Grace

RDR2 OC Account. Semi-Selective, 10+ years experience 

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

Hey guys! This blog is being archived! It will still be here and I will check in occasionally. If you are interested, I have a new blog for Jaycee and my RDR2 OC! You can follow here - @lostinthewildwest

I've enjoyed my time on this blog but its only going to get b

[amourmemes]

❥     𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   .

inspired  by  devotedecay’s  non - sexual  acts  of  dominance  meme  ! send  in  one  of  these  for  my  muse’s  reaction  to  … (  add  ❝  reverse  ❞   if  you’d  like  to  see  how  my  muse  would  preform  the  action  !  )

[ shower ]   your muse joining mine in the shower.

[ choke ]   your muse choking mine.

[ kiss + soft ]   your muse pulling mine into a tender kiss.

[ kiss + rough ]   your muse pulling mine into a rough kiss.

[ pin ]   your muse pinning mine down.

[ wrists ]   your muse roughly grabbing mine by the wrists.

[ push ]   your muse pushing mine into bed.

[ rip + clothing ]   your muse tearing a piece of clothing off my muse.

[ spank ]   your muse spanking mine.

[ pull ]   your muse pulling my muses hair.

[ talk ]   your muse talking dirty to mine.

[ eyes ]   your muse making mine look them in the eyes during.

[ down ]   your muse pulling mine down by their collar / clothes.

[ knees ]   your muse telling mine to get on their knees.

[ hips ]   your muse pulling mine in close by the hips.

[ denial ]   your muse putting mine through orgasm denial.

[ many ]   your muse making mine orgasm over and over.

[ tied ]   your muse tying my muse down.

[ lazy ]   your muse lazily beginning to touch mine.

[ love ]   your muse telling mine they love them during.

[ dominance ]   your muse taking the lead and dominating mine.

[ submission ]   your muse letting mine take the lead and submitting to them.

[ humiliation ]   your muse humiliating mine, re: name-calling and verbal abuse.

[ pain ]   your muse hurting mine in bed, whether intentionally or not.

[ knife ]   your muse using a knife in bed, whether for threat or actually cutting mine.

[ hidden ]   your muse having sex with mine somewhere semi-public.

[ public ]   your muse having sex with mine in public, whee other people watch.

[ adore ]   your muse being near reverent with mine in bed.

[ dress ]   your muse having mine dress up in lingerie.

[ eat ]   your muse eating mine out.

[ sleep ]   your muse touching / beginning to have sex with mine while they’re asleep.

[ gag ]   your muse gagging mine, or or making them be quiet.

[ blindfold ]   your muse blindfolding mine.

[ praise ]   your muse praising mine in bed.

[ good ]   your muse calling mine a good boy / girl.

[ want ]   your muse telling mine they want them.

[ snarl ]   your muse growling and / or baring their teeth at mine during sex.

[ mark ]   your muse purposefully marking mine up with bruises, hickies, ect.

[ wall ]   your muse shoving mine up against a wall.

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

how long were you planning this? ( Milton // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

TW - Death

Grace had never planned on returning to Saint Denis but death had a strange way of disrupting plans. Her father, after taking ill months ago, had written and asked her to return to claim the estate. Her mother was long since dead and her father had only hours left after she returned. Upon her return, the news of Augustes rapidly declining health had drawn the attention of her estranged husband, Andrew Milton. They'd been married for a little over a year when Grace had up and run away. The marriage had been strained at best and filled with the most heartbreaking lessons Grace had ever learned. They'd never legally divorced, though Grace wasn't sure why, and Andrew was the one who must sign for the estate. The only issue Grace saw was that she'd guarded a secret for the last ten years. Their daughter. She'd given birth to a raven-haired little girl six months after moving away. Andrew had just met her for the first time. It was the evening after her fathers funeral and Grace had asked Andrew to accompany her and their daughter home. Besides, it was his home now, Auguste had signed it over to him. Their daughter was already in bed, drinks poured, and the fire lit. She had answers to the questions he had been asking himself since she left. The least she could do was be honest with him. His first question had not been what she'd expected. 'Why' had been the first one she thought would be asked but with a second thought, he knew why. They loved each other but they could not love each other like they needed. "A month or so," Grace admitted. "I imagined you were angry that I had left and shamed you that way but I would have only shamed you if I stayed. One had to be better than the other."

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

“Anyone catch your eye tonight?” ( Sean // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

Grace sat on the ground, her back pressed against the log Sean was sitting on. Slow acoustic music, accompanied by Javiers voice, floated through the cool early summer air. They'd had a party, Grace could not remember what it was for but it had been one hell of a night. Things were coming to a close, though. Men were settling down in their tents or bedrolls, the women sitting quietly, playing a calm card game, and Grace was plenty intoxicated. She'd drank the night that Sean had returned to camp. He'd claimed that she was half Irish and should have been half in the bottle already. Tonight was the first time she was drinking since then It wasn't for lack of opportunity, though. Grace wanted to get to know everyone better before getting drunk around them. Sean and Grace had just entered a comfortable relationship that edged the line of friends and siblings. Her head lulled back to rest on the log as she looked up at Sean. Her green eyes shone in the light of the campfire. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She smiled at him and then picked her head back up. Yes, someone had caught her eye. Javier, who sat across the campfire from them, had zeroed her in. He played and sang so beautifully. Music was a language all humans spoke no matter their native tongue. "If I told you, the whole camp would know by morning, I am not risking the embarrassment." @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

❛  remember me once in a while — please promise me you'll try.  ❜ ( Sean // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

TW: Death, grief, blood, alcohol, food.

The sound of slow hoofbeats caught the ear of Grace. While it would have been a relief any other time, this felt different. Dread settled on her heart with no hint of an explanation. She noticed others had gotten the same feeling and began to wander out of their tents and stray from their tasks. There could only be one thing that made them all feel the same thing; death.

Who, she wondered, had been on the receiving end of a bullet or blade? What voice would she no longer hear early in the mornings and what sets of clothing would she never wash blood from again?

Still, the camp remained silent as Bill and Micah came into view. She couldn't remember a time the camp had been so quiet. Even in the middle of the night, there was quiet talking or music from Javiers guitar but this...this was excessively silent.

The body laid over the hind end of Bills horse, she could see how the arms and legs hung limp, and Bills sullen face. She had started to consider that the body wasnt dead but in dire need of medical assistance but the look on Bills face alone told her otherwise.

The body that once bound a dearly beloved man to this earth came into view. Graces world fell silent, deafened by her own heartbeat rapidly pounding in her ears. This couldn't be. It was always a risk when living this life but this? No.

Ginger hair that matched hers covered in blood, green eyes dull, lifeless, and a tongue that had spoken with her mothers accent would never sound.

Sean, her best friend, and her brother was dead.

She registered the feeling of a hand on her shoulder but she could not turn to see who it was or take in the comfort it offered. She watched on in horror as he was moved. Her stomach turned in knots, threatening to spill the deer meat she'd eaten only an hour ago.

Then all hell broke loose. People asking a million questions, snapping to anger and thoughts of revenge, or breaking down in loud sobs around her. She caught wind of a few details but could not retain them or focus.

All she could do was stare at Sean.

____

Hours, countless drinks to numb the pain, and a few short conversations passed. The energy in the camp was long gone, dead and buried with Sean just outside of camp with a wooden cross marking its presence.

The camp remained silent, most simmering in a blinding rage, others drowning in their tears alone in tents or bedrolls.

Sitting on the dock of the lake soothed a drunk Grace very little. There was emptiness and silence beside her where usually Sean would have sat and talked her ear off. She found that she missed his rambunctious personality already.

"Remember me once in a while — please promise me you'll try."

She heard his voice as though he was sitting beside her, clear as day. He was there, he had to be, even if it wasnt physically. Or was her drunken mind coping with the fact that she'd never see him, hear him, or feel his rough hands again?

Graces jaw clenched as the weight of her grief settled in her chest. The first tears slipped out despite how hard she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them away. The lump in her throat grew and she felt like she couldn't breathe past it. Grace could swear she felt Seans hand rest atop the one she had gripping the edge of the dock. It was a desperate attempt to keep herself in check but it did not help. How could it when grief was all consuming and never-ending? The person she wanted was not here with her, no matter what she felt or heard. Regardless, she choked out a whisper of an answer to the disembodied voice. "I promise."

@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins

[tboy-cock]

was talking to my gf about my fear of dying young for being trans and my mom putting my deadname on my gravestone, and she said "i hope that never happens, but if it does, i will carve your name into your grave myself if i have to." and i think theres something extremely raw about that sentiment and trans community in general. you can kill only our bodies, but you cant kill transsexuality

[figgldygrak]

APPOINT SOMEONE ELSE AS YOUR NEXT OF KIN

If you are over 18 and do not want your parents to have control over your body after you die or if you go into a coma or something, take that power away from them. They are your automatic next of kin unless you get married which is why they have control over those things. But getting married isn’t the only way to change that, an advanced directive can do the same. This video has more information

[scarfacemarston]

I love her so much. She’s an amazing person. I always reblog her work.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( A.gent M.ilton ; continued )

        𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. The Milton family had maids and their own cook, usually because of his father’s busy lifestyle, but his sister never seemed to care about that. She would cook and bake to her heart’s content as if she forgot about their hired help, and one way Andrew and his sister bonded was through this. She would make them a meal, and have the maid bring it up to Andrew’s room, before joining him a few moments later. Under the rim of his glass, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his previous annoyance was washed out.

        He began to wonder if Grace would like a maid or a cook in their home, but he figured he would need to ask her father first before making that arrangement. It only felt right of him to abide by her father’s wishes.

        ❝ Do you have hired help? ❞ Andrew asked, putting his drink to the side as he peered into the kitchen. He saw the shadows cut across the kitchen wall in the doorway. ❝ Not that I mind you cooking, of course. ❞ Perhaps this could give him an easy answer on whether or not he should make arrangements in advance for their home. 

        Andrew personally had a maid in his home, to tidy up when he was away, but he preferred to dine around Saint Denis. He enjoyed being at home, but he enjoyed being out in Saint Denis more. Saint Denis was his home, it didn’t stop at his apartment. Because he was gone for so long, there tended to be a new restaurant or a new dinner party he was invited to on his return to the city.

        Andrew looked up and wrapped a hand around his drink when he saw her enter the room once again. He stood up, his bones creaking and whining in protest. ❝ The table, if you’d like. It’s only custom. ❞ Tradition, custom, that’s commonly what Andrew stuck to, besides some small indulgences here and there.

@grace-pricilla-taylor

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

For as long as Grace could remember, Neve and Auguste Taylor had hired help for things around the house, even as far as a caretaker for Grace when they had business out of town. Yet she had never seen them working past sundown, and there were holidays that Grace could remember sitting around the formal dining table with them to celebrate. Her parents had always treated them as people and never 'hired help' because they, too, were immigrants who had been treated as lesser when Auguste was not fluent in English. Green eyes shifted from the plate she was preparing to the direction his voice was coming from, breaking from the concentration she held over his food and the perfection she wanted to present to him. "My family has hired help, yes," Grace said. "They only work until Sundown. My parents are very...progressive." The information was likely news to him, something most Americans had not thought of yet. "My mother cooks supper, my father cooks anything we need after that time. Cecelia handles breakfast and lunch, Anna was my caretaker and educator until I was sixteen, but she still comes to visit every so often." Of course, there were more but, Grace only needed to name those in the house frequently. Once she had received an answer to her question, Grace took the plate, full of food, to the formal dining room. She set the plate down, making sure the utensils were placed correctly before she headed to pour them both a drink and serve it to him at the table. "I don't cook often, I do hope it meets your expectations." Her eyes scanned the room once he was seated. She had not spent much time in this room simply because this was where her father hosted his meetings. "Tell me of your family?" She asked him when she took a seat across the table from him.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

jaycee-ray asked : Snuggle - Sean and Grace 👀

send me   ‘ snuggle ‘  for our muses to cuddle up together on a cold night. / @grace-pricilla-taylor -- accepting

        𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲, a wind chill billowed through camp as they moved to a new location closer to the mountains. Sean could oversee the snow blanketing the mountains, building up over the week as they settled in this new place. With the chill and the ladies working as hard as they could to mend the holes in their blankets came a need for warmth, It was the only way they could survive here. Or at least, Sean figured this is why he found Grace nestled in his bed and how he came to enjoy the warmth it brought him. 

        His throat was hoarse and Sean looked for the remedy of a bottle, but he didn’t want to break away from the warmth. He figured a moment of discomfort triumphed over the sudden chill that would run across his body once he left the bed. 

        ❝ Are you comfortable? ❞ he asked, his throat straining under the dryness in his throat. He shifted and cleared his throat, his arms still wrapped around Grace’s middle. ❝ Do you need me to move? Or- ❞  

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

Moving closer to the mountains had brought a chill to the bones of every person in the camp. Grace was no exception, especially not with how small she was and how little clothing she owned. Huddling by the fire while she tried her best to mend blankets was not keeping her warm and Pierson's stew was hardly keeping any weight on her. The poor girl had been shivering for the last ten hours and her body needed a break. That's how she found herself crawling into bed next to Sean. With her face pressed into his shoulder and her body as close to his as she could manage, she finally felt her muscles relax. If anyone found them, neither of them would ever hear the end of it but right now, Grace could not bring herself to care. "Yes," She replied. She sighed as he shifted and wrapped his arms around her. Grace shook her head just a little, pulling just a little closer to the warmth of his skin.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( Agent Milton ; open starter -- moved to beta editor )

                ❝ Choose your last words wisely. ❞ The revolver is cold in his hand, the end pressed against the chest of his opponent. His breath leaves his mouth in slow, shallow breaths, his voice breathy in tone. ❝ You could’ve been so much more, but– look at where it got you. Complete degeneracy. ❞

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

Grace stared up at him, her eyes not full of fear but instead, full of acceptance. “I can hand you Dutch and more.” Grace didn’t flinch at his gun pressed against her chest. “I can still be more, Agent. I did not choose this life.” Grace told him, keeping her hands raised where he could clearly see them. “I want to cut a deal.”

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

“am i meant to take solace in that?” ( Milton // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

The red headed woman stood before Andrew with sorrowful eyes. He had just recently discovered her affair with one Javier Escuella, how Grace had snuck away with the man while Milton was out of town and spent hours tucked into the man’s side under the cover of darkness.

“I would think there is no solace to be had, Andrew.” Grace raised her glass to her lips and took a drink. “My apologies mean nothing to you.” Grace gave a simple shrug. It was not that she did not love Andrew but there were things he blatantly refused to give her that Javier had so willingly done. Soft touches and warm embraces.

“Like I have told you already,” Grace set her empty glass on the counter and stared at it. “I did not know he works for the man you were hunting. The affair ended the moment I found out.”

Did she really owe Andrew anymore answers? He had done nothing but be angry at her since the month after their wedding. Sure, he tried to spoil her, take her to fine restaurants, allow her to simply live the lifestyle she had been in since her parents immigrated here. But it wasn’t what Grace needed. It had never been.

“I do not love him, I never did.” Grace finally met his eyes. “A sentiment I am sure you are familiar with.”

After a long pause, Grace sighed. “You trapped me in a loveless marriage and told me to be happy. You stole away my future and my happiness. Therefore,” Her eyes grew devoid of light as she stared at him. “We are even. We are both trapped.”

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

“were you watching me?” ( Milton // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

This was the first time Grace had been inside of Andrews apartment without one of her parents accompanying her. They had been given more freedom since he and her father had reached an agreement regarding their courtship. Grace was to marry Andrew Milton within the next few weeks.

Tonight had been the night Andrew had informed her and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t over the moon excited to marry him. He was handsome, tall, and what she had seen he was kind to her. She’d heard whispering a about the man and his general disposition toward the world but he’d never treated her that way.

He had kissed her for the first time a couple months ago, when her parents had been out of town and Milton had seen a man following her home. He had stayed with her overnight to ensure her safety and they had kissed. But tonight, Grace found herself falling into the throws of passion with Andrew. Neither of them had wanted to stop after her lips had met the sensitive skin of his throat and he had let out that intoxicating noise. She had been a goner the moment his hands hand touched her skin.

So now she lay in his bed, under the duvet, her body still reeling from the new pleasure he had introduced her to. Her light green eyes watched him with a tenderness she could never fake. Andrew was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressing himself to take her back home. Her eyes scanned over his bare back,watching the muscles stretch and flex. His hair was disheveled, hanging more in his face, and Grace could not peel her eyes away from him. Even when he turned and asked her a question, her eyes did not break from him.

“I was,” She admitted lightly, trying not to disturb the quiet of the room. Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, almost a sense of shame washing over her. Was she not supposed to appreciate his body the way he had just appreciated hers? She wanted to reach out and touch him but she didn’t. “I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable, I was really just appreciating you.”

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

“don’t push my temper.” ( Milton // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

Grace took in a steady deep breath when Andrew gave her the warnings of his temper and the possible repercussions if she continued down this path. Her petite frame turned from its position at the kitchen sink to look at him.

“That isn’t a hard feat, Andrew.” she informed him. Their current argument, or really lack there of, wasn’t about anything different than what it normally was. Andrew was cold toward his wife unless he craved her body that day. Even then, it was limited and demanding. All she wanted was to be held at night by the man she loved but she found she was growing used to an empty bed and cold sheets.

Andrew never really argued. He stated his truth and then got frustrated when Grace tried to tell him how she felt. More often than not, he claimed that she had known he was like this when they wed but that wasn’t the truth. Andrew had not been so distant from her. He had given her soft touches, held her hand in his, even spared her smiles or soft chuckles. Now there was nothing.

“You are always angry, darling. At me or the world. I just wish things could be different for us.” Grace placed a hand on his chest, searching his eyes for any sign of the man she’d fallen for. “I know it won’t ever be the same but I do love you.”

“I wish you could love me, too.”

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

“I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” - Circe by Madeline Miller

First and last photos by @moon-shining-montgomery

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

( no excuse writing meme ) FIRST — the first two sentences of my current project

"Jaycee Givens once dreamed of a life as simple as her mothers."

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

LAST — the most recently written two sentences of my current project

He took in a breath to let his body relax and then his hand fell from her waist.

And just like that...*Character name* was just...gone.

I removed the name because spoilers for an upcoming chapter of Escaping Harlan Alive 👀

[professorfangirl]

no excuses writing meme, askbox version

(Nicked from iambickilometer):

drop one of these bad boys in my askbox and i will post, without editing

FIRST — the first two sentences of my current project

LAST — the most recently written two sentences of my current project

NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

[insert prompt here] — you post a prompt, and i’ll write three sentences based on that prompt, set in the same time/setting as my current project

THE END — i’ll make up an ending, or post the ending if i’ve written it

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

[grace-pricilla-taylor]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐞

* Grace Taylor

𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | lies | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇𝐒

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 & 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒

art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | beach combing | ballet | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing  | leather-working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling

Tagged: stole it

Tagging: steal it from me if you want