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Happy Fat Jacob Friday to those who celebrate, here’s a little reader insert thing with no-cult au redneck mountain man (18+! Mdni!)

#is this thing on. is this anything #first time doing a blurb! I’m used to longer drawn out things so this is new #sliver speaks #far cry 5 #jacob seed #slivers writing

𝗡𝗼 𝗖𝘂𝗹𝘁 𝗔𝗨 𝗝𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗦𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀⌖

𖠰- Jacob moves to Hope County with his brothers after they’ve all reunited. Joseph wanted life away from the cities, from the noise, and after John protested before reluctantly agreeing, Jacob already had his sights on a piece of land in Hope County.

𖠰- Far enough away from the road, hidden behind the trees of the Whitetail Mountains, is a single wide trailer with a half-assed porch. The wood was already sun-bleached. Dirty boots sat by the front door, a toolbox up against the railing, a grill/smoker combo John had gotten him pushed up against the side of the trailer and a freezer where he keeps meat beside that. There’s a small fire pit made up of a circle of old bricks and a couple of chairs in the front yard. Against the trees behind the trailer was a tanning and stretching rack with a drying line beside it, some buckets below it barely cleaned of blood from the last time he went hunting and put more venison in the freezer.

𖠰- Everything in his trailer is right where he needs it to be. He isn’t messy. He still wakes up at the crack of dawn and folds his sheets down tight, as if he still had to worry about someone barking over his shoulder that it wasn’t the right way of doing things. Keys are placed on a hook by the door. Tools are organized. The only signs of life inside of his place is the faint smell of coffee and cigarette smoke he leaves behind before he goes to work.

𖠰- Works construction. He has to be doing things with his hands, mainly precision tasks. Carpentry, hanging drywall, laying out form. He’ll show up to work in any weather, not believing in any excuses even if he disregards his own self. He’s shown up to work many times with too many aches to notice a single relaxed muscle in his body, too many times exposing the burns on his body to the heat of the summer sun.

𖠰- Drives an early 90’s Ford F-150. The paint is a faded red. The door doesn’t like to close without a slam. The passenger window doesn’t work despite no one sitting in it majority of the time. It may need some tuneups here and there, but he keeps up with it enough. It takes him where he has to go, and that’s what matters.

𖠰- Holding a rifle is still second nature to him, so hunting is something he does often. He doesn’t trophy hunt though—the only thing decorative he has in the trailer is a pair of antlers mounted on the wall he just didn’t care to throw away. Other than that, he hunts for food, skinning all the game and getting the meat, sometimes keeping the pelts if he deems it in good enough condition. Most of the time he’ll find someone in town willing to buy them off of him though.

𖠰- Goes to local veteran’s groups every now and then. He isn’t an active participant, but on days where his hands shake and he can still feel the dry heat of the desert, sand lashing his skin as he walks through it, he’ll go. He won’t trade stories or show what piece of himself he left out there, but will maybe respond if people are talking about what bases were worse to get stationed at throughout deployment.

𖠰- Sometimes he still expects to wake up in barracks or in a homeless shelter. It even surprises him when he wakes to the low hum of a ceiling fan and the illuminated numbers of a digital clock on his bedside table. Nights like that he heads to the diner for a late night, early bird special just to get some kind of feeling of placement back to his senses.

𖠰- He’ll have a beer when evenings get hard. He hates to do it, can see himself in Old Man Seed’s drunken yelling inside of his memory, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He’ll never get drunk, but even just a bottle and a half makes him feel some sort of guilt within himself, a weakness he thought he’d be above. When he gets done, he throws the whole pack away anyway. Just for peace of mind.

𖠰- Has Sunday dinners with Joseph and John. When it’s his turn to host, they’re greeted with smoked ribs and barbecue sauce. Joseph asked if the sauce was homemade, and all he does is grumble in confirmation. During his time in the desert, the dehydration he suffered with left him with an altered sense of taste. It lead him to try and make his own blends with sauces and spices, even if he’d never been a big fan of them. The bland taste got old after a while.

𖠰- He doesn’t care for television. Still, he has a CRT TV that stays exclusively on the western channel. He doesn’t watch it, but it’s nice background noise.

Authors note: it is so late but this has been sitting in my drafts for a bit and i was antsy to get it out. Please excuse any errors in grammar as i kind of just skimmed over it. Thank you all for reading!

#im srry if this is messy im doing this at 5am and by the time i was finished with it i was half asleep #far cry 5 #fc5 #jacob seed #sliver speaks #slivers writing