#can you tell i just finished rdr2 for the first time????

[werewolfsmile]

when the current hyperfixation won't leave you alone, you write fanfic for it.

arthur morgan, you beautiful bastard, i will fix things for you if it's the last thing i do.

[dollyzdaydreamz]

Arthur Morgan x Reader:

A Clearer View

Description: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Dutch's daughter Reader Turns out, you’re not a terrible shot: you’re just blind. After Dutch chews you out for missing targets during a train heist, Arthur takes it upon himself to ‘fix’ the problem which brings a whole lot of unsolicited observations about Arthur Morgan. ⚠️Warnings: guns, knives, humor, fluff, Dutch being stubborn, John being annoying (✿◕‿◕✿)

i don't own any of the rdr2 characters, they belong to Rockstar (≧▽≦)

inspired by this fanfic I stumbled across. it is a masterpiece 🤌🏻

The first time you miss a shot in the middle of a train heist, you tell yourself it’s the high winds drafting over the area (it is elevated terrain, after all). The second time, you blame the gun. You haven’t cleaned it in a while (seeing as gun oil has been sold out lately). But by the third time, when your bullet strays wide and Dutch’s expression hardens as he turns to you amidst the gunfire, there’s no excuse to be made other than the fact that you simply cannot see from that far. Instead, you opt for pulling out your knife and taking down the gunmen from behind.

After the men have been cleared out, your father gathers everyone, giving each person instructions. Lenny, Arthur, and Micah are to search the train cars for valuables: money, jewelry, bonds. Even Bill has a task. As the group separates, you turn to your father.

“Well, what can I do?”

Dutch scoffs. “Well, exactly! What can you do?”

Ouch.

“If Arthur didn’t have you covered, you’d be dead!”

Your stomach knots as you lower your head.

He falters, his tone softening just slightly. “What is going on with you, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“You don’t know?” His voice sharpens again, and suddenly, he’s right in front of you, eyes filled with something between disappointment and frustration. “Y/n, we don’t get to ‘not know’ in this life, do you understand?”

You swallow and nod.

He shakes his head, turning away. “Sort yourself out. Go back to camp and get some rest.”

As he stalks off, you exhale shakily, jaw clenching to keep the sting of frustration at bay.

Arthur leans against the crate he's just finished looting, arms crossed, watching, but unlike Dutch, his expression isn’t one of disappointment. After a few more days of watching you squint at distant things, tilting your head like a damn lost dog, he finally decides to do something.

A week later, he rides back into camp from Saint Denis as the sunsets over camp. You’re busy sitting at the little table outside your tent, cleaning your revolver, when a small bundle is tossed into your lap.

“Here.”

You catch it instinctively, looking down to see a rectangular box wrapped in blue velvet cloth. Frowning, you glance up. “What’s this?”

“Glasses.”

You blink. “Glasses?”

“Yeah. For seein" he clarifies, "y’know, that thing you ain’t been doin’ so well lately.”

You smile, about to thank him, but you falter when a warning finger meets your face “Now, I—I stole ‘em on that train, so don’t go thinkin’ I’m soft or nothin."

You huff a laugh but unwrap the bundle carefully. Inside, several pairs of frames sit nestled in their case, "That' why these are all marked with Sam's Spectacle Shop, Saint Denis?" you ask, feigning ignorance.

"Shut up." he huffs half-heartedly, sitting down beside you as you pick up the first pair and slide them on, only to immediately grimace at how the world bends strangely around you.

Arthur watches as you try another, then another, until finally-

You still.

Everything kind of sharpens. The blurred greens of the trees become distinct leaves, each serrated edge visible. The grass at your feet is no longer just a vague smear of green but individual blades, shifting with the evening wind. And when you turn your gaze to Arthur-

You hesitate.

For the first time, you notice things you hadn’t before. The speckle of green in his otherwise blue eyes, and the white strands in his hair underneath all the brown locks, something you find oddly charming. His face flushes slightly under the brim of his hat, clearly flustered at you studying him the way one might examine a painting in better light.

“You know, you’ve got some white hairs,” you blurt out, motioning to the side of his head.

Arthur furrows his brows at the uncalled-for observation before you begin to backtrack, realizing that might sound offensive.

“No, I mean-” you sputter. “It looks nice. Makes you look...uhm-mature, seasoned.” You gesture vaguely with a sarcastic grin.

He scoffs, reminded of the way Dutch sells him on some awfully thought-out, spur-of-the-moment plan, letting his body language do the work.

Arthur shakes his head, "Well, you sure are an odd girl," he says, getting up. But you catch a peak of that small smile tugging at his lips as he walks off, muttering something about those “Damned Van der Linde's."

Just as you’re about to head to your father’s tent, John, still recovering from his facial injuries, ambles over with Abigail.

“Well, ain’t this something? You look even more like a dork now,” he chuckles, pushing your glasses up further on your nose, a bit rougher than intended, making your head snap back. Abigail smacks his hand away, "John Marston, you rotten man! I think you look just fine, honey."

"Why thank you, Abigail," you say, shooting John a glare, "I can see a lot more clearly now."

Before John can utter another word, you speak up again, “And you’re uglier than I thought. Damn shame, really.”

John snorts out a laugh, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he hollers as he walks away with a giggling Abigail, waving you goodbye as they head towards their tent for the night.

You push open the lapels of your father’s tent with a mockingly stern expression, letting your framed eyes peruse the space. He’s busy looking over a map with Hosea, likely discussing a new lead. Dutch lifts his head, and for a fleeting moment, an almost imperceptible flash of guilt for scolding you earlier in the week crosses his face when he realizes it’s you.

“What’s this? Some new fashion trend?” he chuckles, motioning vaguely to your eyes.

“No,” you huff, taking a few steps closer. “Apparently, I’m not incapable of shooting-I’m just… somewhat blind.”

Dutch turns his head back to the map, unwilling to apologize just yet. “A damn shame.”

Hosea lifts his head up and flashes you a familiar, warm smile amidst the chill of the tent, "Those suit you! Where'd you buy them?" "I didn't, Arthur said he 'stole 'em for me'" you say with air quotes and Hosea chuckles,

"Terrible liar that brute is, their clearly brand new," he muses. You hand them over to him so he can inspect them more closely, before he gingerly puts them back on your face.

"I’m hoping you can get back to being one of our sharpest shooters.” he grins, nudging the revolver strapped to your waist,

“And I’m sure some people will regret doubting your abilities,” he adds, giving Dutch a pointed look to which he waves off with an inaudible murmur as he stares at the map.

“Ahh, come on, Father. I know that apology’s coming around eventually,” you say, giving him a rough pat on his hunched back. Beside him, you take notice to the oil lamp illuminating his makeshift library shelf.

“It better,” you hear Hosea say as you snatch one of the neatly organized books, knowing your father hates when you do that.

“Y/N!” Dutch finally yells, getting up from his seat, as you scurry out of his tent and back into your own with some new reading material to share with Mary-Beth.

The next morning, you and Arthur ride out after turning a bounty into the sheriffs office just for the heck of it, the sun casting long shadows over the valley. You glance at him sideways, noticing the faint freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, barely visible beneath all the dirt.

"You know… you have freckles," you mutter, getting a better look at them.

Arthur lets out a breath of laughter, leaning away from your pressing gaze. "Jesus. We doin’ this again?"

"I'm just sayin" you raise your hands in defense, "I never saw ‘em before."

A little sign marked in white paint comes into view a few meters ahead, and you realize that, without Arthur’s gift, you wouldn’t have been able to read it.

“First one to that sign wins!” you blurt out, not giving Arthur a chance to react before spurring your horse into a sprint.

“Wha—hey! Get back here, woman!” Arthur hollers before tugging his reins. “Shoulda left her blind,” he mutters.

But behind all his grumbling, he doesn’t seem to mind your new discoveries one bit.

dividers by @enchanthings-as on tumblr:) images found on pinterest but collaged by me

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 1

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Next chapter

Word count: 3543

Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

The harsh cold cuts through your many thick layers of clothing and your limbs gradually grow number by the minute. Pain shoots through your fingers everytime you move them just to make sure they're still working. The last thing you want is to loose any body parts to hypothermia this early on in your journey.

One foot at the time. Come on.

As you stumble through the knee-high snow and fight your way through the merciless storm, you silently curse yourself out. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved in this.

-

"Arthur Morgan? That name rings a bell, actually.", Francis mumbles under his breath as his eyes trail over the words of the journal you had handed to him earlier.

The book is in poor condition with most of the pages missing and the ones that are still attached, are barely readable. Only a few passages are intact, but it's enough to let you roughly know what happened to the author.

"I thought you might have maybe heard of him during your travels.", you answer with a hopeful tone. Your eyes stare expectantly at the red head as you wait for him to finish reading.

The author wrote the journal around the end of the 1800s which is the same time Francis likes to visit every now and then.

"I think I remember now!", he exclaims with raised eyebrows and you jump up from the chair you're sitting on.

"You do? Can you...help me out then?"

-

You have no idea why the story of Arthur Morgan had moved you so much. His life and the way he put it into words had shaken you to your core.

A shuddering sigh escapes your lips and even through the scarf that covers half of your face, you're able to see the cloud of air.

-

"You want to safe him? Why?", Francis asks and his tone is laced with utter disbelief. Yes, he met the man during one of his travels and even though Arthur didn't know him at all, he still had helped find all the rock carvings.

"The way things went and the way they ended for him...it doesn't feel right.", you explain with furrowed brows.

"It's dangerous. Yes, the country started to enforce the law more seriously during that time, but there were still so many gangs, robberies and shootings. I can't even begin to count all the things that could go wrong on your journey."

Francis' gaze is serious and stern. He's making his disapproval of your idea more than clear, but you're not willing to give up on your plan. Not yet.

"Nothing will go wrong if you help me prepare.", you answer and take both of his hands in yours to give them a reassuring squeeze.

His expression is unmoving, but his eyes betray the crumbling resistance within him. He's only a couple more arguments away of giving in.

-

The memory makes you chuckle. It's a low and bitter sound. Indeed, he had helped you get prepared for your adventure. Your leather bag is stuffed with canned food, some clothes and other equipment that might come in handy.

All the shirts, skirts and pants fit the style of the 1890s to make it easier for you to blend in. Francis had even been so kind to give you a quick history lesson that covered all the basics.

-

The cattleman revolver feels unfamiliar and heavy in your hands as you study the weapon more closely.

"Do you know how to shoot?", Francis asks and crosses his arms infront of his chest as he leans against the edge of the table.

The closest you have ever come to working a gun was reading about it in Arthur's journal, but admitting that might make Francis change his mind about the whole thing.

"Of course.", you lie with full confidence and slide the revolver back into the holster.

-

In the beginning you were a bit disturbed by the sight of the weapon attached to your belt. Feeling the weight of it now and the way it sometimes brushes over your thigh...it brings you some comfort. Comfort, knowing that you have the means to protect and defend yourself.

If only you have been aware over how soon you'd have to use that thing.

-

"There is an abandoned settlement called Colter nearby.", Francis explains and points at a spot on the map that is spread out over the table. "They will be hiding there after that whole ordeal in Blackwater."

This would be your chance to join the gang and get close to everyone. The mere thought of actually meeting these people fills you with both excitement and anxiety. You don't know any of them and it makes you wonder how they'll react to you.

"The winter was particularly bad that year so make sure to move quick and don't get lost.", he says, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Don't worry."

-

Yes. Don't worry, I said. It will be fine, I said.

Nothing could have prepared you for the pack of wolves that had shown up right after you traveled back in time. Not a single bullet had hit its mark, but the ear piercing noise from the shots had driven them away.

Everytime you recall that encounter in your mind, the beat of your heart picks up frantically and you hear your blood rushing in your ears. The experience had scarred you for sure.

Finally, the snowstorm seems to calm down and your vision clears up again. As you blink the remaining snowflakes away, you spot smoke in the distance. Could that be the settlement?

Without a second thought you pick up your pace and quickly make your way towards the dark pillar of smoke. It's further away than you had anticipated, but after a while you arrive at the place just to be met with...well, no one.

The fire has died down and there is not a single soul to be seen in the area. You notice that the wood is still slightly warm though so whoever had camped here left only recently.

Your eyes wander around, trying to find a sign, anything that could indicate where that person might have gone to. There is only one set of footprints in the snow, accompanied with prints that look like hooves.

It could be someone from the gang who is out hunting at the moment. It's also possible that they went back to the others so maybe these tracks could lead you right to their hideout.

With a new found hope you quickly follow the tracks. Even if it isn't anyone from the gang, that person you're searching for could still give you shelter or food. Any type of help is welcome, really. You're in no position to be picky at the moment.

The tracks lead up a mountain and you see something dark laying on the ground. A pit forms in your stomach as you approach it and recognize what it is.

The sight infront of you is revolting and you fight back a gag. A horse is laying spread out in the snow with its stomach shredded to pieces and the insides hanging out. A foul stench penetrates your nose and you abruptly turn away.

Whatever happened here, it hadn't ended well. Weirdly enough, the horse is the only dead body here though. There is no sign of the owner and you stumble upon more footprints.

It must be the same person from the makeshift camp, by the looks of it. At least the size and shape of the boots are similar. You keep following them and swallow a lump in your throat when your eyes fall on blood. It seems like the person got hurt as well by whatever attacked the horse.

Could it have been wolves? Perhaps even the same ones that wanted to make a meal out of you? You banish the thought before it could make you panic. Now is not the time to contemplate about your near-death encounter.

Someone obviously needs help and that is the whole reason why you're here in the first place. Just because the person in need of help isn't the one who you're actually here for, doesn't mean you should abandon them.

The footprints lead around the mountain and with lots of huffing and panting, you climb over rocks and duck under them. It's exhausting your body more than anything you had ever done before and your muscles grow heavy.

"Hello?", you yell out into the vast nothingness and calm your breathing to be able to focus on listening for a response. Nothing.

You give it another try, but again nothing happens. Frustration boils up inside your chest and you mutter a few curses to yourself.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Now you're not only extremely tired and worn out from this unnecessary hike, you're also way off the trail that leads towards Colter and who knows if you will even be able to find your way back.

Sure, you could easily follow your own footprints, but by the way your luck has been the past few days, another snowstorm will most likely ruin that plan. Unless the thing that killed the horse earlier comes back to put you out of your misery as well.

Perhaps Francis was right. Perhaps you were being stupid and naive to think that you could possibly travel back in time to-

"Help!"

There it is. A voice. A person! You bite back a relieved sob and take a deep breath to answer the call.

"I'm over here!", the other person answers and you jog towards the source of the voice.

As you peek over the edge of a wall, you're being met with a pair of glassy, grey eyes. A man with long black hair and messy clothes, is sitting in the snow and looks up to you.

"I didn't think I'd meet anyone out here.", he jokes with a raspy voice and you climb down the wall to kneel next to him.

His face is covered in blood and there are deep wounds on his right cheek. It looks like claw marks.

"What happened?", you ask breathlessly as you hurry to open your bag.

"Wolves. A whole pack of 'em." His answer comes out more as a grunt than anything and it's obvious that talking alone brings him too much pain.

You fish out an alcohol bottle and pour some of the content onto your handkerchief. Gently, you dab the cloth on his wounds to disinfect them and he let's out a harsh hiss.

"I'm sorry.", you mumble apologetically, but he simply waves it off. He knows you're only trying to help.

None of you are saying anything while you tend to his wounds and your mind is racing with thoughts and questions. What will you do now? The man doesn't look like he can stand up and you don't have the means to carry him down this mountain.

But even just considering the option of leaving him here to the elements makes you feel a tang of guilt in your chest. Leaving him alone means leaving him to die and you don't know if you can live with that.

"Do you think you can get up? I can't carry you, but if you lean on me we could make it down this mountain.", you suggest and the man opens his mouth to answer you.

Before he can even bring out a word, a gunshot cuts through the air and you let out a startled noise. Another person? This is starting to become quite a party.

Yelling can be heard from a distance. A man. No, it's two.

"Marston!", one of them screams from the top of his lungs and the bleeding stranger infront of you responds almost immediately.

It doesn't take long for the others to find you and you stand up from your spot. The two men are standing on the edge of the wall and one of them jumps down. The next moment you find yourself at the end of a gun.

You lift your hands and take a careful step back while your eyes are fixed on the weapon pointed right at your face.

"Who are you?", asks the man. He's wearing a thick blue coat and a worn cowboy hat with a few bullet holes in it.

"Put the gun down. She found me here and helped.", answered the injured guy and for what feels like eternity the man finally lowers the gun.

You allow yourself to let out a relieved breath as he turns away to face the one still sitting on the ground.

"You look even uglier than before, Marston.", he says to the injured stranger and something clicks inside your brain.

Marston? John Marston?

While your mind pieces all the clues together, the man who is still on the wall reaches out his hand towards you. A friendly smile graces his lips and you return it before taking his hand and letting him help you climb back up.

"You guys are lucky that we found you.", he says and you nod. He's right. Even with your plan to have John lean on you while you walk back, there is no guarantee that it would have actually worked.

You're pretty sure that you would have probably slipped and fallen to your certain death. A few moments later John and the other guy are on top as well.

"Arthur, carry him on your shoulder while we go back to our horses.", the man who helped you up the wall said and your eyes fall on one with the blue coat.

Is this Arthur Morgan?

You lock eyes with him after he throws John over his shoulder and he gives you a confused look.

"What are you starin' at?", he grunts.

Embarrassed, you cough into your fist and let out a flustered chuckle.

"I'm so sorry, sir. It's just that you remind me of someone, is all.", you hastily explain and turn away to prevent any more awkwardness.

What a great first impression you're leaving. As you all make your way back to the horses, the three men introduce themselves to you and you give them your name as well.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?", Javier asks and throws you a curious look over his shoulder.

"I had to leave my home. We...we got robbed and lost the house.", you answer. It's a lie that you and Francis have come up with.

If anyone asks you'd tell them that a gang robbed your home and burned down the house. No one can check your background if you tell them there is nothing left to check. At least that's what you're hoping for.

"You said 'we'. Is anyone else out here?", Arthur asks and shoots you a quick look.

"No. I'm alone now.", you answer which is not really a lie. You are alone indeed.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

Before you're able to thank him, Javier points at something in the distance.

"Guys, I think we got company."

A small group of wolves appear on the hill a few meters away from you guys and your heart sinks. The gunshot and all the yelling must have caught their attention or maybe it's the smell of John's blood.

Arthur hands him over to Javier and pulls out a shotgun as he walks towards the wild animals.

"I'll distract 'em. You guys go to the horses.", he yells over his shoulder and you and Javier start running.

A few shots are being fired behind you, but you don't dare to look back. Your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and adrenaline rushes through your veins. It's the only reason why you're able to move this fast.

Javier mounts his horse together with John and you climb onto the back of the one you assume must be Arthur's. Just as you turn your head to see where the said man is, he's already by your side and jumps into the saddle.

Without another word, the two horses start sprinting. The sudden acceleration startles you and instinctively your arms shoot forward to wrap around Arthur's torso. Then you notice something in the corner of your eye.

"We got more coming from the right!", you let the others know and grab the cattleman from your holster.

Thankfully, Arthur proves himself to be more than competent with his own gun and takes out the entire pack in a matter of seconds without you having to help out. At least that's what it looked like at first.

Another wolf jumps out from between trees right at the both of you and you extend your arm to fire a shot. It hits. For the first time you have actually hit something.

The rest of the ride goes by quietly with no deadly surprises. So far it's all going to plan (besides the fact that you almost got your face bitten off that is) and with a little luck and persuasion on your part they might even let you stay with them.

Once you reach the settlement, you slide off the back of Arthur's Tennessee Walker and take a step to the side when a large group of people start pouring out from the run down houses.

But the person who catches your attention the most is a man wearing a black coat and a red scarf. It's not his outfit that draws your gaze towards his direction, but more the energy he gives off. There is something about him that makes you feel like you have to be on your toes.

Maybe it's the authority that radiates off of him like the heat of a house on fire or maybe it's something else. Obviously, he's the leader of this group with the way he's barking orders. They don't seem to fear him though.

Then his eyes fall on you and he takes your whole appearance in. You recall a name from the journal as he approaches you with an extended hand and you shake it firmly.

"Dutch Van Der Linde. Arthur told me that you helped them with John."

You only manage a nod.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate that you went out of your way to help one of my men. Come on, let's head inside so we can talk.", he adds and leads you towards one of the cabins

There is a fire burning inside, but with all the holes in the roof and walls it does barely anything to keep the cold away. Dutch motions towards one of the chairs next to the fireplace and takes a seat infront of you.

Arthur's blue coat appears in the corner of your eye as he closes the creaking door and leans against it with his arms closed. Yes, Dutch said it would be a casual talk, but now it feels more like an interrogation.

Quietly you fold your gloved hands on your lap and wait for Dutch to say the first word. You plan on telling him only the most necessary stuff and would rather avoid getting tangled up in your web of lies.

"So, Arthur tells me you lost your home?"

You avoid his piercing gaze and look down at your lap.

"I did, sir."

On the side of your vision, you see him nod to himself.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Now, miss..."

Your head snaps up to look at him as he bends forward to get a better look at your face.

"This is a harsh winter and I'd feel bad sending you out in this cold all by yourself, so if you want, you can stay with us."

His offer makes you nod hastily and you try to mask your excitement. There is no need to make them suspicious with your eagerness. No person with a clear mind would be this happy to stay with a bunch of outlaws and you have to play the part.

"We may not be good people, but we care for one another. As long as you pull your weight, we will happily welcome you."

With these words you place your bag on the floor and open it up to reveal the canned food you have been traveling with.

"I got some food on me. Agreed, it's not a lot, but it's all I have."

A pleased look spreads over Dutch's face and he nod.

"It's greatly appreciated. Go find Mr. Pearson and give these to him.", he says and you throw your bag back over your shoulder after getting back on your feet.

Once you close the door behind you, you overhear Arthur say something.

"Are you sure about this, Dutch? It's another mouth to feed."

You hold your breath so you have an easier time listening in on them. Of course, he's right to be concerned about you becoming a member. By the sound and look of it, they're struggling to keep everyone fed.

"We have been through worse.", Dutch answers and a wave of relief washes over you. It's good to know that you won't get kicked out on the first day.

So where is this Mr. Pearson?

[prettyboykatsuki]

flash comms (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

hello hello ! as it says the tin, im opening up flash comms for the next week-ish up until the 26th

the comms are short. flat rate $7 for 1k words

ill take them thru ko-fi as usual.

basically - i'll have a period where they're open and three days in which i'll be posting them. and then i'll open up the slots again. it'll be 12 slots total.

no hard limits on what you can ask me for except for the following: no snuff, scat or feederism. shipfic and reader insert are fine. if you request smth nsfw, i may ask for a covered up img for of your id so i can see your bday per standard practice.

any ship is fine but if it's one that's gonna get me in trouble i might not post it anywhere lmao

writing for: bnha, jjk, bllk, hq, hsr, bg3, and rdr2

these are meant to be short please keep that in mind when submitting whatever prompt you are interested in having me write. if i feel like something is out of the range, ill let you know and we can workshop smth else

you're also welcome to have me write request that expands on an au that i've written or talked about.

i'll open 6 slots today (11/18) and i'll post them over the course of the next week (11/19-11/29)

i might open some additional slots depending on how quickly my brain allows me to do this but im also in finals crunch time so no promises.

how it works

same as my normal comms shoot me a dm telling me u are interested. pls have an age on yr acc before doing this

ill send you a google form to fill out where you can put your request and all other info

when you're done filling it - i'll direct you to ko-fi where you can pay

ill try to give you an estimate on what day your comm is getting posted but ill be working at them in a random order just fyi

first batch (6/6 slots taken) — 11/18

second batch - currently closed!

edit : the first batch took much longer then expected, sorry for delay.

i had a couple of people / mutuals who reached out, enough that it filled up my second set of slots. so i think i will work on finishing those first and then see when i can reopen commissions in general.

sorry to anyone who was hoping to comm me on this round!!

if you're feeling kind and dont have any interest in getting a comm from me / just feel like it, tips are also appreciated but not necessary. my ko-fi is here though if u like

[joelmillerisapunk]

get to know your moots

ty for the tags loves <3 @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ace-turned-confused @thundermartini @kedsandtubesocks and @reddedmiller

what's the origin of your blog title?: me being an uncreative basic bitch. but it's fine we are suffering through the consequences of the most uncreative username of all time.

OTP(s) + shipname: me, joel miller AND javier pena <3

favorite color: black and mint green (yes ik its very specific idk really what to say I even have a tattoo that is partially this color lol)

favorite game: rdr2, dreamlight valley, tlou, bg3, mariooooo, zelda, assasins creed

song stuck in your head: hold the line - toto and whatever is on my fic playlist

weirdest habit/trait?: probably a lot but the most annoying as a lot of us have mentioned is assuming no one really likes me. but also doing that thing where you start a task and then see something else that has to be done so by the time you have finished you've begun 50 other tasks

hobbies: video games, reading, writing stories, poems and music, pretending I can bake cute aesthetic things I find on Instagram reels, calligraphy, collecting sea glass and sea shells.

if you work, what's your profession? i worked on a cow farm

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? a sugar baby, someone who lives on a beach, but really anything in music bts or in front or a psychologist but instead I went to school two times for things I did not end up staying with haaaaaa

something you're good at: giving you compliments until you tell me to stfu

something you're bad at: i like this answer so same -> putting myself first, also as it's been said a few times socializing, and flirting

something you love: documentaries ommmg jdkfdakjf <3 <3, downtime when I can have it, also I always forget how much I love the sun until this time of year, hearing a favorite song you haven't heard in a long time, watching stuff with people whether its movies or youtube videos or shows

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: video games, music, joel miller, the octopus lifecycle, Shakespeare, fun bts facts of my favorite movies and tv shows (I could spend days upon days looking up facts about how movies and shows are made and the little details in each of my favorite movies and shows)

something you hate: when its too hot or too cold, when I do that thing and don't buy snacks to be "healthy" and then wish I had a snack and math.

something you collect: i was collecting miniatures until they all got lost in a move, sea shells, coca cola memrobilia, Marilyn Monroe memorabilia, coral, anything vintage, trauma, and wips

something you forget: what don't I forget

what's your love language?: acts of service, words of affirmation, physical touch

favorite movie/show: beauty and the beast, most keanu reeves movies as I've been binging them lately, lotr, how to lose a guy in 10 days, donnie darko,

favorite food: potatoes any day, any way, any form

favorite animal: cows, platypus', whales and dolphins

what were you like as a child? the quiet kid who was basically a mute because anxiety sucks and being perceived is frightening - lemme just fade into the floor

favorite subject at school? psychology, english because we could read Shakespeare and really cool books, science, music class, history, french, home ec, woodshop

least favorite subject? math and phys ed cause ya girl ain't a runner but yet they're all like "ohh its not that hard" but bro you're not even doing it

what's your best character trait? why are these questions so hard though? like idk my ability to make people feel comfortable?? i feel weird answering this lol

what's your worst character trait? i guess my inability to put myself first still and my dad jokes and sometimes I get quiet because I have a huge fear of rejection or abandonment

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? that I was on vacation instead of driving around for hours today or sleeping more that'd be great

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Beethoven, Shakespeare, my grandparents, Marilyn Monroe, John Lennon, Frida Kahlo, idkkkk

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): there's so many this is rude asking for one so I'll give you two series. recently I read late night texts by @jolapeno and the wolf you feed by @arcanefox207 these series changed my brain chemistry for the best. I could scream on every rooftop in the world about these to every person in the world like please READ THEM!!!

npt: @arcanefox207 @gothcsz @syd-djarin @sunshinehaze1 @sunshineispunk @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @604to647 @myownwholewildworld @evolnoomym @slimybeth69 @almostfoxglove @lotusbxtch @baronessvonglitter me smooching you all through the phone <3 <3 <3 cause you all deserve every ounce of love and joy in the whole world

[vanderlesbian]

rdr2 x autistic reader headcanons

saw someone else do this but i wanted to give my headcanons too! enjoy tehe... includes arthur, john, dutch, and charles!

gn!reader + no warnings / fluff

arthur morgan

arthur is so patient and understanding with you

from the moment you met him, you never felt the need to mask around him because he never questioned your behaviors or belittled you for them

if any problems ever arised, arthur would always be quick to come to your defense

hes very careful with you; he handles you like he's holding a butterly. not because he thinks youre fragile or incapable, but because he cares for you too much and never wants to hurt you

he also knows that youre sensitive to things and will take mental notes

if he sees that you cover your ears when something loud happens, he'll be sure to be quiet around you

if you express that you don't like how a certain food feels, he'll start bringing other options along to make sure you're eating

he's not very good at being upfront with his emotions, and you can't always catch onto his hints which ends up with you being confused

but he's trying to break that habit

all in all he's a very understanding partner who prioritizes you above all

john marston

lets be real john is also autistic

youre both very understanding of each others needs and its nice to be able to completely be yourself around your partner

in a relationship he can be very touchy sometimes, but he can recognize when you dont want to be touched. if hes unsure, he'll ask

he will wait or ask for permission to do pretty much anything

"can i kiss you?" "can i hug you?" "is it alright if we hold hands?"

hes definitely awkward but he just needs the confirmation

he is veryyy blunt but to you its a good thing

it makes me feel like neither of you have to worry about if the other is beating around the bush or something because both of you say whats on your mind LOL

both of you are trying to figure out this relationship thing together

from an outside perspective, people might think the two of you are moving really slow, but for both of you its a perfect pace

dutch van der linde

dutch is your biggest fan when you start infodumping

he will listen to you speak about whatever for days on end, and you'll do the same with him as he talks about whatever philosophical tangent he has for the day

hes so infatuated with you its crazy

you will finish your infodumping tangent and he will scoop you up in his arms and go,"you're so beautiful/handsome, you know that?"

like oookaaayyy huhehehehehhehhshsh

he will SPOIL you with things related to your special interest. anything he sees that he knows you'll like, he'll snatch it up so quick to give it to you

he'll definitely boast about you to the other members

"they're so INTELLIGENT and HARD WORKING...perhaps the rest of you should take a note or two"

he lets you fidget with his fingers because you like his rings

he makes sure that your shared tent is perfectly up to your standards

the feeling of the blanket overwhelms you? suddenly hes sending arthur out to fetch a new one

he definitely pampers you a lot and sometimes it might feel suffocating at times but not bc you dislike it, you just need a moment to recharge

you'll tell him you need a moment to yourself and he'll oblige

charles smith

the two of you love parallel play omg

you two will be completely silent while he makes arrows and you partake in one of your hobbies but its so comforting to both of you

charles will always be the first to notice when you start to get overstimulated, so he'll tell the others to quiet down, give you space, or whatever else you need to calm yourself

hes kind of overprotective of you, so sometimes you'll have to reassure him that youre fine

he just cares about you more than anything

now that im thinking about it charles is also probably autistic

he's usually very quiet but with you he'll never shut up because he knows that you'll listen and show genuine interest

he will craft things for you to fidget with omfg

he'll notice that youre very antsy with your hands or legs and one day you'll come back to your tent and see a small handmade doll sitting on your bed

"did you make this for me?"

"i noticed you play with your fingers a lot"

he's genuinely the sweetest ever and he will just have heart eyes for you all the time

[verdemoun]

I wonder, how's Kieran doing, from the side of his neurodivergency? Was it diagnosed? Does he get support? An AAC perhaps, seeing as the poor guy's semi-verbal? How'd the rest of the gang accept it? I'M JUST SO CURIOUS ABOUT HIM I AM HOLDING HIM I AM SHAKING HIM LIKE A TOY HOW IS HE HANDLING HIS NEURODIVERGENCY

I am so normal about Kieran

You come into my house, the certified kieran duffy hyperfixation page, ask about my blorbo, my boy, the sole reason why RDR2 has infected my brain and completely changed my ability to engage with any other form of media, while also addressing my special interest of neurodivergence as a fellow brain wonk and career disability support worker all while finishing with the line 'I am so normal about Kieran'? Like shit I mean can I take you out for dinner?? Marry me maybe??

I am also so normal about Kieran

kieran duffy is autistic thank you goodnight!

no i will write a 2k word essay. kieran is pretty mid-spectrum (brief pause to acknowledge spectrum language lowkey outdated and problematic but no universally accepted alternative) he has chronic anxiety and mild aversion to eye contact, misses a lot of social cues, is hyper fixation central, but executive function-wise if he had spent his whole life in any one time period he would have been a-okay at being independent with some adaptive strategies

side tangent literally the first conversation he has with mary beth is so autistic he completely misses a rhetorical question, happily answers it, and then jumps straight into 'you're very pretty'. he apologizes for being forward he can and does acknowledge social conventions but just autistic brain does not understand why. is aware his brain is not wonking in the same direction as other people's brains.

but so. many. common sensory issues are a direct result of advances in technology. sure in 1899 wanting to cover your ears during a gunfight is a minor disadvantage but you know what isn't?? having every instinct in your body tell you to run away from the overwhelming loud noises. it took more effort to go into a city than to avoid them. going from horses, campfires and comfortably worn in clothing to the constant noise of cars, searing of artificial lights and synthetic fabric with clothes tags? bad time. Bad Time.

the real big issue for kieran in timewarp au is the c-ptsd autism combo meal. in general, buddy's got trauma. very clearly articulates how bad being an o'driscoll was physically and mentally. his intro is literally colm grabbing his collar and slapping him. gets starved and threatened with genital mutilation and still begs to stay with the VDLs because he hates colm. talks about the absolute power and control colm has. anxious whimpers telling arthur he saw o'driscolls riding around. it ain't just hate he is terrified of colm. you ever have a hypothetical anxiety situation become real and feel that knot of dread as your skin turns cold? knowing your literal worst nightmare was unfolding. and in this case, worse than he imagined. yeah. that's what it would've been like when kieran got taken at shady belle. immediately knowing he wasn't going to survive. only thing he could do is make sure he protected the VDLs and he instead he talked. it's canon kieran talked, whether tortured or manipulated into talking he did. first people to treat him decent, people he considered friends, and he died feeling like he betrayed them.

timewarp means dying. memories of dying. personally hc eye gauging was first but even - being beheaded. intentional deliberate time taken to make a show of it and inflict maximum psychological torment knowing what's going to happen opposed to the immediate bang and bullet of being shot. already autistic chronic anxiety man helpless to stop what's about to happen. i wonder if he thought the VDLs would care enough to try to rescue him and tried to hold onto that faint belief or if he immediately knew he meant so little they wouldn't? he died as he lived - alone.

only to immediately be thrown into modern era. fending for himself for approx a month before the gang stumble across him. with those memories being recent. with the overstimulation of suddenly being thrown into modern era saint denis. he is a homeless autistic man with no idea where he is what's happening what is a car why are they so loud why are street lights so bright and he just went through literally dying. having all his anxieties and the memories of the pain of whatever he went through with the o'driscolls. and the guilt? he is so terrified of the consequences of talking and betraying the gang that he literally runs from lenny and hosea when they first find him in timewarp. a month of starving, surviving on loose change and corner store coffee and occasional apple he may have picked out of a bin and still chooses to run because he's so completely traumatized by being taken/betraying the gang.

it's a lot more ptsd and that anxiety around 'i talked' that lead to semi-verbalism with autism reinforcing it opposed to the other way around. it only takes a few days of gentle encouragement + food + safe warm place to sleep (first time since long before even riding with the o'driscolls) for kieran to get comfortable with nods or the occasional one word response and most of the gang are happy to leave it there because they get he's been through a Lot. lenny and hosea saw what happened to him. hosea carried his decapitated head to his grave. they're all struggling and learning to adapt to modern era. kieran locking himself in a room for a week, flinching at any noise or touch like he's been scalded just seems reasonable after what he's gone through.

except despite being stray dog starved he's still picking at meals obviously only eating the meat and veggies which he has always done so they don't really think to mention it. and he doesn't really start settling in. he just. sits in room. might tremble into the kitchen like a wee lamb at 2am when he thinks everyone's asleep, grab an apple and vanish back to his room. gang increasingly confused because kieran is completely avoiding eye contact but clearly listening, answering questions as he stares in horror at the dishwasher no matter how many times they've explained it and let him like try to figure it out realise it isn't some sort of torture device. but maybe he was always like that how many actually talked to him??

resident tech lad lenny tries showing him a basic AAC app but having to remember to 1. charge phone 2. use phone 3. open app 4. scroll until finding image that probably means what he wants because he can't read 5. click button until gang charades out whole sentence is a lot of steps compared to just fidgeting/staring until someone asks the right question. it gets frustrating because he knows the complete sentence is 'hi sean what's the deal with you always bringing home pizzas also is there any way you could please bring home the one that's plain cheese again??' but he can't read so it's just guessing based on images 'sean why pizza? please pizza cheese' when he uses the AAC. instead he can eat his cheesy pizza, make a point of getting sean's attention, point at pizza, nod and get the point of 'i really like cheesy pizza please can you get more' across all while still chewing.

bessie, who is a history professor and absolutely talks to autistic people on a daily basis is embarrassed how long it takes her to realize hey wait kieran is a) only leaving his room at times where sensory load is reduced b) stimming to soothe when confronted with something new or higher anxiety than usual and c) only has multiple syllable conversations about horses and fishing. he went from terrified rabbit to genuinely excited to be talking about those things only to shut down immediately again when the conversation shifted or something happened that spooked him. she introduces him to noise cancelling headphones, slowly, gently explaining what they are, giving him multiple options to say no because still a new weird sensation but the relief is instant. kieran looked around, realized he couldn't hear damned buzzing and cars and just beamed leg bouncing in sheer excited relieved joy.

it's a lot more figuring out what works for kieran through trial and error because the gang have not heard of autism and don't really get it despite bessie's best efforts to explain. sean absolutely hit her with the 'wouldn't that make everyone autistic??' and she snapped back 'wOuLDn'T tHaT mAKe EveRYoNe iRiSH'. but they're all going through adapting to modern era and can empathize pretty well with how overwhelming a lot of the modern era is. electricity does have a noise most people get used to but every single one of the timewarpers went through a phase of looking over their shoulder in mild irritation because it's constant until their brains learned to filter the sound. kieran won't and wears headphones to cope with it? sure thing that makes sense!

trauma brain is desperate for assurances of safety by avoiding triggers (loud or new noises, green clothing, strangers, anything unfamiliar=dangerous) while autism brain is screaming safety is found in routine so that becomes a very important thing. with no horses to look after his routine is very much watch tv, do gardening, help out around house because feeling helpful is a dopamine hit for him. it's a lot of letting him do things at his own pace because he is a people pleaser and will do anything if he thinks he is being useful even at his own expense. but 'being helpful' goal setting a really easy way to gently expand his comfort zone. grocery shopping was withdrawn meltdown inducing but the second he has a job like being asked to push the trolley he will merrily shop for hours because he's just focusing on one task. brain suddenly content ignoring things that would otherwise be overwhelming, and once all the neurodivergency in his brain decides grocery shopping is not a potentially fatal experience he's suddenly wandering aisles picking up things they forgot or content going to the grocery store alone because he wanted a specific thing.

after catching kieran self-medicating anxiety with alcohol they do go through the process of at least getting him on SSRIs which is a lot easier than going through the process of a full diagnosis of adult autism but it's already a footnote in his medical file because it's pretty clear to anyone with an ounce of neurodivergent awareness that he is textbook autistic. and honestly modern era for kieran: it's not better or worse than canon for his particular brand of autism but definitely different. he's actually more comfortable around people in general because the odds of running into someone who has committed murder is a lot lower than it was in outlaw circles. because of supports like noise-cancelling and sensory toys he's more curious about things that would have made him want to tear his flesh off his bones in the past. genuinely enjoys when the gang decide to catch the train somewhere vs the heart attack the idea would've been in 1899. instead of needing to retreat and stim and be alone he will catch himself getting distressed over something (it's sean putting away dishes with reckless abandon) and pull on a weighted blanket and be at peace again. still would rather be in 1899 taking care of horses because there was less things to get used to but he can get comfortable with new things and actually find new things he enjoys

plus the gang do genuinely care about him. it started as crippling guilt of not realizing he was taken by the o'driscolls until horsemen apocalypses but they almost all come around to him being a really pleasant guy and are more than glad to support whenever he needs it. like hosea will merrily encourage an infodump because he also really enjoys fishing. in a sad but wholesome way the gang don't really notice how neurodivergent he is because they just didn't pay enough attention to him in canon era to see how the manifestations of autism have changed. just yeah there's duffy he don't talk a whole lot but do not ask him about seasonal fishing unless you have 3 hours to spare. do not go into his room that is his space he has hosea's permission to react violently to people messing with his things and the whole posse will rain hellfire upon anyone who takes his snacks without replacing them.

with it being clear kieran is not the biggest fan of the AAC lenny learns and helps teach kieran basic ASL so on less verbal days he can still ask for things and join in instead of getting frustrated with himself. most of the people he regularly hangs out with know enough words for it to be insanely helpful. his most used 'sign' is flipping people off. the gang's whiplash actually getting to know more of his personality as he feels safer around them than he ever did in 1899?? he might be a gentle buffoon but he is also a sass gremlin. arthur complains once about it being the 17th time kieran has watched spirit stallion of the cimarron and kieran sweetly threatens to reverse saving his life if arthur tries to reach for the remote again. he'll join in making fun of lenny and sean for how obviously they are simping for each other.

[nutluvs]

musicians in love - fluff

javier escuella x fem!reader

hellooo! 🤍 🪻 this is my first rdr2 post! some things i should point out: • i take requests, i rarely do smut but i always do fluff and angst • requests can be of any rdr2 character, whether major or minor • expect a lot of posts of charles smith, he's my husband and i love him bunches. • i mostly do short writings, but i can also do headcanons if requested! 🪻 warnings for this piece: maybe a little sloppy; it's my first time writing for javier, don't yell at me. also i don't even know how long this is, but it's kinda long.

you never thought of yourself as a terrible singer—you felt you were alright. you just needed some rounding out over a few roughened edges, after you took a few years off of your singing practice. not only did you need practice, but you needed confidence to be what you truly wanted to be: a singer. out in front of crowds in bustling cities all over the country, that's where you wanted to be. you wanted to use your own voice to please the public and provide entertainment in the grand theaters. but you resorted to the life of an outlaw, making reckless decisions, and now you knew that you couldn't ever be something as wonderful as a singer. it brought you down more than anything.

however, with your good friend javier, you lightened up significantly. he knew what your struggles were. he had to go through these same feelings at least once, maybe twice. he sang too, and quite frequently. not often in english, no, but he taught you a few a thing or two, some mexican spanish songs mostly, and you'd harmonize. compliments of your voices flooded in from the listeners nearby once you finished your duet.

"ah. you learn well and fast, mi amiga." javier praised gently after the crowd dispersed, nudging his shoulder gently against yours. you smiled sheepishly at him, your cheeks blooming in a light pink hue. "oh, you flatter me, javier." you sighed out. his deep brown eyes softened at your flushed face, and he couldn't help the smile that etched onto his lips as well. how he wanted to tell you that he was eager for any attempt to make your heart race, but he was just unaware if you felt the same or not. he didn't want to get used to directing flirtatious spews of words at you, just to be turned down. it wouldn't be worth it. however, javier could never just.. ignore his feelings for you. you were a kind soul, soft and delicate with one of the prettiest voices he'd ever heard. you had talent in music, identifying chords and defining them well enough. it wasn't so easy to find a bandit possessing real musical talent like you. you also took good care of him. you had patience, listening to him when he needed to discuss anything that bothered his calmly flowing day, and you always provided advice whether or not the issue was big. he liked you a lot. but his worry of rejection was pushing his confidence down. you were perfect to him, and he didn't want this failed opportunity to seep down the drain. what he didn't know was that you felt very similar.

your eyes trained down to javier's scarred fingertips as they delicately and idly plucked at the guitar strings. you loved his passion for his instrument and the music played with it, you loved the soft tones of his voice as he drew a handful of folk in the gang with each lyric. it wasn't just his musical skill you loved, but you loved his care for the gang and his personality, loyal, friendly. only sometimes was he a bit arrogant... you could deal with it when he was, and it wasn't like you disagreed with his vain behavior. his eagerness to save john when he was up in the mountains after a grizzly wolf attack, how quick he went when bill got caught by bounty hunters. he wanted only the best for his close ones. javier was just perfect in your eyes. a wonderful friend, someone you wanted to keep. you wondered what it'd be like to keep him forever as your love. the man noticed your lingering gaze, and he hummed gently to catch your attention. you looked right up at him. those pretty eyes, swimming with a wholesome light. "what is it?" you asked. "nothing, nothing, no worries. you just looked like you were zoning out," javier answered, looking at the strings of his guitar again before back at you. "i know you have a tendency to do that..." he pointed out in a humorous tone, and you laughed. the way you smiled, and the sound of your laughter... damn it. he had to bite back a groan and look away to cover up the furious scarlet that rose to his cheeks. his heart pounded hard in his chest, and he thought you heard it due to how it thrummed. he wouldn't get over this love for you. now that he thought a bit more about his feelings, he learned had to confess at one point or another. he had to do it, even if he was shy. it would be whatever if you didn't like him back, you'd still be friends. "listen," javier started. "you're special to me. very special to me. it's.. weird, it is, but, you.. you are mi corazón. i love you dearly. this might be stupid to you, you might not love me back, but.. i just wanted to tell you." your lips remained parted in surprise as the, first sappy, then insecure words left his mouth. you began to grip and fist your skirt, looking at your knees shyly. you hadn't the words to reply, you were oh, so stunned. "i'd understand if you don't love me back." he blurted. you both remained quiet momentarily, but his confidence was contagious, and it bloomed in your belly as you leaned a little closer. at first you moved hesitantly, but your leaning turned to a needy lunge as you cupped his flushed cheeks in your soft palms. what happened next was a blur to the both of you—your lips meeting in a swift kiss. you flinched lightly when you felt his hand rest on your back, and you retracted. your eyes were wide and so were his, but eventually, his grew soft once more. he grinned, "so you do love me back."

ohh stupid love stories thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed <3

[kittykatkatelol]

★Welcome to my Hell lovelies<3

(accessible, plain text, no flashing intro here: link)

You can call me Daimon/Daímonas, Val/Valentino, Micah, Faraday, Maxwell, John, Dixie, Barty, Makarov, or Jack

My pronouns include (but are not limited to): it/itself, loverboy/loverboyself, moth/mothself, ne/nem, he/him, ve/vem, luv/luvself

I'm genderfluid + xenogenders + mspec biromantic lesboy ~ oriented aroace - asexual + ACRflux + greyromantic ~ physical nonhuman + fictionkin + demonkin + ockin + therian ~ cripplepunk ~ adhd + autism(?) ~ plural (probably) ~ polythesist satanist ~ multishipper

My links: A03 ~ Pronouns.cc ~ StrawPage ~ Roblox and Discord for moots (ask over dms) ~ my memories of hell+my demon appearance ~ filter tag list ~ my rdr2 side blog @shhhhtotallynotmicahbell

This blog is 13+, I curse like a sailor and reblog/post suggestive shit. I try to tag things appropriately, but I am not responsible for whatever you may find here - I suggest you leave if you are under 13

The main content is shitposts + reblogs + occassional art and/or oneshot/fic update

thomas jefferson's (from hamilton the muscial) biggest fan - the number one hermes defender - biggest hater of the brotherhood of steel

My highest kin(s) is currently John Hancock from Fallout 4 + Dixie from Fallout 4: Nuka-World + Vulpes Inculta from Fallout New Vegas

My full kin (fictionkin + otherkin + therian) list:

Valentino from Hazbin Hotel

Barty Crouch Jr from Harry Potter

Roxanne Afton a FNaF OC of mine

Micah Bell from Red Dead Redemption 2

Demonkin

Vladimir Makarov from the OG COD MW trilogy (specifically mw3)

Maxwell Roth from Assassin's Creed Syndicate

John Hancock from Fallout 4

Dixie from Fallout 4: Nuka-World

Funtime Foxy from FNaF

Faraday from Fallout 4: Far Harbor (slightly AU'd version of him)

Kellogg from Fallout 4

Vulpes Inculta from Fallout New Vegas

Jack Kennedy from DSaF

White Persian Cat therain

Roxanne Wolf from FNaF Security Breach

(otherlink) Sylveon from Pokémon

(this is subject to change at any time)

My current fixations are currently:

Fallout

COD (just all of it it's a big special interest)

-

My favorite music artists are:

Scene Queen

Yungblud

Falling in Reverse

Palaye Royale

Marina

Melanie Martinez

Baby Bugs

Olivia Rodrigo

Måneskin

Mitski

-

My fandoms/interests:

Hamilton (musical and historical)

EPIC the musical

Death Note

Heathers (both musicals and movie)

Little Nightmares 1 & 2

Fallout

FNaF

Cooking Companions

Percy Jackson (I have only finished the first series, and I do not want spoilers, hence why I don't interact with the fandom but i really like it lol)

Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss (literally no clue what the creator did but I don't support her since I watch it all pirated and don't have the money lmao)

Call of Duty (I love all the early stuff (haven't played any black ops though) but especially the original modern warfare)

SIX The Musical

DSAF (specifically the 1st and 2nd ones, I don't particularly enjoy the final one)

Red Dead Redemption 2

Heartstopper

My Little Pony

Legend of Korra

-

Current favorite songs:

(all of theses lists are subject to change at any time)

I tend to use typing quirks (example: Hello ! / what ? / Hmm , / Huh .) or cursive fonts ~ please tell me if you need me to not use said quirk(s) when replying :)

I use tone tags quite often since I myself have a hard time figuring out other entities tones - you do not have to do the same for me though it would be highly appreciated

DNI: anti-xenogenders/neopronouns ~ TERF ~ anti-endo ~ homo/transphobic ~ anti-fictionkin ~ anorexia/ED blogs ~ christian centered blogs ~ Valentino hate blogs ~ just assholes in general

My boundaries are:

no sexual stuff ~ I might be Val but that doesn't mean I like sex

no mouth gore/puke ~ i genuinely hate it and it makes me ill (I'm cool with most gore but mouth stuff just grosses me out)

no weight comments like ever, please

no sending things of dead moths

no sending me stuff specifically about Val getting tortured

no asking me to donate to stuff through asks, especially if I don't know you ~ I'm not financially independent and just don't have the cash even if I wanted to donate ~ any asks asking that will be deleted

I love being tagged in stuff, but if it is a picrew, I request you don't tag me in it IF it the whole game is "make irl you" or something along those lines

do not involve me in shipping wars

I am okay with Angel Dust kins interacting, but please do not try and befriend me

I request no fellow Valentinos try and befriend me (aka please no doubles)

Also, I do not support JKR (the creator of Harry Potter) though I am still in the HP and Marauders fandoms - I dislike Harry Potter itself and only engage in the fandom side of things that is also highly against JKR

User tags:

val's little hellhole (for all general posts/shit posts, never reblogs)

heaven doesn't want me and hell fears me (vent posts)

the summoning circle (asks & strawpage asks+drawings)

valentino writes (for my writing)

charles tag !! (for my bestie @/bxtteryacid !! (you = bestie sorry not sorry >:3))

CJ tag :3 (for la bestie @/p4rty-rockaa :3)

hoarding moth (for identity reblogs 4 my hoard + posts about my genders)

moth val's art (for my art)

fictionkin asks/answers (for any/all asks/questions I get related to fictionkin)

the moth attempts to learn french (shit posting about me trying to learn french)

banner and pfp are both from Fallout 4, in-game screenshots (banner is Nisha's area in the Disciples territory in Fizztop Mountain - pfp is a screenshot of Dixie)

I'm open to questions about my identity(s) ~ intro may update in the future ~ Other than that, have fun :)

✨️ to be cringe is to be free ✨️

. .

. .

In all of my lives, I regret nothing.

I'd do it all again.

No hesitation.

-

Last up dated: 2/17/25

[spewagepipe]

Spewage Litmus: Red Dead Redemption 2

I quit playing RDR2 shortly after the first tutorial chapter ended. I'll be the first to admit that I did not really give this game a fair chance, but, never has a video game filled me with such profound exhaustion and despair as RDR2 managed in just a few hours of play. I simply could not go on.

REJECTED [INCOMPLETE]

The moment that I quit the game was shortly after visiting the game's first gun shop, where I perused a catalogue of the game's weapons. For the most part, I could barely tell the different weapons apart, but I was able to apprehend quickly enough that there was a loose power-versus-price "Jedi Curve" going on. Cheap, crappy guns for the starting player, and then expensive, effective guns for the player who has earned more money (from using the crappy ones).

It was, for me, like staring at a treadmill.

I've played enough games to experience firsthand the well-documented psychological phenomenon where extrinsic rewards overwhelm and undermine intrinsic ones. That is to say: even if the gunplay is fun at first, over time you'll care less and less about the fun of using your current weapon. What you come to care about instead is how the current gun can help you earn enough cash to buy the next gun.

The idea of endless growth is exhausting, but what I find even more exhausting is the way that the compulsion to endlessly grow will destroy the intrinsic joy of the activity.

And yet, when you look at the catalogue, it's easy to fool yourself. The growth isn't endless! Just flip to the back page. There it is, The Final Gun. The end of the treadmill, for 580 pretend dollars. But, of course, by the time you have $580 to spare, you'll be lucky if there's even a single outstanding mission where you can use it. The Best Gun isn't something you're meant to ever play with, it's just bait – it's there to keep you on the treadmill until the credits roll.

I have no idea if any of what I've just said is actually true of RDR2 – as mentioned, I never finished the game. It's just the breakdown of some of the thoughts and emotions that passed through my brain in those moments as I flipped the pages of that gun catalogue. But at the time, I actually wasn't feeling exhausted. In fact, I was energized, because the reward from the side-quest I had just completed was any single weapon, free of charge.

I thought I was dismounting the treadmill. I would buy The Final Gun, for free, right here as the game was barely starting. There would be no growth; I would chase no upgrades. The compulsion would be silenced. I would be able to enjoy the gunplay for its own sake.

Too good to be true, I suppose.

Instead, I was informed that the gun I had selected was not for sale. Confused, I looked online for clarification, and learned that this particular gun, although shown in the catalogue, cannot be purchased until it is provided as part of a mission in the game's final chapter. So you can only have the final gun when the game ends – simple as that.

Frustrated and disappointed, I sifted through the other guns for a little while. After ruling out all the story-locked content, I found that the best gun available to me was... a modest improvement over one of the guns I already possessed. Ah. Now, I understood. What I had been given was my first hit of opium for free.

The magnitude of my disappointment – of having a joyful experience dangled in front of me and then snatched away like that – hit me like a freight train. I lost all will and desire to play, I uninstalled the game, and I went to bed.

[sapphic-outlaw]

Thinking about my first playthrough in RDR2. I had been playing RDO on and off for over a year and didn't give a shit about the story, but gave in and decided to play it because my TikTok followers kept telling me to.

So I did, and I rushed because I thought I wouldn't enjoy it. I was startled the first time Arthur started singing while riding, and then I stopped and listened. It made me so happy, such a small but lovely detail and that was pretty much the turning point for me, where I knew I was in love with the game. But I kept rushing, more or less because at this point I didn't realize that there was so much more to it than the main story.

Then suddenly Arthur got his diagnosis and I realized just how attached I was. Thought I had more time. I knew the story ended in tragedy, I mean I had been making RDO content for a few months at that point so it isn't too shocking. But Arthur getting his diagnosis still shredded me to pieces.

I didn't get to finish my first playthrough because I accidentally corrupted it, but ultimately, I'm kinda glad. I don't really feel like I earned the ending. I literally just went from story mission to story mission and hardly stopped for anything else. Didn't do any optional camp missions. Didn't even ever hang around in camp long enough to hear fucking anything. I missed WAY too much.

So now when people are asking on Reddit, TikTok, etc. for tips on their first playthrough, I tell them to take their time, especially if you don't intend on playing again, because there's SO much you can miss.

[sushisocks]

hi i just finished rdr2, really love your stuff (FINALLY a blog that properly info dumps!! keep them coming please!!). i don't know if this is your thing, but the song I Gave You All by Mumford & Sons makes me think of arthur so much because each lyric corresponds so perfectly to his ending. obviously it's in the song title (arthur's "i gave you all i had"), but the lines "how can you say that your truth is better than ours?" and "you rip out all i had just to say that you've have won" makes me wonder what arthur's last thoughts really were?? the song has a very bitter tone, which is opposite of the game, but i can't actually tell what arthur's last words are supposed to mean, especially with him repeating "i tried...i did." were the "i dids" meant to be a plead for mercy (to remind dutch of his lifelong loyalty in hopes that he's spared from a violent death) or was it meant to be sympathetic (to indicate that they were both doomed men who were only trying their best)? or was it an apology, like "i did all i could, but it wasn't enough"? knowing his level of self esteem/guilt i think arthur would feel a very heavy obligation and responsibility, so it makes sense for him to say "i did all i could, but it still wasn't enough because i was not good enough," but he seemed to be very accepting of his death. sorry if this was rambly/late to the party, i would love to hear your thoughts about it!!!

Oh, Anon, this is the sort of thing I LOVE seeing in my askbox, I am kissing you on the lips rn for giving me the permission to talk about this so lets TALK about it!! (Sorry it took me a minute to get to it, I had to rotate ur questions in my mind for a bit so I could best formulate my thoughts, you know how it is)

First off, I Gave You All by Mumford & Sons is SUCH a good RDR2/Arthur song, I agree hugely on this, and it makes a LOT of sense for the ending notes, especially on a High Honor/Save John run. I've been listening to it on repeat since I saw ur ask, all while typing this up, and I got a lil emotional at times man. I love music recs and while I know some Mumford & Sons songs this was a recontextualization I very much needed in my life thank u <3

The rest of this is LONG so putting in a read more to save my mutuals lol

Okay, so, I now have a LOT of thoughts about what's going through Arthur's mind and what he might've meant at the end of his last mission, so lets get into it. To begin with I want to list out the lines that are said in this scene, so we're all on the same page. (Helpfully and lovingly pulled from the gamescripts wiki blog, which my life has revolved around for the past year and a half)

Dutch van der Linde: It is over now… Arthur. It’s over. Arthur Morgan: Oh, Dutch… he’s a rat. You know it and I know it. Micah Bell: He’s sick… he’s dying… he’s talking crazy. Pinkerton: There! Up there on the ridge! Arthur Morgan: (to Dutch) I gave you all I had… I did. Dutch van der Linde: I… Micah Bell: Come on. Dutch… let’s go, buddy. We made it. We won. Come on. Arthur Morgan: John made it. He’s the only one. Rest of us… no. But… I tried. In the end… I did. Micah Bell: (to Dutch) Come on… let's go. We can make it. Come on, Dutch… come on!

So WHAT is going on here? Surface level, this is the last appeal to Dutch. The last battle of wills between Micah and Arthur, where Arthur is STILL trying to make Dutch see sense. I think it's an important part of Arthur's character to understand that he believes, until the very bitter end, that there's a chance for him to reach through to Dutch. It's the main reason he heads back to camp, after saving Abigail. Milton has told him Micah is the rat, and Arthur believes that if he can just get back to camp and tell Dutch the truth, that will be it. He, erroneously, believes his word alone will be enough.

But the thing is, in my opinion, in a way Arthur is RIGHT! He DOES reach through to Dutch, but he has to die for it. That is what the "I gave you all I had" line is for.

It is Dutch, unsure who to believe. It is Micah, screaming for Dutch to listen to him. And it is Arthur, gently reminding Dutch: I devoted my entire life to you, all that I know has been with you, all that I am has come from you.

Arthur would have gone to the ends of the Earth for Dutch -- he would be grumbling and complaining the entire time, but he'd still do it if Dutch asked. He is, in this moment, telling Dutch, I gave you all I had and you took it, there is nothing left but my death, what reason do I have to lie?

It is the crack in the wall, a small moment of clarity for Dutch, which has him leave them both on that cliff, which has him turn up again 8 years later and kill Micah. Not enough to turn on Micah right away, but enough to truly have Dutch stop and reconsider. Because with those words Arthur is not only speaking on his own behalf, whether or not he knows it. He is reminding Dutch of everyone else who has died for him; Grimshaw, Molly, and Hosea, as the most notable ones, I think. Arthur slots neatly in with those three as people who truly devoted their everything to Dutch, gave him all they had, of life and time and energy, and were served nothing but death, destruction, and heartache in return.

It stuns Dutch; for once he is truly speechless, having to reckon with Arthur's words and what they mean, what they imply. Micah knows Arthur's words are more impactful, and keeps trying to sway him to his side, for ends we can only really guess at. But we already know there's no chance Dutch will go with Micah at this point. But he also wont stay with Arthur.

Then: "John made it. He’s the only one. Rest of us… no. But… I tried. In the end… I did."

One of Arthur's main objectives in Chapter 6 is saving as many people of the gang as possible. The Pinkertons are closing in and, while Arthur believes that it's just bad luck until Milton tells him otherwise, he still hopes for the best outcome possible, for the women and children, as he says.

Which is why he says John made it. Because to Arthur, John's making it, means the women and children making it. It means Abigail, Tilly, Sadie, and Jack, all waiting at Copperhead Landing, are not waiting in vain. It is the reassurance that they will be fine, and the idea that John might finally actually step up and be the father Arthur has so desperately wanted him to be for Jack. To Arthur, John making it is the best outcome.

But he still wanted to save as many people as possible. Dutch, Javier, and Bill included. They were still Arthur's friends and family. They still mattered to him. But I think Arthur realizes, dying upon that cliff, that there's no way out for them anymore. They'll get off this mountain and continue their way of living, and the government will keep hunting them. He is essentially saying the rest of them are just as doomed as Arthur is, even if Arthur is the one currently dying. And he tried.

I want to say that Arthur saying he tried, is both about saving the gang, and about being better. There are SO many interactions you can have in chapter 6 alone that's about being better than you were. Edith Downes, Sister Calderòn, Charles, Rains Fall, and Mary-Beth are just SOME that I can think of, at the top of my head. I think in this moment, Arthur is reaffirming to himself that at the very least he tried. He did everything he could, in the time that he had. He doesn't know if that's enough, or if it means more than what it is, but he tried, and that, to him, HAS to mean something.

It is him accepting that this is the end, and that he doesn't know!! He genuinely doesn't!! If he has done enough to actually change the course of events!! But God do I love the message of Arthur finding peace in having tried. In having done what he could, and seeing what changes he could, and knowing in that last breath, watching that rising sun, that he did make a difference.

Do I think Arthur is angry or bitter when he passes? Not in a High Honor/Save John run, no. I think he is disappointed and sad with Dutch. But I also think he has found a place within himself where he can accept that this is it, for him. And he is hopeful for those whom he has saved, who got out of there and live to see another day.

He gave his all, and he really really tried, and he finds peace in the end. How simultaneously heartbreaking and heartening isn't that?

[maleficore]

Saw someone else do it and I think I've done this before too, but the list has grown since then a bit so here's my current lineup of read dead wips that I'm working on!! :D Minus the stuff that's already posted on AO3 cuz I see no point in doing a synopsis for things that have left my google drive and you can go and read ahah.

Turned out loooooong so lookie under the cut if you're interested in knowing what I'm up to.

Morston Soulmate AU (title tba, multichapter, around 20-30k when finished) - An AU where you can feel all the injuries your soulmate gets, both minor and major ones. There's no soul marks, seeing your soulmate get hurt and connecting the dots is the only way to find out. Has a lot of time skips and focuses more on feelings than events, but starts out pre-canon when John almost gets lynched and works its way towards the end of the canon story. Chapters alternate between Arthur's and John's POV. Canon compliant :)

RDR2 "Modern AU" (title tba, multichapter, long as shit) - I only call it a modern AU for the sake of simplicity... I'm not sure if it counts as one. Set in 1999 and focuses on the case of Arthur Matthews -- a 36 year old adoptive son of the infamous criminal defence lawyer Hosea Matthews, who went missing without a trace for six months and then reappeared miles from his hometown, seemingly unharmed, but also... not quite right. Delusional, confused, suffering from some sort of memory impairment. The story is about Arthur struggling to adapt to being back home in a reality that is apparently foreign to him. Outsider's/John's POV, but not really shippy. It can be read as pre-slash, though.

My Self-Indulgent Jesse/Arthur fic (another title tba lol, it's too early to tell but I'm thinking multichapter? A collection of scenes from 1878 to 1899) - This one is for me and me only, though I will eventually post it 😂 Written in second person, like a reader-insert and can be read as one if someone wants to, but I am including Jesse's backstory and feelings that are way too specific to be immersive for anyone but myself... I'm working real hard to write it in a way that portrays growing up queer in that time somewhat realistically, so it's not always pretty, but I do try to keep it not that depressing. Features: Jesse's early-life backstory, the story of the scar, his first Gay Experience, how his brothers died, the ups and downs of his relationship with Arthur, why they eventually broke up for what felt like last time, how he got arrested (altered RDO storyline bit) and how he got back up with the gang. I'm planning to do a rough rewrite/fix-it of the canon story with him in it too, but that's... an "one day" thing ajsddjfk

Morston Omegaverse (title tba, one shot, around 10-15k probably? I can't keep things short, sorry) - Young-ish and freshly presented Alpha John, "Closeted" Omega Arthur. Ngl this one is smutty as hell... but! I think my take on omegaverse is rather fun (very transgendered) and it's porn WITH not without plot so something for everyone there lol. John's POV again + lotsa feelings, misunderstandings and some angst :) Just the way I like it.

Vandermatthews Daemon AU (had a title but ao3 yeeted my draft and I forgot what it was, oops)- I say Vandermatthews, but it's more of a "curious couple, unruly son" genfic than real slashfic 😅 This is supposed to be the beginning a series of oneshots from different characters' POV. This one is maybe a 1/3 done (needs a serious rewrite tho) and written from Hosea's POV. It's about him and Dutch finding and taking in young Arthur -- a very traumatised child who has undergone intercision and therefore lost his daemon. More of a collection of vignettes from that moment to when they take in John than a real coherent fic tho. The next one is going to be John's POV coming of age thing and we'll see where my brain will go from there. I want to do a separate big ass post about this one later because I have Opinions on the gang members' daemons that I need either challenged or validated...

1907!John/Isaac fic (title tba... a two parter, one set in the epilogue and the second is a RDR1 fix-it) - NOW HEAR ME OUT!!!!!! PUT DOWN THE GODDAMN PITCHFORKS FOR A SECOND PLS This is a plot bunny that Refused To Fucking Die. Isaac is obviously an adult in this (22), they have never met before, and the story begins in the months where Abigail and Jack were gone and John worked alone on Pronghorn ranch. It's not so much a romance (despite the slash) but more two people dealing with different types of grief in Very Unhealthy ways, okay. It's supposed to be a bit iffy because of that and the... 12 years of difference between them in this universe. I'm not trying to make this shit uwu or anything. It's also a bit of a daddy issues vent piece for me and I've been working it for MONTHS because I want to write this one right. This is the the fic I redacted in my last WIP showcase, but now decided that... fuck it. Here you go.

(Doubt anyone has made it this far, but if you did ily.. please lemme know what you think? My ask box is open for questions too... I love talking about the stuff I'm working on even if it's not posted yet ❤)

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 7

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Word count: 3724

Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

It's a beautiful day. Not a single cloud can be seen in the sky and the sun bathes you in a warm and comfortable light. You have snuck out of camp early this morning to head to your practice shooting spot.

Only this time you're not here with a gun, but with the time traveling device from Francis. The copper sparkles in the sunlight as you fidget with it around in your hand and you replay yesterday's events infront of your inner eye.

So the mission is finished now. Arthur is saved and won't die from tuberculosis. This means you've succeeded and it is time to return to your home, to your time.

But for some reason you can't shake off the feeling that this is horribly wrong. Maybe you have spend too much time amongst the outlaws and have gotten too used to this life. Even though it has been only a couple of months.

As you lean your head back to look up at the clear sky, you try to remind yourself of the life you have back in 1934. The friends and family. All of that seems like a distant dream as if they have never existed in the first place.

Fantastic. You've really outdone yourself this time.

Why can't you simply unscrew the lid and press the button? What's holding you back? A thousand questions rush through your mind, but you can't find an answer for any of them.

Well, it's not answers that pop up in your head, but rather mental images of the gang accompanied with the sounds and smells of the camp. Without realizing it you begin to hum one of the soft tunes Javier often plays on his guitar and if you focus enough you could hear Karen's hearty laughter as if she's right here with you.

"I knew you was a bad shot, but I didn't think you'd actually practice without a gun.", you hear Arthur's voice call out to you as he approaches with his horse. Quickly you store the small device inside your summer coat.

You lift your head to meet his gaze and he rests his hands on his weapon belt while he strolls over to you. His black hat is sitting deep in his face and he goes to rest on the rock beside you.

"Sadie told me that you lost your revolver so uh..."

The outlaw rummages in his satchel before taking out a Schofield Revolver and holding it out to you. Carefully you take it into your own hand and study it with widened eyes. "Are you giving this to me?"

"Yup. I wasn't usin' it and it would be a damn shame to have it just lyin' around. It's a fine gun."

With a wide smile, you lower the revolver and look at him. "Thank you, Arthur. This is very kind of you."

"Ah, it's nothin'", he answers and waves it off with his hand.

As a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, you take the time to inspect the Schofeld a bit closer. It's grip is made out of a smooth, dark wood and the barrel is a standard iron. Maybe it could be nice to visit the gunsmith and request to get some engravings done on it.

Almost immediately you banish the thought. Why get it customized when you will be leaving soon anyways? You should have actually done that before Arthur arrived here. This will only make your departure more difficult.

"Have you decided what to do? Regarding the letter I mean.", you break the silence and he makes a thoughtful noise.

"I ain't sure what to do.", he answers with his blue eyes set on something in the distance. "I don't know if I wanna see her, but then again..."

"You're curious." The words come out more as a statement than a question and he nods.

"I guess so."

Your fingers trace over the outlines of the gun one more time before you securely store it away and turn your head towards Arthur.

"If you don't want to do it alone then I can come with you.", you offer and he scratches his cheek as he contemplates it.

"This ain't your burden to carry.", he says with a sigh and softly shakes his head.

Your hand finds his arm and you fingers give it a light squeeze. "You're my friend, Arthur. It's not a burden. Let me help you."

Before I leave you.

He turns to meet your gaze and runs his hand over his beard before he gives you a slow nod. "Okay. Yes."

A smile forms on your lips and you both stand up from the rock you're sitting on and hop onto his horse's back. None of you talk during the ride, but that's okay.

Arthur seems to be deep in his thoughts and you don't want to disturb him. As you ride along the road and feel the wind in your face and it's grip onto your clothes you can't help, but think more and more that leaving is a bad decision.

Is it really the wrong call or is it my own selfish heart saying that it is?

"How are ya holdin' up?" The sound of Arthur's voice rips you out of your mind palace.

Your eyes fall onto the arms you got wrapped around his torso and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I'm fine. I won't fall off or anything."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant with what happened with the O'Driscolls."

Oh, that. Now that he mentions it, you realize that you haven't given it much thought at all ever since they got you out of there. Too much has happened for you to stop and ask yourself how you're feeling about it all.

"I'm okay, I think.", you answer with a distant voice.

"I know it ain't much, but as you said we're friends. If ya need someone to talk to..." He doesn't finish the sentence, but it's not needed.

"Thank you, Arthur. It means a lot to me."

He grumbles a few words under his breath which you don't quite catch, but you assume it's something along the lines of 'it's nothing'. The usual.

It doesn't take long to get to the house the woman is staying at. Only now do you register that you've never found out her name.

"What's she called again? She never told me." Arthur jumps off his horse and gives you a hand to help you down.

"Mary. Mary Linton."

His eyes scan the house before you and you can tell that he's more than just nervous. You give his shoulder a soft squeeze and shoot him a reassuring smile. "I'll be right here if you need me."

The corner of his lips curls up ever so slightly and he slowly takes off his cowboy hat before approaching the house to knock. You're way out of ear shot and you try not to stare at the scene that's unfolding on the porch too much.

Still you can't help, but shoot a glance here and there towards their direction. The conversation doesn't seem like a heated discussion or argument, but it's obvious that both of them are having a hard time with this.

You distract yourself with Arthur's horse by giving it some pats and talking to it. "I wonder how it's going, hm?"

Then you hear steps approaching and you turn around to face Arthur who appears as if he just came out of a bar fight. No fists were flying during the conversation, but he still looks beaten up.

"So how'd it go?", you ask with raised eyebrows and he goes to check the satchels on his horse.

"I'll go get her brother." His voice sounds reluctant as if he'd rather do something else.

Your fingers brush briefly brush over his shoulder again. "I think you're doing the right thing."

Arthur mumbles a 'maybe' into his beard and then motions with his chin towards the house. As you follow his gaze you notice that Mary is still standing on the porch and she waves once you turn to her direction.

"She asks if you'd like to join her for a coffee while I get Jamie.", he tells you and you nod to yourself.

"Are you okay?" You voice is laced with a layer of concern which he waves off.

"I'm fine. I'll see ya later then."

That sounds way better than to just stand around here, waiting for Arthur to return or walk all the way back to camp by yourself. With a quick goodbye to the outlaw you jog towards the house and shoot Mary a smile. She returns it.

"It's good to see you again.", you say as she leads you inside into the kitchen and you sit down at the square wooden table in the middle.

Her back is turned to you while she prepares the coffee, but you can still imagine the distraught expression on her beautiful face. Either out of worry for her brother or because of Arthur, but it's also possible that it's both.

"I really didn't think he'd actually agree to help.", she breaks the silence and your raise a brow in surprise.

"I don't know. Arthur doesn't strike me as the type to let down a kid, because of personal grudges or such.", you answer and she takes the seat across of you while placing down the cups.

Hot steam is emanating from them and you wrap your hands around your mug, welcoming the warmth. Mary let's out a defeated sigh.

"He was never on good terms with my family. Not Jamie though. The boy did look up to him, but my father on the other hand..." The sentence trails off as if she's recalling an unpleasant memory.

Her eyes are fixed on a spot on the table and you awkwardly cough into your first. Shortly after she snaps out of her daze and let's out a flustered chuckle. "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to bother you with all this."

"No, it's okay.", you quickly chime in. "If you need an ear that listens then I'd be happy to lend you mine."

A grateful smile forms on her lips. "Thank you. You're very kind."

I'm not. I killed two men.

Staying silent, you take a careful sip from the coffee to not burn your tongue. It tastes so much better than the one in camp.

"Can I ask you something?", says Mary and you give her a nod. "Forgive me if I'm crossing any lines, but...are you working for Dutch then? Since you ride with the gang."

A thoughtful hum escapes your throat as you tilt your head to think. Are you working for him? He has never officially send you out for a job, but you have helped the girls and Arthur.

"I don't know. I guess I kinda do?" Your voice comes out unsure and you furrow your eyebrows. "I mainly help around in camp."

"So you're not an outlaw." She nods to herself while she makes the statement. You have no idea if you should agree with that to not.

I'm a thief and murderer.

The words leave an echo in your mind and you quickly try to shake them off. This isn't a path you want to go down just yet. Maybe you will never even attempt to follow it.

Mary buries her face in her hands for a moment before brushing some loose hairstrands out of her face. "I gotta pack my things. Arthur agreed to meet me at the train station after he brings Jamie back."

"Can I help you?", you ask and she shakes her head.

"It's not a lot. I'll be quick." With this she stands up from her chair and excuses herself before hurrying out of the kitchen.

You feel kind of exhausted now. The conversation has left you spiraling and dwell on things you were successfully avoiding before.

But fortunately you don't stay alone with your own thoughts for too long. Mary did right on her word when she said she'd be quick, because a short while later she comes down the stairs with a single bag.

The woman who owns the house agrees to give you two a ride to Valentine and so you make your way to the train station. The entire time you and Mary are absorbed in a conversation about her past.

You're learning a lot about Arthur. Maybe even too much. It feels kind of wrong to find out that much about him while he's absent.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your husband.", you say and a layer of sadness covers her soft features.

"Yes, it's been tough to say the least. I miss him everyday."

The two of you fall silent until you arrive at your destination and thank the woman who drove you. While Mary pays for the train tickets, you take a seat in the far corner of the station and look out of the window.

In the distance you spot a familiar horse with two people on it's back. Immediately you recognize Arthur and you assume that the younger man behind him must be Jamie.

"My boy! My sweet boy!", you hear Mary exclaim in relief after the two enter through the door.

With a delighted laugh she wraps her arms around her brother's neck and quickly inspects him for any injuries or bruises. You decide that it's for the best if you stay behind for this. The three of them share a history after all and you don't want to be the third wheel (as the fourth).

Arthur takes the bag from Mary's hand the small groups makes their way out onto the platform and your eyes follow them through one of the windows. Jamie and Mary jump onto the train and you notice how her hand lingers on Arthur's for a moment when she goes to take the bag from him.

She says some things to him while shaking her head and shortly after the train departs, leaving the outlaw standing there by himself. Seeing this stirs something within you and a voice in the back of your mind tells you, no screams at you to go out to him.

With unsure steps you walk towards the door that leads to the platform and push it open. You don't know if it's a good idea to talk to him now. Maybe he wants a moment to himself, but your legs move on their own.

And so does your hand when it reaches out for his upper arm. His muscles relax slightly under your touch and he puts his hat back on. It's more than obvious that some buried feelings and memories have resurfaced with all that's been going on today.

"How about we have a drink?", you suggest and he takes in a sharp breath through his nose.

"Sure.", is all he responds with, but it's still more than you've expected. At least he agrees to not deal with this completely alone.

Of course you didn't anticipate for him to sit down with you and have a whole therapy session. It's enough for you to let him know that you got his back.

Together you make your way towards the smaller saloon of the two which is close to the church. You assume he doesn't want to visit the big one anymore after all the trouble he has stirred up with beating a man crippled and let's not forget about all the problems him and Lenny have caused that one night.

"Have ya thought 'bout gettin' your own horse?", he speaks up and you give him a puzzled look. "Charles told me how you stole his."

An offended gasp escapes you. "I did no such thing!"

Arthur lifts his hands as he cackles. "Alright maybe he didn't use these exact words, but ya still need one."

He isn't wrong. It has become quite tiring having to prepare a wagon or asking someone to borrow their horse for the smallest of errands. Things would be so much easier if you'd just get your own, but you have no clue how to pick out the right one.

Besides it doesn't matter anymore. You will leave soon anyways. Arthur pushes open the door for you and you nod as thanks as you pass him. That's when you spot Dutch and Strauss sitting together at a round table on the whole other side.

"Ah! Join us!", the leader calls out to you. "I was just talking to Herr Strauss over here."

"I'm just worried, Mr. Van Der Linde.", the Austrian begins and Dutch lifts his hand.

"Don't worry, my friend. I got it all covered."

Strauss' expression makes it clear that he's not quite convinced, but he does not protest. With a nod the old man gets up from his chair and leaves the saloon.

"What was that all about?", asks Arthur and Dutch waves his hand around the air.

"It's nothin'-"

"Mr. Van Der Linde!", someone yells outside and the three of you share strange looks. "You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!"

Arthur and Dutch push their backs against the wall and take a peek through the windows. Your own mind is filled with questions. Robbing him? Could this be...?

"Cornwall.", you mumble with low voice and Dutch locks eyes with you.

"I think you might be right."

No one says anything for a long time until Arthur hisses a curse under his breath and motion towards the window. "They got John and Strauss."

Is this it? Did you save the outlaw just for the two of you to die in this saloon in a town no one has ever heard of? You're so occupied with imagining every possible scenario that ends with your imminent death that you don't even pay attention to what the two men infront of you are talking about.

They slowly make their way towards the exit and as you try to follow them, Arthur pushes his hand forward to stop you. "Stay here. We'll deal with it and then I'll come get you."

The tone in his voice is absolute and he makes it clear that he won't accept any protests from you. He's right and you know it. With your inexperience you'd be more hindrance than help so you nod and keep low.

While the two men head out, you stay behind and press your back against the wall next to the front door. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears that you barely understand a word Dutch is saying out there.

One moment he's talking about a misunderstanding and the next you hear shots being fired followed by agonizing screams. Fear and worry grips you as you fight to stay in place. Everything within you is demanding to step out and help the others.

After what feels like forever Arthur's head peeks through the opened crack of the door and he waves you out of the saloon. Lifeless bodies are scattered across the street and you avoid looking at then.

"We need to leave! Now!", Dutch calls and the moment he finishes, a bullet dashes past your face. Too close for your taste.

Quickly you rush towards the others and take cover behind a pile of wooden boxes. As you look around you note with relief that the others from the gang look fine. No one got shot.

Strauss is cowering behind a wall with his arms over his head while Arthur, Dutch and John have their guns out. You wonder when John got here, but that's something you shouldn't occupy yourself with right now.

Bullets are raining from all sides and you take out the Schofield Arthur has given you. You don't expect having to join the fight, but you still want to be ready just in case.

Suddenly a distressed shriek cuts through the air and you turn your head towards the source. Strauss falls to the ground, holding his leg with both hands and you run towards him to help him up.

A heartbeat later John is by his other side and together you get the Austrian to Arthur and Dutch.

"Get him onto a wagon. You two push him towards the horses and Arthur and I will hold these morons back.", Dutch orders and everyone immediately gets to work.

With all your might you push the wagon Strauss is laying on together with John. It's a struggle to ignore the projectiles flying around your head while putting all your strength into getting yourself and the injured man to safety.

A bullet hits the wagon only inches away from your face and sends splinters flying around. Sharp pain explodes on your cheek and you carefully touch the spot with your fingertips.

As you inspect the bright red liquid on your hand another shot lands close to the first one and you instinctively duck. While muttering a several curses under your breath you spit out some of the blood that has run into your mouth.

"You doin' okay?", you hear Arthur yell over the chaos and you shout back a 'yes'.

I'm doing just fantastic.

Once you arrive at the horses John hoists Strauss onto the back of his while Dutch tells you to jump on his own horse. You don't quite hear what him and Arthur are exchanging, but by the looks of it it's that the outlaw stays behind to keep the men busy while you all ride back to camp.

The thought alone is enough to make your stomach turn upside down, but you know there's not much you can do. As much as you'd like to stay and fight by his side, you're aware that it would make thinks unnecessarily difficult for him.

For a brief moment you lock eyes with him and you hope that the look on your face brings the message across.

Stay safe.

He gives you no indication that he understands what you're trying to communicate. Either way, Dutch is already sitting infront of you in his saddle and signaling his white stallion to start galloping.

You throw one last look over your shoulder before Arthur disappears into the distance and you're left hoping and praying for his safe return.

Taglist: @shackspossum

[kirain]

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

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

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

Now a bit about the girls:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dilfenthusiast]

Camp Boys Comfort You After a Bad Dream

RDR2 Men x GN!Reader - Comfort/Gen

Arthur

- He’s a heavy sleeper but he’s gotten used to sleeping next to you so when you startle awake it’ll rouse him

- He’ll probably be a little groggy but when he sees you sitting bolt upright in bed he’ll sit up immediately too, listening for anybody around

- “What happened? Did you hear something?” he’ll ask, reaching for his gun by the bed, but when you tell him it was just a bad dream he’ll sigh in relief, before realizing it was serious to you

- “Well... want to tell me about it?” he asks hesitantly. He rarely talks about his dreams but he knows it’ll calm you down if you talk about yours, and he loves hearing you talk

- He listens intently, slowly laying back down and wrapping his arms around you when you do too, both of you falling back asleep to your quiet murmuring, feeling safe in each other’s embrace

Bill

- Bill would sleep through you waking up, but as soon as you reach for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly for yourself, he’d wake up slowly

- “You alright?” he’ll ask blearily, eyes squinting at you through the gloom, but he can tell you’re stressed by how you’re sitting

- “Aw, dreams ain’t nothing, darlin, c’mere,” he’d say after you told him why you woke up, sitting up and pulling you back against his chest, his warmth and solid presence grounding you

- He’d kiss your shoulders and give them a little massage as you sit with him in comfortable silence, the dream slipping away, replaced by the calm love he radiates

- He spoons you extra close as you lay back down to sleep, saying “I got you, baby, don’t worry”

Charles

- Charles talks a lot about the beauty of the night sky so when you wake from a bad dream you decide to leave your tent and go look at the stars, hoping to relax your racing mind before going back to sleep

- You head a ways away from camp to get away from the fire and lantern light and take a seat, looking at the patterns in the stars and thinking about the stories Charles told you about them

- Suddenly you feel a blanket around your shoulders and Charles is standing there, looking at you with concern in his eyes

- “I didn’t mean to wake you, I had a bad dream” you say and see his eyes soften

- He sits next to you, wrapping the blanket around you both

- “Sometimes dreams are the mind’s way of working out problems or concerns. Sometimes they’re not pleasant,” he says, kissing your temple, “do you want to talk about it?”

- You both sit, looking at the night sky, hoping to see a shooting star, until you get cold noses and toes and quietly return to your tent to sleep until the sun rises

Dutch

- Dutch often stays up late into the night, reading his novels, writing down plans, considering leads, and doing his own personal finances in his journal

- When you wake up from your dream with a gasp, he looks over, concern on his face illuminated by the dim lantern on his desk

- “Oh Dutch, I just had the worst dream” you’d sigh, the last fragments of the dream playing on your mind

- “My love, I am sorry. What can I do to make it better?” he’d ask, sitting next to you on the bed and taking your hands in his, kissing your forehead, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles

- Whatever you ask for, he’ll do. He likes it when you ask him to read to you, his smooth voice lulling you back to sleep but if you just need him to climb into bed and wrap his arms around you, he will, saying “it was time for me to come to bed anyway.”

- He runs his fingers across your cheek after you fall asleep, joining you in slumber soon after

Hosea

-Hosea is a light sleeper and your restless movements and soft noises of distress woke him up first and he’d gently shake you awake

- “What’s going on in that mind of yours, sweetheart?” he’d ask, a smile on his lips, hoping to ease the tension on your face

- “Bad dreams are mighty miserable” he’d nod, having had plenty is his time, rubbing soft circles into your arm with his thumbs while thinking of what to do to take your mind of it

- “Tell you what, I’m going to tell you a story. Whenever you like, just go back to sleep, okay” and he’d lay down next to you and start murmuring, his story told in hushed tones and whispers, just loud enough for you to hear

- The darkness of the night and the warmth of Hosea would make you sleepy again and listening to his soft voice next to you as he told his story would take your mind off the dream you had

- Your eyes would slip closed, and you’d mumble “I’m still listening” but as soon as he heard your soft snores he’d chuckle and kiss your temple and say “I can finish this story another time”

Javier

- Javier is another light sleeper and wakes up just as you do, confusion and concern on his face as he realizes it was you that woke him up

- “You ok, mi amor?” he’d ask, taking your face in his hand and kissing your cheek

- “Ah, I hate bad dreams. Always get them when I think about problems too much or when I’m scared about something,” he’d say, pulling you against his chest, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, “tell me what it was about”

- Whatever your dreams was about, whatever problem you might be worrying about, he takes the time to reassure you the opposite

- “You’re always safe here. The gang loves you and will protect you, and more importantly, I love you and I will protect you, no matter what,” he says, kissing your shoulder “there’s nothing I won’t do for you, corazón”

- You both lay back down and he pulls you in close to him and as you drift off you hear, “remember I’m always here for you”

John

- Sleeps through everything, but you gently shake him awake after a bad one, making him groan and roll over, a frown on his face as he looks for you in the darkness

- “It’s just a dream, darlin’, they ain’t real” he’d say, a little irritation at being woken up in his voice 

- “Yeah but it scared me pretty bad” you’d say, laying down and curling into his chest, wrapping an arm around him

- “Alright well, are you gonna go back to sleep now or not? I gotta get up early” he’d huff, but he’d pull the blanket back over you, tucking you into his chest with an arm around your shoulders

- “Tell me you love me, John,” you murmur into his warmth, snuggling as close as you can. You hear him hum before saying “you know I do. Now please be quiet.” 

- He hates being mushy but when he thinks you’re asleep he leaves a little trail of soft kisses across your forehead and whispers “Of course I love you” 

Micah

- Micah wakes up, being a light, restless sleeper himself, and finds you awake from your dream, staring into space as you think about what you just dreamed

- “You alright?” he’d ask quietly, his drawl not covering up the concern in his voice, hand reaching out to take yours in the dark

- “Well shit, dreams ain’t so bad. I thought it was something serious,” he says, laying back down and rubbing your back absently with a hand,trying to get you to relax and come back to bed

- “It was serious to me. Scared me to hell,” you’d say, pouting a little as you laid down next to him, arms crossed 

- He’d chuckle and nuzzle up to you, pressing soft kisses into your temple, “you ain’t got nothing to worry about so long as I’m here, sugar” he’d say before pulling you closer to spoon you against his chest

- “I’m going back to sleep now ‘cause I”m tired as hell, but you wake me if you get any more bad dreams”

-He falls back asleep very quickly and his soft snoring lulls you back to sleep too, warm in his arms

Sean

- Sean wakes you up, shaking you awake frantically, concern and uncertainty in his eyes as he hovers over you

- “You were being loud as hell, darlin’, what’s got you all riled up?” he’d ask, hand gripping yours tightly as he waits for an answer 

- “Just a bad dream, Sean, I’m fine,” you mumble, last tendrils of fear dissipating as you come back to reality and feels the blanket on you, the cot beneath you, and Sean’s warmth beside you

- “Aw, with the noises you were making I was hoping it was a dream about me,” Sean would chuckle, leaning down to kiss you, “wait, it wasn’t a bad dream about me, was it?” 

- “No, it was nothing, I’m fine,” you’d say, yawning as the absence of adrenaline left exhaistion in its wake, tension dissipating from your limbs to leave lethargy behind

- “You certainly are fine, my love” Sean would say, kissing you a few more times, “but, for what it’s worth, you know, you have nothing to worry about here, right? You know I love you, don’t you? Because I do. And so does everyone in this gang, we’d do anything for you,” words coming out in a quiet rush as he squeezed your hand

- “Of course I know that. I love you too, Sean,” you say, pulling him down for one last kiss, “but go back to sleep, I’m ok.”

~~ End ~~

(A/N if I didn’t write someone it’s just because I couldn’t think of anything for them, not because I don’t like them. Enjoy)