#i fucking love dutch
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DUTCH FUCKING VAN DER LINDE 😩🥵🔥
Caught Dutch giving Hosea this look while he was just simply passing by 😩 this man cannot even go 2 seconds without being so god damn hot 🥵
Anyways if anyone is intrested enjoy some Camp/Dutch ASMR 😋
I wouldn't mind a suck on a bigger cigar he's got packing tho 😏🔥
#rdr2#red dead fandom#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption community#dutchieliciousplans#dutch#dutch van der linde#dutch has a plan#dutchie#dutch x hosea#hosea x dutch#dutch has no business in being that hot 🥵#i fucking love him#i fucking love Dutch#the man with a plan#the mango man
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#hosea matthews#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#i could go into an unhinged rant abt this actuallt i will. fuck u#this started as like a jokey post but like#idk it lead down this whole rabbithole of arthur's emotional maturity#we know john clearly loved hosea but we only ever see arthurs side#and we see how much hoseas mentorship and wit and love influenced arthur#and although he had a similar influence on john and guided his moral compass i think john is much less mature about processing#and understanding his emotions... like he wouldnt have ran away if he had those skills.#and this idea of arthur figuring out that he thinks of dutch and hosea as parents. that its ok to have parental figures#that arent your biological ones and them being there in your life doesnt replace the connection he had with his mother#i just think john would struggle internally with that concept a lot#he wouldnt want to accept that. he is afraid of having a new family.#this boy needs therapy#anyways#my artz#someonewhos smarter than me should write a fic abt that noneed to credit me i just need to see that in the world#if it exists link it to me now i NEED to cry over it
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cannot stop thinking about miscommunication between reader and ghost 🤭
like imagine being such a people pleaser for ghost that he gets mad at you for doing it but doesn’t tell you that he’s mad because he hates seeing you slowly wear out for him 🤭
honey <3 i could kiss ur little brain omg! the way this had me typing non-stop as soon as i got out of class!!! also this hits so hard for me because i am exactly this type of person yikes! and im sorry because i think i kinda derailed this from ur original idea, oops! hope you enjoy anyway <3
there was a nervous out growing in your stomach, something was wrong and you weren’t sure what.
simon’s usually warm demeanor towards you had been replaced by the hardness of his moniker ‘ghost’. he was acting stand offish, barely giving you anything besides one-word answers, and sigh deeply at you when you tried to pry. you suddenly felt sick to your stomach, had you not been so good to simon, perfected yourself to be the very best for him? if he didn't love you, then who ever would?
~
it was unbearably painful to watch you tear yourself to shreds trying to impress simon. he knew how you were, how you wanted so badly to be the best for everyone. but somehow you were never able to just be the best for yourself. over the year that simon has known you, he has watched you hallow out into the shell of the person you once were, or the person you could actually be had you not tried so hard to be his best little lap dog.
there was a war raging in his mind, how could you do this to yourself. strip yourself of the soul that made him fall in love with you, to what? be perfect for a man as defiled and beaten down by life as him.
~
after a dragging day of tedious paperwork and training sessions, simon was more than ready than to sink into your embrace. perhaps cuddle up and rewatch love,actually for the millionth time - a favorite of yours. but when he shed his boots by the door he was confused as you usually would trot down the stairs by now to greet him. maybe you were napping? he called out your name and when was met with resounding silence his heart began to race; had the day finally come? had his gruesome nightmares finally become his reality?
he reached the door to your shared bedroom and frantically threw open the door and his heart plummeted momentarily, until he picked up on the faint sound of your crying behind the bathroom door.
“love? are you okay?” the lights were off and when he tried the doorknob it was locked. what could’ve possibly happened in the hours he was gone to make you lock yourself away from him?
“darlin’ please just open the door, i’m worried ‘bout you,” your boyfriend pleaded sadly.
you let out a shaky huff and managed to unlock the door from where you were crouched down near the vanity. he moved towards you instantly, only able to make out the tear stains on your face and the redness of your eyes from the subtle light pouring in from the bedroom. you turn away from him, feeling unnerved by his concerning gaze.
“please…don’t look at me, just go away,” you mumbled weakly. you hated him seeing you like this: pathetic and emotional. if he gave you just a minute more alone you could compose yourself and go back to being his perfectly poised girlfriend.
“‘m not gonna leave, there’s clearly something’ goin on with you baby.”
the thickness of his accent always strengthens when he’s soft with you as if he’s reaching deep into his soul and pulling from a time when he was sweetest; a young little boy from manchester, accent think and yearning for love. you could feel your throat constricting and your eyes pooling with more fat tears, and suddenly the dam bursts and you wail into his chest.
“please- please don’t leave me, i promise i’ll be better. i’ll do anything, please i can’t-,” you’re cut off by a deep hiccup and simon grasping your face in his hands- not painfully but commanding you to look into his eyes.
“love, what- why do you think i would leave you? and be better? what are you on, what would you need to be better about?”
you stare at him with wide eyes, puzzled by his response. you had been expecting him to tell you this was it, that he was finally done with putting up with someone who would never be good enough for him.
“you’ve been so distant with me lately. i thought i wasn’t being good enough for you. that i wasn’t good enough for you. im trying so hard to be better, be different, be the best for you and i’m sorry-“
“stop, oh my god, stop it please.” the older man effectively halts your self deprecating monologue. “it hurts me, that you think you wouldn’t ever be enough for me when you’re everything i’m not even sure how i even deserve. and i’ll admit i’ve been distant, but only cause i’m frustrated at you. not because i don’t love you, but because i do and everyday i watch you carve out pieces of yourself in order to please me. and love,” he wipes at the tears steadily flowing down your cheeks and smooths down your hair. “i hate seeing you rid yourself of everything i love about you, to turn yourself into something i never asked you to be.”
you’re taken aback by your boyfriend’s response. it never occurred to you that he might just love you for who you are, that you didn’t need to change in order for him to want you around. maybe you feel this way because your past partners always ‘loved’ you best when you were the exact copy of their mothers or whatever completely unattainable standards they had. maybe you’re sat sobbing in your boyfriend’s arms because you couldn’t read his emotions well and your mother was a minefield to be around and you never knew what to anticipate. but you also know that despite your shitty past and his, you have someone looking you in the eyes and saying ‘there’s nothing i want more than you as you are’.
you wipe at your face, as if you could wipe away the pain of insurmountable self-hatred and trauma. “okay, i’m okay. so, you do still love me? because i swear simon i can do whatever you ask of me, i just can’t- i just can’t bear for you to not love me.” despite his earlier words you’re still grappling with the need to please him, to be so good he has no choice but to love you forever and to never leave you.
“my love, i loved you yesterday, today, and will love you every day for the rest of my life. i can’t let you kill yourself, just to make me happy. in fact, it doesn’t make me happy at all. i love you for who you are, and that’s not gonna change, yeah?”
you know that if you try to speak, you’ll try to fight him on this, so instead you nod your head fervently until he pulls you until a bruising kiss, that momentarily melts away all your worries.
#mic answers#simon ghost riley x reader#if there's one thing i will do is project my own insecurities onto the reader oops#you're a fucking genius for this honey gotta love you#forgive me for any errors i wrote half of this in the dutch bros line
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some of y'all have a way too romanticised version of dutch van der linde in your heads, i think🤔
#not saying that you can't like him BUT#there is a difference between liking a character despite their flaws and just straight up imagining them as somebody they aren't#everytime i see people who describe dutch as this loving person who respects women so much im just like#“he would not fucking say that”#and he is definitely not a selfless lover who puts your needs and pleasure first#HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#dutch van der linde
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Bro thinks the world is a fashion show or something (my guy can be a supermodel and a gang leader at the same time, right?)
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 memes#dutch van der linde#rdr2#rdr2memes#red dead redemption community#dutch van der linde rdr2#dutchy my king#rdr2 meme#dutchs ass#i wanna fuck him so bad#i hate him but i love him#i hope no one sees this
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shoutout to the 12 daan/elise fans out there i am one of them (a bigger fan of the more fucked up version)
#daan von dutch#elise von dutch#fear and hunger stitches#everytime someone draws stitches fanart an angel gets its wings#i love fucked up yuri#need to spread my agenda.. sorry dailydaan followers....#wont do it again (lying) (i will if someone requests it)#promise i wont ever be this personal again...#not dailydaan
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Cood u dwar dutch x jimmy pls🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
(Not focing btw 💯💯🔥🔥)
top tier dynamic
stupid x stupid but in a different way
#tkk#the karate kid#dutch karate kid#jimmy karate kid#errrmmm gay#i love uou dutch and jimmy you are my favs#dutch x jimmy#why the fuck was there the johnny lawrence tag i meant to put tkk helloooo
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ESTEBAN OCON comments on why he wants Mick as his teammate at Alpine in 2023 during the driver’s press conference on Thursday ahead of the 2022 Dutch GP
+ bonus, gossiping besties afterwards:
#esteban ocon#mick schumacher#f1#formula 1#alpine#dutch gp 2022#haas#oH MY GOD#ESTEBAN OCON I FUCKING LOVE YOU#this is the ebst thing ever#sorry for the stupid gifs esteban said so many words
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It Takes a Village
read on Ao3
words: 3812
Arthur Morgan returns from being held captive by the O'Driscolls, but he's nearly dead. Thankfully, he's very well cared for.
--
The world spins in circles as Arthur forces himself to sit up, holding weakly onto the reins of his horse. He isn’t quite sure how long he’s been riding. It feels like hours and minutes simultaneously. His vision is going in and out, and he can’t quite tell if it’s sunrise or sunset. Muted colors swirl in the sky, bouncing off of dew-coated grass.
The trees suddenly begin to look vaguely familiar, but it’s too blurry to know for sure. Then, the smell of whiskey greets his nose, and muffled exclamations fill the air. His horse stops without him telling it to, and he knows he needs to get down. Instead of stepping off gracefully like his brain tells him, he falls to the rocky ground. His entire body burns and he has to fight the urge to close his eyes, knowing he may not open them again if he does.
“Arthur!” A blurry silhouette stands over him. Then another, then another. Mary-Beth, Karen, then Dutch. He can’t make out his face, but he knows that voice anywhere.
“I told you it was a set-up, Dutch,” Arthur groans, feeling like ‘I-told-you-so’ is all he can think right now.
Much to his surprise, Dutch doesn’t make any kind of smart comment. “My boy…my dear boy, what?”
Had Dutch not even noticed he was gone? Arthur’s tongue feels numb, like dead weight in his mouth. “They got me, but I got away…”
“Yes, that you did...” Dutch sounds like he’s underwater, but Arthur feels his cool, calloused hand beneath his head, cradling it gently as he shouts for Miss Grimshaw. He can’t concentrate on the noise anymore, but a couple people pick him up, making his body scream in agony until somehow, he makes it to his bed.
He blinks hard, wondering for a moment if Dutch would sit with him, but instead he watches him direct Susan to the stool nearby. “You’ll be okay, Mr. Morgan,” she says softly, kindness protruding through her normally hardened exterior. “You’re home.”
She gently takes his hand, and he lets her, not only because his arm feels like jelly and he can’t move it, but because he isn’t used to this tenderness. He thinks he likes it. She’s always been good to him, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that look of concern in her eyes before.
“Thank you…Miss Grimshaw,” he manages, somehow. He blinks, and for a moment, she reminds him of his mother, doting on him after coming down with some illness when he was small. A sense of calm washes over him as he feels her squeeze his hand gently, letting himself slip into unconsciousness.
***
“- just don’t know what you want from me, Hosea. He’s here now, isn’t he?”
“That ain’t the point and you know it, Dutch.” When one of them sighs, Arthur manages to squint, seeing blurry silhouettes standing beside a nearby tent. The voices sound further away. Hosea continues, gesturing. “Look at him. That’s our boy, but he ain’t small anymore and he ain’t stupid. If he has concerns, you should listen. If I have concerns... Any day could be our last but I’ll be damned if -” He cuts himself off, his breath trembling. Dutch places a hand on his shoulder while he continues. “I don’t want Arthur to go before me. I don’t think I could bear it.”
A quiet breeze blows by. Dutch’s voice hardens. “You won’t have to,” he promises, both silhouettes pressed carefully together in an embrace. “We…all of us, including you, and Arthur, are gonna be fine. I’m figuring it out, just like I always do.”
Arthur doesn’t hear Hosea’s response.
***
Deer rush by in the forest. Isaac and Eliza call to him. Mary is there in the distance but she disappears in a wisp of smoke, her father shouting profanities. Jenny and Mac scream. Blood soaks the ground. Arthur can’t breathe.
“Easy, Arthur, easy. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.” A voice cuts through. Arthur gasps and latches on. He’s dreaming, he knows he’s dreaming. “That’s it. Breathe, my boy.”
“H-Hosea,” he wheezes. Pain spreads like a spider’s web from his chest down to every limb. He arches his back and grunts, wanting it to stop - both the pain and the memories. He continues while the older man calls for Reverend Swanson. “Hosea, I can’t…I can’t open m’eyes…”
There’s the sound of water droplets falling into a bucket, and a cool press is put on his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay,” Hosea continues, clearly trying to keep his voice calm, the way he always does. “It’s a fever…you’re exhausted. You just need some more rest.” The cool press gives him some semblance of relief, and he tries to focus on breathing. “Here, Arthur. Drink.” A bottle is put to his lips. Shakily, he manages to swallow some of it - whiskey. The burning pain is replaced by a familiar burn instead.
Arthur can feel himself breathing a little easier. He tries to relax, finally managing to open his eyes. Hosea swims into view above him, concern plastered all over his face as he tries to hide it with a smile. He’s cradling his head gently, and Arthur leans into the touch, coughing a little. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Save your strength, son.” Hosea’s thumb gently strokes his cheek. “They really did a number on you…”
Arthur’s eyelids flutter. “How bad is it?”
With his other hand, Hosea gently moves his hair off of his face. “Not bad. You’ll be right as rain real soon. For now, just relax.” A word gurgles in Arthur’s throat. Hosea leans a little closer. “What was that?”
Arthur winces, leaning further into Hosea’s touch. He feels absolutely pathetic, like a child; in fact, he remembers being a kid, asking Hosea to stay after a nightmare, and here he is again, driving the dreams away like a hero. “Stay with me. Please.”
Hosea seems surprised by the request, but he smiles a mere second later. “Of course, dear boy. Of course.” Softly, he begins singing some lullaby, and Arthur feels the pain dull, at least enough that when he closes his eyes this time, he doesn’t see anything behind them at all.
***
The sound of a crackling fire slowly reaches Arthur’s ears. Instead of the burning pain he’d started to become accustomed to, it’s a dull throb, and it seems more manageable. Slowly, he opens his eyes, greeted by the roof of his tent.
His head is pounding, but he manages to turn it slightly to look out. To his surprise, in the stool right next to him is Lenny, and even more surprisingly, he’s asleep, his head in his arms against Arthur’s bedroll.
Arthur’s heart warms. He’s always taken a liking to this kid, and it’s nice to know that the feeling is mutual. A quiet clearing of the throat takes his eyes off of him. Standing against one of the trees is Kieran, eyes seemingly bright in the night’s darkness.
“He’s been by your side for quite some time now,” he says quietly. “You’re really cared for, y’know?”
Kieran looks uncomfortable as usual, so Arthur just nods. “I’m…very lucky.”
“I’m real glad you’re okay.” Kieran sounds genuine, the most genuine he’s ever heard, which makes Arthur chuckle quietly.
“You’re a good kid, Kieran,” he replies, his voice low and husky. “I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I was so rough on ya in the beginnin’.”
Nearly tripping over himself, Kieran’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no! No, it’s okay!” If it wasn’t so dark, Arthur was sure he’d see him blush. “You was just doin’ what you thought was right…” he clears his throat, pushing off of the tree. “I should let you get some rest. Night, Arthur.”
Arthur smiles slightly. “G’night. Get some rest too, ya hear?” The boy nods, then scurries off toward his tent. Arthur watches him go, then turns his gaze to Lenny.
Even in the dark, he can see his peaceful face, reminding him just how young he actually is. He’d only been with the gang for a little while, but Arthur had really grown fond of him. He’s torn for a moment, not wanting to wake him up, but also wanting him to have an actual good night’s sleep in bed.
“Lenny,” he says softly, reaching out to gently place a hand on Lenny’s head. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that, son.”
Lenny scrunches his nose up for a moment, like he’s holding onto the last bit of sleep before he recognizes the voice. His eyelids flutter open. “Arthur…? Hey, you’re awake!” A wide grin spreads across his face as he sits up, quickly scooching the stool closer. “How’re you feeling?”
He can’t help but chuckle through a cough. “I’m fine, I’m fine. What’re you doin’ here instead of in bed?”
Lenny’s face falls. “I…I been real worried about you, is all. You been asleep for three days, y’know.”
That sentence almost knocks the wind out of him. “Three days?” he repeats, trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yeah, so, all of us been takin’ turns sittin’ with you ‘til you get better. I…didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess…”
Arthur closes his eyes for a moment, deciding not to think about how bad of a shape he must be in. Instead, he looks toward the other, clearing his throat. “Well…thank you, Lenny. For keepin’ me company. It was good to wake up to a friendly face.”
The boy smiles, and Arthur feels proud to be the one to have caused it. “Anytime. Guess anything beats wakin’ up in jail, huh?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ll start yellin’ your name again.”
“Please don’t.”
Grinning, Arthur reaches up, weakly patting Lenny’s arm. “Alright then. You head on to bed now.”
“What? But - ”
“No buts, son. It’s late and you need real rest or you’ll be useless in the mornin’.” He doesn’t necessarily want to send him away, but for his own good, he knows he has to. “Go on, get. I’m fine.”
Lenny still seems unsure, but he stands up slowly, knowing that even in this state, he wouldn’t win an argument against him. “You better holler if you need anythin’.”
“I will, I will.”
Arthur watches him go, then exhales slowly. The camp is quiet. Everyone is safe. He listens to the crackle of the fire until his eyes slip closed again.
***
When he wakes again, it’s light out. He can’t be sure if it’s only been a few hours or if it’s been days, but he feels a little better. Sitting in the stool this time is Abigail, and she lights up when they lock eyes. “Good mornin’, Arthur! How’re you feelin’?”
“Mornin’,” he grunts, his voice hoarse and thick with sleep. Now that his body isn’t burning, he’s beginning to feel sore with all this lying around. “Fine, fine. Wishin’ I wasn’t stuck here.”
“I know, I know. But your wound’s lookin’ better already. Just a bit longer and you’ll be up in no time.”
“Sure.”
Abigail seems to want to say something more, perhaps sensing his frustration, but stops herself. Instead, she seems to remember something. “Oh! I nearly forgot, Jack had somethin’ for you but he wanted to wait ‘til you were up. Jack! Oh, where did that boy go…?” Huffing a sigh, she stands up and smooths out her dress. “I’ll be right back, Arthur. Let me go check on him.”
As she wanders off toward her tent, he lifts a hand in goodbye, then exhales slowly. How long has it truly been since he returned from the O’Driscolls’ camp? How much time has he wasted just lying here? Glancing down at himself, he places both elbows on the bed, moving to push himself up when a voice by the tree stops him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Arthur throws his head back for a moment, annoyed by both the voice and the fact that he was probably right. He sighs loudly. “Here to make fun of me, Marston?”
John, leaning against a nearby tree, scoffs softly. “Just ‘cause you teased me when I was recoverin’ don’t mean I’m gonna do the same to you.”
“Then you’re a fool. I deserve it, don’t I?”
“Maybe.” Slowly, John sits in the stool Abigail had just recently occupied. “But when I’m a fool, you always steer me right.”
Arthur eyes him for a moment, slowly letting himself lay back down. “…Why’d you leave, John?” He knows he’s being childish, he knows that after all this he should just forgive John like everyone else, but the wounds still feel so fresh. They’d been raised together. They were taught the same values, so why did John forget them?
Leaning his elbows on his knees, John sighs, looking away. “…Can’t even remember now. I was stupid. I was a fool.”
“I coulda told you that,” he scoffs in return, but it turns into a cough. His throat burns as he tries to ask for water, but all that comes out is a strangled noise.
John is by his side in an instant, gently supporting his head upward to place a canteen to his lips. Arthur drinks like he hasn’t in days, and honestly, he’s sure he hasn’t. The situation isn’t lost on him, either - he doesn’t think John has ever been so gentle before, and it’s after Arthur had just insulted him. Perhaps his kid brother is still in there, somewhere. Perhaps that’s why he’s been so hard on him.
Trying to catch his breath, Arthur puts his head back on his pillow while John leans back to close the canteen, trying not to smile. “Feel better?”
“Shut up.” Once he begins to breathe easier, he glances toward John again, groaning internally. There isn’t even any trace of scorn on John’s face - only relief. “Thanks, Marston.”
“‘Course.”
The grass crunches nearby with two sets of fast-moving feet. “I know you’re excited, Jack, but please be careful. He’s still hurt real bad.”
“I know, Momma!”
Jack and Abigail appear beside John. The two exchange a look, and Abigail breaks eye contact first, making John stand up wordlessly. She takes the stool without so much as another glance his way, pulling Jack up onto her lap. The boy is beaming, so bright Arthur thinks it could rival the sun. “Hey, Jack. Whatcha got there?”
“Uncle Arthur, I’m so glad you’re awake!” he exclaims, holding something up. “I made you this spur out of flowers I found near the stream.” It’s a small blob of a thing, bright yellow flowers all tied together and vaguely shaped like a spur. “I know you can’t use it for real, but I thought it might make you feel better…”
“Ain’t he amazin’?” Abigail gushes.
Arthur finds himself oddly touched. He cracks a smile, gently taking the flowers from the boy to inspect it. “Now this, this is really somethin’, Jack. Thank you very much, it’s beautiful. Hey, would you do me a favor?” Lighting up, Jack nods emphatically, and the man continues. “Put this in my journal over there. I don’t wanna accidentally squish it while I’m layin’ here.”
“Okay!” Jack climbs down off of his mother’s lap, carefully taking the spur from Arthur and placing it gently into the pages of his journal. “Did you like it, Uncle Arthur?”
“I loved it, son,” he assures him as he gets back into Abigail's lap. Reaching over, he gently pats the top of Jack’s head. “You got a real talent, there.”
Jack smiles, pulling a book from his back pocket. “Would you like to hear a story?”
“Sure.”
The boy’s quiet voice spins tales of romance and wonder, and before long Arthur’s eyelids grow heavy. He doesn’t fight it.
***
Birds tweet quietly, zipping in and out through the trees. Arthur groans softly, wondering when it’ll end, when he’ll be able to do anything other than lay here. A gentle hand finds its way onto his shoulder.
“Easy, now. You’re alright.”
Slowly, Arthur opens his eyes. “Charles?”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m here. How are you feeling?” Charles is sitting in the stool beside him, his hand still on his shoulder, gentle and grounding.
Through a cough, Arthur says, “Better, I think.” He knows better than to completely lie to Charles - after all, he’s always able to see through him. “Feelin’…Feelin’ pretty useless, to be honest with you.”
“I know how it is,” he responds gently, “but you get your strength back little by little every day.”
“How is everyone?”
Charles looks away, but Arthur swears he can see the hint of a smile on his face. It seems like he almost wants to tease him, but he decides against it. “Everyone’s fine. Javier, Micah, and Bill have been on a few jobs. I’ve done some hunting. It ain’t the same without you, though.”
“Eh, you’re the one who’s good at it. I’m always just along for the ride,” he chuckles.
“You’ve improved with your bow a lot, though.”
He watches Charles for a moment, wondering if he’d gotten any sleep recently. He looks tired, but he always does. “Would you…do me a favor, Charles?”
“Anything.”
Arthur sighs. It’s something stupid, something he wouldn’t dare ask anyone else, but Charles is special. Charles wouldn’t judge him. Charles would do anything for him. He was special.
“Help me shave.”
For a moment, there’s only the sound of tweeting birds. Charles seems taken aback, but before Arthur can even regret asking, he reaches for the oil and silver razor hesitantly, holding them in both hands. “Are you certain? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re the only one I trust for this,” he assures him, moving to push himself up. This time when he does it, it doesn’t hurt as much, and he leans back heavily. “I don’t think I can do it myself right now. Please, Charles.”
Charles sighs softly, then scoots his stool a little closer. “…Okay. Try to stay still.” He places the razor down, pouring some of the oil into his hands. He rubs them together, then gently rubs them into Arthur’s beard. “I didn’t think this was how my morning was going to go.”
Arthur chuckles, watching the lines form along Charles’ brow as he concentrates. “Me neither, but I also wasn’t expectin’ to be this beat up.”
“I’m shocked you managed to get out of there,” Charles admits, wiping his hands on the nearby towel. “But then, if anyone could, it’d be you, Arthur.” He picks up the razor, steadying his hand, and moves it up to Arthur’s chin.
It’s gentle in a way that surprises him. With a tool this sharp, Charles manages to trim down the beard without so much as knicking Arthur at all. He doesn’t want to break his concentration, so he just watches, watches him focus, wondering how they’d gotten so lucky to find Charles a few months ago. Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever found a man quite as talented, quite as kind, quite as amazing as Charles.
Charles takes his time, and Arthur lets him. Eventually, he puts the razor down, holding up the mirror for him to look. In the mirror, Arthur looks tired. His cheek is still bruised, and he’s paler than normal, but his beard is now a manageable length and he can’t help but chuckle in surprise. “I’ll have to hire you to do my shaves from now on.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think being a barber is the life for me,” Charles chuckles, leaning back a bit, “but I’m glad you like it.”
“Thank you. Really, I mean it.” Arthur looks over, placing a hand on Charles’ knee. “You’re a good man, Charles Smith.”
Smiling slightly, Charles places his hand on top of his, then pats it gently. “So are you.”
For some reason, when it comes from Charles, Arthur wants to believe it.
***
A few nights later, Arthur sits up in his bedroll again, lighting himself a cigarette. It immediately makes him feel better as he breathes out a puff of smoke. Suddenly, perhaps following the trail, Dutch appears at the side.
“It’s nice to see you up, son.” Leaning against the nearby tree, Dutch watches, and his eyes say that he shouldn’t be smoking. Arthur knows he’s probably right, but he still blows one more puff before putting it out. “How are you feelin’?”
“Everyone keeps askin’, and the answer’s always fine.” Trying not to sound too frustrated, Arthur sighs softly. “I’m sorry. I shoulda seen it comin’.”
Dutch shakes his head, walking over to sit in the stool. “Nonsense, Arthur, nonsense. It…” he sighs, shaking his head. “It was my fault. I didn’t listen to you, or Hosea, and that’s what got you into this mess. I apologize.”
The apology almost leaves Arthur speechless. He blinks a few times, then smiles a little. “You know I’m always gonna be behind you, Dutch. Always.”
Dutch gently ruffles his hair. “And you know I’d never let Colm O’Driscoll hurt another person I love. I was gonna come for you, and kill every last one to make sure you were safe.”
“I know.”
He hadn’t known for sure, but that thought, looking back now, is ridiculous. Of course Dutch would come for him. They’re family.
Quiet singing floats in the air, the familiar voice of Javier and his guitar carried through the trees. Arthur smiles, watching Dutch look up. “Go join everyone else. Find Hosea or somethin’. I’m fine over here.”
“You sure?”
“No need for you to be sittin’ over here feelin’ sorry for yourself when everyone’s havin’ fun, Dutch. Go.”
Exhaling, Dutch carefully stands up. “Okay, okay. Yell if you need anything, son.”
Arthur lifts a hand in goodbye, watching him walk off toward the others, where the fire crackles. Feeling better, he lays down, letting the peace eventually lull him back to sleep.
***
Another few days pass. A rotating group of people sit with him while he finishes recovering, and eventually he’s able to get up and walk around with minimal pain. He goes to the docks, breathing in the early morning air as he writes in his journal.
“I thought I’d be buryin’ you, Mr. Morgan.”
Arthur looks up with a slight smile. “Not quite yet, Reverend.”
Swanson chuckles. “Good. How you feelin’?”
The question doesn’t bother him anymore. He sighs, remembering how often he’s saved the Reverend and now, he’s saved him in return. “Oh, ‘bout the same as you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Swanson smiles. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
Arthur listens to the sound of receding footsteps, then stands up. When he turns around, he takes in the camp. As he listens to Hosea’s laughter, Mary-Beth and Tilly’s domino game, Charles and Lenny’s quiet voices, he finds himself feeling really, really good.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#lenny summers#kieran duffy#abigail roberts#john marston#jack marston#charles smith#reverend swanson#susan grimshaw#man i fucking love this game#I love found family#my writing#agoldengalaxy#my post
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Arthur watching Colm walking up to Dutch:
#arthurxdutch#arthur x dutch#dutch x arthur#dutchxarthur#incorrect arthur morgan#vandermorgan#incorrect vandermorgan#arthur morgan#incorrect dutch van der linde#vandermorgan headcannons#rdr2 memes#arthur loves dutch#Dutch truly didn't even givea fuck that Arthur went missing and I hate it#my poor babies#colm o'driscoll#fuck them o’driscolls and them Pinkertons too#vandermorgan family
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Can Dutch kindly just slip and fall while land his ass on my face 🤤🥵
#dutch vanderlinde#dutch is my life#dutch#i fucking love dutch#dutch van der linde#daddy dutchie#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption community#red dead fandom#red dead redemption#dutchieliciousplans#dutch has a plan#dutchie#red dead dutch#red dead 2 dutch#saint denis#revenge is a best dish eaten#red dead photos#red dead 2 photos#red dead photo mode#red dead photography#red dead redmeption 2 photo mode#red dead redemption 2 photography
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this is a dutch van der linde and micah bell hate club - dutch and micah defenders are not welcome here
#also dutch defenders does not equal dutch likers. you can still like hin as a character n stuff#i underrstand he's cool to think about and one of the most conplex characters in the game#but if you come to me and say “dutch is a good guy” or “molly deserved it” or stuff like that. immediate block fuck off#micah though. eh. like. choose better bestie#the writing for micah isnt bad per say but there are better written more complex characters than him#i mean. micah isnt complex at all. hes a bad guy who enjoys doing bad things n it all dates back into his childhood#theres nothing more to that really. bad and malicious people exist and hes one of them#sure there might be more to that but thats all the analysis i will ever do of him. he makes me so mad#also. like. i like vandermatthews. heckbi love vandermatthews because their relationship is so interesting to think about.#but i often feel that in the case of vandermatthews dutch's canon treatment of his partners including hosea gets ignored a lot#im glad they divorced. hosea deserves better. molly deserves better. susan deserves better. everyone deserves better.#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 dutch van der linde#dutch van der linde#rdr2 micah bell#micah bell#strawberry speaks
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bro it makes me so mad how ppl say sean didn’t need a break after getting recused by the bounty hunters becuz he got a party but whats ur opinions on it???
Obviously, I think way too much about Sean, and read very much into a lot of smaller things when it comes to him. I imagine the people who say Sean didn't need a break after his rescue would think I read too much into his character, and I may perhaps even be hit with a 'its not that deep bro', but that has never really stopped me, lol.
And I will wholeheartedly disagree with those who say he did not need a break. I think believing that, taking this aspect at face value, is disregarding one of the game's strongest points; environmental storytelling. A lot of what we learn about the gang members in this game, is through just hanging out at camp. Not only do you get to be privy to scenes and interactions that tell us about the interpersonal dynamics, but the characters also have daily routines and habits that tell you things about them!
And see, in Horseshoe, sometimes Sean walks funny at camp even without having had anything to drink ahead of time. You could read this as a bug but I personally think there's a more obvious reason behind it. He's quick to sit down or lean against things, during his shifts on watch AND otherwise. Other people here on tumblr have pointed out how he barely eats, or clearly struggles to.
Now consider what Sean actually TELLS us, in his rescue mission. He had his teeth pulled, his feet burned. And I don't know about you, but that sure does sound like things that would leave a mark - not necessarily a visible one, but one that would affect behavior, because pain does.
When I had my wisdom teeth pulled, I was on painkillers for days after. I also had one done at a time, so that I could use the opposite side of my mouth to chew my food while one side healed, and I still struggled to eat.
Do you think Sean was shown the same courtesy?
He has a front tooth missing - in what world is eating comfortable? Do you think he has the strength, then, to be up on his feet all the time? Feet which, most likely, are still healing from being burned??? Like, what is the logic in taking Sean being fine at face value, here?? Do we actually believe Dutch is a good and competent leader, now?!?
And like, I'll say it, Sean 100% played down what he'd been through. I could go on at length about my thoughts about the reasons why, as pertaining to the role he performs in the gang, excitement and relief and adrenaline about being free again, not wanting to appear weak, etc etc. But I also do think, then, that it's almost a little bit silly to not extend him the same courtesy as we do many of the other characters of this game, and consider what this experience might actually have been like for him.
Sean, Arthur, and Javier were all kidnapped and tortured. All three of them. And they all had it real fucking bad. Can we, like, let ourselves sit with that for a moment? And acknowledge that Sean had it just as bad as the other two??
He was also stuck in that situation for the longest!!! At least two fucking weeks, minimum, while Javier and Arthur's experiences were for -- two to four days?
The difference is of course that Arthur and Javier both had their experiences shown on screen, and they both got to rest afterwards.
Sorry, that was a bit of a tangent, back to the party thing.
Ultimately, Sean is given a party because the gang needs a party. They are still recovering after Blackwater and Colter; they are in dire need of levity and fun, which is given through something to celebrate. They need a distraction. These are the things which Sean performs and gives the gang; the party isn't even really for him; it's for what he represents, and what his return represents. The party isn't what he needs, and he sure as hell was not well enough to just jump back into action.
What he needs, what he should have had, is a break after the shit he went through. He wasn't given permission for that though, not from their leader and not socially from anyone else, and furthermore he didn't really give himself permission for it. You have to do his rescue mission before pouring forth oil, because the second Sean is back, he's looking for jobs, and he wants in on the train robbery.
He's working, immediately.
(The fact that people actually believe him lazy just because he doesn't do as much as Arthur, the gang's workhorse, after returning from being held and tortured by bounty hunters, is insane to me. Yall are gonna believe Arthur about that?? According to him, all the guys in camp save Charles are lazy!)
Idk, what I find the strangest about takes like these is like... Most of the other characters are worthy of discussion, analysis, and discourse. But - not even the game, but characters in the game, who show themselves to have their own faults and prejudices as well - tell us Sean is lazy and easy-going and fun and that's all he is, and we believe it? Where did the critical thinking go??
#this is the same game where arthur calls himself ugly like lets be so forreal#i love him but he isn't the most people knowing of the lot is he#and dutch deciding now it's time to party fuck sean's need to heal is like a whole other can of worms#it's bread and circus. come on gang#sean macguire#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 meta#red dead redemption 2 meta#teki talks#arthur morgan#javier escuella#asks#meta asks#rdr2 thoughts#rdr asks
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I’m in Rome and have some updates for the few of you who followed my girl drama in Brussels last December:
Saw German girl and she immediately came to hug me and chat. She was tired after a long train ride and I was also tired from a long day of traveling so we didn’t interact for long. I’m told she’s just very friendly but I’m genuinely not used to that kind of attention and also she’s really cute and I AAAAAAAAAAAAH
Italian girl is sleeping on top of me. As in a bunk bed. But I swear this is some fanfic shit.
Another Italian girl said I reminded her of someone she knows and when she showed me a pic I went “girl I wish that was me” and she said “well, that was a compliment” and now that I’m thinking about that I’m all ?????
There’s also another cute German girl in my room and my Portuguese buddy has already started with his theories.
#Johanna speaks#Every single German in this group is friendly as fuck. The first person who hugged me tonight was a German guy I met in Brussels#they really don’t fit the ‘cold’ stereotype I guess#Also I’m seeing a pattern of both Germans and Italians being friendly towards me#and I’d really love to know what I have that just gets along well specifically with these two nationalities#well and the Dutch also like me I guess
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when joost klein said
"want ik stond niet stevig in mijn schoenen dus strikte ik maar m'n veters"
i really felt that
#OOOOH IK BEN DE ADVOCAAT VAN DE DUUUUUIVEL#OOOOOH EN IK VLUCHT NAAR HET DUISTER HET DUISTERR#fucking love this song#paidaton riehuja 🤝 demonen in me lichaam#using speedy electric guitars to lure me in#joost klein#these lyrics are so fucking funny btw#ik voel me een sardine tussen dan weer tien sardines COME ON THATS GOLD#translations: i wasn't steady in my shoes so i tied my laces#standing steady in your shoes is a dutch saying that means you're steadfast in life#and the sardine one literally says “i feel like one sardine between ten sardines” its so dumb PREACH BABY BOY
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You guys now what hurts me every time? Seeing Arthur’s reaction when Dutch says:
„I was gonna say you’re like a son to me…but you’re more than that.“
The fuckin hopeful puppy eyes and his small smirk I can’t- I FUCKING CANT.
At the end of chapter 6, the heartbreaking scene where Arthur says „i gave you all I had. I did.“ THIS IS THE MOMENT THAT FLASHES BEFORE MY EYES. ARTHURS HOPEFUL PUPPY EYES, THE SMIRK.
Lemme go cry for a minute I’ll be back soon
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 memes#dutch van der linde#rdr2#rdr2memes#red dead redemption community#dutch van der linde rdr2#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur morgan#arthur morgan rdr2#I can’t#this fucking game makes me cry every time#I love Arthur Morgan with all my soul#rdr2 meme#Dutch really fucked up with this one
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