#At least in rdr2 there was some joy.

[unhingedlesbear]

…

I sure redded that dead

(I’m never going to be okay again.)

[keppa-nero]

RDR2 x Male! OC/Reader

Robbing Stagecoaches And Killing

Lawmen

🎅Have faith it gets better!!🎅

CHAPTER 1 - Colter

TW: Bad Language \ Death \ Violence \ Mentions of mental illnesses \ Blood (?) \ Animal deaths (not cruelty) \ Posible slurs

The way from our past hiding spot to what we hoped was going to be a successful ride, had ended up being longer than we expected.

Colter was the name of land we entered, an extremely cold weather zone with heavy snow and thick layers of ice even in spring.

–Abigail says she's dying, Dutch. – I heard Reverend say as he walked near our wagon, making me wake up from my tired daze. I sat up with a groan and disconnected from their conversation, taking in the trail up ahead us this time. We got caught into a heavy blizzard it seemed, my eyes getting dry enough to itch in the two seconds I have been conscious, but I could still see the rest of our gang's coaches marching behind ours.

Sitting correctly, I tried to accommodate myself between the gang's properties pressing on my back, since I myself had chosen to travel in the transport wagon, out of all. But seeing how many horses and people were traveling all together, honestly made anyone feel we'd get caught any second now by the law, even if it was difficult with this god damned weather.

–Keita! Tighten up the ropes back there, the mountain's headed down! – Hosea's voice called from the reins, my eyes darting to see we were getting into hard terrain. Still no signs of this weather calming down.

I nodded and hopped inside the wagon, securing everything from below, and shivered a bit at the difference in temperature inside here. How I missed being in the hot wild west.

When I came back out though, Arthur had finally appeared after separating from us to search for a good spot, ended up we had luck and found somewhere nice and warm to properly rest in.

"Thank goodness" I swear I could hear all of the women say in unison from the other coaches.

I let my boots fall to touch the cold ice covered ground, moving quick to not bother the path and grabbed onto the metal hold of the back of the wood to step in the other wagon behind me, sitting down with a heavy sigh next to the ladies. Tilly, Karen Mary-Beth and Molly. Anyone would realize how violently most shivered, holding themselves to not freeze on the spot.

"Y'all doing fine, girls?" I asked softly, knowing these circumstances were being hard to handle, and more with the pressure of knowing the law was behind our feet. I noticed Molly jumped a bit at my voice, smacking my arm on instance, she probably fell asleep on the way and didn't expect me here. Like anyone ever, like I'm always unwanted.

–I thought you didn't like sharing a place, Mr. Sepúlveda. – Tilly spoke from below her scarf, as I just nodded my head slightly, leaning my head back on the wooden wall of our transport.

"Yah... I don't, no, just figured out you ladies could do some chatting, honestly thought some of you froze or something from how quiet you were" I said lightheartedly, hearing Karen scoffing.

–Because we were in peace, until you came, mister. – Karen remarked yet with a smirk, making my smile fall off subtly but I chuckled anyway and nodded, keeping the small conversation going.

By the time we got to where Arthur has directed us to, everyone was too tired and cold to complain about space. We went direct to grab any space to stay warm and try to make of this place a proper camp.

It happened to be a long gone abandoned line of family cabins, as we supposed, where we now had a large cabin and three other sheds, even a stable too, something that brought at least a hint of joy knowing the horses could rest too.

We eventually all joined inside the bigger cabin, quickly bringing Davey in too and check if he still had a pulse.

–Davey's dead. – Abigail spoke directly after noticing he didn't respond to anything, his breathing was gone and his eyes were half open staring at nothing, making everyone near the sight squint their eyes in silence. I leaned against the doorframe, keeping the quiet all of us shared while Dutch went into a little speech to give us hope, finally sending all of us to do something to help, eventually.

I didn't get any order but knew what to do, since we needed to be quick and not have more losses now that we had a spot. I went to grab some wood, for the heaters and to help Pearson with the food.

I didn't walk much away from everyone else, just turning the mountain we had near and stopping by the river, where some strong looking pine trees stood untouched, up to me.

I still tried to keep facing towards the way I came from, though it was impossible for me to get lost as I was two steps away from everyone, I didn't care. I like being alone, but I do not like to go alone, they were two different things and for my brain the latter sounded like I was gonna die. It's what I constantly had on my mind.

My eyes fixed on the dark brown bark of the pine tree, taking the axe I had by my belt, tightening my hands around the handle and starting to swing. The sharp thick blade cut easily through bark, making the first hits easy until it went through wood, swinging back and forth, with every impact my arms vibrating along the weapon, my breath hitching everytime it happened.

Still, I didn't look anywhere else than what I was doing, as shadows kept appearing on the end of my eye and disappearing when I looked that way. It really felt like someone, or something, was right there, standing next to me and breathing on my neck.

I could swear I felt sweat starting to form on my palms and dripping down my neck even when there was probably negative degrees where I stood, my throat working by itself and swallowing where there wasn't even saliva, making it feel like I was being possessed. My mind was against me, and my physical body now too?

"Fuck-…" I swore under my breath when I jumped at a sudden noise, whipping my head around in panic just to see it was a pinecone that fell, next to the pile of snow that formed after I kept chopping down the tree. My eyes then narrowed as something really stung in my arm, letting my axe fall as I rolled up my sleeve, seeing a really long deep cut I made myself when I got spooked. I groaned, now my clothes were ragged too.

I squeezed my arm to let the stubborn blood fall down freely to the snow and staining it red, the same color my arm was now too. The pain now really shot up and I cursed myself yet again for being so incredibly fucking stupid I couldn't believe myself.

Realizing then that it'd be no help to complain, I rolled my sleeve back down and got back to swinging at the tree, feeling the blood soaking my dark grey coat with every movement.

"Tree!" I then yelled at, well, no one, when the wood started cracking and leaning forward, as I stepped out of the way to not get crushed to death, then left a sigh knowing I had to break it down into smaller pieces now.

While doing so, I swear I could hear a distant shooting and yelling on the either side of the mountain, but I tried to shrug it off as my imagination, it usually was just that. It took me a long good hour to finish cutting the trunk fully, putting it all in a spread cloth and hanging it over my shoulder to drag it back to camp. I left it by Pearson's place where he was stirring the usual stew, grabbing a plate for myself and humming him off when he thanked me for the spare fire wood.

I, for once, decided to eat it all right there instead of alone, since I felt way too... Watched, to go on my own for now. After checking my arm, realizing no way in hell we were prepared enough to stitch this up, I sucked it up once more and went to my supposedly assigned shed I've been told was mine, not with anyone, since I repeat; I just can't be with anyone and no one wants to be with me, I'm too paranoid for anyone to want me near.

Well this was wrong.

I opened the door quietly with my arm, looking inside and seeing my bedroll on the left side with my bag, a heater in the middle and a- A lady, sitting on the bed that was supposed to be mine. Of course I froze in my spot and just stared at her with widen eyes. I didn't recognize her at all, and she was looking at me with red puffy eyes and a hurt demeanor.

So as logically as any, my body reacted before me and slammed the door closed, rushing off to the large cabin and almost breaking the old door down in the process, attracting everyone's gaze towards me, looking confused, and then noticing my expression and went back to their thing. This was way too usual and it was getting tiring, I know.

–What's got you all nervous this time? – I heard Abigail suddenly say, being the only one to approach me in this state. Having a normal conversation now grounded me slightly.

"There was a-... Lady, in my room" I said quietly, now saying it out loud made it sound actually ridiculous without context. I looked up at her when she just snorted in laughter.

–Oh yeah, there is, she didn't bother you did she? Her name was, err, Sadie if I remember. – She spoke in her relaxed manner, making me ease up instantly, realizing it wasn't something only I 'saw'. She seemed to notice my confused look after she said so, and just waved her hand off dismissively. –Right, she's a widow that Dutch and the boys took in, she lost her husband to some O'Driscolls and her house burnt down. She got the luck of a worm, you surely wouldn't mind having her share a room with you, wouldn't ya Keita?-

I just let a little 'Oh', realizing just how wrong I got the situation. I nodded absent-mindedly and glanced around, seeing the women, Jack and Reverend resting inside, warming up by the heater.

"Speaking about them, where's Arthur?" I asked, it was very noticeable when Arthur wasn't around.

–Arthur, he went with Javier to look for John, hope he's okay, that damn idiot. – She said in an almost angered manner, probably gotten pissed over the simple thought of John, understandable really. I laughed a simple 'Heh' in a dissappointed manner, knowing I'd have to socialize first with someone that was now sleeping next to me.

My feet brought me into my now shared shed, closing the door behind me as I sat on my bedroll on the floor, putting my bag next to it and taking off my boots, just sitting there with my elbows on my knees, my gaze down. The whole thing was silent and painfully awkard, the only sound being the creaking of the wooden planks with each uncomfortable movement I made.

"Hey" I greeted first in what I tried to make a calm tone, realizing she wouldn't talk first. "They didn't tell me I was having a roommate... Not that I mind I mean, what was your name again?"

–Sadie... Sadie Adler. – She croaked out after some seconds of reading me fully, looking away, making me do so too noticing I was staring, in not a romantic or charming manner.

"Well I'm Keita... I won't get in any of your business if you don't want me to, you can ask me anything you need if you want, no problem with me..." Like I wasn't the one being all worked up over a simple 'Hello', this was my shed, damn.

She simply answered with a nod and a slight sniff, turning on the bed to most surely go to sleep, signaling no more interaction. I decided to do the same, laying on my back and covering myself with the thin cover, taking off my gloves and putting them with my other things for tomorrow, noticing they were slightly blood stained too. I just stared at the ceiling, my eyes feeling heavy and a sigh left my lips, finally dozing off.

...

"...- Shit- Ah! Ah! Fuck! Ah!" I woke up by some yelling, sitting up quickly with my breathing now heavy and my eyes looking around in panic, sweating cold.

"God... I hate my life..." I mumbled and fell back on my bedroll, passing a hand through my stubble. Great way to do first thing in the morning.

Well, I guess the lady I was sharing a room with also heard me or I've been like this for a while, from the blank spot on the bed.

Fuck... I need a cigarette.

END CHAPTER 1

AN: Y'ALL I FINALLY FINISHED 👹👹. Those weird things and all are all based on my own experiences so please don't drop comments saying it's not like reality at all. The following parts of this fanfic I'll try to make them more interesting, I just couldn't do much in Colter. Don't lose hope in me‼️

[pistolenprinz]

RDR2 CHARACTERS AS THE MAJOR ARCANA (PT. 1 OF MANY)

I've been really digging tarot lately, and finding a lot of comfort/joy indulging in the universe's energies, so I figured I would try my hand at assigning each of the main gang (with some exceptions) to one of the major arcana, as well as giving my personal interpretations of how it fits. Note: For this post, I've dipped into my own deck (Raven Rogue's Tarotorial), and will be pulling the imagery-specific elements from them. I will cite things as such "Insert text here [Source Name]." Regardless, the actual applications to the plotlines and characters is my own and is my opinion. To cut down on the length of these posts, I've privately paired up gang members that I either think provide a good foil for one another, or those that I just think pair well in terms of discussion. This section will be copy-pasted across all the posts in this series for sake of clarity.

ARTHUR MORGAN - THE HANGED MAN

The Hanged Man suggests ultimate surrender or suspension in time. Depicting a person hanging upside-down by their foot from the living world tree, the person is hanging by their own free will [Tarotorial; Card Imagery].

There are two choices that Arthur can make in the grand scheme of things: Try to right his wrongs, or lean into them and make them the problems of those around him. His loyalty to the Van der Linde gang is unquestionable, but it is what he chooses to do with that loyalty, and his power as one of the longest-standing members, that is important to his narrative. He can be a force for good, call out the harm his compatriots cause to themselves and those around him. He can also turn an eye to it all, and do solely what he needs to survive. To let his own greed fester and overcome him. Regardless of what ending is chosen, or what route Arthur takes (as that is something up to the player, at the end of the day), he undergoes a metamorphosis of undeniable measure. What it is he sacrifices, be it his morality or himself, it is something that others will not understand (the who seemingly shifting with the path chosen), and it is ultimately a path that he walks alone. A path that, at times, he expresses feels like he is either walking backward, or simply standing on as the world passes him by. He is the only one responsible for his actions, as we all are at the end of the day.

CHARLES SMITH - JUSTICE

The Justice card represents the cause and effects of action. Justice sits in a chair holding scales in their left hand, which implies intuition balancing logic. In their right hand is a double-edged sword, which is a symbol of impartiality [Tarotorial; Card Imagery].

Charles, to me, is such a push and pull character. One that is always seeking to do the right thing, all the while trying to balance the needs of the gang versus what he considers to be moral. He's newer to the gang, which only adds to the internal conflict and propels him toward someone like Arthur, as not only is Arthur a founding member, but he shares a similar moral scale to him usually (certain player actions aside). He, like Arthur, does try to be impartial. Likewise, he tries to see the best in the circumstances at hand, but like all scales, there are times when his morality outweighs that impartiality. The buffalo poachers, interactions with the Wapiti, choosing to side with Arthur in the end as he sees how selfishly motivated Dutch and Micah are, etc. He, like Justice, does sit in the background (at least in comparison to some of the others, on account of him being newer to the group's dynamic), but it is ultimately him who helps set the conclusion in motion. He makes a decision, weighing the pros and cons and trying to minimize the harm done to those he feels close with, and he sees it through.

[vanderlesbian]

javier as a girl dad too?🫶🏼

EEK my first request hai...... >_< of course i can write javier as a girl dad :3

** other rdr2 men as girl dads can be found here!!

masterlist

javier escuella

- javier would be so proud to be a father!! his daughter would be his pride and joy and he would do anything to protect her. the other members of the gang know not to mess with him or his daughter, especially after micah made a cruel comment that earned him a near broken nose and a week's worth of snarky comments from the entire gang.

- definitely speaks to his daughter in spanish; he would love teaching her the language. when he hears her babble her first words in spanish, javier will have the biggest smile on his face. he'll probably tell the others about it for at least a few days, too.

- he would sing her songs!! when she's little and comes to him woken up from a nightmare, javier will pick up his guitar and play her favorite song. oftentimes his singing will gather more of an audience, and other members will stick around to listen to the lullabies.

- on the topic of singing songs for his daughter, i think javier would write his own for her, too. whether or not he's the best lyricist, his song will be loved by his daughter regardless. as she grows older, javier would teach her how to play guitar, and she would request to learn how to play that song he made for her when she was little.

- ohhh he would have a spanish nickname for her. mariposa, chiquita, luna, flor—something cute that would stick with her for the rest of her life. as she gets older, she'd get a little embarrassed by it, but javier would be insistent on keeping the nicknames.

- javier would be such a playful dad! he wouldn't be hesitant to play any games with his daughter that others might call "too feminine"; if his daughter wants to have a tea party, he'll put his entire soul into his posh accent. javier will always make time to play with his daughter, and if he happens to be too busy, he'll promise her to play later and will keep that promise.

- javier's daughter would be an energetic and playful girl who's probably very flamboyant. she would be a real daddy's girl and the best thing that has ever happened to javier (aside from you, of course). i think she would also get some of her confident snarkiness from her dad too lol

[hunny-pp]

i realise i forgor to post this here but i made a chart w characters that inspired the characterisation of my tavs or have similar beats to them, which help me sort of explain them (theyre fun to make too, try it out) (obviously it goes without saying that some of the similarities apply to some chars shown but not all)

TEXT TRANSCRIPT: Dianthus's chart (ft Mirage and Ballistic (Apex Legends), Lee Dongsik (Beyond Evil), Kate Sharma (Bridgerton), Will Hunting (Good Will Hunting), Arthur Morgan (RDR2)

-(pointing at Mirage and Ballistic) oh i was inspired how these bitches make me grit my teeth w how much they talk (affectionate)

-repressed guilt, low self worth, fears of getting hurt buried under layers of wit, charm, snark, insanity and/or arrogance and abrasion

-at least three of these bitches have a "its not your fault" good will hunting catharsis/emotional journey (bitch one of them IS good will hunting) sos this character (dianthus) has it too

-being a smartass/asshole is both fun and a means of protection

Rhea's chart (ft Mercedes (FE3H), Gabriel/Jim (Good Omens S2), Stereotypical Barbie (Barbie), Mantis (MCU Guardians of the Galaxy), Mulan Rosé (NG), Erii Uesugi (Dragon Raja)

-airheaded but delightfully optimistic and sweet, but an underbelly of wisdom

-lack of social awareness bc they haven't rly experienced life but they stay silly :3

-a sense of individuality and self-actualisation, coupled w a sense of joy and whimsy and a love for a nuanced world - esp if they broke free from a place that was repressing them

-no thoughts, only :3

[comefeedtherainn]

tagged by love of my life @saltsanford thank u bb

How many works do you have on AO3? 27

What’s your total AO3 word count?

608,101

What fandoms do you write for?

this varies bc i revisit old fandoms often, atm im deep in the untamed and also working on drafting a sleuth of ming dynasty, might try guardian if the mood strikes. i also have wips i'd like to return to for mass effect, rdr2, and bioshock

What are your top five fics by kudos?

your darkest roads - the untamed (1,417)

scars and scratches - the untamed (1,307)

break of dawn - mass effect (865)

it starts with a lighthouse - bioshock (385)

here's a truth - IT (233)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i used to, i stopped recently because i got busy with grad school and cant always find the spoons lol i try to at least respond to questions, concerns, and also if i finish a fic!!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably a tie between sparks amidst snow and unseen, both very depressing character studies for the untamed. jin zixuan and lan xichen, respectively. you can understand where the angst came from lmao

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmmm probably break of dawn?? i like to write happy-ish endings esp for long things, just to reward the reader for sticking around for a long fic lol. but break of dawn ended with john and kaidan getting married, leaving the military, and getting a dog. so. absolutely the best case scenario and very happy lmao

Do you get hate on fics?

honestly not really. i got some on mass effect ones but that was more character hate which i shut down hard, rather than hate on the fic lol i either dont write much that's controversial, or i sell it well enough no one bitches lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i do! most of my longfics feature smut, i enjoy it in my romance

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i do occasionally, though not as much recently. i despise fusions though lmfaooo

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

if i have im not aware! lmao

Have you ever had a fic translated?

sadly no :c

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

i have not!! im a control fic idek if i'd like it if im honest lol

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

why would you ask me this. i have way too many favs but i do think tuckington of rvb and mshenko of mass effect will be with me foreverrrr

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i choose to believe i will finish all my WIPs, no matter how long it's been since i touched it!! if i start it i intend to finish.

What are your writing strengths?

dialogue and describing environments!! also plot.

What are your writing weaknesses?

pacinggggggg, and character arcs imo. i can do them and they turn out well if i try hard, but i do have to try really hard/do a lot of rereading and organizing

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

if im writing fic for a fandom that's not english-speaking, like the untamed, i will use words in mandarin if they are a proper noun/name of a place/etc. i also tend to keep it untranslated for titles and for diminutives/honorifics that lose meaning or impact when translated to english. that's it, though.

if i were to be writing a character liiiike james vega in mass effect who speaks spanglish occasionally, i'll be real sparing about it tbh. if i dont know someone who speaks a lot of spanglish or speak it myself, i'd rather just take it easy on that and not look like a dumbass/be offensive lol esp since with a property like mass effect it's really questionable if canon is even accurate lmao so you cant even go off of that

First fandom you wrote for?

starfox adventures dlgkhapodih yeah the gamecube rpg. best game ever btw

Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

this is so hard lmao but i think it's probably break of dawn. writing that fic was such a joy and the interaction with the fandom was something i haven't experienced since!!

if you read this, you're tagged!!!

[pegging-slenderman]

This is my first time writing for rdr2 and also my first time using this format so please don't judge

javier x a heavily pregnant reader im talking like extremely hormonal in a fuck load of pain just waiting to relise this crotch demon (set in shady belle) tw: spoilers about character deaths minor angst and details abt child birth

To say the least he would be really concerned for your and the baby's health

Would probably be asking some of the women around camp (like Abigail a miss Grimshaw) if it's normal for you to be pregnant for this long and still not give birth

They reassure him its ok and just tell him the best thing he can do is try and find some remedies that can induce labor

he rides out immediately to get said remedies because 1 he can't stand to see you in pain and 2 he can't wait any longer to meet his baby

Anytime he leaves camp he makes sure to give you and your belly a bunch of hugs and kisses beforehand

He hates going far from camp scared of missing his child's birth

When you guys had moved into the new camp duch gave you guys your own bedroom not wanting you to sleep on the ground

At night when you two are laying in bed he will wrap his arms around you feeling up your baby bumb

When the O'Driscolls raided the camp he pulled you into cover immediately making sure you were safe praying to whatever God out there that you didn't get hit by any bullets

Luckily Charles was taking cover behind a wagon right next to yall and helped him get you inside as fast as possible

Javier normally doesn't cry in front of people but his eyes were filled with tears once he held you his arms asking you " mi amor are you alright?! You didn't get hit did you? Please tell me our baby's okay!" Whilst holding his hands on your tummy

After you reassure him that you and the baby are okay he kisses your head and tells you to stay in cover while he gose helps the others

After the ramianing O'Driscolls run off and everyone Is going back outside looking at keirens dead body javier encourages you to stay inside

Mainly cause he's scared of anything else hurting you

He's pretty tense the next few days not wanting to be more then a foot away from you in fear for your life

Ofc the day he finally decides you can be out his sight safely is when you finally go into labor

As he's sitting by the edge of the alligator infested water all he hears is you scream In pain and he's jumping up running as fast as can towards you

Once he finds you your already being helped by miss Grimshaw into the tent she had set up specifically for when you gave birth

He followed in asking all sorts of questions until he was silenced by your yells of pain that's when just shut up and held your hand letting Ms Grimshaw take over striping you of your skirt and undergarments and placing a blanket over you

He felt stressed watching you in so much pain as birth was not exactly a fast 123 done type thing

You were in labor for 30 painful hours

You would squeeze his hand so hard his knuckles turn white

He would be trying his best to comfort in his native language you buy given your in labor trying to translate what's he saying is not top of your to do list "mi amor lo estas haciendo tan bien"(translation: my love you are doing so well) you just glare at him "either speak English or shut the hell up"

Once you finally give birth to a healthy baby girl javier Is crying tears of joy while holding his little angel in his arms smiling seeing you finally getting some peaceful rest

Oh any you know he is extremely protective of both you and the baby girl you decided to name Veronica after his late mother

The two of you have him wrapped around your fingers

When he was leaving to go rob the Saint Denise Bank he gave you a loving kiss and huge you and Veronica tightly "Los amo a los dos más que a nada en este mundo"(translation: I love you both more than anything in this world)

Ofc when he didn't return it worried you

You feared having to raise this baby on your own whilst mourning your husband

As Charles returned he informed everyone about hosea and Lenny's death and that everyone else escaped on a boat

All you could think about was javier

And all he could think of was you and Veronica pleading whilst being dragged by a donkey "¡por favor! Tengo esposa e hija"(translation: please! I have a wife and daughter)

When he had returned first thing you did when you saw him was jump into his arms crying "I thought you died!" He would hold you close "mi amor I would never leave you and Veronica "

He cried first time he held Veronica again much like he did when she was born

As yall moved camp to beaver hallow you two would have some arguments "you keep doing these goddamn suicide missions your going to leave our baby fatherless!!" He groaned "amor I don't have a choice I just want a better life for us!" You shook your head "yes because being a widowed mother is a better life!!"

One night he was holding Veronica rocking her to sleep and arthur walked up to him looking more sickly then ever

"Your a great father Javier "

"I know "he didn't even look at arther just his baby girl

"Look I get your loyal to duch but something bad is about to happen and I want you and your family safe when that goes down"

"What do you want me to do?! Go up and run with my wife and kid?! I have no money im wanted almost everywhere I go and I haven't know a life where I wasn't on the run since I was a teenager!"

Arthur reached in his coat and pulled out a stack of money placing it on the table in front of javier "just think about your family first "and walked away

The next night you and javier were packing up a wagon just a few more things then you two would get out of there

Arthur came over watching you two pack "I see you listened to my advice javier "

"I had to I can't keep my family at risk like this it's not how I want my daughter raised "javi said as he packed the last bag "thank you Arthur "

"Don't thank me" Arthur shook his head

You walked over and gave him a big hug "im gonna miss you the most. I'll make sure Veronica remembers her uncle Arthur "you smiled

Arthur just smiled and looked at Veronica "that girls gonna go far in life".he then looked at javier again "what are you waiting for get out of here before someone notices!"

Javier helped you get on the wagon then handed you Veronica before getting on himself taking the reines you waved at Arthur as you rode off

[1358456]

gah dayum... you ever feel like you're at a lost for words but you know that you have so much that needs to be said... no one... just me oh well because that's what im feeling right now because i literally shed tears of joy after discovering you were still alive!! happy to see u back, btw if u dont mind me asking what games have you've been playing recently? anyways since there's too much that needs to be said and not enough characters so im just gonna end it here by saying... "Live YOUR Life!!"

Aww, thank you so much! <3

In the past two months, I've been playing Red Dead Redemption 2 and XCOM 2. I never bothered with them when they first came out a LONG time ago, but I did play the first games, so I figured, why not, they're on sale (were).

RDR2... man, that game took a long time to finish. Loved it though. It was kind of annoying at times with how often I had to mash or hold the A button for a stupid amount of time. That really wears out the button on the cheaper controllers. And ahh, the epilogue. The peace, and happiness, and building the home and all that stuff, fully knowing that it all goes to hell in a few years in the first game. Hahaha... "How many times do I have to bury you, John Marston?" "Never! You're never burying me!"

XCOM 2... I remember not wanting to play it, since I played the first one, so I know that 85% chance to hit means that I'll miss three times in a row. It's like using Stone Edge or Rock Slide in Pokemon games. "Oh, Stone Edge. A powerful Rock type move that really complements with Earthquake, so I'll definitely use it, and... it never hits. Okay then, I'll use Rock Slide. Even if it's weaker, at least it's doing some damage. ... Okay, Rock Slide never hits either. Then back to Stone Edge because neither will ever hit anything anyways."

Anyways. XCOM 2 panned out the way I thought it would. Flanking an enemy, with the barrel of the gun practically touching him... and missed. And that kind of soldier is what I'm given? No wonder humanity was f*cked in that game. Do all my soldiers have the wall-eye syndrome, where their vision is like peering through the peephole on the doors? ... How do you miss turrets? They're literally stationary objects...

That said, I recently learned of an exploit that skips the enemy's turns. So... I definitely had to go through the game on the hardest difficulty setting to abuse the crap out of it. That said, certain enemies ignore that somehow, which was bullsh*t, but acceptable given what I was doing.

So anyways. That's what I've been playing recently.

[drakesdevils]

The Five Stages of Grief (Sam Drake x F!Reader)

Summary: Samuel Drake is dead to the world, stuck in a prison for a crime he did not commit for the rest of eternity.

PART TWO

(had to post them separate because Tumblr is a big bully)

Warnings: S*icidal thoughts, PTSD, imprisonment, violence

Uncharted Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader) Masterlist

A/N: I guess it has been some time lol. Wrote this because I’m forever angry at Naughty Dog for ghosting over the fact that Sam spent.. 13 years in prison.. also I don’t speak Spanish so these translations are probably a bit wonky.

I apologize this chapter is so lengthy! I can’t put a read more tab on mobile.

•••

Denial

Sam awoke in a small room, dazed and confused There were stone walls, a blaring light above him. It reeked of blood and sweat and every grossly humane thing in existence.

At first, panic set in, he thrashed and writhed and felt a burning pain in his stomach, like his insides were being torn apart. He heard yelling, he felt two sets of hands push him down, something pricked him.

And then he was out.

When he awoke again, he was in the same room. There was grogginess in him, like something had been shrouding his mind. He blinked a few times before he attempted to move again, only to realize he had been restrained. He struggled against the restraints, feeling that same burning in his stomach, the pain became unbearable.

He laid back onto the metal table and caught his breath, his shirt was bloodied. There was blood all over him. Was that his blood?

Oh god.

He remembered being shot, watching his brother lose the hope in his eyes, he felt the blood rise in his throat, and then he felt his bones crunch as he fell. And he remembered thinking of you, in a way he knew it would be his last thought. A glimmer of you in his jacket, smiling and beaming at him. And then it was over. Why wasn’t is over?

Oh god no.

Terror and shock rose in him, no no, this could not be happening. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to die when he fell. He was supposed to be six feet under by now.

No, this was Hell. He was being punished, and forced to live a life of pain. This was his personal punishment for a crime he did not commit.

“Ah, Mr. Drake, you are awake,” A voice said as the door opened in the bland room. There was a counter with ‘medical’ supplies next to it.

A man stepped into the room, a doctor?

“You broke your neck when you fell. You’re dead. We could not save you,” The man began. Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You are legally dead. Except of course, you are not. A man came looking for you by the way, we had to break the news to him,” The man teased him cruelly, a glimmer in his eye.

“Where is my brother?” Sam croaked out.

“Oh, long gone by now. We told him we found you dead. As far as the world knows, you are. I hope you enjoy prison, Samuel Drake,” The doctor cackled menacingly as he left Sam. Two guards entered, they took the restraints off of his arms and legs, they pulled him off the table roughly.

He wanted to fight back, he wanted to throw every punch their way and escape that hellhole. But there was no fight in him, his body was broken, everything in him felt like it was screaming.

They dragged him to his cell since he could not stand. He heard the catcalls and whistles from the other prisoners, freshmeat they cheered, a gringo too. Maybe they would rough him up a bit.

They threw him into the cold cell, he landed on his back and it knocked the wind from him, even if the air was burning and stuffy, there was no life in that prison, there was no happiness, no joy, no human emotion. There was only ruin.

He quickly lifted up his shirt and examined his wounds. A large bandage on his chest, he remembered feeling the blood enter his throat and suffocate him.

He remembered watching Nathan become heartbroken.

He remembered the fall.

No, this was not happening!

•••

Anger

The guards punished him brutally for killing one of their own. They beat him daily, they dragged him out of his cell, they made an example out of him even if he hadn’t done anything, they made a mockery out of him.

And the men followed suit too, they teased and threatened. He had to watch his back every waking hour. He could not let his guard down for even a second.

There was no one to help him, there was no one to save him. He was left alone in a foreign prison where he was hated, where he was starved and beaten. No men would talk to him, he was seen as a lesser being, someone to pick on.

A part of him began to hate the world too. He resented Nathan, for not trying to save him. He resented you for letting him go on this stupid trip. He had a life sentence, he was never getting out.

But most of all, he hated himself. He could not look in the dirty mirror, he would not talk to anyone, he let the guards beat him up. He did not fight back, but he watched his back. If someone were to sneak up on him, at least he would know it was coming.

He tried not to think, to not let his anger overcome him. He did not want to hate his baby brother and you, people who did not deserve such hatred. But he did think. He thought constantly, there was nothing to keep his mind off of it. He had no money to buy anything, no one to send him anything, no books, no entertainment. He was not allowed to get a prison job, the guards wanted to watch his every movement.

He saw red every hour of every day. He saw it every time he blinked. It was all around him, it was bubbling and pooling inside him. Sam wanted to punch the wall and scream, he wanted to lash out, he wanted every man in that prison dead. Sam wanted to scream at you and Nathan for abandoning him, for allowing him to live the rest of his life in prison. But there was no fight in him. There was no charm, no quips. A shitty slinged broken arm and healing bullet wounds, bruises all over his body and aching bones. There was no way he could fight. So he didn’t.

•••

Bargaining

Time passed slowly. Late at night when he watched the moon through the barred window in his cell, he wondered what would have happened if things had gone differently.

The only thing that brought him comfort was the thought of you. Even if what ifs were painful, a part of him was comforted by them. As he viewed the night sky, when the tropical storms rolled in, through the sweltering heat, especially then would it bring him comfort.

A life with you. Maybe he would have had his big break, found Avery’s treasure and never have to work another day in his life. He would be satisfied by his winnings and never want to go out and look for another. You and him could have been married, like he had promised, a small wedding that was beautiful, seeing you walk down the aisle in the dress you picked out, kissing you in front of everyone. Then you would have bought a grand home in Boston, lived out your thirties and then had kids, he would become the father he never had. Raised them right, they would become doctors or lawyers. And then you and him would truly retire, be old and frail together and one day it would end.

And it hurt to think that way. To want something so bad, but know it would never happen. To know that he would be stuck in this hellhole for eternity, suffering each and every day. Being subject to such abuse and horrors was something no innocent man should ever have to go through.

Remembering the anger he felt at you especially hurt. There was nothing you or Nathan could have done. He never wanted to think like that again, to imagine himself yelling at you, for screaming and arguing. He would never forgive himself for feeling that way.

Some nights he would wake up panting, thinking he had first woken up in the ‘doctors’ office again, that the clock had been reset. Some nights he woke up thinking he was in your arms again, he imagined you shushing him gently and lulling him back to sleep. Most nights he wished he didn’t wake up at all.

He wondered if you thought of him, if you had moved on, if you were living the white picket dream he didn’t think he wanted until now. What he wouldn’t give to be out and see you one more time, even if you had moved on, even if you were married to some other person, he wanted to see you once more. To look you in the eye and remember all that had happened, to know that he had come out on the other side.

But it was all foolish. He knew he was never getting out.

•••

Depression

“Sam?” A voice whispered into the cell. Armando.

“What?” He said groggily.

“Wake up. Dinner is in five minutes,” Armando said. He looked outside, it was still light out.

“Come on man, I’ll just buy from commissary later tonight,” He groaned, rolling back onto his stiff bed.

“Get up. I let you sleep and kept the other guards off your back. You have to eat, Samuel,” Armando pressed. The only guard who showed him kindness. Who smuggled books for him, who slipped him money every now and then, who convinced the guards to let him work on laundry duty to earn a few extra bucks. The guard he originally despised, who he thought was only trying to be nice to him so he could wait for Sam to slip up.

Sam simply let his eyes shut again.

“I have a present for you if you get up.”

“I don’t care,” Sam replied, nothing mattered to him anymore.

“I am sure you will like this one,” Armando continued.

“Fine,” Sam sighed, pulling himself out of his bed.

Armando unlocked the cell for him, he looked both ways to make sure no one was coming and shoved a book into his hand.

“No way!” Sam said surprised, looking down at the book.

“A General History of The Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates! You found it!” Sam spoke fervently, he could not quell his excitement.

“Shhhh,” He reminded Sam, looking around to make sure no one had heard him.

“Shit, sorry, but how the hell did you find it?” Sam said more quietly, flipping through the pages.

“Ah, simple really. The library got it shipped from another one. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case they couldn’t ship it,” Armando explained.

“Well shit, thank you. I have the other books in my cell so you can return them, let me grab them for you,” Sam replied, he didn’t want Armando having a hefty library late fee because of him.

He gathered the things in his small cell. Books about history, mostly non fiction, anything Armando could get his hands on that was in English.

He piled the books into Armando’s hands, hopefully no one would be suspicious if he managed to make it out quickly enough. Armando’s shift was ending in a few minutes.

Things were silent for a moment as Sam gathered his courage to ask Armando.

“Could.. could you send the letter to my brother? I slipped it in one of the pages of the book about the Renaissance,” Sam pleaded quietly.

Armando’s lips formed into a tight line as he contemplated it.

“I will see what I can do.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Armando, seriously, thank you so much,” Sam said sincerely. The only man in that prison who had his back.

•••

The warden called him into his office one night. The cruel man who was one of the ‘doctors’, the man who haunted his dreams. Sam was nervous, he could feel his hands shake.

“Samuel Drake,” The man said with a fake inviting tone, urging him to sit down. He sat with cockiness, his hands steepled as he watched him with hawk eyes.

Sam didn’t sit.

“I hear you have been attempting contact with your brother. This is against the rules, Samuel, you know this.”

Sam didn’t reply. He knew he was screwed.

“We will have to punish you. Solitary for three days.” The warden was taking joy in seeing Sam suffer.

Sam’s eyes widened, three goddamn days?!

“And a correctional activity with a few of our officers.” Sam knew what that meant.. a beating, a rough one. Outside the solitary confinement cells, they’d shackle him to the wall, beat him and throw him in the cell for three days.

“Where’s Armando?” Sam asked, letting his emotions not leak into his voice.

“Gone. You will never see him again.”

Fuck. Armando had been fired? All because he wanted to send a letter to Nathan.

The warden smiled at his silence.

“Goodbye, Samuel,” The warden dismissed him, he was nearly at the door. His entire body felt heavy.

“And if you ever try anything like this again, we will make a lesson out of you.”

He knew what that meant too.

•••

Just when things had started to look up, they had gone down again. Three days in solitary with a broken nose and black eye and split lip was not his favorite thing in the world. Not to mention his aching bones. The guards spat at him, pulled his hair, made fun of him, did everything to make him feel less than human. It didn’t work though, barely anything got through to him now. He had a devil may care attitude. It was better to.

He was thankful for the uninterrupted sleep even if it was on the concrete. Only time he got interrupted was when the guards would shove the shitty food to him.

It was maddening for him, to only hear silence when he was awake, to have his thoughts suffocate him. His life, wasted away in prison. Dead to the world and practically dead to himself, there was no reason for living.

Minutes ticked on, when he was sleeping he was trying to count how many times a fly in the cell touched a wall. He counted 473 times in the span of 68 hours. Eventually the fly died, or it escaped, he wasn’t sure because he was sleeping when the buzzing stopped.

The blood was caked on him, he could barely move, so he laid on the cold concrete and watched the fly bounce back and forth. He was losing track of time.

Most of his memories of his life prior to prison were blurred, he remembered how things went down, but people’s faces and voices were especially fuzzy. Like TV static, there was something there but he couldn’t quite see what.

He hated solitary, but it was better than being hit by the guards, teased in the prison yard, yelled at. Most days he liked being alone.

•••

Acceptance

“Pongan sus traseros en línea, muchachos. ¡Es la hora de cenar! Feliz Navidad,” The announcer said.

“Aye! Carlos! Sam!” Victor yelled across the chow hall. Sam and Carlos looked up at their friend.

“Merry Christmas friends. I just got off the phone with my girl. She told me she sent a package here, it should arrive in a couple days,” Victor said happily.

Carlos snickered, Sam eyed him as he shoveled food into his mouth. Christmas, the one day of the year where the guards weren’t awful and the food wasn’t as bad. It was still gloomy in the prison no matter the day, but at least the spirits were slightly up.

“Something funny, Carlos?” Victor narrowed his eyes at Carlos.

“Nothing. Just think it is funny you have your girlfriend sending you things. Why is she taking care of you? You’re the one who got in trouble.”

Victor rolled his eyes, “That’s funny, Carlos, real funny, seeing how you love to drop your pants for-“

“Knock it off you two,” Sam threatened, glaring at the two of them.

“I’ll give you something from the package, Sam since you are so nice to me, unlike this puta,” Victor said, gesturing towards Carlos.

“Sure thing,” Sam said. He knew Victor was just saying that.

“I wish I was with my family this Christmas. How many has it been? Two?” Carlos wondered.

“Been three for me,” Victor replied. “Sam?”

“I think nine. Or ten. I can’t remember, all of its blurring together.”

The air became somber. “One day we’ll all get out, brothers, we’ll be with our families on Christmas and get presents and eat all that good shit,” Victor began.

Sam didn’t want to hear any of this bullshit.

“I can’t even remember what my girlfriend sounded like. I haven’t heard her, or my brother in years, I don’t even know if they’re still around, so Christmas with them is kinda off the table for me,” Sam confessed solemnly. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about Christmas joy. He never was.

Victor and Carlos were silent, they looked at each other nervously. They knew his story, rumors passed around over the years. He had risen in the ranks of prison, he had more freedoms, the guards picked on him less, the men respected him more. He had even made a few friends.

“You’ll get out one of these days, you just have to hold on. I bet she’s waiting for you still, probably will be waiting on the bed for you with her legs op-” Carlos said.

Sam quickly cut him off, “Yeah.. I doubt it.”

•••

Reunion

The guards roughly pulled him out of his cell one day. He hadn’t gotten that type of treatment in a long time. He was surprised as they cuffed him and pushed him down the hallway. What the hell was going on?

“You guys mind telling me what we’re doing?” Sam asked as one of the guards pushed him down the hall.

“Just keep moving,” One of them ordered. They walked through the cell blocks, the loud chatter was deafening. There was a game of blackjack happening in the yard, he could see the big group of men gathered outside.

They were headed straight for the warden's office.

Shit. What the hell happened now?

They pushed him into the room. The warden stood stoically, looking out the window.

“You’re a free man, Samuel,” The warden spoke.

This had to be a joke. The warden was just fucking with him.

Sam snorted, “Okay.”

“10,000 it took. The man was insistent on us letting you go for a fair price,” The warden glanced back over at him. The man who first gave him the news of his life sentence and laughed in his face.

“You can stop with the bullshit now.”

“It’s not a lie, Samuel. You are a free man. You may leave now.” The warden turned to look at him. And then he knew it was true.

Sam could feel every heartbeat, he could feel the freedom flow in him. He could feel the shackles being torn off. He was free. How was this possible?

Sam stood frozen in his spot.

“Leave,” The warden barked. Sam scrambled quickly and left.

This was happening. It was really happening.

There was no paperwork he needed to fill out since he was not registered. Victor and Carlos both got out a year ago, there were no needs for goodbyes.

The guards let him outside. It all felt like a dream, like he would wake up inside solitary again. He felt like he was floating, like every step was another one closer to the heavens.

He heard the buzzer go off, he felt the vibrations in his bones.

Who was waiting for him? Who bailed him out?

As he walked through the gates, he was officially a free man. Liberty rushed in his veins. That first breath of freedom was exhilarating, there was no stench of the prison, it was simply fresh and clean air.

Rafe. Rafe goddamn Adler stood by his sleek black car. Was that this year's model? So much had changed..

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Glad to see you’re alive, and somewhat well,” Rafe smiled, brushing Sam’s shoulder off.

“Where’s Nathan?” Sam asked.

“No thank you? Thirteen years go by and you would think he would be a little more appreciative. You know Sam, you’re starting to sound a little ungrateful.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be grateful when I know my brother is well.”

“Fine. I assumed as much. He’s doing well, retired, living the white picket dream as far as I know.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

“And Y/N?” A part of him was afraid to know.. he had wondered for so long. But he was scared too, he felt cowardly for being afraid to face you. All he wanted was to see you again, and now he was a coward for being afraid.

“Married too,” Rafe sighed, becoming annoyed at Sam.

It felt like a stab, worse than any pain he had experienced during prison, holding on to the thought of you was what kept him going. He should have expected it though.. he should have known.

“Well, anyways, I wouldn’t go moseying around, disrupting their lives. Especially not now, I mean come on, your brother is retired and your ex girlfriend is married. Don’t go trying to mess things up.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. Jumping back into their lives, especially if you were married was cruel. It was better if you and Nathan still thought he was dead.

He felt even more hollow than he had ever been before.

“Let’s talk business, then, shall we?”

•••

[verai-marcel]

Okay, so i have a request if you don't mind. It's modern AU, and it's fem!reader. She gets dared to go into the boys' locker room (college au or something) and take pictures of the boys. You already have good relations with most of the men. So you hide in the locker, and something happens which leads you to get caught, Arthur (who probably has feelings for you), and the other men, turned on by this they decide to punish you. (ps Sorry if this sounds creepy. if you're uncomfortable just ignore)

Locker Room Lesson (RDR2 Fanfic, AM/JM/CS/JE x Fem!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You are in the photography club at your local community college, and have made fast friends with a group of ladies who share your thirst for a particular group of men who play on the rugby team. When they dare you to take photos of them in the locker room after a practice, you foolishly agree. But what happens if you get caught? 

Author’s Notes: Oh my. I may or may not have seen a few porns for this, and tbh, this kind of stuff turns me the fuck on. Let’s do this. Also, I picked community college because there’s generally a wider variety of ages there. So this will hopefully appeal to you, dear reader! The guys, well, I guess they’re roughly the same ages that they are in the game, so Arthur’s 35, and the rest are in their mid to early twenties.

Tags: gangbang, multiple partners, tropey porn plot, filthy smut, rough sex, doggy style, anal sex, blowjob, double penetration, facial, creampie, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, darlin’.

——————–

Hiding in the men’s locker room on campus was quite possibly the worst idea you’d ever had, but at least you could say you did the dare. When your friends in the photography club had dared you take some suggestive photos of some of the guys playing rugby, you unwisely boasted that it’d be easy peasy.

So now here you were, tucked into one of the bigger lockers, quietly waiting for the men to leave so you could sneak out. Thumbing through the photos on your camera, you had a few good shots of each of them, so at least it was worth your time.

Javier was lean, tanned, a beautiful specimen of a man. His fingers were long and graceful that could play a guitar like an extension of his body. When you saw him in front of the music building, he always smiled and nodded his head at you, and in class, he’d ask if he could copy your notes, claiming they were the best organized. Listening to him play on the campus plaza was a relaxing treat.

Charles was brawny, a beefcake with the strength to block almost anyone who came at him. When he was working out and you saw his back muscles flex, your breath was always taken away. He was quiet, but always helpful; on multiple occasions, he had taken a heavy box or bag from you and walked with you to your destination, no matter how far. It wasn’t like you couldn’t carry it on your own, but he seemed to have a need to help others.

John was wiry, a bit lanky, but had a smile that melted your heart. He was an honest man, even if he was kind of a goofball, and helping him out in math class was a joy, seeing him light up when he understood something you explained. He was always grateful for your help, and he returned the favor by running errands for you for the photography club when he had time.

And Arthur. Good lord, that man was perfect; the broad shoulders, perfect ass, powerful legs. Not exactly the brightest academically, but coming in as an older student, he had a lot of life experience that you could respect. He was in three of your classes, and you only started talking to him because you noticed his drawings during the studio art class.

“Never painted a day in my life,” he had told you, but anything he drew, for whatever reason, was filled with emotion. Even as he got criticized for his technique, the professor always gave him points for “good feeling,” whatever that meant.

Your ears perked up at the sound of male laughter, and you mentally sighed. You got the feeling that you were stuck in here for a while. You started to sort through some of your photos, picking and choosing which ones to keep.

Then the door to your locker suddenly opened. You nearly dropped your phone and stared, blinking at the bright light before your eyes readjusted.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Arthur smirked, looking like a cat that caught the mouse.

You panicked. “Um, just… hiding?”

John, Javier, and Charles appeared behind him. 

“What’re you doin’? John asked innocently.

Javier laughed. “She’s taking pictures of us, idiot.”

Lightning quick, your phone was snatched from your hands as Arthur took your wrist and pulled you out of the locker.

“Hey wait!” you yelped.

“Hmmm… these are pretty good photos,” Arthur mumbled as he flipped through your images. 

Charles peered over his shoulder. After a few moments, he looked up towards you. “You shouldn’t have snuck in here.”

Walking closer to you, Javier put an arm up on the lockers and leaned against it, effectively cornering you. “Who put you up to this?”

You looked away. You weren’t telling.

Arthur chuckled as he handed your phone back to you. “None of us are naked, but pretty damn close to.” He moved closer to you, the other men following suit. You felt like you were being caged in by a wall of meat.

Leaning in, he took your chin between his thumb and fingers. “Now darlin’, I think you need to pay us back for bein’ such good models, don’tcha think?”

“Only if you’re willing,” Charles added.

You swallowed.

John finally seemed to understand the implications and smiled at you. “We won’t hurt you.”

Javier was just quietly watching you, but from the way you were licking your lips, he had an inkling you weren’t against the idea.

It was a little hard to think, having so many hunks right next to you. Were they really offering what you thought? Did they all want to… have their way with you? Together?

Your heart pounded and your libido shot through the roof. You mentally drooled at the thought.

Arthur stepped back, concern on his face. “You can say no, we won’t be troubled.”

“I do, I do want to pay you back,” you quickly said. Biting your lip, you quietly asked, “Are you asking… what I think you’re asking?”

The men all smirked and chuckled.

Charles held his hand out to you. “If you think we’re asking you to give us your body to pleasure, then yes.”

You stepped towards them and took his hand.

***

Guiding you to the nearest bench, Charles sat you down as the other men circled around you. Arthur stood back, watching as John and Javier stood on either side of Charles.

You watched, gleefully, as the three of them took out their cocks. Each one different, each one so mouth-watering in their size and girth. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

Charles stepped forward. “Open up, honey.”

You took him into your mouth, and he stayed still as you bobbed your head around his thick member, twirling your tongue around the head. He sighed, his hand resting on your head and petting you. You shivered with pleasure at the feeling of his fingertips running along your scalp.

Your hands were taken by John and Javier, and they each wrapped one of your hands around their cocks. Getting the idea, you started to jerk them off as you sucked on Charles.

“Give us some of that pretty little mouth too, querida,” Javier said softly.

You alternated, giving them each some oral attention, looking up at them as you pleasured them. When it was his turn, Javier looked at you with a dark lust in his eyes. He reached down and caressed your cheek, before grabbing the back of your neck and holding you in place as he shallowly fucked your mouth, a bit dominating as he hummed his approval.

When you switched to John, he just closed his eyes and moaned quietly, his hips jerking forward, his cock nearly hitting the back of your throat. You pulled away, and he immediately apologized. You smiled and continued to suck on the tip of him.

Charles tapped John on the shoulder, and he pulled away from your mouth. You whimpered, and then looked past them at Arthur, who was leaning against the lockers, watching you with a lurid stare.

“Arthur?” you asked.

“I’ll take my time with you later,” he uttered quietly, a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine.

Your attention turned back to the others as they helped you remove your clothes, surrounding you with caresses and kisses as your skin was revealed. Soon you were naked, watching the three of them take off their own clothes so they could surround you once more.

Charles laid out a towel onto the ground and brought you down, laying you on your back. He let your head rest on his lap, his cock hovering near your mouth. You licked the tip, earning a pleased rumble. Javier came around and kneeled before you, touching your knees and spreading your legs apart.

“You look beautiful, querida,” he said as he stroked your center, spreading your love juices around your folds. “Can’t wait to make you sing.”

Then he leaned over you and curled two long, slender fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot inside that made you quiver and pant.

“M-more!” you cried out.

John kneeled beside you and started playing with your breasts. “You heard the woman. Give her what she wants.”

Javier grinned as he took his fingers out and pushed the head of his cock against your opening. You took a deep breath as he entered you, your muscles squeezing him.

“Feels so good,” he groaned as he made it all the way inside. He waited a few moments before lifting his hips and started moving, taking his time, rolling his hips and making sure he was hitting that wonderful spot inside.

Charles tilted your head towards him. “Don’t forget about me, honey.”

You gladly opened your mouth and pleasured Charles while Javier fucked you. John’s hands were on you, squeezing and pinching your nipples, and you reached out to stroke his cock in return.

“Your turn, brother,” Javier said after a while, pulling away from you and swapping places with John.

John had less finesse but more energy as he kneeled between your legs and lifted you up by your hips. He aimed his shaft at your pussy and just thrust forward, slamming inside of you. He was rough, lost in his desire as he just pounded into you, his heavy breathing and his occasional moan the only sounds he made.

You had been licking Charles for so long, that when he moved, you whimpered.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you something to occupy your mouth,” John said as he switched places with Charles.

John was as rough with your mouth as he was with your pussy, thrusting shallowly so you wouldn’t choke, but still moving fast, like he couldn’t control himself, desperately driving towards the pleasure your mouth brought him.

Charles played with you a little more than the other two, stroking your clit with his thumb while he teased your pussy with his cock, dipping the head inside and then coming back out, not giving you everything you wanted.

“Please Charles,” you begged. “Please fuck me!”

Charles gripped your hips and slowly entered you, a look of focus on his face. “You’re so tight.”

You writhed; he was not as long as the others, but his girth was almost too much for your body to take. You were glad you were stretched out first.

Javier caressed your clit, and when you gasped, he stroked in earnest, watching you moan around the cock in your mouth. 

“Look at you, such a sexy woman,” Javier praised. “Taking so much cock, you must love this.”

You just hummed in agreement as you felt Charles hilt inside of you. He rolled his hips slowly a few times, and your hips lifted in return, wanting that fullness of his cock to stay inside of you.

“You wanted this?” Charles asked.

You nodded. 

“Never would’ve guessed. Such a bad girl.” His voice was so low that the rumbling vibrated against your body, making you mewl with need. 

“Bad girls get punished, don’t they?” John asked.

You nodded around his cock.

“Get the lube,” Arthur said from his spot against the lockers.

Javier suddenly left, and Charles lifted you up into his arms. Laying down on his back, he grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks.

“You gonna take all of us?” John asked, gripping your neck.

“Yes!” you pleaded.

“That’s right. Take your punishment and be a good girl,” John crooned as he let go of you and pet your head.

Javier returned, a tube of some viscous liquid in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly worried about some unsafe chemicals going into your rear.

“It’s J-Lube. Don’t worry darlin’, it’s safe,” Arthur said, a tone of experience in his voice.

Trusting him with your safety, you relaxed and let Javier squirt some into his hand and spread it along his fingers.

You clenched when you felt him slip one finger into your rear entrance.

All three men began to soothe you. Charles reached down to play with your clit, keeping you distracted, John came around to give you his cock to suck on, giving your head a much needed scalp massage as you did so, and Javier rubbed your back, his finger going deeper inside.

As you relaxed, he squeezed in a second finger, then a third, stretching you out slowly and methodically. You had finally relaxed and gotten used to the intrusion, and started to rock your hips while moaning softly. Javier pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his member. He pushed in slowly, making sure you could take him.

“Just tell us if it hurts,” he told you as he slid all the way into you.

All you could do was whimper and move your hips. You were so full of cock, and it was amazing; feeling the three of them begin to move in rhythm, taking your body, using you as their fuck toy as they ‘punished’ you for spying on them.

You loved it. There was no thinking, just feeling, just being.

And in the midst of that, your climax built up, higher and higher, until Javier slapped your ass, and Charles grabbed your neck while he reached down and thumbed your clit.

“Come for us, sweetheart,” John growled.

“We want to feel you, querida.”

John’s shaft muffled your scream as you came, spasming around them, pleasure bursting through your body like fireworks. The aftershocks kept coming as they continued to pound into you, not letting up for a moment, no mercy on your almost relaxed body.

“Fuck,” John mumbled and pulled back after you were done screaming. “Almost came.”

You let out a soft cry, already missing the fullness of him in your mouth, but then Charles reached up and pulled you against him, one arm around you, one hand gripping your neck.

“You ready, honey?”

“For what?” you asked.

Charles smiled, and looked back at Javier and nodded. You felt Javier leave your body. Effortlessly, Charles wrapped his arms around you and stood up, still inside of you. You squealed with both a bit of fear and excitement. 

Then you felt Javier enter you from behind again, and the two men pistoned in and out of you, holding you up between the two of them.

“You want our forgiveness, honey?”

“Yes, yes!”

Charles and Javier both pulled out of you and eased you onto your knees. Charles stood in front of you, his massive hand on top of your head, his other hand stroking himself quickly.

“Beg for me,” he breathed.

“Please,” you said, big eyes looking up at him. “Please, I’ll be good.”

Charles could only bellow as he came onto you, ropes of his cum dripping from your chin and nipples. Taking a few staggered breaths, he stood back, and Javier took his place, his hand rapidly beating off.

“Say you’re our special girl.”

“I’m your special girl.”

He moaned as he came all over you, sighing your name before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“Gracias, querida.”

John came back into your view, and he grinned before grasping your neck.

“Sweetheart, that mouth of yours… give it to me.”

You gladly opened up and let John fuck your mouth until he groaned and came, spilling down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, and when he stepped away, grinning at you, you grinned back.

Then all of a sudden, Arthur cleared his throat. Everyone looked over at him, and you noticed his eyes were completely focused on you.

“Get yerselves clean again,” he told the others without looking at them. You heard them all chuckle and exit the room, leaving you alone with Arthur.

He pushed away from the lockers and walked up to you. He pulled his cock from his pants and stroked it slowly.

“Lookit’chu, all dirty with cum,” he sneered. “You like bein’ used?”

You bit your lip, and you tasted a bit of everyone’s cum on your lips.

“Look at me.”

You looked up at him. 

“You want to be used by me?”

You swallowed and nodded quickly. Your body burned for him, lusted after him in a way you didn’t realize you could. Sure, you thought he was a hunk before, but he had been friendly, gentle, safe. Right now, he was giving off the vibes of a predator, of an alpha male who would dominate you, own you… 

…and protect you.

You suddenly wanted him so badly that you could hardly contain yourself. You started to crawl towards him, unconscious of how you looked.

A knowing smile slowly spread across his face as he watched you kneel in front of him. You tentatively licked the tip of his cock before kissing it, slowly opening your mouth more and more to take in more of him, until you had filled your mouth full. Pulling back while sucking on him, you released him with a loud pop sound. You looked up and gave him a teasing smile.

“You gonna play with me that way, huh?” Arthur grabbed you by the base of your neck and pulled you up until you were standing, then flipped you around, your back to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, his lips biting your neck. 

“Bend over,” he growled, forcing you to bend at the waist, one hand on your shoulder. Your hands shot out to balance yourself against the lockers, and you turned your head to see him looking down, aiming his cock at your wet entrance. He glanced up and kept eye contact with you as he pushed his way in.

“Keep lookin’ at me, darlin’,” he crooned as he entered you. “Wanna see yer eyes when I take you.”

When your head started to droop, he grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your head and pulled, forcing you to look at him until his hips were flush with your ass.

“So good,” he said softly as he started to build up a rhythm, letting go of your hair to grip your hips. You were lost to the feel of him demolishing your coherent thoughts; all you could focus on was the pounding of your flesh, his soft grunts and moans as he enjoyed what you gave him.

When he reached down to stroke your core, it was too much, and you cried out his name.

Quickly, a hand reached around your mouth, quieting you down as you came around him, your legs beginning to shake.

“Shhh, can’t let anyone else know yer in here,” he warned. Pulling out of you, he kept you upright as he turned you around to face him. Picking you up around the waist, he carried you to the back wall of the locker room, farthest from the door.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded as he pushed you against the wall, angling his hips so he could enter you again.

You wrapped your legs around him, and he grabbed your butt so that he was holding you up as he started to fuck you against the wall.

“Like that, darlin’? Like it when I fuck you hard?”

“Oh god, yes,” you keened, clinging onto him and burying your head into his shoulder.

The sounds of him rutting into you, flesh against flesh, and his harsh breathing combined with your soft moans filled the room. He shifted you slightly higher on the wall and pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body was a sharp contrast to the cold wall behind you. He angled his thrusts and suddenly slammed into you harder, deeper, and you curled your toes, feeling the ripples of pleasure from your core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as your climax bowled you over, and you held onto Arthur for dear life as you spasmed, shaking from the strength of your orgasm.

“Wanna come inside of ya,” Arthur grunted.

“Yes, please!” you begged. 

With a low groan, he smashed you against the wall, holding you tight as he came inside of you, his hips jerking forward occasionally as he filled you full. He whispered your name lovingly, nuzzling your cheek as he came down from his high.

“Darlin’, my sweet darlin’,” he murmured as he slowly let you down from the wall and helped you to the bench. He sat down, with you in his lap, and held you close.

“Been wantin’ to do that fer a long time,” he confessed. “Probably since the second week of last semester.”

You remembered that week. That was the week you had first met him and had a long talk with him at the local cafe, where your friendship started. You remembered finding him attractive, and also, regretfully, decided for yourself that he was out of your league.

“Really?” You couldn’t believe that he wanted you.

“Yeah, really.” He kissed your cheek. “I know this started off… a bit strange, but… would you be interested… in… um… goin’ on a date?”

You blinked.

Then you burst out laughing.

“Yes, yes, of course!” you said after a few moments. “I never thought you’d ask. I thought… I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Arthur laughed. “Here I was thinkin’ the same thing.”

You couldn’t believe that. Arthur? He was so talented, so friendly, so handsome… he was such a good man, and he thought he wasn’t good enough? You knew you’d have to rectify that in the future.

He pressed his forehead against yours. “I ain’t sharin’ you again,” he said.

You kissed his cheek. “That’s fine. You’re plenty enough for me”

Arthur’s smile was worth the dare.

——————–

End Notes: Oh yes, J-Lube exists. Recommended by a porn star. Remember fam, don’t do anal unless you’ve cleaned yourself up properly and acquired the right lube! Also, I split the sexy time into two scenes because it’s very hard for me to write that many men in one scene, so I had to take Arthur out; I tried at first, but it just wasn’t working, logistically-speaking. Anon, I hope this fulfilled your sex fantasy; it sure as hell fulfilled mine, hehehehehe!

[offbrand-outlaw]

RDR2 HCs, because I'm high and I'm very happy

Arthur is just great and wonderful and everyone goes out of their way to tell him. Hosea makes a point of telling others to thank Arthur for all his hard work around camp. Anyone who doesn't gets a Stern Look directed their way from Hosea.

Despite being a major pain, Hosea cares for Dutch very much. Sometimes he'll stop teasing him for a while and insist they spend the whole day together. Just sitting around and loving their time together.

Dutch knows he can be annoying, so he tries to be quieter and not so overwhelming for Hosea sometimes when he feels he needs a break.

Whenever Hosea looks like he really needs it, Lenny will make him some tea. He'll grab him a blanket and have him sit down and just relax.

The only reason Jack doesn't call Hosea "grandpa" is because the one time he did Hosea was crying from joy and Jack thought it upset him.

Jack has it in his head that Lawmen are bad but not much anyone else. He has a tendency to easily trust strangers very easily. But, he understands that not everyone is good and he never really gets hurt

Plus, there is always a member of the gang around to look after him.

Agent Milton and his sister will sometimes get together and have a sleep over in his room. They'll get sweets together, an old book from their child, and blankets and just talk about their life or some of the silly things they did as a kid.

John works every day to make things up to Jack . He always does his best to be involved and do his best to raise Jack to be a good man.

In the end, Jack

Sorry my Wi-Fi went out and erased the rest I added so I gotta retype.

In the end, Jack doesn't ever remember a time when John wasn't there for him.

I hope I finish this I keep zoning out.

Sean, Lenny, and Kieran all became best friends in time. They loved hanging out and making each other laugh. When ever they have free time, Kieran will take them all fishing or Lenny will try to help them learn to read. Sean always goes out of his way to make everyone laugh. Especially on bad days.

Outlasting his friends fills Lenny with a deep guilt and he isn't sure how to handle it. He only hopes he can make it through everything so that, in a way, they made it too.

Sorry, I'm back I was eating

Okay, I'm so glad my auto correct is so good or this would be a mess.

Javier will leave camp sometimes to be alone. He'll play some music for his family. He'll hope that one day he could see them again. But until than, he plays a song for them.

Before things got bad, Bill tried to work on his behavior in camp. After things got bad he started to careless.

Karen realized before others that they would fall apart. Once she realized it, she spiraled into her darker depression. The last and biggest eye opener she had was Sean's death.

Yoo. . Agent Milton will lie awake at night and wonder if the gang that hurt his family all those years ago were ever brought to justice.

I I'm sorry I gotta go. I need to stop I'm zoning out way to much.

So, I hope you enjoyed. I'm sorry if it's wack I'm a little high. Am I allowed to be high on here? But hey at least my phone has good auto correct. 👌 Uh I gotta do tags now.

[the-old-dip-and-stir]

So today is the one year anniversary of rdr2′s release

Honestly, I don’t know what I had expected out the game because I never got to play the first one, even though I heard such good things about it. I can say that I’m happy I invested my money into the game because holy shit, it was a wild and amazing ride. The characters and the story is all just so *chef’s kiss*. The actors are amazing and sweet people, seriously, I don’t know it I could’ve asked for better people to work on this project. Some amazing art and writing has come out of it and I’ve met some really cool people from it. So in honor of rdr2, I wrote some hug headcanons for the entire Van Der Linde Gang. Thanks to the Red Dead Discord for inspiring and even helping a little with this cuz even though we are a cursed bunch, we are also very wholesome.

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Arthur hugs are grounding. He doesn’t hug often, but he knows words tend to escape him when he needs them most. A hug can convey what needs to be said. He cups the back of your head and brings you close, cradling you as if you were made of glass. Arthur will rock you both back and forth, swaying side to side in an intimate dance to the comforting, steady beat of his heart. He may slip in a “I got ya,” a “Yer alright,” or maybe a “Won’t let nothin’ happen t’ ya.” He holds you as long as you need, even if it’s for an hour. 

John hugs are spontaneous. He doesn’t really know how to hug, and most hugs he received lasted a few moments at best. When he does decide to give a hug, it’s a quick, in the moment thing. He may look at you for a few moments and then suddenly you’re being jerked into his lanky arms for a bit of a bony, yet meaningful hug. It won’t last very long, but it’ll have one, tight, little squeeze before he lets go. You may even question what the hell it was for and John will just shrug, with a simple “Just wanted to,” or “Felt right.”

Dutch hug are uplifting. He knows life can be a cruel mistress, and she will kick you down even when you’re at your lowest, so he will try his damnedest to keep you from drowning in the harsh sea. He’ll cradle the back of your neck and rest your head on his shoulder, an arm wrapped around your waste and the other rubbing your back. He may talk to you about absolutely nothing or tell you how strong you are. He sees a strength in everyone he loves and wishes they could see it too, but he never, ever minds emphasizing how much his family means to him.

Hosea hugs are comforting. He is fully aware that many adults won’t admit they need a hug, but he’s a sensible man that understands that even those with a strong will need reassurance, so he makes it a point in letting everyone know they can talk to him. If all you need is the hug, he’s more than willing to envelop you in his wispy arms, pet your head, and hold you until you feel better. Any tears shed will be met with an equal amount of understanding. “Kindness isn’t a commodity, child.” Hosea makes it his job to remind you and anyone that being kind is important.

Javier hugs are heartfelt. Physical affectionate is something he usually received from family or a loved one, so he’s not one to give out hugs willy-nilly. He gives them to those he cares about greatly. So say you happen to be one of those people, he won’t hesitate to take you into his arms. He holds you like it’s his one and only job, and he’s gonna make sure he does it right. He may sway, maybe sing you a little song, whatever you need. And he will end it, no matter what, with a kiss on your temple. Doesn’t matter if you’re a hulking figure, you’re his family and he loves you.

Bill hugs are gentle. You wouldn’t think this would be the case, but he prefers a soft hug. The outlaw life is so harsh and wild that he craves something more tame, more tender. He hasn’t been hugged for a long time, but, contrary to his grumpy exterior, Bill adores a good hug. So when you need one, he makes sure to be delicate. He wants it to be sweet and comforting, not some hard and unfeeling thing. He wishes to appear as much as the teddy bear he, not so secretly, is. He won’t have much to say since he’s not too good with words, but he’s hoping you know that he cares.

Charles hugs are safe. He doesn’t come off as the type to hug often, but it’s not that he dislikes touch, Charles respects people’s boundaries. He constantly one step away from hugging others, all they have to do is give him the go ahead and his arms will immediately encircle them. He understands what it’s like to be afraid, so he wants to give others a sense of security. His arms will engulf you, his body swallows you in order to hide you away from your troubles. He’s the barrier that keeps all the bad out, even if it’s just for a little while.

Lenny hugs are friendly. He’s a little on the touchy-feely side. There’s almost always a hand on your shoulder or back. He’ll bump shoulders with you or just stand in close proximity, so it makes sense that his hugs are just a welcoming as his demeanor. His hugs are a little lanky given that he’s still young, but it doesn’t make them any less lovely. You need a bit of bone-crusher? Just want to be held and talk? Lenny’s ya boah, and he will happily do it with a big grin on his face.

Sean hugs are enthusiastic. In fact, he’s almost never not touching you. There’s always an arm slung around your shoulders or a hand sitting on the back of your neck. It’s worse when he’s drunk, but it all done in fondness. So need a hug? No problem! Sean’s always a willing participant in a good ol’ fashioned bear hug. They’re bony hugs, but full of joy and happiness. He practically reeks of glee, and also booze, so it’s nearly impossible for it not to rub off on you. Beware of whiskey breath, though.

Micah hugs are protective. You wouldn’t think the words affection and Micah would go together, but that’s where you’re wrong. He’s not publicly affectionate, it embarrasses him. Now in private? He will hug the shit out of you. The man has been starved of kindness for quite awhile, so if you need a hug, you will get a hug, and, surprisingly, they are very nice, comforting hugs. But there is one case where Micah won’t give a damn what others think of him, if he decides to throw an arm around you. That is when he feel like you are in immediate danger. He likes to make sure that anyone who’s watching knows that if they mess with you, they mess with him.

Sadie hugs are tight. She holds on like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, for good reason of course. She’ll circle her arms around your waist, pulling you as close as she possibly can, and won’t let go for a while. You’ll feel Sadie bunch up the back of your shirt in her hands, as if to make it harder for anyone to haul you away. You can feel everything she feels, and her you. She needs this hug. You need this hug. You don’t have to hug back just as hard as she does, but if you do, she will most definitely squeeze you tighter. 

Abigail hugs are loving. Perhaps that comes with her being a mother, she knows just the kind of hug you might need. They can be as gentle or firm as you need, and she’s not shy to tell you how important you are. How much you mean to her. How much you mean to everyone. Abigail can almost feel when you need a hug too. It can be the way you say something, a look, or how you carry yourself. She will know and she will provide. She’ll hold you as you cry or if you’re hurt, she doesn’t mind. You need someone and she’ll be there as you’ve always been for her, and for Jack.

Jack hugs are short and sweet. Pun intended and not. A young Jack clings to your legs with a quick “Love you!” before running off to play again. He doesn’t like seeing you sad and his mama’s hugs always make him feel better. An older, more hardened Jack keeps his hugs short as well. Much like his father, he’s not too sure on how to give hugs, even though he’s received quite a few as a kid. That doesn’t stop them from being meaningful in anyway, though. He makes sure he conveys how much you mean to him.

Tilly hugs are special. She more likely to lend an ear than she is to cradle you. Not everyone wants to be touched, and physical affection is harder to come by in a large group of men. So she’s always willing to listen, and asking for a hug, instead of talk, may surprise her. It’s not a bad sort of a surprise, Tilly feels honored that you’re comfortable enough to even want that sort of thing from her at all. When she takes you into her arms, it makes you feel as if you’re the most important person to her. The hug isn’t grand, it’s not absolutely extraordinary, but it sure does make you feel special.

Mary-Beth hugs are sisterly. Most of the gang sees her as a little sister, it’s nearly impossible not to with how she dreams and how sweet she is. The way she hugs is very much how someone would great their family. It’s almost as if you’re a long lost sibling, or her favorite cousin that came over for the holidays. Her embrace screams that you mean the world to her. That she’s so happy that you’re there. Though, be warned, if you have long hair, it may get tangled up in her necklace with how closely she holds you.

Karen hugs are strong. She’s the type to actually give you a bone-crushing hug. It’s the only hug she’s capable of. Karen is even the type to do a full side hug and trap your arms against your body. If you want a soft hug, the closest you can get is an arm around your shoulders, but everything else nearly bruises. It’s not her goal to hurt you, she really doesn’t know her own strength. She’s really used to being a tough gal, so even her hugs are tough on people. You can’t hate her for it though. At least you know she’s excited to see you.

Susan hugs are motherly. The entire gang is basically her kids, you included. She’s not the type to immediately hold and coddle you. She’ll lend and ear and set you straight, but she knows when to hug you. She knows when words and a firm hand aren’t going to help you. She gently bring you to her breast, as any mother does to comfort her child. She’ll pet your head and listen as you cry or just talk. You need support and she’s giving it all the while. Susan is a force to be reckoned with, but she isn’t one to be harsh when it’s not needed. 

Molly hugs are unintentionally tender. She hadn’t intended to hug you. She had come to you to vent about Dutch, seeing as you were the only one who would listen to her, but as soon as she saw you, any and all complaints flew out the window. You’d been crying, and seeing you so despondent broke her heart. When you saw her, you tried to act like nothing had happened and asked if she needed anything, but she said nothing. She simply approached and wrapped her around your shoulders. It wasn’t immediate, but you eventually hugged her back and started crying again. She cried with you, taking comfort that she wasn’t the only one feeling down.

Pearson hugs feel like home. As much as he likes to talk, Simon is an incredible listener. He also gives really good advice if you need it. Many of the others don’t really like hearing him talk about his days in the Navy, but you enjoy hearing them while you help him. It’s a bit of an escape from the rough life you live. So if he notices that you’re not as into his stories like usual, he’ll ask if you’re alright, if you need to talk. Whether you do or don’t, his arms are quick to open and let you seek comfort from him. They are warm and smell of coffee, and the best hugs you’ve ever received.

Kieran hugs are nervous. He’s unsure if any of it is okay. Are you sure you want a hug from him? What if one of the others gets upset at him for touching you? It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he’s just terrified of doing the wrong thing. Of course, there’s absolutely nothing he can do if you’re the one who engulfs him in an embrace, but the fear is still there. Your hugs are nice, though, and it makes him feel a little less unsafe with you being so nice to him. Although, he’s always embarrassed to hug you because he always seems to be sweaty and smell like a horse whenever the opportunity arises.

Uncle hugs are funny. He’s a jolly person, a little smelly, but joyful all the same. He likes giving hugs, likes to put smiles on people’s faces. So if Uncle ever sees that your down, expect to be scooped up into a big hug, if his lumbago doesn’t act up of course. He’ll twirl you around and tickle you with his beard until he’s got you laughing. He’ll only put you down if he knows your mood is brightened and if that doesn’t do the trick, expect him to bother you for the rest of the day. Nobody’s gonna be sad, not on his watch. 

Trelawny hugs are magical. Much like Uncle, he tries to make you smile, but instead of tickling and twirling, he puts his magician skills to use. He’ll dramatically embrace you, then pull back to tell you how darling you are and-- oh? What’s this? A coin behind you ear? BOOM. MAGIC. He’ll hold you to his side as he examines the coin, rolls in between is knuckles, and-- oho? Now it’s a dove! BOOM. MAGIC. He will take off his hat, as is the gentlemanly thing to do, and-- well, would you look at that. A hare in his hat! BOOM. MAGIC. Josiah gets a kick out of your pure, unadulterated wonder at his magic tricks.

Swanson hugs are mutually beneficial. At first, it’s really just a hug because you need it, but he can’t help but melt into your arms as well. He can’t remember the last time someone held him that didn’t involve picking his inebriated ass off the ground. It’s a lot nicer than he remembers and he accidentally holds on longer than either of you intended. He’ll apologize profusely, but tell you let him know if you need anything else. He cares a great deal, but he’s also hoping maybe he can another hug in as well.

Strauss hugs are a little awkward. He’s not much of a hugger, at most he’ll wrap his arms around you with a pat on the back, but usually it’s a hand on the shoulder or holding your hand softly. He didn’t receive many hugs growing up, and those he did were from his mother a long, long time ago. If he’s unsure of what you need, he will sit with you and listen to your troubles, or sit with you in silence. He’s not very touchy-feely, but he wants you to know he’s there for you whenever and however you need.

[mileycyprus-hill]

Feliz Navidad! A RDR2 Secret Santa Fic.

A @rdrsecretsanta​ fic for @chaoticneautral​ I hope I did your OC Ruth justice with this. I had a lot of fun writing this for you! Merry Christmas and I hope you like it!

Summary: The gang celebrates Christmas (Pre-Blackwater) and new member Ruth feels left out until a special someone comes by to give her a present. 

Word count: 1610

December 24th, the day before Christmas. Ruth had barely known the holiday, let alone celebrate it. She only slightly recalls her nanny telling her the story of some baby born to be the savior of humanity, or something like that. The other gangs Ruth rode with? Well, they took no part in such a humbling ceremony that is Christmas, let alone speak about it.

Sitting quietly from her spot on the log, Ruth tries to avoid the awkwardness of taking part in such a celebration that she’s ignorant of. The warm fire in front of her roars and crackles as more logs are heaped onto the flames. The dry desert air is crisp and cool, as the warmth of the desert sun has dropped below the horizon hours ago.

Lyrics sung in broken melodies carry through the air by the cheerful members of the Van der Linde gang, who surround the bonfire with their joyful songs. Their words slur from the relaxing taste of whiskey and beer.

Ruth holds her bottle in her cold hands, still nearly full of the malty beer. Watching them quietly from her lonely spot, she meekly taps the glass bottle with her fingertips. The soft tapping clinks in time with their drunken songs.

O come, all ye faithful

Joyful and triumphant

O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem

Come and behold Him

Born the King of Angels!

O come, let us adore Him

O come, let us adore Him

O come, let us adore Him

Christ the Lord

The night drags on and so do the festivities. Reverend Swanson gives a short sermon and a prayer before stumbling to his tent, most likely to pass out from the combination of liquor and morphine, Ruth guesses. Shortly after the reverend’s drunken sermon, Dutch speaks. The patriarchal leader thanks the reverend and continues on with his regular poem of faith, love, and family. In his rich voice, Dutch speaks proudly of how thankful he is to have such loyal followers.

Ruth’s heart grows warm with pride and immense joy at Dutch’s words. Never before has she had a leader so open, so loving. From her first impression, he would seem cold and careless, but in just a short amount of time, Ruth found out there’s much more to the man named Dutch van der Linde.

In fact, there’s much more than what meets the eye when it comes to all of the members of camp, including one who caught Ruth’s eye.

She looks around her, sitting on the dry log just at the edge of the circle and resting her elbows on her knees. Nearly everyone encircles the fire in front of her; their cheeks red from beer and whisky and rum. They all seem to be having a good time, enjoying each other’s company, but Ruth still feels empty.

Mary-Beth stands from her spot to sing a beautiful Christmas carol, to which the gang shortly join in. Her sweet voice carries across the campground while Ruth takes her cue to step out quietly into the shadows.

Her footsteps back to her tent are muffled by the arid dirt and the loud voices of the party. As Ruth steps closer to her private tent, she’s reminded of how grateful she is to have one all to her own—no one barging in to use her for their own selfish pleasure. For once, she’s safe and can finally be alone.

But it indeed saddens her. For someone so used to the life of a lone wolf, the effects of loneliness can still wear on their spirit.

Christmas is a fairly new concept to her, at least the gang’s version of it. If only she could bring herself to celebrate it with them. She can’t help it. Ruth’s used to being so alone that celebrating in a party makes her feel out of place.

Standing at the open entrance of her tent for what felt like minutes, Ruth shakes her thoughts and steps forward to shut herself out from the rest.

Until she feels a soft, yet firm tap on her shoulder. It nearly startles her as she gasps softly and turns to see who’s behind her.

Johnny Marston, the handsome devil who caught her eye months ago after she joined. His black hair blends into the surrounding darkness behind him, while the distant amber fire glows in his eyes.

He greets her delicately with a smile and asks in his scratchy voice, “Turnin’ in already?”

Nervously biting her lower lip, she answers, “Yeah, ahem. I’m just, uh...tired. Thought I’d call it a night.”

“You ain’t gonna stay up with us?” John asks her. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t singing with all of us.”

Ruth fidgets with her hands, feeling put on the spot by him. Sensing her nervousness, John quickly grabs into his back pocket and pulls out a small box.

“Here,” John nearly whispers. “I got this for you.”

The small, red wooden box gleams in his hand. It looks brand new, with its freshly lacquered wood and golden inscription.

“Feliz Navidad,” John says.

Ruth looks to him in surprise. He had never bothered to learn Spanish before, let alone speak it. To hear such a thoughtful greeting in a familiar tongue, it lit a spark in her heart.

John notices her confusion and shrugs sheepishly, hoping he pronounced the words right.

“Javier taught me it...thought you’d like it.” He says. He raises his arm out to her to offer her this small token of holiday affection.

Ruth’s eyes dart down to the box and back up to John, her mouth agape and speechless.

“Shit, did I say it wrong? I’m sorry.” John mutters in shame, now cursing himself. He wonders if Javier taught him a dirty phrase instead of ‘merry Christmas’. Boy, does he feel foolish now. He thinks to himself how he’s going to strangle Javier the next time he sees him.

Smiling at his slight humiliation, Ruth takes the gift from his hand. Her own palms are sweating.

“No, it’s right,” Ruth consoles him. “Feliz Navidad, John.”

She cracks open the cherry wooden box to find a spectacular, sparkling brooch. A bright ruby gemstone sits in the center, surrounded by leaves made of silver and diamonds.

Her heart stops and her knees lock into place. It’s perhaps the most beautiful jewel she’s ever seen. And it’s for her, she wonders?

Ruth stumbles upon her words, trying to thank John for such a wonderful gift, but her tongue is numb and fat and her thoughts are wavering.

Staring at him in surprise, she sees him smiling and wheezing a scratchy chuckle.

“I knew you’d like it,” John gleams. “Cause of ‘Ruby Ruth’, you know? I thought it’d be kinda funny.”

“How did you manage to afford this?” Ruth finally manages to speak and think coherently.

John simply smiles and looks to her. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “It’s Christmas.”

Suddenly Ruth doesn’t know how she mustered the bravery, but she finds herself wrapping her arms around John’s shoulders. The box still in her hand, she hugs him tightly. Her heartbeat races while John returns the hug with his arms wrapped around her waist and his face nuzzled in her silky hair.

“Thank you,” Ruth whispers.

“You’re welcome,” John responds with his voice muffled in her hair, relishing the tight embrace.

He breaks the hug for a moment to pull out a tall bottle from his satchel.

“I also got this,” he says, holding a bottle of red wine in his hand. “I’d like to share it with you, if you’d like.” His cheeks flush to match the dark red wine inside the bottle.

“I would,” Ruth answers, accepting John’s hand and allowing him to lead her to his tent across the way.

With the gang still singing at the fire at the far edge of camp, the two of them slip inside John’s tent unnoticed. The sound of a match strike is soon followed by the soft glow of the oil lamp on the nightstand.

“Can I...see it on you?” John asks sheepishly, pointing to the gift box in her hand.

Ruth nods her head and gathers her hair behind her, turning her back to John while he plucks the brooch out of the box.

She feels a gentle tug of the brooch against her hair as John places it in the notch of her simple updo. Her scalp feels flushed with heat at the touch of John’s fingertips against her head. Strands of hair hang down near the front of her face, framing her with their flattering black ink.

“Beautiful,” John whispers, taking in the beautiful sight before him.

The twilight of dawn approaches as the early morning sun announces its arrival. The dark blue horizon glows in subtle pinks and violets, like brushstrokes on a canvas. The once boisterous noises of camp are now silenced, with only soft snores and drunken hiccups left behind.

But there is still one faint sound coming from the tent of John Marston.

An empty wine bottle lays abandoned in front of the entrance, tossed onto the dirt with not a drop left. A muted song sung by two contrasting voices barely pass through the thick, green canvas. The song is lead by John’s voice and memory, guiding Ruth’s sweet, angelic air through the melody and lyrics.

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth,

To touch their harps of gold:

"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,

From heaven's all-gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

To hear the angels sing.

————————-

Merry Christmas!

[martinadiamondrock]

Is no one gonna mention how Red Dead Redemption is just a more bad ass version of Star Stable online?

Hah, yup, you could call it that! Red dead redemption is definitely the most badass horse game ever.

But real talk:

Rdr2 has amazing mechanics when it comes to horses. They're great, and I really feel like I need to keep 'em safe.

While I know sso can really make it exactly the same (they are two completely different games, also, y'know, being original), if they would just... Take some inspiration. Like building up the relationship with your horse. Them coming right next to you when you whistle, or following you when you tell them to. I would love that, really.

Red dead redemption is a gorgeous game. The story, graphics, the characters. They're so well done.

But Star stable is a good game too. They're still a work in progress with the updates and everything. They can add much more stuff. So I'm hoping to get at least a little bit "from rdr".

Thank you for this ask! I really love both of those games and two of them had a huge impact on me actually, and talking about them brings me joy.

[mexicanokami]

So my RDR2 Horses so far and some things about them

Tanner- The Mahogany Bay Tennessee Walker

He's a scaredy cat, bucks me off every chance he gets when he sees a predator or a snake. Tanner, please, stop.

But he's pretty fast, so he's great for bounty hunting, or at least I think so cuz we get the job done

Overall I love him, but he's usually in the stables cuz again, he bucks me off more often than not

El Diamantito- The Raven Black Shire

My mom named him cuz I couldn't think of anything

His name means "The little diamond"

He's the one I like to take hunting, he can handle predators pretty well and has good stamina

Also he's my biggest horse and he's also a work horse so I like to think he's the strongest and I can confidently have him carry game

He makes the other horses look tiny & adorable which I love

Good boy

I love him

Belle- The Blue Roan Nokota

She was my pride and joy

My main horse

Fast, brave, loyal

She could handle anything from an easy ride to a gun fight

I named her "Belle" because of the Bluebell flowers, Blue Roan Nokota, Bluebell, but I didn't want her name to be a reference to the actual Bell object so I spelled it as the beauty term instead

I made Arthur run all the way to Valentine, almost had him pass out multiple times, and get horse reviver because some idiot ran into us with his god damn wagon and I didn't want her to die

Also restarted a mission so that Belle would find Arthur and not a rando horse that was stolen from an earlier mission

I CRIED WHEN SHE DIED IN THE END.

BEST GIRL 10/10

I MISS HER. REST IN PEACE GIRL, REST IN PEACE.

Buell- The Gold Tinted Dutch Warmblood

Other than Belle, Buell was the only horse that made me cry

I never used him during missions that involved crime, why? Hamish wouldn't have wanted Buell to get involved

Stranger missions and messing around the world were okay

If I would get into a gun fight I'd tell Buell to fucking RUN

I hope Hamish knows that I loved that horse

Hamish deserved better, Buell got a lot of love and treats

Best boy, 10/10

The Phantom- The White Arabian

First of all, WTF

She would get in the fucking weirdest positions on her own. Like hold my fucking tent? Hold the hitching post? Somehow wandered off and got stuck in a weird cliff

Girl, are you okay?

She was the horse I would ride in Saint Denis cuz she was a fancy white arabian

Also that way people would pay attention to the horse and not the outta place cowboy

Fast, much speed, wow

For a horse with a mysterious and elegant name, you are a god damn derp.

Betty- The Black American Standardbred

Originally I wanted to name Belle "Betty"

My friend convinced me to not do so, why? The American Standardbred was black and it was a reference to the song "Black Betty"

Friend if you see this post, gdi.

She was the one I would look for people to race with

She fast

Also has a tendency to try to start to buck me off around snakes

Not as bad as Tanner though

She was pretty great, didn't really bond much with her

Lantern- The Mealy Chestnut Belgian Draft

Like El Diamantito I thought I would like her for hunting

But she was a scaredy cat

She was easy to bond with though

And I love her

But I ended up having her for treasure hunting cuz I only needed a ride to the general area

Only bucked me off once

She was a good girl

[squidproquoclarice]

Oh man Timeless, I remember sending you an ask saying how disappointed I was with the news there was going to be a movie and you agreed and then we found out that the person who blamed Lucy for Wyatt’s actions was going to write the final episode and we really had no chance. I see you have a new fandom, good for you, I need that. I don’t know if I can see Timeless the same way, the finale was bad enough, the answers from the writer and the creator killed what was left of my love for this show.

Ooph.  I remember that Ask, and I remember trying hard to not pour out too much tea and to find cause for optimism but nooooot really.  And yeah, turns out it was as bad as we feared and then even worse.  The writing quality, y’all.  Like–it’s to the point I resent that Arika and Lauren were actually paid to write something that horrible and given the opportunity to have it filmed and presented as “canon”, whereas I’ve put probably at least 150 hours into MAWAMS by now, I know @qqueenofhades has to have put a shitload of time into her own season 3 offering, and others in this fandom have written high quality fic, meta, etc. for far longer than me, purely as a passion project.  Throw a stick at anyone in Timeless fandom, give them as long as Arika and Lauren had (two or three months?), and they could have written a much better two-hour finale that thoroughly respected and loved all the characters.  And I guarantee any one of us would have done it for free.The people in RDR2 fandom are lovely, there’s generally a “ship and let ship” attitude which is how it should be–although I think we all ship Arthur/Being Alive and Arthur/Learning To Love Himself, and mostly WTF at anyone shipping Micah with anything but Well Deserved Death.  ;)  Being honest, having another fandom to flail in while things were going utterly to hell over in Timeless has been a lifesaver.  It’s kept me a lot less angry about the finale that I likely would have been otherwise.I hear you on being disillusioned and feeling like something’s been ruined.  But remember there is a reason we all adored the show and the characters.  As far as we’re concerned, the show ended with 2x10, and this rumored Christmas special is just some terrible fanfic written by a spoiled BNF with an agenda.  So my advice to you and anyone is this: step back and take a break, by all means, if that helps.  We all need a breather after this.  But don’t let this crap kill your love for a glorious little show that could.  There’s wonderful fanfic that’s out there that makes clear the love and respect these writers have for the show, and I really, really hope that you can find some great fic and find that joy in Timeless again.  Because so long as we love a fierce yet compassionate brilliant badass Lucy and a determined and soft and honorable and redemptive Garcia and nerdy glorious cinnamon rolls Rufus and Jiya and a complicated but ultimately heroic Jessica and a Wyatt who’s trying to be better and is not a toxic waste dump masquerading as a hero, all that’s good in Timeless can’t ever truly die or be killed, no matter how shitty the writing may be.Fanfic is our playground.  It always will be.