#miss grimshaw rdr2

[manicpumpkindreamgirl]

Wip so don't mind the fucky proportions/unfinished look but I have a point to make here

[ask-the-van-der-linde-gang]

MISS GRIMSHAW I AM GOING TO GIVE KAREN 100 BEERS YOU CANT STOP ME

''Oh, no you don't!''

[slaughter-kin]

it’s just a silly little cowboy game right? RIGHT?

[hihomeghere]

Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage

Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed. 

“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.

“Name?” The man asked with a smile.

“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.

“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.

“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.

“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast. 

Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur. 

“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.

“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below. 

“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”

“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.

“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.

“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.

“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table. 

“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.

“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.

“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face. 

“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled. 

“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.

“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.

“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him. 

“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off. 

The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead. 

You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow. 

Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile. 

Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.

“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.

You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.

The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.

The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered  the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.

“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.

One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.

Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.

You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up. 

“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe. 

“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”

“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.

Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants. 

“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.

“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.

“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls. 

“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.

“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly. 

You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple. 

“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.

“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt. 

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”

“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.

“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“I’m gettin’ there.” He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance. 

Jesus Christ he was big. 

He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock. 

“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick. 

“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours. 

“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks. 

“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again. 

“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock. 

“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered. 

“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips. 

He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off. 

“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips. 

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw. 

“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest. 

“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”

[foolish-gulasch]

caught the sweetest moment with miss grimshaw and charles 🩷

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

RDR2 fantasy AU art dump

Grimshaw and Reverend get to be small class griffins because i thought the swanson pun was cute and i love goose grimshaw <3 i dont ship it but they share a unique little friendship what with them both being griffins. Susan tries to help Rev. so he can spend more energy helping himself rather than spend it all preening and etc. she wont go soft on him tho, she will wing smack him if needed of bump her spur against his butt.

Hosea is a manticore, tho he came out looking like an odd goat, cat, fox, lizard, scorpion vibes. He stands the same shoulder height as dutch but his shorter neck hangs lower.

He lost one horn from being captured and nearly killed by hunters in his youth. It was yet another reason he struggled to enjoy blending in with humans, even if he was a wonderful trickster and could blend in with humans easily (and he did try and live a human life alongside Bessie). Even after everything, he still keeps a level-headed approach to when the gang has conflicts with humans.

MARSTONS,!!!!! Currently only have designs for Abigail and Jack. John is just a lanky ratty werewolf with bad posture and even worse paternal skills.

abi is a vampire, but in this au that just means giant vampire creatures that can disguise as humans. Abigail, because of her orphan-childhood, her being forced to disguise as human and make money through prostitution, is almost always in her human form. The art depicts her as a bat for the sake of design exploration. She turns into her bat form when extremely stressed (like when jack goes missing). She has a lot of complex feelings about her son being resistant to living his childhood disguised as a human. She thinks he’ll be safer if he’s mistaken as human and ignores, as opposed to being hunted for being a mythical creature.

jack is a mix of bat and werewolf. As he got older, he grew more and more detached from his creature identity because his parents lived as humans (from 1899-1907, even to rdr1 and onwards). So many body issues and self hatred for being stuck between a bat and a wolf; for being stuck between human and monster.

( i love jack so much god please someone give him a happy ending)

And then one drawing of arthur that will likely change when we have a better idea of deer-taur lore and designs.

AU is a project between me and @eggsaladsweetie

[jjeanggrey]

[crimelime279]

young susan grimshaw

[brothermoth]

Mommy Milkers Susan coming in hot

[idyllghost]

I’m stoned but you wanna know a headcanon I have that has the potential to hurt; Arthur slipping up and calling Miss Grimshaw mom.

Like I just know in my heart during his upbringing Arthur would accidentally call Miss Grimshaw mom. With every question, her demands for him to wash up, and general concern for him it would just slip from his lips. A simple “Okay mom.” And an immediate embarrassment as Miss Grimshaw smiled. And it comes so naturally to call her that, because despite his limited memories of Beatrice Morgan something about the way Miss Grimshaw’s warm hands would stroke his hair during fevers and stern voice reminded him of her. She reminded him of something so intrinsically tied to home. Regardless, he’d get embarrassed over his slip ups but, Miss Grimshaw’s heart would soften every time it happened because in the end, just like Dutch and Hosea, Arthur was her son. It was evident to anyone who watched them closely for a while that she held a soft spot for Arthur; honestly for both her boys and young Tilly. She raised that boy right along with Dutch and Hosea. That very fact is what made what Dutch called ‘Arthur watch’ so hard for her.

Everyone was vaguely aware of Eliza and Isaac. It wasn’t ever really a secret. Arthur, despite being scared shitless at the prospect of having a child and sporadic visits, it was evident Arthur was proud to have a son. Which is why when Arthur came back early from visiting Eliza and Isaac everyone’s stomach sank. His eyes were hidden behind the shadow of his hat as the sun began to retire for the day. Arthur didn’t have to speak a word that night for everyone to gather what had happened; that he’d lost them.

He’d hidden in his tent for days, barely eating and only crying faintly in the night when everyone else should have been asleep. Eyes red rimmed and glazed as tired hands clumsily made coffee in the mornings. He’d also gotten careless during jobs, getting injured more frequently and spacing. Miss Grimshaw herself suspected that was only the surface of what was going on in his head, after all he was always a quiet child so bottling up his emotions so tight they’d struggle to surface would only be second nature. It’s knowing this that made Dutch implement ‘Arthur Watch’. A way to, as Dutch put it, “make sure he’s safe”. A way that had the tension in the room spiking and Dutch’s voice shaking as he explained it.

 It had to have been midnight with the way the moon glared in her face when Hosea shook Miss Grimshaw awake to replace him in watching Arthur. She was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes when she approached his tent, barely comprehending the sounds that faintly escaped it. But once the last bit of sleep left her mind she was able to fully hear it; fully understand. It was soft cries, muffled in an attempt to conceal them, and her heart broke. Her movements halted and her breath hitched as her heart broke at the pain she heard. But, she steeled herself, lifted his tent flap, and entered. She let out a soft and raspy“Arthur?” And she inevitably heard rustling and a mumbled curse as he lit his lantern. With the light illuminating his face she saw every sharp curve and edge, the thin skin below his eyes almost bruised from restless nights. The red rim around his eyes combined with their puffed up state. His cheeks ruddy and damp. 

“Oh Arthur,” before she realized it she was sitting on his cot and patting his shoulder and he slumped into her touch. His body and mind tired. She pulled him closer to her, a way reminiscent in the way she’d pull him to her when he was barely 15 and waking up screaming from night terrors. With his heavy head on her shoulder she combed through his hair with her hand. “It’s okay son, you’ll be okay.” With those words the floodgates opened as he sobbed into her shoulder and all she could do was hold him through the pain. He only lifted his head up to gasp for air and croak out, “It hurts… Mom it hurts.” And her heart broke even more as she held him closer to her. 

[heavenlymorals]

Susan Grimshaw - A Small Deep dive Into A Complicated Woman

(Warning: This post contains mentions of period typical sexism and gender roles, as well as spoilers for RDR2)

Susan Grimshaw is one of the most interesting characters in the Van Der Linde gang and perhaps one of the most mischaracterized as well. She is either this beloved tough mother caricature or a deplorable hag more reminiscent of Cinderella's step mother than any true matriarch.

Today, though, I want to go into a little cultural deep dive regarding Miss Grimshaw. I want to explore the cultural significance of her character and how she's sadly a representation of the affects of misogyny and how it could affect a woman.

And for context, I come from a culture that still operates under many of the gender roles that 1899 America followed so all the stuff I'm gonna talk about are all things I've seen and/or experienced in my life time.

Grimshaw seems to me like a woman who is trying to compensate. What do I mean by this? Simple. What I mean is that in such a male dominated society that expected women to adhere to their standards, the fact that Susan Grimshaw wasn't able to is a source of insecurity for her, which then makes her lash out on the other girls of the camp.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, she heavily values male praise and authority. She is generally sweet and playful with Arthur, giving the vibe of that mother that we all seem to love so much, but with the girls, she's hell incarnate.

The second we get into Horseshoe Overlook, she talks to Arthur on how they got his tent ready and then tells Dutch and Hosea they would be ready shortly. The second we get into Horseshoe Overlook, she tells Tilly: "Miss Jackson, I've seen shit with more common sense than you, do it properly!". That one scene shows or gives an idea of how she is with the men vs how she is with the women.

She is awful to the girls. She reminds me a lot of mothers who are sweet and even servant-like to their sons and who view their daughters as competition, thus are harder and horrible to them (to my fellow Arab girlies, you know how it is. It sucks).

She never lets them rest and always gets on them for working the "wrong" way. That's pretty damn demoralizing. She berates them, calls them whores, and even physically assaults them. She even complains that she hates how Dutch won't allow her to whip them. And here's the thing, you can't even cite historical attitude with her behavior because even back then, abusive mistresses were criticised and seen in a bad light.

One of the most vile things she's ever done is try to pressure Abigail into prostitution again, even though she knows that Abigail is a mother and never wants to do that again, threatening her by telling her that she'd bring the matter up to Dutch even if Dutch himself never wanted her to do any of that.

But that behavior stems from her own insecurity of not hitting the milestones that women were expected to reach at that point.

She isn't married, nor was married, and a woman's identity of marriage was such a big thing back then that Grimshaw tries to cope with it by being decent with the men or accepting their flattery. She gets interested in Micah before he makes fun of her for being an older woman. She was willing to go out with Uncle before he asks her for money. She is fond of Dutch and still talks about when they were together sometimes and doesn't dare berate Molly because she's Dutch's girl. She even ignores the girls when they are doing something not work wise with the men- probably to please the man.

Tilly mentions this. "If I'm playing with you, she'll leave me alone."

But no one wants her and that then makes her lash out. She bullies Mary Beth on how she's too vain and that her beauty will go away, just like it "went away for her" and that what's left is awful. Like that such a sad mindset but in the time period she lived in, it makes sense. Women were usually married off by their early twenties due to their youth and vigor and beauty was perhaps the most important part of a woman because it's the only area where she is respected and that fucking sucks (note how many myth/historical women are praised almost only for their beauty). As women grew older, they'd become less desirable to the male dominant society, thus they would be shamed and humiliated. This even happens to Bonnie McFarlane in RDR1 in the newspapers when she's only in her late twenties, but because she isn't married, she gets shamed.

Grimshaw feels insecure about these aspects of her, of her looks, of her age, and that makes her lash out on the other women of the camp because they are young and beautiful. It makes her feel like she has a power that she lost by being a 50+ year old woman with nothing to her name.

So to compensate and to show her "value" as a woman, she works and works and works to dignify Dutch's camp because in that aspect of her life, she doesn't need to worry about her insecurities.

Yes. Grimshaw cares for the girls, and she'll scrap for all of them, but that doesn't mean she isn't a problematic and toxic person. It's sad that she feels like she needs to do all that for male approval in a male dominant society but good God, man. Again, she's literally that mother who feels threatened by her daughter and competes with her but treats her son like a prince, even if she still loves her daughter.

Yea, she helped save Tilly and pointed her gun at Micah in the end, but that doesn't mean she's just this "tough" mother figure. No. She's mean and toxic and awful and all of that is because of misogyny and how it feeds into her own insecurities as an older woman.

It's fucking sad.

[cowboys-tshot]

a tragic character in rdr2 that i feel is not talked about enough is Miss Grimshaw (spoilers ahead, obviously)

she was like the mother figure to several of the gang members (notably arthur and the girls)—she was strict and callous, but she cared about them so goddamn much. i love the mission where her and arthur go to rescue tilly because she just goes full mama bear mode, ready to go on a murdering spree to get her girl back. she's dangerously protective of the people she cares about.

the progressive downfall of the gang takes a toll on her. 'Prisoner for Life' makes me cry every time i hear it (for anyone who doesn't know, that's the song Grimshaw and Karen sing after Sean's death), because you can hear her voice cracking. you can hear the pain in her voice.

she loved that gang so fucking much. dutch did not deserve her. she held them together and he barely even bat an eye when she got shot. she trusted arthur, because she knew him and loved him and would protect him with her life. which is exactly what she did.

she deserved better. she deserved so much better.

[lovelybugsworld]

The gang as horses part 5!

I'm almost finished this series omg 😭

[stagcowboy99]

I was listing to Thus Always to Tyrants by The Oh Hellos and imaging rdr2 situations and then I realized something about who dies

Note: I haven’t finished the game yet because I’m trying to do a lot of side missions as Arthur but the first people who die at the beginning have people to go back to

Assuming there is an afterlife in rdr2 then Sean can see his da who he so desperately tried to tell stories about but getting shut down every time.

Kieran has his ma and pa who he lost so early on to cholera, maybe even the first gang he rode with

Hosea can be reunited with his dear Bessie, who he talks of only fondly in all of his memories and even feared he would “be going south” and never get to see her since she would be in heaven

Lenny who has his dad who wrote him a letter about how proud he was

And then those who don’t die have to watch as the members die. As they lose family members to either death, where their loyalties lie, or just plain paranoia and delusions. Some get their act together with drinking like Uncle and Reverend and some fall further off the saddle (pun intended) like Karen. They either die before being able to keep the gang sane or they live long enough to watch it fade and perish.

[hihomeghere]

RDR2 Text posts that are 100% true

[evercornelias]

there is something so hurtful about low honor jack marston being a creep towards women. yes he's low honor but I DON'T CARE. that is NOT the son abigail marston raised, and definitely not the one who was surrounded by positive female role models through his early life.