Blog about my Fanfiction for RDR2 (MASTERLIST)Also anything RDR2 related. As well as extra info on Reaver, my horse character, and his reactions to members of the Van Der Linde Gang
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In case anyone is interested in the music I listen to while writing my story, here it is! This Soundtrack is not in a specific order, so you donât have to worry about spoilers within the mood of the songs! Enjoy!
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CHAPTER VIII: Finding John
First of all I want to apologize to the people who I have had to make wait for so long for this chapter! I am so so so so sorry! I lost motivation for a while and I also had a bad case of writers block on top of it all! -low key begging for forgiveness- Anyway enjoy this next chapter!
The morning sun brought a blinding white light shining through the dusty and cracked windows. Arthur groaned and blindly searched for his hat, which was on the table next to him. He placed his worn hat over his face to try and get some more sleep when voices outside his door caught his attention.
âSo what are we gonna do now, Dutch?â Arthur recognized Hoseaâs tired voice.
âWe get strong, we get warm, we wait and when the storm breaks we move. But weâre safe here and warm enough not to freeze to death.â Dutch said, trying to reassure the older man.
âI guess.â Hosea didnât sound so sure and Dutch seemed to pick up on it.
âYou sound doubtful, Hosea.â
âIâm not doubtful, just worried.â
Arthur stood up and moved to lean against the door frame as he listened to the two men bicker at each other. They were both sitting in old, worn out, wooden chairs in front of the fire; trying to knock the chill out of the frigid morning air.
Dutch noticed Arthur and turned to address him âWhat do you think, Arthur?â
Arthur sighed not expecting to be called out by the leader âWell I wasnât on that boat so hard to say, but I trust your judgement, Dutch, always have.â
âThank you, son,â Dutch said, seemingly pleased with Arthurâs response before turning his attention back to Hosea. âWe have been shot at before Hosea I donât feel that this is honestly anything new.â
âI hope notâŚâ
âWe had a bit of bad luck, Hosea Iâll admit that. But then the storm covered our tracks, so now we wait a bit then we go back to Blackwater and we get our money, or we get some more money and we keep headinâ west.â
âBut weâre heading east!â Hosea argued back like Dutch didnât realize it himself.
âFor now, Hosea. For now. But we got this. Weâre safe!â Dutch paused as he stood up from the chair and laid his hand on Hoseaâs shoulder âStay strong, Hosea, and ArthurâŚâ The leader turned once again to face him âWell you know me, son, I am just gettinâ started, and once we get some money...well theyâd better send some good men after us, âcause they ainât never gonna find us...but in order to get out of here we need money.â
Arthur nodded without hesitation âOf course, Dutch.â
Dutch stepped forward and placed his hand on Arthurâs shoulder âThank you, son, for your strength. It means a lot to me...especially right now.â
âSure.â Arthur said, âOh, by the way, that kid from yesterday...thereâs somethinâ strange about her.â
Dutch paused on his way out the door âIâm assuming something stranger than what she told us last night?â Dutch was confused, what could possibly be more strange than having someone tell you they were from the future?
âShe knows about us Dutch. She knows weâre outlaws and I didnât say nothinâ to her about that.â Arthur said a little frantically âShe said sheâd tell us this morninâ but I..I jusâ donât know.â
âSo what do you suggest? That we just leave the poor girl up here to freeze? I raised you better than that, son.â Dutchâs tone was firm and condescending.
âNo I ainât sayinâ that at all I jusâ...I jusâ think we should keep an eye on her. At least tilâ we know for certain whatâs goinâ on. I mean ifâŚâ Arthur stepped closer to Dutch so only he could hear him âIf she is tellinâ the truth, and she really is from the future, then how the hell she even get here?â
âDid you ever think to ask her, Arthur? She might know about us, about who we are, but she is one girl. What could she possibly do to us?â Dutch had a point and Arthur knew it.
âI guess youâre right.â
âOf course Iâm right. Now come on, let's go talk to her.âÂ
The pair walked outside into the cold morning air âMs.Grimshaw!â Dutch called to the older woman of the camp.
âYes, Dutch?â She replied as she hurried overÂ
âThe young girl that we brought into our care, where is she?â Dutch asked as he looked around.Â
âMs.Heather?â
âYes.â
âShe is in that building with the rest of the girls. I think she is still asleep.â Ms.Grimshaw pointed to the old schoolhouse that sat across from the cabin that Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea were currently staying in.
âThank you, Ms.Grimshaw. Arthur, you go in there and get her, I am gonna check on the others.âÂ
âSure,â Arthur responded as he headed into the smaller building and directly into a hushed conversation.
âHe ainât been seen in days, the weather hasnât let upâŚâ Abigail said in a worried tone.
âHeâs strong, and heâs smart.â Tilly Jackson said, trying to bring comfort to the distraught woman.
âStrong at least,â Abigail said in a spiteful tone, one she used only when talking about John Marston.
Arthur made his way over to the small fire burning in the fireplace as he looked around for Heather. He saw her sleeping in the far corner of the room, alone.
âHello, Arthur,â Abigail said, trying to get his attention.
âAbigail,â Arthur responded shivering.
âArthur...how you doing?â
âJust fine Abigail...and you?â He could tell she wanted something from him.
âI need you toâŚâ
Arthur sighed and lightly rolled his eyes. He knew this was coming, whenever John got into any sort of trouble he was always the one to save him or clean up his messes.
âI-Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry to ask butâŚâ
âItâs little John...heâs got himself caught into a scrape again.â Arthur lightly brushed her off.
âHe ainât been seen in two...two days,â Abigail said frantically, trying her best not to become angry with Arthur.
âYour Johnâll be fine. I mean, he may be as dumb as rocks and dull as rusted iron ...but that ainât changinâ because...he got caught in some snowstorm!â
âAt least go take a look.â
Arthur turned around hearing Hoseaâs voice come from the door, it annoyed him a bit, but he wouldnât voice it.
âJavier.â
âYes?â An annoyed answer came from a Hispanic gentleman with a strong Mexican accent, sitting across from Arthur and Abigail.
âJavier, will you ride out with Arthur...to take a look for John? Youâre the two best-fit men weâve got right now.â
âNow?â Javier asked in almost disbelief, he had only just woken up himself.
âSheâsâŚâ Hosea turned to Abigail for a moment âWeâre all worried about him.â
Arthur looked over at Hosea in annoyance giving him an old fashioned âyouâve got to be kidding meâ look.
âI know.â Javier sighed out âIf the situation were reversed...heâd look for me.â He handed Arthur a sawed-off shotgun and headed out the door.Â
Arthur grumbled and took in the room with a sigh âAlright, fine, but when the kid wakes up, tell her to go find Dutch. Sheâs got some explaininâ to do.â He then turned around and followed Javier out into the snow.
*****Two Days Prior*****
This was the biggest mistake that John Marston would probably ever make. He was lost and caught in the storm with hardly any food, on the back of some random horse he stole on the way out of Blackwater. Dutch had sent him and Micha to scout ahead of everyone else, things were fine but they got separated when the storm blew through. So now here he was, on the side of some mountain somewhere, huddled by a pathetic campfire that was hardly anything more than a few burning coals, freezing to death.
He searched in his satchel for some food, but could only find provisions for the poor stolen horse. He took a bite out of one of the oatcakes and nearly choked on how dry it was. âHow can you stand to eat this stuff? Itâs horrible.â He grumbled to the horse who was totally ignoring him. âLook at me, talkinâ to a horse, maybe I really am as stupid as everyone says?â It was then that he realized the situation he was in, he was going to starve out here if he didnât find something to eat.
Arthur had tried to teach him how to hunt when he was younger but gave up pretty quickly when he obliterated a rabbit with a shotgun slug. He was around twelve at the time; hadnât ever really been hunting. Most of the food he ate was what he dug out of the trash in the towns, or stole from the General Store when no one was looking. But now it seemed he would learn, or he would die. That, and there was another problem, there was no fresh water around him, which meant no fish, which would be the easiest thing for him to catch out here.
He ate half of another Oatcake, giving the rest to his stolen horse when he heard howls in the distance, which meant only one thing, wolves. He kicked some snow over his measly fire and mounted his horse spurring her in the opposite direction of the howls. These were going to be the longest two days of John Marstonâs life.
**********
He was able to find a river, after about a day of travel. It was frigid cold, but clean and as clear as a crystal. He was able to catch a few fish with a makeshift spear made from a branch. âAt least I can fish, unlike Arthur,â John said to himself as he cooked the flaky meat over the fire. It was bigger this time so it actually kept him warm, and hopefully, it would keep any predators away from him. A sound and movement in the distance caught his eye. He couldnât exactly make out what it was, since it was dark and the only light was the burning fire, but it looked like the outline of a horse.
He quickly got to his feet, maybe someone in the gang had found him? âHello! Is anyone there?!â Silence answered him in return âYouâre goinâ crazy MarstonâŚâ The shadow came closer and his stolen horse spooked and reared. âEasy girl!â John shouted to try and calm his steed down. He looked back up to where he saw the shadow of the horse only for it to be gone. âYep...youâve officially lost your damn mind.â A howl rose in the distance, not too far from where he was now. A chill ran down his spine at the sound, the wolves had followed his scent and they were getting closer.
He quickly mounted his horse, not bothering to put out the fire. His horse spooked as he mounted the saddle and bolted across the river and up the side of the mountain. âWoah girl, easy!â More howls pierced the air, they were close this time, way too close. âCome on, faster!â John yelled as he spurred the mare in the side.
Snarls sounded at their backs, along with the sound of snapping jaws. John's horse squealed, bucked, and toppled over onto her side, throwing him into the snow. Pain tore through John as the wind was knocked from his lungs. As he struggled to get up he was knocked onto his back. Pain raked down the side of his face as a snarl ripped through the air and into his ear. John yelled and fought the wolf off with a struggle, when he looked over his horse was on the ground, its intestines spilled out into the snow. He clumsily got to his feet and stumbled away from the gruesome scene and up the side of the mountain.
He heard snorting behind him, thundering hooves in the snow. But that wasnât possible, his horse was dead. John spun around to see what was running up behind him. A large black stallion slammed into him, its eyes a pure moonstone white, its hooves a deep silver, and its teeth sharp as daggers. He fell back down into the snow as the beast stood over him, facing the direction he ran from. He was too afraid to move, afraid of being trampled under this horseâs hooves. He heard the howls in the distance. The wolves, he was gonna die, he just knew it, he could feel it in his gut.
The horse above him was calm, rigid, but calm, like a guardian. He saw the wolves now, running up the hill towards him at full speed. The stallion reared onto his hind hooves. He then charged the wolves at full speed, snapping at them almost like a dog. John didnât wait around to see what happened to the horse, he got up and continued sprinting up the side of the mountain, disappearing into the storm.
*****Present Day*****
âThis way. Last I know, John was headed up the river.â Javier said as he led Arthur north up the mountain.
âFor all we know...he kept riding north and never looked back,â Arthur said as he drove his stolen horse into the snowstorm. He was annoyed, annoyed that he was having to once again go and clean up one of John Marstonâs messes.
âHe wouldnât leave. Not like that.â
âWell, it wouldnât be the first time.â
The pair rode further up the mountain in silence, the wind, though it had calmed down considerably from the day before, was biting and tearing at their bodies and lungs.Â
âHey!â Javier called over the howling wind, âI see some smoke. Come on, letâs take a look!â
âSure, letâs just hope it ainât more of OâDriscollâs boys!â Arthur responded as he spurred his mount to go just a little faster through the snow.
âWellâŚâ Javier climbed down off his horse as they got to the smoldering campfire. â...Seems somebody leftâŚ.â he stuck his hand down close to the ashes and felt they were still warm. â...recentlyâŚ.and they went...that way!â A pair of hoof marks left the fireside and across the river, followed by what seemed to be several considerable-sized paw prints.Â
âSure, well, come on then!â With a slight sinking feeling in his gut as he followed Javier across the river. âSo, do you think itâs John?â
âYou tell me. Those are horse tracks for sure, but it could be anyone. Letâs see where they lead us.â
Arthur had a burning question. He wanted to know what happened back in that town back in Blackwater. âSoâŚ.you were there, Javier, what really happened on that boat?â
Javier was silent for a moment before he answered. âWe had the money, it seemed fine, then suddenly they were everywhereâŚ.â
âBounty hunters?â
âNo. Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets.â
Arthur had heard tell of the Pinkertons. The Pinkerton Detective Agency. If bounty hunters and sheriffs couldnât stop the gangs of outlaws, the Pinkertons were called in to take them down. It wasnât peaceful either. Everyone would be killed.
âDutch killed a girl in aâŚ.bad way. But it was a bad situation.â
âThat ainât like him, though,â Arthur exclaimed. Sure they were outlaws, criminals, but Dutch Van Der Linde never killed anyone in cold blood, never.Â
They came across a large ravine, and the horses whinnied and tossed their heads.
âEasy boy, itâs okay, youâre alright.â Arthur patted the horseâs neck, trying to soothe him.
âThe tracks lead around it, to the other side, see?â Javier said as he pointed in front of him. âI donât know why heâd come all the way out here, though, especially in this weather.â
âI saw some paw prints alongside the horse tracks a ways back,â Arthur said as he guided his horse alongside the ravine.
âDo you think they are wolves?â Javier asked, concerned.
âPossibly, I donât know of any coyotes living this far north,â Arthur replied.
âWe need to hurry then. He could be hurt. Heâs already been shot!â Javier called as he spurred his horse to go faster once it was safe to do so.
âHe got shot during that whole mess?!â
âYeah! So did Mac! We still havenât heard about what happened to Sean!â
âDamnâŚI knew John was hurt, just didnât know he got shot.â Arthurâs mind whirled at the new piece of information. Just because he and John had a falling out, didnât mean Arthur wanted the man dead.
âTo be honest with you, Arthur, Iâm surprised we escaped at all.â
âWhat you mean?â
âBy the time you and the boys showed up from the other side of town; we were only just holding onâŚâ
âDamn...that was some bad business alright. Iâm glad we made it out alive...for the most part anyways.â
The weather only got worse the farther up the mountain they went.
âDamn snow is cominâ in hard again!â Arthur yelled
âI know, we need to move fast!â
They reached a pass that seemed to cut the top of the mountain almost in half, the snow was much thicker here, untouched, which made it hard on their horses.
âCome on boy!â Arthur said, trying to encourage his horse. âThe horses are getting tired, Javier!â
âI know, there's a lot of fresh snow here!â
The tracks they were following only moments ago were completely covered by the freshly fallen snow.
âI donât know about this, Javier. W-We canât follow nothinâ!â
âLet's push on a little bit, we might be able to pick up the tracks again.â
The path curved up and around, cresting at a somewhat flat area that seemed to connect to the side of another mountain. Just down that path was something that neither of them wanted to see.
âArthur...do you see that?â Javier sounded concerned as he spurred his horse into a canter âJohn was riding that horse when we left Blackwater.â
âOh...thatsâŚâ Arthur didnât even want to finish his sentence. The horse was gutted, its entrails covered in snow and ice.
âHe couldnât have gotten too much further on foot, let's see if he can hear us.â Javier pulled out his revolver and shot up into the air, the crack of the shot echoing off the sides of the surrounding mountains.
**********
John was freezing, he had barely escaped those wolves with his life intact and he now found himself huddled on a cliff edge, alone. Or at least he thought he was alone. The sudden sound of crunching snow behind him told him otherwise. He carefully turned around to face whatever was behind him, his body screaming in protest with the effort it took. There, in the cleft of the overhanging rock stood the massive stallion from earlier. It pierced him with its coal black eyes and John felt a chill go down his back. What was this beast?
His thought was cut short when he heard the distinct sound of a gunshot ring out through the howling wind. He did the first thing his mind told him to; he yelled. âHEY! OVER HERE!â He continued to yell until he heard two voices he immediately recognized.Â
âMarston, you hear me? Marston!â Arthur.
âJohn! Where are you? Can you hear us!â Javier.
âIâm over here! On this ledge!â John called back to them. âOver here!â John yelled as he saw Javier come into view, only to watch him stop dead in his tracks.
**********
âAlright. Pipe down, Marston.â Arthur grumbled as he ran straight into Javier with a grunt. âWhatâchu stop for?â He asked; catching the smaller man before he could fall over.
âArthurâŚ.what is that?â Javier said as he pointed over behind John, in the cleft of the rock face, and straight at the large black stallion.
âHoly shit...howâd you get up here?â Arthur mumbled as he stepped around Javier.
âWait, you recognize this horse?â John called over his shoulder at Arthur.
âYeah. I know him. He belongs to the kid.â Arthur grumbled as he stroked the horseâs muzzle.
âKid?â John questioned âWhat kid?â
âDonât worry âbout it, Marston. All you need to worry about is gettinâ the hell offa this mountain.â Arthur snapped in rebuttal.
âLooks like we can go back down that way.â Javier said as he pointed to what appeared to be another path down.
âAlright then. Câmon.â Arthur gently grabbed Reaverâs makeshift bridle and tugged him forward; clicking his tongue to get the beast to follow him. âHere.â Arthur grumbled as he reached Javier âHold him still, and for the love oâ God donât spook him.â
Javier reluctantly held onto the bridle, keeping the stallion still as Arthur bent down and grabbed John, pulling him up and away from the cliff edge.
âDonât die jusâ yet cowboy.â Arthur grunted as he put John on Reaverâs back.
Reaver startled and snorted, lightly rearing onto his hind legs. âWoah! Easy!â John yelled and gripped onto the rope that was used in place of reins with as much strength as he could muster up. âWhereâd you say you found this horse?âÂ
âIn a barn back where the rest of us are holed up.â Arthur murmured as he soothed the stallion, grabbing the bridle and tugging him forward along the path down the mountain.
âHas he even been broken?â Javier asked as he walked alongside them.
âNo, I donât think so. He donât like beinâ spurred'. Bastard tried to throw me when I used âem.â Arthur replied.
âHe donât like wolves neither. Ran straight at them!â John exclaimed.
Arthur laughed âY-haha! You mean to tell me a horse had to save your sorry hide from wolves?â
âI know it sounds crazy but itâs true!â John argued
âSure! I believe you, Marston. I believe you jusâ about as much as I believed that ferry job in Blackwater was gonna work.â Arthur growled out, âI told Dutch not to send you out on the scoutinâ job once we got up in the mountains, told him you werenât the right man for it.â
âYeah...guess you were right on that one.â John grunted in pain.
ââCourse I was right! Jusâ look at you! You was almost wolf food! Best be glad that Abigail was worried âbout you, cause I wasnât.â
âIf you hate me so much just say it Arthur.â John murmured
âAlright, Marston.â Arthur quipped as he spun around to face John âI-â
âWeâve got a problemâŚâ Javier said and pointed up to a cliff. Three wolves were staring them down, some already looked pretty mangled up, ears torn and bleeding, or favoring one leg more than the others.
âAw shit....you two get on outta here. Iâll deal with the rest of Johnâs friends.â Arthur handed the reins over to Javier as he pulled his sawed-off from his holster, pulling the hammers back. âCome and get me, you bastards.â Arthur growled as the wolves charged down the hill.
Arthur aimed at the first wolf and pulled the trigger. A spattering of blood sprinkled the pure white snow as the wolf went down. The others hesitated for a moment, hackles raised, lips pulled back in a menacing snarl.Â
âWell?! Câmon then! I ainât got all day!â Arthur snarled through his teeth at the beasts.
Two more wolves lunged at him, one straight on, the other lunging at his arm. BANG! The shotgun went off again as a second wolf hit the snow in a pool of fresh steaming blood. A cry ripped from Arthur as the other wolf latched onto his arm âGet the hell offa me!â He yelled as he hit the wolf in the head with the muzzle of the gun. The wolf let go and fell into the snow with a yelp. Arthur quickly reloaded the gun and shot the beast, only stopping to catch his breath after he made sure it stayed down like the others.
âArthur, are you alright?!â Javier calledÂ
âIâm fine! Just got bit, Iâll live!â Arthur called back as he made his way over to Javier and John. âLets get outta here and get John back to the others.âÂ
âSounds good to me.â Javier exclaimed as he whistled for his and Arthurâs stolen horse before mounting up and looking over his shoulder. âYou okay back there John?â
âI-I donât feel so goodâŚâ John answered
âItâs just a dog bite, youâll be fine.â Arthur grumbled as he mounted his stolen horse.
âKnew a fella who got bit by a dog, he died two days later.â John said.
âYeah well, that ainât gonna happen to you. We wouldnât get lucky enough.â Arthur mumbled the last bit to himself as he tied Reaverâs makeshift reins to the back of his horseâs saddle. âCâmon lets get a move on, weâre losinâ daylight and Iâd prefer not to be stuck out here all night.â
âYou and me both.â Agreed John.
âShut up Marston.â Arthur ground out as he spurred his stolen horse forward and back towards Colter.
#OutlawLegends#ReaverBeingAGoodBoi#arthur morgan#john marston#javier escuella#abigail roberts#hosea matthews#Dutch Van Der Linde#chapter 8#MyGodThisChapterIsLong#SorryForTheWait
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anonymously tell me what my specialty as a fanfiction writer is
Do I even have one? Am I even a write with how little I seem the write lately?
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You will never ever annoy me if you
Send me random anons
reply to my posts
send me an ask
reblog me
talk to me
say hello
give me random love
âbotherâ me
So please stop thinking otherwise.
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RDR2 Ask Game
I didnât see any RDR related ask games so I made my own.
Send in an ask and Iâll answer the question/respond.
(Thereâs a sad lack of cowboy related emojis so some might not make perfect sense)
đĽď¸Describe Your Online Character (or an OC)
đWho out of the gang out you Fuck?
đWho out of the gang out you Marry?
â ď¸Who out of the gang out you Kill?
đFuck, Marry, Kill - with choices (Provide three people)
đŠDo you play thicc boi or skinny boi? (Arthur or John)
đ°Favorite Mission
đ¸Least Favorite Mission
đ¤ Favorite Cowboy
đ§Favorite Cowgirl
đLeast Favorite Cowboy
đLeast Favorite Cowgirl
đŤPreferred Weapon (Possible Image reply)
đŠPreferred Outfit (Possible Image reply)
đ´Preferred Horse (Possible Image reply)
đ§How do you have/prefer our protagonistâs hair/beard?
â¤ď¸Red Dead OTP
đRed Dead NoTP
đ Red Dead BroTP
đ§¸Whatâs one animal you wish could be a pet in Red Dead?
đľFavorite Red Dead song (either sang by camp or other)
đşď¸Favourite Location in Red Dead
đFavorite Act in the Saint Denis Show
đFavorite Journal Entry
đĽ Favorite Stranger
đˇA photo youâve taken
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writer wip asksâ¨
â¤ď¸: whatâs the working title? đ§Ą: what were previous working titles/ideas? đ: what is the title based on? đ: how long have you been working on it? đ: how has the idea changed between starting it and where it is now? đ: where are you in the writing process? đ¤: what are your MC names? đ: give a brief character bio of your 3-5 MCs âŁď¸: which scene has been hardest to write so far? đ: what has your favorite scene been? đ: which future scene are you looking forward to writing? đ: is it part of a series or standalone? đ: what genre is it in? đ: are you planning on publishing it? if so, how? đ: give us a huge spoiler đ: who has your favorite character arch? give a brief summary đ: how is your style different in this work compared to previous ones? has it more shifted for the story or just developed in general?
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âYou ainât gonna tie anything upâ
I finally add a background :)
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I love him. Low honor tends to be a lot sassier, but I think he can say this in high honor as well.
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yah u might be depressed but are u dutch crying alone in his tent at 3 am during ch6 depressed
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assorted arthur fishing voice lines đŁ
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Alright guys, Iâm currently working on the next chapter of Outlaw Legends. Iâve gotten past the most difficult part! Itâll be out soon I promise!
PSA: WRITERS BLOCK SUCKS!
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This oneâs for the writers who get ignored.
This oneâs for the writers who get a maximum of two notes, both of them reblogs by you.
This oneâs for the writers who feel like giving up. (Donât.)
This oneâs for the writers who didnât get any messages on the 21st. (or any other time)
This oneâs for the writers who donât get tagged.
This oneâs for the writers who donât get recommended.Â
This oneâs for the writers who have the courage to keep going even when you get little to no feedback.
This oneâs for the writers who donât get curious anons.
This oneâs for the writers who write amazing things and get hate because of it.
This oneâs for the writers who are learning English as a second language.
This oneâs for you.
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A random thing I just thought of in the bath but...
I REALLY love the idea of an alternate ending for Karen where she ends up owning her own saloon and is the baddest bitch of a saloon owner/landlady.
Takes ZERO shit, throws grown men out with her bare arms, big fancy dress and hat.
The ladies from the gang sometimes come and visit and she's sweet as pie to them, let's them stay for free in her best rooms.
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Iâd be glad to answer these!
RDR2 Ask Game
I didnât see any RDR related ask games so I made my own.
Send in an ask and Iâll answer the question/respond.
(Thereâs a sad lack of cowboy related emojis so some might not make perfect sense)
đĽď¸Describe Your Online Character (or an OC)
đWho out of the gang out you Fuck?
đWho out of the gang out you Marry?
â ď¸Who out of the gang out you Kill?
đFuck, Marry, Kill - with choices (Provide three people)
đŠDo you play thicc boi or skinny boi? (Arthur or John)
đ°Favorite Mission
đ¸Least Favorite Mission
đ¤ Favorite Cowboy
đ§Favorite Cowgirl
đLeast Favorite Cowboy
đLeast Favorite Cowgirl
đŤPreferred Weapon (Possible Image reply)
đŠPreferred Outfit (Possible Image reply)
đ´Preferred Horse (Possible Image reply)
đ§How do you have/prefer our protagonistâs hair/beard?
â¤ď¸Red Dead OTP
đRed Dead NoTP
đ Red Dead BroTP
đ§¸Whatâs one animal you wish could be a pet in Red Dead?
đľFavorite Red Dead song (either sang by camp or other)
đşď¸Favourite Location in Red Dead
đFavorite Act in the Saint Denis Show
đFavorite Journal Entry
đĽ Favorite Stranger
đˇA photo youâve taken
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