#red dead redemption 2 tickle

[ticklish-daydreams]

☆ // REMADE INTRODUCTION POST >>

hellooo !! i’m gonna try to keep this short, as all of my other introduction posts have been ridiculously long DECHFHFAF

my name is aenz, and this is a SFW tickle blog, mainly focused on my & others writing, but i do reblog a lot of tickle art also <3 as stated in my bio, i go by he/him pronouns, my fanfic requests are open, i am a MINOR, however, NSFW accounts can interact by liking (because when you like something, you don’t usually immediately check that person’s profile LMAO), just please do not follow or reblog any of my posts !!

that’s basically all there is to say about me, just don’t be weird abt my content, and don’t be an asshole, then we should be fine ;; fandom list below! masterpost to be added <3

// ♢ fandoms

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

He guns down innocent people, insults his friends, kills animals senselessly, spares nobody and steals from the helpless.

But he spends 5 hours catching and releasing fish.

[forsty]

I like spending my time in rdr2 following John around and taking pictures of him

[carnellousthecat]

I think a huge part of the failure of Starfield, besides the fact of its lack of design documents (And Pagliarulo in general as outlined by PatricianTV on Youtube) is the complete and utter failure of aesthetic. The Elder Scrolls has very clear aesthetics unique to every culture, and fallout has a very prominent casette futurism and retro sci fi aesthetic, but I think in an effort to avoid comparisons to fallout they completely scraped all the aesthetic personality out of the game.

Like think about it. They say "nasapunk" but what does that mean? And it can't just be the fact that they're still using no.2 pencils. The ships, though they have subtle elements of outdated nasa technology, look absolutely nothing like anything NASA would have made. It's so bad that people don't even realize it's going for an aesthetic at all beyond Red Dead Redemption and Cyberpunk 2077.

They just like, have absolutely none of the recognizable nasa iconography. They have no rovers or unmanned craft, they have no separating pieces of a ship in space. I know it would have limited the ship building but the least you could do is attach the ship to a vertical rocket a la space shuttle. They could have a separating bit of the ship you can use to land like the moon lander, and it wouldn't be hard to implement, just make every cockpit double as a moon lander.

And the suits. The outfits. Good god they are all awful. Like I get that adding "punk" to the aesthetic means it becomes more stylized but it shouldn't be so much so that it's unrecognizable as the "nasa" part of that term.

I know this might tickle some feathers, but in past content Destiny 2 did an incredible job with that aesthetic already. In the now removed location "Titan" there used to be a "golden age" research base that kind of looks like a space oil rig, and EVERYTHING from that location just screams nasa, from the armor you can get there to the design of the habs, how buildings are connected by airlocks with that cool crinkly foil looking stuff on them, it's amazing. Even Bungie was able to beat Starfield at its own game when they tried ONCE like five years ago or something

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Bounty of Sneezes

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 Summary: Slightly pre-events of Red Dead Redemption 2, Arthur is heading out on a bounty job and seems to be coming down with a cold. Luckily he has some help. CW: period typical gun violence, some mess, cold sneezes Word Count: 2,391 words MINORS DNI Author Note: i had an ask a long time ago i am so sorry for something rdr2 related and i hope this will do and i hope i did the cowboys justice bc i had to just keep picking at it. also i make no apologies for subjecting you all to my equine bullshit.

The change in seasons from summer to fall had always been challenging for Arthur, both as a young man and as an older one. Bounty hunting wasn’t exactly easy work either, but it was good pay, which the gang needed right now. Money. A lot of it. So, Arthur would do what he always did. Provide. Pull his weight. Because that’s what he was to them. A workhorse. 

While everyone else was sitting comfortably down near Pike’s Basin, Arthur had chased a bounty up in Tall Trees. The chill of the air got worse as he followed the lower Montana River further up North. The bite of the air was starting to make his nose run. 

Although, come to think of it… his nose had already been running when he left camp this morning. He sniffled again, just as he’d been doing all last night while trying to pick his way through Pearson’s threadbare stew. Gathering up the edge of his coat sleeve, Arthur swiped at his nose tiredly. 

He knew he was about due for his annual cold, and it hitting now that he was away from the rest of the gang was probably for the best. Lest the rest of them get sick because of him and blame him for going around camp with everyone in such close quarters. A subtle itch had started somewhere in the back of his left nostril, and Arthur grunted as he shifted in the saddle, sniffling to try and disrupt it. 

The sniffling didn’t seem to be doing him any good, so he briefly stood, readjusting in the saddle before sitting a little deeper and pulling his thick, blue coat closer. He’d woken up cold this morning, too. No surprise there. Arthur naturally ran hot, but when he was sick? He froze over. Squeezing his hands into fists on the reins and then stretching them out again, Arthur tried to ignore the growing itch that was building in his sinuses now. 

It was starting to make his nose run worse, and he cleared his throat a little, wincing at the sharp and grating pain that tore through his throat from the action. He swallowed, wincing when that hurt, too. This time, he brought a hand off the reins to scrub a little more roughly at his nose with a finger, causing a soft sort of squelching noise that made him grimace. Still, it did nothing to alleviate the itch, and his other hand began to brace on the horn of his saddle in preparation for what was to come, his heels pressing down a little more just in case his horse spooked.

The poor creature beneath him was new. Still learning. Arthur was still learning her, too. He didn’t know if he could trust her not to spook at his sneezes. The sound of another set of hooves coming up behind him at a fast-paced trot briefly caught his attention, but Arthur was quickly becoming all too consumed with the coldish tickle niggling at his nose. 

“God daahh… ax’TSHHiuh! Snff! Huh…” Arthur pitched forward in the saddle, bending at the waist, careful not to jerk back on the reins as he pressed them flat to the crest of his mare’s neck. Said mare nickered anxiously, tail lashing up and down at the sudden sound of the sneeze while starting to sidestep off the road. “Easy, girl. Woah. You’re alright… Just a sneeze.”

“Some sneeze.” And if that wasn’t the most irritating voice in all creation, Arthur Morgan didn’t want to hear today of all days. “I’d say you nearly fell out yer damn saddle, Arthur.” Because, of course, John Marston had to have followed him up here on Old Boy. 

The elder outlaw gave a gruff sort of huff and sniffled once again, able to feel the congestion in his nose threatening to leak. “If anyone’s going flying out of their damn saddle, it’s you, Marston.” He snapped back, his mood only soured more by a blanket of exhaustion that was settling on him. “Thought I left you back at camp.”

By now, John and Old Boy were matching pace with Arthur and his mare, riding beside him on the road. “You did. Dutch sent me out here after you. Said we could use some brotherly bonding time.” He sounded just as bitter about it as Arthur felt. The two hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms lately, given John’s disappearance that Arthur had taken somewhat personally, not just as a hit to Abagail, Jack, and the gang. There were plenty of complicated feelings Arthur had brewing for the outlaw he once treated like a younger brother.

“Dutch should know better. I do this kind of work alone.” Arthur growled, but it only served to irritate his throat further, making him turn from John to cough roughly into a gloved fist. He could feel John’s eyes on him as the coughing tapered off, and he patted his mare’s neck, sliding a hand under her mane to keep it warm. Then he turned his eyes back to the road and surrounding trees, pretending to ignore John.

For a few brief moments, there was just the sound of hoofbeats on the dirt road before Marston spoke up. “Because you’re just so damn capable…” He muttered, and the words were distinctly bitter now, instantly stoking that ember of anger in Arthur.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” The blonde snarled back before he had to dissolve into another fit of coughing, this time leaning against his saddle horn for support. His mare danced off to the side skittishly, and Arthur rubbed her neck as the fit died off, leaving him feeling distinctly more tired after each one. 

By the time Arthur could look over at John, the younger outlaw was leaning to reach back into his left saddle bag. “That.” His voice was that same rasp it always had been since the brunette hit puberty. “You’re sick. Same damn time as last year. You think I don’t remember? You always get sick around this time of year, Arthur. We’ve practically been brothers for how long now?”

A scoff left Arthur, and he took one end of his reins to smack Marston’s leg with it for his meddling. “I ain’t sick, Marston. Just ride along back to camp and tell Dutch I sent you h-home.” The itch was back but in the opposite side of his sinuses now, making itself known much faster than the last tickle. So much so Arthur barely had time to grab the saddle horn and make sure he kept his reins low as his whole body jerked with the sudden sneeze. “Eh’TSHXuh! EXXtsh! Woah! Easy, girl!” 

Quick as a flash, Arthur was going from sneezing to soothing his nearly spooked mare while driving his heels toward the dirt like his life depended on it. The horse below him had taken off at an anxious lope as if trying to escape the sudden explosions from her rider. “Ahh, easy- woah, come on now, girl. Nothin’ to be scared of.” John on Old Boy kept pace just behind them as Arthur eased his horse back to a walk.

“So… you ain’t sick?” John checked as he pulled up beside Arthur again with a smug smirk.

Arthur grimaced and rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Why’s it matter? I’ve worked jobs sick before.” Once again, his wrist came up to rub at his nose with a thicker sniffle now, every rub causing a wet squelch. If he wasn’t careful, he would be more congested than when he’d had a cold over Christmas. 

When Arthur looked over, he spotted a bottle in Marston’s hands that looked like a tonic of some sort. “Because usually there’s a whole posse behind you, right?” It was like John was trying to direct him in a particular train of thinking, and Arthur was just too damn sick and tired for it.

It did earn a semi-congested snort of amusement from Arthur, who hastily had to press his wrist back to his nose and sniffle. “Contrary to what you might believe, Marston, I ain’t like you. I pull my weight. I run jobs by myself all the damn time.”

“Shuddup, ain’t like that-” John defended instantly.

Arthur fixed him with a stern glare but did down the tonic before continuing. “You wasn’t even in camp for a damn year!” The thought did occur to Arthur that talking this loud while tracking a bounty this close maybe wasn’t such a good idea. “You came back for two or three big jobs. Couldn’t e-ehh…” His voice trailed off as his breath hitched that itch coming back.

Suddenly, though, John slowed down his stallion while reaching for Arthur’s reins. “Arthur, not now-” For some reason, John’s voice seemed to have gotten quiet.

Tears of irritation formed in Arthur’s eyes as the itch prickled and brushed through the most sensitive parts of his nose. The ticklish sensation was strong enough to make his mouth fall open as he hitched, “Hehh-! Eh-!” 

“Arthur-!” John’s voice was an urgent hiss now as Arthur’s mare began to prance beneath him. Something was wrong, very wrong, but he couldn’t-

“EXT’shhiew! HiT’SHiew!” There was the sudden chaos of six shots ringing out, and Arthur gasped as he choked up on the reins as his horse reared before well and genuinely bolting. Old Boy did just the same as the bounty they’d been searching for came guns blazing from the brush. 

Element of surprise gone, Arthur threw a leg over his horse’s back and dismounted before she could run too far. He stumbled a little on the landing but drew his revolver before ducking behind a tree. “Come out, Treva! Wanted poster said dead or alive! Don’t care how we get the money!” 

Another three shots hit the tree he was hiding behind, and Arthur looked around for Marston, wondering if they could get this fool to run out of lead and reload. He spotted the younger outlaw moving in closer and shook his head, waving a little before motioning to call out.

“What’s the matter, Treva? Too chicken shit to come find us? We’re on our way to finding you!” John called; not exactly wrong either. He’d been well on his way to getting close. 

One shot whizzed by Arthur’s hiding place on the left, then on the right. Just barely clipping the edges of the tree and sending shrapnel of bark flying in every direction. Treva could aim, but could he reload fast enough once he’d shot that last round? Arthur took off his hat and stuck it on the end of his revolver, nodding to John just before peeking it out from behind his tree. 

Crack. With a hole in Arthur’s hat, John made his move and launched from his own hiding place. Arthur stuffed his hat back on, sniffling back the mess threatening to run down his lip, and went to follow. By the time Arthur made it to John, Treva was out cold, and Marston was preparing to tie him up. 

“You got ‘em, Marston?” Arthur crackled out, sniffling and rubbing his gloved hand against his bright red nose. It already felt like that tonic was wearing off.

John pulled the binds tight and nodded. “All set. Just gotta get him to town.” He stood and hauled their bounty over his shoulder, both men whistling for their horses. “You should get a room in the town when we drop him with some of the money. I’m sure Dutch won’t mind…”

Arthur glared at the younger gang member as he caught his horse by the reins, soothing her gently. “Bullshit. We oughta drop him and get back.” He said gruffly, putting a foot in the stirrup to haul himself back into the saddle. Now that the action was over, his nose was still running, and Arthur could still feel that prickling tickle teasing at the back of his sinuses. “Hhh…”

They rode silently for a while, Arthur still struggling against that incessant sensation in his nose. It was like an entire feather pillow had been stuffed in his nose, tickling and blustering about as if in a dust storm. He squeezed his saddle horn and pressed his heels down, “Heh-eh! EXt’Shhuh! Hhh… hih-! Hh! HDt’SHH! Christ alive!” 

Thankfully, given his outbursts this time, his mare seemed to only toss her head in displeasure. He patted her neck and sniffled thickly, exhaustion weighing heavily on him as he followed her motions without conscious thought. Riding was second nature in this business. He could do it while sleeping, let alone while sick as a dog, and if Arthur spent enough time with one of his mounts, they became quite the pair working in sync with one another. 

“Bless you,” John mumbled under his breath, and Arthur grunted a quiet “Thanks” in reply. It continued on in much a similar fashion until they reached town. Their bounty was delivered without complaint, though Arthur found himself on the receiving end of more than a few curious sets of eyes watching him. Townsfolk were always suspicious of strangers riding in. 

It was not uncommon, but now he suspected it was because of how poorly he was beginning to feel and look. He stayed mounted in his saddle while John handled everything inside. It felt like he wouldn’t get back up once he dismounted. He was too exhausted from it all. He just wanted to make camp, maybe have a fire, fall asleep, anything to rest and warm his bones. 

A shiver ran through him, and Arthur huddled further into his coat, rubbing his raw, chapped nose against the wool lining with a gurgling sniff. 

“That don’t sound too good.” 

John had appeared at his side, offering him his cut from their bounty job, which he took and stuffed directly into his satchel with a nod. “You’re tellin’ me.” He rasps back and winces. “We should go.”

“No. You should rest. Abagail will kill me if she finds out I let you ride back like this.” Without any more warning, Arthur suddenly felt himself being dragged from the saddle. He protested halfheartedly, stumbling as he tried to find his footing once on the ground. “We’re gettin’ a room. C’mon.”

And without another word, the two outlaws set off for the closest hotel. 

[zooophagous]

What's your favorite story? Can be a book, movie, game, whatever tickles your fancy! 😄

My favorite book is Dracula. I've read it a good four times which with my attention span is unheard of. I still feel the suspense every time I read it even though I know what happens.

My favorite movie is The Last Unicorn. I'm aware it's also a book, but it isn't my favorite book. The film is elevated by its visuals. The art style is impeccable and so are all the voice actor performances. It's pretty faithful to the book as well. (My second favorite film actually is a Dracula adaptation, Nosferatu, the 80s version with Klaus Kinski; so you can see there is some overlap in this category of favorites lol)

I don't actually play a lot of video games but I do like the plot of Red Dead 2. The whole game is a big question of "if the hero dies at the end anyway, does it matter that he left his old ways and tried to be good if the outcome is the same (yes it does matter)" It's also a love letter to the best parts of America (its diversity, the wide spectrum of culture, natural beauty and wildlife) while at the same time being a stark condemnation of its multitude of sins. Mostly I love a good redemption arc.

[yorshie]

Blue Shadows

Red Dead Redemption 2

Arthur Morgan x GN Reader

Summary/Warning: SFW, poetry, or waxing poetically about Arthur, pretty much. Reader is drunk, gets a kiss from Arthur (just adding some older works to Tumblr)

There’s something unspoken that lives in the twilight of a new night, when all the world’s blue and grey, soft around the edges. Details are smothered, smoothed, the full moon paints everything it touches in a stark, unforgiving light as it chases away the last warm, round tone of orange from the sunset.

There was something there, some poetry that lurked and daintily padded at the edge of night, but for some reason the words wouldn’t come. You watched them slip slowly out the imagined plane of your mind’s eye, felt them drip down steadily to the beat of your own blood as it flowed through your veins, your thoughts fuzzy and incoherent as they tumbled down in a hopeless chase.

“You still with me, genius?”

The poetry was gone, shattered, shaken from your mind with all the grace of a slap to the face as Arthur’s voice cut through your daydreaming. Your head lolled on his shoulder as he turned his head to inspect the damage, and you could only blink blearily up at him, those words of poetry now a jumbled heap of a mess on the floor of your mind thanks to his growling, bristly, barely leased rage of a snarl.

You don’t answer, can’t, caught in a circle as your mental self tries unsuccessfully to stop the barrage of words that somehow transformed from melancholy and nostalgic versus about the twilight of the world to a homage to the face peering sullenly back at you, eyes full of worry, frustration pulling at his skin, the stern line of his mouth dipping as he twisted further to catch your own muddled gaze.

Arthur was made to be an outlaw, the thought came unbidden. Shaped, moulded, downright hammered into the outline of a man that had become a deadly force to be reckoned with. There was a disconnect, between the image of Arthur as you came to know him around camp and in quiet trips, and the stranger that inhabited the space underneath his skin, who roared out in fiery fumes at the first sign of provocation. That Arthur, Dutch’s Right Hand, was sorely at odds with the grumpy man you were plastered to, even if the slight edge to his voice was a shadow of what lies beneath.

However, that Arthur was hidden, and the one you leaned against now was quite tame by comparison, malleable even with his surly, grumpy temper.

“You keep your eyes open, if you know what’s good for you.” The shoulder you were splayed against rolled, rippled, and you followed the twitch of muscle as it worked its way to his spine and felt it plainly through your own chest as he moved, turned back to the trail that cut a vivid line through the prairie in the moonlight.

The slow gait of the horse was lilting, gentle, each shift of the spine under you rocking you both back and forth in a sway, and you hummed, unthinking, caught in that trail of thought as you relaxed further against him. You sagged, swayed further, and suddenly Arthur was cursing as he tried to catch you.

He managed it, barely, your limbs limp and unhelping as he grabbed your waist and hauled you through the air. You had a brief, confused revelation that somehow your head was in his armpit and that sideways, the landscape looked even more alien, before he was shouldering you, pushing and rearranging until your chin found the curve of his shoulder and your nose tickled the sunburnt skin of his neck.

He tensed, curled his ear down, and you felt the shiver that racked him.

“Jesus, you feel like ice.”

It was hissed above you, and he shifted, and in turn you sagged, and somewhere in your mind you distantly realized he had pulled you into his lap to avoid losing you, and you were now straddled across him, the saddle horn digging painfully into your back.

This… was not quite as poetic as riding behind him, you surmised, your eyebrows lowering into a muddled arc as the realization came to you. The sullen thought was quickly banished with Arthur’s deep inhale, and his chest rose and fell underneath your own, your ribs touching briefly in the exchange.

You continued on, thoughts spiraling with every inhale and press of limb on limb, certain that you had died and gone to heaven, until his drawl brought you back, and belatedly you realized you must have missed something.

“You really scared me, you know.”

It was softer, not the cutting whip of before, and you frowned, unable to connect the dots, almost letting the train of thought flutter away for the more favorable pastime of silently running your fingers across the planes of his lower back.

“Should know better ’n followin someone outside a saloon, ‘pecially drunk as you are.”

Oh, well that was stupid.  Did you do that? You frowned again, clenched and unclenched your fingers, felt the pucker of your lips brush the skin at the crook of Arthur’s neck, and almost missed what he said next in stupefied silence as your brain rebooted at the sensation.

“Though, next time you take a swing at me, I’m liable to swing back.”

Well…. that…. that was stupid. That definitely didn’t sound like something you would do at all, Arthur was built like a brick shit house, surely there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make you think you could-

“Though, the apology kiss weren’t so bad.”

Oh god, and he sounded positively gleeful as though he knew your face was turning redder than a ripe tomato. You’d never survive if he found out about the crush you’d been harboring for literal years. There was no way, please god in heaven don’t let it be true. Your hands tightened in the back of his shirt, balled into fists, fair ripped the material at his next words.

“Might even be up for it ‘gain, if you can keep from pukin on me anymore.”

Jesus H Christ, and your eyes fluttered open, staring up at the moon like a lovesick calf. You probably would have kept looking, drove yourself moon blind, if a rough grip of leather hadn’t fastened itself to the back of your head and pulled, trying to dislodge you from your comfy position.

You fought the grip, dug in to the muscle of his back and locked down your arms, but this was Arthur Morgan, and he easily pried you away, blue eyes fair laughing down at your expression as though he could see your embarrassment even through the strange light of the moon.

“Nothing? Ain’t gonna talk purty like before?” You strangled the abrupt noise of disbelief that rose in your throat, saw the smile at the edge of his mouth when you failed to control the muscles of your face, and lord above, you almost begged him for mercy.

In a way, he gave it to you, though it took you several long heartbeats to realize it was his lips you were tasting, chapped but firm as he licked into your open mouth. The noise you made was not poetic at all, not fit for something as grand as kissing Arthur Morgan, but he ate it anyway, took it within his mouth and stored it underneath his tongue while he hunted for more.

When he finally let you breath again, slightly shaking you with the arm he had at some point wrapped fully around your waist to make sure you were, in fact, still breathing, you gasped out loud, stared up at him like a fish landed out of water.

“You ok, princess?”

It would have been mocking another time, another place, but here, straddled face to face on the back of his horse in this strange world bathed by the moon, it meant something different. You felt it wind into your heart, settle in the space under your sternum, and you nodded, a grin striking you from ear to ear.

Hands rose, curled around his face, and you kissed him again, tasting the blue shadows of the moon on his lips, finding your poetry after all.

[androgynousangeldreamland]

15 questions for 15 friends:

Thank you @missamyrisa2 for the tag :3

1. Were you named after anyone?: Yeahh, if I remember well, I was named after my grandmother on my mother's side.

2. When was the last time you cried?: Last night, while watching La La Land for the first time😔

3. Do you have kids?: Nope, and never thinking of having any ever☝️ I can barely handle myself so I don't wanna imagine myself dealing with kids too😭

4. What sports do you play/have you played?: Pretty much all of them I think. I've done swimming, tennis, soccer, dance, badminton and the list goes on. But I gave up all of them eventually lmaoo.

5. Do you use sarcasm?: Guilty as charged, I can't stop using sarcasm sometimes, it's too much fun.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?: Honestly the first thing I try to notice about people when I first meet them is wether they like me or not, how they text and such.

7. What's your eye color?: A mix of green and grey, sometimes a tad of yellow in there if the light hits my eye, I don't even know exactly😭

8. Scary movies or happy endings?: Ooohhh hard choice, on one hand I love when things end up well in movies, on the other, I'm a sucker for when things end up horribly in horror movies. It's a tie I'm afraid 😔

9. Any talents?: I can make the best breakfast sandwich ever, hit me up guys, I'll make one just for you🙏 Oh I also have a knack for drawing, not much anymore but I still got it I think :3

10. Where were you born?: In good ol' Canada, won't specify further.

11. What are your hobbies?: Mostly playing video games and drawing. (If any of you speak to me about red dead redemption 1 or 2 I'll love you forever, the rdr brainrot is real🙏🙏🙏🙏)

12. Do you have any pets?: Had one last year, a beautiful (big) tabby cat, though he passed away 2 years ago, rest in peace big guy😔👊

13. How tall are you?: 5'10", 11 ish

14. Favorite subject in school?: Not even gonna lie, it was either art or P.E. I loved both equally. (I only liked art cuz my crush was in the same class as I was/hj)

15. Dream job?: Working in a car shop w my lil brother, working on it actually, gonna start my car bodywork semester soon enough :3

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!

@calicole22 @zeetickles @avg-tummy-enjoyer @an0nymz @anticklee2 @serial-tickler @cutelittleswitch @dirtbagswitch @echo1321 @fluftickles @fine-feathered-tickles @foot-tickling-fetish @gigglyloser @hypersensitiv3 @lawoftickleswitches

[xolliwritez]

Beware. I'm on the prowl to make Red Dead Redemption 2 tickles.

[mapplestrudel]

There's been some new folks following my little blog here, so I wanted to say:

Hiiiii!!!!!

I'm Mappsie ^_^

You'll find mostly reblogs here, about ... *gestures vaguely* all kinds of stuff. There's no one theme. Only fluctuations of interests xD Recurring, though, are video games (e.g. Red Dead Redemption, Mass Effect, Skyrim, Assassin's Creed, Dragon Age), my game screenshots, fandom stuff, craftsy stuff, parenting stuff, artsy stuff, long posts, shit posts, puns... whatever tickles my fancy.

I have 2 sideblogs: @mappsiemakesthings as archive to my craftsy endeavours, which atm entail crochet, spinning and needlebinding - i do want to get more into knitting, so we'll see about that.

@mappsiedoodles is an archvie of my doodles.

I also have an AO3 account under the same username, if you're interested in Paz Viszla x Reader fluff.

I love getting tagged in stuff, so feel free to do so ^_^

And, uh, yeah, that's it!

Hi! Glad you're here <3

[jjack-ass]

Dutch is definitely ticklish, that man will absolutely break if you touch his sides and I BET that Hosea uses this to his advantage during long speeches

[embersatdusk]

Sleepy Javier Escuella, Red Dead Redemption 2.

And he would be sleepy 😉

***Bonus Footies***

Anyone got a feather? 😁

[goinghometotheshire]

Let my mom pick out some new clothes for Arthur and now he looks like a 90's country star going to the CMA's

[shuttershocky]

Sometimes I think about Red Dead Redemption 2's development where the devs were begging people to not boycott the game to protest the news about their absurd working conditions because their bonuses were dependent on copies sold. I remember one of them made a statement around the lines of "We worked ourselves to the bone on this and we want to at least see people experience the fruits of that labor", which makes me think about how we talk about blockbuster games developed under crunch.

I was given a copy of RDR2 to review it, and I couldn't help but think about how I kept seeing so much that was technically impressive and yet just not necessary. Did some poor guy really work overtime for weeks just so Arthur's horse had realistically shrinking testicles in cold water?

I honestly did not know how to properly articulate my thoughts on this at the time. I still don't. Red Dead Redemption 2 was polished - I couldn't deny that - but it didn't have to be that polished. I could have connected every bit as strongly to Arthur if every horse in the game had no realistically shrinking horse balls, or even no balls at all. I would much rather have never had it and known the hardworking people who made the game enjoyed their lives more.

Still, I was impressed by the technical proficiency on display. Do I acknowledge that when I talk about RDR2?

I haven't read any of the reviews for Cyberpunk yet (I want to form my own thoughts and I promised to play through it for a trans friend worried about whether or not she would have a good experience with the game) but I'm betting there's going to be plenty of praise from people rating specific features as very good. Of course they're very good; too many people have spent too much time on those features for it to not at least be good. The question is if it even needed to be that good. Could we just have not had this very good part in exchange for the developers living better lives?

The answer should be yes, but all people will really see is "this part was good" and sing its praises and demand more of it. Upper management watches these reactions and concludes that their methods are working splendidly. The company executives laugh all the way to the bank, tickling themselves with the dollars stuffing their pockets as more talented developers vow to never work in the industry again.

It sucks.

[mlmxreader]

Dear Boy | Arthur Morgan x M!reader x Josiah Trelawny (🍋)

request: Do you still write for Red dead Redemption 2? If yes could you write something about having a threesome with Josiah and Arthur? (If you don't, that's fine too!) ps: Male Reader please - anonymous

summary: you, Arthur and Trelawny are left alone at camp for the day, and with very little trouble to get into, what's the harm in making your own?

warnings: praise kink, threesomes, oral, anal, anal fingering, swearing, smoking

word count: N/A, worked on mobile 🤷🏻‍♂️

author's note: @x-reader-theater helped me write this and I just.... ily, my dude, thank you so much for helping me out💚

"Josiah!" You shouted, grinning from ear to ear as you approached. "Josiah!"

He whirled around, lighting up a cigarette as he smiled at you, tilting his head. "Yes, dear boy?"

You fumbled with your satchel when you got to him, only daring to stop once your fingers graced what you were looking for, pulling out a daffodil with great care as to prevent damage to the bright yellow petals. "Look what I found!"

Josiah smiled, paying more attention to your beaming smile than the flower; he had never met a man like you, so handsome and so charming you quite literally knocked him from his feet.

"It's wonderful," he said eventually, feeling as if there was something slightly caught in his throat.

"Here," you pressed the stem into his hand tightly. "I want you to have it as, like... I dunno, a lucky charm."

You are my lucky charm, he thought.

"Josiah," Arthur nodded as he wandered over. "(y/n)."

"Hey, Arthur," you said kindly, stepping aside so that he could join you. "I thought you'd gone hunting with Dutch and the rest of the gang."

"Nah," he shook his head. "I figured I'd stay here with you two - make sure you don't get into no trouble."

Josiah scoffed, raising a brow. "And what trouble could we possibly get into, dear boy?"

Arthur shrugged. "All kinds'a trouble, Trelawny - you're as slippery as an eel and as for you, (y/n)... never known a man who could get into trouble for pickin' flowers."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, maybe I just need a bit of punishment's all."

"A bit of punishment?" Josiah mused, looking you up and down, that feeling of something caught in his throat growing, making him lick his lips.

"Well, uh," Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "I, I guess me and Trelawny could give it a go."

"Oh, absolutely," Josiah nodded in agreement. "If you'd like us to, that is."

You bit your lip, the thought of both of them punishing you making your face feel hot as blood ran south and your fingers trembled. "I'd... I'd love that."

Josiah took the first move, gesturing for you and Arthur to follow behind; you wound up at his tent, and you could feel yourself getting excited - boiling in your stomach so much that your trousers became tight and tented.

Josiah let his hands go to your hips, pulling you in close as he looked at your lips. "I'd like to kiss you."

You couldn't even answer, meeting him halfway; it was hot and heavy, open mouthed and desperate, and when Arthur came up behind you, peppering your neck with little kisses, you couldn't help but to squirm, bringing one hand up to Josiah's cheek, the other going to the back of his neck as you moaned into his mouth.

"Fuck..." Arthur groaned, his hands going to the back of your shirt, pulling it down a little so he could pepper a few more kisses onto your skin.

His beard was tickling your skin, making you whimper and silently beg for more - but when Josiah pulled away, his lips plump and swollen, you frowned.

Until Arthur turned your head to the side, his index finger and thumb on your chin as he kissed you gently, but still just as desperate and needy; Josiah bit at his lip for a second, swallowing thickly before he dared to press kisses to your shoulder, holding your shirt down so that he could get at the skin.

You were burning with the heat of a thousand suns - but you would happily burn for eternity like that.

"Arthur, sit over there," Josiah commanded, pointing to his bed. "Where would you like to be, dear boy?"

"I, uh, I don't mind," you admitted softly. Sometimes you liked to be the one giving, other times you liked to be the one recieving - you liked it all the same. "I'm a man of many talents - fucking is... it's all the same to me, regardless of position."

Josiah smiled, looking at Arthur for a second. "Would you like me to take you in my mouth while Arthur fucks you, dear boy?"

You nodded, biting your lip - but when Arthur leaned over a little, smacking your ass, you yelped. "Yes."

"Good boy," Arthur praised quietly.

"Good boy, indeed," Josiah licked his lips, able to feel his own blood rushing south and resulting in the tightening and tenting of his trousers. "Strip."

You did as he said, unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall to the floor before removing everything else - but when you went to take off your hat, Josiah shook his head.

"What do you think, Arthur?"

"I think leavin' the hat on sounds good," Arthur confirmed with a nod.

You tried not to smile as you bit the inside of your lip, leaving your hat on.

Arthur reached out to you, pulling you onto his lap, his cock pressing into you through his jeans as he gestured for Josiah to come closer; with a villainous smile, Arthur kept one hand between your hip and thigh, biting his lip as he reached down, his hand gracing your bare ass.

Josiah sat beside him, and gently coaxed you to turn around slightly, just enough that he could capture your lips once more; he was sweet this time, his kiss coated in the honey of desperation. He slipped his tongue, and you moaned softly, giving Arthur the chance to slip his oiled up fingers into your ass.

Fuck, his fingers were thick. You couldn't help the shuddering moan that left you, moaning into Josiah's mouth. He kissed you with a bit more roughness, then, letting Arthur's fingers open you up for what was about to come.

"Fuck me," Arthur growled, his voice hoarse and hot against you. "You're so fucking tight, (y/n)."

Josiah pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as he smirked, his eyes shaded by the brim of your hat - it was tilted back slightly, and he looked even more charming in the shade. "You're being so good, dear boy."

"I think he's good to go, Trelawny," Arthur's voice was nothing short of animalistic as he pulled his fingers out and cleared his throat.

Standing on weak legs, Josiah pulled you to his side, kissing your temple as he murmured sweet praises in your ear.

After he got undressed, you watched Arthur get himself oiled up, his cock shining in the afternoon sunlight that dared to poke through the gaps in the closed tent.

He passed you the bottle, and you knew what to do instinctively, it was pretty obvious you had done this before a fair few times, shaking your ass a little bit as you got yourself slicked up.

"Do you still want to do this, dear boy?" Josiah asked softly, taking your hand. "We won't act awful if you don't. It's okay to change your mind."

You shook your head, biting your lip that little bit harder. "I still want to do this."

"Easy does it," Arthur said gently when you got to him, his hands gripping your hips so that he could guide you down, groaning softly at how tight you were. When he bottomed out, he leaned forward, his words hot against your ear. "You doing good?"

You nodded, rolling your hips as you groaned softly. "I didn't think you'd be so fucking big, Morgan."

He was blushing, his eyes meeting Josiah's as he dared to chuckle softly. But then he cleared his throat and asked, "this ain't too much, is it?"

"No," you told him. "This ain't too much."

To your surprise, Josiah dropped to his knees before you, clearing his throat. "Would this be too much?"

"Shit, Josiah," you chuckled breathlessly, trying not to let your moans overtake your words when Arthur slowly, with torturing thrusts, started to fuck you. "I can't count the times I've- I've thought about having your lips around my cock."

Slowly, Josiah wrapped his pretty lips around your cock, only daring to focus on your head as he toyed with you - it seemed as if your punishment was having to be toyed and tortured.

Arthur gave you a harsh trust, chuckling softly when you begged for him to go faster, harder.

"Oh, no," he clicked his tongue. "You said you needed to be punished, right?"

You growled, shaking your head. "I know, but... this ain't fucking fair - please, fuck me already."

Arthur looked at Josiah, who was purposefully avoiding playing with your balls as he pulled back - the tip of your cock coated in his spit.

"He has been rather good," Josiah admitted. "Perhaps we could give him the luxury."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Fucking please."

"Alright," Arthur agreed, starting to move a little faster, a little harder, but careful not to fuck you too hard. "You're doing real well, (y/n)."

Josiah went back to your cock, taking you in until be could feel himself gag, bobbing his head as you reached out with a shaky hand and laced your fingers in his hair; you were gripping tightly, a loud growl coming from the back of your throat when he brought one hand up and started to play with your balls.

Your hat was starting to slip, but Arthur caught it and fixed it while he continued to thrust up into your ass; it was a little painful, but you didn't mind - it was the pleasurable kind of pain. You could feel his breath on your burning skin, making you whimper his name as you ground your ass against him.

Josiah was relentless with your cock, sucking you off just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to make.you go over it - but fuck, the way he played with your balls made you want nothing more than to cum all over his pretty face.

"You're not gonna cum til we say so," Arthur told you, his hand daring to move around to your throat, squeezing gently.

"Fuck me," you whispered. "And what if I cum before?"

"We're gonna make you cum til you don't stop," Arthur said quietly, nibbling at the side of your ear a little. He was good at this.

The thought of that alone made you creep closer towards the edge; the way Arthur had been fucking you was hitting your sweet spot a fair few times more than what you had expected. Between that, and Josiah's magical mouth, you weren't sure how you were stopping yourself from cumming.

You thought that that sweet, sweet torture would last for eternity; purgatory spent teetering on the edge of the cliff. You could feel the hunger for it in the pit of your stomach, making you growl their names harshly as you begged for them to let you cum; begging for mercy that you had a sneaking suspicion would never actually relieve you from that sweet torture.

But then Arthur's movements started to get erratic - his thrusts growing sloppy and harsh as he tried not to let himself go, but he knew the end was near, and he kissed your neck before softly growling.

"You can cum, after me."

You nodded, trying to match his offbeat rhythm as he continued to fuck you ass, your grip on Josiah's hair tightening to the point where anyone else would have worried you were going to rip it; when Arthur finally came in your ass, you let the floodgates open, your cum filling Josiah's mouth as he eagerly swallowed.

Fuck, he looked beautiful swallowing your cum. A little bit dribbled onto his chin. You swallowed thickly.

"My, my," he chuckled as he pulled away, wiping that dribble of you from his chin with his handkerchief. "You did so well, dear boy."

Arthur was finished, completely spent; he let you get off of him, but he paused.

"Maybe, uh, maybe we should go clean up in the river," he suggested. "The gang ain't gonna be back for at least another hour - and the river's only a minute away."

Keeping you against his side, Josiah stole a look at you before turning to Arthur and nodding. "That sounds like a splendid idea!"

[sunbleeds]

*          𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒅𝒚  𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒍𝒚   !     i’m  kelsi   (   she&her  pronouns  pls  )  ,     i’ve  been  writing  n  rping  on  this  hellsite  for  a  good  7+  yrs  now  ,     mostly  in  groups  n  as  much  as  i  luv  it  +  them  i  just  don’t  have  time  to  maintain  consistent  activity  n  keep  up  w  20+  ppl  on  a  dash  hence  why  i’m  here   !   looking  for  a  long  term  1x1  partner   .

i'll  write  male  or  female  muses  tho  9/10  times  i  stick  to  males  n  i’m  always  willing  to  write  against  male   /   female   /   nonbinary   /   trans  muses  regardless   of   who   i’m  playing   .      as  far  as  content  goes  nothing  is  rlly  off  the  table  as  far  as  i’m  concerned   :      fluff   /   angst   /   smut   /   romance   /   gore   ,      i’m   a   heaux  for  it  all   .      ofc   me   being  an  adult     (  25  )      i’m  only  willing  to  write  w  those  who  are  18+   .      now  as  i  briefly  mentioned  before      𝖨  𝖠𝖬  𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖣𝖨𝖡𝖫𝖸  𝖡𝖴𝖲𝖸    .      i  work  10  hours  a  day  n  most  weeks  i  work  50  hrs  not  just  40  on  top  of  which  i  have  a  partner  n  other  dumb  adulting  things  to  balance  so  there  are  lots  of  times  when  i  can  only  find  the  energy  to  post  a  time  or  two  every  other  week      tldr   ;      patience  is  a  virtue   ,      i  can’t  always  find  time  to  be  online  but  that  doesn’t  mean  i’ll  ghost  you  either   .      i   adore  talking  n  plotting  nonsense  on  discord  or  thru  ims   ,      the  only  time  you’ll  find  radio  silence  on  my  end  is  when  i’m  working  or  Insanely  busy  which  i’d  do  my  vvv  best  to  give  u  a  heads  up   .

while  i’m  more  than  willing  to  come  up  w  ocs  of  our  own  due  to  my  own  personal  time  constraints  canons  are  easier  on  me  atm  so  i’ve  included  a  list  of  fandoms   &   muses  i’d  like  to  play  (   bearing  in  mind  that  i’m  willing  to  play  them  in  various  settings  and  verses  against  ocs  &  canons  from  other  fandoms   )  below  the  cut  as  well  as  some  previous  rp  blogs  so  y’all  can  get  a  feel  for  my  writing  n  if  any  of  those  tickle  ur  fancy  n  ya  think  our  writing  styles  could  mesh  well  pls  smash  that     ‘   ♡   ’      n  i’ll  pop  into  ur  dms  to  kick  this  off  :’)

ATTACK  ON  TITAN

erwin  smith  mayhaps  even  ideally  against  a  levi  /winkwonk

AVATAR   :   THE  LAST  AIRBENDER

azula

jet

CASTLEVANIA

trevor  belmont

DRAGON  AGE

garrett  hawke

LIFE  IS  STRANGE

nathan  prescott

finn  mcnamara  or  sean  diaz   (   i’m  rlly  interested  in  writing  these  2  against  each  other  so   !!!!   pls  🙏  !!!!!!  ya  girl  is  not  above  begging   )

NBC’S  HANNIBAL

hannibal  lecter

RED  DEAD  REDEMPTION  2

arthur  morgan

SHADOWHUNTERS

magnus  bane

THE  VAMPIRE  DIARIES

katherine  pierce

klaus  mikaelson  circa  s3  when  he  was  actually  a  badass  villain

THE  WOLF  AMONG  US

bigby  wolf