#famderlinde

[moonah-rose]

Hosea: I love those kids but they sure do ask a lot of questions!

Hosea: "Where's our next camp?" "What's for dinner?" "When we going robbing?" "Where's my fishing rod?" "Where's my journal?" "Where's my dominoes?" "Where's my gun?" "Where's my hat?"

Dutch: I know exactly what you mean.

Hosea: Oh yeah, what do they ask you?

Dutch: "Where's Hosea?"

#incorrect rdr2 quotes #rdr2 #vandermattews #famderlinde #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #john marston #tilly jackson

[wilchur]

I know truly wholesome famderlinde is really not that canonically accurate, but my god is that my biggest indulgence. Give me Good Dad Hosea Matthews AND Good Dad Dutch Van Der Linde, I will eat that shit up!! I want them to be gay and in love, raising one unruly child after another till the end of times. Canon who?? Get outta here.

#rdr2 #vandermatthews #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde

[stillwaterkatchem]

Okay, very sorry about the fact it's photos of my tablet I can't transfer em. But I won't bombard you with anymore of my bad fanart.😂

#art #fanart #fam-der-linde #very sorry about bombarding you. #all the credit goes to famderlinde cause thats where the ideas came from.

[shyeehaw]

Children of this Land: Ashes to Bone

Supernatural AU - Chapter I

I would like to thank @shethenightwolf , @famderlinde , @kaziklubaby  and @crabby-abby for bearing with me and helping me with my first long fic, hope yall like it <3

This is the story of your birth, my son. It’s an adventurous one, filled with love, but also great sadness and loss. It speaks to us as well, children of this land. We know no home, and neither do you. The same land that created us now is doing the hunt.

The wooden wheels were rolling, and that hellish sound kept screeching on their ears, a sound so cruel that reminds them why they are moving in the first place. A feud as old as time, ignited by the most primordial motive: food. Then, finally, a dead man lying on the road.

When on the run, there’s no time to feed, as fugitives don’t get any rest. Time unfolded as a yarn, and Hosea’s eyes were kept glued to the small portrait in his hands. They had infuriated too many people, both gangs and law. Still, the strong scent of the corpse got them jumping out of the wagon, facing its empty eyes. Dutch approached the dead man, assaying the state of his own skin over the new one. Fresher, better. A grip around his wrist and a screech of the harpy’s throat; That’s how they knew it was an illusion, a trick. There weren’t enough roads to put distance between the Driscoll's and the Van Der Linde gang. And now, as the evening shadows and he sits on his ragged tent, Dutch watches his sons as they heal, with growing hunger.

The flames licked Abigail’s legs, and still, she wouldn’t wish to be anywhere but there. It was a flesh-eating blaze consuming her feet, her core. Yet, the only hurtful sting was their piercing gaze. Her agonized figure was a reason to cheer, to chant, around her, hearts full of hate gleamed like burning coal. Their indifference allowed her to once more, feel the depths of cruelty. What they couldn't wrap their minds around was judged, and tonight, Abigail was the defendant.

She wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t give them that satisfaction, raising her chin up, Abigail breathed the smoke two or three times, the crescent moon as her single witness.

“We are gathered here tonight to send this whore back to her Master’s arms”, said the Cleric, holding a cross against her direction, “Begone, foul creature! Leave us, good people, free of your bewitched venomous words.”

The crowd cheered, oblivious to the ferocity of the fire, as she was reminded, once again, of how she was used, tricked. It was a savage world, and still, Abigail was no more inhuman than those who smiled upon her burning body.

“See! She won’t even deny it! Promiscuous! Sorcerer!”, those were the words used by simple-minded men to describe women who owned themselves, who dared to be free, only to have their freedom sworded by their hypocrisy. Speaking softly to the flames, she asked them to be done, to consume her. Ash and bones. Rolling her head back, and her eyes even further, Abigail chanted a last time, the old forgotten words folding her tongue in a familiar way, praying to whichever God birthed her to claim her soul. She embraced her fiery fate.

Red, carmine -  the vivid colors flashed through their collective mind. John was the first, howling at his packmate to stop, something wrong in those woods.

“What are you fools stopping for?”, Bill stomped his hoof, “Dutch is waiting on us!”

With a growling sound, Arthur followed John, his bent legs opening way between the dense forest.

“Ahh shit!”, Bill turned around, chasing the two immense shadows by the night. A smoke scent filling their lungs.

It was a sorry scene, indeed. Those creatures, those humans, once again burning what they couldn’t understand. Out of sight, out of mind.  How long until is us burning, John? the thought invaded his mind as if was his own. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, spreading quickly, bristling his fur. John jumped at the nearest peasant, munching on his torso, breaking bones.

“You goddamn idiot!”, Bill was furious, his horns now glazed on dripping blood, making his way through the crowd. And how they screamed, running in circles only to meet Arthur’s massive open jaw. Marston, you idiot! Dutch will geld us, those intrusive thoughts were buried under his primal goal, an instinct hard to refuse.

Fire shook his claw-hand as an agreement, John Marston slashed the ropes, freeing the witch’s body from the stake. She was alive, breathing. Barely.

Retreating to the camp, John was the one carrying the sorceress’s burnt body, his nose flaring to the smell. We should hurry, those Driscoll demons are still after us, he looked at his brother -  blood on his fur from the confront, humans and their damned guns, their own way to feel powerful. The night was as silent as death, just the sound of crickets guiding the weird party home.

“Absolutely not!”, Dutch said taking a single look at the wounded girl, “As far as we know humans are burning their own under the accusation of witchcraft. No!”. He left the tent in a hurry, only to stumble upon Hosea, who seemed very much concerned.

“What’s going on here, Dutch?”, He peeked through the open tent flaps, where Ms. Grimshaw avidly worked, the girl seemed like a rag doll compared to how big and feathery Ms. Grimshaw was.

“Is she a witch?”, Hosea asked.

“We reckon”, said Arthur, his beastly shape now a bit more under control.

“Dutch, we can’t just send her away! Are you so caught up with Colm and his demon hierarchy that you missed the news?”, Hosea looked at Ms. Grimshaw, as asking for her to back up his stories, “Night folk are gone!”

“They had it coming for them, going around attacking people.”

“And how do we feed again? We need to eat, and soon! Or we ain’t healing.”, Hosea crouched beside the girl, placing his hand with a cautious gesture on her forehead, “Saint Denis is just about the same, vampires being hunted down. Towns are being watched day and night, Dutch!”

“That’s exactly why I say to take no more folk, we have bad as it is!”

The gang was already used to seeing the pair arguing like this, Strauss was barely lifting his milky white eyes from his newspaper, watching their discussion with a detached interest.

“Alright Hosea! we’ll have her if she pulls her weight! And if she’s not some human mistook for one of us.”, he said putting a saddle on The Count, “Now, we need to tend to the urgent matters, these wounds! Strawberry?”

The face of his partner turned blank by the absurd proposition.

“Jenny, Mac, Davey… I miss them too, you know? They were fine people. But we can’t go looking for revenge, Dutch, Colm’s army is growing as we speak, I thought we was going to lie low”, Hosea said, placing his hand on Dutch’s shoulder, “I would rather we go to Valentine.”

His dark eyebrows furrowed, that livestock town was like going back to his origins, feeding on farmers and travelers. Still vexed, he nodded just to humor his partner, like he did so many times.

An eternal life granted them a non-verbal communication, much like John’s and Arthur. More than that, they merged into one. Hosea became more ambitious and lively, Dutch learned to consider risks, put others needs along his own. What one did the other was there to complement, like a synchronized dance, opposites, but working together. And how far they came, finding friends along the way, watching them turn into family.

As Ms. Grimshaw and Strauss helped them packing things to get to town, John stood still beside the girl, wondering what was her name, and if it was possible from the top of her slumber, to have cast a spell on him. People would soon start wondering why he wasn’t back to his original form, since there was no longer danger around. But the fear that was haunting him had nothing to do with something that could be fought using his teeth.

“Mister? What is you called?”, a crooked lady asked Dutch.

She was the only one still wandering through those muddy streets, stopping right on her tracks when she saw the man’s face. A frightful sight, they must have been. In a group of four, they walked in pairs, the wolves behind, as shadows enlarging the danger on the careless steps of the first two, who walked sure that nothing there could kill them. Except for each other.

“Aiden O'Malley is the name, my lady”, he said with a flourish, old ways never really died. Hosea glared, doubtful, at his partner.

“I’ve seen you before… but no, not with that name, I would recall.”, said the crone, her white tuft of hair escaping from the scarf. She looked so old her memory was doing a favor by still working.

“You must have mistaken me for someone else ‘mam, excuse me.”, a collective sigh and the group left, entering the dim-lighted alley on the right.

With a single gloved hand, Dutch raised the glass window, leaving enough space for him and Hosea to slither in the warm home. Gesturing for the boys to stay behind, they began their millenary ritual, plucking breaths as fruits from a tree. Glowing yellow eyes and fluid movements would never be seen by those who quietly slept. And if they were… their skin would become his.

But Hosea never liked that, the ugly crawling feeling he got when harvesting an innocent skin, no. He and then, Dutch pledged to only take the skin of those who had not done it right.

Still insatiable, drinking the slumbered breath, they heard footsteps. It was not unusual to find a restless human walking around their houses, but sharing a concerned look, the pair hid, mixing their silhouettes with the shadows.

“Who's there? Face me, ya cowards!”, the high-pitched voice floated across the room - disembodied.

With caution, Dutch draw his gun, human or not, a bullet would always slow it down. And the trigger was almost pulled when an almost toothless smile greeted him. And then headbutted him to the floor.

Gliding across the room, Hosea placed his barrel against the thing’s head.

“Easy boy! We are the same as you.”, he spoke slowly, trying to hold the creature still.

“Oh no, that’s my way of saying hello! Hello there!”, he pushed Hosea. And in a blink of an eye, the trickster vanished, leaving both men looking around, in a neurotic state. “Now ya see me!”, he resurged sitting on a chair, “Now ya don’t!”

“Alright! We are leaving!”, Hosea declared, having his sentence finished by Dutch, “We didn’t know this house was guarded…”

“Guarded? eh, not really. Folk here give me only musty bread and milk, that’s nothing if they want to count on me mighty protection.”, the red-head swung his legs from the bed, getting up on a jump, “ Give me beer, whiskey, would’ya? Back in Ireland, I was a fucking king! Know what? Eat them, I don’t care”, he spoke too fast, leaving Hosea’s ears buzzing.

“Ireland? So what are you? Leprechaun…?”, he asked, making his way to the door.

“Pff, ya american creatures! I’m irish so I can only be those fools? Nah, I’m a Clurichaun! Related to those famous bastards, yeah, but way better.”, he said, stuffing his chest as he followed them around.

“Alright, nice to meet you, mister. Goodbye now.”, Dutch said, meeting the inquisitive eyes of John and Arthur.

“I’m Sean!”, he said shaking their furry hands, unbothered, “Say, can I join ya fine fellers? It’s awful boring in that old house.”

Dutch was about to protest, but it took just Hosea dismissive gesture for him to not be bothered, for what he saw of Sean, he had the attention span of a puppy, and would be soon off their hair.

“Great, so as I was saying…”

With their ears filled by the heavy accent, in the length of one street, the gang learned all fae hierarchy, their taste for music and booze. When Arthur could swear his arms were going through the transition just to grab the boy’s neck, they stopped.

“Alright boys, keep your eyes open. Dutch and I are coming in.”

It’s hard to draw a clear distinction between good and bad, with that thought in mind, Hosea signaled to his sons to get working on the jail’s door. Arthur slashed the fragile doorknob, his paws kicking it open, their jaws clenching to the sound. The wolves and Clurichaun kept their guard outside the door, as the couple entered, greeted by moldy walls that held a quiet interior, where all prisoners snored just as much as the deputy on charge. All but one.

“Ay! What’s going on”, a whisper was heard, “Mary-Beth! Wake up!”

Dutch quickly found the source of it. The murmuring pair was sitting at the cold tile floor, ash crosses draw on their foreheads. His eyes lingered a bit on the man’s tied burnt hands. Sharing a look, Hosea and Dutch understood what that meant.

“If I were you, I would look away.”, Dutch said, much to Hosea’s displease.

“No need, sir. We both seen things that would shock you.”

“That I doubt very much.”

Squeezing through the bars, Dutch crouched on the asleep prisoner's chest, his long fingernail slicing the flesh, separating muscle from skin. He did that with precision, with a bored look of who committed this atrocity thousands of times, like he needed it to survive.

“Sir, you seem kind enough. Would you help us getting out of here?”, the soft voice of the girl pleaded to Hosea, “They… burned my tent, and I might be next.”

Ignoring the conversation, Dutch kept slicing.

“I…Of course, my dear”, he glanced at his partner whose frown was getting worse by the moment, “John, Arthur get over here and open this cell would you?”

Struggling but a moment with the lock, the two were free, rubbing the crosses off their heads.

“And then what Hosea? Are we keeping two more mouths to feed? We don’t even know if they are like us!”, Dutch was no longer keeping his voice low, which made Sean fidget with anticipation of that deputy’s sleep being interrupted.

“They clearly are! Look at their markings!”, his voice was firm, “We can’t leave them behi-”

The words were concealed under a freezing scream, one so excruciating and cold that sent shivers down their spines. Dutch’s sloppy movements as he argued caused the man to keep screaming, his skin being ripped off. It was like watching a stagecoach crash, in slow motion but yet unable to stop it.

An iron net, and guns. Hosea’s liquid fear, filling his eyes like never before, unable to move. Among the warning bell sound of the town, he searched for the portrait that he could swear it was on his pocket. He had but a moment to undo that, and failing to find it there was nothing left but to say goodbye.

But not Dutch, his nails went through the throat of the closest policeman, as his sons fought against the others. The girl, Mary-Beth, was unlocking a chest, weirdly enough grabbing a guitar and untying the hands of the man with her.

“There’s no point, my dear…”, Hosea talked above the confusion, “Take them and go, please. Do this, for me.”

With a second chime from the bell, Valentine was filled with it’s citizens. An angry mob following them, There wasn’t enough time for goodbyes. Fugitives don’t get to say “I love you” back. Their furious steps cracked the glass of the picture, Dutch’s smile immortalized beside a beautiful lady.

“I told you I knew you, mister.”, the crone said, accompanied by his old friend. His red mustache and unmistakable black hat. On top of that, the fiery sword embroidery stitched on his cassock.

“Hello, Dutch.”

#dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #javier escuella #mary beth gaskill #bill williamson #sean macguire #john marston #susan grimshaw #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #rdr2 AU #long reads #alternate universe #rdr2 fanfic #abigail marston #abigail roberts #john marston x abigail marston #dutch x hosea #dutch van der linde x hosea matthews

[splat-dragon]

Red Dead Redemption 2 Characters: as Pokemon version 1

Please note: these were chosen due to the Pokedex entry. Shortly I will be posting a similar post where I pick based on the Pokemon lore, or appearance, or another reason which I will explain.

Dutch van Der Linde

"Honchkrow, the Big Boss Pokemon. It is merciless by nature. It is said that it never forgives the mistakes of its Murkrow followers."

Hosea Matthews

"Drampa, the Placid Pokemon. It has a compassionate personality, but if it is angered, it completely destroys its surroundings with its intense breath."

Arthur Morgan

"Lycanroc, the Wolf Pokemon. When properly raised from a young age, it will become a trustworthy partner that will absolutely never betray its Trainer."

Uncle

"Nosepass, the Compass Pokemon. Nosepass had been said to be completely unmoving, with its magnetic nose pointed due north. However, close observation has revealed that the Pokémon actually moves by a little over 3/8 of an inch every year."

Bill Williamson

"Snorlax, the Sleeping Pokemon. It is not satisfied unless it eats over 880 pounds of food every day. When it is done eating, it goes promptly to sleep."

Sean McGuire**

"Granbull, the Fairy Pokemon. It is actually timid and easily spooked. If attacked, it flails about to fend off its attacker."

Kieran Duffy

"Feebas, the Fish Pokemon. Feebas's fins are ragged and tattered from the start of its life. Because of its shoddy appearance, this Pokémon is largely ignored. It is capable of living in both the sea and in rivers."

Micah Bell

"Marshadow, the Gloomdweller Pokemon. It slips into the shadows of others and mimics their powers and movements. As it improves, it becomes stronger than those it's imitating."

Jack Marston

"Togepi, the Spike Ball Pokemon. As its energy, Togepi uses the positive emotions of compassion and pleasure exuded by people and Pokémon. This Pokémon stores up feelings of happiness inside its shell, then shares them with others."

BONUS:

Young! John Marston

"Tyrogue, the Scuffle Pokemon. It is always bursting with energy. To make itself stronger, it keeps on fighting even if it loses."

**big thanks to @famderlinde here! I originally had Granbull marked down for Lenny - unfortunately I do not have a very good grasp on his character, as I have not interacted with him much outside of the bar quest and in camp. In their reblog they mentioned Granbull fit Sean, and I agree a lot! Thanks dude! <3

#splat_dragon #splatdragon #splatdragonff #red dead redemption 2 #hosea matthews #hosea #dutch #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #arthur #bill #bill williamson #john #john marston #pokemon #headcanon #uncle #jack #jack marston #young john marston #young john #kieran #kieran duffy #micah #micah bell #sean macguire #sean

[sadcowboymarthur-rorgan]

Over the past few hours I have asked the serious question of Uncle or Pearson and one time uncle or Seth. Though several people didn't answer, much to my disappointment, but these fine cowfolk did and gave some beautiful answers as well. We also managed to bring awareness to the serious condition that is lumbago. I would like to thank these fine humans (@dutchismyhusband @famderlinde @greasyjohnmarston @jungle @dutchmatthews) for making me laugh the past hour or so.

#bless you all #lumbago #more like lumbaghoes #uncle #mr. pearson #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2

[that-wimpy-cowboy-doll]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill Characters: Kieran Duffy, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones (Red Dead Redemption), Sean MacGuire, Arthur Morgan Additional Tags: Fluff, Walks On The Beach, Mutual Pining, Valentine's Day Prompts, Picnics Series: Part 11 of 2019 Valentine's Date-a-palooza Summary:

Kieran has something for Mary-Beth, and all he asks in return is that she read to him. Karen, Sean, and Arthur, of course, are fascinated to see how events transpire.

For my 2019 Valentine's Date-a-palooza :)

Thanks for requesting @famderlinde :)

#rdr2 #mary beth gaskill #kieran duffy #mary beth x kieran

[arthurmorganthings]

Red Roses.

Pairing: Lenny x Sonia

Summary: Lenny Summers spends Valentines Day with an old fling.

Warning: mentions of sexual content, slut-shaming, mentions of racism/lynching. ANGST.

She’d known he was coming by the context of his letter. His messy manuscript was hard not to miss either, it was so difficult to decipher some of his words but knew just what would get Sonia to capitulate to him all over again.

I’m in Blackwater. Since bad business in the territory of Lemoyne, I had to cut off all contact with you Sonia. Them crackas was gonna have me swing for a justifiable crime—you know better than anybody the law is never in our favor. But I do wish to see you with what time I have left. And so please consider disappearing with me, I don’t wish to have you working saloons anymore. I do however, want to build life with you.

- L.S.

He never did learn to write properly but the simplicity of his letter was enough. Straightening the creases of her skirt, Sonia placed a cigarette to her soft lips. She poised herself diligently near the stair’s banister that led to a game of blackjack upstairs, the other working girls began the day shift in lieu of Sonia.

She waited, keeping men warm in exchange while passing the day. Her heart still so content on seeing an old companion she knew since they were beggars in Lagras.

How she missed being a country girl, in spite of the marsh being humid and full of snakes. Momma did say not to venture out to far, she always did anyways. Lenny was never as daring as she was back then—she missed Lagras.

Here, she has her fair share of racism, however, to most that were passing through from other countries—Sonia was a rare flower ready for spring, and at its peak, is when the flower blooms.

Had she learned the art of opening up, she’d then can agree with the stranger—Sonia was blinded by her own beauty.

Nightfall taints the sky and still no sign of Lenny Summers. Sonia placed herself at the bar, drowning her woes at the bottom of a bottle. Just as she placed another quarter for more alcohol, a calloused palm was placed gingerly onto her’s—his lips grazing the shell of Sonia’s ears, enough to make hairs stand up.

“Since when have you become a drunken fool?”

No doubt in her mind at all, it was him. Still as arrogant since days in the Bayou, she seen right through him, “Since when did outlaws became so confident?” Her response earned her a chuckle. She glanced at him for a moment, noticing the small changes in his vabrato alongside the structure of his jawline. He was on the cusp of becoming a man.

He sat next to Sonia. “Happy Valentine’s day, my beloved.”

How could she forget? Valentine’s Day. Legs pried open by strangers, she began to desensitized herself to it. She sighs, ordering two whiskeys—on the rocks.

“I don’t celebrate shit.”

“So you gone leave a brotha’s bed cold on the only night I get to see you?”

“You so set on thinking I’ll lay you, it’s incessant. You sure becoming a bandit ain’t get to your head?”

Lenny laughs wholeheartedly. “I still see you can’t take satire, as much as what we used to do back in the marsh. It’s insessant.”

Sonia blinked as the barkeep coughs, awkwardly handing Sonia her drinks. She passes a glass, and in tandem they cheer—to the life they lead.

The pungent taste of liquid engrossed in her tongue and throat, Sonia was never one for hard liquor anyways. A beat of silence ensued as Lenny spoke, “You remember the first time, after you came home from Sunday school, you came over to my house a—“

“Lenny.”

“Hold on. Let me finish, you came over, complaining about how God wasn’t white, she was Palestinian.” His laugh was insufferable, causing Sonia to look down so he couldn’t see her blush.

“She wasn’t. God is a woman.”

“Yeah. And I’m the president of the United States.”

“Lenny, you mean to tell me a black man isn’t capable of leadin’ a country?”

Lenny was speechless at the rhetorical question. He gulped down the rest of his drink, pondering. “Maybe when we’re all dead there’ll be a time when we can dream that big. But I can’t see it now Sonia.”

Her gaze softens, a bit disheartened and dejected, “Lenny.” She closes the distance, her forehead touching his as he closes his eyes, “Why you gotta think like that Lenny? Ain’t a damn thing a White man couldn’t be able to do without a black man’s bluprint.”

His lips danced around her neck, softly licking at the nape as Sonia’s hairs stood, “I—I don’t have much to lose anymore. I only ask that you make this Valentine’s Day alive for me.”

“Lenny you know you’re gonna hurt me in the process.”

“You serious Sonia? I’m in love with you.” He looked around to see if others were listening in before his voice dropped a few octaves.

“You’re the mother of my child.”

“You gotta keep remindin’ me of that? He’s MY son too. I was eighteen.”

“How many times I gotta prove to you that I’m a changed man Sonia? I wanna see my son!” His voice projecting causing Sonia to look around embarrassingly.

“You’ll see your son, I just want you to stop. This.” She gestures disgustingly. As if being in a gang projects more about his morality than being a working girl. This fumed Lenny.

He grew quiet, scoffing. He flung a bouquet of roses in front of her, meaning to surprise her, had this went correctly. Lenny stared shamefully, nose flared, “And I guess you made a name for yourself whorin.’ Don’t ever judge what you don’t know, woman.”

He couldn’t look at her anymore, the same woman he’d fell head-over heels with back when she was in rags, he grew to look at with disdain—in the finest clothing. What a waste of a beautiful woman.

He sauntered out of the bar, before mounting his horse he felt a grab onto his arm. He looked over to see Sonia, tears filled to the brim of her eyes. Lenny frowned. “Let me go woman.”

“Please don’t do this Lenny. You know that life ain’t for me.”

“So the life you lead is?” He inquired, still angry. “You know you always was the sortin’ type for smarts. You shoulda’ stayed in school.”

“I want my son with me.” He adds. “I don’t want him being raised by you.”

Sonia’s eyes widened, had he known the weight of his words, had he held a baby for nine months without the help of a man, had he KNOWN.

He’d feel how she felt. “Just a few minutes ago you wanted to be with me. You wanted me to, lay you.”

“That’s before I figured the type of woman you are. You hurt people, but you can’t help it can’t you, Sonia?”

A beat followed, she never meant to hurt anyone. This wasn’t how Valentine’s Day was supposed to end. They both knew it.

Lenny spoke again, “I wanted to make sweet love to you girl, to make you relive feelings I thought you had. I must still be a fool for you.”

She seen it in the way he looked at her, Lenny was done waiting for a woman that had no intentions of being with him. Sonia still remembers the sheets she laid in when it all happened. As he rode off Sonia recalls everything.

Though penniless, Lenny somehow managed, a price on his head, to get them both a room in Rhodes—last Valentine’s Day.

She was a fool for letting him go.

Had only roses taught her the art of opening up, he’d stay.

Maybe.

-

PART 2, MAYBE LOL. THIS IS FOR MY BBY @famderlinde 💗💗💗 HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LOVELY

#lenny summers #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #charles smith #john marston #sadie adler #saint denis #aesthetic #lenny summers x reader #valentines day fic #love #hurt and comfort #angst #smut #love and hurt #unrequited love

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I got tagged by @famderlinde to post my lock screen, home screen, and the last song I listened to!

The lock screen is my nephew, my home screen is a few of my favorite photo ops (JDM, Jason Momoa, Matthew Mercer, and Tom Payne), and of course I was listening to some Stevie Nicks!

Tagging whoever would like to do this!

#about me

[johnmarstonn]

That’s music babe!

Rules: Put your whole music library on shuffle and share the first 10 songs that come up. Then tag 10 people (or as many as you want).

Tagged by @somniar, @johnathot-seed and @arthurmorganismycowdad thanks sweets 💗

Undo - The 1975

Lava lamp - Thundercat

Fallen - Jaden Smith

Can’t get over you - Joji

Love - Kendrick Lamar

Gooey - Glass animals

NFWMB - hozier (this has big Dutch vibes!!)

Seigfried - Frank ocean

Shadows - Childish gambino

Hottie - brockhampton (fun fact, I listened to these for 70 hours last year, 😔🤘)

That’s a really weird group of songs lmaoo, anyway If you don’t like doing these then ignore this 💗 @greasycowboys @ringdangdo @hymnism @famderlinde @gayarthurmorgan @fkingpeggies @suncaprisun @beechershoe @josephsweed @guarma

#i know my music is questionable but atleast it’ll make your music tastes look good 😔✌️ #tag meme

[moonah-rose]

#im still waiting for my application to be adopted to be accepted #rdr2 #hosea matthews #famderlinde #red dead redemption 2

[morlawny]

i was tagged by @famderlinde to do the lock/home screen and last thing you listened to challenge !!

my lock screen is my favorite picture from my wedding (during our first dance ❤), my home screen is the man himself, freddie mercury. and the last thing i was listening to was the no sleep podcast (HIGHLY recommend if you enjoy scary/disturbing stories!!)

i'll go ahead and tag @guarma, @redmodernredemption, @reddeadgarlicbread, @ssupeck21, @james-t-for-tomcat-kirk, and whoever else would like to do it!

#tori speaks #tagged in #challenges

[garyofrivia]

tagged by @famderlinde​ !!! tysm! :D

rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag some blogs!

tagging: @praerie @artisticmorgan @arthurmorganisapisces @arthurcanyeemyhaw @pizzaplanethq @marstonsgirl and whomstever else wants to do it!!!! feel free to ignore me :)))

a - age: 21

b - birthplace: Fairfax, Virginia

c - current time: 8:59pm

d - drink you last had: water m8

e - easiest person to talk to: umm other than myself?????? my mom skjfdsjdnl

f - favourite song: i guess it’s been new slang by the shins for a while now

g - grossest memory: lmao probably getting both type A and B flu at the same time or alternatively it was the time during junior year i laughed at a joke my boyfriend at the time made while i was eating and accidentally spat my food all over him but we wont talk ab that

h - horror yes or horror no: horror SOMETIMES

i - in love: yee yee :)

j - jealous of people: not rly, everyone does their own thing and i try to respect everyone if they’re living their best life ya know, but i have my moments  everyone’s human

l - love at first sight or should i walk by again: walk by again bitch

m - middle name: zoe

n - number of siblings: 2 lil demon brothers

o - one wish: to have stable mental health hahaha but anyways :)

p - person you last called: my mom lul

q - question you’re always asked: “U good?”

r - reading anything right? a mythology book and fanfic lmao

s - song you last sang: the chain by fleetwood mac 

t - time you woke up: 6am yee fuckign haw

u - underwear colour: teal

v - vacation destination: ireland would be cool

w - when was the last time you really laughed?: at this post

y - your favourite food: greek food

z - zodiac: aries

#tagged #thanks again for tagging me ily!!! #feel free to do it if u want :) #or to not do it if you dont want lmao #ask game

[jungle]

I got tagged by @famderlinde and @asorebae to do the photos on your phone that describe you thing. Mines not as funny as every else’s lol 😂

Ummm I tag @morlawny @hoovesmadeofsteel @detownley @songofproserpine and anyone else that wants to do it bc I like looking at them 😀

#personal #tag game #not red dead

[shyeehaw]

Hey could I ask what other rdr blogs you’d recommend or are your favorite? I’m new here and I wanna know some that aren’t big in discourse and are actually active with messages...

Hey friend! Of course ^^ But I’ll probably end up forgetting some of my favorites, so I apologize if I forget someone 3

(In no particular order) - 

@missmollyoshea (the cutie that got me started in all this 💚), @famderlinde (a sweetheart!), @shethenightwolf , @mr-hey-mister, @vanderlindemangofarm, @rad-lionz , @reddeaddenial and @oh-little-liza-jane

#Gi answers #I must be forggeting someone SORRY

[meatcrimes]

tagged for the lock screen and last song game by more people than i can remember

probably tagging everyone back but eh @arthursbitch @farcrying5 @greasyjohnmarston @handsomeronnie @pauljulianbanks @incubusvibes @khllysty @asorebae @famderlinde

#personal