Thank you so much @tmkalp for creating that wild west au 🙏 and for being ok with me making my own :D
So here, have Chase being hog-tied to a train track!
First things first(because you KNOW I gotta add a description to every image lol)
I hate that goddamn train. I'm gonna admit I traced the hell out of it and it took me hours??? It came out so ugly brooo
It's WAYY too small but not a single cell in my body is motivated to redraw it
Aight, train rant over
Buddy is supposed to be a western prostitute(the pants were supposed to be non-transparent fading into a transparent tone) because I couldn't think of any other villainess role in a western movie.
Not that I was more creative with Chase 💀
I literally just looked up 'western film female protagonist' and stole ideas off of there
Also yes, Chase is in extreme back pain
Buddy: Well hello there
Chase: *muffled insults*
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A little early for WIP Wednesday, but I've been thinking about this one for a while and it had me in a chokehold this morning. Snippet from something longer.
Alpha Bountyhunter!Price x Omega Saloon Madam!Reader
Western in the vein of Deadwood, Godless, and Silverado (thank you @thecoziestbean)
Title: I was born to run, you were born to stay (so hold me close)
CW: Violence, murder, sex work, ABO/Omegaverse, past trauma
“Are you the madam?” The timbre of his voice spoke to a memory you’ll never forget.
If you had a doubt before, thinking your eyes and your olfactory deceived you, you were sure as shit now.
“I am. And don’t bother, I know who you are. A lawman in Chicago, before the war?”
“Yeah, I was there.” As if he got the question all the time. As if he was famous or something.
“Sergeant John Price? You gunned down my daddy like he was a mad dog in the street.”
“I've killed a lot of daddies. Did he deserve it?” He licked at the foamy bubbles of beer clinging to his thick, dark mustache before wiping it with the back of his hand.
His glacial eyes fixed on yours, assessing.
“Maybe. But I sure as hell didn’t.”
His gaze slipped down to the scarf around your neck, strategically placed to muddy your scent and disguise your bitten gland.
“It's Captain now. Never met a mated whore before.” He finished his drink with a long, thirsty pull. Simultaneously changing the subject of his culpability in the wayward trajectory of your life, and daring to insult you for it.
“Widowed.” You challenged his derision with a light tone, as you replaced his empty mug with a fresh fill.
“I’m sorry, and for the offense as well. What happened to him?” He didn’t seem very sorry. In fact, you imagined it was a disposition as foreign to him as couth.
“He was shot in the face. Very tragic.” A sweet, satisfied smile graced your lips.
“You sound real tore up about it.”
“I was. The recoil on that rifle nearly dislocated my shoulder.” Your boldness was rewarded with a surprised, choking snort.
“Is there a warrant out for your arrest anywhere?” he asked, recovering with an inquisitive grin.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you. Truss me up and drag me in?” You were playing with fire, judging by the flare of hot blue light that accompanied the sharp huff of air into his nose. Like a bull chuffing at the dirt.
But you were too long in the tooth to be simpering for ornery old alphas. After what he’d done to you, it seemed only right to give him a bit of trouble.
“No, I imagine you’d just put me down all swift and quiet like, not wanting the fight.” If he was going to insult your honor, you’d give it right back.
But he didn’t rise to the bait. Not as quick to anger as that last lingering impression you had of him from years ago. Shame, it was a sight.
“Do I have to worry about you, darling?” An unsettling warmth displaced any suspicion in his words.
You glanced down at the bar top, to see just how close his hand was to yours. A tingle of electricity drawing you in against your will.
Can’t fight your nature, child. It’d been the last thing your grieving mama said to you before you were loaded onto that stock car filled with young, first heat omegas. Alongside the cattle slated for auction. Each one moaning and crying a different tune.
“Reckon you’d be a fool not to, Captain.”
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Yeehawgust 2023: Wide Open Spaces
Howdy, folks, I hope you’ll saddle up and join us for Yeehawgust’s 5th year this August!
Yeehawgust features daily art prompts as well as alternative weekly prompts, for those of us who are a bit slower on the draw. Don’t draw at all? No problem! Submit any art at all, be it illustration, comics, writing, fanfiction, photography, embroidery, sculpture, music, or whatever other creative endeavors you might enjoy. All skill levels are welcome, and this can be a great opportunity to experiment with new styles and techniques.
Whether you love canonically western media like Red Dead Redemption and Fallout: New Vegas, or you’re looking for a chance to make a cowboy AU and put your blorbos in a Stetson and spurs, this is the month for you!
Tag your work with #Yeehawgust and follow along here on the Yeehawgust blog. If you include any external links or directly tag another Tumblr user in your post (which may impact search visibility), make sure to also tag this blog or contact the mod directly so your work will get reblogged!
Check out the “Reblogging Policy and Q&A” linked on the blog for more info about Yeehawgust. The event is also Yeehawgust on Twitter and YeehawgustPrompts over on Instagram, but Tumblr is our first home.
And remember, y’all: be rootin’, tootin’, shootin’, and most importantly, be kind.
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