#osheas

[myosotisbeee]

:(

[juliprairie]

molly 💔

[tokyasu]

violets are loyalty and premature death, meadowsweet is a futile death, forget-me-nots are memory, buttercups are vanity, weeping willow is unrequited love, nettle is pain, daisies are innocence, and roses are beauty, youth and love

[pizzaprotozoa]

More molly and dutch memes because fuck it we ball

[onlyloversleftonline]

Molly O’Shea leave that PIG and get w a real man (ME)

[bwucebaby]

thinking about arthur saying “I gave you all I had, in the end” and molly saying “I’ve nothing left, I gave you all.”

dutch really just took and took. they loved him entirely and he left them empty :((((((((

[citruscloudd]

[infectedgirlsss]

the only rdr people that matter

[beandraws]

Miss Molly O’Shea❤️ she’s so pretty 😭

[arch-aeology]

Finally got around to finishing this piece! If Molly O’Shea has no defenders, I am six feet under.

[mentally-ill-simp]

Everyone is like "oh Molly does nothing around camp"..ok and? Neither does Dutch and yall don't complain about him all that motherfucker does is sit on his ass and play pretend with some plan

[zanephillips]

OSHEA RUSSELL All the Queen's Men 2.04 "Mr. and Mrs. Money/Kill Bill"

[ak319]

Reader feels bad that Dutch doesn't treat Molly right, so she leaves little gifts on her cot and somehow convinces Arthur to take them out for a girls day.

Arthur follows 20 feet behind them with the most menacing look so no one bothers the girls all day.

As a thank you (and for their entertainment), they take him to a bar and get him tipsy as hell

🌹anon

Warnings/MDNI: fluff, sparkles and more fluff?! 😭 I don't condone drinking. Reader doesn't drink, arthur does. The beautiful molly pic by erin on pin.

┆ ⤿ ❀ m.list

It began with little things. A dainty ivory comb left on Molly's cot. A pressed flower tucked into her journal. A spool of ribbon; pale lilac and silk-soft, or even a plate of something hot and delicious, perhaps a new dessert recipe you learnt. You never said they were from you, but Molly wasn't a fool. Eventually, she caught your eye across camp and gave you the smallest smile she could manage.

"She don't got nobody lookin' out for her," you muttered to Arthur one evening, arms crossed while Molly sat alone by the fire, unreadable and quiet. "Dutch drags her around like a damn trophy and forgets her the moment his name stops echoing. The other girls don't talk to her, like she's too proud. That's a lonely way to live. I hate it Arthur! I hate him too!"

There you go again...

Arthur sighed. "Ain't my business what Dutch does with his mess of a relationship. You shouldn't worry yourself over it too, darlin'."

"Hey! She didn't sign up to be ignored. No woman does! No one deserves that" And stormed off.

As usual.

The next day, you told him plainly, "I'm taking Molly to Saint Denis for a girl's day. She needs it. I'll be nice, even do her hair. But I want you to come too. You know, just in case someone gets... brave. Y'know...like we are in this new place and don't know our way around town."

Arthur groaned. "You makin' me babysit now?"

You batted your lashes. "Only if...you are in the mood to... hold my hand when we cross streets."

He grumbled but inside he was...giggling. Without a word he scurried off to set the saddle up (hiding his blush) making you snort and run to inform Molly.

He didn't walk beside you, no. Arthur stayed a good twenty feet behind like a looming shadow, arms crossed, watching everyone with narrowed eyes and a hand always close to his holster. Any man who so much looked both your way turned right around and went back to sweeping dirt off a clean sidewalk.

Molly didn't notice right away, too caught up in the sugar-sweet perfume stalls and the lightness in her chest, like she hadn't had a real laugh in years. You were doing your best to spoil her, dragging her to window displays, tying silk scarves around her hair, daring her to try ridiculous hats, buying her trinkets, whispering wicked things that made her giggle behind her hand.

Arthur, meanwhile, stood outside every shop like a watchdog, hat pulled low, looking like he'd kill for a reason. Literally.

"'He's following us," Molly whispered.

"Yeah," you smirked, "like a puppy! But a menacing one."

"And patient unlike the others back there."

Eventually, after the fourth stall and third cup of lemonade, you turned to Arthur and grinned, "Come onnnn, big man. You earned yourself a drink."

He tried to say no. Really did. But one drink turned into three.

Three into five. Now Arthur was slumped in a booth between you and Molly, red-faced and grumbling into his whiskey.

"I can shoot the cork off that bottle from here," he says suddenly with confidence. You and Molly exchange a look.

Nope.

"Arthur, put the gun down," you say.

"I can! I done it before! I'll even close one eye-"

"And the saloon will throw you out like a sack of potatoes!"

He grumbles and holsters it again, muttering something about "no respect for art." But he wasn't done.

"I just think... horses are real special," he mumbles, looking at the wall with glossy eyes. "They never judge you. They just listen. Good ears, horses…"

You pat his arm gently, and he grips your hand like it's keeping him tethered to earth. "And you,"

Oh no...something is coming up---

He stood up and yelled "You're better than a horse, woman!" Making everyone look your way in silence.

You sigh, dragging him down by his coat sleeve as he tries to stand. "Arthur, sit your ass down."

Molly sighed dreamily. "That's the nicest thing I've heard a man ever say"

"Someone looks at her too long, I will shoot 'em," he adds, flopping back into the booth and grinning proudly. "Ain't that romance?"

You leaned over, draped your arm around his shoulder. "That's insanity and a crime and you're drunk, Morgan. Very bad. Tsk."

"Am...not." He looked between you both, frowning. "I'm observant. Sober. S'just...you two're plannin' somethin'. You conniving...beautiful women. Got schemes. I can... feel it". You and Molly were crying with laughter.

"...Well it was her who braided your horse's mane last week," Molly confessed, nudging him.

"I liked it," Arthur slurred. "She looked pretty. Real classy. Just like her...selwf."

Arthur hiccups and squints at Molly through bleary eyes , leaning in, with a conspiratorial look on his face.

"You know, Miss O'Shea..." he slurs, elbow on the table, chin in his palm. "Yer a fine woman. And very smart."

You and Molly glance at each other warily.

"But I gotta say..." Arthur blinks slow, like the thought takes effort. "...you coulda done so much better."

Molly nearly chokes on her drink. "O-h?"

"Yeah. (Y/N)'s...right about him. That man wears more pomade than a Saint Denis street girl. An' he talks too much. Like he's always tryin' to get someone to marry his voice."

Seeing you wheeze Arthur was encouraged and went on.

"Every time he opens his mouth, I hear violins in my head. An' not the good kind. The 'we're about to die in a shipwreck' kind."

Molly blinked, cracking a smile. "Arthur-"

"And y'know what else?" He leans in closer, whispering like he's telling a state secret. "I once saw him ironin' his goddamn scarves."

You slap the table. "NO. WAY!"

"I touched one. It was warm."

Molly stares at him in a stunned silence...contemplating over his words. And that look gives you hope. You felt proud. At least she's thinking about it. For her betterment.

Arthur frowns into his glass. "...You deserve a man who don't talk like he's narratin' a goddamn novel every time he opens his mouth."

Molly sipped her drink. "Wait are you about to cry, Mr.Morgan..."

"Oh yeah....aww.."

"Oh...Don't cry, Mr. Morgan, y'know what? I'll keep you words in mind." she cooed.

"Mhm. But 'm not cryin'... I'm just thinkin' real hard."

He was low-key...??pouting??

"(Y/N), you can't let your man cry--do something-" The red haired said between laughs while you shrugged chuckling yourself. "Whaddya want me to do!?"

Eventually, you and Molly kissed his cheeks, opposite sides. Arthur blinked. Then leaned on your shoulder like dead weight.

"You're both...too pretty. Don't tell Susan I said that.... And nice...to me. But...too much trouble."

"Good kind of trouble, no?" you murmured, ruffling his hair as he purred. "Yeah..."

He passed out ten minutes later.

The next morning, Arthur woke up in his cot with a headache the size of Saint Denis and glitter somehow on his eyelids.

You were humming softly beside him, fixing your braid and enjoying your morning (tea/coffee)

"…Did I cry last night?" he rasped.

You smirked. "Only a little. And somewhere in middle you talked about taking us to rob a...chocolate train? But thankfully we stopped you."

Arthur groaned into his hands.

"She had fun," you said gently. "...That's all I wanted. Thanks a lot."

Arthur peeked through his fingers. "...Y'think we could do it again sometime?"

You paused. "Wait...you sure? Really?!"

"Yeah, anything for you. If it makes you happy. And Ms. O'Shea too." he muttered. "Maybe next time I don't pass out." He kissed and pinched your cheek making you laugh.

"Deal!" You gleamed kissing his cheeks too.

tag list: @sensitivegamergirl

[tokyasu]

my beautiful wife

[gofficjewel]

some pics i took of molly on pc !!! using mods😛

i love her sm how did rockstar cut that beautiful outfit 🙁🙁

[onlyloversleftonline]

Molly and Dutch fleetwood mac joke