#I know there's a cowboy in the game and I have NO idea how that works in a fantasy-esque game and can't wait to find out

[floweryanarchy]

Your outlaw au is amazing! Since there is no magic though I imagine that perhaps the emperor approaches the group by perhaps paying random nobodies to deliver his messages (to not led a trail back to himself), acting like somewhat of a sponsor/magical godfather, be it by bribing heavy security away at the right time, setting up distractions or outright getting them invitations to events they need to enter and stealth/guns blazing it’s too risky

It works in 2 ways, one, they know The Emperor (whoever he is) wants them to succeed, and if the letters are to be believed, might want as much because he is also infected (The Act 1/2 guardian dialogue gives such an impression with the “I’m just like you”), and two, whoever it is, he’s powerful, he’s vague and definitely has some hidden agenda, dividing the group on wether to accept some of his “gifts”

Some ideas for Moonrise also! Since magical darkness is hard to translate maybe it’s the city just before a very dangerous mountain pass, it’s cold as hell, daylight lasts very little, and wild game is very scarce, meaning that to pass through you NEED to go through Moonrise and have the proper supplies, but the place is filled to the brim with sharrans (thanks Ketheric) so you either bargain with the sharrans (worst deals ever, thanks Gerringothe) or you fight (the resistance probably has stolen some resources but they need help, they aren’t in a position to be charitable)

Of course it’s your AU so honestly I’m just happy to be here!! Love me some cowboy aesthetics!

ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN.

The idea of the Emperor sending out messages anonymously and giving the group help when it’s convenient is such a great idea. I had a similar one but regarding Raphael instead, but that could also work when he gives the group a “counter offer”, claiming he has a cure for the Flayer infection. Except, Raphael would actually come in person when he offers this. (He’d also absolutely try to sway them all with the valid point they’ve never met this mysterious figure and how do they know if they’re just being used and being told empty promises. Course he’s shot down, Karlach doesn’t trust him…and Astarion actually knows Raphael. He’d get shooed away.)

I need to get the group to moonrise cuz I have SO MANY IDEAS AND THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL. Thank you for reminding me of the sharrans, thats something I wanna dip into as well.

I love hearing people’s ideas and concepts for the AU, it’s great seeing everyone have fun with it and it honestly makes my day reading these <3

[dulciechi]

i didn't even choose the song, it just started playing. i am going to be swinging my hips and skipping everywhere for the rest of the day

Chapter 19 | A Cowpoke’s Sweetheart | Cult of the Lamb

Strange things happen when you die, as it turns out.

In Hamal’s case, they drop face-first into the dirt. Blood squirts from the slash across their neck. There are two other corpses on the ground, the two bandits they managed to take with them. But not Deneb. They would feel angry about it, if they could feel anything. They hear footsteps, Deneb’s voice speaking to the two hired guns they have left, “Fan out, find him…”

With a start they remember Narinder. Their fingers dig into the dirt. Hamal strains to lift themself, but they’re too weak. I have to protect him. I have to protect…

The world goes dark.

[gf2bellamy]

i have a very self indulgent fic request in which maybe the team is at a bar or party or something and someone puts a cowboy hat on spencer and reader is like …..oh😳 bc he lowkey looks fine asf,, maybe he catches on and starts teasing her abt it or in spencer fashion hes just completely clueless to how fine he looks,,,, save a horse and all that

cowboy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: they're at a bar a/n: i was reading this request while i was walking to the train station and i literally started giggling , when i read it ! i love the idea so much <3 i hope this is what you asked for :)

You stood next to Spencer, your arms crossed as you watched him line up his shot.

The dart game had been intense—Spencer versus Derek.  

Spencer adjusted his grip on the dart, his brow furrowing slightly as he calculated the angle and force needed. You held your breath, your eyes flickering between him and the board. With a quick motion, he released the dart.

It sailed through the air and landed dead center in the bullseye. 

You immediately erupted into cheers, clapping your hands as Derek groaned loudly, throwing his head back in defeat.

Without thinking, you turned to Spencer and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. “Good job!” you said, your voice bright with excitement.

For a moment, Spencer froze, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. But then his arms wrapped around you, his hands settling lightly on your waist as he returned the hug.

When you leaned back, still smiling up at him, his hands lingered on your waist for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he looked down at you, a small, pleased smile tugging at his lips.

“Man, not again,” Derek grumbled in the background, slumping into a chair. Penelope Garcia patted his shoulder sympathetically. “There, there, big guy. Even athletes have their off days,” she teased, earning a half-hearted glare from Derek. 

 You leaned closer to Spencer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “I’m so glad you wiped that grin off his face,” you said, a playful smirk on your lips. “He’s been bragging all day about how good he is at darts. It was driving me insane.” 

 Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Glad I could help,” he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of pride.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he’d been secretly thrilled to show off a little—especially in front of you.

It wasn’t often he got to flex skills outside of his usual intellectual expertise, and the way you’d cheered for him made his chest swell with pride.

Just as the moment settled, JJ appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a mischievous grin on her face. She plopped something onto Spencer’s head before he could react.

“Winner gets to wear this,” she announced, her tone dripping with amusement as she walked away. 

Spencer blinked, reaching up to touch the object now perched on his head. “What—?” His fingers brushed against the brim of a cowboy hat, and he froze. “Is this a cowboy hat?” he asked, his voice confused.

He knew JJ well enough to know that if he tried to take it off, she’d just put it right back on him. Resigned, he adjusted it slightly, his expression shifting to one of bemused acceptance. 

You, on the other hand, were struggling to form a coherent thought.

Because Spencer Reid in a cowboy hat was… well, it was something else entirely. You stared, your mouth slightly open, as Spencer turned to you, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

 “Is it…?” he trailed off, waiting for your response. When you didn’t immediately answer, his concern grew.

You blinked, finally snapping out of your daze. “Uh, yes. Yeah, it’s a…” You paused, your eyes raking over him once more. “It’s a cowboy hat,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

You quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Spencer, still adjusting the cowboy hat, glanced around the room, his eyes landing on JJ. She was busy chatting with Derek, her laughter ringing out as she teased him about his loss. Seizing the opportunity, Spencer reached up to remove the hat, but before he could, your voice stopped him. 

 “Wait—” you stammered, your hand instinctively reaching out as if to stop him. Spencer froze, his fingers still gripping the brim of the hat, and turned to look at you.

 “What?” he asked, his voice soft. His eyes searched yours.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s just… you look… nice,” you managed to say, though your words came out in a rushed, stuttering mess. “I mean, the cowboy hat . It… it suits you.” You immediately regretted speaking, feeling your face grow even warmer under his gaze. 

Spencer blinked, clearly caught off guard by your compliment.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if he were about to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Then, slowly, a small, shy smile spread across his face. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Thank you.” 

He let go of the hat, leaving it perched on his head, and you couldn’t help but notice how his smile seemed to brighten his entire face.

You found yourself smiling back at him.

 “I mean, it’s not every day you see Dr. Spencer Reid in a cowboy hat,” you added, trying to lighten the mood and mask your own embarrassment. “It’s… kind of a good look for you.” 

 Spencer chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Well, if you say so,” he replied, his tone playful but genuine.

He adjusted the hat again, this time with a little more confidence. 

[freyito]

ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ꜰʟʏ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ inspo: BOOTHILL DAY!!!

★ summary: Boothill tends to be a little clingy when he's charging, cause he has nothing to do! C'mon, kiss him! Nothing'll happen, he promises!

✧ a/n: happy belated boothill day :')... i currently have him e5s1 but im going for e6, i might try and get s2... if you havent gotten boothill yet, may you all be boothill havers!!!!

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, short n sweet, proofread

✎ wc: 1k

Boothill has nothing to do when he’s charging, especially when he’s at home. Which should be a blessing, he doesn’t have to sit in the middle of nowhere for at least two hours. You could get him all sorts of things to keep himself occupied at home, cards, board games, pull up some old western, and he’d still complain about how bored he is.  Not to mention, he’s especially clingy. He protests if you leave his sight for a second.

You had gotten home after a long day of work, tired out and aching. Boothill was on the couch, face down, grumbling about something while charging. He just looks sooooo miserable, hair cascading over his face, messy, as if he had just woken up from a nap. He kicks his feet like a kid, the motion occupying him.

Yet when he hears you come home, his head pops up like a dog, and if he was one, his tail would be wagging. His face lights up immediately and pushes his hair to the side, running his fingers through it and petting it down to make sure he doesn’t look like too much of a mess. You don’t get a chance to complain about your day before he’s beckoning you closer, cursed by the distance between you two and his damn charging cable.

“C’mere,” Boothill’s sheepish smile is quickly replaced with that confident toothy grin you’ve come to know as home. “I’ve been soooo lonely, buttercup…”

Boothill could support you on his own easily, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life, but you still chose to work, to give you some semblance of normalcy. There was nothing wrong with some extra cash in your pocket, anyways. Even if Boothill had complained that sitting still in one place would set the IPC off on him and probably you, too. He was never home much, anyways, so you felt as if there was no need to worry.

You saunter over to Boothill, sitting down in his lap, the cowboy wrapping his arms around you near immediately. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting out a low hum of content. His hands roam your body, no idea what he was searching for, he just had the need to feel. He himself visibly relaxes as he does so, content to have you home and in his arms once more. You don’t have much to say– not that you need to– and simply enjoy the moment, watching as his hands glide from your hips to your stomach, before pulling you impossibly closer and squeezing you like you were a teddy bear.

“Missed you…” He mumbles once more, leaning over your shoulder and trailing kisses down your cheek, enjoying the warmth of human skin once more. If you were to point out how clingy he was, he’d adamantly deny the fact, yet would still find a way to get all up in your DNA.

Slowly, he trails the kisses from your cheek to your lips, and when your lips meet, sparks fly, literally. Or atleast, it feels like it. You pull away abruptly with a small ‘ow’, placing a hand over your mouth. Boothill gives you a confused and dejected look, before the lightbulb goes off in his head.

“What? Am I… electrifyin’?” He asks with a heavy voice, laden with exhaustion (can he even feel that?) and mirth. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the silly pun, and he leans in for another kiss. You try to avoid it, but he catches you, and places another shocking kiss on your lips. After several more, you manage to wrench yourself free from his grip pushing yourself off of him. “Awh, c’mon! Don’t just–”

“Nuh uh,” You shush him, crossing your arms, turning your head, and pouting. “I’ll kiss you after you finish charging.”

“Wait, c’mooon!” Boothill starts, sitting up from the couch and reaching for you. His hands graze over your shoulder, yet he was unable to move further due to the limits of his charging cable. You took one teeny tiny step back so you were just out of reach. “Don’t do this, baby! Pleaaase!”

Boothill begs you like you were breaking up with him, he’s one step away from getting on his knees and groveling for you to come back… as in step closer. He does his best to give you puppy eyes, but the most that does is unsettle you a little, the way his eye locks on with you and glowing a faint red. All you do is stand there and watch, taking another step back.

“Fudge…. c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…! Ain’t I just the sweetest?” He desperately pleads his case, as if you being in his arms is the only way he could possibly live. “I won’t kiss you ‘til I’m done charging! I swear! Just let me hold you? Pretty pretty muddle-fudgin’ please?”

His pleas fall on deaf ears as you turn on your heels to leave him whining and grumbling, deciding that you would like to make dinner. Perhaps wind down a little after work, maybe read a book… all things Boothill tried to protest, but ultimately, after ten minutes of you in the kitchen making yourself food, he finally went quiet.

When you come out of the kitchen, bowl of pasta in hand, he’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, pouting like a child. He was muttering things to himself, some that you caught which were curses, sometimes your name, and other words. When you come into the living room, he turns his head and gives you the silent treatment for once. You don’t mind this, sitting down on an armchair across from him, eating your food in silence.

Boothill can’t stay silent forever, nor can he wallow forever. Only after five minutes of you being there, he breaks, staring you down with his attempt at puppy eyes once more. Charging takes forever, and he wants to have you in his arms now. He can run on 40% battery for a little while, anyways. He unlatches the charging cable and practically runs over to you (over such a short distance…), cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“One more kiss? Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[solxamber]

Hey! Hope you're having a great day!

First time requesting <3

Could I request a male cowboy yuu with a rowdy and chaotic personality, like fears nothing and no one, and is proficient with guns, etc? With the housewardens? (Or if not allowed, then just Vil)

Housewardens x M! Cowboy! Reader

a/n: so sorry for the long wait, i hope you like it <3

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is constantly on edge around you.

He’s horrified by your reckless behavior, especially when you stroll into Heartslabyul and start shooting cans off fences for fun.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?! Guns are not toys, and rules exist for a reason!”

You respond by tipping your hat and smirking. “Reckon you could loosen up, Sheriff.”

He’ll try to collar you, but you’ve got lightning-fast reflexes and dodge every time, leaving him fuming.

Secretly, he’s impressed by your skill, but he’ll never admit it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona finds you annoying but amusing.

When you call him out with a drawl, “How’s the big bad lion doin’? Ready for a duel, partner?” he just yawns.

“You think I’m scared of you and that oversized slingshot?”

You fire a warning shot near his feet (safely, of course), and his smirk widens. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the game?”

He respects your fearlessness but finds your energy exhausting.

If you try to mess with him during his naps, he’ll pin you down and tell you, “Keep it up, cowboy, and you’ll find out what happens when you poke a lion.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is equal parts terrified and intrigued.

He sees your chaotic energy as both a threat and an opportunity.

“Mr. Cowboy, I assume you’d like to avoid the consequences of property damage? Perhaps we can negotiate…”

You just laugh. “I don’t deal with smooth-talking fellas.”

Every time you walk into the Lounge, he watches nervously, waiting for the inevitable “incident.”

However, he admires your confidence and skill. He might even offer you a contract to use your talent to benefit Mostro Lounge (if he can survive your antics).

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim adores your wild energy.

“Whoa! That was so cool! Can you show me how to spin a revolver like that?!”

He’s fully on board with your chaos, encouraging you to show off your trick shots at Scarabia parties.

Jamil is the one tearing his hair out. “Kalim, that man is a walking hazard!”

You and Kalim probably end up in some wild adventures together, like trying to tame a camel for fun.

Kalim loves your boldness, seeing you as someone who knows how to live life to the fullest.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is not impressed by your antics.

“Do you have any sense of decorum? Or are you just going to keep clomping through here with those filthy boots?”

You flash a cocky grin and twirl your gun. “Aw, c’mon, pretty boy, you know you like a bit of danger.”

He glares, arms crossed. “The only danger here is you scuffing my floors.”

Despite his irritation, he finds your unshakable confidence intriguing. He’ll begrudgingly admit you have a certain… rugged charm.

You love riling him up, just to see him flustered.

Idia Shroud

Idia is terrified of you.

“W-why is the cowboy from that survival-horror game standing in my doorway?!”

Your loud, chaotic energy is the complete opposite of his shy, reclusive personality.

“C’mon, partner, let’s hit the town! Reckon I can shoot a soda can off a rooftop.”

“N-no thanks! I value my life!”

Despite his fear, he secretly finds your confidence kind of cool. He might even watch you practice your shooting from a safe distance, muttering, “This is just like an FPS… but IRL…”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is intrigued by your boldness.

Most people fear him, but you stroll up to him like it’s nothing. “So you’re the big bad dragon, huh? Reckon I’ve tamed worse."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? You believe you could tame me?”

Your fearlessness fascinates him, and he enjoys your company despite your chaotic tendencies.

“You are… quite unique,” he muses after watching you shoot a lightning-fast trick shot.

You’d probably challenge him to a duel just for the fun of it, and he’d indulge you with a smile, finding your bravery endearing.

Masterlist

(ended up very boothill coded)

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Giddy Up, Baby

You’d been texting her all night, mostly teasing messages about how boring the game must be with her and Jordan both sidelined. She told you they were going to “stir shit up behind the bench” and you hadn’t thought much of it…until now.

The moment you hear the door open, something in the air shifts. You look up from the couch, expecting your usual Nika, smiley from the arena lights. What you don’t expect is the vision that steps through the doorway.

Your jaw actually drops.

Nika stands there in Jordan Horston’s cowboy hat…tilted low on her forehead, like she knows exactly what kind of chaos she’s walking into. The hat makes her look taller, cockier, more dangerous than usual. And she already had danger in locked down. Her long brown hair spills down her back.

She’s wearing Jordan’s cut off shirt, exposing every inch of her sculpted arms, they are glistening in the light of your apartment. Flexing as she adjusts the brim with one hand. Loose pants ride low on her hips, swaying with every calculated step.

You’re speechless.

“…What. The actual fuck” you finally breathe.

A pleased smile spreads across her face. She tips the hat with two fingers. “Evenin’, ma’am.”

That voice…low, mocking, with just enough of a southern drawl to make your thighs tense involuntarily. You clutch a hand to your chest and take a sharp breath in.

“Nika,” you stammer, eyes wide. “What are you wearing?”

She shrugs casually, stepping closer, and the smell of her…sweat and perfume and something untouchably hers…wraps around you. “Me and Jordan switched for the second half. She said she wanted to feel European. I said I wanted to feel…” Her eyes rake down your body, then back up. “…unhinged.”

Your heartbeat stumbles. “You are unhinged. Do you know what you look like right now?”

“Judging by how you’re looking at me,” she murmurs, leaning in until her mouth is right near your ear “I look like your next fucking problem.”

You swallow hard.

Her hands slide down your arms, you’re suddenly very aware of how little you’re wearing…just a tank top and sleep shorts…and how close she is. The cowboy hat tips forward slightly, shadowing her eyes and you can’t tell if it’s the smirk on her lips or the hint in her eye that’s going to destroy you first.

“You want me like this?” she asks, voice rough with challenge. “In this ridiculous get up? You like it?”

You nod so fast it’s embarrassing. “Keep the hat on.”

That pulls a growl from deep in her chest. “Say that again.”

You stare up at her, pupils blown. “Keep. The hat. On.”

The moment the words leave your lips, she’s on you…grabbing your thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing, and carrying you to the kitchen counter. Your breath catches as your back hits the marble, legs instantly wrapping around her hips.

“You have no idea what you just asked for,” she mutters against your neck.

“Then show me,” you whisper.

She kisses you hard…teeth clashing, hands rough, tongue demanding. Her fingers slide under your shirt, tugging it off with ease. The cowboy hat brushes against your forehead as she dips to kiss your collarbone, and you whimper at the feeling of it…soft and worn against your skin while her mouth leaves hot, desperate trails down your chest.

“You’re shaking,” she murmurs, smirking as her hand slides into your shorts. “You that worked up over a stupid hat?”

You nod helplessly, too far gone to feel embarrassed. “It’s you in the hat. It’s ruining me.”

That pulls a guttural sound from her throat. “Good.”

Her fingers slide into you slow at first, curling perfectly as her mouth returns to yours. She moves with intention, with experience, but tonight…there’s something feral underneath it all. Like she’s been waiting to wreck you like this. The hat stays on, tilting just enough to make her look like a dream every time she looks down at you…messy, panting, flushed.

You don’t know how she’s still holding back.

Her fingers are knuckle deep inside you now, slow but deliberate, curling up to find that spot that makes your hips jerk against the counter. You’re already soaked…have been since the moment she stepped through the door wearing that cut off, that hat, and that look in her eye.

Nika watches you unravel beneath her with a grin that’s all teeth.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, drawing back just enough to meet your gaze. “Already dripping. And I haven’t even really started.”

You moan, grasping her arm, thighs trembling around her hips. “Nika, please…”

She cuts you off with a kiss, open mouthed and rough, tongue sweeping over yours before she pulls back, her fingers never stopping their rhythm inside you.

“You begged me to keep the hat on, baby,” she whispers against your jaw, breath hot. “You don’t get to rush this.”

You whimper, burying your face in her shoulder. “You’re such an asshole.”

She laughs darkly, curling her fingers hard and making you gasp. “Yeah? But I’m your asshole. And you’re gonna fucking take what I give you.”

She pulls her hand out briefly, and you groan at the loss…but she’s just sliding your shorts off, trailing kisses down your thighs before standing tall again. She holds her slick fingers up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself.”

You part your lips, dazed, and she slides them in gently. You suck on them, eyes fluttering closed, the taste of your own arousal dizzying. She watches you like she’s memorizing the sight, then groans, yanking her fingers free and slipping them right back inside you…harder, deeper.

Your head falls back. “Fuck, Nika…oh my god.”

She leans in, cowboy hat brushing your forehead, lips ghosting over your ear. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear it. Let the neighbors know whose pussy this is.”

You can’t help it…you clench around her at the words, crying out, your hands fisting the fabric of her shirt. Her pace picks up, and now she’s fucking you with her fingers, knuckles slamming into you with every thrust, palm grinding perfectly against your clit.

“Been thinking about this all damn game,” she groans voice ragged. “Sitting there, bored as hell, imagining what you’d look like squirming for me…begging me to fuck you in this stupid fucking hat.”

You reach up blindly, gripping the edge of it, pushing it further down on her head. “Don’t take it off. Not till I cum.”

“Oh, you’re gonna come,” she promises. “You’re gonna come so hard you forget your name.”

Her other hand sneaks under your shirt…still bunched at your ribs…and tugs your bra down to take one nipple into her mouth. Her tongue flicks it once, twice, then she bites gently, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“God…Nika!”

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You’re close, so close…hips grinding down against her hand, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer. She keeps her eyes locked on yours, her face framed by the brim of that ridiculously perfect cowboy hat, and something about that image tips you over the edge.

Your body seizes up around her fingers, and you scream her name, riding out your orgasm as she slows down just enough to draw it out…milking it, watching you with satisfaction.

You collapse into her chest, trembling, legs jelly, heart pounding in your ears.

She kisses your forehead softly, cowboy hat tilting as she cups your cheek. “You okay, baby?”

You nod weakly. “That was so good it’s illegal.”

She grins, breathless. “Next time I’m wearing the hat and a belt.”

You laugh, exhausted and ruined. “Next time? Babe, I need hours.”

Nika just smirks, lifts you off the counter like nothing and carries you toward the bedroom.

“Rest up, then. I’ve got rounds to make. You wanted the hat…now you deal with the consequences.”

[rockscanfly]

Noshir Dalal's (Charles Smith's VA and the man who largely shaped Charles into the singular character that he is, found here on tumblr @noshirdalal and on Cameo [in case you have your own questions you'd like answered]) beautiful response to my cameo prompt:

Q: You’ve mentioned before that Charles likes to read. What is his favorite book? Also, you’ve talked some about cowboy poetry and how you think it’s something Charles might have connected to. Can we get a favorite poem of his in his voice?

Besides the fact that this reading of "The Men That Don't Fit In" was just plain fantastic and moving as all get out, I really admire Noshir's choice of poem.

Similar to the poem’s author and his simultaneous celebration and castigation of the prototypical outlaw, Charles always came off to me as someone who loves his fellow gang members deeply but who didn't share their illusions about themselves or how they function within the larger context of the world around them.

Charles makes several remarks throughout the game ('Unpleasant? How do you rob and kill people pleasantly?' 'All this death and for what? Just so we can have enough money to be able to run from what we've done?' 'The amount of hell we raised, we’re owed some back') that indicate a high level of self-awareness about what it is the gang ACTUALLY does and how they're perceived by the outside world. 

Arthur makes some gestures at this understanding throughout the game, but his moral musings are undercut by his inability to stand his ground against Dutch throughout the numerous acts of outright cruelty his found-father perpetuates in Chapters 4-6 (Arthur barks, but he never bites).

Arthur and John have their gripes and moans, but ultimately the two of them stick it out until the bloody end. Charles is the first person to really break free of the fate the gang is hurtling towards.

In a tragedy built on the back of it's main cast's inability to cope with a changing world, Charles is arguably the character who exerts the most agency. He makes the decision in Chapter 6--when the circumstances that once tied him to the gang have dramatically altered--to cut loose.

Because of this choice, he lives.

To me, at least, this poem--and Noshir's brilliant delivery--isn't about Charles himself. Or at least not just about himself.

Its him talking about the Van der Linde gang. Arthur and John, his second family. Wild, brilliant, bold, true, free--and gone. With nothing but graves to show for the lives they lived.

Charles isn't reciting a poem--he's reciting a eulogy.

Transcript:

Hey Rocks. Um, thank you for your patience with all of this. 

Yeah, so we know that Charles reads and I know that we’ve talked before about a scene that apparently didn’t make it into the game, where after Charles’ interaction with Micah—and you know, yeeting him across the camp—Arthur comes upon him reading a book. 

That uh, that scene affected me in a major way and I think it's probably the reason I portray Charles the way I do. 

A guy who can physically manhandle pretty much anyone at camp having the mental and emotional maturity and self-regulation—if you can’t tell I’m a new dad [laughs]—to find a way to deal with his anger that doesn’t involve acting out and breaking stuff? 

Told me a tremendous amount about Charles, especially because what I’d been introduced to was the idea that Charles was a really violent, really angry maniac. 

And I love the idea that he’s really into poetry. I like poetry a lot. Actually when I was working on that latest skin for Yone (spl?) for League of Legends, I learned from the writing team that cowboy poetry is, like, a thing. 

And so I decided to look some up. And I like to think that maybe that this is a poem that Charles would have had in that book he was reading. 

The poem is called “The Men That Don’t Fit In” by Robert W. Service. Fitting, I think, especially for Charles for a number of reasons. I hope you like it. 

[Noshir goes into Charles’ voice and recites below poem by Robert W. Service (British-born Canadian Poet, 1874-1958), published in his book Songs of the Yukon (1907)]

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far; They are strong and brave and true; But they’re always tired of the things that are, And they want the strange and new. They say: “Could I find my proper groove, What a deep mark I would make!” So they chop and change, and each fresh move Is only a fresh mistake. And each forgets, as he strips and runs With a brilliant, fitful pace, It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones Who win in the lifelong race. And each forgets that his youth has fled, Forgets that his prime is past, Till he stands one day, with a hope that’s dead, In the glare of the truth at last. He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance; He has just done things by half. Life’s been a jolly good joke on him, And now is the time to laugh. Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost; He was never meant to win; He’s a rolling stone, and it’s bred in the bone; He’s a man who won’t fit in.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows Au Pt 6

Part 5

Warning for very brief flashback implying vivisection

It is highly amusing to float to Red Robin's rooftop and see up close how intensely vigilant he's being. He looks like if a pigeon took off halfway across the city he'd fucking notice, but the ghost standing next to him and trying not to snicker goes undetected.

Poor guy. He really seems like the type to drive himself up a wall over a mystery - he's certainly been driving himself up a wall over Danny.

Danny has to force himself not to tickle the back of the guy's neck just to watch him flail.

He likes Red Robin, he really does. He didn't set out to torture the poor guy - Red did that all by himself, all Danny has been trying to do is help. 

They can't pursue him the way they have been and expect him not to try and get some entertainment out of it. It tempers the annoyance, making their obsession with finding him a game.

Danny considers the box in Red's lap.

He's been doing the same thing with each box they leave him from the beginning: grab box, open pocket dimension, yeet.

Not even Bat trackers can transmit from an entirely different plane of existence, it would seem.

And the thing Danny has discovered about having died when an entirely different plane of existence opened on top of him and merged with his DNA?

He is a pocket dimension, in a way. 

In other words, no need to expend energy to tear the fabric of reality to deposit his loot - all he needs to do is phase things into himself.

So Red will definitely notice when the box disappears from his lap and seemingly blinks out of existence, but at least he won't be seeing any neon green tears in reality open up in front of him.

That seems like a good deal to Danny.

He steps forward and reaches for the box-

NA NA NA NA NA NANA

Danny and Red Robin both curse and flail as the Ghostbusters theme rings out across the rooftop.

Red Robin nearly falls out of his lawn chair launching himself away from the sudden sound, almost dropping the lockbox in the process.

Danny frantically searches his pockets for his goddamn phone, pulls it out, has the fear of God struck into him at the idea of hanging up on Sam Manson and thus shoves it into his chest to go to voicemail somewhere where nobody can hear it ring.

In the dead silence that follows, Danny finds himself in something like a startled cowboy standoff where only one of the participants is actually visible.

Red Robin stands with feet braced shoulder width apart, lockbox in one hand and bo staff in the other. He is visibly bewildered and ready to throw hands.

He's staring at the space a little to the left of Danny's head, so at least he hadn't dropped his invisibility in panic.

Welp. No use trying to change plans now.

Danny lunges forward and grabs the lockbox, relishing in the squawk of shock and indignance Red Robin makes as it abruptly leaves his hand and blinks out of sight.

He doesn't anticipate how fast Red Robin will recover or move.

A hand wraps tightly around his wrist and jerks him back in an impressive estimation of where Danny might be occupying space.

Danny almost goes ghost right there. Not because he wants to, but because for a moment there are restraints around his wrists and ectoplasm on the table and bright lights and sharp blades and pain-

He swallows the growl that wants to well up in his throat as he turns and looks at Red Robin, teeth feeling a little too large and sharp in his mouth before he forces himself to calm down.

Red is staring him straight in the eyes despite Danny being able to see he's still invisible. Red’s hand looks to be wrapped around nothing.

“You're not going anywhere,” Red Robin says, voice low and slightly feral with the high of perceived victory. That, paired with the crooked smirk on his lips is kind of, uh- well. Hoo boy, that's all Danny has to say about that.

Well, he does have one other thing to say.

“Bet.”

The way Red Robin's face falls in disbelief when Danny phases out of his grip is nothing short of glorious. Danny's already floating off the roof and out of grabbing distance before Red finishes buffering.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Danny cackles, tossing him a salute he can't even see.

“Better luck next time, Angry Bird!”

“Son of a bitch!”

Masterpost

[yourmomsawh0r3]

cowboy hat rule

pairing: tyler owens x f! reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

Tyler had no plans to go out that night. He was perfectly content to spend the evening at home, maybe watch a game or catch up on some sleep. But his friends had other ideas. They dragged him out to a bar in town, claiming he needed a night out, and after some reluctant agreement, he found himself nursing a beer at the bar, feeling slightly out of place.

That was until he saw “her”

She was standing near the end of the bar, laughing at something her sister said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was something about the way she carried herself confidence mixed with a playful edge that intrigued him.

His friends were still talking about something in the background, but he wasn’t paying attention. All he could focus on was her. The way she moved, the way she smiled it was like she was teasing the entire room just by existing.

Tyler knew he had to talk to her. He wasn’t normally one to make the first move, but something about her made him bold. He excused himself from his group and made his way over to where she stood, leaning casually against the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

She turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Depends,” she said, her voice equally teasing. “You think you can keep up with me?”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment before nodding. “Alright, cowboy. I’m Y/N. And this is my sister, but don’t worry she’s already spoken for.”

Tyler chuckled, tipping his hat slightly. “Tyler. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

She accepted the drink he ordered for her, taking a sip while maintaining eye contact with him. There was a tension in the air, something simmering just beneath the surface, and Tyler could tell she was enjoying every second of it.

“So, Tyler,” she said, leaning in closer, “how about we play a game?”

“What kind of game?” he asked, intrigued.

“Twenty-one questions,” she replied with a smirk. “I ask you a question, you ask me one. And no lying.”

Tyler grinned. “You’re on.”

They went back and forth, asking each other everything from favorite movies to the wildest thing they’d ever done. Each question was a chance to flirt, to push the boundaries just a little further. Tyler found himself getting more and more drawn to her with every answer she gave, her wit and charm only adding to her allure.

As the night went on, the tension between them grew. Tyler could feel it the way her eyes lingered on him a little too long, the way she bit her lip when he said something that made her blush. He was getting hot under the collar, and it was clear she was feeling the same.

Eventually, she leaned over and, with a sly grin, plucked his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on her own. Tyler froze, his eyes narrowing playfully as he watched her.

“I wouldn’t do that unless you know the cowboy hat rule,” he warned, his voice taking on a husky tone.

Y/N tilted the hat down slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I know the rule, alright,” she teased. “But I’m not one to follow the rules.”

Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You know how to ride?”

She leaned in as well, her lips almost brushing against his as she whispered back, “Oh, sugar, I’ll give you the best ride of your life.”

Tyler felt the temperature in the room spike. His skin tingled, his pulse raced, and for a moment, he forgot where they were, lost in the heat between them. She was a challenge, no doubt about it, and Tyler was more than ready to see where this night would take them.

But before anything else could happen, she pulled back slightly, a coy smile playing on her lips as she adjusted his hat on her head. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, cowboy.”

Tyler grinned, shaking his head in amusement. He was hooked, and he had a feeling she knew it. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

Tyler watched as Y/N adjusted his hat one last time, her mischievous grin sending a rush of heat through him. She held his gaze for a moment longer before turning on her heel and sauntering over to where her sister was sitting.

His eyes followed the sway of her hips, each step drawing him in deeper. The way she moved was hypnotic, effortlessly seductive, and Tyler couldn’t help but be captivated by her confidence.

She leaned down to whisper something in her sister’s ear, her voice too low for him to hear. Whatever she said made her sister’s eyes widen before they both broke into knowing smiles.

Tyler leaned back against the bar, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched her. He was in no rush to leave, content to take in every last detail of her before the night was through. And from the way she glanced back at him over her shoulder, he knew the feeling was mutual.

This wasn’t over not by a long shot.

When the bar closed, Tyler asked, "Can I walk you home, Y/N?"

She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the dim bar lights. "I'd like that, Tyler. But I have a feeling walking might not be the only thing we do."

Tyler felt a spark of anticipation. He offered her his arm, and they strolled out into the cool Texas night, the stars above them twinkling like a private audience to their burgeoning romance.

They barely made it to Y/N's apartment door before Tyler's self-control snapped. He pressed her against the door, his hands cupping her face, his lips finding hers in a passionate, hungry kiss. Y/N moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Tyler's hands traced the curve of her body, his touch igniting sparks wherever it landed.

"Tyler," Y/N gasped, breaking the kiss. "Inside. Now."

Tyler grinned, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached behind her and opened the door. They stumbled inside, their lips locked, their hands exploring. Tyler kicked the door closed behind them, his hands finding the zipper of Y/N's dress. He slowly pulled it down, his knuckles grazing her spine, sending shivers down her body.

Y/N's dress fell to the floor, leaving her in a lacy bra and matching panties. Tyler took a step back, his eyes drinking her in. "Damn, darlin', you're beautiful."

Y/N smiled, her hands going to the buttons of Tyler's shirt. "You're not so bad yourself, cowboy."

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, her fingers tracing the muscles of his chest. Tyler groaned, his hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against him. "You feel that, darlin'? That's what you do to me."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire. "I want to feel more, Tyler. All of you."

Tyler growled, his hands cupping her ass, lifting her up. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Tyler carried her to the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers. He laid her down on the bed, his body covering hers.

He trailed kisses down her neck, his hands unhooking her bra, freeing her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. Y/N arched her back, her hands tangling in his hair, pressing him closer.

"Tyler, please," she gasped, her hips grinding against his.

Tyler chuckled, his hand slipping under the waistband of her panties, finding her wet and ready. "Please what, darlin'? Tell me what you want."

As Tyler settled between Y/N's thighs, his hands gently spreading her legs, he looked up at her with a mischievous grin. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in anticipation. "More than ready, Tyler."

Tyler chuckled, his breath warm on her sensitive flesh. "Good, 'cause I've been dyin' to taste you all night."

He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to tease her clit. Y/N gasped, her hips lifting off the bed. Tyler hummed in approval, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place as he began to lick and suck, exploring every inch of her pussy.

"Tyler," Y/N moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. "That feels so good."

Tyler looked up at her, his eyes heated. "You taste fuckin' amazing, darlin'. Like the sweetest candy I've ever had."

He buried his face between her thighs, his tongue delving deep inside her, lapping up her juices. Y/N cried out, her body writhing as Tyler devoured her, his tongue working magic on her clit.

"You're so wet, baby," Tyler growled, his fingers joining his tongue, fucking her slowly. "I could spend all day down here, eat your pussy until you can't take anymore."

Y/N whimpered, her orgasm building with each thrust of Tyler's fingers, each flick of his tongue. "I'm close, Tyler. So close."

Tyler groaned, his tongue circling her clit. "Come for me, Y/N. Come all over my face."

And with a final lick, Y/N tumbled over the edge, her body convulsing as she came, her cries of pleasure filling the room. Tyler continued to lick and suck, drawing out her orgasm until she was a boneless, quivering mess.

As Tyler resurfaced, his face glistening with Y/N's arousal, he grinned up at her, his dimples on full display. "Damn, darlin', you taste even better than I imagined."

Y/N, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving, looked down at him with hooded eyes. "And you're pretty good with that tongue of yours, cowboy."

Tyler chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I aim to please, ma'am.”

Tyler's hand, still slick from Y/N's arousal, grasped his hardening length, stroking it slowly as he looked down at her. "You see what you do to me, darlin'? You make me so hard, I could fucking explode."

Y/N bit her lip, watching him with hooded eyes. "I want you to fuck me, Tyler. Hard and deep. Make me scream your name."

Tyler growled, positioning himself at her entrance. "You sure about that, sweetheart? Once I start, I ain't stopping until I've filled you up with my cum."

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as Tyler slowly pushed into her. "Yes, Tyler. Fuck me."

Tyler groaned as he sheathed himself fully inside her. "Fuck, you're so tight, darlin'. Like a fucking glove." He started to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching her with each stroke.

Y/N's hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he filled her completely. "More, Tyler. Faster."

Tyler obliged, his pace increasing, his cock slamming into her with more force. "Like that, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you hard?"

Y/N moaned, her body arching to meet his thrusts. "Yes, Tyler. Just like that."

Tyler reached between them, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. "Come for me, Y/N. Come all over my cock."

Y/N's body tightened, her orgasm building. "Tyler, I'm close. So close."

Tyler's thrusts became erratic, his own release building. "Come on, darlin'. Let me feel you milk my cock."

Y/N's body shattered, her orgasm ripping through her as Tyler slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot cum.

They lay there, Tyler still inside her, their bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. Tyler looked down at Y/N, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You okay, darlin'?"

Y/N smiled up at him, her fingers tracing the lines of his tattoos. "Better than okay, Tyler. That was...incredible."

Tyler chuckled, his cock twitching inside her. "We're just getting started, sweetheart. There's plenty more where that came from."

As they lay there, their bodies cooling and their breaths evening out, Y/N stirred slightly. She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at Tyler with a soft smile. His eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a warm gaze.

"Hey, you," he murmured, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey," she replied, her smile growing wider. "I was just thinking... are you hungry?"

Tyler chuckled, his stomach rumbling in response. "Now that you mention it, yeah, I could eat."

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I thought so. I don't know about you, but all that... exercise always makes me hungry."

Tyler grinned, pulling her down for a quick kiss. "Me too, darlin'. Me too."

She pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Before she could leave the room, Tyler called out softly, "Hey, where are you going?" Y/N paused, looking back at him with a smile. "I was going to order us some pizza. My fridge is as bare as my bank account right now," she laughed, leaning against the doorframe.

Tyler grinned, patting the bed beside him. "Come here, let's do that together." Y/N walked back to the bed, crawling in beside him and snuggling close. She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the pizza app icon. Tyler, however, noticed something first. "Hey, what's this?" he asked, pointing at the lock screen of her phone.

Y/N looked down, her cheeks flushing slightly as she saw the picture. It was her, grinning widely with her arms wrapped around the neck of a beautiful chestnut horse. "Oh, that's just me and my horse, Clover," she said, as if it was no big deal.

Tyler, however, was intrigued. He pushed away loose strands of her hair, his eyes soft as he looked at her. "You have a horse?" he asked, his voice filled with surprise and something else admiration? "Why didn't you tell me that?"

Y/N shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "It never came up, I guess. I've had Clover for years. She's like family to me." She looked back at Tyler, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "But I'll tell you all about her over pizza, if you want."Y/N looked up from her phone, a small frown on her face. Tyler shakes his head. "What do you mean? I was going to pay for it. she says

Tyler shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "No way, darlin'. I'm paying for dinner."

"But I don't mind paying," Y/N insisted, holding onto her phone.

Tyler reached out, gently prying the phone from her hands. "I know you don't, but I want to. Consider it my way of saying thank you for a great night."

Y/N bit her lip, considering his words. She knew better than to argue with him when he had that determined look in his eyes. "Alright," she finally conceded, "but next time, it's on me."

Tyler grinned, pulling her into his side. "Deal," he said, before leaning down to kiss her. He quickly added his credit card information to the order, pressing 'submit' before Y/N could change her mind. "There," he said, handing the phone back to her, "all taken care of."

Y/N smiled, leaning into his embrace. "You're too sweet, you know that?"

Tyler chuckled, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "Only for you, beautiful."

After devouring their large pizza, which Y/N had insisted they both eat, they collapsed onto the bed, sighs of satisfaction escaping both their lips. "I could eat that every night," Tyler said, smiling up at her.

"Totally agree," Y/N replied, snuggling up close to him.

They talked for a bit more, sharing stories of Y/N's childhood growing up on a farm and about her beloved horse, Clover. Tyler listened intently, his eyes filled with wonder and interest. It was clear he was thoroughly enthralled by the thought of her horse, the way she spoke of her with such love and passion.

As the talk went on, they noticed how late it had become, the room growing dimly lit. "Well, I think it's getting pretty late," Y/N said, her voice a little softer now. “We should probably get to bed."

Tyler nodded in agreement, though he showed no signs of moving away from her. "You're right," he murmured, his arms still wrapped around her. "But I don't really feel like moving right now."

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart filling with warmth. She didn't feel like moving either. So instead, they just sat there, holding each other close, the only sounds their gentle breathing and the creaking of the bed as they shifted against each other.

After a few moments of silence, they both knew it was time to clean up. They went about washing their faces, brushing their teeth, and making their way back into the bedroom. The atmosphere had changed slightly, a hint of intimacy now woven through the air.

Without needing to say a word, they snuggled back into bed, curling up together once more. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, the comfortable darkness enveloping them both.

As they drifted off to sleep, Y/N smiled softly, feeling like this was exactly where she belonged in Tyler's arms, surrounded by warmth and comfort.

tyler whispers to her "Now, about that cowboy hat rule..."

Y/N's hands went to his chest, pushing him back slightly. "Oh, I remember. But I have a rule of my own."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

Y/N smirked, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. "When I'm on top, you have to keep that hat on."

Tyler laughed, his hands going to her ass, pulling her close. "Deal. But only if you promise to give me the ride of my life, darlin'."

Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Like I said earlier, honey, I'll give you the best ride of your life."

Tyler groaned, his hands squeezing her ass. "Fuck, Y/N. You keep talking like that, and I won't last."

Y/N pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then we'd better get started, hadn't we?"

Tyler quickly shed his shirt, his chest bare and taut. Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, her eyes trailing over the ridges of his abs and the light smattering of hair that led down to his waistband. She reached out, running her fingers over his skin, feeling the heat of him. Tyler's breath hitched at her touch, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're playing with fire, darlin'," he warned, his voice low and husky.

Y/N smirked, "Maybe I like the burn," she repolied

Tyler groaned, his eyes dropping to take in the sight. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, stepping out of her jeans and pushing him back onto the bed. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, her hands going to the brim of his hat. "No killing allowed," she said, tipping the hat back so she could see his face. "Just some good old-fashioned fun."

Tyler's hands went to her hips, holding her in place as he lifted his own hips, pressing his erection against her through his jeans. "Fun, huh?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I can do fun."

Y/N gasped, her head falling back as she grinded against him, feeling the friction through their clothes. Tyler took the opportunity to lean forward, capturing one of her nipples through the lace of her bra, sucking and biting gently. Y/N moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her.

Tyler's hands moved to her back, unhooking her bra with ease. He pulled back, allowing the material to fall away, leaving her bare to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his hands reaching up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

"Tyler," Y/N gasped, her hips moving of their own accord, seeking friction. "Please."

"You sure you can handle all this, darlin'?" Tyler asked, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/N licked her lips, her eyes meeting his. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she replied

After a series of kisses and gentle caresses, Y/N climbed on top of Tyler, her hands reaching down to grasp his hips. She rubbed her wetness against his cock, and Tyler moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Mmm, yeah," he breathed, his hands moving up to grasp her hips.

Y/N leaned in closer, whispering in his ear. "I could get used to that sound," she said, her voice low and husky. "It's music to my ears."

Tyler chuckled, his eyes snapping open to look at her. "You're trying to make me come," he accused, his hands tightening on her hips.

Y/N smiled, her hips moving in slow, deliberate strokes. "Maybe I am," she replied, her voice teasing. "Maybe I just want to see you happy."

Tyler's eyes locked onto hers, his expression soft and sincere. "You make me happy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her cheeks flushing with warmth. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "I want to make you come," she whispered, her voice full of desire. "I want to hear you moan my name."

Tyler's eyes widened, his body tensing beneath hers. "Yeah," he breathed, his hands grasping her hips tighter. "Yeah, do that."

And with that, Y/N leaned in, her lips trailing down the side of Tyler's face, her hands moving down to grasp his cock, her hips moving in time with her hand, the sound of her wetness against his cock filling the air.

Y/N leaned forward, her lips brushing against Tyler's ear. "I'm going to give you the best ride of your life," she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

Tyler moaned, his hands tightening on her hips. "I can already tell you're going to be an amazing girlfriend," he growled, his eyes fixed on her face.

Y/N grinned, her body moving against his. "yeah? ," she teased, her hips slowly sliding backwards, her wetness leaving a trail along his cock.

Tyler moaned again, his eyes falling to her breasts as they bounced with each movement. "You feel so good, Y/N," he muttered, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples.

Y/N gasped, her body arching as his hands touched her. "I'm ready for you," she panted, her hips lifting and lowering, her body teasing his cock.

"Good girl," Tyler moaned, his hands gripping her hips tighter. "You're such a good girl."

And with that, Y/N finally sank down on him, her body enveloping his cock in a hot, wet embrace. "Ah," Tyler groaned, his eyes closing as he felt her tightness wrapped around him.

Y/N moaned, her hands grasping his shoulders, her body moving up and down on his cock in slow, deliberate strokes. "Mmm, this feels so good," she panted, her breasts bouncing with each movement.

Tyler opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on Y/N's tits as she bounced on his cock. "You look so beautiful," he breathed, his hands moving up to grasp her hips. "Ride me like that, Y/N."

Y/N grinned, her body moving faster, her hips thrusting down harder. "I'm riding you," she panted, her voice full of desire.

Tyler moaned, his hands tightening on her hips. "Keep going, Y/N. Keep riding me."

And with that, Y/N continued to ride Tyler's cock, her body moving faster and harder, her eyes fixed on his face. Here is the revised paragraph:

Tyler's cock throbbed with anticipation as he gazed at Y/N's enticing body, her curves glistening with sweat. He knew he couldn't resist her any longer. "Come here, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I need you now."

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She slid closer to Tyler, her body gliding across the bed as she reached out to touch his chest. "I'm clean, Tyler," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing. "I'm on birth control. You can come inside me."

Tyler's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze burning with intensity. He knew this was it, the moment he'd been waiting for. With a low growl, he pushed himself deep inside Y/N, feeling her warm, wet walls envelop him. He began to thrust, his movements powerful and urgent, as Y/N's moans filled the air.

As they moved together, their bodies slick with sweat, Y/N reached down to scoop up their combined juices. She brought her hand to her mouth, moaning as she tasted their mingled essence. Then, she slid her finger back into her entrance, coating it with their shared fluids.

Tyler watched, transfixed, as Y/N brought her finger to his mouth. He sucked it in, feeling the warm, sticky liquid coat his tongue. "Fuck, you're perfect," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with happiness. She knew this was what she'd been waiting for, the moment when they could finally be together, their bodies and hearts entwined. And as they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, she knew that this was only the beginning of their journey together.

And as they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined, they knew this was just the beginning of many more incredible rides to come.

[lulunothulu]

“Phone neighbor”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You’re bored one night and decide to text your phone neighbor…who happens to be a very hot (and cocky) aviator.

Content: drinking, fluff

Friday nights are so boring. Especially when you have nothing to do for the night.

Your friend, Natasha, invited you to go to the bar she and her aviator buddies frequent. Hard Deck, was that the name? Who knows. Either way, you didn’t think hitting a bar right now would do you much good.

You’d been in a reclusive and lonely mood all week but right now, you were feeling adventurous.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the first nine digits of your number but changed the last number to the following one that came after yours.

Let’s play a game of phone number neighbor.

You: Hi, so this is random, but you’re my number neighbor.

Them: Oh really?

You: Yes… so you’re from Texas too?

Them: Born and raised in Austin.

You: That’s so cool, I was raised in El Paso and Houston.

Them: Nice! Are you still there?

You: Nah, I’m in California. How about you?

Them: Funny enough, I’m in California too. I’m in the Navy, a pilot 🤠

You: Oh shit! You might know my friend, Natasha Trace.

———

Jake smiled down at his phone. “Hey Phoenix!”

Nat turns around, rolling her eyes at him. “What?”

“I think I just met your friend.”

“What?” She looks around. “Where? And who?”

“I don’t know their name, let me ask,” he says. He looks down at his phone, sending a quick text before smiling and telling her your name.

“Holy shit!” She laughs.

“Is she single?” Jake asks.

“She is actually…give me a second.”

———

“Hello?” You say, answering your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nat asks.

You can hear the noise and chatter coming from the bar you knew she’d be at.

“I’m at home doing a face mask,” you tell her.

“No I mean, with Hangman,” she tells you.

“Who’s Hangman?”

“The person you’re texting?” She laughs.

Hangman: So you know Phoenix? How?

You: We grew up together. She’s practically my sister.

“Hey, he’s texting me right now,” you tell her.

“I have an idea.”

Hangman: What do you look like?

You: I’ll send you a picture of you send me one too.

Hangman: What? You want proof?

You: Sure, let’s call it that.

Hangman: [Picture]

Hangman: I’m on the left, that’s Bob in the middle, and Fanboy on the end.

Hangman: Your turn.

You smile, sending him a picture of you with your green face mask, hand up in a peace sign and lips in a duck face position.

Hangman: That’s not what I expected but still hot.

Hangman: Wait a second… did Nat call you?

You: Maybe…

[Incoming call from ‘Hangman’]

“Hello?”

“Hey, mask lady. Nat!” You hear him say. His voice is deep and southern drawl thick. “Tell your friend to send me a real picture of her.”

“Y/N?” You hear her say.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Send this pretty boy your face. He’s desperate and threatening to make me drive him to your house.”

You laugh. “Fine. Should I send the one with my tits pushed up?”

“Jesus Christ, tell her yes.” You hear Hangman say in the background.

“Tell him that I’ll send him a normal one and to stop listening to our conversation,” you tell Nat. “Actually, pass him back.”

“Hi,” you hear Hangman say.

“Hi back, cowboy,” you reply.

“I like that nickname, makes me sound a lot cooler than I am,” he tells you.

You laugh. “I’d like to know your real name, and not your callsign.”

“I’m Jake. Jake Seresin,” he tells you. “You don’t have to tell me your name. I already know.”

“Yeah I figured that much,” you mutter.

“When can I see you in person?” He asks.

“When are you free?” You smile and bite your lip.

“How about now? Come to Hard Deck.”

“I don’t really do bars…”

“Then I’ll come to you. What’s your address?”

You laugh. “I don’t even know you like that. What if you’re a psycho?”

“I wouldn’t be a top pilot in the navy sweetheart.” You chuckle, making him wait before he asks, “Soooo can I come over?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not really,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can come over. But bring food, I’m starving.” You tell him.

“Same,” he tells you. “And it’ll give you enough time to get ready and wash that face mask off.”

Fuck I forgot about that.

“I’ll see you soon.”

———

A face wash, makeup application, and teeth brushing later, you hear Hangman—Jake—ring the doorbell.

After changing into some cute sweats, you run downstairs and answer the door.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey yourself,” he says. He’s a lot taller than you thought he’d be. And a lot hotter than you thought too. He holds up a bag of takeout and a gym bag. “I brought food and a change of clothes.”

He’s wearing his khaki Aviation uniform still.

“Yeah, come on in.” You step to the side, allowing him to come in. “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles.

God his smile made him so much hotter.

When he comes back from the bathroom changed and in gray sweatpants and a Texas Longhorns shirt, you smile and wave him over to your couch.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Nothing that the moment,” you tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

“How sweet.” He smiles. “This has to be the best first date I’ve a been on in a long time.”

“Who said this was a date?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, did I assume?” He cockily smirks at you which makes your cheeks turn red. “And from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you’d like this to be a date.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile playing on your lips.

Two hours later, Jake is still at your place and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That was a cute movie,” he tells you. “Why did I cry so much?”

“Because Toy Story 3 is ruthless,” you sigh, wiping your eyes.

“Either way, I don’t think I can sleep if we don’t watch something else.”

You sit up and face him. “Why? You too sad to leave?”

“No, I don’t want to leave yet,” he says truthfully. “Plus, it’s my turn to choose a movie.”

“Which is?”

“Legally Blonde.”

You smile, scoffing before laughing and shaking your head. “You surprise me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Can I surprise you one more time?” He asks, voice barely over a whisper.

You shrug and smirk. “Depends on what it is.”

He places a hand on your cheek, snaking his fingers to the back of your neck.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“That counts as a question,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “That one doesn’t count.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in close to the point his nose touches your own. Your heart is pounding, excitement and anticipation flowing through your body.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

So he does, soft and sweet at first. That is, until you pull his head in, deepening the kiss. Your mouths race, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouths. You shift your body, straddling Jake’s lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, something you notice feels so normal, you don’t want it to end.

“Take me upstairs.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.”

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Big strong cowboy loves when little reader takes charge in bed 🤤

Hell yes Twola!!! 🔥 Also, I know that you and I have a thing for Modern Arthur lately, so idk I just went for a good "fucking in the car after a baseball game" kind of thing. Hope you'll like it! It's an honor to answer your ask💓I'm very happy to be able to return the favor after having consumed so many of your fics!

Arthur's palms feel huge on your waist.

He knows he shouldn't love it that much, but the way your body felt and looked next to his, under his, over his, so small, so light and soft, it had always made all his blood rush to his cock since the very begining.

Just like right now, the both of you inside his truck, messily parked on top of a hill where you both were supposed to eat and enjoy the view of the city at night after an important game of his. The sparkles from it still shine in the darkness, unaware of the sinful thing you're doing to him instead. 13 to 2, he well deserved it after all. You have him lie back on both the seats, shirtless, as you climb and sit on his lap, removing your clothes one by one as he watches, mesmerized. You don't even reach the ceiling of his truck, when he is crunched to fit inside. He feels his shaft pulse at the thought.

"Jesus, you're so goddamn gorgeous, darlin'."

"You like having me on top, don't you?"

"More than I can admit."

Your hand slide between the both of you and takes care of his pants, fishing out his veiny and blood-gorged cock outside his clothes, and he hisses at how you handle him that well, delicate and petite fingers wrapped around him and guiding him like this. Oh, how he loved it, the way pull your own pantie to the side, and rubb your wet folds against his cockhead, sending shivers of need everywhere through his body, his own fingers pressing into your waist in return, showing just how much he needs you.

"Say you want it…"

"I want it. God, I need it baby."

He's almost desperate for it. With a satisfied grin, you push your hips down on him, his shaft finally penetrating your tight inside, and he grunts loudly, unable to stop himself. "Fuck, yeah," he shakily exhales, brow crunched in a delightful expression of pleasure.

It's already so good, and it's out of this world as you start to ride him good and proper, just like he likes it, hips up and down, in long, almost torturous movement, your pussy letting him go then welcoming him again fully everytime. And he lets you handle him just like you want to, because for once, he's being taken cared of. That idea alone almost has him spill inside of you.

His limits are tested another time as you speed up your pace, one hand taking support on the dashboard, the other on his chest, looking so tiny on the immensity of his hairy torso. His breathing is turning into deep moans and grunts only you can pull out of him.

It's a few more intense moves from you, breasts bouncing, making your ass slapp against his balls, beautiful and perfect small body pleasuring him so fast and he's a panting mess, mouth open and eyes closed until he finally finishes deep, pulling you all against him and envelopping you whole with his two enormous and strong but tired arms, mumlbing another "fuck" with that hoarse, spent voice.

[burreauxsss]

another year older

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest)

synopsis: after the win against the chargers and the win against the cowboys joe's birthday comes up and so does talks about them clinching the division, and travis talks crap so he gets gagged by no other than yn.

notes: i lied about taking a break... anyways my ex friend just launched her and my ex on her socials.. bby you can have ‘it’

warning: this is a au/ alternative universe. meanin the bengals are 13-1 rn.

bengals

❤️ 54,866 💬 713

Liked by: nfl yn.handle and others

bengals: ¡Ay, caramba!

username_1: caption though?

username_2: new kicker did that.

nfl: tough caption.

*load more comments*

yn.handle 📍dallas tx

❤️ 390,412 💬 3,129

Liked by: skims joeyb_9 and others

yn.handle: night out 🐅 with skims

joeyb_9: need 🐅

username_3: not the print bodysuitttt

username_4: joes comment has me in slight shock

username_5: its because hes the birthday boy 😭

*load more comments*

heismantrophy

❤️ 35,916 💬 87

Liked by: joeyb_9 lsufootball and others

heismantrophy: happy birthday to lsu tiger, 2019 recipient joe burrow!

username_7: happy birthday?

username_8: best heisman OAT.

username_9: its been so long.

*load more comments*

lsufootball

❤️ 116,166 💬 135

Liked by: nfl heismantrophy and others

lsufootball: 5 years ago, joe burrow rewrite the history books with the most dominating win ever. happy birthday joe.

username_10: the goat!

username_11: best era.

username_12: ringless fraud

username_13: geaux!!

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 116,166 💬 135

Liked by: nfl yn.handle and others

bengals: wishing joe a very happy birthday!!

username_14: how old is this man again? username_15: 28.

username_16: our qb!

username_17: finest qb ever.

*load more comments*

yn.handle

❤️ 285,124 💬 14,189

Liked by: joeyb_9 bengals and others

bengals: happy happy birthdey to my #1 person in my entire world. i love you so so much, cheers to another year mi amor. 🤍

joeyb_9: love you more 🧡

lahjay_10: shiesty being soft.. you cracked the code.

username_18: my favorite couple.

username_19: the hand?

bengals: who dey!

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: yn.handle birthday cake

nfl

❤️ 1m 💬 29,148

Liked by: bengals chiefs and others

nfl: if the the nfl regular season ended today, the bengals would be the #1 AFC seed.

username_20: who dey!

username_21: mvp burrow.

username_22: chiefs aint slick.

username_23: he has the hottest girl i swear.

*load more comments*

yourbsf posted a story

caption: yalls favorite wag yn_handle

yn.handle

❤️ 240,107 💬 4,184

Liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 skims cartier and others

yn.handle: skims custom with cartier.

username_24: THE SHADE???

username_25: i love y/n.

joeyb_9: mind to share with the class about who gave you the custom idea?

traviskelce: dating a small handed fraud isnt my fault.

yn.handle: some things shouldnt be smaller than his hand. and you know what i mean. traviskelce

username_26: MY JAW DROPPED. SHE GAGGED HARD.

username_27: wife her up shiesty.

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 61,041 💬 193

Liked by: joeyb_9 lahjay_10 and others

bengals: music city.

username_28: lock in.

username_29: the cartier shades???

username_30: who dressed joe today.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: hello tennessee 🤠

bengals

❤️ 35,205 💬 101

Liked by: yn.handle nfl and others

bengals: sweet sound!

username_31: we almost clinching the entire berth.

username_32: i know travis punching a wall being a #3 seed right now.

username_33: who dey!

username_34: our defense made them look like a top 3 offense.

*load more comments*

nfl

❤️ 159,273 💬 401

Liked by: bengals espn sportscenter and others

nfl: if the bengals win their next divisional game at the browns (12/22) or steelers (1/4) , the bengals can clinch the the #1 spot.

username_35: joe acting like its 2019 again...

username_36: thats shiesty, not joe.

username_37: thats easy. clinched.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: fit 🏈

yn.handle

❤️ 159,273 💬 401

Liked by: joeyb_9 skims and others

yn.handle: classless exes.

username_38: miss girl 🫢

username_39: the bodyy??

username_40: why is she showing her body.. username_41: shes not comparing. she never reposts revealing stuff rarely.

username_42: that 2 piece though. i know joe is going insane.

*load more comments*

notes: i told you itll be longer.

[burrowdarling]

Celebrating You

Summary: The Bengals had beaten the Cowboys on the eve of Joe's birthday, so what better way to welcome him home than a birthday surprise.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, MDNI

Note: Hi! Happy Belated Birthday, Joe!! I hope you all enjoy, and love that we get to appreciate this man and everything he does!

Word count: 1.9k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9

Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

It had been weeks since this feeling, but they did it. The Bengals had beat the Cowboys and even though the win wasn’t pretty, a win is still a win. To finally see a smile plastered all over Joe’s face at the end of a game, the feeling you felt was indescribable. Joe had been beating himself up so much over the past few weeks, it was refreshing to see him celebrate with Ja’marr and the rest of the team. The two of them smashing donuts on each other's faces was priceless. Those would be the kinds of pictures and videos you’d look back on and smile. 

You could tell by the post game antics that Joe seemed to be in a good mood, a weight seeming to be off his chest during the post-game interview. It also meant that he would have a good travel day home, feeling yourself getting excited to see him at the thought. You wished you could've been there to celebrate with him properly on the eve of his birthday with this win, but you weren’t able to attend due to work. Joe understood entirely, though he wished the same.

This also gave you an idea on how you could spend your time before welcoming him home, wanting to go all out in every way possible to show your man you loved him. You wanted to take the opportunity to do something nice for him as both a post game win and something for his birthday. Having the day off for his birthday, you locked in for the rest of the night after the game on how exactly you wanted to celebrate your favorite person. You texted him a sweet birthday message at midnight Cincinnati time, knowing he would be fairly busy after the game. You were surprised when you heard your phone chime so quickly after, knowing it was Joe by your special text tone.

Thank you baby, I wish I could be there to spend the night with you. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough xx love and miss you loads

You smiled to yourself as you typed out a reply, setting your phone back aside for the night. You had a lot of work to do if you were going to do this right. 

You woke up bright and early the next morning, despite your late night of planning, to get a head start on the decorations you came up with. You wanted him to be surprised when he walked through the door. You loved birthdays as a way to celebrate your favorite people, giving them extra attention on their special day. Your love language was definitely gift giving and quality time, your cup being filled by showing others how much you loved them.

The first thing he would notice would be the ‘happy birthday Joey’ banner on the wall, having taken the time to make your own letters and string them up. You blew up some balloons and scattered them around the table downstairs along with some streamers. You went for the cheesy, massive ‘28’ balloons too for the fun of it. When you felt satisfied with how things were looking, you started to put together the gifts you had gotten him. You saw something about a gift for each of the five senses and figured that would be a great idea to really show him how much you care. For the man who could have anything he wanted, he wasn’t always the easiest to shop for.

For taste, you wanted to go the simple route and make something from scratch. You decided you’d make him his favorite dish so that way he could come home to a nice homemade meal, finishing with his favorite dessert. You’d already had this plan and had gone to the store over the weekend so you got to work on everything early. Luckily, you’d be able to let it cook while getting everything else ready.

For touch, you went with a couple different things having a hard time deciding on just one. You went for a sweater he’d been eyeing, excited to see him in it. You also went for a Lego set he’d been raving about. You always found it absolutely adorable when he’d get so excited over the nerdiest little things. It was something you absolutely loved about him. It brought out the energy in him that you didn’t see a lot during the season, knowing he had to be locked in each week with his rigorous schedule. 

Hearing was a tricky one as you weren’t really sure where to go with it. It was one you had to put some thought into and would maybe go with an experience instead of a thing. You had a couple different ideas for events in mind, figuring you could present him with some options based on his schedule and let him choose. Going out together wasn’t something you guys were able to do often due to the lack of privacy, but it was something you cherished when you could. 

For smell, you got him a refill on his favorite cologne. As weird as it sounds, his smell was something that you’d always found insanely attractive. It was a comfort thing for you too when you’d come home from a long day at work and just envelop yourself in his warmth, getting lost in the smell of him. 

For sight, you decided to be a little self-centered and make yourself a gift to him. It may be unoriginal, but you knew he wouldn’t mind. You went out shopping that morning to go and find the perfect set for him, something new and something he wouldn’t be able to resist you in. After the stress of the past few days, you knew he would need a stress reliever and you had just the thing in mind.

You’d also totally set the mood by lighting candles throughout the downstairs as well as scattering rose petals that led to the bedroom. On the table, you placed all of his gifts as the last touch, finally having them all set and labeled accordingly. All you had to do now was wait for him to arrive, having gotten a text from him saying that he landed and would be home soon.

When you heard the garage door open and shut, you got yourself into position. You sat up on the counter, the light low with the candles giving off a soft glow to the room. He walked in through the door, kicking off his shoes and calling out for you when he stopped short. His voice cut off at the sight of you, done up in your lace slip.

“Happy birthday Joey” you spoke, your voice low.

Without a word, he walked over to where you were sitting on the counter, moving your legs so he could slot himself between them to bring you into a bear hug. You giggled as he held you tight, almost as if he was scared you were going to disappear out of thin air.

“Thank you, baby. You didn’t have to do all of this for me” he said, almost in disbelief as he took in your decorations scattered around his place. The thought that you would go through all of this for him, knowing he hasn’t been as pleasant or as positive as he could be with you.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. What better way to celebrate my favorite person than to show him how much he means to me” you replied, voice laced with nothing but love and adoration for the man in front of you.

He brought you into a deep kiss, feeling the words he couldn’t quite get past his lips in the way yours moved together in sync.

“I know I haven’t been the best to you the past few weeks and that’s all on me. Everything has just been so heavy, this is the lightest I’ve felt in weeks. Thank you for making me feel so special” Joe professed, a slight blush becoming evident on his cheeks as he spoke. He tucked his head into your neck as a means of solace from his confession.

“I know you’re doing all that you can, it’s what I signed up for when I chose to be with you. I know things have been tough recently, but I am so damn proud of you and your perseverance with the team to not stop fighting. Your ability to get back up when things get hard is something I truly admire about you, Joey. You’re one of my inspirations to always go after what I want to achieve and not let what other people say about me define my feelings. So with all of that said, Happy fucking Birthday and congratulations on your win Joey” you said, hoping he was taking in every word and its full meaning.

Joe didn’t reply, just rested his forehead against yours and took a minute to be there with you, letting everything settle in his chest. The knowledge that you would be there for him through everything and anything, you were it for each other and it was extremely rare that he found someone as grounding as you to be his girl. When he pulled back, he took in your attire, or how little of it there was.

“All new just for me?” Joe questioned sweetly, fingers softly gliding over the material and settling his hands on your hips. His shift in the conversation to something he knows he can convey to you without needing the words to do so.

“Mhm, this is only one of many gifts. C’mon I have them all plan out for you, one for each of the senses.” You spoke excitedly.

You moved to hop off of the counter, but Joe blocked your exit. Confused, you looked at him with as innocent a look in your eyes as you could muster. When they met, you could see him darken at the sight, wondering what thoughts could be floating around in his head.

“Do we think those can wait? I haven’t seen my girl in days and there’s only one thing on my mind right about now” Joe said with a noticeable drop in his voice, as one of his hands slid to the back of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

“But the food will be cold” you pleaded with minimal effort, knowing your excuse was useless against the lustful look in his eyes. It had heat rushing to your core and your mind racing at a million miles an hour.

“I bet it’ll taste delicious, but there’s something I want to taste more. You can’t just be sitting up here looking as sexy as you do and expect me not to take you first. You’re all I've thought about the entire trip home and the only thing I want to do right now is get you out of this and under me” Joe groaned, hands moving under you to lift you off the counter. You laughed, holding on from the sudden shift in position. 

He followed the petals to the bedroom where he took his time showing you how much he cared, both of you receiving gifts for all five senses.

[tacitusk1llwhore]

Don’t cancel me for this, y’all, but I’ve seen a lot of politically charged posts about RDR (as I should; games about outlaws and the corruption of big and small government are and always will be inherently political), but one thing has really bothered and stuck out to me the most, especially in male-dominated spaces in the fandom. The idea that the Arthur Morgan in this day and age would be a raging MAGA conservative—I’ve gotten so, so many posts about it on my TikTok today, and this is finally me snapping. Here are a few arguments I’ve heard for this. “When he hears that the Democrats want to take his guns, he’d say hell no to that.” “He’s from 1899; you really think he would vote for a Black woman?” And my personal favorite: “Arthur says in-game he doesn’t engage in politics.” I’m not going to go through each of these and explain, in detail with evidence from the games themselves, why I think these are the dumbest takes I’ve ever heard in my life. In a space I hope is more open to this discussion, I hope you’ll join me.

1.) The gun control issue. I know, I know, this one seems pretty obvious; I mean, he’s a red-blooded American man and cowboy. How could anyone possibly think for a second he’d be for the party of gun control?? While this is true, you know what’s also true? The fact that he lost a child to gun violence. Now, of course we don't know exactly how Isaac and Eliza were killed, but judging from the time and efficiency, we can assume they were shot. Now let’s get away from assumptions. Arthur mourned the loss of his son, felt the agonizing, intense pain of losing a child, and said that it changed him forever, hardened his heart. Do we really for a second think that Arthur would listen to the story of Sandy Hook, Parkland, Uvalde, and countless others and say, “No, guns are more important.”? Absolutely fucking not. Not only has Arthur felt that loss, that pain, but he is deeply empathetic; hearing the testimonials of children in these buildings, families that lost their babies, would be more than enough for him to understand and push for common sense gun laws. The erasure of Arthur Morgan's trauma of losing his son and the erasure of his empathy for children and families is rampant in political spaces of the fandom; to simply assume that because Arthur is an outlaw, in modern times he would be this “don’t tread on me.” “Cares more about guns than kids” kind of guy is asinine to me. Even if he hadn’t felt that loss and that pain, there are multiple times in the game where he is given a deeper understanding of things he has never experienced; he becomes angry at that pain inflicted, takes the mission with Charles and the Bison, and hears about the vaccines being diverted from the reservations, and the Black doctor (I think he’s a doctor) you meet in Rhodes. Once he heard these stories, these testimonials, or saw the pain, the hardship, he was quick to step in and do something to make a change. He would not value weapons over the lives of people, as we can see from the game.

2.) This one is always fun to see because it assumes that Arthur is inherently racist. Now, I’m going to state one of my least favorite but still valid arguments: he has minority friends. This is very true; look at Charles, Lenny, Javier, and Tilly. Here is why it’s one of my least favorite arguments: you can have minority friends and still be racist, sexist, homophobic… Having friends doesn’t make you antiracist, so what makes Arthur antiracist? One camp interaction stands out to me the most in regards to this, the one with Tilly when they first move south. Tilly comes to Arthur in specific to talk about how nervous she is being so far south; she understands that the south is a dangerous place for dark-skinned people, especially the location they’re in. Arthur, while he tries to soothe her, pointlessly at first, claiming that it's a good place to run from the law, also understands this, almost immediately changing his tone and telling Tilly not once but twice that e personally will keep her safe, that she has his word that he personally will keep her safe; a man that has hate in his heart for POC would not do that, ever. Another interaction is one with Lenny, where Lenny points out that Arthur wouldn’t notice the difference in the more southern states because the worst they’ll do to him publicly is say that he is friends with POC (less soft than that, watch the clips of it on YouTube if you want the full dialogue), whereas for Lenny the worst that can happen to him publicly is a lynching (which he states all the way back in chapter one where he almost was lynched). Arthur is not ignorant of racism; he knows that it exists—I hate the whole “Arthur doesn’t know about racism.” Because he does, and saying he doesn’t is an insult to his intelligence and awareness of the world around him. He knows racism exists; he personally just cannot fathom it; he cannot picture himself perpetuating racism (again, see the scene in Rhodes with the Black man), which is where I think that confusion that people say he doesn’t understand it comes from—he isn’t confused by racism; he’s confused why that man assumes he’s racist, because in his head he simply can’t fathom being bigoted.

This one has two parts, so bear with me. This also assumes that Arthur is sexist; the argument I see for this is the one-off comment he makes to the working girl at the saloon, "I didn't know I was talkin' to a lady." Was this an ok statement? No. Does it make him a raging sexist? Also no. Let's look at his relationship with Sadie; he does not underestimate her because she's a woman; he trusts in her and her abilities with unwavering confidence, so much so that he entrusts the safety of John, Abigail, and Jack to her. Now let's look at the camp interactions, one of which Arthur states that he sees no difference between men and women (bi king) and that most are bad, but some are worth loving. A man who is a raging sexist would never say something like this; he would never equate men and women, but Arthur does see them as equals. I see a lot of people point out that Arthur is far more protective of the camp girls than most, but this isn't because he sees them as less than him; he just understands that a lot of them lack the ability to fully protect themselves (Love you, Tilly and Mary-Beth). He isn't quite as protective of the women that he knows with confdence can and will protect themselves with confidence, but even then he will stick up for them if needed. Arthur Morgan is a protector of women, which is so incredibly important today and back then.

3.) Here’s my favorite. Arthur doesn’t engage in politics. Looking at this in terms of the game, he absolutely does engage in politics; he has opinions on rights and the government; that is, in fact, political—he doesn’t vote, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make political statements or isn’t even unintentionally political. Now let’s look at this in the frame of today. Being non-political in 1899 and being non-political in 2025 are two wildly different things; politics has changed drastically in the last almost decade where thngs have circled back around to be voting for or against human rights, and from my evidence above, Arthur would be voting for those rights. In modern times it is almost impossible to be nonpolitical; I dare say it's impossible. Everything now has politics attached to it; that argument is their gotcha moment because they don't understand that, which is why they make the argument in the first place.

So, why does this matter? Arthur is a pixel outlaw in a fictional setting of 1899 America. I guess in the grand scheme of life it really doesn’t, but in fandom culture it absolutely does. Many people, including myself, come to fandom spaces to escape, to cope with things from their past or events of the day, to chat about characters, and to share theories and art, and so on. Imagine someone who lost a child, sibling, or friend to gun violence logging on for their daily dose of distraction only to see someone making points as to why a character who is comforting to so many people wouldn’t care about the death of their lost loved one, just guns. A POC or member of the LGBTQ community doing the same and seeing arguments as to why Arthur is homophobic or racist. Seeing something like that is in fact harmful; taking things and stretching them to fit your narrative despite the actual source material pointing in the opposite direction requires erasure and explaining your own personal biases publicly. Someone stating that Arthur is a racist is just them stating that they themselves are a racist or that they themselves care more about guns than lives—as we’ve seen, the public stating of controversial things or overall morally reprehensible ideals when gone unchecked spirals and spreads, and soon we have a space of people who will openly state bigoted things and push the people in the fandom here for reasons of a shared enjoyment for whatever reason or the people who use things to cope or as a distraction out of the space, effectively ruining it and potentially the outlook on the content of the game. Fandom spaces shouldn’t tolerate bigotry, and lots of Red Dead fans have been expressing bigotry lately, and these people have started to go completely unchecked. It bothers me; it always will, even if it is just a silly cowboy game.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

meh why not. Honkai Star Rail X reader incorrect quotes when you have the time because I forgot you wrote for them.

I had a blast with this. Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons for reading these over.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Natasha: You need to stop drinking so many energy drinks. Seele: You're one to talk. Natahsha: The last patient who refused to stop drinking energy supplements after I suggested it died. Seele: Oh no. Natasha: In a car crash. You: That sounds unrelated. Natasha: I’m the one who crashed it. Do not disobey me.

You: Why do you two like being out in the rain so much? Screwllum: I like splashing in the puddles and rain is just fun! Ruan Mei: I'm trying to get hit by lightning for my research.

Sparkle: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Sparkle: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Sparkle: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? You: …This is Monopoly.

You and Asta: Madam Herta, help! We did a bad thing! Herta: Does it affect me? You and Asta: Not technically— Herta: Then suffer in silence.

You: Do you know a turtle's greatest weakness? Ruan Mei: How slow they are? You: No, their only weakness is that they can get stuck on their back. Ruan Mei: What if you taped two turtles together? They'd be unstoppable, correct? You: … Ruan Mei: … Ruan Mei: …I will be back shortly You: Ruan Mei, NO—

You: Died and came back as a cowboy, I call that reintarnation. Archeon: Laughs -Elsewhere- Boothill: I suddenly feel like strangling someone.

You: I need some help dealing with a problem, do you have any suggestions? Jingliu: Sword. You: Do you have any other suggestions? Jingliu: …Two swords.

You: Do you have any idea how many laws you're breaking on a daily basis? Silver Wolf: One? You: No. Silver Wolf: Two? You: No. Silver Wolf: …Is it one?

You: why are you following me? Kafka: because we’re dating now You: okay… what about the rest of you? Kafka: we’re a package deal Silver Wolf, walking next to the rest of the Stellaron hunters while burying her face in a game and Blade maneuvering her to avoid hazards like light poles: buy one idiot, get several free

You: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Firefly: Sure! You: What's your favorite color? Firefly, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Will you go out on a date with me?

Kafka: I love making short jokes about Wolfie. You: They go right over her head. Silver Wolf, standing on a step stool: Fuck you.

Blade, reading the note in the lunch packed for him by you and Kafka: the path to inner peace starts with four words Blade: not my fucking problem Blade: Narrows Eyes I think this one is for Firefly

Firefly, reading the note in the lunch packed for her by you and Kafka: Please, for the love of the Aeons, be good. We know your love language is acts of service. We also know your only skill is stabbing people. Firefly: Tilts Head To The Side I… believe this is for blade…

You: I love my personal space You point to the Silver Wolf latched onto your back You: this is Wolfie. Wolfie also loves my personal space.

You: Why are you smiling Blade? Blade: Am I not allowed to be happy? Kafka: Of course you are Bladie… It’s just that you being happy, usually means someone’s lost their life… or a limb.

Pom Pom: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. The Express Crew, desperately trying to avoid spring cleaning after the last "Incident": … Pom Pom: Choo Choo motherfuckers, come out already.

Stelle, waving at the crew as she steps onto the express after being splattered by a small army of stings: hello. Himeko: i- Welt: we literally saw you die. Dan Heng: you died. March 7th: you're dead. Stelle, shrugging: death is a social construct.

You and Stelle: some fools be like “I play games to escape my responsibilities” then pick tank or healer Welt: In my greatest fantasies I am able to help people Dan Heng: In my fantasies I can prevent people from being hurt, even if it means I get hurt in their stead Himeko: In my fantasies I don’t have to know how to aim March 7th: In my fantasies I control who lives and who dies

You standing at the top of the stairs: What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Ruan Mei: I accidentally fell down. Herta: RUAN MEI PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HER part of our rent! Screwllum: Ruan Mei bet me fifty Credits that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than she did falling down it, so I slid down the banister to get my money. Dr. Ratio: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and several galaxies away and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Screwllum.

You: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Ruan Mei: They do. Herta: …Why did you say that with such certainty?

Dr. Ratio, talking to You and Topaz: Well, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Aventurine do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. You and Topaz: … Aventurine: I know I should be offended, but he's not wrong.

Silver Wolf talking about you: How do you feel about Them, Firefly? Firefly, vibrating at a frequency high enough to shatter a glass: I love Them a normal amount.

You and the Stellaron Hunters sitting in jail together You: So who should we call? Silver Wolf: I’d call Blade, but I feel safer in jail

You: When do you usually go to sleep? Blade: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the Aeons. Kafka: My body will pass out when it's ready Kafka and Blade: high five You: angry staring (edited)

Firefly: Good News! The store had blueberry bagels! Bad news, the cream cheese died… or became more alive… It is the wrong amount of alive.

Tingyun, after being caught lying in bed with your shirt on: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. You: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Yukong: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? You: Peonies, why? Yukong: … You: Were you going to get me flowers? Yukong: … You: … Yukong, under her breath: It's a possibility…

Quingque: I owe you one. You: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Blade: walks in to see you and Firefly sitting on the couch facing away from each other. Blade: I know I will more than likely regret asking, but what's going on there? Firefly, gaming: They're having a fight. Blade, confused: Then why are they holding hands? Kafka, playing with her Cat: Fighting makes them sad.

Natasha: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? You, whispering to The Moles: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? The Moles: Because we have little hands. You: *Nods Sagely Before Turning To Natasha* You, with a smile: Its because The Moles have little hands

You, when Wildfire was just starting: Natasha, sweetie, the love of my life, all you have is a handful of impoverished shantytowns paying us protection money. We're basically slum lords.

Natasha: And what's the main rule we have? Julian: Don't dare The Leader Of The Moles, Dark Hook The Great to do stupid stuff. You: And why's that? Hook with her head stuck between two stair rails: Because I have no regard for my personal well being.

[wwinterwitch]

cowboy like me — coriolanus snow

summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything

notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao

i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.

masterlists | read on ao3

A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.

He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.

Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.

Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.

In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.

But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.

Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.

And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?

Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.

You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.

Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?

No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.

He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.

Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.

It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.

If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.

It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...

Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.

He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?

The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.

"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"

He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away. 

"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?

In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.

The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.

When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do? 

A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.

You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.

After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?

But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive. 

With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.

The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.

He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.

There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.