade as Lube but what the hell, i dare you to find me some K Y Jelly in the 18 fucking '00s plus I'm as creative as the color gray(fuckit,hairpomadefortheclutch)

SUMMARY - Why was Dutch so blinded by Micah that he would betray his only son? Arthur Morgan breaks up with Micah Bell. And during an escort job, Dutch Van Der Linde attempts to pick up what his "son" left behind.

(gif by @woman-with-no-name)

The glances Dutch sent Micah have not gone unnoticed by Micah, but the job had to be done, and that meant there was no fuckin around.

A man sat between Micah and Dutch in the carriage, with his hands tied and his feet bound. They were to drop this man off at the sheriff's office for a bounty, they just had to collect the money and go back to Shady Belle. And for some odd reason Dutch told Micah he wanted to come, no insisted and Micah who valued his precious alone time had to give it up and agreed.

After they dropped the wanted man off, Micah and Dutch rode in peaceful silence, that is until Micah saw Dutch look at him once again and without hesitation, Micah's annoyance took over "Speak. Dutch. Gettin' tired of them side glances."

Dutch cleared his throat at the unexpected call out "Wonderin' why Arthur left you is all...?" it spoke out more like a question than an explanation.

Micah cringed internally his hands gripped the reigns tightly, the wound slightly re-opening.

"I hate you!" Arthur shouted stomping his boot down onto the sand.

Micah snickered "Oh, please, you hate me now, cowpoke? Never said nothin' like that when you was fuckin me."

Arthur turned around sharply "You cheated on me!!! Yous lucky I don't shoot you where you stand."

"thought I told you, that was an accident ain't mean nothing to me."

Arthur scoffed "Go to hell, Micah."

In Micah's head he did nothing wrong fuckin that lady was sure as shit unexpected but hell he was drunk. Too drunk to tell a pussy from a cock. Well, that ain't the whole truth. He was drunk, but he couldn't verbally deny the working girl who grabbed him by the coat and drag him to a room. It felt good, Micah couldn't deny that so he kinda just went along with it. In his drunken state all he knew was fucking her stimulated the feeling of making love to Arthur.

But it wasn't until Arthur walked in did Micah look at the woman who was very much not Arthur and look at the very real Arthur standing at the door his hands ready to grab his guns.

"Ah, Arthur," Micah pulled his cock out of the woman and stumbled over to the door "Won't ya join us? She feels mighty good, I thought she was ya for a second." Micah went to Arthur attempting to through himself at him. Micah's face was greeted with an oak door busting Micah's nose and making Micah fall on his ass "Fuck!"

The woman got up from the bed and put her johns back on and fixed the bottom half of her dress, she walked over to Micah and held out her hand "That'll be five dollars sug."

Micah just huffed and used his free time to find a cigarette and lit it "Cheated on 'im." no point in lying Dutch probably already knows.

"Why'd ya do that?" Dutch asked.

"Hell am I supposed to know!!!" Micah immediately regretted the way that came out and took another puff of the cigarette "Ugh, Dunno, I was drunk, didn't, didn't know what I was doing."

Dutch reached over to Micah and pulled the cigarette right out his mouth and put it in his own "Then I guess that means me and you have more in common than id like to think."

Micah knew what he was talking about it wasn't exactly a secret. Dutch was known for sleeping around with 'business partners' behind the back of whatever woman he was married to at the time. His explanation being he does this 'for the sake of the gang' his reputation exceeded him.

Micah shrugged "I guess, you fuck a woman behind your boyfriend's back?"

Dutch snorted out in a tiny fit of amusement "Can't say I have but I have cheated on a wife with a man."

Micah doubled over accidentally tugging the reigns making the horses shift drastically "Shit Micah!" Dutch grabbed the wooden bench and only let go once Micah got the horses back on the road "The fuck do ya mean, with a man?"

Dutch shrugged "For the sake of the gang right?"

Micah scratched his neck "Didn't make ya out to be the type to like men."

As silence overtook the air allowing two men to gather their bearings. But Dutch was the one to ward off the silence "Arthur ever blow ya?" Dutch asked putting out the cigarette.

"W-what?" Micah asked flabbergasted.

Dutch stared into Micah's eyes with a stern look "Asked if Arthur ever blow you?"

Micah recovered quickly still feeling cocky over the fact that he bagged Arthur fucking Morgan, he was ready to brag about it anytime any place "Of course he blew me. Put my cock down his throat like a pro." Micah made it sound like he wasn't begging for it.

Dutch reached over and grabbed Micah's thigh feeling along the inner seam till he could feel the tip of Micah's cock through his jeans "Would you allow me to try to best him?"

Given Micah's drive and lack of sexual control, his nerves were spiking but Micah played it off well with a cold look sent Dutch's way "Fuck would you want to do that for?"

"if you don't want me to then by all means say no." Micah looked at Dutch with the most confused look in the world.

Micah scoffed he was probably just trying to gauge a reaction "Be my Guest." Micah joked.

Unfortunately, well at least to Micah, Dutch reached over and began unbuckling Micah's belt "Hey! What the hell're you doin'?!"

Dutch looked up at him and smirked continuing onto his zipper "Something wrong?"

Micah decided to stay silent and allow Dutch to effectively get his cock out when someone in another coach looked over to them, Micah immediately pulled out his revolver and aimed it at the bewildered man. Micah was lucky he still had his mask on, "Fuck outta here, for I take your head off."

The man on the other coach whipped his horses to move faster. When Dutch undressed him enough for Micah's cock to spring out, he started with a tight fist around the base. Micah growled at him and looked up to see a few cardinals and crows fly by, he didn't want to look down, didn't want to see anyone but Arthur give him a blow job.

Dutch soon licked around the tip of Micah's dick, Dutch in a moment of clear-headedness realized he was sucking off Micah Fucking Bell, when Dutch looked up to see a grateful Micah he was greeted by Micah trying to look anywhere but at him.

"Micah! Your supposed to-"

Micah finally looked down a type of darkness coating his eyes "Quit talkin' just keep goin',"

Micah's hand traveled from the base of Dutch's neck before weaving it in Dutch's long black hair "Said keep going Dutch." Dutch slowly began to take Micah's head back in his mouth at first, allowing Micah to get used to the feeling, from his mouth Dutch began to take him further, and the process was sped up when Dutch allowed Micah to fuck his mouth and hold down his head "Arthur!" the way Arthurs name came out of Micah's mouth was so hot, so natural like he should moan no one's name but Arthurs. Micah can't help but remember the high he got when Arthur gave him a blowjob.

Micah was more than happy at the fact that he wore his leather shotgun coat. The tree he was leaning against had gnarly bark and Arthur wasn't stopping. When was the last time he felt so good? His mouth made Micah shake and grab. When was the last time he felt so good about himself, just the mere sight of Arthur down on his knees, with his cute little pink tongue sticking out to collect whatever was left in the wake of his undoing?

"Told ya it wasn't so bad," Arthur said casually swallowing Micah's cum. A wave of adoration hit Micah like he just saw Arthur again for the first time, just fallen in love all over again.

"Shit, Arthur," Micah took a big breath "Say we ought to take this to your tent?"

Dutch growled, pulling Micah out if his state. When Micah looked down to confront Dutch the image of Arthur replaced Dutch. Micah grabbed 'Arthur' by the hair and began to fuck his mouth "Keep goin' Arthur."

Dutch couldn't tell how long he was sucking Micah off, it wasn't until Dutch was let up for air did he speak, Dutch was frustrated, frustrated Micah hasn't fucking cum yet. His jaw was fucking hurting and his throat felt numb "Micah! Cum or something!"

Micah stopped in his tracks the image of Arthur faded away, the weight of the world falling back on Micah's shoulders, the weight of a world without his little cowpoke.

Micah grabbed the reigns and tugged the reigns and the horses sharply went right and planted themselves to the side of the road. Micah leaned forward and began to rip the buttons off Dutch's vest "Micah!" Dutch scowled at the action of his expensive vest being destroyed

Micah didn't bother to care only fanned his hands around Dutch's abdomen, Micah's mouth trailed down to Dutch's nipple, and began to bite the surrounding strong flesh. Dutch's back arched to allow Micah more access to his chest. Micah pulled away and grabbed Dutch's neck "Get out."

Dutch was confused at first but when Micah gave Arth-Dutch a look that meant unfinished business Dutch scrambled out of the Chuckwagon. Micah followed behind him and when they were in the clear Micah pushed Dutch against the side of the chuckwagon.

This was unusual behavior for Micah when it came to him and Arthur who topped was always a 50/50 Micah would sometimes top, and Arthur would sometimes top. Micah thoroughly enjoyed being a bottom, but so did Arthur. They both need to be weak for each other they both need to feel protected and bottoming was something Micah only felt safe with if it was Arthur. While Micah's heart hardened he made up his mind to allow the urge to dominate Dutch to take control.

Micah began to unbuckle Dutch's belt and pushed his pants down past his knee. Dutch got the gist and stepped out of his pants. Micah spits in his hand and began stroking Dutch's cock. Micah didn't unclothe he just used his other hand to unbuckle his belt and push his pants far enough down so that he can free his cock.

"Turn around." Micah ordered Dutch.

Dutch turned around bending ever slightly with his palms pressed flat against the wagon. Micah pushed his hands up to feel the small of Dutch's back. But slowly lowered them so Micah could cup Dutch's ass "Gotta lube ya up Dutch. How'd I do it? Less you want me to just-"

Dutch rolled his eyes not that Micah could see it "Got hair pomade, check the drawer." Dutch pointed to the side of the chuck wagon. Micah did just that and managed to find the tin. With haste, Micah put the Pomade on two of his fingers he reached down and applied it to Dutch's tight hole.

Micah fingered him, slowly at first but the moment Dutch began to moan "Micah's little slut are you?" Micah growled.

Dutch couldn't help but bite his lip and close his eyes. Dutch wouldn't lie, this has happened to him before hell he's even done it to himself. Finger himself while jacking off often brought pleasure to himself as Dutch has never known. But since Micah joined the gang. Well technically since Micah saved his life, Micah was on Dutch's mind 24/7. How many times has he silently apologized to Molly because of an accidental name-drop. In all fairness, her and Micah's name did start with an M.

But this was real, not some fever dream. Here he was using Micah and his 'sons' relationship issues to his advantage.

Dutch began to moan again "Been thinking about this long boss?" Micah said teasingly. Dutch's willingness was odd and his moaning confused Micah.

Dutch slowly nodded, Micah laughed, but his laugh was cut short when he heard horseshoes tapping the road and getting louder. Micah's eyes met a young traveler who started at Dutch and Micah with shock, Micah quickly grabbed his gun and shot at the floor near the horse's hooves "Get the hell outta here!"

The man rode away fast.

Micah turned back to Dutch and chuckled "Sick of waiting now Dutch."

Micah forcefully turned Dutch around and press his back up against the wagon. Micah raised Dutch's legs so they rested around his hips and Micah held Dutch up by the thigh.

Micah used the remained of pomade to coat his cock with, "line me up Dutch, gotta hold you."

Dutch reached between his thighs to grab Micah's dick and line it up with his ass "ah, 'kay."

Micah immediately thrust forward his dick finally entering Dutch. Dutch on the other hand had other ideas. Dutch raised his hand and punched Micah right on the jaw not hard enough so Micah would drop him, but hard enough to get his point through. Micah snarled immediately at Dutch "Fuck you do that for?!"

Dutch growled back "What do you want to skewer me?! Take it slow you bastard! Fuckin' hurt!"

Micahs eye twitches 'Arthur was a whole lot less of a fuss' he couldn't help but think.

Micah just sighed and stayed in him knowing it was probably gonna hurt if he pulled out. However, Micah could feel himself getting tired of holding Dutch so before his arms gave out Micah rushed Dutch to the back of the wagon kicked the tailgate so it fell open, and instructed Dutch to try and lay down all with his cock still in him "For fucks sake Micah."

Micah just huffed and allowed Dutch to comfortably get into a missionary position "What? Can't hold onto ya forever!"

Dutch just threw his head back and tried to ease the discomfort of Micah's hard dick causing pulsing pain, Micah just tilted his head to the side. From this position, he could be mistaken for Arthur. Micah reached down to Dutch stomach with one battered and calloused hand.

Micah couldn't help but press down on the flat yet strong area that was Dutch's stomach right above his hip "What are you doin'?" Dutch asked.

Micah just looked back up at him "Fucked Arthur in this position. Last time I did it he came so hard all over his stomach."

Dutch crossed his arms "Yeah well let's not worry about Ar-"

"Nah, you don't get it. I fucked Arthur. And I watched his cum coat his belly," Micah began to raise Dutch's legs higher "Heard there was a spot in women. Makes 'em whine and beg. Think I might have hit the male version of that spot when I fucked Arthur," Micah lowered his hand so he could grab Dutch's manhood and stroke his slick member, Micah began to tighten his fist around Dutch, his wrist moving up and down. Micah repositioned his hand. So that when his fist reached near the top, Micah could raise his thumb to stroke the tip of Dutch's dick "Heard it was called a...a... prostate? I think."

Dutch reached out and grabbed Micah's black coat by the collar, the more Micah stroked Dutch the more his mind began to wander away from the pain. Micah took this as his opportunity to move slowly. Not thrusting very hard just a slow but steady easing motion never letting go of Dutch.

Suddenly Dutch gave him the okay to move faster, Faster Micah did go. Stroking Dutch faster and pounding into Dutch faster "Micah!" Dutch squealed out.

Micah stared at Dutch's face, watching as it changed watching as the illusion came back. He was no longer looking at Dutch's face he was seeing Arthur move and moan.

"Micah!" With one final shout, Dutch felt Micah hit his prostate and continue doing so. When Dutch found the strength to open his eyes he watched Micah stare deeply into his eyes not saying a word nothing but heavy breaths and sharp inhales.

'could this be it? Could Micah finally love me more than Arthur?'

O B S S I O N

Micah began to lose it he felt himself jump off the bridge of ecstasy "I gotta cum, Arthur," Dutch had come on his stomach, but there was something that pulled Dutch out of ecstasy.

H A T R E D

"ARTHUR!" Micah howled as he let himself go completely. And as Micah came he draped himself over 'Arthur'. Pants of exhaustion Micah "Arthur-" Micah said in the crook of 'Arthurs' Neck.

"Arthur I am so-" when Micah pulled himself up to gaze at 'Arthurs' face swift reality him.

Dutch looked up at Micah with Rage mixed with a little hurt. Micah stopped himself and pulled away completely, he did it again. He did what Arthur left him to form Arthur may have dumped Micah flat on his ass but Micah still wanted him. Micah was willing to change.

A N G E R

Micah growled and took his cock out of Dutch and stuffed it back in his pants. Micah pulled his gun out of his holster and stuck it right under Dutch's chin. Dutch looked at Micah with anger and jealousy "Tell anyone, Arthur especially about this. And I will kill you."

Micah tucked his gun back in his holster and whistled for Baylock who was peacefully grazing.

________

The motives behind the betrayal of Dutch Van Der Linde and Arthur Morgan is unknown. What caused a father figure to turn the gun on his own son is a question that grew in the west and die in the Old America.

#micah bell #micah bell x dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #gay fanfiction #gay love #rdr2 fandom

[punktrsh]

do they have any scars or birthmarks on their face or neck? do they have any other distinguishing features that are not easily seen?do they need to wear glasses or contact lenses? how often do they wear them?are their overall preferences towards hair on themselves the same or different towards other people?can they braid hair?do they have any tattoos? if so, where?would they get (more) tattoos? why or why not?which of their bodily feature(s) is/are the most prominent? ily <3

an intricate cheat sheet for muses.

do they have any scars or birthmarks on their face or neck?

so, no birthmarks, but he does have like the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. they were a lot more distinct when he was younger, they’ve faded significantly with time. he has a small scar along his hairline, by his left temple, from hitting his head against a table leg as a child.

do they have any other distinguishing features that are not easily seen?

that are not easily seen? hmm. he has some pretty beaten up knuckles if you look at his hands carefully! but other than that, not really. i think the distinguishing features he has, you tend to see? for example, if you don’t notice he has heterochromia at the very least you notice how blue his eyes are. in terms of anything that’s hidden by clothes, i would say not really? he has mostly faded self harm scars, but depending on his age they’re probably covered by tattoos.

do they need to wear glasses or contact lenses? how often do they wear them?

i’ve already answered this for tris’ main verse here, so this will pertain to his wealthy au instead! given the nature of his work, tristan actually needs his glasses way more often. like, daily (assuming he has work or school). he tends to wear contacts despite his small prescription, as keeping track of his glasses when he moves around at work is a hassle. he has a horrible habit of falling asleep with them in, and then waking up the next morning with the audacity to be surprised his eye is killing him. he wears his glasses if he’s working from home, or reading of his volition. so similar to in his main verse, if he doesn’t really know you/interact with you regularly, chances are you would never know he wears glasses at all. when it comes to being in a work setting, if he’s not wearing contacts then he’ll just go without. fortunately, his vision isn’t bad (it’s just one eye!) and he’s nearsighted so it isn’t much of an issue anyway.

are their overall preferences towards hair on themselves the same or different towards other people?

so, i answered a little bit of that here, but i’ll expand on it. really, tristan just doesn’t give a shit. i mean, at the end of the day, what someone does or doesn’t do with their body hair has nothing to do with him. as long as they’re like —- trimmed/maintained and (way more importantly) clean, have as much or as little body hair as suits you. for himself, he doesn’t really do much with it, and he wouldn’t hold that expectation on others.

can they braid hair?

he can! all thanks to his little sister. ryan used to pester him growing up until eventually he gave in and learned to braid. you name it, he can do it: french, dutch, fishtail, etc. when he worked as a camp counselor, he often got stuck with a line of little girls insisting that he do their hair the moment they were out of the water. now he has little to no reason to braid anyone’s hair, he may be a little rusty, but he can still do it!

do they have any tattoos? if so, where?

oh god, let me just talk about the prominent ones. i’ve literally been deciding on this exact headcanon for years, and it’s a combination of there being too many to count, but also it being so verse dependent that it drives me absolutely crazy. so here are the ones that (if it’s any branch off of his main verse: band au, sober au, etc) you can always expect to see. he has a minimalist tattoo of the solar system (left) and the constellation sirius (right) on his wrists. there’s a forest piece covering his shoulder blade (left), a little piece of home since he’s decided he’s never going back to maine. nature is king here, as he has this intricate quarter sleeve (right) centered around an owl, and a wolf thigh piece (right). he has the millennium falcon schematics up his (left) forearm. he has more, and i’m sorry i don’t have reference pics but UGH LIFE, you know? anyway, these are THE ones you can count on less we’re writing wealthy or caos tris.

would they get more tattoos? why or why not?

hell yeah, he would! it’s really all a matter of what he wants (he feels like he’s figured out the sweet spot between overthinking/talking yourself out of a tattoo vs. not thinking about it enough) and if he has the funds. he likes his tattoos, the pain isn’t a deterrent, so really there’s nothing stopping him from getting more in the future.

which of their bodily feature(s) is/are the most prominent?

you mean like, how everybody knows that’s big dick bee?? no, i would say the fact that he’s tall and skinny just makes him seem taller, so the fact that he’s typically very stoic can make him come off as a very imposing/intimidating presence. exactly that is why no one fucked with him in high school.

#⌞ 💀 ⌝ MAIN VERSE ⟶ HEADCANON ⌜ we are never where we thought we’d be. ⌟ #⌞ 💵 ⌝ ALT. VERSE 1 ⟶ HEADCANON ⌜ wanna stay broke forever? that’s that shit no one’s ever said. ⌟ #a:bcbylxn #bcbylxn #⌞ 💀 ⌝ MAIN VERSE ⟶ ANSWERED ⌜ up rolls a riot van and sparks excitement in the boys. ⌟ #//self harm cw #why'd this take mE SO LONG

[thegoblinwitchqueen]

In this Eden

Chapter: 8

Dutch Van der Linde X OC18+ Word Count: 7807

AO3

Dutch did not trust her.

At least, not yet .

Still, regardless of how frustrating the whole situation happened to be, she could not blame him for it. And, despite her best efforts to fully engross herself within the outlaws blended family of misfits and petty criminals, Effie was… different.

Whether of her own accord or due to the opinions of the others living amongst the camp, it did not matter how many dishes she washed, clothes she sewed, or wood she chopped—to the people who housed her, Florence was an unknown woman who just so happened to show up, figuratively and literally, at the proverbial front step of the Van der Linde campsite.

As well, the obviously fabricated and last minute story of her past as an acrobatic horse performer was not as believable as Hosea had insisted it to be. As a result, until Effie was able to prove her loyalty to Dutch, and in turn his counterpart Hosea, she was to be kept at an arm's length of distance and watched with scrutiny and suspicion. With bated breath and bit tongues, Effie waited with agonizing anticipation for the Van der Linde gang’s..and most importantly Dutch’s approval….or disapproval.

Ironically, Florence was never really good with just about anything that required patience on her part, and often found herself rushing head first into most things with little to no forethought. Especially when it came to bounties or sinful pleasures which was why she had gotten so caught up in booze and morphine not so long ago.

However, no matter how badly her core ached to enact her revenge on Dutch Van der Linde in the middle of the night just to get it over with.. she had to remind herself of what Buck would say. The man she loved had told her many times in their years together that a little bit of patience could make the difference between a small pay out, or an even larger one. A live bounty paid better than a dead one. That was certain.

The same could be applied to Dutch Van der Linde.

Effie surmised that she could just kill him, face the repercussions of her hot blooded actions by way of a gruesome death at the hands of his men, or…she could find a way to capture and turn in the Bastard as a last fuck you.  Just to shatter the man’s ego and prove that he was not as untouchable as he thought he was. Florence decided that waiting for a moment to separate Dutch and strike when least expected would be her best option. As well as a safer one.

And so, Effie decided to play the part of a good girl by helping around camp, performing various activities to help with chores, and kept a relatively low profile simultaneously. Before she had realized, it had been almost two laborious weeks since her first interaction with Dutch and Hosea after she had awoken from her ordeal in the woods.

The days had come and gone with little to no significant issues other than a, albeit petty, bicker between Effie and Miss Susan Grimshaw over whether or not a frying pan was cleaned to the camp dictator's unattainable standard of satisfaction. By the end of second week, the young woman was nowhere near as close with the gang as she had started and things were not looking as though they would improve any time soon.

The thread of her patience was running ever thinner… ready to snap at any given moment.

At first, she thought the women of Dutch’s clan avoided her gaze because of the unsightly injuries upon her nose and eyes thanks to the hefty branch that ran into her. But after a few days, the wounds gradually started to turn a nasty shade of green and yellow; by the end of the second week, they had almost fully healed. Still, the girls would continue to whisper, or avoid her, without a good reason….At least a reason good enough for Effie.

The only woman who gave her any sort of attention was Miss Grimshaw, and most of their interactions were not particularly pleasant. Even Abigail had begun to avoid her too, but after seeing a somber expression across her face whenEffie had tried to start up a bit of small talk around the wash tub, Effie suspected that Abigail's reluctance to interact with the strange woman was at the request of Dutch.  

Frustrated, but nonetheless, Effie decided that she would play along with his game of divide and conquer. She knew this war tactic very well, and her pride helped her through the long days of silence by reminding her that she was the brains behind every score held by Ike Skelding. Florence Barlowe was smart and fierce. If she could survive three days of dehydration and hypothermia, she could survive a few catty women.

However, pride could only hold out for so long…and after a while, Florence couldn’t help how the expressions of wariness, unwelcomed auras, or avoided eyesight caused her to feel jaded and left out in ways similar to a young girl still struggling to navigate the subtleties of societal unspoken laws. Mind games as it were. Fuckin…childishness and mind games. Psychological warfare seemed to be Dutch’s preferred method of torture…hers as well, but that was besides the point.

Life around the Van der Linde camp was difficult for everyone,but especially at night for Florence. Effie knew she was not welcome to rest on a cot next to Karen, Mary Beth, and Tilly and it only took two days for her to realize this after multiple instances of finding her bed of stiff canvas moved from underneath the designated tent to various places the women of Dutch’s clan deemed fit for a suspicious stranger.

Far away.

Out of spite, Effie returned her cot once or twice but eventually stopped moving it back to its original spot next to Tilly. The whole thing grew tiresome and not worth the hassle. So, After her chores were completed when the stars grew bright and many in number, Effie spent her nights alone on her cot slightly out of the camp's perimeter near where Kieran and the horses slept.

When she awoke, she was met with disgruntled demeanors and Effie decided the path of least resistance was to eat her meals alone amongst the gang's horses where she slept. She did not mind it, even enjoyed it, for their rumbling bellows and pawing replaced conversations dull with small talk or questions she was exhausted of answering time and time again. Perses seemed to enjoy the companionship as well, even taking a liking to Charles Taima.

The only one who she did spend time with was Kieran, but even he was not an official member of the gang. Much like her, he too had to prove his worth to Dutch Van der Linde and co., and still faced ridicule from the various members…ahem, Bill Williamson… who had only recently warmed to the idea of an O’ Driscoll amongst them. However, unlike Kieran, Effie could not win Dutch’s approval through raiding a log cabin owned by the man’s former rival, Colm O’Driscoll, to take home a vast amount of stolen money. No, Florence had to find another way to prove herself.

A way in which she had yet to discover.

However, it seemed that despite Dutch’s reluctance to allow Effie into his family, she was hardly ever alone. No matter where she sat, slept, or even shit, there just so happened to be one of Dutch’s boys lurking around the corner, just waiting for her to make a wrong move, say the wrong thing, or show her true intentions for being there amongst his unwanted riffraff.

Her reluctant companions often rotated in cycle between Bill, Javier, Sean, John, and Charles. Mostly Charles. Effie was able to figure out she was being followed rather quickly, and Dutch eventually stopped sending Bill and John as their heavy steps and grumbling often exposed their locations without the young woman putting in much effort, if any, to find them.  Sean was too noisy, and was unable to cease his annoying chatter which knocked him out of the rotation after the first attempt. She did not miss him, and silently thanked Dutch for that decision.

Occasionally, Effie was trailed by Dutch’s  own workhorse, Arthur Morgan, but only when he was in the vicinity of the camp. Which… was very few and far between. Again, she did not mind it. The two barely spoke as it was, and Arthur did not seem to care for her just as much as she for him. Very little.

The only form of freedom and privacy she had was when she walked down the hillside to reach the river where the gang bathed, or refilled their fresh water reservoirs, to wash her own aching body free of the grime and muck she acquired throughout the week from this new life of hardship…and freedom. At least, she thought.

“We should probably head back. It’s not safe to stay out this late.” Her ordained companion Charles Smith, large and broad, sat atop a large stone boulder, overlooking the lazy moving river with an expression of apathy that Effie now knew was his default resting face.

In one hand, his knife cut free fragments and slivers of curled wood and the other held a small block he pulled from the pile of kindling prior to their journey to the river. It was early in the evening when Effie decided to clean herself, and unfortunately for the both of them, that meant an escort.

Luckily, Charles no longer bothered to hide or pretend that he just happened to be in the area. This tiny gesture of respect allowed for some semblance of friendship to grow between the two which made things easier for the both of them.

“ You can head back. I’m not finished yet.” Effie announced with a layer of agitation to coat her words. She laid on her back amongst the smooth river rocks with her body half submerged in the crystal clear water. She had her eyes closed, and relished the feeling of the crisp spring current which gently glided over her and pulled gently on the ends of the nightgown she wore. The young woman imagined the grime of her body, and soul, as the water washed it away to be carried downstream until she could no longer feel the suffocating blackness, hot and sticky, that lingered on her aching limbs.

“You know I can’t do that.” Charles responded flatly. No matter what she said or did, the dark skinned man never once gave into her poking and prodding, unlike the ways in which Bill or John did. It truly didn’t take much for Effie to talk her way out of being followed, or for extra minutes of alone time which she would use to lose her already frustrated keepers. Probably why Dutch asked Charles to follow her from now on. “Dutch’s orders.”

“I know .” Effie groaned, long and hard in exasperation. The curls of her hair unraveled under the water, and the contents of her mind too unraveled to the image of the dark haired and charismatic leader.  She let out a guttural and animalistic sound from deep within her chest as her heart beat irregularly within its protective casing of freshly healed ribs. The very thought of Dutch Van der Linde did that to her, even though she did not fully understand why. “I wished he’d just…trust me already.”

“I understand,” Charles let out his own sigh, and stowed his well worn hunting knife safely within the leather hilt of his gun belt. In a surprisingly graceful motion, the large man descended the Boulder and leaned his weight against the smooth surface, watching the young woman’s brows as they furrowed and her lips tighten until they became a thin line across her no longer bruised face. Although to her dismay, her nose was slightly crooked and seemed to want to stay that way forever more. “but you haven’t really made much of an effort to change that.”

“Not much of an effort?!”

Effie shot up from her place amongst the stones with an expression of frustration across her face, and with one hand, she forcefully skipped her palm across the River surface in a futile attempt to splash her unwanted keeper. Charles only smirked, for the water shaped like bullets could not reach him where he stood with his arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“What do you mean ‘not much of an effort’ ? I’ve cooked, I’ve cleaned! For fucks sake, Smith! My hands are practically skinned to the bone from scrubbing the man’s trousers free of stains! Most of which I’m not even sure where they came from!” Effie pouted. The young woman rose from the river, and squeezed the water from her soaked hair and gown as tightly, and forcefully, as she wished she could apply to Van der Linde’s throat at that very instance.

Once satisfied, Effie huffed and exited the stream where she threw her arms out towards the sky, or god, in frustration.“I’ve bitten my tongue around Grimshaw, I’ve kept his stallion free of dust and debris, I’ve shined his boots—-What must I do, Charles ?! I’ve done everything I can think of!”

Charles only shrugged.

Effie’s eyes pleaded and searched the young man’s stoic features for any hint to the answer of her almost rhetorical question. And while she wished that her demonstration of pure frustration for the lack of trust…hell… lack of acknowledgment she received from Dutch Van der Linde was nothing more than a ruse or act for her to put on for her new and unsuspecting companions, it was not. Reluctantly, she had spent many a night tossing and turning while her thoughts struggled to comprehend why she felt the way she did.

The man’s aloof behavior towards her caused her to feel…insulted? Like she was not good enough to be within his realm of acknowledgment though he made it very difficult for her to forget that he was always watching her. Even as Dutch Van der Linde sat alone, or with his red haired companion, in his tent away from the bustling activities around his camp—he was still constantly aware of Effie’s location.

Sadly, Charles’ sad eyes could not give her the answer she desired because truthfully— he did not have one. He only knew of what he believed to be a way to help the young woman earn her independence—if not for his own selfish reasons. He grew tired of having to trail her around camp and preferred being on his own to do as he pleased. Within reason of course.

“You haven’t done everything ,” Charles responded. “Dutch…Dutch is a different breed of man compared to others. He doesn’t see chores or shined shoes as loyalty. He is a man that requires substance.”

“Substance?” Effie scoffed, rolling her eyes as far back into her skull as she could.

However, the words Charles spoke were more than Effie had ever heard him speak before and despite the firmness and clarity in which he spoke, if he ever did, at that moment Effie could not understand the meaning intended behind them. She only stared at Charles while her thoughts darted back and forth to try and connect the dots like the puzzles she once enjoyed with Buck on lazy Sunday mornings. Suddenly, her brows furrowed tightly across her forehead.

“I’m not going to fuck him if that’s what you’re implying?” Effie’s words snapped like a serpent's tongue through sharp teeth.

“No no. Not like that.” Charles threw up his hands in defense, and backtracked his own words to try and clear the aura of Miscommunication.  As well as, unfortunately, the rage that now radiated from the woman. “All I’m saying is that you should just go and talk to him. It’s been more than two weeks, and you haven’t said one word to him since he pulled you from the forest. Have you even thanked him?”

Ah. Now she understood.

“Oh…I… I guess I haven’t.” Effie’s harsh voice retreated in defeat back behind their prison of ivory teeth. Charles was, unfortunately, correct In his statement and no matter how much she hated to admit it… Effie could not deny his words.

It was true.

The young woman hadn’t spoken a single word to Dutch Van der Linde, or thanked him, and now it appeared that the reason behind the outlaws lack of trust might have been because of it.

“However, I…. It’s not easy for me to just…talk to him.”

“Why?” Charles cocked his head to the side in confusion, and his own brows furrowed alongside hers. Effie pulled her bottom lip under her teeth and chewed, unable to pull the words from her brain as Charles set a warm hand against her chilled shoulder in a rare attempt to comfort her. “Dutch is just…Dutch. It’s not like he bites.”

Dutch was just Dutch…and he did bite. Not physically…but in other ways.

Dutch Van der Linde was the man who snuffed the very life out of her soul the day Sean was rescued and Buck died from a gunshot wound to his head.  But, Charles did not know that Effie was very much aware of what became of Ike Skelding, nor did he know that she knew he had also taken part in Effie’s lover's death. A fact that she would hardly forget despite her growing friendship with the man. Eventually, he too would feel her wrath. But until then, no one was to know. She made sure to keep it that way until she knew who pulled the trigger.

“It’s a bit more complicated….” Effie admitted half heartedly, though every inch of her being screamed it did not want to.

“Mmm.. I don’t think it is. I think you think it’s more complicated than it is. Look, Just get to know him. You’ll find he’s a lot nicer than he appears.”  Charles smiled slightly, and used his hand to gently guide the young woman back to the trail that led to their home of canvas cots and tents. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was home.

Effie allowed her eyes to fall to her bare and muddy feet, and she sighed.

“I’ll try…”

The first step in her, well Charles’, plan to infiltrate the Van der Linde family was to finally converse with the dark haired bastard about god knows what…

However, to find Dutch Van der Linde alone was not exactly…easy.

The man never left camp due to the obscene bounty on his head, and so, he spent most of his vast amount of free time discussing their next heist with Hosea, philosophizing about ethics with young Lenny, performing long speeches to raise moral, or…unfortunately…canoodling, with little to no regard for the other camp residents, in the delicate arms of the Irish debutant, Molly O’Shea. The latter of which did not appreciate it when Effie, or any of the girls young enough to catch a wandering eye from her lover, came too close to Dutch for her comfort.

The fiery red head never physically threatened Florence, but her burning glares from her throne of canvas created an almost impenetrable shield around the tent she shared with Dutch. Though Molly need not worry, Effie had no qualms with avoiding her territory all together most days. Only catching a passing glance at the enigmatic, yet all knowing, being that was Dutch Van der Linde when she just so happened to  carry buckets of dingy water to and from the various stations around the small campsite. However, It was In those brief and scarce moments in which they locked eyes that they shared an unspoken…something. Something that made Effie’s hair stand on the back of her neck and her mouth feel as though she was chewing cotton.

It was off putting to say the least, and added to Effie’s already unwillingness to interact with the man further. Still, Florence attributed her bazaar reaction down to animalistic instinct…like a horse sensing an impending thunderstorm. The man was indeed dangerous, however, so was Effie. He just did not know it yet.

However, later that evening when Pearson called out to his family for a supper of hodgepodge stew,  Effie decided that Molly would just have to shove it wherever she saw fit.  Her freedom and right to privacy rode on it, god be damned!

Grace Dryden, her mother, always said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach and Effie was about to put that wretched woman’s words to the test by loading two bowls full to the brim of the mystery meat stew.

One for her, and one for Dutch—- A peace offering, so to speak.

After she was satisfied with how much food Dutch would be pleased to receive, Effie allowed her gaze to survey her surroundings, All the while giving a weak smile to those who she just so happened to lock eyes with along the way. But, none of which belonged to the feral redhead. By pure luck, or perhaps divine intervention, Molly was away on a trip to Valentine with Hosea in hopes to pick up a tin of rouge for her lips.

“I guess this is it…” Effie mumbled to herself from under her breath before she took in the chilled evening air deep within her anxious core. After slowly emptying her lungs, she made her way across camp to greet Dutch.

The man in question sat on the small wooden stool outside his tent where he often enjoyed spending most of his evenings reading before supper. Bent over, with his arms resting heavily on his thighs, and fully engrossed in a thick novel he held tightly in his grasp. This particular night was no different, and he did not appear to hear Pearsons call for fresh food a moment earlier.

This was indeed her chance to finally have a moment alone with her target.

Unfortunately, each step closer to where Dutch was caused the anxiety of Florence’s heart to pound faster, and her mouth was once again as dry as the Mojave desert. Luckily for her, Dutch did not seem to notice the way her steps faltered or her breaths grew shallow. He only continued to peruse the mysterious contents within his book with an intense expression across his features.

Effie knew without having to see the label of the cigar he held tight between his lips that the brand was imported from Guarma. It just so happened to be the same brand Buck used to enjoy…and for a moment…the smell made her feel like he was present. However, she knew better than to allow herself to get caught up in useless feelings. There was no time to mourn, and she needed to keep her head focused and clear on her prey at hand.

So, As she approached his unfamiliar territory, with the melodic sounds of Carmen in the background, both hands full with the peace offering of sustenance—- Effie made an effort to cock her head to get a better look at the title that was slightly obscured by the man’s large hands. Hands that had seen many years worth of hard work …and death.

The binding of the large, green novel was worn which indicated more than a few years worth of reads. Effie hoped that the book was something she was familiar with, at least if it was, they could have something to break the ice with. Unfortunately, the title was not one she had read before.

“ The American Inferno.. ?” Effie repeated. She mouthed the title softly to herself, not noticing that the outlaw's dark eyes had already left their place amongst the page he had been reading to instead read her own face of the peculiar expression she wore. At that moment, her brows were tightly furrowed and her lips a thin line. She must have looked angry. Just like Charles, Effie was not blessed with a face that looked approachable.

“...By Evelyn Miller.” Dutch responded cooly, but not entirely coldly, as he gently closed the book without marking the page. As an avid reader herself, the unspeakable sin of closing one’s book on an unmarked page caused Effie anxiety, and regardless of who held that book, this was no different.  Dutch set the novel to his side, and straightened his posture to greet the young woman.

Understandably, the outlaw seemed a bit confused as to why the young woman had decided to approach him now after such a long time living amongst his people…his family.

“What can I do for you, Miss Beasley?”

Beasley .

Effie had almost forgotten that the name she chose as hers was Bucks. Most everyone in the camp either called her Florence, save for Hosea who had taken a liking to her preferred nickname of Effie, but Dutch had yet to call on her and it appeared that now he had chosen to keep things rather professional. At an Arm's length, just as he had instructed the others. It was refreshing to see he did not see himself above his own rules.

“Aren't you worried you’ll forget what page you're on?” Effie exclaimed, fully preoccupied with her own anxiety to consider how she would introduce herself. The introduction she had rehearsed was long gone from the forefront of her mind, but Dutch only raised a brow as a slight chuckle escaped from his lips. He took a drag of his cigar, and intertwined his fingers.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” Dutch began, releasing the flavorful aroma from his mouth like a Smouldering fire. Effie inhaled, and savored it. “I’ve read this book so many times—- I’ve practically memorized every page. Trust me, I know exactly where I left off. Even blind I would know.”

“I see,” Effie exhaled the breath she did not realize she had been holding, and relaxed her shoulders. Dutch allowed a smirk to pull at the corner of his mouth and snuffed the life of the cigar on the ashtray he kept near.

The man smiled at her. Effie’s mind went blank.

After a few moments of drawn out silence passed between them, the outlaw cleared his throat which brought attention to the painfully awkward fact that Florence stood unmoving, like a Grecian statue, without so much as a word.

Effie felt like a goddamned idiot. Fuck. She had forgotten what she was doing.

“... I Had thought…”

“Speak up, my dear. Unfortunately, despite my young age of 45, my hearing isn’t the best thanks to the gun I have strapped to my hip.”Dutch chuckled, his voice smooth like molasses. He adjusted his posture to expose the shiny pistol he kept loaded at all times against his hip. But, Despite her best efforts, Effie’s voice began to weaken under the vast amount of pressure his intense gaze happened to place upon her at that very moment. Whether or not it was his intention.

Effie slightly shook her head free from his hypnotic stare, and cleared her throat while a trembling hand extended one of the bowls towards her new leader.  She too allowed a slight smile to tug at the corner of her lips and Dutch, now fully perplexed by the woman’s odd behavior, observed the bowl with a blank expression before his eyes returned their gaze to her face.

“I…I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at this sort of thing. And I…I figured it was about time that I thanked you..for everything.” Effie swallowed the lump in her throat and waited. After a pause she asked, "Do you… mind if I join you?”

The man hesitated, and the amount of time that passed in deafening silence between them felt painfully slow as he contemplated her words. His brows were raised in surprise, or amusement, she could not tell. Still, he did not attempt to move, and kept his fingers intertwined as he looked her up and down..searching for the motive behind her sudden interest in thanking him.

Dutch did not need to say anything for the both of them to know exactly how important these next course of actions between them were to be. That very moment they shared was the one that would solidify if Florence Barlowe, er Beasley, would officially become a member of the Van der Linde family… or find herself exiled.

Finally, Dutch cleared the thick air of anticipation with a hearty, and deep, chuckle as an extended hand graciously received the peace offering. Effie released the breath she had held in wait, and smiled as he freed her tight grip on the bowl of stew. The whole situation felt more like a negotiation between two powerful countries at war with one another, and for now, a temporary peace treaty was on the table.

“Sure. If that’s what you’d like. I would not mind the company.” Dutch was a gentleman indeed, and quickly offered his own seat to the young woman while simultaneously removing a few novels and papers from a matching stool next to his. Effie opened her mouth to protest, but he waved his hand to silence her and sat down before she could say anything. “Please, sit, Miss Beasley I—.”

“—Effie.” Florence responded quickly, resting fully into the residual warmth left from the man’s body. With her stew set gently within her lap, she began to paw at its contents. Even though she loved her deceased lover's surname, often dreaming of the day it would become her own, she could not hold back the claws of grief that begged to rip the thin threads that held her shattered heart intact apart each time the name left Dutch’s lips. It was still too soon. Dutch hesitated, unsure…but ultimately his smile returned without so much of a question to the sudden change of tone in his guest's voice. Effie reiterated, “Please, call me Effie.”

“A’ course.” Dutch agreed with a subtle nod of acknowledgment as he pulled his seat closer and across from the young woman. He understood when and where to pry, and this was not one of them. Once the two were comfortable in their almost comically small seats, they began to enjoy their dinner together.

The first few bites were in silence as neither one knew exactly how to start a conversation, but after a few more moments of awkwardness, Dutch made the first move and spoke again utilizing the only thing he knew about her: her name.

“Florence. I haven’t met many with that name in my travels.” The man repeated her name softly to himself as if it belonged to an ancient or foreign language that had yet to be discovered by man. Never had she heard her name sound so…poetic.

Honestly, It made her uncomfortable.

“Such a pretty name. Why go by Effie?” Dutch cocked his head to the side, waiting for her response.

“Pretty? Hardly…But, I thank you, “ Effie let out a chuckle, and shook her head in disagreement…or disbelief. She could not tell. “I’ve never really cared for it. I’ve always thought it to be too long, and I hated how much room it would take on my lesson papers. I always ended up writing it down the side…which my governess hated with passion. She’d smack my hands with a ruler until I finally memorized how much room I needed for my name, but by then I started going by Effie to save myself from unnecessary pain. It’s hard to misspell or take up too much room with Effie.”

“Really now?” Dutch raised a brow in amusement. “I’d be happy to have a name after the Italian epicenter of renaissance art and architecture.”

“I would too, but my father named me after a race horse he owned back before the war. At least, I think.” Effie took a few bites of her meal, and savored the flavor to try and cleanse her palate of the awful taste her fathers memory left in her mouth. Her brows furrowed, but Dutch only smiled. Even Pearson’s bland stew tasted better than her fathers name on her palate.  Elijah Dryden.

“I take it you two didn’t get along?” Dutch asked, setting his empty tin on the grass below. Suddenly, Effie felt embarrassed that she was such a slow eater and couldn’t recall when he had managed to finish before her.

“We did not.” Effie sighed, quickening her pace to not keep the man waiting. However, Dutch lifted a hand to indicate that he did not mind it. After all, this was more that he had ever interacted with the woman of the woods, and he was interested in knowing more about her.  “He and I had conflicting opinions on topics I viewed as non negotiable in my life.”

“Like what?” Dutch rested his arms on his thighs, and leaned slightly closer. His gaze never once broke hers, and that familiar shiver ran up her spine. Was she sharing too much? Effie shrugged her shoulders, and sighed once again to calm her nerves.

“The type of men you fancy ?” The man’s tone was playful, almost condescending, but she ignored it. Dutch Van der Linde was teasing her, but Effie would not give in to playful banter as easily as he hoped.

“Ha, unfortunately, no.” Effie scraped the residue of stew that held tight against her tin bowl, and finished her meal with one last bite. However, Dutch made no indication for their conversation to end. “While I won’t lie that we did disagree on men, our many many many heated arguments mostly revolved around politics.”

“ Politics ?” Dutch scoffed in disbelief, though the word seemed to peak the outlaws' interest even more. The brows of Effie’s forehead furrowed almost unconsciously.

During her time amongst the gang, Effie had not indicated to anyone in the camp that she was a learned woman thanks to her fathers vast amount of money and status as a Confederate Lt. Colonel.  Even after the war, her family managed to secure and maintain their wealth through real estate, tobacco, and coal mine investments throughout Appalachia where the southern values her father maintained were still alive and well despite the government stating otherwise.  Though the latter was only acquired through her marriage to Clifford Barlowe ten years prior.

Honestly, there really wasn’t any particular reason for her to divulge her complicated past of a fallen debutante turned addict then bounty hunting mogul now outlaw. Besides her desire to keep that part safely hidden away so as to not threaten her life or plan of cold revenge against Dutch Van der Linde—- Politics did not play into how well she could scrub a stain out of a blouse, or how many sticks she could gather in one trip.

As well, she hated thinking about her family in general, and spent many long years trying to forget they even existed. One by one they had died out. Unfortunately the family’s downfall started with her younger sister Francis, then her father, then her mother… until all that was left was her older Brother, Cecil Dryden, who was living somewhere between Saint Dennis and Rhodes where he maintained the family fortune and lived in luxury. Last they spoke, he was going to marry a woman from a wealthy plantation family in Rhodes, but she didn’t bother to show up to his wedding. Granted, she was too drunk to remember the date at that time.

Still, by the way Dutch’s dark features seemed to brighten up at the very word ‘ Politics’ , Effie couldn’t help but feel that the man had to have been giddy over yet another poor soul he could hold hostage in his many… many philosophical debates. By now, Dutch must have tired poor Lenny out with the same conversations over and over. Especially since the former was currently locked in a gilded cage of his own making, unable to scratch the gnawing itch to spread his wings. However, Dutch must have realized he had insulted the woman, and quickly ate his words.  

“Please, I meant no offense. Only…I did not take you to be… interested in frivolous topics such as the politics of man. With you being a performer and all.”

“No offense taken.” Effie lied, though her smile faltered slightly. However, she composed herself and kept her cool. Unfortunately, there was a lot of offense taken for she knew what Dutch really meant to say was,

‘with you being a woman and all’.  

However, there was no point in petty arguments over whether or not someone looked interested in politics based on their gender. As well, Effie had this very conversation with her father…and Cliff…too many times for her to count. She was tired of having to fight it.

“What did you two disagree on, if I may be so bold to ask?” Dutch asked in earnest.

“Mostly about how the country is run.” Effie set her tin bowl on the grass next to the one left by Dutch, and stretched her back to relieve the ache she had acquired from her hunched position. For a split second, she thought she saw Dutch’s eyes wander to her chest, but she could not be certain.

Ugh, men.

“I see.” Dutch cleared his throat and smiled. He too mimicked her posture, and sat up straighter. “Absolutely terrible, isn’t it?”

“Dreadful, really.” Effie agreed, and could say it wholeheartedly. If there was one thing that she could agree with Dutch Van der Linde, it was that the country was going to shit.

Suddenly, Dutch reached for the book he had been reading prior to their conversation of names and now politics, flipping the pages quickly until he was satisfied. He held the book out for Effie to read and take hold of his precious item.

“I think you’d like this.”

Effie hesitated slightly, watching and observing the man’s face for any ill will or ulterior motives; she found none. A gesture from one lover of politics to another, and Effie graciously took it. Dutch lit his cigar once again, and watched with anticipation as Effie’s own eyes scanned the page he had chosen. She read the passage aloud.

“ ‘Men are fixated on greed, on desire, and on the acquisition not of experiences or pleasures but the ability to acquire. People are fixated on wealth. Man is reduced to the desire for desire. Wanting is all that matters. Not loving, not being, not having, but wanting. We are killers for desire. Even sport would be preferable. This is the grand sickness, the eternal sickness of this land - it is, man unleashed. Man unleashed and turned into, he knows not what? ’” She found the author's words rather confusing, but regardless she understood the message intended. Dutch noticed the look she struggled to hide, and took a drag of his cigar.

Such a lovely smell…

“Do you not agree that man’s downfall is a result of greed, Miss Bea— Effie?” Dutch questioned. He had not expected her to disagree with something he felt was common knowledge and very difficult to disagree with.

“No no! It’s not that I do not agree as I very much do,” Effie continued to peruse the pages that were well worn and well lived by the meticulous fingers of Dutch Van der Linde. “…just not fully with Mr. Miller's interpretation.”

“How so?” Dutch crossed an arm across his chest, the puffing of his cigar grew more and more rapid between each drag as he waited eagerly for Effie’s explanation.

“Well,” She began, lightly closing the book and holding it tightly against her chest. An unconscious habit she had with any and all books she read. Dutch eyed her, but not with suspicion. Something else she could not place. She continued,

“While I do agree with Mr. Miller that the greed of mankind has, time and time again without fail, tarnished the reputation of humans regardless of where we have traveled. Often, like he stated, ruining our lands with factories, polluting our water with oil, and the overall disregard towards what it truly means to be appreciative of the earth we live on,”

Effie was so caught up in her thoughts that she had not noticed the voluptuous figure of Miss Molly O’Shea as she hastily approached her invaded territory of Dutch’s tent with Hosea in tow. Honestly, Had Effie even noticed, she would not have been able to say just how long the young woman stood silently with a scowl, and with a smoldering cigarette, in hand. However, To the surprise of both Molly and Hosea, Dutch did not notice the redhead as well. That was unlike him.

“…I don't think greed is going to be the thing that ultimately causes our inevitable demise.” Effie stated. Dutch adjusted in his seat like a child awaiting the most important part of the picture shows that played in Valentine. But regardless of his anticipation, he listened. Along with Hosea who had pulled a chair alongside his long term companion to be a part of the interesting conversation between Dutch and the woman of the woods.

“If not greed, then what?” He asked, not realizing his cigar had reached the point past life. Effie shrugged her shoulders ,and in one gentle motion, returned the novel back to its keeper.

“Ignorance.”

“ Ignorance? ” Dutch repeated, his hand rubbed his brow as if he had never considered the topic of ignorance before. “I’m very interested to hear how so? I’d personally agree with Mr. Miller that greed highly outweighs ignorance in most things. After all, in order to have power one would need money. Money, unfortunately , seems to follow those who possess a sort of—cunningness. I don’t see those in power are necessarily —“

“—but you’d say they were ignorant, right?”

Dutch stopped and the words that he had planned to release were no more. Effies eyes held the man within an unbreakable bond, and the world felt as if it was just the two of them. She continued, and Dutch listened intently.

“Ignorance is not bliss as one would think, Mr. Van der Linde. Ignorance in itself is not always a bad thing—It only means that whoever is perceived to be ignorant has not had the opportunity to learn and grow from past mistakes that they can then use to do better for their community and themselves. However, it is those that choose to remain ignorant in the face of learning, knowing full and well what is best for others, who will be our downfall.”

Dutch’s mouth hung open slightly, as if he was going to say something. However, no words exited and Effie took the opportunity to elaborate. Molly stood behind her with her hands placed on top of her hips and an aggrieved expression of both jealousy and confusion.

“What I mean is—for example, one could say that racism comes from ignorance, correct? The lack of knowledge for another being's culture causes fear amongst those who fall ignorant to the unknown, but when faced with the opportunity to learn about the people we have deemed to be less than, those that choose to remain ignorant by avoidance do nothing but perpetuate fear and hatred towards others. Had they learned, racism would not exist.

The same could be said about starvation which comes from an ignorance towards the ways in which we must utilize our resources to produce enough food for ourselves to survive, but to also help those who can not help themselves due to illness, disability, or poverty. However, those who choose to turn away and continue to be ignorant to the suffering of others only to hoard their food like dragons atop a mound of gold only lead to the deaths of innocent people.

And to bring the conversation back what Mr Miller said—the lack of understanding, or ignorance, that cutting down trees, polluting our water, and killing one another out of greed will only hurt us in the end— I'd say the reason for our suffering isn’t because of greed itself. Instead, we can thank those who choose to remain ignorant to the damage they cause at the expense of others all for the sake of greed. They ignore the signs and cries from those who know better, and in turn are the ones who cause mankind to suffer.  And ultimately parish in a land of rot and ruin.

You see, Dutch? Mr. Miller is not wrong to say greed fuels the heart, but the root cause of that greed is ignorance.”

Dutchs eyes flicked over the young woman’s features as she eagerly awaited for his own response to her version of mankind’s downfall. However, Dutch was silent and his expression blank…and suddenly, Effie feared she had just ruined her chances for the leader’s approval due to her own passionate ranting.

“I-I’m sorry. I just get so wrapped up in these sorts of conversations. I don’t mean to offend.” Effie laughed nervously, her hand tightly gripped the fabric of her skirt.

“No, my dear, don’t be sorry. To see you so passionate is…refreshing. And, For once in my life, I have been left truthfully speechless.” Dutch’s voice was something good and tender, and for a moment Effie had practically forgotten that she would ultimately kill the man who, at that moment, reached to rest his palm over her own. The texture was rough, but pleasantly warm, against hers. Effie felt that strange tingle on the back of her neck, but this time, she was not afraid. She was…something else.

Suddenly, Hosea lit a cigarette and the slight cough that escaped his lungs brought the duo back into their unfortunate reality of lawlessness and suffering. Dutch adjusted in his chair, and removed his hand from Effie. She cleared her throat and rose from her station, embarrassed at the color that began to rush to her cheeks. As she turned the opposite direction, she was met with an upset Miss O’Shea.

“I-I’m sorry.” Effie mumbled as she walked past the Irish beauty who made sure to clip the young woman’s shoulder on her way out.

Hosea laughed slightly, and rested his hand and weight against Dutch’s broad shoulder. The outlaw only shrugged with exasperation, knowing full and well that his night was to be filled with melodic highs and lows of harsh words from an aggrieved miss Molly. Still, the smile that grew wide across his chiseled face would not be so easily erased.

“Hosea,” Dutch began, rising from his stool to pat his trousers free of any debris. Hosea eagerly listened as he watched the strange woman retreat to her cot near the grazing horses.

“Yes, Dutch?” Hosea responded, pulling a drag of flavorful ash into his lungs.

“Find Ms. Beasley a tent. A proper one

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 Dutch x original character #rdr2 dutch