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#charles smith rdr2
marttapav · 2 days
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wife reveal
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Modern RDR2! Reacting to you calling them “Husband”
After that tiktok trend where ladies have been filming videos or taking orders and refer to their boyfriend as “husband.” Some of the fellas go into multiple categories.
Responds immediately with, “I ain’t your husband”: MICAH, Josiah, JOHN, Bill
Looks around and says, “Husband? Where?!”: Sean (as a joke), John (not as a joke).
Stares at you, waits for you to correct yourself, is happy when you don’t: Charles, ARTHUR, Javier.
Responds by calling you his wife/husband: CHARLES, HOSEA, Javier(nearly passed out tho).
Follows after you to make sure he heard it right: Javier, Dutch, Kieran, Arthur.
Gets cocky about it, starts calling himself your husband publicly: Lenny, Hosea, SEAN, EAGLE FLIES, Micah.
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weeinerville · 2 months
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charles doodle b4 bed (^_^)
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nutluvs · 3 months
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they're all my husbands it's canon we're all happy
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alpineredemption · 4 months
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had my first shot of testosterone the other night so now i have to choose a fictional man to obsess over before puberty 2 chucks me head first into a homosexual fugue state.
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fllnordr · 5 months
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So… I have a lot to say about this post I saw on my feed today. I took screenshots and blocked out the username for the sake of the OP. I didn’t want this to be a callout post for one specific user, and do not wish them any hate or harm. I DO have a whole heap to say about this and the treatment Charles gets from the rdr fandom as a whole, not only the OP in the screenshot.
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I have a lot of problems with this post, and I have been wanting to talk about this issue and pattern I’ve noticed in the rdr community. Again, I do not mean to send any hate in OP’s direction or suggest that OP is racist in any sense. With that being said…
It’s an inherently racial stereotype to assume that Charles, a black and native man, is illiterate with such a lack of evidence or real reasoning behind it. He was isolated for most of his life after the age of thirteen, and he’s been with a gang for only six months. He is very private, and he is shy. He doesn’t talk much at all, much less about reading. I have never seen this sort of assumption made about any other character, claiming they’re illiterate, because they’re never seen reading at camp.
This is the most ridiculous take I have ever seen. Charles is the one who buried Arthur with his own two hands and created his gravestone. He was the only person who knew where Arthur was buried, hence being the sole creator of Arthur’s final resting place. Charles’ handwriting is the one we see on the gravestone. Charles is the one who wrote the inscription on the cross. He is not illiterate.
I think a problem I have with a lot of Charles fans is that they see him as a blank slate. They see Charles, a physically attractive man, who is quiet and take him for that alone. He is often seen as a blank canvas to project their own ideas onto and sort of mold to their own use and convince. And often times, whether knowingly or not, Charles is consistently watered down to racial stereotypes. Race is obviously a part of who he is, and it affects a lot of his actions, as it does with everyone, but that is not all who he is.
Charles is clinging to the fringes of what little of his culture that he does have. His mother was taken from him as a boy, and he holds onto what little he does have and that absence of his mother, and both of his cultures (because people also tend to ignore the fact that he is also black) is a huge part of who he is. But a lot of folks would rather see his shyness as blankness. He is not levelheaded, but he is moral. He is not always morally correct though. It’s frustrating to constantly see who he is being ignored for the sake of the false persona that’s been created for him.
I think a lot of folks need to listen to the one dialogue of Charles opening up at the campfire. Yes it is a relatable speech for a lot of reasons, but it is also about his race, how he experiences the world, and how he feels as though he has no place because of the loss of his mother, the lack of knowing who he is, his culture, and a whole host of other things. He is one of the best written characters in the game, and to brush that aside to make him into this ‘softhearted super caring ideal s/o’ is so frustrating. This is the same man who was ready to kill Uncle if the need arose. He is moral, but they are morals of his own, and he is not always correct. He is also flawed, just like everyone else. He is not a saint. He is a flawed and conflicted man.
To disregard Charles for who he is, is such a great disservice to the character and to all the work put into him, his story, and other people who have and continue to share the same experiences as he does.
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desolationed1 · 5 days
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charles!!!!1!!11!
first time drawing charles so its not that good 💔 i tried
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johnpriceslamb · 11 days
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𝓽 𝓱 𝓻 𝓮 𝓪 𝓭 𝓮 𝓭 𝓮 𝓵 𝓮 𝓰 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮
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🪡 Before you joined the gang, you used to be a tailor. An event was coming up soon which involved looking fancy, meaning that you had to take his measurements for a new suit.
𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ⋆ female ! reader ⋆ hyper-feminine ! reader ⋆ very suggestive content w/ javier ⋆ close proximity ⋆ reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than said chars ⋆ poorly google translates spanish >.> ⋆ not proof read nor edited ⋆ wrd count/1.2k
🪡 arthur morgan ⋆ charles smith ⋆ john marston ⋆ javier escuella (sep) x f! reader
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🪡 𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓷,
“stand still!”
You prattle on for the umpteenth time this evening. The loyal enforcer of the gang grunts at the feeling of the cold tape measure wrapped around his bare waist, as he begrudgingly lifts his arms up to avoid messing up the measurements.
“For someone so little,” He groans at the feeling of the flexible measure tightening deliberately around him, “You sure do have a lot of attitude.”
You ignore him, of course. You scribble down the exact number of his measurement down on a piece of paper with a slight hum. The beads of your delicate necklace hang delicately off your neck as you bend over the edge of the table a bit, elbows propping your demure head for support. Arthur couldn’t help but boredly take a peak of what you were writing down, before ultimately sighing as he hopes for this to go a little quicker.
the cigar in his mouth hangs low on his bottom lip, embers flying out from the tip. He takes another slow drag, before letting it out with a gentle sigh- to your direction. You throw the man a puffed-cheek glare, your little nose scrunching up at the smell.
He wouldn’t admit the fact that he felt warm when your fingers would touch his body so subtly when measuring him. Or when your face was so close to his ragged skin, he could really feel your soft breath. Did you always look that pretty when you’re concentrated?
“Hey, Arthur?” That familiar high-pitched voice catches his attention. His hands lazily grab ahold of his low-hung belt, before leaning in.
“Mh?” He lowly grunts, squinting his eyes at the sight of your beady eyes staring up at him. He chews at the end of his cigarette, letting out a huff when the smoke unexpectedly enters inside his body.
You cheekily smile, tinkering your dewy lashes at him to feign innocence. The pencil in your grip is tapped multiple times on the paper, “Wouldn’t pink be a suitable colour choice for your suit?”
“[name].” You���re lucky you were blessed with a cute little face, otherwise he’d have no issue throwing you in the lake nearby.
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🪡 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓱,
“..I’m not familiar with getting measured, I apologise if I make anything difficult.” Charles quietly explains to you in that baritone voice he had. You can’t help that sweet fluttering in your chest at the apology.
“Nonsense!” You wave him off with a toothy smile, “All you’ll have to do is stand still.”
The gentle giant in-front of you slowly nods. He’s not uncomfortable, but he’s kind of on the edge since this was new to him. But since it’s you, he can feel some of the tension in him melt. Usually, he tends to avoid interacting with other people at camp.
But you? Something about you made him draw closer.
“Just a matter of standing still? I think I can manage with that. No trouble with me.” A ghost of a smile slowly etches onto his dark skin at your expression. Almost.. puppy like.
You’re about to measure his full height to ensure the exact proportions of the suit are balanced, only to realise..
Your height (lack thereof.. oops.) comes in as a bit of an issue here. For plot purposes, there aren’t any stools around nor could you go on your tippy toes to measure him fully.
“..Ah.” Charles blinks at the situation. Amusement crosses his face, before gesturing to hand over the end of the measuring tape. He holds it just at his head, patiently watching you peak at the number it falls down to at his ankles.
“Oh my..” You let out a tiny squeak at the number, a shy smile appearing on your sweet face before scribbling it down on a piece of paper nearby.
“Oh my?” He repeats you, “What? Is that.. Is that bad?”
“No, no!” You stammer, meekly brushing your hands over your light pink petticoat, “You’re just.. Y’know. You’re tall.”
“Oh?” He smiles lightly, lovingly looking at your light expression, “I hope that won’t be too much of a problem.”
“It’s not a problem. Quite the opposite, actually.” You quietly mumble the last part. Oh dear, you can feel his gaze, practically warming up your soul, staring at you as if you hung the stars. You feel your cheeks heating up.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing!”
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🪡 𝓳𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷,
never in your life have you wanted to smack a man in the face so badly.
“Woah,” John grins like a newly wet dog from running through a puddle, “Y’here to take my measurements or to feel me up?”
All you did was just wrap the tape around the swell of his hips. Your cheeks puff out, purposefully tightening the tape to get your point behind.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind either way.” He cheekily smiles, before scoffing at the feeling of the measuring tape deliberately tightening around him.
You swear you can smell the scent of booze. You ignore it, before straightening your back to measure his waist. What you can’t ignore however, was that raspy drawl his voice had which somehow makes you fall for him over and over again.
He may be as dumb as rocks, but his little antics drew you in.
“Hey,” He calls out to catch your attention. You sweetly tilt your head up, and to the side when he looks down at you.
“You gon’ pick the colours of my suit, or do I get to?” He asks curiously.
You ponder, “Well.. Do you want to?”
He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. “Nah. Reckon you should. You’re the professional, after all.”
You can’t help but let out a soft giggle, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
When you’ve finished his measurements, you excitedly turn to him to discuss the colour choices which’ll be appropriate for the event coming up soon. Both of your eyes meet and he peers down at you with a loving gaze, it catches your breath a bit before you force yourself to look down at the notes which contained your notes.
“I think your suit should have a low v cut to really show that upper-body of yours. Perhaps a classic navy blue as your primary colour, and— Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
He blinks a few times, a bit sheepish. “I am, I just don’t got a clue on what you’re saying, sweetheart.”
You can feel your hand tighten.
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🪡 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪,
“Ah.. Quite close there, aren’t you?” He has this.. devilishly handsome smile you want to wipe off badly. He peers down at you as if you were nothing but a little dollie while you measured his chest.
“‘M not trying to be!” You whine, going just a bit lower to wrap the measuring tape around his waist now. You hum delightfully as you find the exact number, squinting your eyes to see where the tip of the measurement tape lands on.
While you’re busy with your own little thing, you don’t notice the way Javier admires you from above. He can’t help but comment on it too.
“You know,” He starts of with a slow, lazy smile. Mischievous, even.
“You’re looking very pretty working down there.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the word ‘very’ in his sentence. It’s subtle, but if you were to be paying attention to him you’d get it immediately.
You tilt your head up to innocently thank him with a small smile etched on your pretty little face, before realising what his words were implying. That little..
“Javier!” You scold him with a very high-pitched tone. You feel your dignity fading away as soon as he replies with a mocking laugh to your whining.
“You know I’m just playing around, chica. Don’t take it so seriously.” His hand goes down to cheekily pinch your squishy cheek to get his point through. You frown.
“You’re horrible.” You babble, begrudgingly taking his last measurement. You’re very tempted to give him the cold shoulder, but decided against it.
“You’re too kind.” He sarcastically replies, that same lazy grin on his face from the start as when he sees you scribbling down some notes about his measurements and preferences. You throw a tiny glare at him, “I’m the one creating your suit here, be nice!”
“Mhm? I haven’t gotten to express my gratitude yet have I?” He takes the notepad away from you, setting it aside before easily picking you up by the waist and setting you on the table, your legs dangle off the edge easily as he nears you.
“Permiteme que, querida.”
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noas-art · 21 days
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It would be either a miracle or my alternate if I said that I finally got Charles Smith out of my mind♡
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God I'm pathetic
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mossytines · 1 year
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Gossip
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Masterlist Word count: 550 Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Summary: You know that John likes you. You know that Arthur likes you. They know about each other, but the others don't. Gossip spreads and, what feels like a ticking time bomb, turns out to be unconnected. 
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'I don't think he knows,' Abigail says as she sits, knitting with Mary-Beth and Tilly while watching you and Arthur talk. John has gone out hunting with Charles to learn how to use a bow as he is useless with it. Arthur had asked Charles to do so but Abigail suspects he had other motives for getting John away from camp.  'I think he does,' Tilly argues with a grin, 'why else would he ask Charles? Everyone knows John is too impatient to learn how to use a bow.' She's got a point, Abigail figures.  Things had been weird ever since you joined the gang. Sadie had found you in Valentine and recognized you as an old friend. In fact, the friend who set her up with her husband. She told the others you seemed lost and needed some place where people have your back. Most were sceptical but your turned out to be a hard worker and a great hunter, bringing in huge game for the camp whenever you went out. Dutch had almost considered letting you take a wagon along so you could bring enough to sell it.  That great aim of yours also pulled in different attention. Both John and Arthur became more than smitten with your friendly and kind demeanour. Mary-Beth had suggested that Arthur liked you for your kindness and willingness to listen while John liked you for your viciousness and rough edges. Both great attributes that make you who you are.  'Well, either way, they're both fools,' Mary-Beth claims, ending the argument.  'Do you think she knows,' Tilly questions.  'For sure she knows,' Mary-Beth answers as all of them watch you gently touch Arthur's shoulder as he makes a joke not worthy of the laughter that comes out of you.  'She's really toying with them, ain't she,' Abigail grumbles. Despite liking you quite a bit, she fears what it might do to the gang if Arthur and John are pinned against each other. It's a bad predicament to be in and since the year that John left the gang is still a sore spot for Arthur, Abigail fears things might explode with the littlest of meddling. When her and John put an end to it, she was slightly relieved, but this is just insanity. 
'Do you think they know,' Arthur questions you. You shake your head with a grin.  'No, they probably think I'm hopping between you two. They wouldn't be gossiping about us as much if they knew.'  'Fair point.' He puts a gentle hand on your waist to pull you closer and watches at the jaws drop across camp.  'Are you trying to rile them up, cowboy,' you tease as you take a step closer to him. He shrugs. You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his jaw. 'Come on, let's go join Charles and John.' Arthur looks over at the women once more as he leans towards you.  'If only they knew about Charles.' You shove him away with a laugh.  'Oh, stop it. I liked you better when you were still being shy about liking me.' 
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marttapav · 26 days
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i love him so much HELP MEEEE
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Maybe I'm just basic:
But I like to use this scene below for figuring out Javier and Charles' usual types. Now, this doesn't mean they wouldn't think a woman was pretty if they didn't look this way. I just think these two women show what they normally like.
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CHARLES
From what we can gather, it looks like Javier and Charles found two prostitutes to charm. Charles is with a dark-haired woman with a tanned complexion who is much shorter than him. We know he's going for her because he has his hand FIRMLY on her lower back when Arthur approaches these four in the saloon.
Her hair is in a long braid, natural and feminine. Seems that he likes a girl with warm, soft features. Big brown eyes and a sweet smile. I don't think he necessarily goes for women based on size though. It's probably easier to find women that are smaller than him. Her complexion, hair texture, and facial features might hint that she's an Indigenous woman or possibly biracial. While Charles isn't prejudiced, he might be inclined towards someone he can relate to culturally.
Charles is a bit drunk, but he's so into this woman that he's grabbing for her hand as she walks away!
JAVIER
The voluptuous redhead is Javier's potential date for the evening. She has full lips, bright hair, and appears to be the more outspoken of the two women. She's leaning back, but from the perspective of the shot it looks as though she might be slightly taller than Javier. This might mean that Javier isn't the sort of man to mind if a woman is taller than he is. And she's a whole lot of woman.
He's clearly drunk, but he's also clearly trying to keep her focus on him. When the redhead calls Arthur a 'mountain man,' Javier agrees with her friend that Arthur is "nothing but a pussycat." It could be inferred that he didn't want Arthur to frighten them off. However, I think that Javier was trying not to lose her to the more rugged Arthur Morgan. He is at her side, desperate for her to keep paying attention to him.
Based on how desperate they both were for these two women, I think it's safe to say they have a type.
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smushystrawbabies · 10 months
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Red Dead Crossing? Animal Redemption? Cowboy Crossing? 😰😰
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polakina · 2 months
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Nonnie from that Javier request here again 👁️
Javier has been rotting my brain for days now but an addition to this is Charles.
We know from that bar fight mission in Valentine that Javier and Charles have different tastes in women but what if they somehow land their eyes on the same lady? Who just happen to be someone the gang newly recruited.
Javier who makes the funniest jokes with flirtatious undertones and keeps the drinks and songs going(definitely the more fun of the two), but also Charles who's more touch than talk and ALWAYS has his hand on her lower back (I'm frothing at the mouth for this).
nonnie i love u, never stop sending these requests
i took this on a slightly different route than what i was expecting to write, but i hope you still like it :)
rating: mature
hard to ignore
It had been a few months since you had joined the gang. Time had flown by, with the heists, the jobs, the hunting. Everything. But you’d gotten to know the people quite well.
Arthur was quiet, but he was sweet. Hosea was one of the loveliest men you’d ever met, which also made him one of the most dangerous when it came to his scams. John and Abigail argued so much that it became white noise to you at night. Micah was an ass. That’s all you had to say about that man. 
Javier was…an interesting personality. He was kind to you. He played guitar well. He always managed to catch your eye across the fire at night in camp. You always smiled, meeting his gaze.
“Morning, querida,” he’d always say in the mornings. “Looking beautiful as ever.” His accent always did something to you. The purr in his tone, the gravel in his voice, especially in the morning. He was a smooth talker, and he knew it. From your perspective, this was how he acted with all women. How you thought he approached every lady who came his way.
But when night fell, he turned into a different person. He was a confident man. In the way he walked, he talked. How he moved through the camp, interacting with everyone on his way to the campfire. How he presented himself, bringing life to the party. Camp always seemed more lively, more fun when he brought himself into the centre of it.
Drinks were flowing just as the sun dipped behind the hill. The guitar was pulled out and its strings were plucked in a melodious tune that got everyone dancing.
It was almost as though he was singing for you. To you. His eyes never left yours when he sang those songs. Those songs that made everyone sway in couples, in a harmonious dance. God, he was good at it. Good at making you feel seen. His entire focus was just on you.
“Enjoying your night, conejita?” He smiled as he made his way over to you, two bottles of liquor in hand, passing one over to you.
“Don’t call me that,” you rolled your eyes, the corners of your lips upturned. He called you bunny. A playful little endearment you’d noticed in your first week of being here. You only realised what it meant when you were strolling through the south end of Saint Denis; an older gentleman called his wife the same thing and you’d asked him what it meant. “Bunny,” he’d said. “My wife, she’s like a cute little bunny. So the name stuck.”
Javier smiled brightly at you. “But it suits you so perfectly, conejita.”
You rolled your eyes again, unable to hide your smile at this point. He was always so upfront with you, never left anything to the unknown. If he didn’t like you, it’d be blatantly obvious. But if he liked you, the entire camp knew. There’d be signs. Not even subtle ones. With you, he found an excuse to come and talk to you, even if you were doing menial tasks like laundry. He’d keep you company, sometimes help out with whatever you were doing. Javier liked to compliment you a lot. Like, a lot. 
Compliment you in ways that made you hide your blush sometimes. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in this light, conejita?” “Don’t look at me with those eyes, they’re too pretty to look away from.” The man had a way with words, and you never knew how to respond.
Charles was quiet when you had first joined the camp. Kept to himself mostly, just like Arthur did. But there was something about him that drew you to his nonchalant personality. His large build, strong hands, deadset glare. He was handsome. So goddamn handsome. Never a part of the group, not really even during parties or meals. 
He stayed by himself in the first few weeks of your introduction. He always kept a wary eye out in the camp, and you’d caught his eyes lingering on yours a few times, but often times you thought it was your imagination. He’d not spoken to you for a long while in camp until you were the one to approach him.
But now, months down the line, you knew it wasn’t your imagination. He looked right at you now, not staring in a strange way that made your skin crawl, but observing you. Fascinated by you.
Charles didn’t speak much. He didn’t have to. It was his touches and how he handled himself around you that told you everything you needed to know about the man.
No matter how many times you assured him you could dismount your horse, or scale a wall, he was there. To help you. Always offering a hand, or stabilising you on unsteady rocks. The two of you often paired yourselves together on jobs, since you worked well together as a team. 
Around camp, he’d become a lot closer with you. His hand finding your lower back when he was behind you, so you knew he was there as he reached around to grab another bottle of liquor. His hand outstretched to help you up after you were sitting on the floor by the campfire for too long, your legs aching from the weight of your body resting on your ass.
But his favourite thing was when the wind blew a little too hard, and he had the excuse to brush your hair out from in front of your face. He stood taller than you, a lot taller. His build was wider than yours, more muscles in his arms and chest. The muscles in his back contorting and stretching when he mounted his horse. You looked. Of course, you looked. It was hard not to.
Javier and Charles had different ways of getting your attention. Javier was more talkative, complimenting to you, a lot more confident with his words. Charles, however, took his time with things. He liked to watch from afar, casting small smiles your way whenever you looked over. He communicated with his touch, his hands, his light hold. But Javier communicated with his words. You couldn’t tell which one you preferred more. 
Both of these men knew that they equally vied for your attention. They saw it everyday. They didn’t mind. They didn’t see it as a game to compete for you. They liked how flustered you would get from each others advances.
So maybe…you wouldn’t have to choose between them. Since they seemed perfectly happy working together to get your attention. Maybe, just maybe, you could be selfish and have both.
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nutluvs · 3 months
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HE'S SO FUCKCGIJN IGIGIJJI U4RHG ETIERIFHVERUHGYRE8HAERVHUER WHST INT HE WORLD. i love him in the warm lighting and i need more of it
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