#and the fact that he didn’t get to kill micah?

[drcooldog]

I will be normal after experiencing the RDR2 [REDACTED] scene (lie)

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

I love how Colm is just a little bit of an arrogant idiot.

Talking about turning in Dutch like Colm and his boys will somehow get out of it all with no law also snatching them. Arthur tells him as much:

“The way I see it, they get him, they [the law] forget about me.” - Colm

“They ain’t the forgettin’ sort.” - Arthur

Colm’s entire plan failing because Dutch doesn’t even care to save his golden boy (whether Micah’s meddling lead to that is unknown).

A lot of what Colm does are plans that are solid enough to work as long as no one interrupts or fucks then up.

Sigh. He is such an oddity. He comes off as this calculating clever cruel and cold gang leader but really he is a narcissist who perfected his manipulation skill tree and makes disposable men act out his rickety plans.

The fact he died because his one sniper got killed and he didn’t bring more than 2 redundant men is laughable. God, he was so cocky leading up to the realization.

This man never once was forced to use his brain and make a back up plan because few things ever got so bad to go up the chain of command and directly impact him.

[tinyfishtits]

Join Me?

Micah Bell / Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader stumbles upon Micah skinny dipping. Word Count: 2,973 Rating: Teen and Up ~ for foul language and suggestive themes Author's Note: More fluff! This is Ch. 2 of 'Need a Haircut, Doll?' ★ Chapter 1 ☆ Read on AO3 ★ Masterlist

Life in camp finally seemed to settle and find its rhythm over the next few weeks in Clemons Point. The men were out most days diddling around Rhodes playing cops and robbers and stirring up trouble… I tried to keep out of it for the most part. In fact, I was so on edge being in Lemoyne Raider territory I hadn’t left camp at all since the move, I was starting to go stir crazy. 

Since joining the gang back in Colter, I'd established myself as a pretty proficient hunter. I was good with a bow and even better with my knives. I gave Charles and Arthur a run for their money when it came to clean kills and high quality pelts. I wasn’t used to being so cooped up and Grimshaw was really taking advantage of all my time loitering in camp. She knew I was an easy target for the chores everyone else seemed to avoid, and now I understood why. After weeks of scraping up horse crap, Karen's vomit, and cleaning dog piss out of bedrolls and blankets that the new camp mutt seemed intent on marking as his territory, I both smelt and felt like shit. 

All this was just compounded by the fact that I couldn’t seem to get a good night's sleep. And so I found myself, for the fifth night in a row, tossing and turning restlessly for hours until I finally gave up the fight and decided to go on a walk. Bundling up in my wool blanket, I made my way down to the lake. It was still dark out, probably just nearing four in the morning. The sun wouldn’t paint the sky for at least another hour. I walked barefoot across the rocky shore, treading slowly over the uneven terrain until the pebbles tapered off to finer grains of sand and I finally felt the warm relief of water at my feet. 

Listening to the soft, rhythmic lapping of the waves, I let my mind wander as I walked. I thought of what I would do when I left camp next. Perhaps I would convince Charles to go hunting with me, or maybe Keiren would finally take me up on my offer to teach him how to throw a knife if he’d show me how to fish. Being surrounded by so many beautiful and bountiful lakes, rivers and swamps in Scarlett Meadows alone, it seemed a shame that was one of the few skills I never even attempted, having written it off early in life as a needlessly boring activity. After all the chaos of the last year, though… I’d grown to cherish those simpler, quiet moments. What was once dull, was now peaceful. 

A few yards out in the water I heard a faint splashing, like a large fish breaking the surface. Straining my eyes in the darkness, I could see something shiny and dark floating on the water. The longer I looked, the bigger it got, slowly emerging from the depths and coming toward where I stood on the shore. The moment the moonlight caught his skin I gasped and turned away, almost falling on my face as my foot caught the edge of my blanket. 

“Jesus! Christ, I- I didn’t-” I stuttered, frozen in embarrassment as I realized what exactly I’d stumbled on to. Micah Bell was half submerged in the lake, a few yards behind me, completely naked. “I didn’t… see… anything.” I said sheepishly. It was mostly truthful. I didn’t see anything, below his waist at least… But I had seen more of him than I ever had before. My cheeks burned hot at the image cemented in my head. Micah, glistening wet in the moonlight, toned arms reaching up to wipe the long hair from his face, freshly trimmed mustache dripping water onto his chest and falling down his soft stomach, the golden hair that trailed down it to what lay just below the water's surface.

The silence following my accidental peeping was painful and I found myself desperately wanting to escape, wishing I had just sat by the fire like every other cold, restless night. Was this what he did? Where he disappeared to after everyone else was asleep?  I had been surprised before when I never ran across him on my midnight walks around camp. Part of me always hoped I would…

“I- I’m sorry. I’ll go.” I said, starting back off in the direction of camp. I’d only made it a few clumsy steps before I heard my name, soft and velvety on the wind at my back. I stopped dead in my tracks, still too red in the face to dare turning to look at him just yet. 

“Wait.” Was all he said, the silence that followed filled only by the subtle splashing of water as he moved through it. “Join me?” His voice rang out from the darkness. The water at my feet, once warm against my skin, now felt ice cold in comparison to the fire raging through me. I’d never heard him so… serious . He always had such a cocky air about him, laced every word in sleazy armor as to not give too much of himself away. The rawness of this one small request, just two simple words… it hung between us like a lightning bolt on the edge of a knife. 

The pure shock of it had me turning to face him, embarrassment over my red face overpowered by curiosity. “What?” I gawked back at him. Even if he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks, it was obvious by the way my voice rose two octaves how flustered I was. Only his head bobbed above the water now and he met my wide eyes with a sly smirk. The moonlight shimmered off the water and reflected in his light blue eyes, igniting them like the fluorescent irises of a predator stalking its prey. It sent a shiver down my spine. 

“I-” I started, feeling the need to speak when he let the silence drag on, but had no clue what to say or do. The thought of going for a much needed soak in the pleasantly warm water was all too enticing… Would he think me a prude if I waded into the water in my clothes? Or even more so if I walked away? If it were anyone else, Charles, Arthur, Bill… I wouldn’t have cared what they would think. But something in me desperately wanted to be vulnerable in this moment, not to turn away or hide myself in fear this chance would not come around again. 

“Turn around.” I said, my voice much steadier than I felt. His eyebrows shot up at first, then his lips twitched with a smile and he turned away to face the horizon. I shuffled out of my clothes, setting them beside where his were, to my surprise, neatly folded on the pebbly ground. Another facet of his personality suddenly fell into place. The gruff, grimey outlaw valued order and care when it came to his possessions. It was clear in the way he tended to his weapons, his horse, his facial hair, and now, his clothes. 

The water felt incredible. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone swimming, or even had a proper soak in a tub. It’d been long enough I forgot how light it made your body, how, when the water was the perfect temperature as it was tonight, it felt close to flying. If it weren’t for the light of the moon flickering off the water's surface it’d be hard to think otherwise, the darkness of night and water were practically one in the same. Once the water met my chin and the lakebed disappeared beneath my feet, I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. 

Micah turned to face me then, “What’s so funny?” He asked, a gleaming smile painting his face as he examined my own elated expression. 

“It just-” I giggled, feeling the water flow through my toes and fingers so softly it was almost ticklish. “I really needed this.” I admitted. 

His smile softened and he hummed in acknowledgement. “Yer workin’ too hard. I don’t know why you let that old bat order you around so much.” 

I wasn’t overly fond of Grimshaw, but I understood at the very least where she was coming from. The camp would fall to pieces overnight if it weren't for her. “She only has me do what needs to be done, I don’t see you pitchin’ in on chores.” 

Micah scoffed. “I bring in cash, sweetheart, I already got a job.” He was just a few feet away from me now, effortlessly paddling his arms and legs. I wasn’t as skilled of a swimmer and could already feel my limbs growing tired at the energy I was exerting just to keep my head above water. Micah noticed my struggle and positioned himself behind me. “Lean back” His gravely whisper brushed against my ear. I did as he ordered and found myself supported by two strong hands on my back as I let my body relax against his hold. 

I let out a content sigh and heard his chuckle ring out above me. “Thank you” I whispered back, my eyes closed as I enjoyed the bliss of feeling as though I truly was floating, suspended in air. 

“Least I could do, darlin’.” He replied, his voice soft and soothing. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to give in completely to his hold on me. As I began to drift off, I could have sworn I heard Micah hum to me, gentle, sweet tunes. One I even recognized as a lullaby from my childhood. I wondered briefly if his mother sang to him as a boy, if he’d ever had a moment as peaceful as the one he was gifting me tonight. He held me like that for so long that by the time I opened my eyes, the sun was rising at my feet, the sky a beautiful deep tangerine.

He slowly released me from his hold once I began to stir awake in his arms. “Mornin’” He whispered, so close I could have sworn I felt his mustache scratch my ear. I turned to face him and he made no effort to move away, our bodies just a foot away from each other. As the sun lit the sky and the water, I became acutely aware of how naked we were. My cheeks reddened in an instant, it took more willpower than I was willing to admit, not to look down. As if he could read my thoughts, though I’m sure they were clearly written on my face, Micah waved a hand toward the shore, splashing the water with his gesture. “Go get dressed doll, I ain’t lookin’.” 

I waded to the shore, my legs a bit wobbly as I readjusted to the weight of my body. The bite of the morning chill prickled at the soft hairs on my body and I shivered against it. Quickly pulling on my clothes, I watched as Micah dove under water. I was surprised how long he could hold his breath, staying submerged for over a minute before his golden head broke the surface again. Fully dressed and bundled once more in my blanket, I yelled for him. “You comin’ cowboy?” 

Diving once more, Micah resurfaced just a few feet away from the shore, shaking his head and flinging the water from his hair like a dog. I yelped as droplets showered my bare legs and jumped back, much to his amusement. Chuckling, he rose from the water, giving me no warning as his bare body came into view. His tanned, toned, glistening body… My mouth went dry and I stumbled once more to turn around in time, giving him the same privacy he allotted me.

I walked over to one of the many large boulders scattered across the shore and took a seat, staring at my hands as he dressed. The faint rustling of fabric and Micah’s soft grunts as he pulled his clothes over damp skin filled the silence between us. The strike of a match and the subtle crackling burn that followed caught my attention and I looked up to find Micah watching me, a cigarette lazily perched between his lips, dressed except for his shirt which he left completely unbuttoned, his chest on full display. 

I opened my blanket and patted the space beside me, a silent invitation. He sauntered over and joined me without a word. His body was so warm , like he had his own fire burning under skin. Micah stiffened as I cuddled up to his side, my arms automatically wrapping around his bicep, pulling him closer. Another shiver wracked my body at our temperature difference and he relaxed, snaking his arm out of my grip to wrap around my waist and bring me deeper into his embrace, pulling the blanket around us both. 

We sat in companionable silence and watched the sun rise, basking in each other's warmth. That faint lakey musk clung to us both, but Micah scent was… deeper, more complex. The ashy burn of salt tingled at my nose, melded delectably with the tobacco smoke and a greener, fresher aroma, like prairie grass. I didn’t realize I was nuzzling his neck until he let out the faintest moan, just barely more than a sigh. But the vibration of it through his throat tickled at my nose and I shot up, suddenly aware how tangled up I was with him. He peeked sidelong at me, taking the cigarette from his lips and blowing a puff of smoke from the side of his mouth, away from me. “Why’d ya stop?” He asked, his voice so low it was barely more than a whisper. 

Instead of searching for an answer I reached for the cigarette in his hand and brought it to my lips, drawing a deep puff before returning it to his still outstretched fingers. I could feel his eyes on me as I gazed out at the brightening horizon. “You been havin’ bad dreams?” He asked suddenly. I turned to look at him, surprise and confusion painting my expression. “I- um.” He stuttered, clearing his throat before continuing, “You haven't been sleeping…” 

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and sighed as I sunk back against his warmth. “I’ve just been going a little stir crazy is all.” And when he didn’t reply added, “And it’s cold as hell here at night. I don't know how anyone gets any sleep.”

“Well go into town today, let Grimshaw do her own damn chores for once.” He said, as if it were that simple, and for him I’m sure it was. I didn’t want to admit the real reason I’d confined myself to camp the past few weeks… couldn’t bring myself to say the word, scared. I was scared. I’d made it my mission the last year to improve my knife and bow skills so I’d never feel helpless again, and I’d done a damn good job of it. But the memory of the raiders, the trauma I'd endured at their hands… It wasn’t easily forgotten. And although I could effortlessly take down an Elk, a dozen men with nothing but malice coursing through their veins was a different story entirely. 

When my silence dragged on Micah added, “I can come with ya, if you want.” I perked up, my heart fluttering at the idea of spending a day with him. 

“Would- Would you go hunting with me?” I asked, suddenly excited for what the day ahead of me held. Finally, I thought, something other than chores! Micah let out a breathy laugh and flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground. 

“Animals?” He said with a theatrical sigh, “It’s not really my… area of expertise.” But after a moment relented, “Alright..." He drawled, "What are we huntin’?” A wide smile spread across my face as I looked up at him, “Yotes!” I said, the excitement clear in my voice. I’d been dying to get some pelts to make myself a propper, warm bed. 

Micah laughed, a genuine, deep laugh that shook me. “Coyote's it is then.” And pulled me in closer to his chest with a sigh. “Maybe I-” He started, a hand idly playing with a strand of my hair as he searched for what to say. “Could I teach you how to shoot?” He whispered into my brow. 

“I know how to shoot.” I said and he quickly retorted, “A gun darlin’.”

I hummed, feigning that I had to think it over. I’d wanted to ask him to teach me to shoot the first time I saw him twirl his revolvers around his fingers. “Sure.” I said finally, “But I don’t have a gun.” 

“I can fix that.” He said, getting up and stretching a hand out to me. The smile he gave me was soft and sweet, his silver-blue eyes alight. He looked like he’d emerged from a painting. The sun behind him gave the appearance that he glowed with golden light, beckoning me toward him like some rugged, gunslinging siren. I took his hand and let him pull me up, our hands lingering in each others for a moment longer than need be. 

He leaned down then, picking up his hat and dusting the sand from it before placing it on my head. “Looks better on you.” He said quickly, his voice a bit rough, and turned back toward camp. Blush burned at my cheeks as I watched him walk off, my eyes lingering on his broad back, his hips… “Comin’?” He yelled back at me, and I jolted, hurrying to catch up with him.

[marstonsboy]

jack marston

yeah. (yap incoming)

there’s something to be said, i think, about the fact that jack goes from a sixteen-year-old that can barely use a gun to the level of skill we see him have at nineteen. in order to have improved that much in the span of three years, he had to have been practicing a lot. he can draw his gun faster than a (presumably) highly trained former government agent and proves himself dangerously capable almost immediately— i’d go as far as to say he’s on par with john and arthur.

so, evidently, he had to have been practicing during those years after john’s death and before abigail’s. whether or not he was doing this in preparation to kill edgar ross or for the sake of protecting his mother after the attack on beecher’s hope is something i wonder about, but right now i’m more interested in the fact that, regardless of how long he’d been planning his revenge, jack doesn’t go after ross until after abigail dies.

i have no doubt in my mind that he knew killing ross wouldn’t solve anything. he knows that his dad hunted down micah bell, and all it did was get him killed in the end. he also had to know that his parents did everything they could to prevent him from going down this path, so he likely waited until after abigail passed because he didn’t want her to see him become a killer.

part of me thinks that revenge wasn’t his only motivation, though. jack at the end of red dead one’s story is pretty openly suicidal, regardless of your honor level. low honor jack is a bit sadistic, but makes it clear through self-loathing comments that he hates what he’s become. high honor jack also expresses his self-hatred at several points, and during combat can occasionally yell out that he has “nothing to live for” while goading his enemies.

so, jack marston, nineteen years old, having lost uncle, his father, and his mother in such a short span of time, going out and doing exactly what got his father killed? i sincerely think that part of his motivation for being an outlaw is hoping that it’ll get him killed sooner. this life killed just about all the family he had, and he doesn’t have anyone left. even if he expresses disgust with himself for turning out like this, he isn’t going to stop with his self destructive actions anytime soon.

considering he gunned down an ex-government agent in an illegal duel, and said agent’s family (if left alive) could identify him, i doubt he wouldn’t already have a price on his head. plus, y’know, it doesn’t take a detective to come to the logical conclusion that john marston’s son is the one that did it.

so maybe it wasn’t just that he didn’t want his mom to see him become everything she tried to protect him from. maybe it was also that he didn’t want her to have to lose him too.

[spoonsand]

CONTAINS SPOILERS

Just finished my second playthrough and I have to say: I hate Dutch more than Micah. Don’t get me wrong Micah is scum, but Dutch knew (mostly) everybody in the gang for over a year. Sometimes over a DECADE- and he still turns his back on them. All the kids he and Hosea raised, didn’t matter, the ‘last’ score mattered. The last robbery mattered. Not the orphans or runaways he raised, taught and loved.

Micah is a superficial type. You know he’s evil. When you first meet him, you know he’s bad. But I liked Dutch in definitely the first 3 chapters, I was still liking him in 4. Guarma was iffy. Beaver Hollow is where it all goes downhill. I noticed the decline since chapter 3, but I feel it really steepened in 4 and 6 (Guarma didn’t happen). But back to Micah- you know he’s evil. The way he talks, the way he acts, his beliefs, you just KNOW that this guy isn’t who you’d want to come to your rescue (RIP SADIE). Micah did what he had to do to survive. He never had loyalty in mind, he has his own being in mind.

The Van Der Linde’s whole gang/family was so BASED on loyalty that people killed and died for the gang. Miss Grimshaw mentions killing another traitor. Molly (mistakenly assumed as a traitor) is killed because that’s how strongly they value loyalty. Loyalty (mostly to Dutch) was how the whole gang was founded.

Hosea had the same loyalty, but he actually cared about the people. I think Dutch only cared about the image. Hosea said that he cared for the people that died following Blackwater- that they mattered to him. He wanted closure. Dutch used their deaths as ammunition for his speeches. As a reason for the gang to keep on going. The only thing that set him apart from the O’Driscolls was the fact he cultivated the image that they were a family and that he might have cared. The O’Driscolls didn’t have the same loyalty to their members. When Kieran was captured they didn’t try to get him back. He said he was as good as dead if he wasn’t with the Van Der Linde’s. Dutch took Kieran in to set himself apart. The loyalty. The image.

Hosea kept Dutch in check. After Hosea died, Dutch couldn’t be kept in check. He didn’t have someone he valued highly who truly cared anymore. Micah took over Hosea’s place as the highly valued peer. Micah’s influence was never for the good of the gang- and that wasn’t a secret. Micah’s influence was for his own gain. But what I can’t get over is once Micah had that influence, Dutch didn’t care about anyone anymore. Especially towards the end. He used Eagle Flies, he left Arthur, left John (TWICE), didn’t care about the women, didn’t care about little Jack. Dutch cared about Tahiti. One last score. Reallllly messing with the Pinkertons. Getting the gang to safety wasn’t a priority. As I mentioned earlier- loyalty to Dutch was how the whole gang was founded- Dutch says something about John and Abigail and that women are poison. At the end, John was more concerned with Abigail and Jack rather than Dutch. He didn’t like that. Dutch didn’t like that John was more loyal to his FAMILY than him. He didn’t like that Arthur was more loyal to John than him. Micah, Bill and Javier didn’t have family available to have that stronger loyalty to. They had Dutch and only Dutch. I’m sure that Dutch also had beef with Hosea and Bessie; especially when they left.

But Dutch turned his back on John and Arthur- his sons. He raised them. When Susan was shot, he didn’t bat an eye. He loved her at some point. All these people he’s known for 20 ish years. Or the newer ones, that again, he either raised or feigned affection. And nothing. Turned his back.

FUCK DUTCH YOU BASTARD I HOPE HELL IS AS NICE AS TAHITI

[away-ward]

The horsemen have been around the block and have had their fair share of women. They didn't really treat girls in the most respectful manner, either. So given their past and knowing how guys can be, what kind of dads would they be to their teenage daughters once they start dating?

I find it rather funny that all of them are girl dads now, and honestly see a bit of karma coming their way. 😅

The Dads and Daughters and Dating -

Hey. You’re absolutely right that they’ve been around the block once or twice. Regarding their daughters, they might be irritated when the subject of dating comes up. But only because they think no one is good enough, not because their daughters are dating.

Kai, for his part, would be highly suspicious when Jett starts dating. Although he knows he taught Jett and all of the girls how to defend themselves from someone bigger and stronger than them - drilled that into their heads, he still wouldn't let just anyone date his daughter. He's already does background checks on all her friends, so the second he hears whispers of a date or a dance or a name that's more than friendly, he's already knows if he's okay with them or not. And people he's not okay with don't get to hang around Jett, so it's a moot point.

Damon's thankful Tavi is intimidating; that and Mads really cuts down on what he has to worry about. But if someone does manage to match how wild she is, he's confident that she will be able to keep them in line. And if something does happen, she's got four older brothers, a cousin that's already killed for her, and him. She'll be fine. He doesn't stress it.

Much.

In Fire Night, Michael comments that he didn’t raise Athos to accept “no” as an answer, even from him. Which indicates to me that he pushed her to go after what she wanted regardless of who was standing in front of her. Even though he’s complaining, he’s actually very proud. When Athos starts dating, he's much more likely to have a problem with who she picks and that she won't listen to his advice, rather than the fact that she's dating.

Will’s daughters also seem very comfortable voicing their thoughts and desires to their parents. They'll probably have the same confidence in a relationship. Most of the fandom headcanons that they'll eventually end up with a Torrance boy anyway, and Will would be fine with that. As long as they're happy and treated well, which he trusts them to do.

Overall, the Horsemen are confident in how they've raised their daughters, and expect them to know their value. They also know that as powerful men, they have the ability to make life difficult for anyone who causes their daughters any trouble. However, they've gone out of their way to make sure Thunder Bay knows their unspoken laws of respecting women. They fully expect them to be adhered to as long as they're around. Additionally, they've raised their sons to look out for the girls when they can't.

The dads are watchful of potential suitors, but they won't stop their daughters from dating. (side note: Unless it's an insane psycho criminal. I think Michael might have a problem with Athos dating Micah's sister... but this is dating in general.)

First, and this is might a hot take, I don’t know if I’d consider the boys to have always been disrespectful. Really, this idea assumes all the girls they had encounters with felt disrespected. This interpretation comes from the idea that all girls want to be somebody’s special someone, which isn’t always the case; some girls just want to casually hook-up and would prefer a guy that doesn’t want them to stick around. Or that the guys took advantage of a girl misunderstanding or that they unwillingly put girls and women in positions they truly didn't want to be in. Not to say that all girls got what they wanted, but to say that the boys were intentionally deceitful across the board would be an overstatement.

For the most part, I think the guys were pretty up front about their intentions with girls, and specifically selected girls that would meet them on that level, instead of going with just any girl. I think they probably avoided the ones that would try to cling to the idea of something more between them.

Also, the narrative of the story makes it a point to separate the Horsemen from boys like Ethan and Miles Anderson, who very clearly did abuse and take advantage of women. Further, in the Thunder Bay short story, the Horsemen go out of their way to save Alice’s step-brother because he was willing to end the team when he realized what they’d done.

All signs indicated that the guys had at least some respect for women, and expected others to rise to do the same.

(also, the whole point of their part in the thunder bay short was that they had seen how the boys at tbp had started to abuse girls, and then got involved to clean it up in preparation for their daughters. the message being the guys aren't going to just allow boys who don't get it to thrive in thunder bay)

Anyone in Thunder Bay would be aware of the reputation these men have. The whole town still seems to treat them as if they’re kings. The dads would probably rely a lot on their status to ensure their daughters are respected just the same. They want the very best for their girls and for them to be free to experience the great things world has to offer. These girls were not raised to tolerate being used as objects, or to feel shamed for going after what they want. At the same time, they're also creating in environment where boys know the difference between being open and honest, and using and abusing someone.

Moving on, we do get some indication of how each man will raise their daughter. In Fire Night, Damon and Kai argue over it, with Kai wanting to create a space where women will be protected so his daughter will feel safe, and Damon wanting to raise a daughter that could protect herself because the world would never be safe enough.

I mean, of course any father that loves his daughter is going to be anxious for they daughter to experience disappointment and heartbreak. And it may happen once or twice, but I don’t think any of these dads would go to war over it. They may hate the boy or girl who made their daughter cry, but that’s just part of growing up, and they’ll help their daughter deal with it (unless you count some petty revenge. I can see them sinking the car of a boy that broke their daughter's heart in the river, or otherwise generally inconveniencing them until they left for college.)

Don’t discount their sons, either. Damon mentions how his boys are constantly helping their mother, indicating that they’re raising their boys to be aware of when she needs help and offering it freely. I think this is something they’d carry into their personal romances, and would probably have the same standard for any relationship their cousin, sister, and whatever they consider Indie and Finn to be, gets into. The fathers probably have no issue using their sons to send a heavy message.

Please feel free to share your thoughts!!

[g12xxx]

Love is blind live reunion review:

Netflix needs to take a BIG L and they deserve to get dragged all over social media.

• love Brett and Tiffany, they look so happy. They needed more screen time in this reunion and they only got asked one or two questions.

• Kwame and Chelsea are still together. Umm I did like that kwame apologised to Chelsea and her family. I’m glad that they bought up the pool scene but they should of bought up kwame and Micah’s conversation at Chelsea’s birthday. At least he took accountability

• The best part of this reunion were Zack and Bliss calling irina out. Zack to Irina “ if we’re real, you went on this show to get famous” ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ he told the truth. I love that Bliss and zack always defend each other and that they took the high road by forgiving irina.

• When Irina was starting to ‘cry’ and the audience was laughing 😭🤣☠️☠️. Her and Micah should have called Andrew.

• Irina’s apology was something. Like pick a struggle Irina. I’m not even surprised that she started using mental health as an excuse of treating people horribly. I will give credit where it’s due to Vanessa for calling her out as well. I will also give irina credit for showing up at the reunion. The fact that she even dm’d bliss to say she dodged a bullet, seriously she has no shame.

• loved Bliss’s response to irina. She just classy and her face when irina was saying how she loved bliss and Zack relationship lol

• The energy that Vanessa had for Paul and marshall should have gone Micah and Jackie. She had so much grace for them then the men

•The only person that called micah out was Zack and to be quiet honest the mvp of this reunion because Nick and Vanessa are horrible hosts.

• Vanessa was so annoying. She asked Paul what he meant about the nurturing comment. He explains himself and I understood on what he was saying but she kept going at him repeatedly just SHUT UP!! Vanessa’s bias was showing

• I’m glad that Zack came to Paul’s defence. Zack was about say what micah had said in the car regarding Paul and Vanessa cuts him off ,REALLY!!! 😒

• The fact that Micah’s friends especially Shelby wasn’t even called out is a joke.

• Jackie and Josh 🤡.Jackie was on social media talking about how she has all this receipts and that she will bring them at the reunion. Well she didn’t even show up. Vanessa was not asking the questions that need to be answered at all. Just playing bestie’s with Jackie. Marshall facial expression killed me 😂

• Jackie’s excuse regarding the ring girl please, it’s all bullshit. How sad must you be to still keep the ring a year later. When Josh was talking I didn’t care.

•When Vanessa said to Marshall if he had considered Jackie’ s feelings I’m like REALLY!! what about his feelings they weren’t considered as well. There was no follow up regarding text messages and Jackie being homophobic but Marshall apologised regarding him saying that Jackie had a strong jawline. Vanessa didn’t care she already chose a side.

• Vanessa asking the cast when they are going to have a baby was unnecessary, awkward and mind your business.They only been married for a year. Then she was talking about her ovaries, please just SHUT UP nobody cares.

• I don’t who the idiot was that thought that showing Bartiste in this reunion was good idea because it wasn’t. Lauren and Cameron would of been better option.

• I liked the clips of 3 married couples hanging around together. It was lovely to see. Zack singing to Bliss 😂😂😂 Bliss loves it, they are so in love.

Cut truth or drink from 3 married couples (YouTube) was more entertaining than the reunion and that says a lot.

Nick and Vanessa cannot host another reunion, they are terrible. Love is blind Brazil have a better hosts and reunions. Lots of questions not asked and they should of let the audience ask questions. Micah and Jackie should have been held accountable for their behaviour, not given them a free pass. It’s funny that Zack was the only one that called out Micah but not the hosts of this show 🤦🏽‍♀️.

[line-of-fire]

Here’s a fun fact for the night.

So, as a general ‘au-wide’ rule, Pixie has minimal trust for officers until give a reason otherwise. It’s a little different for the ‘main’ au of course, and it’s the least severe there. And then the Commander verse it’s because she just knows what other officers can be like.

But in the Dead Fae Walking verse?

There is a definitive point of ignition for her hatred and distrust of officers. A single person to blame for it. And his name is Micah J. Pearson.

He had been Pixie’s CO in a previous unit, before the formation of TF-PATRIOT where they were both original, founding members. But TF-PATRIOT was the first time he was really ‘off the leash’ for long periods of time out in the field. He started playing fast and loose with the rules of engagement, but Pixie still followed his command for the most part.

It wasn’t until she was tasked with leading a patrol mission that would’ve been suicide from an intel standpoint. Something she made crystal clear to Pearson, flat out refusing orders. She was accused of insubordination, but the mission was cancelled before it even began, and the TF was instead tasked with guarding a small FOB in the area.

Things went to shit on that detail however, and Pixie was caught in an explosion and taken captive when the FOB was attacked. And instead of really searching for her, or any remains, Pearson called off the search after a few hours when the dust had cleared, claiming that he had found and taken care of her body, declaring her KIA.

Except of course, she wasn’t killed, and she spent the next year in custody being tortured for information she didn’t have, as fuel for propaganda.

It wasn’t hard for her to figure out what had happened exactly when she finally escaped and started working with the CIA, learned the ‘official’ story. Figure out that she had been intentionally abandoned because she fought against unlawful orders that would’ve gotten her soldiers killed.

She doesn’t even know the worst of it either- that Pearson himself was the one to kill her brother to keep the truth about her fate from getting out. Just to save his own hide.

She hates the man with every fiber of her being. But it isn’t worth it to her to actively search him out for revenge. After all, it wouldn’t change anything, and as far as she knows, she was the only one whose life he destroyed. But if she knew that he had been the one to pull the trigger of the gun that killed her brother?

Revenge would be the only thing on her mind until Pearson knew a fraction of the pain he had put her through.

[talesfromasnarkylisa]

Lacey: Chapter 17

Lacy’s Diaries (August 19, 2023)

Dear Diary,

Archer J is the most clueless smart guy I have ever met. Sure, he’s intelligent with books and computers and math. But when it comes to flirting? Horrendous.

This afternoon, he DM’d me on Discord what was apparently supposed to be a black philosophy cat to go with my math bunny. Not as in “a cat into Africa related sociology,” but just a black cat that was a philosopher. I found the premise inherently absurd already. 

But it didn’t end there. When he sent the message, he failed to include an image that would have gone with it. Without the existence of an accompanying emoji, I had no way to rate the creation beside my own pre-existing impressions. 

Ultimately, I ended up just telling him I rated it a 0/0 because there was nothing to rate as far as I was concerned. “Just pure narrow blankness,” as I texted. He responded by simply writing “whatever.” 

I still don’t have the cat picture, by the way. I’m honestly not really expecting it. This is the guy that claimed the editors of Music Refined would be a-ok with beta readers like him and I tampering with a writer’s draft to increase their chances of acceptance. Honestly, why did I bail Archer out anyway?

There, Dr Green. I vented about a former idol’s negative qualities today!

Talking about publications, Music Refined has been giving me practically zero work to do these past few days. It’s strange, really. They’ve piled on draft upon draft on draft ever since I became a beta reader until about 4 days ago. Then…nothing. 

It’s been great for freeing up time. I’ve upped my pre-university studying more and managed to hang out with Dina and Otto more - not to mention I’ve gotten to actually participate in the group chat Artsy and Lovergirl made. But good God, it sometimes feels like Music Refined only bothered to remember me because of the Oscar Winters fiasco.

Anyways, remember how I was worried about Lovergirl being a bitch earlier? Well, she’s not. In fact, she’s the furthest you could get from that. She’s cute and kind and funny. She knows how to torture me with brainteasers. Oh yeah, she’s also fucking brilliant when it comes to writing free verse. This girl is just amazing.

As for Writer’s Delight, I got an article published there about the different types of love. I was definitely not involved in the social aspect there, though. 10 minutes after my piece got published, Lovergirl sent me this in the group chat: 

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:21 PM): So…what kind of love is your favorite, @/laceyhannah, since you wrote about it? ;)

Lacey Hannah (08/19/23, 7:23 PM): All of them except agape. That one just gives lowkey toxic doormat vibes.

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:24 PM): I see where you’re coming from.

Lacey Hannah (08/19/23, 7:26 PM): Honestly, I’ve only really had friendship and some family all my life when it comes to loved ones. My crushes have always been pretty one-sided.

I felt like a bit of a liar to say my crushes were never reciprocated. There was a guy named Ray back when I had the fixer who I sorta liked that had a real thing for me, and Archer might have liked me at some point. But 1: I was just friends with Ray and thought he looked unusually nice at most. 2: Archer clearly doesn’t give 2 shits about me anymore if he ever did.

I messaged both Artsy and Lovergirl about my recent lack of work to do Music Refined-wise. Lovergirl told me that I should probably wait it out, as they might remember me later on and I get a break in the meantime. Artsy, however, gave me some rather different advice.

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:30 PM): Actually, I don’t think messaging Theodore or Tate would do much harm. But I wouldn’t go for Micah if I were you.

No shit, I thought. Micah would metaphorically kill me if I did.

Once I finished drafting up an email to send to either Theodore or Tate or both (I hadn’t decided yet), I returned to Discord to a pile of messages in the medium girlies group chat which Artsy, Lovergirl, and I used to converse with each other. 

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:36 PM): You’ve gotta be kidding me right now, Carol.

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:37 PM): What?

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:38 PM): Why in the world would you want Lacey to get herself into trouble with the editors for whining?

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:40 PM): It’s not whining if she politely asks the ones that aren’t Micah.

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:41 PM): She’s a newbie. And not with a typical background or look either for fancier publications like Music Refined. You know how harsh they could be on her. Remember Priya and Robert?

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:43 PM): That’s different. Those two were a volatile couple and tried to kill each other!

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:45 PM): It’s shaken up several people’s perceptions about community minorities since last year! The recent writer's startup and financial scams certainly haven’t helped either.

I was confused about the background and minority part, so I decided to ask them about that in addition to whether I should have contacted Theodore or Tate. That second part was ignored at first.

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:47 PM): You see…uh…Medium and adjacent spaces kinda have what you could either call a hierarchy or set of cliques. You’re familiar with the free starter pubs, right?

Lacey Hannah (08/19/23, 7:48 PM): I’ve written for Storytime before, so yeah.

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:50 PM): Yes, and you’ve also written for Writer’s Delight. It’s another one of those - if bigger and thus slightly more prestigious. These kinds of publications are the easiest when it comes to getting your pieces accepted at first. But because they accept almost anything and everything, their editors get so overwhelmed that they sometimes fail to purge the more questionable stuff. That’s how you end up with horrible relationship advice and borderline scam promotion coming from their writers. 

Lacey Hannah (08/19/23, 7:52 PM): What about warning the editors nicely if they miss something?

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:53 PM): You’ll be fine there as long as you don’t piss off Jonathan or Alfred. I would recommend biting your tongue unless something really bad comes up.

Lacey Hannah (08/19/23, 7:54 PM): Ok then. 

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:56 PM): More prestigious publications are those like Music Refined and Destigmatize - as well as most social justice and humor pubs. They’re harder to get into and some charge for membership. On one hand, this does allow for more quality control. On the other…the editors tend to be sort of stuck-up. If you’ve heard the rumors of the Writer’s Delight editors randomly rejecting articles for asinine reasons when they are otherwise pretty open, the editors of more prestigious publications are like that turned up to 11. Also, except for the social justice pubs, they tend to weed out a lot of things focusing on stuff which may not appeal to their rather Western audiences.

Artsy Carolina (08/19/23, 7:57 PM): Oh yeah, don’t forget about the actual news publications with Medium versions like The Conversation. Betty, do you know anything about them?

Lovergirl (08/19/23, 7:58 PM): I did get interviewed by one once. But no, not really. I’m usually just targeted by the weirdos at Newsbreak when it comes to “news.”

All this conversation and I still had no idea if emailing Tate or Theodore. Once I asked, they actually agreed I should email both. 

So I did.

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1504319300-lacey-chapter-17)

[hellmouth-manor]

The Ropes have been Unbound || Miranda || Final

“Thanks, both of you.”

She nods to Raoul and Minami. Though she still has to get used to being back in her old body again, now with one less eye, she still has something to accomplish. Miranda pushes herself away from Micah’s body once she’s satisfied their work is done. She stands in front of their captor, proud and firm despite her still bleeding wound.

Eleven years she’s denied herself any attack out of fear of the monster inside her. But her soul is back in her, and the rage she’s been shoving aside can no longer be ignored.

He killed her best friend. He’s responsible for all of them being here.

He is not responsible for what she is, no matter what he says. Nor is he, really, responsible for what she became here.

She came to him for advice, of course, but her own heart led her here. Now she just has to open it up to others, and open it to him, and they’ll be home.

♪♪♪

The funniest part is that she can find a good memory with anyone, even the people she doesn’t really like, if she can just dig around. She holds her soul out in front of her, the feral beast that it is already itching for a fight.

Even as much as she’s not a “forgive and forget” person, she’s still extended plenty of patience towards Yukiko. The stuff with “Cassandra” was fake, but the duets are real. The times at the Christmas party are real. The shared moments in their nightmare room are real. They’re both less bitter, they’re both happier, they’re both...changed. They’ll be different from now on. It’s like Yukiko said: they’re going to burn this place to the ground.

She never got along well with Arisa, but she can still find memories of making drinks with her, of gossiping about stupid stuff before everything went down, of dancing together, and dealing with the fact that the world kept kicking them while they were down. There’s something she relates to there, and she thinks that at the very least it counts as a virtue that she kept trying to relate with her. She’s happy that they’ve both found whatever will make them happy, and that definitely counts.

Exploring the dungeons with Nike, even when that meant having to pull them out of a trap. Why did they all keep stepping in traps? The fact that the first time they sat down when Nike stopped being Nikephoras, they told her they wanted to punch a demon, and Miranda got to witness that actually happening. It’s so cool. She thinks he’s so cool. Nike poking at her bad eating habits and talking about their sports. 

That first night, months ago, with Hibiki, quietly talking almost-honestly in a way she knows was rare for them both, at least back then. The anger of ‘why us’ and the fear of just wanting to go home, and the fear and comfort the night sky brought them. That first slightest drop of her mask as she let the smallest amount of weakness peak through without a fear that it would be used against her.

There’s Cu with the Sloth alliance. His determination and the good times the three of them could spend when they weren’t be bothered by trials and murder. They had fun on Micah’s shoulders, and he was still their Mothman, freak tendencies or not.

Making pancakes for her and Kamiya while they talked about their family – the people who actually did care about them even in the face of plenty of people who didn’t. Riding the rollercoaster and hanging around in the mall and then, somehow, stealing their souls back like real actual heroes.

Touji handing her that dropout notice without a care in the world, not even bothering to snoop on one of the worst decisions she made (or the best, maybe? Would she have still ended up here if not for that?) Him giving her tips in baseball until she could knock a home run, the fun they had in the club. She still has that picture from the rollercoaster, even if he looks waaaay better than she does. It was nice to pretend to be normal, wasn’t it?

Two truths and a lie with Eli, talking about how they wanted to be perceived, about how they wanted to survive. And now, despite her fears for him, he’s managed to survive this absolute cesspool. He’s carried so much strength in him that she never even realized he had.

Raoul’s speech about choosing to be kind, and the way that effected her and how she is now, how even a monster still had to find room for kindness. The time spent in the mall and in their little demon lounge, and how he has, despite his tendency to hideous suits, become something of an inspiration for her in how strong his heart has stayed through it all.

Maybe the most objectively virtuous moment was saving Olwin’s life. Pushing past her fears to stitch and unstitch, trying to act like neither was a huge deal and failing to completely swallow her pride in front of him. Cheering him on in karaoke while they figured out what they were going to do after the show – they aren’t going to have to take jobs with demons, thank god. They get to have their own lives now.

Her and Hisashi both exchanging their fun little tragic prizes and the conversations that came with them. Trying to ask him questions she figured nobody else had asked – trying to give him the space to not be treated like a spectacle and instead just as much a victim of fucked up circumstances as she is. Admitting emotions she wasn’t used to admitting or feeling, letting herself be just a bit more vulnerable than she ever had been at that point. Really, somehow, she’s still ended up letting him see more than most people here, probably because she just couldn’t help but relate to him since the start. But they’ve done it. That void is gone, or at least smaller, and they’ve filled it up with fucked up but wonderful people (and good choreography).

Quiet chats late at night or early in the morning with Mirai, almost too peaceful for as awful as this hellhole is. She’s been rooting for Mirai since day one, always trying to be supportive of her whether it’s something as small as a dodgeball game or as grand as insisting she was a much more powerful bird than a chicken. Their agreement to be friends as they slowly gathered more and more – it’s hard to believe either of them was ever friendless. She hopes Mirai can see that flower field – she’ll have to bring her some flowers sometime.

Those chats with Minami – maybe it should count as a virtue for Minami’s sake that the other woman managed to get her to eat something in that kitchen besides a depression meal of chips and dip. But beyond that, Minami was one of the first people to try and coax her into being herself.  No more suppressing the sad or ugly parts – just let them drift like cigarette smoke up the vents (and god, she was done smoking cigs after this. That couldn’t fill the void either). No more hiding her fears because she needed to be strong and perfect to take care of others – she knows now that she can rely on people and be relied on.

Ruby might be the most surprising of all of her friendships. Not because it doesn’t make sense, but because it happened so fast that she can’t quite tell where it started. Miranda had exchanged a gentle hand to her what feels like ages ago, when the other girl was spiraling. It wasn’t pure selflessness, she knows. It was because she related to her – playing to a crowd, putting on a mask, thinking people wouldn’t like you if they saw the real you. And they were both so wrong it makes her eyes well up. She stayed by her side through a fear motive and a murder, and she promised her she’d be there whenever she needed her. They had wondered why the people running this game would do this. Miranda threw out the idea that they were lonely, but they both knew they’d never get a real answer unless they could talk to the mastermind. While not true at the time, it seems real now. Alou would never have a friend like Ruby, not anymore.

Poppy doesn’t make sense on paper. The two of them, other than a love of birdwatching, couldn’t be more different. She used to be scared of them, almost. Thought Alou could do better than this strange monster who threatened and growled so easily. Stupid. There’s a lesson learned: never judge a book by its cover. Poppy is actually kind and smart and looks out for their loved ones. They pushed her to forgive herself for her greatest sins and to focus on the here and now. The present that mattered and the people their sins led them to meet. They kept plenty of drinks ready to go and they took her birdwatching and they play games with her and they saved her life literally minutes ago. And she’d have done the same, in a heartbeat. Poppy had seemed so determined to stay in Hell...but she’s going to make sure they walk out of here. She’s going to make sure they’re happy, no matter how long that takes. They’ll both find better in life than being useful.

Wakako had been someone she bonded with from day one, despite her hesitance. When Alou had killed her, Miranda had freaked out, felt too scared that she would never be a good friend. She thought Wakako was better off without her. But that wasn’t true, and the other woman had practically dragged her into friendship. One of her first friends here. It baffled Miranda at the time that someone would know how awful she is and still want to stay, but she can’t regret it. All of their times together, talking about how hopeless the world could feel and all the dreams they had anyway. They’re going to find their own spot of happiness in the world, and they won’t let anyone make them feel pointless again.

She had been so suspicious of Miori for reasons that were objectively justified. She had been playing them all, hadn’t she? But somehow when she dropped the mask, Miranda had bonded with her more than ever. Maybe once there’s no more masks, it’s just easier to trust each other. She liked to think that as much as Miori was a fucking refuge of normalcy for her, Miranda could be the same for her. They had their little book club and their little chats by the pool and teasing each other about their feelings. And then, despite a literal murder, Miranda had stayed by her side and believed in her even when Miori refused to believe in herself. She always prided herself on the ability to cut people out of her life as soon as they were too much trouble. But Miori is her friend, and no matter how bad they both are, Miranda knows now that there’s so much good in them and around them. They’re not the monsters they told themselves they were.

And then, of course, there’s her very first friend here. Before he’s anything else, Shoji is her best friend. He’s the kindest person here, too kind. He coaxed her into letting her walls down and opening herself to more friendships. It’s pretty clear he succeeded. Even when she didn’t believe in herself, he did. They stayed strong together through it all. She patched him up through bruises and tears, held his hand whenever he was afraid. Cooked things he loved and things he didn’t, just to see him smile. Let herself be selfish and allowed herself to be loved by someone as good as him without the fear that how awful she was would scare him away. As easy as it would have been to think they’d never get out of here, she held onto that small little hope, just for him. He’s always been the brightest light in the middle of Hell. And she’s going to flower in that sunshine as long as he’ll let her.

With every thought, a glowing and thorny vine slithers down from her soul, spreading around at her feet. Each vine wraps around another, over and over again, reaching up in tangled knots until they form a shape twice her size.

She had been so scared of wolves for half her life, but now she simply smirks at the form her soul has taken. Yeah, this might as well be what that growling creature would choose. It couldn’t be a bird like she’d want it to be, huh? That’s fine. Wolves are loyal, and strong, and powerful. They look out for their pack. She’s accepted she’s a monster and she’s accepted that the fangs are a part of her. They just have to be put to good use.

“Just one more thing, girl.”

She turns to the beast now lassoed onto the floor.

She had tried to understand him the best she could. They had poured as much as they could towards each other – she trusted him with her fears and her hopes alike. He had given her so much wonderful advice that she tried to take to heart. He had also given her advice that, in hindsight, was always going to lead up to all of this. Before his reveal, she’d have valued his happiness as much as anyone else’s here.

Now?

Now their time together is nothing more than the dahlias blooming along the thorns, petals falling off as she gives a signal for her to attack.

The wolf charges at the tangled man, grabbing at the tail sticking out. She pulls firmly, claws digging into the floor as she does her best to yank it off – it’s easier when he can’t wiggle free. Slowly but surely it starts to tear off. It’s probably painful, but Miranda doesn’t have it in her to wince. With all of the wolf’s might and with a shake of her head it goes flying off to a corner of the room.

Satisfied, she comes trailing back to her owner, tail wagging. Miranda pets her head, before finding a safe place to lean and bleed.

“Nice work, team.”

[theodoranowak]

Snorting, Theo shoots Saul a look. “I would bet loving to argue with you comes with the territory,” she tells him. At his confession to not knowing if even Micah himself would know what makes him happy, Theodora hums. She can understand that, she thinks. She’s not sure she’s happy, most of the time. She thinks it’s a byproduct of the world they were raised in — not knowing what’s enough, even when they may have reached the threshold. Though she can’t exactly speak for what Micah’s thinking, or feeling. He’d always spent far more time with the Lowensteins than he did with the Weissbergs, and Theodora was more of the latter’s family friend than the former. She thinks — almost hopes, really, for his sake — there may have been some key differences, then, in their upbringings. Especially knowing about Saul’s fleeting role in Micah’s life. She loves the man, she does, and she knows he loves Micah, but that certainly could not have helped the kid’s psyche. Hindsight is 20/20. “Have you asked him what makes him happy?” She looks at him, raising an eyebrow. “Without, you know, circumventing the question.”

Sucking her teeth, Theodora gives Saul a once-over. “Hm, I don’t know,” she makes a face. “Your jokes were funny when I was twelve. I’ve yet to see evidence that that’s still the case,” she winks. “Maybe you should do a stand-up set. Saul Weissberg’s tight five, featuring the sound of his exhausted brain cell ping ponging in his head,” she quips. She tilts her head innocently at him, fluttering her eyelashes. “I bet that would kill with the divorcee crowd.”

Theo sighs dramatically. “We are very beautiful, it’s true,” she smiles at him. “I suppose our curse could be worse. We could have been rich in the south,” she eyes him closely. “You’d look hilarious as a rich cowboy, by the way.” He then shifts his focus onto Sam, and Theodora can’t do much else but pick nervously at her cuticles. She thinks they may start bleeding soon — and as much as she’d like to stop, she can’t find it in herself to do so. Kid or not his kid. She grimaces. “I don’t know what it means,” she answers him honestly. “I didn’t — really stick around to hear him out about it. I intend to, eventually,” she admits to him, a little sheepishly. “But I just — it was too much all at once, you know?” 

She snorts at his offer to kick his ass or sue him. Despite the ridiculousness of the thought, she appreciates it. Saul could have done what most men do — remain neutral in a situation like this, despite the hurt one may have caused the other — but instead he’s here, offering to take Sam down for something, even if he has to make it up. She feels the affection for her friend swell tenfold. “I appreciate the sentiment,” she tells him honestly. “But let’s put a pin in the ass-kicking and the litigation, for now. At least until I get more answers,” she adds, then jokes, “Then we can revisit one or the other.”

Theodora sighs fancifully. “No one will ever be Deacon Edwards,” she teases. She’d been a fan of Deacon before she’d been his friend, and has, for years now, been rumored to be the man’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. Never mind the fact that he’s gay, though Deacon doesn’t do much to dispel the rumors. He lives off of fueling them, actually. She’s had friends ask her if they’re dating, due to his antics. “Sorry. I know you two have a Thing,” she waves it off, since neither of them will tell her much more than I hate him now. She supposes it’s to do with the divorce, but, well — with Saul and Deacon? Anything goes. “You’re not bad, though, I’ll give you that,” she smiles, making her way off the cart and back onto the course to take her turn. Her swing is precise, the shot linear. She points off toward the distance as she looks back at Saul proudly. “And I didn’t even have to be drunk,” she skips back to the cart, leaning against the hood and nodding over at the sight of the beer cart headed toward them. “Don’t go overboard. I’m quite fond of your liver.”

“mm, and i’ve grown sensitive in my old age.” the truth was that micah was probably an excellent comedian, but saul wasn’t ready to confront micah’s unfiltered thoughts just yet. though he might tell them to an audience in a humorous way, micah was a wordsmith (when he chose to speak to his father) and he had his mother’s special talent of cutting right to the bone with perfectly placed vituperation. saul’s ego was vast in size, but easily crumbled by those he loved; let opposing counsel or some ex-girlfriend say whatever they wanted, it wouldn’t mean shit to him. 

at the question of micah’s happiness as a lawyer, saul grimaced slightly. “well, he certainly loves to argue with me, but…” it was different to bicker with family than argue a point in front of a judge. “i don’t know. i don’t know if micah knows what would make him happy.” as someone that was born a twin and constantly compared to his brother, he hated to put levi’s son gideon and micah up against each other; despite sharing dna and having been born almost a week apart, they were two different men and they had coped differently. lived differently. being the sons of fraternal twins born days apart didn’t make them twins, though it used to feel like it did. gideon was a published author that had his debut novel on the best-sellers list for weeks; micah was just now finishing up law school and working for his dad. it seemed like the other difference between the cousins were their mothers, so maybe that’s why their paths had divulged so greatly. it was certainly easier to blame micah’s problems on his maternal lineage and not on how badly saul had failed him throughout his life.

saul gasped loudly, mouth dropping in faux-offense. “i am still very funny, thank you. my mother tells me so all the time.” saul jokingly defended himself, though he truly believed he was absolutely hilarious. his clients loved his personality and he had a swath of friends from blue harbor to manhattan and many places in between. his gregariousness was probably the best thing about him. he had ease with crowds and never felt more in his element than when he was entertaining the room at a party of his peers. a trait that seemingly did not get passed down to his son.

“cursed with money and good looks, maybe.” he countered playfully, brows waggling. however, the mirth in his demeanor depleted quickly as she mentioned her ex, sam harrison. his eyes widened. “you saw sam?” he parroted in disbelief. now it was official: blue harbor was cursed. a spawning ground for bitter regrets and past mistakes. saul and theodora were being haunted by living ghosts apparently. how else could it be explained that their exes all found themselves in the same town some way or another? maybe she was right. the curse was on them, not the midwestern town, though he somehow doubted the same would’ve happened if he relocated to denver or carmel-by-the-sea; perhaps he’d only have to contend with one ex-wife sharing his zip code instead of all three.

“kid or not his kid… what does that mean exactly?” he was interested as a family law attorney and as theodora’s friend. though he was a notorious gossip, there were some people he refused to speak on—theodora was right on top of the list, which made for some frosty conversations at brunches and galas where people wanted the latest update on theodora’s relationship. her secrets would always be safe with him, and by extension, sam’s. “do you want me to go kick his ass? or sue him for… something? i’ll think of something.” saul could play the protective big brother role any day for her, but he had actually liked samuel when they had dated years ago. they weren’t golfing buddies or anything, but he saw her ex at holiday parties and at lunch with theo. he seemed a completely affable guy—which was why it was so surprising that he pulled such a disappearing act on her. 

“professional fantasies! hey, i’m no deacon edwards, but i’m not bad.” saul narrowed his eyes at her as he threw the cart into drive and moseyed down the path along the fairway. invoking his ex-brother-in-law’s name was something he usually avoided, but deacon had been the only professional golfer he had known, so else did he have to compare himself to? besides, this was a leisurely activity. keeping score defeated the purpose of leisure!

[tinyfishtits]

Okay okay okay— not sure how much you care for Amos, but I care for Amos and Micah and love hearing people’s interpretations of them: their childhood, their history, childhood memories they shared, what split them apart, If Micah still cares for Amos all these years later, etc.

This is my first time sending in an ask that could be turned into a brief drabble so I don’t know how this goes, but, feel free to just word vomit your thoughts. Bullet points or written out, anything works, all would make me super happy.

Ever since I heard Micah talk about his family by the campfire in chapter 2 and say this about Amos; 

“What kind of man lives by the SEA? Hm? I ASK YOU! Huh? HUH? The kind of man that gets told where to live by his wife. (insert the most adorably deranged giggling) Ain't no woman never told me nothin’, apart from ‘Make yourself scarce!’ And that suits me about fine…” 

But he says the last And that suits me about fine… in such a dejected, sad lil way and drifts off into silence I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT 😩

Okay but my biggest Bell family headcanon is that they were so Winchester coded when they were all together. Micah being the oldest took after his dad and the ‘family business’ and even though he loves Amos he grew to resent him for not only being, how he puts it, a “spineless coward” but because he most likely had to teach and care for him while his dad was busy finding leads on new jobs or just drinking himself into oblivion. 

Micah needs risk, excitement and challenge in his life. And the fact that his little brother was SO wildly different from him// compassionate, cried the first time Micah had him shoot a rabbit. Empathetic, tried to comfort Micah after his father beat him (which I guarantee he was abused -  Held under a way harsher lens than his brother) longed for something more. Amos probably wanted to be a tradesman of some sort, can see him having been OBSESSED with trains when he was little and always wanting to stop and watch them go by, pestering Micah to please please please take the train to the next town instead of riding there. // 

His difference was probably a big disappointment to Micah, but even more so because I think he truly loved and cared for his brother and didn’t want to see him broken the way he was. He pushed him away, mocked and belittled him both because Micah can’t admit he wants those things because he so deeply believes he doesnt deserve them… His father deluded him into thinking there was strength in solitude. And it was his way of telling Amos he wasn’t fit for the life they led, to get the fuck out while he still could. 

In the end, I think it brings Micah a lot of closure to hear Amos made it out and has a family, i like to think the man even shed a tear reading that letter, thinking of the little boy that cried when he killed a rabbit even though they’d been starving for weeks. The boy he practically raised by himself. Thinking of him happy. UGH. 

Also i love the name Amos??? Like what are you, a cookie? it’s SO CUTE! Anyway… Thanks for indulging me in a lil Micah/Amos rant. I love them and I love you for asking about them thank you Meeks!!! BOUNUS REC: Purl_30 writes Micah so well and has a few pre-gang bell fics, one in particular - and the entire reason I fell in love with this damn gunslinger in the first place - is The Survivor ! Amos and Micah Bell II are characters in this fic as well. It’s personally canon for me as Micah’s origin HIGHLY RECOMMEND !!

<3

[the-magicians-blue]

5:13pm

DID SOMEONE ASK FOR MICAH YUJIN CONTENT??? I mean no not directly to me but I’m doing it anyway he’s hot leave me alone

Micah has always teetered between being flirtatious and easily getting flustered. Normally he manages to get the upper hand but there’s one instance where there was no winning and you never let him live it down.

It was about three months into your relationship and you hand came up to him randomly with a question he never thought you’d ask him.

“Hey is there a particular pet name you want me to use? You always call me angel it’s weird that we’ve been together this long and I either call you Micah or dumbass…”

If he was honest he low key thought dumbass was your pet name for him and he gladly accepted it because he knew it was purely out of love but he said he didn’t have one in mind and that you could choose whatever name you wanted for him. He didn’t realize how much danger that suggestion put him in until it was too late.

Every day you tried a different pet name for him. At first he didn’t think it would phase him too much but once you started doing it without warning his heart couldn’t take it. The first time you called him baby he swore his heart stopped. It didn’t help that you’d start playing coy when he’d ask you to take it easy on him.

“What? You said I can choose your pet name. i gotta test my options here.”

“Yeah but I don’t think my heart can take all these tests…”

In reality you were just trying to see which name would fluster him the most but it wouldn’t be any fun if he knew that.

After a few days you finally found the perfect name. It was mid day and you’d finally finished up your work for the day. When you got back to your home Micah was in the kitchen making something quick to snack on. He turned to look at you when you walked in and smiled.

“You’re home! I misses ya angel~”

You gently caressed his face and smiles before pecking his cheek.

“I missed you too my pretty boy.”

He froze in his spot. He wasn’t sure which part was making him short circuit more, the fact that you called him pretty or the fact that you’re so blatantly calling him yours. He face was burning as he was processing what you just called him and to make matters worse his brain decided the best course of action was to run and hide in the bathroom. He was even more embarrassed as he heard your cackling from behind him. He just couldn’t take it. The way you looked at him, the way it rolled off your tongue so sweetly, like that had always been his name. He was your pretty boy and he couldn’t take how much he liked it.

Of course you had to add salt to the wound by knocking on the door to tease him more.

“Whats wrong Micah? You don’t like the pet name? I happen to really like it! I mean, you’re very pretty, and definitely mine I don’t see the issue.”

He ended up darting out of the bathroom to pull you into a hug and bury you into his chest, anything to get you to stop making his heart race like it was. Before he’d have to fight you just to admit you thought he was cute or to tell him you like him. He doesn’t know when you started becoming this bold and open about how you feel about him but he isn’t sure if he can take it. Don’t get him wrong he loves it but he’s not sure his poor heart can take the heart attacks you’ve been giving him.

“Angel, you’re trying to kill me aren’t you? My poor heart is gonna give out with how much you’re making it race…”

Now a days you call him that name at random just to see him freeze and blush. He can’t help it, something about you claiming him like that just sends him reeling. And of course every time he does you take that chance to tease him, asking if he needs to go to the bathroom.

[kirain]

I started playing rdr2 but stopped because like idk but I can't seem to get over the fact that all the women are prostitutes and they don't really have any important roles. Like what's Abigail do? Ooh she's a mother who's always mad? What do the other women do? Oooh they sleep with the gang. What's Sadie do? Oooh she becomes a badly written femme fetale who suddenly becomes a flawless killer. The women are just so badly represented.

I get the feeling you didn't play the game naturally or see any random encounters, because none of what you said is true. There's a lot to unpack here, so let's start with the "all the women are prostitutes" comment.

First of all, none of the women are prostitutes, a fact that deeply irritates Micah. During a coach robbery where he rides with Arthur and Bill, he even says, “Why the hell do we need a gaggle of girls who won’t even fuck you if you put a gun to their head? Is it too much to ask considering they get a piece of every damn dollar I bring in?” Poor baby. He even tries to proposition all of the women (Grimshaw included), but they all insult him and send him running with his tail between his legs. It’s hilarious and I love it. Arthur also responds to Micah with, “Everyone does their share. I don’t see you lifting a finger around camp.”

Now a bit about the girls:

Mary-Beth was a skilled pickpocket, but she ended up being caught by a group of her victims. She mentions this during a conversation with Arthur, where she points out how hard it was for women who came from nothing, and the inequality of it all. RDR2 actually regularly highlights how difficult frontier/outlaw life was for women back then, often pulling zero punches. While fleeing her pursuers, Mary-Beth luckily ran into Hosea, who helped her escape and welcomed her to the gang. You can see Dutch lusting after her a few times, because he's an old pervert, but she always shuns his advances. She was never a prostitute and she was actually underage when she joined.

Tilly was a child outlaw and a member of the Forman gang from the age of twelve. She ended up killing the leader's cousin because he [as is heavily implied] tried to rape her. She was around sixteen at the time and tried to return to her mother after the ordeal, but she unfortunately passed away while Tilly was running with the Formans. Out of options, she eventually joined the van der Linde gang after Dutch saved her from some unspecified trouble. You can find most of this out during one of my favourite side missions, where she gets kidnapped by Anthony Foreman in retaliation for killing his cousin. With Grimshaw’s help, you can rescue Tilly and put an end to it once and for all. She was never a prostitute and was also underage when taken in.

Susan Grimshaw was one of the original members of the gang and one of Dutch's first lovers. They parted amicably and both fell in love with other people (Dutch with Annabelle, and Susan with a doctor who sadly ended up dying), but she stayed with the gang because of their mutual respect for each other. She later became the arbiter of the camp and a kind of surrogate mother to Arthur, John, and the other girls. She was never a prostitute, but rather a rough-and-tumble outlaw.

Karen is a little more complicated. Overall, she was a scam artist (Hosea even called her an “actress”) who sometimes lured men into brothels, then stole from them or picked their brains for leads. That doesn't necessarily mean she was a prostitute; however, it just means she used sex as a manipulation tactic. Out of all the women in the group, she was the freest and most unconventional. She also stood on guard duty and participated in heists. The only man she ever slept with in game was Sean, and his death absolutely devastated her. If you talk to her or observe her interactions, you also discover she’s a raging alcoholic suffering from some very deep-seated issues. She likely did have to do things she wasn’t proud of in order to survive, but in my opinion that makes her one of the most realistic members of the group. She was never described as a prostitute.

Molly was an aristocrat who left her family to be with Dutch. His abusive treatment eventually led her to suffer an identity crisis, where she ended up hysterical and heartbroken. Her story is sad, but she was never a prostitute. If anything, Molly is the best example we have that Dutch views people as items, not human beings.

Abigail is the only prostitute in the game, but by the events of RDR2 she's an ex-prostitute. To say she's nothing more than "a mother who's always mad", I feel, does her character a great disservice. First of all, she left that profession behind to raise her son, to give him a decent chance in life. Unlike John, she stepped up immediately to become a responsible adult. I don't think people realise how impressive that is because, one, she could've easily abandoned Jack at the roadside (which was common back then), two, she could've induced an abortion, and three, she was quite young when she had him; around nineteen years old.

You say the women are "poorly represented", but they're stronger, smarter, and more mature than most of the men. A few of them even become self-sufficient in the turn of the century, something dear old Dutch couldn't even do/accept. Abigail in particular helps Sadie mourn her husband and the two grow very close. Their interactions are both grounded and heartwarming, with Abigail telling Sadie she’ll suffer the loss of her husband, but that it’ll get better if she keeps on living. She takes care of her, and Sadie later returns that kindness. These women are so full of quirks and humour and personality, I don’t know how you missed it.

As for Sadie ... where do I even begin? Badly written? Femme fatale? Flawless killer? Sadie is one of the best written characters. She's not flawless, she's exceptionally flawed, temperamental, and traumatised. It's never expressly stated, but it's implied at several points throughout the game that she was repeatedly assaulted while the O'Driscolls kept her captive. At first, she's petrified and miserable, to the point that all she does is cry and express suicidal ideation. Then, she gets angry. Very angry. Having nothing left to live for, her home and husband torn from her grasp, she throws herself headfirst into danger, which almost gets her killed on a number of occasions.

She's not a "flawless killer", she's a messy killer. She's not an expert death-dealer, and that's made evident from the start -- but she was a hunter who shared the workload with her husband, so it's not as if her skills just magically appeared. You do see how much it weighs on her, however, near the end of chapter six. If you help her kill the rest of the O'Driscolls, she laments what she's become because she thinks her husband would be horrified. She’s extremely complex and struggles between mourning and moving on.

I also can't help but laugh at the "femme fatale" accusation, because Sadie actually defeminises herself, which is understandable considering the hell she’s suffered. She even wears men's clothing, which wasn't illegal [anymore] back then, but it was openly frowned upon. Femme fatales use their beauty and sexuality to their advantage, ensnaring men with their feminine wiles. Sadie never does that and fights side-by-side with the boys. Interestingly enough, that's partially why Calamity Jane, an actual historical figure, garnered so much attention, because of how she behaved/dressed. It’s pretty clear to me that Rockstar might’ve used her as inspiration for Sadie. This was a real woman who lived from 1852 to 1903.

In addition, Sadie plays one of the most important roles, yet she does so without falling into the category of a Mary-Sue. She saves the gang and moves them to a new location when the Pinkertons attack Shady Belle. She hatches the plan that frees John from prison. She helps Arthur rescue Abigail after she gets kidnapped. She tracks down Micah and puts an end to his reign of terror. But most of what she does she accomplishes with a partner--Arthur or John--both of whom she respects immensely. No one, not even Arthur, does everything alone, and when they do there’s usually negative consequences. It's the camaraderie and shared experiences that make these characters successful, and aside from Charles and Hosea, I’d even argue that the women are more well-rounded and fleshed out than the men.

I gather from for comments that you didn't finish the game, so I hate to spoil it, but I kind of have to if you walked away with this mindset. The women of RDR2 are a force to be reckoned with.

[arthurcxllahan]

Besides Arthur, everyone else made it back to camp without hiccough. Bill Williamson had already found the drink and John had found another tongue-lashing from Abigail.

They left the girl out of the way so she didn’t get under anyone's feet. Miss Grimshaw complained that they didn’t need another useless girl for her to babysit. But Arthur laughed and assured her that Aya was just a little problem he was dealing with.

‘A little problem? I hear the rough, tough Arthur Morgan let a little girl get one over on him.’ Micah leaned in, chewing something pungent. ‘Again.’

Arthur grimaced in disgust and shoved Micah out of his face. ‘She’s tied, ain’t she?’

‘Not without the Mexican’s help, she ain’t.’ Micah offered Arthur a bottle. ‘But we’re a /family/, ain’t we, Morgan? A win for one of the boys is a win for all of us.’

Arthur ignored Micah’s offered drink and grabbed his own from the crate. ‘How much have you bought in today, Micah?’ He struck the bottle on the table's edge, the cap flying off. ‘Because I ain’t seen your name in the ledger for months.’

Micah’s faux friendliness slipped and he bared his blackened teeth. ‘You know that ain’t an accurate portrayal of the facts, Morgan.’

Arthur leaned in and snarled at him. ‘Now who’s lying?’ He grabbed a second bottle and left Micah seething.

Arthur greeted everyone as he passed on his way to the girl. ‘And here I was coming to take your order.’ Arthur stood before Aya, sipping his beer while the other dangled from his other hand. ‘You know, a lot of the boys are pissed you cost us two payloads.’

He crouched in front of her, squinting at her through the darkness. ‘If you were a man, I could have shot you or fed you to a gator.’ He cracked an amused smile. He was no crazy sadist. He just did what he had to. And killing little girls wasn’t one of them.

‘You want this beer?’ He held the sealed bottle up to her. ‘You tell us where you keep your haul. We might even let you go.’

Lying on the back of a horse after all - additionally covered in mud to boot - Aya could do nothing but give the two of them her angriest look, which they of course ignored. A shame.

It took quite a while until they finally arrived at said camp sometime in the afternoon and finally lifted her off the horse. Still full of anger and annoyed, she had to let herself be placed on a tree stump, from where she had to watch as the returned gang members calmly stretched their limbs first and took a sip of water.

Still tied with a thick rope, she felt the mud already soaking into her clothes.

"You won't be able to do anything to me if you let me starve and die of thirst," she let out defiantly, frowning so hard her forehead hurt.

[its-deputy-caleb]

can i request something about a reader complaining about saving micah in strawberry even though they secretly love him or are crushing on him? thanks!

ahh i know i've written this before but i love it and i'm feeling extra emotional today so i wanted some soft angsty micah after a bad day

———————————————————

“What the fuck is this?!”

Arthur had just thrown your gun belt and revolver on top of the dominos you were playing with, leaning over the wooden table with both hands. Your close friend stared at you with a confident grin on his face as he chuckled.

“Need you to go on a little house call for me… think of it as repayment for me helping ya out with that robbery last month.”

You sighed playfully, dropping the last of the dominoes in your hand so you could pick up your revolver before you stood beside Arthur.

“Alright what’s this house call you want me to do?”

Arthur chuckled as he walked with you over to the ammunition wagon, helping you pick out some ammo and gun oil. It wasn’t like you needed to clean your revolvers, in fact they were spotless from how much you’d spent cleaning them— a habit you’d taken to from a certain gang member you’d spent more and more time with.

“Micah went and got himself arrested in Strawberry, Sheriff’s gonna hang him soon, reckon by the end of the week. Now if it were me I’d sit back with a whiskey and watch him swing but I know you two are close so I figured don’t I let you go and get him instead.”

You blushed as Arthur admitted to how you and Micah were something of a pair around camp. Not a couple but joined at the hip more often than most.

Much like Micah you were a quiet, more reserved member of the gang who wasn’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Sure, you weren’t nearly as mean and it’s why you got along with everyone in camp but you liked your space.

You were close with Arthur and John, had been for years as you joined the gang from a young age and grew up with the boys for much of your life. Despite all that they knew the kind of outlaw that you were, Arthur would ride with you any day, would share a whiskey but he never prodded into your private life.

When you met Micah the two of you clicked instantly. Sure he was antagonistic like he was to everyone but you never took his bullshit. He learnt to respect you and you found that you enjoyed each others company far greater than either of you two will ever admit.

After enough robberies and shared drinks together you started to catch the way you looked at Micah differently. That respect of a fellow outlaw morphed into feelings and you knew in some strange way that you cared about him.

The news of Micah’s most recent arrest in Strawberry was enough to have your stomach twisting with worry but you hid it behind a flustered laugh.

“Common Arthur, we’re not that close besides why would I wanna drag my ass all the way over to Strawberry just to save the one person who’s a pain in everyone’s ass.”

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and handed you a saddle bag full of ammunition, medical supplies and food rations.

“Deny it all ya want but I’ve seen you two laughing all night out on guard duty or sleepin’ on each other’s shoulders— don’t think we don’t all see it.”

Despite his teasing, Arthur helps you saddle up and leads your horse to the edge of camp.

“Now you’re truly seein’ things Morgan, you sure the frost didn’t get to your head in Colter?”

He laughs under his breath, passing the reins to you as he salutes you goodbye.

“Maybe so— now you take care and do well to keep safe, don’t go getting yourself killed for that rat!”

You wave goodbye in return, clicking your heels so your horse moved into a steady gallop as you started your journey to Strawberry.

—

What a goddamn mess Strawberry was. After using your last stick of dynamite to blast open the iron bars of Micah’s cell, all hell broke loose as he shot the O’Driscoll and then the onslaught of lawmen.

You whistled for your horse, ready to make a quick and speedy exit when you saw Micah running in the opposite direction.

“Micah where the fuck are you going!!?”

He ducked for cover behind a wooden barrel, using one of your revolvers to take out a lawmen on horseback who was blocking the exit of the bridge. Micah turned to look at you, winking as you took cover behind an adjacent barrel.

“Need to get a little something of mine sweetheart— won’t be leaving here without em.”

You could only guess Micah was talking about his revolvers, he only ever referred to them as people firstly and secondly this was the first time you’d seen him without them in his hands.

“You’re a pain in my ass you know that?”

“Yeah but yer love me nonetheless.”

He laughed, cold blooded as he took out two other lawmen and ran into a house a the edge of town. You didn’t get to comment on his run in with skinny as more of the law had shown up.

Micah had come tumbling out the door just in time to start shooting at the wave of moving, shooting targets. He spun his revolvers around his fingers, still finding time to pull tricks even as your lives were in danger.

You covered for him while he reloaded and he did the same for you. Together, the two of you did what you do best and took out enemy after enemy.

When you slipped in the mud, Micah caught your arm, holding you steady and looking concerned for a moment, only for a moment before continuing to shoot.

You barely made it out of there alive, the law having chased you for a lot longer than you would have liked before eventually making camp in a secluded area in the mountains.

“That was some fine shooting there Bell! I was almost impressed… Micah?”

You turned your horse around to look at Micah who didn’t make a sound. He was hunched over Baylock, one bloodied and bruised hand holding onto a wound on the side of his ribs. You jumped off your horse immediately, catching Micah as he practically fell off Baylock.

Dragging him as best you could, you threw a bedroll down for him to sit on before running to grab your satchel of medical supplies. God bless for Morgan’s packing.

Micah made a weak, pained sound when you returned, his breathing getting heavier as you cut away his shirt to clean the wound.

It was worse than you thought, the bullet grazed him but it was deep and there was lot of blood. He would need stitches for sure and possibly a miracle if it wasn’t to be infected or worse he’d bleed out.

“….You owe me a new shirt for that…”

Micah laughed through his pain although it was evident in his face that there was no way he could pretend it wasn’t affecting him.

“Chrissakes Micah who gives a shit about your shirt, if I don’t stop this bleeding you’ll—“

You couldn’t brining yourself to admit the reality of the situation, your own fear starting to show at the thought of not being able to save someone who you knew deep down that you loved.

Shaking your head you wiped down his wound, cleaning it as best you could before picking up a bottle of whiskey. His hand came to stop yours as he gave you a stubborn look.

“Just let me do this, you can whine all you want about it afterwards.”

Before Micah could protest further you poured half the bottle on his wound. Both of you winced at the pained sound he made and your free hand held his tightly, rubbing slow circles as he breathed through his teeth.

You spent the next few hours cleaning his wound and patching him up. Halfway through the stitches, Micah spoke up with a soft voice, his head hung and his face hiding under his hair.

“Didn’t think yer cared so much…”

Your hands stopped for a moment, lifting your head to look at Micah with concern. It was silent for a moment and you returned to your work on stitching him back up, waiting for him to elaborate.

“…yer looked so scared when yer thought I was gonna die… I’ve seen that look before but no one’s ever looked at me like that.”

Finishing the final stitch, you wrapped a bandage around his torso, your hand coming to lift his chin so he was looking at you. Your forehead rested against his and for the first time all day you both took a deep breath and let the tension and chaos leave you.

Your noses brushed against each other and neither of you said anything for a moment, the only sound was your thumb gently tucking his ear behind his face.

“Course I was scared— didn’t wanna lose you, not when— not when I love you as much as I do.”

Micah’s eyes opened as he looked at you, he was weary for a moment before kissing your cheek and resting his tired head on your shoulder. Your hands threaded through his dirty hair as you half sat on his lap, avoiding his injury. His head was tucked into your neck, tired breaths tickling your neck as he relaxed into you.

“Love you too sweetheart and I have for a long time.”

You smiled at Micah’s confession, rubbing circles on the back of his neck as you cuddled him closer and kissed his head. He eventually yawned and you both rolled over to lie against the bedroll on your sides.

He shuffled around for a moment, making sure he was sleeping on the side that wasn’t injured as you curled up next to him. Your hands threaded together and you tucked your head under his chin.

One of his arms wrapped protectively around you as you pressed your nose into his collarbone, noting underneath the heavy smells of gunpowder, whiskey and cigarettes was a softer smell which you could only describe as micah. His fingers traced soft patters on your shoulder as you both slowly nodded off into a decent sleep together, both of you thinking about being safe in each others arms.