#involving a bearded cowboy

[memphis-menace]

New art coming soon 👀

#hopefully this afternoon #involving a bearded cowboy #menace babbles

[zoewrites]

Your Price (Joel Miller x F!Reader) 18+

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, alcohol, prostitution, dirty talk, daddy kink, pet names, rough blowjobs, cumplay, grinding, overstimulation, size kink, creampie, unprotected sex, negative attitude towards sex work, rude grumpy joel

Wordcount: 4k

Even from a distance, you could sense the ever-present air of grumpiness that exuded from Joel Miller’s being. And it made your heart beat faster. He sat alone at the bar, his narrowed eyes fixed on the glass of whiskey in his hand. He only ever raised his head to flag down the bartender for more. 

Since his arrival in the community last month, you’d heard plenty of gossip about the man. That he was a dangerous smuggler, having committed unspeakable acts of violence - and not just for survival-

And that he was cold to even those who had reached out and tried to help him settle in-

 And that he seemed to revel in his reputation as a tough, unapproachable man, only ever softening for that daughter who “wasn’t actually his daughter.”

“Ungrateful son of a bitch,” Your friend had described him in a huff after a particularly unpleasant encounter down at the stables, “He’s damn lucky that Tommy is his brother…”

But all the rumors did was fuel your curiosity and crush. There was an undeniable allure about the mysterious older man. The combination of his rugged looks and the intimidating energy surrounding him made him undeniably attractive to you, drawing you in despite the barriers he put up. On the third fill of his glass, you decided it was your chance to approach him. 

You sauntered over across the busy saloon, taking a seat beside him. Not a shred of acknowledgment upon his face as you cleared your throat, leaning in slightly. 

“Hey cowboy,” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, letting it fuel your determination.

Joel turned his head to glance at you, his eyebrow raised but his expression remained guarded. 

“Mind if I-”

“M’not interested.” His low voice shut you down and he turned back to his whiskey.

You felt a pang of frustration at his immediate dismissal. But you also felt another kind of pang, one that settled deep down within you as you finally got a close-up look at the man. His features were weathered, with grey patches in his beard and lines of experience framing his eyes. It made you wonder what all he had seen out beyond the walls of Jackson where you’d spent most of your life.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” You maintained your composure, smirking at him.

“I know who y’are, what you do,” He grumbled, still not facing you.

“Do you?” You questioned, curious as to what exactly he knew. It was true you had a bit of an… “arrangement” going on with some of the men in the community. You were a pretty girl who liked attention, and in a town where bartering was the new monetary medium, what was wrong with receiving a little… “compensation” for your time? You had no shame, it was a win-win for all involved.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his jaw clenched even more and his thumb and index finger met the bridge of his nose, sighing in annoyance.

“Long day?” Not one to give up easily, you egged him on.

“Long week. S’Why I’m here. Trying to relax.” He punctuated the end of his sentence by setting the glass down and glaring at you. 

“And how is that working out for you?” He watched as you swiveled your bar stool towards his, stretching your long legs out and crossing one over the other, giving him your full attention. The way his eyes flickered to the exposed skin on your thigh where your dress rode up didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it ignited something in you.

“Was workin’ real nicely till you interrupted.” You were indeed beginning to understand why he was so disliked.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because you were lookin’ real lonely over here to me.”

Joel scoffed.

“But maybe I could help you.”

“Help?” He frowned.

“With relaxing,” You teased, leaning in a little closer, “I’m good at that kind of thing.”

You maintained his eye contact as you slowly wrapped your lips around the straw of your cocktail. You swore you could see redness bloom on the apples of his cheeks when he shook his head. The craving was building, you wanted to see this man come undone.

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He murmured under his breath, almost too quiet for you to hear over the rowdy Friday night crowd.

You shrugged innocently, turning your stool back to face the bar. You began to wonder if he really was as impossible to crack as everyone said. But he was still sitting so close that you could feel his body heat against your right side. And you could smell the leather of his worn jacket. You swallowed hard as the two of you sat in silence. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and give up for the night, he cleared his throat.

“How much?” Joel asked quietly and you felt your eyes narrow in disbelief, surely you’d misheard him.

“Hm?” 

“Your price.” Oh? Oh. Your heart slammed against the walls of your chest.

“Oh really?” You couldn’t control the teasing grin that spread across your face, you had Joel Miller right where you wanted him, “Now you’re interested?”

“Forget it,” He muttered and went to stand.

“Hey, wait,” You reached for his arm, eyes shining bright with delight, “Yours or mine?”

--

You passed by Joel’s home most days on your walks to the greenhouse or the stables. You'd always hoped to catch a glimpse of him out on the porch, sometimes talking with Ellie, sometimes strumming a guitar. Though you’d never spoken to either, it always felt like you were being let in on a little secret, getting to see just a glimpse of who Joel was underneath that cold exterior.

And now here you were, standing on that very porch, following him inside. It was tidy aside from a few pairs of boots and some comic books strewn about. Better than you were expecting for a single father and a teenager.

“Your kid out for the night?” You'd asked, letting your fingers dance across the mantle of the fireplace, eyeing a drawing she must’ve done for him. It suddenly felt so intimate, being let into his private world.

Joel shot you a look that said ‘of course she is.' That he was offended you would ever even consider the possibility of him bringing you here if she wasn’t out. He made it clear he didn’t have you over to simply ogle the ornaments on the shelves.

 After locking the door, he stood at the entrance, looking down and fidgeting with his gloved hands. You began to wonder if he was nervous. What a sight, the gruff and tough Joel Miller…. timid in your presence.

“Well…” He began and then trailed off. 

“Well…” You repeated and stood behind the couch, letting your hands rest on the backing as you leaned forward, giving him a full view of your cleavage in the low-cut dress another man had gifted you.

“Dunno how this usually goes…” He admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging his jacket off, leaving him in that wrinkly plaid button-up, “D’you uh-”

“We can do whatever you want,” You assured him, giggling at his sudden apprehension, “Come sit.” 

He ambled over, a little confused as to why you were still standing behind him until he felt your hands move over his shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles. You applied a gentle pressure, digging in with your palms, and he couldn’t help but let his head fall forward as you worked.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” You whispered against his ear, fighting the temptation to bite at it, and all he could do was groan, “Let me help.”

As you progressed, kneading at his flesh through the faded fabric, you could feel his muscles gradually loosen and his breathing become deeper. Slower. You wondered when the last time, if ever, he’d been touched like this. When was the last time he had someone help ease the ache, helped bring him some peace? He made a sudden noise that pulled you out of your thoughts.

“There.” He sighed as your fingers worked in circular motions at the base of his neck.

“Here?” You smiled, pushing harder, and the sound his throat made sent a flood of heat throughout your entire body. His deep moans had you tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to ignore the hot throbbing between your legs. “See I knew you just needed someone to help you relax.”

You could practically feel the pain and frustration leaving his body as his large hand covered your own, pausing your movements.

“Sit with me.” Joel’s voice was husky, the deepest you’d heard it tonight. He let out a heavy exhale when your hands left his body and you rounded the couch to straddle him. His thighs were strong and sturdy beneath you, giving you a nice seat. 

His large hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, and you let your own hands trail up his solid chest and into his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy wisps of gray. Finally, they wrapped behind his neck and you pushed your lips to his.

It started slowly, a little hesitant on his part until you reached down to guide one of those large hands on your lower back down to your ass. Then it was more. 

You never enjoyed the taste of whiskey until you tasted it on the tongue he had inside your mouth. He groaned, low in his throat, and it made your head spin. His hands squeezed at you through the fabric of your short dress and you pressed yourself closer, feeling him harden beneath you. You kissed him deeply then, sliding a hand lower as you did. Your tongue dipped into his mouth at the same time you curved your fingers over the shape of his cock, feeling the swell of it under his jeans.

When you pulled away breathlessly, Joel chased you with his mouth until you were too far out of reach, slinking down to your knees. You gazed up at the entirety of him, at the hard rise and fall of his chest, at the way his glossy eyes stared you down as you made quick work of his belt.

“Starting to feel bett-” Your taunt was cut short by the surprise of his thumb in your mouth. One of those large hands slid down his thigh and up the side of your face, pressing his thumb inside, the pad of it resting on your bottom row of teeth. He pushed down and forced your mouth open. You trembled at his sudden dominance and the vulnerability of it, feeling your pussy grow wetter and wetter. You were glad you were already on your knees because your thighs shook and his pupils blew wider.

Joel’s other hand met your face, framing your cheek. He slid the roughness of his fingertips down against the shape of your lips before pressing another thumb inside your drooling mouth. His eyes grew darker and he leaned in like he was inspecting you. He then pushed both thumbs down on your tongue, pushing back until you gagged.

“Gotta make sure there’s enough room in there for me, baby.” 

You whimpered as he pulled your mouth wide.

“But you take cocks all the time in here, don’t you? Bet you’re a pro by now, huh?”

He let you go, giving you a chance to catch your shaky breath. 

“Does that bother you?” You hissed, playing into it, “That this is what I like to do?”

“That you like bein’ a slut?” Your heart pounded at his words. You’d heard it all before but never the way Joel said it.

You answered by eagerly reaching back out for his hands that had gone back to resting on his thighs. You pulled both thumbs back into your mouth and sucked. You swirled your tongue around them, getting nice and sloppy, letting your drool run down onto his wrists, giving him a show of how good it felt to have something big and solid in your mouth. He let you have your fun for a moment until he was pulling them out again and you couldn’t help but whine. 

“Fuckin’ needy girl,” He groaned under his breath as he rubbed your spit over your lips, playing with them until you were absolutely aching to have him down your throat. Your trembling hands traveled to the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down. The noise he made when you finally got a hand around his thickness was guttural and you wanted to hear more. Fuck, you knew he’d be big. You stroked him slowly, wanting him to ache just as badly for it as you were. It was already so hard, the head wept with pre-cum as you fisted him the way you knew men liked.

You hated to let go but you needed him to use you right fucking now. You rested your hands on your knees and parted your swollen lips, presenting your face for him to take. Joel slapped the tip against your mouth. You tried to lick out at it but he pulled away, smirking when you whined in complaint.

“Please,” Your eyes squeezed shut, your cheeks burned in embarrassment when you realized how quickly he had you beneath him, yearning for a taste of his cock. But god, this was precisely what you’d been craving since the moment you'd seen Tommy going around and introducing him that very first day.

 “You gonna beg for it, sweetheart?” He held what you desperately wanted in his hand, just barely out of reach, teasing you so meanly. Want quickly squashed any embarrassment and you didn’t care how pathetic it made you sound when you mewled out for it.

“Yes,” Your voice was meek, “Daddy, please let me suck your cock.”

His eyebrows raised, “Daddy, huh?” He brought his cock back down your face, smearing pre-cum down your chin, “Ya call ‘em all that?”

You shook your head fervently. And it was the truth. None of your usual encounters had ever had you this strung out before they even started fucking you, none that you would’ve ever even considered calling “daddy.” None of them ever had you on the verge of tears with need like this.

“Say it again,” He ordered and you could actually feel the arousal dripping.

“Daddy,” You moaned sweetly and something in him broke. All hesitancy, all the apprehension within him was gone. He finally rewarded you as he thrust inside your mouth. You heard him hiss above you as your lips wrapped around him. God, he was so big. Bigger than you’d taken before. But as you’d made clear by the events of tonight, you loved a challenge. You moved your hands to curl around the back of his calves, holding yourself steady as he pressed deeper inside. 

"Shit," He cursed, "Fuckin' look at ya, such a pretty little cockslut.” Saliva dripped down your chin and all you could do was take it as he started fucking your face in earnest.

You were gagging but it only made him go faster, his fingers thread through your hair to pull you back and forth. The noises you were making were depraved and you’d be surprised if you weren’t dripping onto the wood floor beneath you with how wet you were. He used you like a toy, barely able to breathe, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you tried your hardest because the sight of him looking down on you in awe as you took all of him, calling you a whore… it was beautiful.

He lost himself in it, throwing his head back, making those delicious noises. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he pulled you in hard one last time, holding you right there, pressed up against his base. You forced yourself to breathe through your nose, to not break, to surrender to him as his cock pulsed against the back of your throat.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time he’d finished ruining you and pulled out. The filthy choking sob you gave when he did set him over the edge, releasing ropes of cum over your tongue and chin. 

“Daddy too big for you, baby?” Joel groaned, sounding wickedly amused as you gasped, attempting to regulate your breathing. He pulled you back up into his lap and you crumpled against him. He brushed stray hair from your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing something about being a good slut. He wiped his cum from your face, holding it to your lips for you to lick from his fingers. His cock twitched again as he watched how desperate you were despite being this wrecked already.

“Y’alright girl?”

“More,” Your throat was burning so your plea came out as a weak, hoarse whisper. Your thighs rubbed together unconsciously, the throbbing was almost unbearable at this point and he knew it. 

“More?” His laugh quickly turned to a groan as you gathered the strength to pull your sopping panties to the side and shifted in his lap, dragging your hot pussy against the length of his shaft. Your clit ached from the friction and you slid an arm around his neck to give yourself the leverage to start rocking your body back and forth on top of him.

“This pussy’s fucking starved baby, thought this whore would be satisfied, taking cock on the regular.” He tutted. “S’fuckin’ crying for it.”

A loud wail tore out of you as you increased the pace, about to cum before he ever even got inside you. But he stopped. Hands at your waist, halting you just before you reach your peak and your pussy clenched hard around nothing.

“Joel, no…” Your head fell in despair, too far gone to care about anything but needing to cum. He lifted and situated you above the head of his thick cock. ‘Yes, yes, yes’ is all you could think as you realized what he was doing.

You both gasped, mouths against each other, stealing each other’s breath as you sank down onto him. You took every last delicious inch, letting it stretch you until you were fully seated on him. 

You couldn’t control the tears that ran down your face from how fucking full, how fucking good it felt having him breach the deepest part of your cunt. Your mind went fuzzy when you looked down to see where you were joined, seeing how his slick cock split you open. 

“Look at you, baby,” Joel mocked you when he saw the way your mouth gaped open, “this what you needed? For me to fuck you stupid?” 

“Daddy,” You babbled, fluttering all around him as he held you down still, molding your insides to his shape, “P-please, please, please.”

“Fuck yourself on me, use it, baby, let daddy see you cum.” He growled, his southern accent so deep, “Show me how pretty you and this pussy are when you cum. Must be good, the way you’ve got all these men lining up to share ya.”

A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when his hands finally released you, letting you move. They went to lift your dress up over your head, exposing your bouncing tits for him. 

With your nails scratching sharply into his neck and shoulder, you raised then lowered yourself again and again and again. The obscene squelching sound and his glazed eyes on your tits brought you right to the edge once again.

“There you go,” his fingers dug hard into your hips to help you move once your thighs started shaking uncontrollably.

“Joelllllll,” You hiccuped, bouncing yourself harder and harder, chasing what you needed.

“Thought I was daddy,” He panted, his hands moved back to your ass and he gripped at you, slamming you down on his cock.

"D-daddy- fuck! Fuck!" You held onto him for dear life, your muscles turned to jelly as he thrust into your weeping pussy, letting him take over fully, just like he did to your mouth. 

Then your cries went silent, mouth went slack, breath ragged. You came hard around his cock, harder than ever before, squeezing him until he was gasping against your lips. You swore you could hear him whimpering before you could only hear your ears ringing. Your entire body shuddered with white-hot pleasure. 

“Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me,” You chanted through the aftershocks as he continued to rut into you, so fucked out of it you couldn’t even hear your own voice, “D-daddy, please, please, please...”

And then he was filling you, hips bucked up and cumming hard until he physically couldn’t anymore. He was at your ear, desperately moaning for you as you twitched around him, squeezing him, “Nghhhhh… hah, fuck, baby.”

His skin was burning, his eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched, pulsing so hard in your cunt, overstimulating you almost to the point of pain. Almost. 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, this pussy…” He gasped, equally as overwhelmed as you felt when he slid out.

“Oh my god,” You held onto him tight, your bare tits pressed up against his still-clothed chest, just breathing him in as you attempted to calm yourself. 

“Let me see it,” He exhaled heavily.

“Hmm?” You shook, face buried into his neck, feeling his sweat on your cheek. 

“Need to see it leaking out. Show me.” He rasped.

You whimpered at his order when you realized what he wanted. He didn’t give you any time to regain your strength, he simply flipped you over the arm of the couch. He groaned as you bent yourself over the edge, widening your legs to give him a full show of just how good he’d fucked you.

“Spread yourself for me, baby.” He breathed, his chest still heaving.

You did as he said, your hand reached underneath you, spreading your lips apart. You keened at the feeling, so overstimulated that you could barely handle your own delicate touch. His eyes followed the cum dribbling out of you and down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s it, just like that.” Joel watched as he pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt. He reached out, sliding a hand down your lower back, making sure you stayed just how he wanted. You felt so incredibly naked in front of him like this.

“Fuck… can’t believe I just came in you… fuck,” He groaned as realization dawned on him. The spell broken.

“M’clean,” You moaned, head still fuzzy, “n’safe, I swear.”

He just sighed. 

“Joel, I promise. I never let them do this.” You tried to move but his hand held you in place. You didn’t know if he believed you or not but it was true. It was your rule. You were always safe. Your heart pounded at the thought of how different it had been with Joel, how easy it had been for him to take full control of you. Breaking your rules without him even realizing it. You didn’t regret it one bit though. And you hoped desperately that he didn’t either.

Joel didn’t reply, only asking what he owed you. You almost forgot what the hell he was talking about.

“Don’t worry about it,” You sighed as he let you back up, stretching in exhaustion. There you went breaking another rule. They always paid you. But with Joel, it felt like you should be the one paying him.

“Tell me what I owe you,” His features hardened.

“Joel, I-...” You were taken aback by his quick shift, “It’s fine. I wanted this, you don’t have to-”

“That’s not…,” He ran an exasperated hand through the tousled hair you’d just had your own hands in, “I wouldn’t have done this, otherwise.”

You wiped at your thighs with your discarded panties as you tried to make sense of his frustration, the dizziness still in your brain making it difficult. You wondered if you should feel insulted by his statement.

“Jesus, it’s not a big deal,” You pulled your dress back over yourself before facing him, “Get something from the Outfitters or whatever. I don’t care.”

“You should leave. I’ll get you your payment but you need to go now,” He backed away from you, avoiding your eyes. 

Before you could begin to try to wrap your mind around what had just happened, the sound of the front door being unlocked had both of your heads shooting up in time to see Ellie.

“Joel! I forgot-” The girl stopped hard in her tracks as she took in the scene of you and Joel standing awkwardly in the living room. It was silent between the three of you as she made no attempt to hide the way she was staring you down. Your face warmed again as you mentally thanked whatever God was out there that she hadn’t entered a minute earlier.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ellie turned to Joel, her brow furrowed.

“Ellie,” He scolded her language but failed to attempt any lie about who you were or what was going on. And you took this as your cue to escape because you had nothing to offer.

“Yeah…I’ll, uh, see ya,” You grabbed your bag off the coffee table and it took everything in you to walk and not sprint out the door.

#joel miller x reader #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller daddy #filth #smut

[cherryrainn]

cuddle headcanons with our beloved cole cassidy, hanzo shimada, and junkrat!

OKAYYYYY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— cuddle chronicles

cuddle headcanons with cassidy, hanzo and junkrat.

COLE CASSIDY ♡

when cuddling with cassidy, you'd find yourself enveloped in his strong arms, feeling his warmth and the sense of security he exudes.

he might pull you closer, as if shielding you from the world, his calm presence making you feel safe.

cassidy can be quite playful with those he's close to. while cuddling, he might crack a joke or make a lighthearted remark, his signature cowboy charm shining through.

his calloused fingers would trace patterns on your back, their roughness contrasting with his gentle touch. it's as if he's silently reassuring you that he's there.

cassidy's occasional cocky attitude might manifest even during cuddle time. he might smirk and playfully boast about how he's 'the best cuddler in the west', all while squeezing you closer to him.

he might rest his chin on top of your head, his beard tickling your forehead.

just like he treats his weapons with care, cassidy treats you with gentleness and respect during cuddles.

cassidy might tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. his scarred eye holds a softness that's reserved only for you, and in that moment, you feel truly cherished.

tough cowboy on the outside, softie on the inside.

"you know you're stuck with me now, right?"

HANZO SHIMADA ♡

hanzo's serious and introspective nature might extend to cuddling as well.

he's not one to initiate cuddles readily, but when he does, it's a significant gesture.

his cuddles are filled with warmth and security, a quiet way of showing how much he cares for you.

due to his reserved personality, hanzo prefers cuddling in more private settings. whether it's a quiet evening at home or a serene spot outdoors, he feels most at ease when it's just the two of you.

hanzo's strong arms provide a sense of protection as he holds you close. you can feel his muscles tense and relax as he adjusts his hold, making sure you're as comfortable as possible.

his touch is gentle yet firm, reflecting his disciplined nature.

hanzo's company is soothing, even if he doesn't say much. often, his cuddles are accompanied by a comfortable silence. the two of you might watch the sunset or simply listen to the sounds of nature, the silence speaking volumes about your connection.

hanzo's preference might be to lay down together, side by side. he'll often pull you close, your head resting on his chest, and he'll wrap his arm around you. feeling the steady beat of his heart and his rhythmic breathing can be incredibly calming.

hanzo might unconsciously run his fingers through your hair as you cuddle, a soothing and comforting gesture.

"thank you for being the unexpected light in my life."

JUNKRAT ♡

junkrat's not the typical cuddler, but he has his moments. cuddling with him might involve a tangle of limbs and explosions-themed plushies strewn about. he might grumble about it being too sappy, but his mischievous glint betrays his enjoyment.

despite his wild exterior, junkrat gives surprisingly warm hugs. he might not admit it, but his tight grip and genuine smile show he values physical closeness.

he'd create a cozy corner in his hideout for cuddling. piled high with pillows and blankets, it's an explosion-free zone where you both can unwind.

for all his bluster, junkrat can be surprisingly cautious with his touches. he'd hover his hand over your shoulder before committing to the cuddle, almost as if he's not sure how you'll react.

he'd absentmindedly play with your hair, fascinated by its texture and colors. his fingers are deft, his touch gentle despite his typically explosive nature.

junkrat's cuddles are accompanied by his distinctive laughter, which often manages to light up the room even more than his explosive devices.

while cuddling, he might tell you silly stories.

if he's awake during the night, he'd keep watch over you while you sleep. his protective side shows as he softly brushes his fingers across your cheek.

every now and then, you catch him in quieter moments of introspection, and he pulls you in for a cuddle that's surprisingly tender.

"don't think i've gone all mushy on ya now."

#overwatch #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #junkrat #jamison fawkes #jesse mccree #overwatch 2 #reader insert #y/n #x reader #fluff #ask #ow2 #cuddles #cuddle headcanons #cuddling #overwatch x reader #genji shimada x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #junkrat x reader

[valkyrieromanoff]

GUESS THE LINE: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

Summary: You and Pedro play Guess the line.

Tags: can be read in a platonic way or not, fluff, just friends having fun together.

A/N: My college is back and it's already killing me. I should be finishing my internship report, but here I am finishing one more imagine about Pedro Pascal. 

I hope you enjoy it, and sorry for the spelling mistakes.

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal”

“And I’m Y/N” 

“And this is” Your co-star began, tilting his head to face you so that you could speak together. “Is this a line from Caught Eye?”

"I confess my memory is not the best, but we'll see how it goes." You said while staring at the papers on the table. 

Pedro took the first one and looked at the paper for a moment before returning to you. “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.” You joked.

“Born ready..” Pedro repeated laughing, as if he thought the pun was very funny. He took another look at the paper. "This one's pretty easy. You'll get it right."

“I'll get this wrong, just because you said it.” You smiled.

“You stay awake, do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please, come on!” Pedro read the sentence, making his tone more serious.

"It's your line, Caught Eye, Miguel." You said it, lightly tapping your head as if it were obvious. "That scene, with a lot of fake blood involved, still haunts me." You reminded.

"Really? I found it so relaxing to sit in the snow while they threw more fake blood over it." Pedro sneered, waiting for you to grab another paper.

"Come on." You muttered, after reading the sentence.

"What? You don't know where the phrase is from?" Pedro asks, tilting his head to see what's written but returning when he remembers that the point of the game was to guess. 

"I know, it's just a coincidence." You explained, reading on. “Did you really not see it? Or were you too afraid to look?”

"Um, I'm not sure." He muttered, scratching his beard, making an exaggerated expression of contemplation. "I'm kidding, it's Miguel, Caught Eye. Those are so easy."

"I said, better than I imagined." You agreed, tossing the paper aside.

Pedro laughed when he read the line on the paper. He straightened in his chair, preparing his southern accent to recite.

“How would you like to ride home a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie’s out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.”

You laughed, because you knew the answer. In fact, everyone with tiktok knew exactly where that audio was from.

“Agent Whiskey, Kingsman: The Golden Circle.” You said, and Pedro responded with 'ding, ding, ding'. "When you released that film, did you imagine that six years later, it would bomb again because of your character?" Pedro chuckled and shook his head.

"Surely, I knew that at some point, Whiskey would be the star." He joked. "I'm kidding, I never thought that would happen. I guess it was a nice surprise that thousands of people out of nowhere liked me."

"Who doesn't like you, Pedro?" You said, as he smiled discreetly. 

You picked up a new paper.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I’m trying to care.” You read, uncertain.

You read, uncertain.

"You don't know what movie it is?" Pedro asked, noticing your confusion.

"I have no idea." 

Pedro laughed.

“Dieter, The Bubble.”

"How did you know?" You asked curiously.

"I played him." Pedro shrugged as you blushed embarrassedly.

"Well, it must be a good movie." You retorted, waiting for him to pick up the next line.

“Just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it isn't there.” Pedro read, staring at you expectantly.

"Caught eye."

"Who said that?" He asked.

"Me, I said it."

"You're right." Pedro confirmed, tossing the paper away.

"That's a good one." You commented, reading the sentence. “It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway. You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

"It's from The Last of Us, Joel tells Henry when Sam and Ellie are playing." Peter spoke up, celebrating his answer. "I'm really good at that."

You chuckled.

Pedro stared at the paper, and shook his head thoughtfully.

"You don't know what it is?" you asked curiously.

"No, I know, I was just trying to remember when it happened." He spoke.

 “Silly girl, can’t you see the truth in front of you? You mean nothing to him, you’re just bargaining chips for his freedom.”

"I remember that one, Caught Eye, Alexander says that to me." You stated. "I remember my face getting swollen from crying so much in that scene, Mads Mikkelsen is a really great actor, he acts his part so well."

"He really is, he can convey that aura of complex and morally grey characters." Pedro agreed.

"Okay, I hope you get that one right. Otherwise we'll have problems," You played along, while Peter raised his hands in a sign of peace.

 “You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture.”

“Oh, that’s Lost.”

"What?" you exclaimed confused.

"I'm kidding, Caught Eye, Anna." Pedro spoke up, moving his shoulders as if the answer was obvious. "Your character said that to mine, while they were hiding in a sewer tunnel."

"Yeah, it wasn't one of the best locations." You joked.

"Only two left." Pedro commented, choosing one. He cleared his throat, leaving his tone of voice low and murmuring. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

"Oh, it's Din Djardin." You spoke, while your co-star nodded in agreement. "I'm just unsure if it's The Mandalorian or The Book of Boba Fett, because you said that in both."

"That's right, but they put The Mandalorian in here." Pedro agreed, showing the paper to you.

"Ready for the last one?" You asked, pretending to think of which paper to pick up.

"More than ever."

"This is a tricky one." You muttered. "Everybody works for somebody."

"I feel like it's something a lot of characters in different shows and contexts could have said ." Pedro spoke up, fixing his glasses. "Can I get a hint?"

"Okay, everything I think makes it very obvious." You spoke, trying to think. "Okay, pay attention."

Pedro nodded his head in agreement.

"Cocaine, wait, can I say that?" You scolded yourself, remembering that kids could watch the interview online.

Pedro laughed, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes almost closed, crinkling at the sides. 

"Narcos, Javier Penã." He said. "That was a good line."

"Those catchphrases you use before cut the scene." You agreed. 

"Well, looks like we're out of lines." Pedro commented, looking at the empty table. "I had a lot of fun guessing which ones belonged to whom."

"You were great at the game." You praised him.

"You got them all right, I think we make a good team." Pedro spoke, stretching his arms out for you to clap hands.

"Yeah, we are." You agreed, slapping his hand, a slight noise sounding. 

You both laughed.

#pedro pascal x actress reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[moonfoxgazer]

'This time, however, Danny found himself in a small town on the razor’s edge between prosperity and decline. The town called itself Amity. Danny vaguely remembered the town from his youth, though nothing really specific. He recalled playing with a hoop with some kids and sometimes helping his mother sell wares at the general store. There was that one hunter fellow he saw once with a massive beard and a bear skin coat with the head of the bear acting as a hood. But he didn’t really remember much of Amity. Though there were some who recognized him.' From Spooks and Spurs written by Sean Dillon.

Hello party people, and welcome to my @ecto-implosion art! I really wanted to play on the idea of Western Danny Phantom and explore not just cowboys but a little bit of some history of my home state and such.

I was paired with the awesome Sean Dillon and they have written this fantastic piece that I hope ya'll will enjoy. Sean went with a more spaghetti, Tarantino and Guillermo del Toro vibe, so it's more grounded in reality and has more dirt, grime and blood. Think Hateful Eight or Django vibes. :3

Now if you're interested, I have concept art and other variations of the main piece down before the cut-

Originally I went into this thinking more along the lines of DP set in the west, so I kept the ghosts and Infinite Realms as a thing and then added in a dash of Ghost king.

You had the Crown of Fire set as a hat band and then the Bolo Tie of Rage to replace the ring. My idea also was to have portable portals via six shooter and instead of a thermos, there would be the lasso and he'd just keep the captured ghosts tied up on the back of his horse, which was really just Cujo because of course the ghost dog would be his mount, it works too well.

I also did some designs for some of the other cast. These were based on a combination of historical photos, preserved outfits and modern gunfighter reenactment garb.

Tucker, Sam and Valerie.

Vlad, Walker and Ember

And lastly:

An Oppenheimer who actually is our favorite meddlesome time bastard Clockwork. Had a lot of fun with this one, Oppe is a big time figure back home so it was awesome getting to include him.

If you've read this far, thank you. I really hope you enjoy the art and story and stay tuned. Sean and I have plans for the fic they wrote, which may or may not involve adapting it into a graphic novel format.

#ectoimplosion2023 #danny phantom #moonidraw #art #phanart #fanart #danny phantom fanart #concept #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad masters #dp walker #dp ember #oppenheimer #clockwork #western aesthetic #cowboy danny phantom #spooks n spurs #long post

[lefteagleblizzard]

I’ve always have been a fan of masks

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help. Because, you will help him, right?

You can also read this on wattpad or ao3

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. “But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

#gender neutral reader #x male reader #male reader #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #billy burn #burn 2019 #billy burn x reader #burn movie #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn x you #Derek danforth #x gn reader #gn reader #Billy burn x male reader

[c9k]

the virginfest story

virginfest was organized by a woman named raven, also known as copkiller1999. it was intended to be held at her place of work, a tattoo shop called toki tattoo in atlanta, georgia, on september 11th, 2021, with tickets being sold at the door for $5 each.

the original lineup was negative xp, hard christ, hot leather, egg white, neet, sodaboy64, greens on toast, bad takes only, fried by fluoride, gjallarhornit, gezebelle gaburgably, pacific purgatory, and 13th century cowboy. however, not everyone was able to make it. sodaboy, fried, neet, and cowboy all dropped out. fried dropped out for mental health reasons, while neet and cowboy were going to meet each other but couldn't. this was likely due to cowboy having been doxxed, which caused him to delete everything. a lot of his discography is lost media now.

by the time the event was set to happen, nearly half of the artists who were going to be there, had either dropped out or left the scene altogether, but the remaining members were still enough of a draw to get people to come. posters were updated; tickets would no longer be sold in person and had to be purchased online. there was also a merch website called virginfestmerch.online.

for the most part, virginfest's existence was only rly known within the epunk community. but secretly, from the moment of its conception, a so-called "antifascist" organization called atlanta antifa had been keeping their eyes on it. (i say this bc their behavior isn't antifascist at all) on the day of, they posted an extremely long twitter thread about the event, falsely accusing the musicians involved of being far right and racist. they acted like virginfest was posing a threat, when in reality, it was just some people coming together to have a good time. raven privately requested that this be taken down, explaining that virginfest wasn't politically motivated and no one was far right. atlanta antifa didn't respond, instead screenshotting raven's message and publicly posting it.

due to all of this controversy, toki tattoo dropped the event mere hours before it was supposed to start. raven announced this on her story, clarifying that she did not support extremism. atlanta antifa was still not satisfied and said raven should be fired from her job. but it was too late for them to cancel virginfest bc many people had already arranged to be there.

chosewood park was 4 minutes away from the original location, so virginfest was relocated there. due to it being outside, everything had to be acoustic. it lasted for 4 hours and was livestreamed on twitch by a streamer called trofy. shooter claimed to not be attending due to family matters but snuck into the crowd wearing a fake beard, and ended up performing for 20 minutes due to a lack of gear.

atlanta antifa shared a pic of a man with white nationalist attire, claiming he was event security, but this wasn't true. they also shared pictures of random attendees, claiming they were white supremacists bc they wore shirts for bands atlanta antifa didn't approve of. they resorted to calling the cops but no laws were being broken. the cops ended up sticking around and hanging out.

after the event, atlanta antifa kept trying to get raven fired, going so far as to dox her. 4 days after virginfest, toki tattoo announced that they had let her go.

#epunk #virginfest #negative xp #hard christ #hot leather #egg white #neet #sodaboy64 #greens on toast #bad takes only #fried by fluoride #gjallarhornit #gezebelle gaburgably #pacific purgatory #13th century cowboy

[chunkylechonk]

My Big Roommates (Part 1)

     “Hey Sam, you hungry?” came a muffled shout from down the hall. Lying on his bed, Sam looked up from the book he was reading. He glanced over at the clock near his window, seeing that it was a quarter past eleven, and he could tell the sky was pitch black through the shutters. He knew Peter’s inquiry about his hunger was merely because he himself was hungry. He also knew who would be tasked with getting the food, since Peter found the effort required to get his own food not worth it if someone else was there to do it for him. Groaning, Sam rolled onto his back and stretched his arms wide, stiff from lying on his bed so long. Letting out an exasperated sigh and setting his book aside, Sam slowly let himself roll over and plop heavily off the edge of the bed to plant his feet on the floor. He got up and opened his bedroom door, scratching the back of his head as he walked down the short hallway that connected to the main living room. 

     Sam was twenty-seven years old, with a full head of brown hair that stuck up in the back like a rooster. He had a natural, lean build—thanks to his genetics—and helped by his fast metabolism. Many people would be envious of his body: 5’11” and weighing 185 lbs allowed Sam to still show off a fairly flat stomach. He had been into track and cross-country during college, and although he wasn’t too active, he had still maintained some lean muscle. 

     After graduating from the University of Texas in Austin with his bachelor’s in business, Sam had started working at a local start-up in the downtown area. They were involved in technology, with the big details all being a bit over his head at the moment. “They say what to do and I get it done,” is what Sam usually replied to anyone who asked about it. Working in the office, he kept his beard neatly trimmed. Combined with his bright, blue eyes and natural smile, clients were more often than not won over by his charisma. 

     The job was part of the reason Sam lived with Peter and Antonio. The other of course being money. Living downtown could be pretty expensive, and Sam’s job didn’t exactly pay that much at the moment. He had met Peter back in college, becoming casual friends since they had lived in the same dorm building for several years. When he had seen on Facebook that Peter was looking for another roommate to share an apartment with, Sam had quickly taken the offer. At first he had been a little wary, remembering how Peter had always been about fun, not so much hard work back in college. He remembered several times studying and seeing Peter making a drunken return to the dorms late at night after partying yet again.  But he seemed to have mellowed out at least a little since then, and the two months he’d been here had been fairly enjoyable. Their other roommate Antonio was great as well, but he worked odd hours as a chef at a restaurant, getting back either really early or late, always looking like he hadn’t gotten sleep in five days. 

     As Sam walked into the living room, he found Peter lounging across their sofa, the TV in front of him blaring some annoying commercials. Several beer bottles were strewn around his feet, and another was firmly planted against Peter’s lips as he drained it. Sam rolled his eyes as he waited for him to finish. 

     There was no other way to say it — Peter was a big guy. A full blown Texan, he was 6’2’’ and a whopping 300 lbs. Most of that weight sat firmly on his gut, forming a prominent beer belly that stuck out several inches in front of him. The rest of him was filled out as well, both his biceps and thighs showing a fair amount of added beef. His facial features had turned soft, but he had a full beard to give him a very southern cowboy-look. Brown messy hair and deep hazelnut eyes, he was an attractive man, albeit a very big man. But it never seemed to bother him. Never in the time that he had known him could Sam remember Peter being self-conscious, or even attempting something near a diet. He ate what he wanted when he wanted it, and always seemed to be reaching for more.

     Finally finishing his beer, Peter shot a crooked smile at Sam and repeated his question. “Hey man you hungry?”

     Deciding that a late-night snack could be nice, Sam replied. “Yeah sure, want me to drive and get some McDonald’s?” It was the closest place he could think of, and he wanted this to be a fast trip. 

     “Of course man, get me the usual!” Peter said enthusiastically. Content now, he leaned back further on the couch, spreading his arms wide along the back, causing his shirt to ride up and exposing an inch of the flesh on his belly. For a moment, Sam could only stare at the strip of visible skin. He had the strange urge to reach over and pinch the fat, to see how firm it was or if his fingers would sink in. Shaking the creepy thought away, he went and grabbed his keys and headed out the door. 

     It only took Sam a few minutes to get to the McD’s; the street their apartment building sat on was conveniently and suspiciously home to a number of greasy food joints just like it. Pulling into the lot, Sam opted for just going through the drive-through, and save the hassle of getting down. Stopping next to the menu board, he rolled down his window, and a wave of hot, summer air came rushing to greet him. 

     That classic crackly voice came onto the speaker after a short moment. “Hi, welcome to McDonald’s, what will it be?” Sam quickly shot off the order from memory: three double quarter pounders, two 20 chicken nuggets, two large orders of fries, and a large coke. It really was a testament to how many times Sam had been subscripted to help satiate Peter’s food cravings. Maybe he’d have to bring it up later. He pulled around to the next window and handed the girl his card. He noticed the slight look of surprise on her face as he came around the corner. It was obvious why; one person in the car and enough food to feed a family of six. Usually the workers had the sense to not react to it, or Sam had just gotten used to it after all the delivery trips he’d already made. But tonight he was feeling impatient, hardly glancing at the girl as she handed him back his card. He was still thrown off by the weird moment he’d had looking at Peter on the couch. Pulling up to the next window, the worker handed him the coke first, before somehow fitting through the window the biggest bag Sam had ever seen. Unable to do anything else, Sam grabbed the heavy paper bag being thrust at him from the boy, dropping it right on his lap. 

     “What the hell is this!?” Sam exclaimed as he looked into the bag. It was filled with burgers and boxes of nuggets, with fries spilling from their containers all over the contents. The concerned look on the girl’s face made a little more sense now. Had he said the right orders? Had they repeated it back to him and he just hadn’t been paying attention? The more he thought back, the more Sam doubted himself. 

     The guy just gave him a puzzled look in regards to his question. “Is that not your order sir?” 

     “Yeah I guess so,” Sam said slowly. It was too late to give it back, seeing as he had already paid for it all. With some effort, he managed to displace the massive bag into the passenger seat. He rolled up his window and headed back to the apartment. Let’s hope Peter’s hungry, Sam thought dryly. 

     Pulling back into the apartment complex, Sam turned off the engine and got out of his car. It really was hot tonight, and he didn’t know why he had grabbed his jacket. In his flustered state before leaving, he must not have been thinking clearly. The warm food had smelled heavenly in the car, but it had only added to Sam’s growing discomfort. Beads of sweat could be felt running down his back, and his forehead was glistening. He opened the passenger door, grabbed the giant bag and drink, and headed back up to the apartment. 

     He opened the door, Peter exactly where he had left him on the couch, eyes transfixed on the TV. It had only been like twenty minutes, so Sam wasn’t too surprised. The only indicator that he had moved were the added beer bottles that had appeared on the already cluttered floor. Sam counted seven on the ground as he peeled off his sweaty jacket, and he spied one more in Peter’s hand. His other hand lay lightly on his gut, rubbing in small circles around the beach ball of a belly. In addition, his shirt had also ridden up another inch as his belly expanded with beer, almost exposing his navel. Getting his attention, Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, “Food’s here!” 

     That perked him up, Peter’s eyes darting to Sam and then quickly to the giant bag he had in his hand. Another one of those goofy grins spread across his face, and he patted the spot next to him on the couch. “Well set it down here before I starve and wither away!” Peter found his joke extremely amusing, chuckling at his apparent wit. Sam could definitely tell he was drunk as he walked over to the couch. He set the bag down in the middle of the couch, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

     “They gave me more than I ordered, but I guess we can save some stuff for tomorrow.” Sam said as he sat down. 

     Peter immediately dug his hand into the bag, grabbing a burger and fries from its depths without so much as looking. Stuffing fries in his mouth by the handful as he unwrapped the burger, Sam could only watch as the goliath before him devoured the food. Peter took a massive bite of the burger, chasing it down his throat with another fistful of fries shoved down to follow. The pattern continued like that until both were gone, and then repeated itself. More food went from the bag to Peter’s stomach, filling out his already monstrous gut. The mountain of fat was growing slowly, burgeoning outward as Peter continued to eat. As he got to a twenty piece chicken nuggets, Sam could swear each one pushed Peter’s belly farther out. The sudden image of a slot machine popped into his head: every nugget like a coin being inserted for one more pump to Peter’s belly. His food stained white t-shirt now hugged him halfway up his belly, showing off his deep navel surrounded by a very hairy belly. Dark, curly brown hair matted his stomach, growing even darker and fuller where a thick happy trail led down its center, tracing into his trousers. Looking on in wonder, Sam could tell Peter’s pants were straining to contain his giant ball gut growing right in front of his eyes. The button looked like it was pinching Peter’s underbelly, and he was pretty sure it was about to pop right off if he ate anymore. 

     After finishing the nuggets and yet another burger, Peter stopped, leaning back with a dazed look from all the food he’d just consumed. Both hands were gripping the sides of his gut, fingers digging into the skin getting more taut every minute. A low rumbling could be heard from his stomach, proceeding a massive burp that he let out. Grinning after relieving his discomfort, Peter then proceeded to fix another. 

     “Damn Sam, when’d it get so hot in here? I gotta take off these clothes to cool off.” Without waiting for a reply, he pulled his tight shirt over his head and chucked it onto the floor. He gave Sam a sideways glance, “Hope you don't mind.” His pants however refused to be removed, as Peter had some difficulty undoing the button. Or maybe it was just that he couldn’t see it past his gut. Finally he managed to release the tension after sucking in a bit, causing his belly to noticeably expand out as it was released from the tight waistband and he exhaled, wriggling out of them and tossing them on the floor too (making his belly jiggle slightly). Leaning back into the sofa, Peter let out a sigh of relief as he tucked into yet another burger. 

     Sam was dumbfounded. All of a sudden his giant roommate was sitting in front of him in nothing but some very tight red boxer briefs, chowing down on greasy food. And even more concerning, it was turning him on. Sam had never considered that he might be gay. After all, he’d had a girlfriend back in college, until they broke up fairly recently because of the whole long-distance thing. But now here he was, sitting with his big, mostly naked roommate, and he couldn’t take his eyes off him. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon sight in their apartment, but Sam had never felt this way before, or at least he hadn’t ever sat right next to Peter during one of his binges. Almost against his will, Sam’s eyes roamed over Peter’s nude body. How his belly continued to expand with each bite, resting heavily on his lap. How his entire body jiggled slightly whenever he moved: from his meaty thighs to his gorgeous love handles. And of course how his gut had grown into a perfect sphere that curved up to meet his pecs, which were puffy from their added layer of insulation.

     What the hell is wrong with me? Sam asked himself as he stared gaping at his roommate. Peter was finishing another thing of nuggets, his cheeks filled to the brim and a big smile on his face. Popping the last one in his mouth, he slowly looked over and made eye contact with Sam. Realizing he was still staring, and had been this entire time, Sam quickly averted his gaze, turning to focus on the TV. He didn’t even know what was on — some basketball game? — he had no idea. He could still feel Peter’s eyes on him, burning into him with a scorching intensity. 

     “Hey man, you’re not gonna eat?” Peter asked. Sam turned to see him looking at him curiously, almost as if he was pouting. 

     “No, you go ahead. My stomach doesn’t feel so good.” Which was partially true, Sam admitted. With all that was happening, it felt like a huge stone had been stuck in his stomach. He felt extremely queasy with all these new feelings rushing around in his head, not to mention what was happening in his pants.

     “Aww c’mon man, feel bad eating by myself!” Peter said.

     “You’re fine.” Sam replied, still not turning his head. “The people at the drive-through gave me too much,” he repeated, “so we can leave it for later.”

     But Peter was already shaking his head, a frown now on his previously happy face. “Is not good when it’s cold. Has to be eaten now.”

     Sam tried his best to act normal. “Well you’re doing a pretty good job of putting it all away man,” he laughed a little awkwardly. 

     “There’s a lot left, you have to eat some.”

     “No really I’m fine—“ Sam began to protest, but stopped as Peter rose from his seat. It took a moment for him to lift his new and improved baggage off of the couch. His overhang was so big, Peter had to support his belly with one hand, cradling his engorged belly and leaning back slightly to his new center of balance. Standing up showcased Peter’s body like a fattened hog at the fair. And there was a lot to see. Sam could see how perfectly round his belly was, stuffed full of food. Laboriously, he moved his girth the two steps needed to reach where Sam sat on the couch, his body jiggling with every colossal step. Peter moved the bag of food aside and turned, giving Sam a quick look at Peter’s wide, bubble butt, pushing against the confines of his briefs, before plopping down on the couch next to him. The entire sofa jumped and screeched back a few inches as all 300, and probably now more, pounds of Peter landed, bouncing and jiggling, right next to Sam, who was frozen from pure bafflement. 

    Peter leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to him, “Then I’ll help you eat some food.” Grabbing a box of nuggets, he pressed right up to Sam, his belly pressing into Sam’s side as he leaned into him. Next thing Sam knew, Peter threw his arm around his shoulder and was lifting a chicken nugget to his mouth with the other. Sam began to splutter at the bizarre situation, and the close proximity he now found himself to Peter. 

     “Peter, I said I’m not hung—“ but he had to stop as his roommate shoved the food into his mouth anyways. Chewing and swallowing angrily, Sam drew breath to protest again, but was foiled by another nugget already poised in front of his mouth. It kept going like this, Peter forcing nugget after nugget into Sam’s mouth, almost giving him no time in between to catch his breath. As it went on, Peter’s right hand moved down to one of Sam’s pecs. Reaching them, his roommate began to gently massage his nipple through his shirt, sending a tingle throughout Sam’s entire body. He closed his eyes and let out a small moan of pleasure around the food in his mouth. Being fed (he had already finished the nuggets and was now being fed a double cheeseburger), and stimulated at the same time, Sam felt better than he ever had in his entire life. He felt his dick growing in his pants as the blood rushed to it, and prayed that it wasn’t too noticeable yet. Peter grinned, speaking drunkenly as he continued to feed Sam. “Feel good Sam?”

All Sam could let out was a faint gasp as Peter leaned closer into his side. His stomach was nestled against him, and very slowly he felt Peter begin to push up against him. “You like that Sammy?” Any reply Sam had planned was cut off by a handful of fries being shoved in his mouth, forcing him to chew. 

          “Doesn’t it feel good pushing your gut to the limit? Reaching for more when everyone else would stop or get sick?” Every question was followed by another few fries. “I love it. Feeling full doesn’t get me going anymore, I need to be stuffed.” Even more fries. Peter leaned in and whispered in Sam’s ear  “Until I pop.”

          Having now eaten enough food for two, Sam’s stomach was beginning to round out; a shallow curve where it had always been flat. His slim button up was getting a tad snug, but only a small diamond of skin was showing from the middle button. Peter’s eyes lit up at the sight, a thrill running through his body, and he increased his pace, Sam desperately trying to keep up. 

Leaning forward, Peter grabbed the forgotten drink on the table and clutched the cup as he settled back in. Sam lay enthralled by how Peter’s belly hung down when he leaned forward. Perhaps for the first time, Sam realized that Peter didn’t really have love handles. Sure, he had fat there like he had across the rest of his body. But for the most part, the bulk of his...added bulk settled stoically on his gut. Sam wondered if this was on purpose, as if he had figured out how to put all his food solely to growing forward. His dick grew even more, making him shift slightly as Peter lifted the Coke to his mouth. He gulped it down, feeling the fizzy liquid filling the spaces between all the food in his stomach. Finally being allowed a breath, Sam burped loudly, earning a quick pinch to his nipple from Peter, who just grinned that same grin. Boxes came and went in a blur, the contents all going into Sam’s growing gut. His shirt was now uncomfortably tight, all the buttons straining to hold back the surging growth of his stomach. As if on cue, the button right on his midriff released with a pop, flying away to allow his stomach to inch out a bit. 

The sound brought Sam out of his daze, and he glanced down at what his roommate was doing to him. His stomach looked like he had a basketball inside of it, grease and crumbs scattered across his straining shirt. Moving a bit, another button flew off, launching across the room and revealing more of the new belly. Sam groaned, realizing how full he was, rubbing his stomach’s curve as its contents sloshed around inside him. Another burp erupted from his mouth, and he blushed furiously. If he had been in the right frame of mind, he might have realized this was the same state he had witnessed Peter in not even an hour ago.

     “Shirt’s begging for release Sammy.” Peter commented. “Think we should let it out of its misery?

     Sam glanced down at his soiled shirt, breathing heavily during his respite around all the food he had consumed. “No...it’s...it’s fine.”

     “Should we let you out of your misery?” Peter teased, fingering Sam’s belly button through the gap in his shirt. Slowly, Peter unbuttoned the remaining buttons on the shirt, pulling it off of his roommate and tossing it on top of his own discarded clothes. Now the extent of the damage could be seen by both men. Peter placed his hand on Sam’s new belly, rubbing small circles around the shallow curve. He marveled at how much of a difference there was after such a short time. Sam’s skin glistened with fast food grease, and his skin felt tight. His belly protruded over the waistband of his pants. Peter turned himself more towards Sam and placed both his meaty hands on his stomach. He traced two circles with his hands, pressing lightly into Sam’s taut belly. The slight pressure elicited another small burp from Sam, who had taken to looking down from embarrassment. 

Continuing to rub Sam’s belly, Peter’s hands explored the new expanse of flesh. Every time he pushed against his belly he was rewarded with another small burp from Sam. This pleased Peter, cause he knew that meant more room in Sam’s stomach to fill with food. His hands moved around until they rested on Sam’s ass. His pants felt like they were tight around his butt. Slowly, Peter pulled Sam across the couch, coaxing him forward until they were nearly on top of each other. Then he began to unbutton Sam’s tight jeans. 

Sam quickly tried to protest and squirmed. “Peter no, stop! You’re super drunk right now! I don’t want—”

But Peter just smiled as he met Sam’s eyes, and continued to unbutton his pants. 

“I think” he drawled, “that you do want this. I saw the way you were looking at me Sammy. While I was eating.” As Peter said that, he successfully released the button of Sam’s jeans. Now he started to work them off. “You couldn’t take your eyes off me. Or, I guess off of my gut.” he corrected as he got the jeans past Sam's thighs. “I’m flattered. I didn’t know you felt that way. You don’t gotta lie to me.” Peter said, leaning down to tug the bunched up denim past each foot. He cast the obstinate jeans away, happy he had finally gotten them off Sam. Raising his head, Peter stopped when he was eye level with Sam’s gray underwear. And the apparent bulge within them. “Seems like a friend of yours can’t lie to me.” 

Slowly, in case Sam got scared off, Peter took Sam’s hands and placed them squarely onto his belly. Sam’s eyes widened for a moment before he began to run his hands gently across the large gut. Starting from the shelf of his belly, Sam touched every part of Peter that he could reach, slowly becoming bolder with his probing of all of Peter’s fat. The big guy let out a moan as Sam pinched his underbelly, and grinned when he tickled his love handles. At the same time, Sam was breathing increasingly heavier, whether from Peter’s body or from his full stomach, it wasn’t clear. 

The two men continued to rub each other’s full stomachs, sitting on the couch in nothing but their underwear. Sam wouldn’t have guessed in his wildest dreams that this is how his night would turn out, but he felt too turned on to care. Whatever he had felt watching Peter eat was magnified now, after being force fed and stimulated like he was. 

Sam glanced at Peter quickly. “So, I didn’t know that you were gay.”

Peter laughed, causing his belly to bounce against Sam’s. “I’ve fooled around a few times with some guys. Mostly frat guys who weren’t out. Usually we were drunk too. What really turned me on was this. Eating until I was so full that I could barely move. Since we were either drunk or high when we’d hook up, there was always food involved. I love feeling this big, but seeing those fit frat guys let go and lose those abs made me get harder than anything else.”

Since Sam was sitting on his lap, he could feel Peter’s dick beneath him, which was pressing against his butt as they spoke. Between his dick below him and his hands on his stomach, Sam was totally in Peter’s control. 

“I remembered you from college and you were always cute.” Peter grabbed either side of Sam’s tight belly. “But always so skinny. And then you moved in here and kept mostly to yourself. Not that I was uh…putting on a show on purpose. But tonight when you were watching me, I felt more turned on than I’d ever been before.” With that statement, Peter finally dropped his hand and grabbed Sam’s dick through his underwear. “I’m happy that you like this too.” 

Sam moaned louder than he had all night, leaning towards Peter and kissing him fully on the lips. They were so occupied with each other, they didn’t hear the front door open. When they pulled apart, the first thing they saw was their other roommate standing in the entryway.

#wg fiction #gay gainer #mutual gaining #male feedism #gay bears #chubby guys

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Thirsty thursday random late night thought but

Imagining like cowboy!Elvis rn and just some sweaty s*x maybe in the barn or like in the shed 🤤🤤🤤 that sounds hot affff

i know its not thirsty thursday anymore but it is slutty sunday so it's ok AND IT'S ALSO KING'S BDAY SO WHAT BETTER WAY TO CELEBRATE???

i have ✨thots✨

cowboy!elvis is so real i mean the man DID own horses after all. he also played a cowboy more than once so allow me to introduce some reference photos for your viewing pleasure while i go off

i know he didn't like the beard but i truly do not understand why 😩 it fits his face so well. i just need to tell him that he's pretty but anywayyyy cowboy!elvis:

i know this is so basic, but the farmhand AU is just so good. so we're imagining elvis as the farmhand at your family's ranch here.

you've been casting longing glances at each other for so long now and you both know that you're crazy about each other, but it's so wrong to get involved with an employee. and he wouldn’t dream of insulting your honor as his boss.

but every time he hoists a bail of hay over his shoulder (his back muscles glistening in the hot summer sun) or calmingly rubs his long, slender fingers over a horse's muzzle to calm them, you just can't help but oogle.

one night, you're helping him sweep out the barn, all the horses and cattle are out grazing so you can get into their stalls. it's just you and he sweeping in silence until you accidentally back into each other.

when you turn around to apologize, he just takes your head into his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips. and its history from there...

the next thing you know, you're being pushed back against the barn doors. he hoists you onto his hips.

i feel like cowboy!elvis is very handsy and also a major ass man. he loves watching you ride because he just stares at how nice your ass looks on the saddle.

he lays you down on a bed of hay on the barn floor and tips his stupid sexy cowboy hat. "ma'am, may i do the honors?" as his fingers play with the hem of your top.

the cowboy belt is such a useful tool to pull him closer to you. also, cowboy!elvis has a bondage kink so he's using that thing to wrap your wrists together.

on the sweat front, we all know how sweaty elvis is thanks to vegas. so you bet your ass that you're gonna feel the stickiness of his body on yours, the way the sweat rolls from his brow onto your skin, the way his scent spreads itself all over you to claim you 🥴

and if he has the beard??? beard burn pals. your thighs are gonna be so tender after sex w cowboy!elvis

he's a cuddler afterwards. pulls you close and just goes straight to sleep, not caring one bit about being absolutely disgustingly dirty. don't worry, he came prepared with a blanket to cover you and keep you warm.

also could totally 100% see cowboy!elvis having both a breeding kink and a cockwarming kink

now i have to run away and watch all of elvis' westerns lmaooo i know stay away joe is not one of his better movies but i think there's a kiss in the barn scene so 🏃‍♀️ 🏃‍♀️ 🏃‍♀️

#elvis #cowboy!elvis #do i have a tag for this? #hashtag shocked if not #dirty deeds

[rotzaprachim]

the thing about cassian andor is. i truly believe he is TRYING to be fashionable he has so few pleasures in life he would like to be a lil snazzy. however he is also living through the unavoidable fashion panoptican of being a man in the 1970′s. ergo the spacey versions of the demin jacket AND jeans look, the orange espadrilles, the eps 1-3 hair and beard look, the various forms of orange and rust tones, color blocking, stripes. i believe that at some point particularly as a Youth he has worn outfits that involved some form of paisley shirt, some aviator frames, some bell bottoms or perhaps cowboy boots 

#cassian's good/bad 70's fashion you are like a best friend to me and i love you dearly #this post is meant to inspire more people to draw him in (space) 70's fashion tbh #wildly underused #cassian andor #there is also something incredibly bisexual about his fashion everything it MUST be said

[yeehawbutalilgay]

the last of the real ones, chapter 1

woman seeking criminal cowboy, MUST have reliable friends who can assist in homicide, no you cannot ask questions.

masterlist

Chapter 1, Boone.

Margaret stood on the porch of the inn, her keen eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble. She’d been in town for less than a day, but she was already fed up with the miserable climate of Lemoyne. The sun beat down mercilessly, casting long shadows across the arid landscape. It was in this scorching heat that a wagon rumbled into view, kicking up trails of dust in its wake.

As the wagon came to a halt, Margaret's gaze fixed upon the figure stepping down. He was big, and the rifle strapped across his back told stories of a man who wasn’t to be trifled with. Then he turned around, and she saw his face. She recognized him immediately—the infamous Arthur Morgan, one of the most wanted men in the country. His reputation preceded him, tales of his daring exploits whispered across the frontier. The muscle behind one of the most dangerous gangs in the United States was taking a letter up to the post office. Another figure, smaller than Mr. Morgan, hopped off the wagon and walked straight into the general store. Another woman, probably around Margaret’s age, with long, dirty blonde hair. She could hear the woman barking orders at the general store owner.

Arthur, on the other hand, politely nodded at the people who walked past him, but kept to himself. He was wearing simple traveling clothes, a brown leather jacket and a black weathered stetson protected him from the brutal sun. He had changed since his latest wanted poster had been drawn up. His beard was cut close to his face, and his brown hair trailed past his ears. 

Margaret watched from a distance, observing both of their interactions with a mix of intrigue and caution. Arthur's eyes, sharp and guarded, surveyed their surroundings, ever watchful for threats. The young woman, on the other hand, possessed an air of confidence, her gaze meeting the world head-on. 

On any other day, Margaret would’ve left them to their business, maybe noted their arrival in her report, but state bounties weren’t her business. She already had her own work to do here in Lemoyne. But an extra gun or two would be useful…

After a few moments of contemplation, Margaret steeled herself and took a determined step forward. She knew the risks involved in approaching Arthur, a man notorious for his cold attitude and deadly shot. But the potential benefits far outweighed the dangers. If she could persuade him to work for her, his skills and knowledge could prove invaluable to her cause. The only issue would be convincing him. 

Margaret left the porch and began to follow the outlaw. He stepped inside the post office, and she waited by the fenced garden out front. After another moment or so, he stepped back out, the letter that he had been holding sent off. She approached Arthur cautiously, her heart pounding in her throat.  As she drew near, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of recognition. Margaret spoke first, her voice steady but laced with caution.

"Arthur Morgan?" she began, hesitating as his shoulders stiffened. His bright blue eyes locked onto her own.

“I’m afraid you’ve got me mistaken with someone else, miss.” He replied in a cool tone, the warning in his eyes perfectly clear. “Have a good day.” He called as he stepped past her.

“That’s a shame.” She called back, turning around to face him as he brushed past. 

“I had a lucrative job opportunity for Mr. Morgan and his associates, but it seems I was wrong. Would’ve been a lot of money for him.” She grinned as he paused, whirling around to face her. 

“Keep talking.” Arthur's gaze narrowed, his eyes assessing her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Margaret took a deep breath, her resolve unwavering. She needed to choose her words carefully, to convince him that she was worth his consideration. "I have a proposition, one that could benefit us both greatly. But I must insist on discretion. I need someone with your skills and expertise, someone who can help me achieve my goals. You’d be compensated handsomely."

Arthur's brows furrowed, his distrust evident. "You expect me to work with you without knowing the details? I don't operate that way, ma'am. I answer to Dutch Van Der Linde."

Margaret felt a twinge of frustration, but she pressed on, determined to win him over. "I understand your loyalty to your gang, Mr. Morgan. But I assure you, the job I have in mind holds significant rewards. There will be a substantial sum of money involved, more than you can imagine. All I ask is for you to hear me out, just this once."

A flicker of interest danced in Arthur's eyes, but skepticism lingered. He was a man hardened by a life on the run, wary of deception and betrayal. Margaret knew that getting him to agree would be no small feat.

"I don’t run off and do jobs on my own, miss," Arthur replied, his voice gruff yet contemplative. "But I suppose we could talk. That is, if you're willing to meet with my associates and explain yourself. We don't take risks without proper consideration, and he likes to know who we’re working with before we make any promises."

Margaret exhaled slowly, realizing that this was progress, a sliver of opportunity. She nodded, her eyes meeting Arthur's with determination. "I will meet with them, and I will prove to you both that this is a venture worth pursuing. Trust me, Mr. Morgan, and you won't be disappointed."

He shook his head and chuckled. 

“We’ll certainly see about that. And your name?” He asked, holding an expectant hand out towards her. She took it. 

“You can just call me Margaret.” She shook his hand briefly and stepped back. 

“No surname, Miss Margaret?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Not for that name, no.” She smirked in response.

“Sure.” He grinned and tapped a finger to his hat in a facsimile of a salute. 

“You’ll be hearing from us soon.” He called as he walked back towards the wagon, where the other woman now stood, wearing very different clothes than what she had come into town with. 

“I look forward to it!” She called after him, clutching her fists to her side. 

This was a terrible idea.

Arthur rode back to camp with Sadie by his side, the rhythmic clatter of hooves accompanying their thoughts. Their own encounter with the Lemoyne raiders had left him on edge, and it was only worsened by the encounter with ‘Margaret’. It all left him with a sense of unease.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sadie asked as she fiddled with her new clothes.

“I’m thinking we should be leaving the state right about now.” Arthur grunted in response, flicking the reins to urge the horses on faster. 

“Aw, cmon, it wasn’t that bad, Arthur!” Sadie exclaimed, leaning back in the wagon with her boots kicked up on the jockey box. “Those bastards couldn’t shoot straight, let alone find out where our campsite is. They won’t bother us.”

“It ain’t just about them, but don’t think I won’t forget about your little ‘shoot first, don’t ask questions’ stunt.” Arthur huffed, glancing over at her. 

“There was a woman in town.” 

Sadie barked out a laugh at that. “Some pretty girl got you all worked up now? I ain’t never-“ Arthur scowled at her.

“It ain’t like that. She knew who I was, seems she knew about the gang too. Asked me to do some work for her.”

Sadie straightened up in her seat, turning to face him. “How much money?” She asked, eyes sparking with curiosity. 

“Didn’t say. Just said that she wanted someone with my ‘skill and level of discretion.’” Arthur chuckled and shook his head. “I’m pretty sure we have the discretion of a bull in a china shop.” 

“Guess she’ll have to find that out for herself, won’t she?” Sadie smirked to herself.

As the wagon approached the familiar campsite, Arthur's mind raced, knowing he had to tell Dutch and Hosea about the unexpected proposition. If they said no to her offer, she might try to blackmail the gang or go to the authorities. No matter what, this new woman spelled trouble. 

Dismounting from the wagon, Arthur broke off from Sadie and headed towards the center of camp, where Dutch and Hosea were engaged in a heated discussion. Not quite shouting, but certainly on their way. Like an old married couple. Arthur thought to himself, amused. Their voices carried in the evening air. As Arthur approached, he could hear snippets of their conversation— Hosea and Dutch were arguing about how they could pick apart the two families in town, the Braithwaites and the Grays.

"What's all this fuss about?" Arthur interjected, his voice cutting through the tension. 

Dutch's eyes fell upon Arthur. "Arthur, my boy! Hosea and I were just talking about how we were gonna work these Southern fools to our advantage."

“We’ve got a few different plans in motion already,  it seems.” Hosea remarked as he leaned back in his chair. The older man had a sour expression.

“As important as all that sounds, we’ve got some more urgent trouble.” Arthur sat down at the table, looking grim.

“What’s got you so worked up, son?” Dutch asked with a frown.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur recounted the encounter with Margaret, the woman who seemed to know far too much about him. Her proposition and the promise of substantial riches were nothing to scoff at. As he spoke, Hosea's brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on Arthur.

"But you say she recognized you, Arthur?" Hosea interjected, his tone laced with concern. "That doesn't sit right with me. We've been careful. Too careful."

Arthur nodded, acknowledging Hosea's valid point. "I know, Hosea. It rattled me too.” 

“This is good.” Dutch spoke suddenly. He had been leaning forward, hand pressed against his chin in that familiar pose. It was how he always sat when he was coming up with some new plan to get them more money. 

“How you figure?” Arthur asked, waiting for the older man to speak.

“It means whatever job she has cooked up is worth more than the bounty on all of our heads.” Hosea scoffed and shook his head.

“Dutch-“

Dutch shook his head. “Think about it, Hosea. If she really needed the money, she would’ve turned us all in without a second thought. But she asked Arthur for help. This could be it. One last big job, right?”

Hosea remained silent for a moment. His eyes were distant as he weighed the pros and cons. "I suppose we shouldn’t dismiss this opportunity without at least exploring it.” He sighed.

“Thank you, Hosea! Money opens doors, and we can't afford to let them all close." Dutch replied, looking pleased with himself.

Hosea's expression darkened, his voice dripping with skepticism. "And what if this is a trap? We can’t afford to play right into her hands."

Arthur shifted uneasily, torn between loyalty to his long-time friend and the nagging feeling that Hosea's concerns held weight.

“I understand your worries, Hosea. Tell you what, we’ll pay her a visit tonight, get some information, and decide from there." Dutch insisted. 

A silence settled over the trio as the gravity of their decision sank in. The compromise offered a chance to gather more information, to assess the true nature of Margaret's proposition. But it also carried the threat of violence, the possibility of a life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

Dutch finally broke the silence, his voice firm yet tinged with uncertainty. "Arthur, you and Javier will go to her hotel tonight. Have a… chat with her, get the answers we need. If we don't like what we hear, then we'll deal with her accordingly."

Arthur swallowed hard, the weight of the task ahead settling heavily on his shoulders. He understood the gravity of their actions, the fine line they walked between opportunity and danger.

“Sure, Dutch.”

As the camp settled into an uneasy stillness, Arthur couldn't help but wonder about Margaret. What secrets did she hold? And what would their encounter that night reveal? Out here, where trust was scarce and danger lurked around every corner, they would have to navigate treacherous waters to ensure their survival.

With a deep breath, Arthur steeled himself for the night ahead, knowing that his loyalty would be tested once more.

#WOOPS FORGOT TO POST THIS A WHILE BACK #ao3 saw this first #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption two

[itwoodbeprefect]

WIP Game! ✨

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

-

i was tagged by @luredin (thank you!) and i’ll tag @redgoldblue, @spaceradars, @logicgunn, and you, the person reading this, to either do this tag game, not do it, or do it six months from now (or anywhere between now and then) - whichever works for you.

-

and then, hm. the thing about how i write fic is that technically speaking it’s, uh, deeply inefficient, in the sense that i’ll start a hundred things (more literally than you might think) and bounce around between them until something gets close enough to being finished that it just needs a final little push (which only happens for about half the things i start, but that’s okay, because the other half is also an invaluable part of the process).

point being, the list of WIPs is long. curated version (with any projects i’d consider abondoned/barely started filtered out) below the cut. send me a title or fandom + number!

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Starsky & Hutch (practically all of this is Starsky/Hutch)

Our girlfriend who lives in Canada

All your ducks in a row

Starsky gets politically involved

Starsky decides Hutch’s mustache is gay

On blond blintzes, and how to sweeten them: easy 5-step recipe!

Starsky interrupts Hutch’s date with a guy

Gold dust woman // Take your silver spoon (Dig your grave)

Hutch has a new neighbor

Peter Whitelaw meets Starsky for dinner

Someone overhears them

Starsky’s brother visits

Hutch gets himself a beard

Not even a good kisser (Death in a different place tag)

Everything goes wrong / They were jinxed

Hutch kisses Starsky

Hutch would pick Paul Newman

Starsky’s painted nails

Love you to love me

Sleep together sometimes

Fire metaphors - And a freight train running through the middle of my head

Starsky dates a married woman

Here be dragons (Cowboy on the white horse)

Hutch is the utterly oblivious one, Starsky is confused

Greg is a four letter word

Cuddling only happens when they’re dying

Huggy brings a housewarming gift

Arranged Marriage AU

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Pet Rock

Hutch vs. glasses

Twilight

Personalized embroidered towels

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Hawaii Five-0 (everything here is Steve/Danny)

It might sound cheesy

The opposite of purple prose (isn’t this)

Counting the days (and the hours, minutes, seconds, and maybe a microsecond or two)

The fic where Steve thinks Danny is dating the botanist neighbor

Arguments over spice racks

Five people who don’t get why Danny couldn’t just tell Steve that he’s in love with him (and one person who does)

Steve sees rainbows everywhere

Danny loses track of the line between friendship and romance

Five things Nahele learned from Steve (plus one)

They try to find a term for each other

Ace soulmate AU

The bunk beds fic

Steve and Danny buy a house together

Five times Steve is not going to be emotional about moving

They have Lou and Renee over for dinner!!!

The hyphenation of life

I love you sounds different if you’re saying it to a guy you’re sleeping with

I spy, with my little bi

Multimedia fic?

The soap opera fix

Deus ex machina (the one with dolphin God)

Danny has someone else

Steve’s becomes… themed

They watch Top Gun

Danny Williams and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Neighborhood Barbecue

Danny undercover needs to ward off advances

Danny tries to get Steve’s phone because he sent Stella a gay crisis text

Superheroes at a museum

A flip-flop state of mind (the half-posted multichapter fic already up on ao3)

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Stargate Atlantis (John/Rodney except for that last one, where it’s &)

The Brightest Light in Atlantis

Universe where X

Some kind of DADT repeal fic

John tells Rodney he likes him and they try to figure it out together

Aro Ace John

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due South (RayK/Fraser, and for #2 also RayV/Stella)

Oral hygiene fic

Fraser and both Rays and Stella have dinner together

The Guy Thing

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Other

Homophobia? (Sports Night, Dan/Casey)

Leapfrog (911, Buck/Eddie)

Jolene/Diane (from the songs. so I guess songfic)

Johnny comes out (and he and Daniel keep going to that bar) fic (Cobra Kai, Johnny/Daniel)

Our Dear Mr. Wilson’s Guide To Becoming A Successful Contributing Member Of A Team Of Internationally Renowned High-Tech Do-Gooder Criminals (Leverage Redemption, gen with background OT3)

MASH marriage fic (MASH, Hawkeye/Trapper)

BJ figures out Hawkeye is not very heterosexual (MASH, gen)

#the h50 list especially is. considerably shortened #there's an older version of The Big H50 WIP Document that if presented in full would probably push us over the 100 mark by itself #but we don't need that. this is... 75. i think 75 is enough #* #tag stuff

[mooifyourecows]

One of my favorite parts about brainstorming a new original story is coming up with the types of pets the characters are going to have 👀👀

This new one involves a cowboy/famer/rancher so I get to come up with dogs, cats, horses, AND livestock. LETS GOOOOO

I think he should have multiple dogs, with different jobs. So I'm thinking a couple livestock guardian breeds like a Great Pyrenees or Anatolian Shepherd or even a Spanish Mastiff 👀👀👀

In addition to guardian dogs he will need herding dogs though. Gut instinct says Border Collie, but that's kinda boring so maybe Belgian Tervuren or Bouvier des Flandres or Bearded Collie....... (or all of them 👀)

Idk shit about horses so I'll have to look those up. I'm thinking something big though. Massive, really. Do people ride draft horses like Clydesdale or are those just for pulling things? 🤔 hmmm much to think about...

[saltsprite]

ALL THE FANFIC ASK MEMES and go in descending order from most recent works with [insert fic]

i dont know why i thought you wouldnt do this to me

@steine-druff & @ckerouac​ yall buckle up too here we go

(from questions for fic writers)

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) tame! it’s short, very sweet, kinda domestic, easy peasy

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? in this order, 1-5: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent; Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; Oral Sex; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Light Angst. .........yeah it me LOL

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? well apparently my writing is very Horny lmao but i try to switch it up regularly and explore new things, so i don’t know that i can pin down just one thing! if i really had to, i try to write like a good film that holds the camera on its actors to just let their scenes breathe and their actors act

4. What detail in [tame] are you really proud of? cobb calling grogu ‘sweet pea’ hehe <3

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [secretary]? Answer it now! Q: is Din a little tsundere there? A: yes >;3

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [pearls before beskar] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? pearls are a bitch to clean ;3

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? i made two OCs to live in Mos Pelgo/Freetown, both completely accidentally named after towns in Texas -- a young woman named Odessa, and a big burly dude (gender-neutral) with a huge beard named Sweetwater

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)? i can’t really think of any! i also don’t usually adapt things 1:1 from anything, so even when i do take inspiration from a song it’s more about the general vibe or expanding on an idea in the lyrics 

9. How do you find new fic to read? i... need to get better at it ;lkdfj;ald

10. How do you decide what to write? first and foremost it has to Vibe hard enough that i can spin off from that initial kernel of an idea

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is? i spend most of my time in DinCobb, but i am deeply fond of BobaCobb. like obviously DinCobb scratches a deep cowboy itch, but with BobaCobb, there’s just such an interesting dynamic of them both having (essentialy) worn Jango’s soul. it’s a profoundly tight thread that binds them together, reinforced by their mutual friendships with Din, that i just cannot get enough of

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? “tropes”, more like “kinks” LMAO -- which is to say, that’s for me to know and you to try and figure out while you read my smut

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore? really just depends on who writes it! 

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer? YES. anything involving a power dynamic that’s kinda icky irl (like doctor/patient). also f/f version of a m/m ship. also BobaFen. 

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? that same old song and dance -- the one where Cobb and Din are both young bounty hunters hired on the same job and it goes tits-up when Cobb is accidentally drugged, and they fuck after they save each other and the drugs wear off; and then meet again in canon

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)? im gonna fucken write a DinCobb Evangelion someday fuckin WATCH ME

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it? oh i already wrote that LOLLLLL my precious DinCobb Utena AU

18. If you wrote a sequel to [rabbit heart], what would it involve? take that predator trope and suplex it to break its neck by having wolf!Din become Cobb’s homemaker, so that jackalope!Cobb can come home to a happy pup of a man

19. If you wrote a spin-off of [sugar pie, honey bun(ny)], what would it involve? Fennec Shand with her fingers in her ears plotting out how much dick and pussy she’ll need to forget about this

20. If you wrote a prequel to [sweet like strawberry], what would it involve? oooohhh their first meeting, i think

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [once bitten, twice shy], what would it be? ch2, Raylan gets his hat back smelling like Ezra and only once he’s home and the door is locked he’s shoving his nose into the sweatband to huff Ezra’s smell and try not to jerk off about it (and fail)

22. Who is your favorite character in [four times lucky] and why? Boba Fett LMAO cheeky bastard <3

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? lovers to enemies >:]

24. Are there any easter eggs in [take my revolution], and if so, what are they? as im typing out “ah jeez i don’t even use easter eggs” i am reminded that i am a stinky liar, i absolutely put Kaoru Miki and Himemiya Anthy in my Utena AU fic. i was gonna have a scene where Utena herself appears but i could never figure out how to do it gracefully so i gave up on that (because the trick to AUs is actually to change the AU to fit the characters, not to change the characters to fit the AU, so if i can’t do it gracefully then it’s a sign that the idea is shit)

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write? Wookieepedia, thesaurus

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue? oh fuck these are both good challenges,,,,,,, at this point i’d say “fic that’s only dialogue” for the challenge 

27. How long did it take to write [the ground you walk on]? Describe the process. aka the one with the Boot Stuff. process was to 1) watch Cobb Vanth’s glorious return in TBOBF 2) get horny as fuck 3) whip this out in like a day in a fervent fugue state

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who? hahahahaha i never beta :’)

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [shrouded]? Explain your choices if you want! beautiful stranger, by halsey; want to be missed, by hayley kiyoko. idk why but the sapphics tap into a level of gay yearning that nears divinity for me

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter? ohhh definitely my 34k DinCobb Utena AU, so far. it taught me that outlines are what drive your story, if you don’t have an outline to fish-bone off of you’re gonna have a bad time

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write? 4k-ish? max

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read? tbh my upper limit is about 30k these days. not everything needs to be 100k!

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read? this is so subjective based on the overall length of story haha but i usually only do oneshots 

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life? any cats named Rusty, parental issues, anything a character does out of Responsibility 

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life? first of all they’re fictional space DILFs, my complete and thorough opposite,

36. Do you visualize what you read/write? YES, it’s the second step in the process. step 1, VIBES. step 2, SEE IT. step 3, ATTEMPT TO DESCRIBE

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it? y’know what? i think i’ll do a couple. 1) waste not -- far as i know im the first to use the Virgin Cobb Vanth tag and you best believe i am smug as shit about that. he’s a lone wolf!! Mos Pelgo isn’t a place for him to live, it’s a place to protect!! 2) that same old song and dance -- it’s mentioned elsewhere in this post but i’ll plug it here again just because it was so much fun to write and i want people to like my dumb children

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful? salt in the wound, maybe! my first BobaCobb. i remain surprised that BobaCobb is so rare as it is, given the incomprehensibly intricate ways in which canon now binds these two together. but i think i was one of the first(ish) writers to feel like they needed their own fic space, and not just be in the background as leftovers from other pairings

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who? everyone who mentioned that outlines help them write <3

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person? ohhhh i reread. i likes my comforts foods :3 

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.” that’s what you’re good at, by ghost_teeth like.......... shit, fam.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason? ohhhhh, yes. a very sweet reader once said they liked my take on Din Djarin so much, they’d want me to write a whole novel of him TT^TT <3

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? n/a

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts? n/a

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? pacing, i think, and being willing to let go of scenes that might not entirely fit

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write? pc for sure. i can write on my phone, but i prefer a keyboard. feels like the ideas come out faster on keyboard!

47. If [da capo (or: to the beginning)] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes. the shoes you bought for an occasion that you didn’t think you’d like all that much, but are now part of your usual rotation

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? Hallmark Meeting! it’s cute and deliciously smutty

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! i’m gonna try my hand at some original long fic that i can hopefully shop around!  I don’t think. I kiss him.  Or, rather:  I tumble head-first into the sweet cavern of his mouth. By the flat of his tongue, he tucks me into the space where his top front teeth meets his soft palate and holds me there, safe and secreted. He holds me there, across my cheek, at my waist; he is the bank of my river, guiding me to flow into his lap. A blessing, his hands. Diligent, his kiss.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! there needs to be more anime in Mandalorian fic, and i mean that in ways i cannot fully articulate. like,,,,,,, not anime AUs necessarily but themes and storytelling styles and tropes more common in non-Western media

#fanfic #ask meme #questions for fic writers #dincobb #ao3 #bobacobb

[wengenn]

Hey everyone ! Welcome to Guess The Ship, the game where you have to Guess The Ship I was or still am shipping with really un-specific descriptions of the characters involved ! Let's begin !

1- A dog and a baby (yeah i didn't choose the best first but you have to start with something) (sorry for this one) 2- And angel and a demon (and everything's fine between them) 3- A bounty hunter and another bounty hunter (space) 4- A bounty hunter and another bounty hunter (cowboys) 5- A samurai and another samurai (blue and red dynamic) 6- A samurai and a doctor (pirates) (also sorry for this one) 7- A doctor and ANOTHER doctor (both are bbygirl) 8- A detective and a doctor (easy af) (more like a detective and his doctor) 9- A pirate and another pirate (and everything's fine between them) 10- A magician (druid) and another magician (probably commited war crimes) (french.) 11- A magician (werewolf) and another magician (probably commited war crimes) 12- A water guy and a light guy (very specific) (french.) 13- uuuuh french guys i can't describe like long haired dudes and one has a huge beard???? (youtube stuff) 14- Also french guys but one has long hair and the other has none (lmao) (youtube stuff) 15- smol dude and another smol dude (hobbits, actually) 16- hahahaaaa wtf is wrong with me dwarf and elf with a bow???? 17- skeletons ???? (also brothers but who cares at this point) 18- SMOL DUDE AND A DRAGON (i just remembered this one wth) 19- Knight of the round table and another knight of the round table (french, AGAIN) (same show as the druid and the magician) 20- a guitarist and a drummer 21- a bassist and a guitarist (both singers) 22- a drummer and a guitarist (lmao what ?) 23- a bassist and the lead singer (same band as the one above) 24 I stopped caring so let's throw this one there - A scientist and his grandson (uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh)

And the last one :

25- Middle. Aged. Men.

#SHIPS #SHIPS EVERYWHERE #fanfic #I swear if anyone finds ALL of them I gotta marry them #or at least #go to therapy with them

[chalkarts]

Tense moments in Tullahoma

There are some experiences that burn themselves into you. A moment in time that sears itself into your memory. A memory that from time to time glows aflame in your mind, screaming "REMEMBER ME!".

As anti-climactic as the night turned out to be, it's still one of the most intense nights on the job.

My best friend and I worked overnight security at a Waffle House in 2002(ish?). He was tall, lanky, and had a death metal vibe. I was wide, stout, and bearded like a dwarf. We looked like badasses. We were not. We waited in line for Harry Potter 4 and attended a weekly Vampire the Masquerade LARP. We were not badasses.

The reason this particular Waffle House required such lackluster security was one town over. The stretch of two-lane that passed by our WaHo connected one dusty country ass town to a dustier, though slightly less country, town.

Hick town A had a considerable Black population. Hick town B had the nearest dance club, everything else in between was cowboy whiskey halls. Every weekend night at 2 AM everyone who had made the pilgrimage to Hick Town B for healthy doses of alcohol and ass passed by the WaHo and we filled to capacity until 4am.

For the most part, the presence of security was an overreaction from a hick town WaHo owner.

We were busy, but there was rarely any kind of trouble. Sometimes words would be exchanged over the counter. We'd stand up, the rowdy customer would say, "Man, fuck this place." and leave. By the time they got to our counter, everyone was pretty partied out and just wanted something scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, and diced before they passed out.

One night, things got scary.

My buddy Ray and I were sitting by the Jukebox, on our 6th Whitesnake song because it was the only thing on the machine that didn't twang. Around 1:00 a young interracial couple came in. Cute kids, late teens, nice customers.

About 10 minutes after the kids came in, a pack of white supremacists walks in. This was before 2016. This was when White Supremacists still stayed in their holes and hadn't yet aligned with a political party. They were rare. You only saw them in prison shows and Ed Norton movies. But here they were. Six of them. Cliché tattoos and all. They sat at the bar, backs to the door. Their shirts were adorned with slogans that made a civilization cry. Ray and I looked to the Manager for some kind of silent message.

We were a little worried. We weren't worried because they were there. We weren't worried because there was an interracial couple sitting 20 feet from Nazis. What worried us was that it was 1:30. In 30 minutes our establishment would be hosting, on average, 40 young, drunk, Black men and women who live every day under the weight of the continuous oppression and sour demeanor of southern hospitality. Those men and women will open our doors and, through a haze of smoke and Hennessey, see "White Power" shouted at them six different horrible ways from the backs at the bar. It was going to get ugly. There was going to be blood. But based on the way we expected the 40 vs. 6 fight to go, we weren't sure we were going to get involved at all.

The boss came and sat with us for a moment. We had a little meeting, kind of a fight coordination. I'd get fatass on the ground, Ray would pop Dad across the nose, The kitchen was there for backup and they were ready to dive in.

We waited.

The kitchen double timed their orders in hopes of getting them out quick.

The kids got there food. They ate calmly, casting the occasional nervous glance.

The filth got their food. They ate calmly, casting the occasional hateful glance.

The filth stood up, dropped a bunch of cash, and left. It was 1:57. 5 minutes later the customary trickle of stumblers who were the definition of "Young, Dumb, and Full of Cum" came pouring in.

5 minutes.

Those hillbilly fucks were 5 minutes away from dying. I've always wondered if they meant to start shit and just chickened out or if they just got lucky and left at the right time.

Either way, the moment they left was one of the biggest reliefs of my life. I'll never forget that night, even though, in the end, Nothing happened.