#was pretty fun to do something different for once

[floralscented]

♡ㅤSPORTS CAR! with [ dean winchester ] & [ angel!reader ]ㅤ (18+!!)

. . . dove really likes dean's car. or, let him drive it real far.

notes, i was going to post a dean & angel thing for his birthday... better late than never! have a sports car by tate mcrae inspired drabble as an apology<3 THIS IS SMUT! MDNI! also i don't think it needs to be said, but don't attempt this at home. all actions performed by professionals!

★ ˚⋆

dean only needs one hand to drive.

it was once something you marveled at — his innate ability to speed down open streets, tires squealing in the dusty dirt roads, as one hand steered the wheel and the other crept up your thigh.

skills needed to be exercised and pushed to strengthen their foundations. that was along the lines of what dean had said, once, before his fingers reached the button on your jeans to undo them.

even broken clocks were right twice a day. dean did not need both hands to steer the car, as he told you, and he did not need both to drive well.

he pushes a little harder on the gas, the engine revving, the sound of it miniscule compared to the mewling in the back of your throat as you ground your hips farther down on the length of his cock. his free hand rests firmly on your waist, trying to keep you steady as you squirmed.

"do you want me to crash, baby?" he asks in your ear, words a little breathless, "is that it?"

your lips stutter open and closed in a wordless denial, only managing to shake your head instead of mouth out a response. dean's grip on your hip guides your shallow movements farther down onto him, stretching your tight heat around the girth of his thick cock. "no, you don't want us to crash, dove," he mumbles, his breath hot in the crook of your neck, mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder, "that'd ruin the fun, wouldn't it? my pretty dove likes the thrill."

dean shifts a little beneath you, the act making him bury deeper into you, a little gasp falling from your pouty pink lips. he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade in response, a shudder wracking through your muscles at the light touch. "yeah? tell me how much y'like it, dove."

you weren't sure that you had the capabilities to say something coherent in that moment, but you choke on a response regardless. "yes," is what comes out, and even then, it's more of a gasp than it is a word. dean chuckles low and raspy in your ear, bucking his hips up in slow, deliberate movements that make his foot press harder on the gas pedal. the engine revs again. your head tips back into his chest. "dean─"

"y'know how fast we're goin'?" dean grunts into your ear, the hand on your hip shifting to grab one of your wrists and pry it off of its death grip on his muscular thigh. he lifts your hand to his mouth for a second, kissing your open palm, before resting it on the steering wheel. "not nearly fast enough."

the same hand reaches across you for your other hand, and finally, you pull your eyes away from the expansive back roads to watch his movements. another kiss to your palm, the other joined at ten and two on the steering wheel. "what are─"

"do you trust me?"

never have you nodded yes faster before. yes, you trusted dean. yes, you would do anything for dean. yes, he knew this; exploited it often, prodding at what he knew was your sole weakness. dean's hand on the wheel lifts off, both of them now going back to your thighs.

"make sure we don't get ourselves killed f'me, yeah?" dean's laugh is breathless and airy, the same nervous energy that you'd heard that first night alone with him, when he'd taught you how to drive. the circumstances were different now; impossibly higher stakes.

you swallow thickly, jerking the wheel to the right again when it starts to drift into wrong lane. you're distracted ─ dean can't possibly expect perfection from you when your head is in the clouds and spinning.

thankfully, there's no scolding or scathing comment. the only thing that comes is a slight lift of your hips with his grip beneath your thighs as he shifts again, half sitting and half sat up. dean bends you over the steering wheel just enough for you to keep a steady control over the car, and just enough to─

a mixture of the car's revving engine and his panting breaths in your ear and skin slapping against skin overwhelm your senses. he's buried inside of you now, enough to where you can feel each thrust bruising against your cervix.

"what would the other angels say if they saw my angel, all spread out for me like this, goin' 78 in a 40?" his hands move to your ass, squeezing the skin between his warm palms, using that grip to work you deeper onto him. you're forced to keep your head forward, eyes on the road, when all you want to do is squirm and bury yourself back into his chest and cry out.

you barely manage a whimpering, throaty whine of, "prob'bly say─ t'slow down─"

dean laughs heartily this time, his nose brushing against your jawline, pressing hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat. his head lifts, and so does one of his hands, fingers grasping the hem of your dress and pulling it up again from where it'd slipped back down.

a glance in the rearview mirror reveals the fabric held tightly between his teeth. his eyes are downcast, watching intently as he buries into you, his cock slick with your juices. his eyes flick up to meet yours, one corner quirked upwards. "eyes on the road, dove."

you glance back out of the windshield just in time to see a stop sign─ and blow past it. dean's head hits the back of the seat with a thump as he laughs this time, and the lightness in his voice is enough to make you laugh, too. as breathless as him, a burst of adrenaline sparking through your veins.

how long had it been since dean felt this free? part of you wishes to keep this moment going forever, to travel the universe in the backroads as he finds ways to bend you and maneuver you around in every space of his car, to wail his name in every state. the other part knows you aren't going to last much longer. there's energy pumping through your veins that shoots straight down to between your legs, your foot moving to rest over his on the gas, pressing down harder.

you expect an easy, tiger. it wouldn't be the first time that you'd tested a limit and found the invisible edge of a barrier. what comes out of dean's mouth is a rasping groan and a, "there's my girl."

he doesn't say anything after that, which somehow proves to make everything all the more intense. kansas is wheatfields and long, winding roads that never seem to end.

the wind rushes in through the open windows, your hair blowing in your eyes, roaring in your ears. how long had it been since you felt this alive?

it's a passing thought, but it leaves traces of itself in your blood. dean deserved to live a little, sometimes; you deserved to live a little all of the time, to let him teach you all that he knew and relive it alongside you.

dean's finger pries your mouth open, releasing your lip from your teeth. "make that face again n' m'not gonna last."

you smile, a wicked little thing that he's began to call your devil's grin. you sink further back onto him with each of his thrusts, and he groans all over again, something unintelligible in your ear about being wicked and unfair and other whining sounds that sound more like excuses to keep this dragging on.

you don't want the moment to end. he doesn't want the moment to end. but fate had its pretty ways of cruelty, and you were beginning to feel the telltale signs of impending bliss. you move to bite down on your lip again and find dean's finger instead, his mouth trailing a string of kisses down your shoulder blade. "nice try, honey."

with the growth of your relationship came a longer list of pet names. dove, baby, honey, my girl. each one set a fire ablaze in your belly. you stumble on a breathy moan, your eyes briefly squeezing shut before you remember they need to be open, your lives in your hands, held delicately between your palms.

"i'm─" the words are difficult. dean likes to talk for the both of you while he fucks the sentiments and the sentences out of you.

somehow, the grind of his hips and each shallow thrust becomes more erratic. "yeah," dean says in response, and it's no clarification to you, either, what he's trying to say.

silence again, except for the wind listening in, and the car's rumbling engine. you're racing against time and yourself, each gasping breath becoming throatier, whinier, dean's hot breath on your sweaty skin making you squirm, until─

you cry out, fingers tightening around the steering wheel, your legs clenching together and foot lifting off of the pedal at the intensity of it. dean's pace never slows even as your heart pounds, each thrust more slick-sounding from the orgasm. you almost lift a hand off of the steering wheel to stop him, to grasp his thigh and pause, but his cock twitches inside of you against the fluttering heartbeat of your sensitive walls, and there's no point to stopping him.

always in sync, now, sam once said in passing after you and dean had stopped dancing around each other. he didn't know how true it really was.

dean's cock stays buried in you, filling you up with the thick and hot release of his come. he presses his forehead to the curve of your neck, his foot slowly easing off of the gas finally. the car slows, but your hands don't leave the wheel, gripping it so tight that your knuckles have paled.

"m'gonna pull over," you mumble, easing the car to the side of the road, the right half of it treading spurts grass and the left still kicking dust and dirt up in baby's wake. "because i can't see."

dean's mouth curves against your skin; you feel it rather than see it, since his face has not left the spot between your shoulder blades yet. "you're a little adrenaline junkie in the makin', y'know that?" a light kiss to one of the ridges along your spine as he slumps back into the seat properly, tugging you down along with him in the process. "gettin' off on the speed and the danger."

he catches your elbow before you rear it back into his ribs. this part is a common occurrence of your little escapades. your tricks are becoming easy to pick up on. "you start wrestlin' me, honey, i'm gonna remind you how that backseat feels."

supposed to be a threat but you both know it's a promise, a given. as if you could ever forget how the leather of the backseat felt on your bare skin, anyways.

you twist your neck around once you've fully rolled to a stop along the side of the road, just enough to see the glaze in dean's glimmering green eyes. the moon hangs above his head, now, painting him in a wash of pale blue. he's always been beautiful, but there's something about the post-bliss of him that makes him devastating.

his smile becomes shier when he notices how you're studying him. you open your mouth to tell him everything you love about him, overwhelmed with it all at once, but he intercepts it with a warm, lingering kiss to your cheekbone.

your eyes close, face scrunching up as the single kiss becomes an onslaught of them over that side of your face. "dean!"

"mm?" he's not deterred, and again, you want to tell him every way that you love him. love how he loves, love how his dark eyelashes frame and brighten the pale of his eyes, love how he's always gentle even when he's trying to be rougher with you, love how he kisses and nips purple bruises into your neck in the shape of hearts.

maybe you would have said it, too. maybe you would have opened your heart and let himself make a home within it, right there on the side of a kansas dirt road, frogs chirping their own soundtrack to your unconventional love story.

the low fuel light dings onto the dash. the words vanish from your mouth, along with the courage you'd built up in your sated daze.

"how fast you think we can get to a gas station?" dean asks, the mischief evident in his voice, as he nips your earlobe between his teeth.

you sit up straighter in his lap, not even bothering to move yourself out of his lap, off of the half-hardness still buried inside of you. "let's find out."

the tires squeal as you peel out of your temporary parking spot, and you realize, then, that you don't really need to tell him how much you love him. not out loud. his arms slinking around your waist, cheek pressed to your skin and your dress low on your back, trusting you fully to drive his car, was love enough.

notes, the innocence is a virtue sequel i never planned on making but we all deserved. sorry if it's bad or incoherent it was actually supposed to be at least 1k shorter than this.

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[red-doll-face]

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

-

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

-

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,�� You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

-

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

-

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

-

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

-

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

-

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

[juletheghoul]

Ok I have an idea... I want to you pick all Pedro's characters or your favorite whatever you want and tell your opinion of who would pick boobs and who would pick ass in preference on a woman (I just saw this on Twitter about what men prefer and I think it would be fun to do with the Pedro's characters... Also if you want obviously you can add the other triple frontier boys 🫣).

OKOKOKOK 👀

Wait it's like you're in my head because this is something I've thought about A LOT. lol 💕 (I’ll get into the other triple frontier boys soon)

Okay let's get into it!

(adult subject matter under the cut, what can I tell you. 18+, I am using female pronouns for all of these)

Joel Miller; Tits. hands DOWN titties. I have thought this since before the show came out, this man is mesmerized by a set of tits and I will die on that hill. He is of the firm belief that all boobs are good boobs, and he cannot fall sleep without his hand up your shirt, full titty grab. You know those tiktoks where women flash their partners in the middle of an argument? That would absolutely work on Joel, he'd sigh, stare, lick his lips and then grunt a "now you're not playin' fair darlin'" *bonus - favourite position; being ridden so he has tits in his face.

Francisco Morales: Ass. Frankie is an ass-man through and through without a doubt. He's a grabber, he's the boyfriend / husband that can't help but give your ass a good crack every time he walks by and if you squeal he laughs and apologizes but says he cannot help it and then threatens to bite it. Every time he greets you, you can bet that his hand will creep down and get a big handful. *favourite position; doggy, because ass.

Marcus Pike: He gives me ass-man vibes. It's not to the extent of Frankie, but he can definitely appreciate a nice handful. He's been known to slip his hand down in the middle of a makeout sesh and get himself a good grip. We all know Marcus is a gentleman, but once he gets in the mood he's a bit rough, and that means you're going to get a bit bruised, manhandled. *favourite position; missionary, man is a romantic and wants to kiss.

Marcus Acacius: I genuinely don't think Marcus is partial to one more than the other, I think he just likes a woman's body. He loves tits, he loves the ass, he loves legs and pretty eyes and everything that comes along with the woman he's interested in. *favourite position; missionary, I think it just goes with the time.

Ezra: I think Ezra is a hedonist, and like Marcus A. he likes it all, but unlike him, Ezra is more feral about it. So when it's titty time? He's coming on them, he's rubbing it into your skin. When he's in an ass-mood? He's begging to come inside it, he's biting hard enough to leave the indents of his teeth. *favourite position; cowgirl, he wants to see you get wild, likes to watch shit bounce, likes to get wet.

Din Djarin: Ass-man. I think Din like how much he can grab at once, he likes how big his hands are. A lot of the time you're together, a lot of the time you're 'courting' you don't see much of him, so you end up getting bent over things and with that- comes a few spanks. *favourite position; honestly? whatever he can manage in the time you have.

Dieter Bravo: (on a woman, different obviously if he's dating a man, or a non-binary person) Tits. This man wants tits in his face at all times. Look at him, he'd motorboat you before leaving the house even if he's going to the store to grab a Diet Coke. No other notes, he just likes titties. *favourite position; 69, he wants it messy and intense.

Javier Peña: He's an ass-man, that big hand is reaching down to grab at a cheek whenever he's within arms reach. Javi is a biter, he likes to nip and get a squeal. A thong sends him into a frenzy, and if you're topless too? You're getting bent over the nearest surface. *favourite position; doggy, obviously.

Marcus Moreno: He gives me titty man, and secretly kind of obsessive about it. He can get a little intense, likes when you're really oversensitive, likes to bury his face in your cleavage, just loves tits. I don't think he could resist (what he would consider) a nice ass but tits are his favourite. *favourite position; I think he likes being ridden, likes to watch you move, and obviously titties bouncing.

Dave York: I'm not sure if it's an unpopular opinion but I've always thought of Dave as an ass-man. I think he loves to kiss, and slip his hand down and squeeze, but more than that - he'd slip his hand down a little further than is necessary, fingers slipping between the legs. He'd love the gasp, he'd love the widening of the eyes, he'd love to smile and press a soft kiss to your forehead after. *favourite position; I think the'd like the seashell (missionary but your legs are on his shoulders)

Jack (Whiskey): I think it depends on the day. Some days - when you're wearing something low cut - the tits cast a spell, he's all over them. Some days, it's all about the ass, full palm smacks and rough grabs. He's very versatile. *favourite position; cowgirl, either reverse or regular.

Oberyn Martell: Ass man, just hands down, those hands are all over it. He's a little more tender than the others I think, instead of smacks and rough grabs, it would be more of a soft but firm pulling you into his orbit. It's a gentle, but purposeful pulling off of your robes with soft kisses across your belly, and then on the swell of your ass. *favourite position; whichever one gets you pregnant faster.

Max Phillips: Max likes pussy, to be frank. Ass, tits, it's all good, they both have veins he can tap, before he taps. *favourite position; all of them.

Dio Morrisey: big titty goth girlfriend BIG TITTY GOTH GIRLFRIEND, baby bat likes titties, and I stand by that. No other notes, he likes titties, he likes cleavage, he wants them in and around his face at all times. *favourite position; I think Dio is a bit of a secret softie, he likes spooning sex in the morning, or at night, or after a nap, any time you're horizontal.

————

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[twistedpink]

Hello! Not an ask, just fangirl rambling (not sure if you're into that though.?)

In answer to your ''Lilia vs Idia x Reader anyone'' from a few days ago YES I AGREE we see tons of adeuce x reader and idia x azul x reader but never with Lilia and Idia?? Which makes no sense to me, there's so much potential there! Firstly Lilia and Idia's relationship is as incredibly funny as it is touching (on top of being the two best written characters in this game but I may be biased), secondly their personalities balance each other so well, and thirdly the scenarios possibilities - them not knowing they're online bff when reader becomes close friends with them both separately (Idia moping and judging at the same time cause you're hanging with the n°1 freaky extrovert, going ''yeah obviously you'd rather spend time with a charismatic hyper dude than me...'' and ''ugh you like this guy??'' at the same time. Meanwhile Lilia finds it endearing that you'd befriend such a socially awkward guy, but also, you have weird taste?) and then bring in romance and jealousy and they get worse. But then again, make them realize they're actually online bff!! And now reader can hang out with both of them at once, and do so many fun group activities (playing four players games with Ortho -grim canonically gets frustrated with controllers : ( going to premo concerts, to cons, perhaps even a cat or game cafe), Lilia would happily drag Idia out of his room, literally if needed, and Ortho would be ecstatic his brother has not one but two friends, gets out more and always ends up having a good time (on top of building confidence and trust in others)! And maybe even Lilia could get emotional growth out of it; if two people not from his found family keep telling him how awesome and loved he is perhaps he'd start internalizing it and value himself more? But also the bittersweet romantic tension in a bff trio! Uuugghh why does no one writes fic about them

Just consider the perfect imageries of their duo : SF and medieval fantasy! Otaku shut in and chaotic adhd hyper goth! Vampire-like dark fae weapon of war and literal god of the underworld (the goth dream)! The height difference! -and somehow a great deal of their clothes are the same size

also, the snark fest would be phenomenal with both their forces combined

YES my favourite part of the musclegloom dynamic is that this is their escape, and obviously they have no idea it’s just “that guy from class” bc even if they did get close it’s pretty wild to accuse someone that you’ve been playing RPGs together for an extended period of time. Imagine the TENSION when you get closer to them as indidviduals- peeling back the layers and going “hey! I used to play something exactly like this back home, can I sit in?” And bc they’re whipped they let you, but those gaming accounts are sacred!!! So Idia starts beginner friendly games w/ you and Lils just plays the stuff he likes on new accs. Imagine being with Idia on a new game (inching your way into his lap bc sue me it’s cold) WHILE getting spammed by Lilia. Your phone’s vibrating every couple seconds and Idia’s scowl just gets worse bc he knows exactly who it is. Even going as far to TRIPLE TEXT you (wowwww record breaking) next time you’re in diasomnia despite flaming your “baby-metal mob” for doing the same thing last week. The boys accidentally finding and WEARING each other’s stuff (Lilia does it on purpose- free is free) (Idia has one sided beef and Ortho restocks his closet anyways. He doesn’t know what belongs there on a good day)

+ This and FWB, Ids needs to become your boyfriend for his confidence and Lilia is a massive swinger no matter how possessive he gets. He has you when he needs to, AND the rush of stealing you away from someone??? You spoil him <3

[nordicfiord]

Do you have any other dynamics between the voices that you like,besides Cold and Contrarian?

Love your art,by the way,especially Contrarian!I love how soft and puffy he looks!

Ohhh, thanks for the question! And thanks for the kind words!! Have another Contrarian – he is pretty sure his friendship with anyone would be good!

it also would consist of bullying half the time but if everyone is content that it can lead to some of the best friendships out there!

And now… IT’S RUMBLING TIME!!

tldr: I am semi-interested in most dynamics, but am currently obsessed with just one. Crossovers and AUs make dynamics more fun for me to think about because of backgrounds.

So! Voices, huh? What a wild bunch.

I love those little guys. I love that mostly here at the stp fandom we are just interpreting them through our own lenses of understanding – through our own perspectives. It is very fitting, and it allows all of us to view these dynamics in many, many different situations.

Honestly, my brain is a mess. It is a giant cauldron, where everything at once is boiling and twisting and turning. That’s why everything is mixing up into lots of crossovers and weird ideas. 

Can I say that I like voices dynamics in canon? Sure! I like that one Adv-Fury route with Stubborn and Contrarian having the “I may not have a brain, gentlemen, but I have an idea” moment. I like that Hero tried to stand up for us in Cage and Paranoid helped Skeptic to insist on his solution by “physically” restraining him?? What a power move. Pretty much every interaction between voices is something interesting to think about, honestly.

But, uhh…

My brain just chose two random clowns and said “Them. I wanna rotate them.”

Honestly I don’t even know why he (my brain) did it. Maybe he just projected my favourite dynamic (clown and clown enabler). But I like other dynamics too??? Why not them???

Genuinely don’t know.

BUT!

Remember I talked about AUs, crossovers and stuff? Those are bigger dollhouses for my brain. There he can assign some dynamics to characters and watch them unfold.

Examples? Sure!

Skeptic being “the mom friend”. Originally it went from the need to have anyone that could control ContraColdChaos. But when I thought about putting voices in my old Steven Universe AU (I will talk about it here I swear it is just too much to unpack….), it all just made so much more sense. Because there Skeptic was the one responsible for revolution and leaving their home world, ended up on an unknown planet with some very troubled teammates (traumatised disabled leader, “I-died-so-many-times-I-can’t-be-stable” general, repeated killer of said general, army refugee and a high-quality spy) and he HAD to take responsibility and make sure nobody dies. Also that created a very interesting dynamic with Hero, because Hero is basically a young abused ruler who doesn’t believe he has any autonomy… and here Skeptic is, his subordinate, who literally is making all the decisions. Like, it’s clear that Skeptic cares and wants the best for Hero… but he is pretty much adding to a family emotional neglect.

And there’s more. Opportunist feeling like he owes Smitten for saving his life. Cold and Skeptic trying to process that they’ve killed and revived the very same person. Smitten being this person and trying to live a normal life with his murderer and resurrector in the same home.

I guess I just… Can’t operate inside of the canon universe with the little outside influence there is?

Maybe in my head-universe, when TLQ left, he left the voices a big fun playground, where they can put various masks and play many, many different stories. They need something to occupy their “forever” too, after all.

Anyway thanks if you’ve read this far!! I appreciate it, really. Sorry if it’s not uhh… organized? Like I said, my mind really is a mess, haha.

Have a nice day everyday!~

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"Look at me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for Benjy"

There it was. Sirius avoided Remus's eyes when he was asked the question. After almost three years of relationship, Remus knew his boyfriend very well.

"You are going to start with your insecurities and jealousy again?" Sirius tusked, looking at the floor. "Give me a break, Remus"

It wasn't fair. Because Remus knew very well what was going on. He knew Sirius fancied Benjy because of the way he looked at him. Not quite like the eyes of love the he used to look at Remus with, but quite similar. The way he talked about him all the time. The way he smiled to himself when Benjy said something nice about him. The way he blushed when Benjy gave him a kiss on the cheek. Their complicity. Their love for art. Their similar chaotic persolities. Their love for partying.

Benjy Fenwick was Sirius’s classmate in Art School. After traveling across the world for two years, he had decided to stay in London and try with Art. Just because. Just because he was an asshole with luck and money.

Remus never liked him. Nor James or Lily. He didn't get along with the rest of their friends. It was as if he was obsessed with Sirius. He acted like Sirius’s long time best friend, which pissed James off. And like Sirius’s lover which pissed off Remus.

It didn't matter what Sirius said and how many times he denied it. He had a crush on Benjy.

At Hogwarts Remus had bared Sirius’s girls because he hadn't figured out he was queer and he was trying to hide it. But this was different.

It wasn't that their relationship was dying and Sirius didn't love Remus anymore. But Remus knew his Padfoot was enamored with the thrilling life that Benjy offered him. He wanted to feel young and pretty, and have fun. He wanted attention and adrenaline. He wanted adventure and trying new things.

Remus with his poor librarian salary and his calm routine, his introvertion and his shyness, could never give him that.

"Don't tell me I'm being crazy because it is not fair"

Right now, after months and months of playing dumb, telling friends he didn't mind and crying in his room while Sirius was out at some party without him, Remus had decided he couldn't take it anymore.

"I know you are angry because I overreacted last night... And the other night when I got drunk..."

"Yeah you were very mean with Benjy" Sirius whispered "You always treat him like shit..."

"Sirius..." Remus interrupted, his eyes filling up with tears "I need for you to be honest with me. I swear I can take the truth... But please be honest"

Sirius shook his head and shrugged "I'm being honest you just don't believe me"

Remus ignored him.

"You and I, we used to be inseparable..." Remus cried. And he could see tears on Sirius’s eyes as well. His lovely gray eyes "And we were really in love, weren't we?" Remus showed him his wrist tattoo. A little star with a P for Padfoot. "This is one proof" Sirius unconsciously touched his. A little moon with a M for Moony.

Remus shook away the memory of how happy Sirius was when he convinced Remus to get them.

"Our flat..." Remus said, looking around "Our things that we gathered together... There is a lot of proof that we loved each other..."

"Why do you use past tense?" Sirius intervened with tears falling through his cheeks "I still love you"

"I know" Remus said "But now Benjy is in your life..."

Sirius got uncomfortable.

"Benjy with his adventures and exciting plans each week... With his knowledge of bars and pubs and his funny stories about other times he's been there..."

"I don't know why that bothers you so much..."

"Pads... Sirius" Remus took a deep breath and wiped away his tears "Maybe it is all me and my crazy thoughts in my stupid head... But maybe it is you as well..."

Remus looked into Sirius’s eyes. At least tried. When he couldn't, he forced him to look at him by grabbing his chin. Delicately of course.

When Sirius’s eyes fixed on his, they were covered with tears once more.

"Please tell me what you feel. What is going on with you" Remus said "The truth"

Sirius pushed Remus away to compose himself. He cleaned the tears away and sniffed. Then he was quiet for a while.

Remus let him think without crying or pressuring him. He waited patiently for his response. In the meantime he prepared himself for the pain. For whatever Sirius would tell him.

Then Sirius looked up ready.

"You are right, Remus" Remus was surprised how sure he sounded. It meant he was going to say the truth not get nervous and hesitant while lying "I have feelings for Benjy... What I feel for him..." a pause in which Remus didn't even breathe "Is something that I can't control"

Remus felt as if someone was sticking a knife through his heart. Even if he already knew this. He had been preparing himself for this. It still hurt. It hurt like nothing else had hurt him. He felt the tears coming but he swallowed them and tried to be strong. He couldn't crumble down. That would be pathetic. That's what Lily had told him at least. "Have some dignity, Remus! You can live blindly like this forever"

"It's alright" Remus said, voice breaking "I understand. That's what I wanted to know"

"But I love you" Sirius tried grabbing his hands "I still love you..."

Remus dropped his hands.

"I never have and never will cheat on you, though"

"I know" Remus nodded and cried.

"Benjy just makes me feel alive..."

Please stop! Remus thought. But it wouldn't be fair because he had asked for the truth, hadn't he?

"He makes me feel young and pretty" Sirius continued "And I love you but I feel stuck with you and your jealousy and insecurities.. I don't want to explain everything I do. I just want to live!"

Sirius used to love Remus with his boring life, and bad posture, and books and cigarettes. It was Sirius who pushed him to do crazy things. That was how it worked. Or it used to work before Benjy.

"If that's the case," Remus replied "We know what we need to do"

"Remus... Are you breaking up with me?"

Seeing Sirius cry broke Remus's heart even more.

"I cannot share you. I can't and I don't want to"

As selfish as it sounded. Sirius used to be his, now it hurt not having all to himself anymore.

"Okay then" Sirius looked away to hide his tears.

Now Sirius was the one who was hurt? How ironic.

Remus was dying inside.

"I'm gonna pack my things then"

"You don't have to go" Sirius whispered under his breath.

"This is your flat anyway, your Uncle gave it to you"

Sirius didn't stop him. He hid his face between his knees.

Remus thought that he wasn't able to comfort Sirius anymore. He wasn’t able to touch him, kiss him, hug him. Never again.

His own body even ached in pain at the thought of it.

Remus got up from the spot he was sitting on the floor, and ran to the room. Their room.

He won't be sleeping in that bed anymore. He won't see Sirius waking up so beautiful in the morning.

And seeing all their things mixed up together, with not even a difference between Sirius’s things and Remus's things, made Remus crumble down.

How the hell he was going to pack now?

Instead he started crying, then sobbing, then yelling in pain. And he didn't care anymore if Sirius was in the other room. He didn't care about his dignity and honor.

And Sirius had noticed Remus's desperate cries. But he reckoned he couldn't do anything about it anymore.

Beg him to stay together? For what? The memory and nostalgia of what they used to be? How much they had loved each other?

Sirius silently cried as well.

[dailyfigures]

im still a minor and im kinda of scared about moving out for like college on my own because idk if ill be able to keep my spending habits in check.... like right now i still have my parents so i dont buy as much but im scared that once im on my own i will spend lots and lots of money. sorry to ask like this but do you maybe have a word of advice as someone that went through something similar? its fine if you dont and thank you ♡

i understand and i do sadly have to say that is what tripped me up. my addiction started when i turned 18 and all my savings, my parents' savings for me and everything was transferred to me. i was also going through a really difficult time and i had pretty much nothing to keep me going. not a great combo!

more than anything i'd say mental health is the basis of any addiction. if your mental health is low, you will be more desperate for the spike of happy brain chemicals that purchasing things causes. if you're overal content/happy in your daily life, those spikes won't be worth nearly as much to you.

i would recommend for you to work on your mental health the best you can! if possible i'd recommend therapy to help you out. self care is very important, it's a lot harder to feel good on 3 hours of sleep with greasy hair and half a cracker in your stomach.

if you have a family member or friend who you trust, ask them to help you budget! they can help you figure out how much you should save and how much fun spending money you'll have each month. money tracking apps can help a lot too. i downloaded one a while back during a phase where i was getting a few too many little treats and drinks and i needed to have a visual overview of the percentages i was spending on treats, bills, fun, etc.

i currently just use different "jars"/side accounts in my bank account app. i have one for the savings my dear parents saved for me for college or an apartment or something if this fuckass economy ever allows it (i do not touch these savings), my own savings from my salary (the goal is to grow these savings however i do touch them so that's not successful every month) and just my paying account (when i get my salary i leave a few hundreds in here and the rest goes into my own savings account). not sure whether everyone's bank apps have these options but that's just my current situation!

long story short; take care of yourself and your mental health and you won't be as vulnerable to addiction! don't be afraid to ask for help, now or later. if you ever notice that things might not be going too well financially, take action IMMEDIATELY! do not wait until you have a full blown addiction, tell your parents you're struggling with managing your money and ask if they can keep your savings safe on their accounts. go to therapy if possible. you are never alone! be kind to yourself and you will be fine!

[weevmo]

Hello! So i’ve recently become a little fan of yours from your small, silly tadc comics and im just wondering how you come up with them and generally just how you make them (like how you set up scenes and what not lol). I’m pretty new to procreate and digital art as a whole and wanted some little tips since i’ve sort of hit a wall with trying to make comics digitally.

thanks for reading my dumb little thing ✌���

Hey hey!!

I'm so glad you've enjoyed the comics - Oh boy so -

How I come up with them: Most of the time I have a central idea I want to explore like 'What If Caine had the Players go through a Grueling Medieval Adventure with a Promise of a REWARD, but the Reward is literally the thing they want least (Princess Caine smooches, anyone?') or 'What if Ragatha was the one to do something Really Bad (descriptive, right?) because It's hard to imagine she, out of everyone there, ever would' .

Most start out super loosely, not super planned out, and with a rough bit of dialogue written down (Not for the Princess Caine one...and you can tell, the dialogue is repetitive and meh, I came up with on the spot lmfao)

As for setting up scenes: Most of the time I very roughly plot out each page/panel/ 'scene', trying to figure out the angle that will give me the emotion I'd like to portray most.

Something as simple as this, I meant to evoke a sort of 'tired, long journey come to a close' sort of vibe with a flat distance shot without detail and sleepy coloration. Almost cozy idk

I purposefully left out Ragatha's facial expressions here and foreword to give a bit of unease in her decision, and angled shots down at Jax to give the impression that he's not in charge here. For once he needs her help. (there's no way he couldn't have climbed that himself tho asdjhdlsdh)

I aLSO only put detail into panels where I wanted to evoke the most feeling. Some panels took literally 5 mins, others a lot longer. Pick your battles!

Not great examples? But both of these I made pretty quickly without too much plotting - just a 'strong' central idea I wanted to explore. I hope that gets the idea across!

Honestly I almost didn't post the Ragatha and Jax one - didn't like how it came out! But I did anyways and most seem to enjoy it, even if it's highly non-canon and a little iffy. (I also didn't plan each 'scene' out, just doodled only enough pictures to get the idea across, it could have benefitted from more but...eh.)

I'd say just GO FOR IT when it comes to comics! Try to get a strong idea or emotion across, it doesn't have to be a super detailed or long comic. Don't worry about how people take it, people have different opinions. The important thing is you learn with every page you post! Look at lots o' references, or just explode colors and shapes over the page (A healthy mix of both, perhaps); sounds lame but most importantly make sure YOU are having fun with this!

I hope this was helpful ! - I should dig up the playback of making the Jax and Rag comic.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

I had my first Pepsi since getting sick today and I think i got a bit carried away

The Ralsei in the bottom right is from the comic Looking Glasses by @ferronickel, you should check it out if you haven't yet ^-^ ((sorry for the tag at two in the morning haha))

edit: whoops forgot to link the comic

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pictures and things

[bumblingbabooshka]

'Parturition' is so brave for being the yaoi ship trope episode of Voyager. "Neelix and Tom Paris had a physical.....fight." Also continuing Tom's beautiful habit of loving both infidelity and child abandonment with all his heart. Also, wonderful out of context quote: "I had no right to push that pasta in your lap."

[widevibratobitch]

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[creature-once-removed]

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[alltimefail-sims]

Maaaaan I typed up this kinda long ass post about the aesthetic conversation; not that I think anyone would particularly care about what *I* have to say on the subject, but I digress. I'll just mind my business 😂

[funsizedcrow]

Quick sunset studies, trying to practice backgrounds and colors more :)

Original photos under the cut, taken by me while on vacation w my family this month