#blue moon rodeo

[kenjed]

behind the scenes at the rodeo, Montana Summer 2023

[justsayun]

Eating and Love

I'm a people watcher. I don't know if you've ever paid attention to the fact that some people are ugly eaters. How they eat is a disaster. Even some extremely attractive folks are crazy ugly eaters. We went to a buffet the other morning and this man near us was eating his meal and it was like watching a rodeo. I mentioned this to my daughter and her boyfriend. My wife whispers to me, "Be Quiet". I go to my daughter and I don't know how this guy is keeping his food on his fork. He's defying gravity. I wanted to try and film him with my phone but my wife threatened to get up and go sit in the car if I did. Thanks for the buzz kill honey. I may not come across like the type but I'm always trying, any way I can to infuse romance into my marriage. I wish I could find a T-shirt in my size that said: "I'm all about love", I'd wear it all the time. I'm always trying to carve out some time just for us. I've been thinking up couples activities for her and me. I came up with a beautiful one the other day and she had no interest. I told her fine, I'll wash the car alone again! I surprised her with a shirt I got for her over the weekend. I had it wrapped and everything. Yep, this old boy did it right for a change. Then she took a beautiful moment and that token of love I had presented her and asked: "Did I get the shirt with the case of Blue Moon I Purchased?" I said, "What?" "You are asking me if my gift was a free gift I received? I will not even dignify that question with an answer. I am to hurt right now." I hope Jesus answers my prayer and none of my neighbors jump on the Blue Moon promotion with the free shirt or I'm screwed.

[gutsby]

Pregnant Pause

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn���t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v (duh). Daddy Daryl + daddy!kink Daryl. Difficulties trying to conceive.

Note: Part 2 to Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk. I fully blame @murdadixon and the Blood Ties series for all the pregnancy-related one shots lately - veryyyy much in my Daddy Daryl era now 🫣💓💘

If trying to get knocked up was an Olympic sport, you would’ve won the gold.

On the merits of your efforts alone you and Daryl probably should’ve had several hundred babies under your belt by now. Thousands. The past six months had been nothing but babymaking, a steady stream of rawdog bedroom rodeos and two-person pushups being your primary form of sustenance. But, try as you might, there wasn’t so much as a whiff of a kid in sight after all this time. You were starting to lose hope.

When, one month, your period didn’t make its usual appearance two days after the time it was meant to, you were over the moon with excitement.

Swinging one leg over Daryl’s sleeping form to straddle him in bed, you leaned down and shook him hard.

“Daryl!” you hissed, pinching him under his shirt.

The man below you grunted, shuffled, and blinked uncertainly up at you before slowly raking his eyes over your body and starting to smirk.

“Climb on, cowgirl,” he purred, already starting to tug your panties down.

Your hands quickly covered his and stalled their movements, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Not that, not that!” you whispered, “I’m late.”

“Fer what?” Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand.

“My period.”

Daryl’s gaze darted back to yours. A beat as he processed what you meant.

“No shit?”

“Shit.” You were nodding, beaming.

Daryl hauled himself to his feet in a second, taking you with him. Then he slipped you onto the floor and raced you to the door, practically fighting you through the threshold of the bathroom to get to the cupboards first.

Together, you flung cabinet doors open far and wide and went foraging for little blue boxes in somewhat of a frenzy. Daryl was chucking pads and tampons and rolls of toilet paper over his shoulder while you stuck yourself waist-deep in another stuffy wooden space, searching in earnest for that stupid Clearblue logo.

“Got it!” Daryl chirped. You almost smacked your head on the sink coming out so fast.

“Yeah?!”

Daryl thrust a blue-and-white stick in your direction, grinning with pride.

Your eyes narrowed just a little. Your stomach sank.

“Daryl, that’s a thermometer.”

Your boyfriend’s mouth hung slightly ajar in an ‘o’ shape, and you couldn’t even be mad at his attempt.

Trying to hide your dismay, you sighed and told him to keep looking. You crawled back over to the cupboard and felt a gentle coil just then start to take shape in your stomach—whether that might’ve been a real-life baby or another burst of anxious nerves, you couldn’t be sure. You and Daryl continued to comb over the boxes and bottles lined across your shelves.

That was how your day had started. It continued, at present, outside a largely dilapidated Target Superstore, with your hands on your hips and your eyes scanning a sea of the undead that occupied its front entrance. Shit was worse than any Black Friday crowd you’d ever seen.

“You sure you don’t wanna check the Walgreens?” you asked, tightening your grip on the rifle in your hands.

“Place was overrun last time I checked. Got a camp of military types stationed nearby too. Best ta leave ‘em be,” Daryl answered.

You suspected if anyone came across the two of you now they’d be put off just the same—with the AK-47 in your arms and the crossbow/M4 Carbine combo on Daryl’s person, you probably looked every bit as lethal as you’d ever been.

All for an itty bitty pee stick and some snacks.

You sat down on one of the red cement balls to your left and crossed your arms. You watched the herd. If there was just some way to slip in, sight unseen, and sneak past their rotting bodies to get to the Sexual Wellness section, maybe rappel from the ceiling and drop dead on the spot, go in guns blazing or else just—”

“Mask it,” Daryl said, suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow but quickly had your curiosity quelled when Daryl nodded toward a throng of walkers down the way.

There were four or five of them stacked together, crushed between shopping carts and pinned, interminably, in place as they stood, hissed, and clawed in your general direction.

Daryl had a hatchet in hand in a second. You watched, enthralled, as he made lightning quick work of the walkers, hacking off their arms, dismantling their jaws, and slinging rope around their bodies like they were little more than a miniature herd of cattle. He came back smiling, probably thinking to himself how proud Michonne would be if she could see him now.

“Here,” he hummed. He passed over the rope attached to two jawless walkers like they were pets on a leash.

You accepted it and joined him as he walked, eyeing your newly-tripled group with a curious look.

“Should we—” you started.

“Not naming them,” Daryl said before you could finish.

The six of you trudged along a path of broken glass and steered toward one of the semi-shattered doors. Your stomach started to twist when the sounds of the groaning walkers within reached your ears.

“’S’okay. Nothin’s gonna hurt us with these ugly fucks around,” Daryl murmured to you, glancing back at the doe-eyed, mutilated geeks at your rear.

You nodded silently and followed his lead. The pair of you were practically halfway through the entrance now, making your way past piles of debris and gradually drawing closer to the hissing mob inside. You eyed the looming horde, chewed the inside of your cheek, and yanked your brand new friends a little closer.

And, like magic, the herd hardly stirred when you approached the perimeter. A few parted ways enough to give you entry and, when you’d stepped inside, proceeded to close right back around as if you were one of their own. Not a single snarling mouth or clouded eye turned your way as you and Daryl shuffled ahead, mimicking their moans and hisses and occasionally trading looks as if to say, ‘No fucking way this is working.’

You carried on. Followed by sight where streams of light went pouring in through the caved-in ceiling. Even looked to a couple worn and faded aisle numbers and quickly learned you were much closer than you thought.

You slowed your pace.

“Condoms, 2:00,” you whispered, trying to direct Daryl’s attention to the right.

The pregnancy tests were always stationed somewhere near the condoms—like a warning, you thought. You never could’ve imagined you’d be so happy to see that silent admonition in your life, now, as you and Daryl sidled over to the scattered rows of sexual wellness products and took a closer look.

Daryl reached down, seized a box, and held it up to you.

“Nope. Ovulation test,” you shook your head.

Another.

“Pantyliners.”

“Goddamn, how many pussy products do y’all need?” Daryl groaned, stepping aside to let you check the shelves yourself.

You found a pregnancy test in four seconds flat. You chucked the box his way and grabbed half a dozen more.

Internally, you would’ve loved to celebrate this momentous occasion, but rationally, you knew there were several hundred flesh-eating horrors just waiting for you to fuck up and serve yourselves on a platter a stone’s throw away. Moreover, you were ill at ease—almost fearful—of the result you might get from the tests. After six months of setbacks and cyclic, habitual frustration, you almost didn’t want to know one way or another. You weren’t fit to face another disappointment.

When your gaze flitted to Daryl’s, you saw his expression had softened. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and cradled your head to his chest.

“Don’t matter what the test says,” he murmured into your hair, stroking it softly, “’m gonna put a damn baby in ya if it’s the last thing I do.”

You surprised yourself by bursting into laughter, not tears, on his front, trying to stifle the sounds in his shirt as he hugged you tighter. You squeezed him back, held him close, and almost forgot your four drooling companions and the many more still prowling about the store. You turned your head up to Daryl.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too.”

Daryl leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He probably meant it to be a peck, nothing more than a second or two, but when you pulled him in and really kissed him back, he didn’t mind at all.

He walked you back into a shelf, pushed your body as careful as he could so as not to disturb any items behind you. You brought a hand to his hair and threaded it tight through your fingers, prompting the smallest of groans between you. Daryl stepped a little closer.

The second your tongue breached the seal of his lips, you felt a hand slide down to your backside and nudge you up a little, so you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues delved deeper, hands roamed further, and moans took on a volume that likely wasn’t safe at all for your current surroundings. Your four gummy-mouthed comrades stood as silent and still as ever.

“Wanna— have another go for good measure?” you muttered against Daryl’s lips. Hips grinding with his against all your better judgment.

“Couldn’t...hurt,” Daryl groaned in return.

Undoubtedly, it could do more than just hurt you—if those walkers sniffed you out, they’d kill you—but, as it was, neither of your hormone-charged bodies had the presence of mind to say any differently. You and Daryl shed clothes quicker than either of you could comprehend and, within a minute, were back on each other with another flurry of quick, frantic kisses.

Daryl gripped your bare hips, pinned them to the shelf, and almost cursed in your mouth when the whole damn thing threatened to give way.

In a blink, he’d grabbed the metal behind you and was slowly, desperately trying to yank it back while you cast a look around you.

Nothing roaming nearby. At least as far as you could see.

You shifted as though you were going to slide out of Daryl’s arms, but he just drew you closer. Once he’d righted the shelf, he secured his arm underneath you and grinned.

“Wanna take this someplace a little more private?”

You nodded and motioned toward the big ‘Rx’ sign at the end of the aisle. Daryl followed your gaze.

The pharmacy counter would have to do.

You were propped up against the cool surface in no time at all—right after Daryl had tied the walkers to a nearby pole—and suddenly you felt warmth all around. In spite of your nearly stark naked stature, you were enveloped by Daryl’s body, pressed flush against the counter and feeling his touch run every which way he pleased. He kissed, licked, and sucked every supple inch of your skin and acted like it was the first time he’d tasted you in ages. Like it wasn’t last night, and the morning before that, and every day preceding that he’d gotten his fill.

Daryl watched with eyes that drank you in like a novelty, and somewhere deep within you both, you knew you needed this now.

You hardly had a moment’s time to think before Daryl was thrusting inside you. Laying you flat on your back and fucking you hard against the counter with your legs draped over either one of his shoulders.

Daryl fought back a moan when your walls first welcomed him, slow at first, but maddening all the same. You felt a hand drift to your neck and seize it at the base, saw Daryl lean in a little and say, through gritted teeth,

“Tha’s my good girl— take daddy’s cock.”

You whimpered in response, feeling him rut his hips even harder. Daryl squeezed your throat as he did, and, seeing how much you loved it, held it there as long as you could take it before you came gasping for air.

He’d fill you to the hilt, pull out, and do it all again, quietly moaning your name as he pumped in and out.

“Fuck, Daryl, I— fuck,” you tried, and failed, to speak a coherent sentence as the archer picked up speed.

“Wha’s’at, honey? Ya say sumn’?” Daryl pried, pretending like he wasn’t already sending you straight to the brink of orgasm with the force of each stroke.

You hummed in an effort to conceal your moan but ended up letting loose an even louder sound, punctuated by something of a shriek when Daryl delivered a particularly hard blow. You clamped a hand over your mouth and watched Daryl shoot a look over his shoulder. Then he turned back, smirking.

“Didn’t quite catch tha’, honey,” he managed between ragged thrusts, “Wanna moan a little louder so the whole fuckin’ store can hear?”

You shot him a look as if to say, ‘Get fucked’—then pulled him even deeper with your fingers wrapped fast around his forearms. Daryl hardly seemed fazed, simply dropping a hand between your legs and offering another shit-eating grin when your body jolted under his touch.

“Feel good, baby?” he hummed.

You nodded and whimpered. Couldn’t help but clench when he leaned forward and angled your legs higher. Daryl let out a throaty moan.

“Gonna cum f’me?”

Before you could answer, he lowered himself even closer, ‘til your legs were all the way up by your ears and your body was chock-full of pleasure, all but brimming with tears. You tried to nod, found that you could scarcely move, and felt Daryl cup your face in his hand as he continued to fuck you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip,

“Cum fer daddy, then. Cum all over this cock.”

Daryl knew he didn’t need to tell you twice. In a matter of seconds he felt you come undone beneath him, hands gripping him tight and walls clenching even harder. He caught your lips in a sloppy kiss, tried to quiet your moans, but found himself chasing that high not too long after. He spilled his seed inside you and watched your face contort with pleasure—not from your climax alone, but that pure, primal feel of his warmth spreading out deep within you.

The two of you parted, panted, and grinned in each other’s faces like that wasn’t the single dumbest, and most dangerous, fuck you’d had in your entire lives.

You didn’t need to exchange a word; you knew you shared identical thoughts. Daryl squeezed your thigh.

Twenty minutes later, with your walker quartet in tow, you paced a nervous path back and forth before your car in the parking lot. On the hood sat half a dozen, urine-soaked pregnancy tests with the screens facing down. You stopped and turned to Daryl, eyes locking on his.

“Ready?”

“Flip ‘em.”

[dallasgallant]

Blue moon you mean like that Elvis song in the outsiders?!

Family friend worked at a gas station as a teen in the 60s… you mean like Steve and Soda in the outsiders?

Rodeo coming to town? Roof being fixed- denim jacket- you mean like in the—

[dunyun-rings]

I finally put together my drawing prompt list for October! I made this for myself but I would love to see others join in, even if it’s just a few of the days. My goal is to design a fairy character for each prompt 🍁

Text version of the list is under the cut

Faetober Prompt List:

1. Turning Over a New Leaf

2. Candle-lit Reading

3. Black Cat’s Folly

4. Changing Colors

5. Barn Owl Overlook

6. Cornfield Baker

7. Stable-master of Rats

8. Apple Spice Wine

9. Secret Berry-picking

10. Dandelion Wishes

11. Queen of Gourds

12. Hiding with Rabbits

13. Lonely Cobwebs

14. Amber Foliage

15. Frolic of Death

16. Rainy Days

17. Bullfrog Rodeo

18. Fungal Underbrush

19. Dancing with Cicadas

20. Insect Funeral Director

21. Frozen Dew

22. Stirring the Stew

23. Blue Moon

24. Moth Masquerade

25. Angel of Death

26. Sickly Sweet Rot

27. Pomegranate Kisses

28. Foggy Mirror

29. The Last Harvest

30. Haunted by Crows

31. Attending the Séance

[hwsing]

Thoughts about pegging the allies and mayhaps Italy 🧍‍♂️

pegging? pegging!

notes: 18+, top reader and bottom characters. includes: america (alfred), canada (matthew), france (francis), england (arthur), china (yao). i think some of my opinions on this are unpopular but pls don’t attack me for it lmaoo, as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: talk about pegging, slightly toxic views on sex (ivan)

first of all, those who would be most interested in it would be francis who is just kinky as fuck, feliciano who is down to roll around however and yao who is so old and easily bored nowadays that you have got to switch it up often anyways. the least would be ivan, who is just overall not a super big fan of bottoming and arthur who is similar and just. struggles to get into most things involving toys. alfred and matthew are in the middle area.

francis loves sex. something has to be really bewildering for him to be particularly opposed — hell, it’s likely that he brought it up himself if you’re more hesitant to. if you bring it up first, he’s pleasantly surprised and causally agrees; he has high expectations! but, honestly, even if you suck at it, he just takes it as an opportunity to teach you. he’ll tell you how to fuck him right through his breathy, soft moans, encouraging and awfully sweet about the whole thing. but, if you do know what you’re doing or are more confident, he’s more than happy to take it. he actually cums a lot harder when something is in his ass to be honest. he’d most certainly want it to become a more regular thing.

like francis, yao might end up bringing this up himself. he is old and, honestly, very few things shock him. he’s not someone who needs super niche hardcore stuff to get off, but he thinks it’s beneficial for everyone involved to switch things up often enough!! he’s used to bottoming to begin with, so this is by no means his first rodeo. bigger the better

alfred is not very opinionated about these things, to be honest. by default, he likes getting his dick wet, so he doesn’t think about bottoming very often. when presented with the idea, though, he’s by no means opposed! he takes it like a champ, and if you didn’t already have it, he got plenty of lube! would be very embarrassed by the fact he got fucked though. he doesn’t really have a reason to be, he just gets flustered if you remind him outside of the bedroom

ivan isn’t inherently particularly dominating in intimacy, but he very much likes to be the one deciding the pace with sex. and while you can argue that bottoming isn’t a forfeit, because that’s true to him it feels like it. he’s just…. very stubborn and would likely be dismissive of the idea. if he trusts you a LOTTTTT i think he’d be more open to the idea. you’ll have to unlock ivan level 99 first though. good luck adventurer

i was having very mixed feelings on matthew. i do think he’d be down though. at least post 2020 matthew would be. prior to that, i dont think he’d be downright opposed to it, but he doesn’t entirely get it…. once it happens though, he doesn’t think it’s a huge deal. doesn’t love the feeling (just isn’t really into the feeling if the toy, thinks its a bit uncomfy regardless of lube) but if your thrust game is good enough it can compensate for the toy feeling!

arthur has bottomed before, but it was almost, if not just straight up always, because his companion for that night had a willy and refused to bottom themselves. arthur isn’t against it, even if it isn’t what he naturally gravitates towards — but… pegging? maybe a younger, more adventurous arthur would be a bit intrigued, but the man barely accepts that vibrators can help spice things up. he just… struggles to see the point, but he’s likely to try it out if you two are long term partners. i can’t see him being very into it, but he’ll indulge you once in a blue moon to please you because he loves you <33

[delopsia]

When Rhett's beloved belt buckle finally breaks, it's on your one-month anniversary.

He says he knew it was going to happen one of these days; the damn thing is older than the both of you combined, but when Rhett's got you up against the wall, the last thing you expect to hear is something metal clattering to the floor. In one smooth motion, the piece of steel that holds onto the belt has completely separated from the rest of the buckle.

You knew Rhett was going to be upset the day it finally happened, but you certainly didn't expect to find yourself kissing away the tears that spill onto his pale cheeks. It's the only thing he has of his grandfather, won in a rodeo back in '48. And even though you're not privy to all the Abbott family drama just yet, you know enough to understand that Perry got almost everything when the old man passed a few years back. Archaic first-born privileges, or whatnot. Probably would have gotten the buckle, too, if he'd ever been bold enough to climb on the back of a bull.

The two of you spend hours researching ways to fix it, but those YouTube tutorials only go so far, and the fix that works only lasts for three days before breaking again.

You've been dating Rhett for two and a half months when you come across a buckle in an online thrift shop. It's not quite as oversized and flashy as ol' faithful was and looks entirely different from what you usually see around Wabang. But it's complete with subtle engravings and a big, detailed bull skull in the center that just screams, "Rhett Abbott would wear this."

And so it winds up in your shopping cart; arrives five days later, nestled safely between the clothes you'd gotten as well. The pictures didn't do it any justice. You didn't pay a whole lot for it, but it doesn't look cheap in the slightest; in fact, it's the perfect example of what fine craftsmanship looks and feels like.

You're waiting to give it to him after the family dinner he's bringing you to; the perfect way to finish your first legitimate outing with the rest of his family. The buckle isn't heavy by any means, but it feels like it weighs a hundred pounds in your purse when you walk out the front door that day.

Rhett and Royal are already there, so low-maintenance that all they need to do is shower and change clothes. You're pretty sure you saw Cecelia doing her makeup in the passenger seat when you walked past, and God only knows if Perry and his wife will make it. Those two are lucky if they make it a mile down the road before getting into a spat.

Royal's talking so heatedly that he hardly notices your presence, "See, this is what I don't get," jamming his thumb toward a tourist standing in the checkout line, "Why do kids y'all's age think it's okay to be wearin' buckles they didn't win?"

Your smile falls, hits the floor with an ear-splitting shatter that only you can hear.

God, of course, you should have thought of that before you hit that dumb little purchase button. You can't give him this big hunk of metal if he didn't win it in the first place! Why didn't you ask first? Or research before letting your heart get ahead of your head?

"Y'alright?" Rhett's big, warm hand rubs the space between your shoulders, and for the briefest second, you wonder if he'd heard your smile shatter after all.

The first thing you do when you get home is bury that obnoxiously-shiny buckle in the back of your sock drawer. Rhett wins a new buckle a few months later, one deserving of being worn.

That hunk of embarrassment makes appearances every once in a blue moon. A couple times when you're fumbling around for a very particular pair. Once you wind up grabbing it simply because you've forgotten what it was, only to stuff it back the moment the memory bubbled back up to the surface.

And gradually, time flies by. A six-month anniversary date becomes a one-year, two years, three, four. The socks in your drawer are completely different from the ones you wore back then. There's a stack of ill-shot polaroids collecting in the bottom left corner because Rhett can't aim the camera to save his life.

You've moved house twice. Once into a rental to be closer to Rhett and again into a proper house together because his staying for the weekend and leaving early Monday mornings could only last so long. What's yours has become Rhett's, and you haven't thought twice about it.

"Damnit!"

Rhett's head pops up from beside the bed, eyes wide as can be, "What happened?"

"I only grabbed one sock again," you grumble, putting your shoe back on the floor. You haven't the slightest clue how you've done this three times in a row, but you have.

"'M sorry," Rhett's already reaching for your drawer, "I'm shit at gettin' them to stay together." But as his hand dips blindly into the array of socks, his expression shifts, nose scrunching, eyes darting from the socks to you.

And you... can't understand why he's looking at you like that. "What?"

Something hard scrapes against the wooden bottom as Rhett grabs ahold of it, something round and shiny that you don't ever recall seeing before.

Those handsome features soften as he realizes what's sitting in the palm of his hand. A carefully crafted hunk of metal that's spent the better half of four years hiding away amongst your socks.

"Rhett?"

"What's this?" Carefully, he lifts it for you to see.

The moment your eyes land on the familiar shape, you can feel them begin to widen. "That..." shit, why do you still have that thing? "It's just some...dumb thing I forgot to throw out."

Rhett's head cocks to the side, corners of his lips turning downward. Doesn't say anything just yet, but those deep blues hold a million and one questions as he turns it back and forth in his big, talented hands. Beneath his breath, he mutters, mainly to himself, "'s pretty."

Like a dam broken, your mouth begins to move, "I got it for you after your favorite buckle broke." You can't bring yourself to look at that old hunk of metal; instead, you find yourself staring down at the singular sock on your foot. "I didn't know that you can only wear buckles that you won until after I bought it."

"What moron told you that?" Quick, borderline incredulous.

"Royal," that name is bitter on your tongue for more than one reason, "he was saying something about it that first time I went out for dinner with your family."

Bare feet patter across the hardwood as Rhett comes around the bed, buckle in hand, catching in the light when he reaches out to cradle your cheeks. Looking him in the eye is the last thing you want to do, but you let him lift your head regardless.

"Can you do somethin' for me?" He hums, "Don't ever believe a damn thing that ol' bastard preaches 'bout."

That hadn't been the reaction you were expecting at all. "What do you mean?"

"There's an ol' rule that you don't wear buckles for a rodeo you didn't win," thumbs stroking your cheekbones, "but what Royal said was just him misinterpretin' shit so he can bitch."

Your eyes roll. "Well, you've already got a replacement, so it's not a big deal anyway."

All Rhett can do is hold up a big index finger, disappearing out of the bedroom without another word. Walks back in at the same time that you get the proper socks on your feet.

That buckle is the first thing you see. Standing proud on the front of his belt, remarkably small compared to the former one, and yet, the spitting image of what you imagined when you bought it all those years ago.

"I thought you liked your rodeo buckle?" Speaking mostly to yourself.

"I do," the bed dips as he settles down next to you, a million-dollar smile plastered across his face, "but I like this one better."

Four years. That buckle spent four years hiding away in the back of your sock drawer, nothing but a waste of money and a sour memory that arose every once in a while.

And now it's never spent a second off of Rhett's belt.

It goes with him on his rodeo circuits, glimmering in those towering stadium lights like a little cluster of stars. That old bull skull scratches against your palm on the nights you can't wait to get to the bedroom and leaves imprints on your skin when you sit in his lap. It's there for your anniversary dates and your just-because dates, and it gets polished for the special events that require finer attire.

Then you catch yourself one day, drumming your fingers against it, your head resting against Rhett's sturdy chest. Too tired to move but not tired enough to fall asleep, and it just flies out of your mouth, "Why do you like this buckle so much, anyway?"

Because you haven't forgotten how he used to obsess over his rodeo buckles. How hard he worked, and the injuries he suffered in pursuit of them. A dislocated shoulder, countless broken ribs, concussions, and a shattered ankle, just to name a few. And now those buckles do nothing more than sit up on a shelf he built, intended to do nothing but hold those old, dusty prizes.

Rhett hums, hot air blowing against your skin as he bumps his nose into your forehead, "Because you got it for me." Pauses to press a kiss into your scalp. "T's more special than any of them ol' premade buckles they hand out in rodeos."

"What if it was a PBR Champion buckle?" You can't see it, but you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin as he rolls his eyes.

"I'll make you wear that hypothetical buckle for me." Another kiss. "Because this one ain't comin' off, sweetheart."

[topguncortez]

Not Dead Until You're Warm and Dead || Whumptober day 7 - R. Abbott

whumtpober masterlist || whumtpober taglist form

synopsis: Your and Rhett's relationship had been anything but easy between bull riding and lies. But you had hoped that you would be enough for him to come back alive.

word count: 2.8k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: flatline

warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, death, character death, allusion of suicide.

When Rhett first laid eyes on Y/N, he knew she was the one for him. He had missed his chance with Maria, holding back on his feelings and letting her walk out of his life. But when he saw her standing on the fence line as he lowered himself onto his bull, he knew that she was going to be his wife. He held on for his life, lasting the whole eight seconds, and impressing her. The boost of confidence from the ride was what he needed to go over and talk to her. Her cheeks turned red as he invited her for a dance, telling him that she couldn’t dance to save her life, but he assured her that it was okay. He had kissed her that night. 

After that night, Y/N basically disappeared. She was nowhere to be found and it seemed like no one really knew who she was. Rhett had asked around town, asking pretty much everyone where the y/h/c girl went and who she was. It had dawned on Rhett, he never got her name. When Rhett was ready to give up, throwing in the towel that she was just a one-night stand sort of girl (even though they didn’t hook up) he received a call from an unknown number. 

“Hello?” He asked, creasing his eyebrows. 

“Rhett Abbott,” Her voice was like honey, and Rhett chuckled to himself. 

“How did you get my number but I never even got your name?” 

“I asked a friend,” She smiled. 

“I asked a friend about you, but it seems like you are just some figure of my imagination.” 

“I can assure you that I am not.”

They had talked for hours on the phone after Y/N had explained who she was. She was originally from Amelia County, but as soon as she graduated high school, she packed her bags and went to the coast. She would occasionally fly back to Wyoming, the last time she flew back was to watch her little brother ride against Rhett. Neither one had noticed the sunset, the moon rising in the sky, or the first strands of the orange morning sun. Rhett woke up to his alarm clock and looked down at his phone to notice that he was still on the line with her. He smiled to himself and whispered ‘sweet dreams darlin’’ before hanging up. 

And that’s how it went for weeks. He would call Y/N after dinner and they would talk for hours about everything under the sun. He learned that she was studying to be a nurse, in her third year at USC. Y/N learned that Rhett had made it to the finals, and she was already looking at flights to come watch him. Rhett rode one of his best rides when he noticed her smile in the stands during the finals. He focused on her the whole time, and the second he heard that buzzer go off, his mind was locked on finding her. The next morning they found themselves wrapped up in each other's arms. 

They continued their relationship long distance for about two years until she graduated college. Rhett had saved up his rodeo money packed up his truck and headed out west. He stuck out like a sore thumb as he walked around campus in his levis and blue flannel. He was going over in his head what he was going to say to her. The last time he had seen her was over six months ago when she had flown home for Thanksgiving. Rhett was going to propose to her, he had already asked her dad for her hand in marriage. He easily found her dorm room and waited on the bench until she came out. 

“Why look at what we have here? You lost Cowboy?” Y/N asked as she walked out the door. Rhett stood up, holding the bouquet of carnations in his hands.

“Slightly,” Rhett said with his usual half smile, “For you,” 

“Thank you, love,” Y/N took the flowers, and then placed her hand on his face and brought him in for a kiss. 

Their date went off without a hitch, Rhett taking her to a lookout spot that he had heard about. He laid some blankets down in the back of his truck and shared the sandwiches and stuff he had prepared. She talked about her final days at university and how she got a good job at the children’s hospital nearby. Rhett told her about how he had finally gotten away from his family, and Y/N was shocked. She never thought she’d see the day when Rhett Abbott left his family’s ranch, but here he was. He took her to the one-bedroom apartment he got which was covered in boxes. He tucked his shaking hands in his pockets as Y/N walked around the small place and explored. 

“Rhett this place is- what are you doing?” 

“I’m proposing,” Rhett said, as he was down on one knee with the ring box in his hand. 

“I know, why?” 

“Because I love you enough that I want to be with you forever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” 

“Yeah, yes! Yes!” 

Rhett placed the ring on her finger and held her tightly in his arms. He made love to her for hours that night, trying to make their bodies as close as possible. They felt as if they had truly become one, their hearts, minds, and souls. 

Their wedding was small, held back home in Wabang. Perry and Royal had worked hard to clean up one of the barns so they could have a reception out there. It was no secret to Royal that he wasn’t thrilled about the wedding and his youngest son fleeing out west. He had hoped that Rhett would take over the ranch when Royal couldn’t do it anymore. Perry was happy to see his brother finally settle down and had hoped that this would stick. Cecilia was also happy to have another daughter in the family. The two of them seemed very fairytale-like as Rhett held his new wife close to his chest as they swayed on the dance floor. But the honeymoon feeling came crashing down quickly. 

Their first fight had been an ugly one, over Rhett’s drinking. Years of riding bulls and popping painkillers had become a second nature to him, something he quite couldn’t let go of. Rhett had found a farm to work as an extra hand, but it was quite enough for him. He thought when he left Wabang and chased after the woman he loved that it would be enough. Having her be his, his own Mrs. Abbott, would be everything he had ever dreamed of, and it was. But he fell back into his old ways. Y/N would get pissed as he’d stumble in at odd hours of the night as she was trying to sleep before her early morning shifts. She had finally had enough of it. 

“Jesus Christ Rhett,” Y/N cursed under her breath as she looked at the drunk man who had just knocked over something, “Why do you constantly do this shit.” 

“Do what? I’m too fucking drunk to do this shit with you right now.” Rhett slurred. 

“Well Rhett! The hell do you expect!? This is the fourth night in a row you have come home completely trashed. You keep doing this shit, enough is enough,” Y/N yelled. 

“What do you mean?” Rhett sobered up as she climbed out of bed, and grabbed a bag from her closet, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving.” 

“No, baby please, I’m sorry,” Rhett grabbed her hands to try and stop her, “Please, you can’t leave me,” Rhett’s voice cracked, “You’re all I have. I left everything behind to be with you. I have nothing.”  

“I never asked you to do that,” She bit back tears. 

“I know, baby, please don’t leave me.” 

And she didn’t. She stayed by his side, even when he told her that he was going back to riding. She was actually proud of him for getting back on the bull. He had done his best to stay away from the temptation of the old life; the booze, the pills, the pussy. But old habits die hard. His body was older now, taking rougher beatings when he would get bucked off. He would have a simple celebratory drink with the guys after the rodeos. Rhett found himself out later at night, coming home to a quiet house with his wife at work. Their schedules hardly ever matched up. He got bored of using his hand in the shower, and he could hardly remember the last time he and his wife made love. 

He didn’t fuck them at first. He’d only let them suck him off before a ride, releasing the tension. But that only did so much. The rodeo hands seemed to look the other way when it came to his infidelity. He’d fuck the no-name buckle bunny before the ride, not bothering to learn their names or even show them an ounce of respect. He saw them as playthings to fill the void he was missing from his wife. He thought he was good at hiding it, but Y/N had always been smart. 

She knew that he was hiding something from him. She could tell in the way he wouldn’t touch her, his kisses were just pecks, and he avoided looking into her eyes. Y/N had even seen it with her own eyes at one of his rides. She had gotten the night off of work last minute and decided to surprise him. The whole crew seemed to act weird and barely paid her any attention as she walked through the trailers to find him. The smile ran away from her face the second she saw him walk out of his trailer, fixing his belt, and a bombshell blonde walking out behind him. Y/N felt her heart break as she leaned against the side of the trailer away from his eyes. 

Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Rhett heard the sounds of someone retching and walked around the side to see his wife. His eyes widened as he ran over to her, and moved her hair back. 

“No!” Y/N cried and pushed his hands off of her. 

“Baby, you’re sick, let me-” 

“Get the fuck away from me!” She yelled and Rhett stepped back in shock, “Fuck you, Rhett! I saw you! How could you?” 

“Babe I’m-” 

“Your shit will be in the driveway.” 

Rhett had come home that night to exactly what she said, his stuff in the driveway, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. So he sat outside the front door and waited for her. Y/N felt bad when she saw him in the morning and let him in. She ignored him the best she possibly could, but it was hard to do. Rhett could hear her break down while she was in the bathroom and it made him shed a tear himself. He sat on their bed and waited for her to come out of the shower, he could see the dried tear stains on her cheeks. 

“I promise you, I’ll never ride again. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

And he had stayed true to his word. He had told his dad over the phone that he had officially given up riding. That he and Y/N had decided to start trying for a family. Rhett didn’t want to spend his time away from his family or worse, like some of the legends in Bull Riding, dead or gravely injured. Rhett had stayed away from the rodeo life for about six months. And in those six months, Y/N and he worked on their marriage. They went to therapy, talking out their transgression and disagreements. They got back to the basics, bringing back romance into their lives; going on dates and trips. They had some of the best sex they had in years. They had both seemed to forget what had happened six months ago until he got that call from Royal. 

“I told her I wasn’t going to ride,” Rhett whispered as he stood in the kitchen. He was making breakfast for Y/N, after a busy night of lovemaking. 

“We’re in danger of going bankrupt, we need this,” Royal said, “We can’t lose the farm.” 

“There’s nothing you can do?” Rhett ran a hand down his face. 

“You know I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if there was,” 

“Fine,” Rhett said, “When is the ride?” 

“Three days.” 

“Three fucking days?! That’s our anniversary.” 

“I’m sorry Rhett.” 

“I gotta go, she’ll be up soon.” 

Rhett had gone to the rodeo by himself, it didn’t bother him, he was used to going by himself. It did make him a little upset that she didn’t even bother to come with him. He stood in the waiting area as he waited for the name of the bull he would be riding. The second he was given the bull, he knew it was a lost cause. The bull was impossible, no one had been successful in completing a ride. His team gave him a pat on the back and Rhett gave them a shy smile. The first person he had called was her. 

“Is there anything you can do?” Y/N asked. She was sitting on the back porch of their house, looking out at the waves as they crashed on the sand. 

“You know how these things go,” Rhett said as he leaned up against the side of his trailer. 

“I don’t like this Rhett,” She said honestly. Silent tears were running down her face. 

Rhett could hear the sadness in her voice, and could only picture the tears running down her face as she looked out at the setting sun, “I know you don’t. But I promise, I’ll come home to you.” 

“You fucking better Mr. Abbott,” She sniffed and wiped her tears away. 

“I will, Mrs. Abbott,” He smiled back, “I gotta go okay, I promise I’ll call you right after.” 

“I love you Rhett.” 

“I love you Y/N.” 

She had watched the clock, as she settled down in a chair in front of the fireplace. The class of whisky was cold in her hands as she counted down the seconds until Rhett’s ride. Rhett said a small prayer as he walked up the metal steps towards the bullpen. The crowd was going wild as he waved his hand and greeted his team. They helped him down on the bull, and it already was bucking the second Rhett put his weight on the animal. Once it settled, Rhett tied the rope around his hand, making sure he had a tight grip on it. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, seeing glimpses of his future life with Y/N, a few kids, and a beautiful house back home on the Abbott Ranch. Rhett opened his eyes the second they opened the gate. It didn’t last long until a consuming darkness filled his eyes once again. 

Time seemed to tick on slowly, and her eyes never left the clock as she waited for the call from Rhett. Assuming from the time it had taken from the ride until now, that it hadn’t gone well. Everyone in the community knew that the bull Rhett had was a troublesome one. It was known for bucking off its riders in the first couple seconds. The second her phone rang, she picked it up. His name hadn’t even slipped past her lips when his team manager told her what had happened. Her heart was shattered in her chest as she dropped the phone on the carpet. Her knees shook as she collapsed to the ground screaming out his name. 

Her eyes were blurred with tears and her head was spinning as she pushed herself up from the carpet. Her phone was still on the line and they could hear her screaming for him. She walked out into the sand, her chest felt on fire as she let out loud sobs. She didn’t stop as her feet hit the wet sand from the waves. The further she walked into the water, her clothing felt heavier and heavier. The waves would crash and pull her underwater. She fought to keep herself above the surface, keeping her lungs inflated with air. The saltiness of water strung her eyes as the waves hit her. She looked up at the sky, looking at the stars and feeling the heaviness in her heart. She felt her feet leave the ground and she took a deep breath, as she felt a wave pull her completely under. 

In the black abyss she had fallen into, she could see the man she had always wanted. Rhett stood there waiting for her, his hand outstretched. She smiled at him as she placed her hand in his. He placed a hand on her cheek, brushing the tear from her cheek. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. 

“I told you I would come home,” Rhett said. 

“I know you did,” She spoke to him.

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17 @cornylovers

[starleska]

I've never gone this insane over a tumblr sexyman in the making. Where am I what is going on /lh

so, this is your first time on the Tumblr Sexyman hyperfixation rodeo, eh? sitting in the back of class, smoking a cigarette i was there. ground zero. it was 2012. Tumblr was a different place at the time: SuperWhoLock. shipping gifs on every post. and then, i laid eyes on...

HIM.

welcome - deep breaths, you're going to be fine 😂💖

as a professional insane-about-fictional-characters-person, i find a Nordic Bunny comes round once in a blue moon. there have been some truly spectacular examples over the years...Sans. Alastor. Wally Darling. names which strike fear in the hearts and ovaries of many. and it's always an absolute blast 😂💖 this is a little different, as it seems Nordic has popped off over on Twitter first - quite a twist on the classic formula!! :3c like, there is truly nothing more special than the unique derangement of a fandom who have found a character who makes them all scream, and then they're just...piling on top of each other to CONTINUE screaming. and making art and vids and fic and all kinds of other fanworks. and that's happening with Nordic Bunny right now and ohhh it's so cute. i'm so happy this silly little guitar guy is making people smile so much!!! 🥺💖 so i say, join in on the fun, whatever that looks like for you!! or just sit back, relax, and let the excitement wash over you in a lovely wave. i honestly wish we had more Category 5 Autism events like this nowadays, but it's special that they only happen every now and again...and i think Nordic Bunny is a very worthy contender, given that's he waited 12 years for the adoration 😉

[kenjed]

rodeo, Montana August 2023

[oraclekleo]

A little personal note today.

Sometimes even I need a bit of a support and caring from others.

I might not be good at asking for neither of it and it's mostly because many people actually turn to me for support, encouragement, advice, mood uplifting, etc. And when I'm usually the one listening to other people's struggles, I learn how fragile they are which is not a bad thing at all. Only trouble is that when I actually struggle for once in a blue moon, I don't feel like I can ask for support from those people because if they are more fragile than me, how on Earth could I actually put my own burden on them? If it's crushing even me, how could I let them carry the weight? I simply can't make myself trust them being able to help me. And yes, it's my trust issue kicking in and I should work on it but it's really hard to do so. Especially without any kind of help which I can't ask for. It's really just a gloomy cycle.

This is not supposed to blame my friends for any of this. I do this to myself. I just don't feel so well today and my sense of responsibility is pushing me to explain, why I'm not completing readings these days.

So please, be patient with me. This isn't my first solo rodeo where I need to handle my own issues alone, I'll manage. It's just energetically very demanding and it might take me a while to be my normal self again.

Also... If you actually have a friend to whom you turn to whenever you struggle but you can't remember the last time they actually asked the same from you... they do struggle, too. Be kind to them. They might not ask you for help but they will appreciate a few kind and encouraging words now and then. 😉

Thank you for reading this far.

Kleo 🦄

(I might actually delete this later on as I despise even hinting emotional outbursts when it comes to myself, it's just a weird vibe surrounding me today)

[lowkeyrobin]

DANNY BIXLER ; rodeo

summary ; instead of deadites, danny unleashed some swag ass vampires ; just a little romance trope thing I thought of idk ; inspired heavily on lil nas x's rodeo music video bc holy shit ive been obsessed.

warnings ; language, blood, death, weapons

pronouns used ; they/them

word count ; 904

AN ; I'm not big into aus but shit this vampire au 🙏🙏🙏

masterlist

Danny Bixler unleashed a mass of hellion vampires from the ancient Necronomicon on the night of November 28th 2023. He unknowingly spawned an army of darkness through a passageway connecting this world to more, evil worlds beyond our own.

Vampires were still conscious humans, just with the extra effects of fangs, some serious leaping and sprinting abilities, extra strength and stamina, sharp ears, claws, and a new punk-inspired style. Thankfully, they only wander at night.

And their population was low, so far. Only some residents of The Monde.

In conclusion, Y/N L/N, Danny, Kassie and Bridget Bixler, also their mother, Ellie, had become blood thirsty creatures. Ever since that night, Beth had sworn to protect them in a way, they were still family to her. She sat with Mr. Fonda's gun in her lap during the day, just waiting it all out, making sure they rested peacefully in their rooms.

During the night, if they went out, Beth stayed awake, if not, she slept the night away. She wore heavy, dark circles under her eyes, keeping her usual style. If she could, she worked for some money for food, water, the essentials. She focused on keeping the Bixler's and L/N teen safe and protected from the men driving around the city wirh loaded machine guns.

You and Danny sit on the roof of the apartment complex after a meal of intestines, graciously donated by the slightly freezer-burned Gabriel. You couldn't help but feel bad, eating people you knew as your neighbors. It fucking sucked, but something inside you possessed you when you got too hungry, something you shared with the others.

Beth recalled that when she got the closest look at you on day one, your eyes rolled back into your skull, black ooze spilling from your mouth, acting vile and angry compared to your usual respectful and and chill attitude. It happened for the others too, Beth learned her lesson to keep you guys fed, for sure.

"Dan?"

He slowly looks at you, lips slightly parted, two scars on his bottom lip. He was still getting used to the feeling of fangs, even months later.

"Yeah?" He asks, running a hand through his hair.

"You wanna go down there tonight?" You ask him, looking down at the street below

He shrugs and nods in response, throwing himself over the edge of the roof. He lands on his feet, awaiting your arrival to the ground. You repeat his moves, joining him on the pavement. You fix up your trip pants, pulling the bottoms up a bit so you wouldn't completely trip over yourself. Danny fixes his leather jacket, fidgeting with one of the straps before you pull him along.

The luminescence of green lights and the full moon in the sky light your path, both pairs of boots stomping on the sidewalk. Not a single person in sight, no cars, no signs of life.

A dark, peaceful bliss with hues of green and blue.

Danny hands you an earbud, scrolling through one of his Spotify playlists. You accept the offer, putting the earbud on, listening to the clunking of your heavy boots beneath you.

Save That Shit, Lil Peep.

He grins, hands on his hips. You chuckle and shake your head, watching him hide his phone away in his jeans pocket.

He starts by singing the lyrics as you walk, his intense smiling showing off his new fangs. His eyes were slightly glazed over, as per the new usual, a blue glow reflecting off of them.

Fuck my life, can't save that girl.

Don't tell me you could save that shit.

All she want is payback for the way I always play that shit.

You join in to singing along, taking his hand in yours.

Do you wanna glow? Baby we could glow.

You run a hand through your hair, picking up the pace to feel the air against your face.

Wind therapy, you called it.

You giggle, accidently biting your lip with your new teeth as you quickly stop. Danny quickly looks at you, silently asking if you're okay. You look at your finger with a light sigh.

"Twinsies" You groan, hiding a smile

"Again" He chuckles

You suck on your lip, trying to suck the blood up to stop the bleeding.

"I can help you," Danny smirks

Before you can even process or respond what he's said, he smashes his lips into yours, sucking your lips into a kiss. He places his right hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He pulls away, wiping a smear of blood from his bottom lip with his index finger.

He looks back at you, stunned in silence. He giggles, looking away for a moment as he runs a hand through his blonde hair out of fear of rejection.

You're silent and speechless for a moment, trying to thing of something witty to say, although nothing comes to mind. You can only pull him in again, placing a quick kiss on his scarred lips.

He smiles, raising an eyebrow. "So... that wasn't a no...?"

You roll your eyes, "Dipshit"

He smiles, understanding your sarcasm, "Whatever, you liked it!"

"How long have you been planning that out?"

"Planning? Are you saying I'm not a natural flirt?"

"You aren't, Danny"

"Wha-! ...True..."

You shake your head with a smile, licking your dried lips.

"Wanna make some mischief?"

"Never say that again."

[worstvideogamesong-poll]

Worst Video Game Song Tournament Masterpost

The tournament has begun! We are currently in round 4, and each poll will be open for a week. I will also be reblogging each poll 12 hours after it is posted so that people in different time zones are able to see them more easily. If you don't want to see these reblogs, block the tag #12th hour reblog. There will be a total of 8 polls in this round. 4 polls will be posted a day for a total of 2 days.

When you vote, I would recommend listening to as much as you can of each song before voting, but how you choose is up to you. Remember to be civil in the tags and replies! Some posts will have propaganda included with the songs, but feel free to add more propaganda in the tags and replies, or send it to me in the ask box and I'll try to share it as soon as I can!

View the bracket, make predictions and more on Challonge here

View the spreadsheet of submissions here

View the original introduction post here

Read the FAQ here

Listen to the full playlist on YouTube here

Full list of polls under the cut:

Round 1

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. Vs. Odd Yo-Kai (Yo-Kai Watch)

Match 2 - K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing New Leaf) vs. Bad Feeling (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 3 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Morpho Knight (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Match 4 - Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm) vs. Fallen Down (Undertale)

Match 5 - Rodeo Time! (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. The Fade (Dragon Age Origins)

Match 6 - Rivers in the Desert (mito Remix) (Persona 5 Dancing in Starlight) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 7 - Let's Start the Killing Game (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony) vs. You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4)

Match 8 - Venus (Doom Troopers Sega Genesis) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 9 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. Boss Theme 1 (Sonic Superstars)

Match 10 - Area 4, 8, & 13 (Santa Claus Saves the Earth GBA) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 11 - Bomb Rush Blush (Remix) - Splatoon 2 vs. Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut)

Match 12 - Monkeys (Nancy Drew: Ransom of the Seven Ships) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 13 - Hazy Lane (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood)

Match 14 - Mumble Blues (Armed and Delirious (Dementia)) vs. Crazy Bus Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 15 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Professor Birch's Laboratory (Pokémon Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire)

Match 16 - Oppression (Cave Story) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 17 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Ancient Chozo Ruins (Metroid II: Return of Samus)

Match 18 - Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy N64) vs. YZAP (Yo-Kai Watch 3)

Match 19 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. Neo-Opportunist (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 20 - 50m (Donkey Kong '94) vs. Black Tar (Xenoblade Chronicles X)

Match 21 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Mushroom Road (Tales of the Abyss)

Match 22 - Fest Zest (Splatoon 2) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 23 - Drawbridge Dilemma (WarioWare: Get it Together!) vs. Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul)

Match 24 - Thrifty Megamart (Pokémon Sun/Moon) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 25 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. Spooktune (Undertale)

Match 26 - Namco Arcade 80's Retro Medley (Super Smash Bros. for Wii U) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 27 - Stage Theme (1942) vs Red-Green-Yellow-Yellow (Mother 3)

Match 28 - Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) vs. Wildfire (Honkai: Star Rail)

Match 29 - Midna's Lament (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro)

Match 30 - Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX) vs. Burning Men's Soul (Persona Trinity Soul)

Match 31 - Built to Scale (Rhythm Heaven Fever) vs. Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop)

Match 32 - Just Leave Me Alone (OMORI) vs. Denegul (Lagoon)

Match 33 - Now or Never! (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages)

Match 34 - Heart and Soul (Cutscene) (Sonic Frontiers) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 35 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Rise & Shine, Ursine! (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony)

Match 36 - Belly Flop (Splatoon 3) vs. Lemon Jelly (The Sims 2)

Match 37 - mmm yess put the tree on my pizza (Pizza Tower) vs. The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia)

Match 38 - Comin' at ya, My girl (Yakuza 5) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 39 - Battle (Field) (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild) vs. Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity)

Match 40 - Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater) vs. Shipwreckin' (Splatoon 2)

Match 41 - Tem Shop (Undertale) vs. Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2)

Match 42 - Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon) vs. Path of Pain (Hollow Knight)

Match 43 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Pathetic House (Undertale)

Match 44 - Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension) vs. Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy 2)

Match 45 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Dragon's Den (Pokémon Gold/Silver)

Match 46 - Great Bay Temple (The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 47 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Honeylune Ridge (Super Mario Odyssey)

Match 48 - Close in the Distance (Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 49 - Desert (Super Mario Bros.) (Super Mario Maker 2) vs. National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade)

Match 50 - Dubble Bath (DIY Remix) (Splatoon 2) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man the Animated Series)

Match 51 - Options (Sonic Spinball) vs. Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2)

Match 52 - Twilit Battle (The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 53 - 25m (Donkey Kong) vs. Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace)

Match 54 - Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52) vs. Joke's End (Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga)

Match 55 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Long Elevator (Undertale)

Match 56 - Conspiracy (わるだくみ) (Muv Luv) vs. Opening (Sonic Blast 3D 5)

Match 57 - Digital Roots (Deltarune Chapter 2) vs. Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces)

Match 58 - Victory Road (Pokémon HeartGold/SoulSilver) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 59 - Donut Plains (Super Mario Kart) vs. Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3)

Match 60 - Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill) vs. Cole Train Rap (Gears of War)

Match 61 - Tragic Prince (Castlevania: Symphony of the Night) vs. Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2)

Match 62 - Vital (Fornite) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D)

Match 63 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Sub-Tree Area (Kirby Super Star)

Match 64 - Maximum Power (After Burner (Amiga)) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 2

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing: New Leaf)

Match 2 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm)

Match 3 - The Fade (Dragon Age: Origins) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 4 - You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 5 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 6 - Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 7 - Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 8 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 9 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy (N64))

Match 10 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. 50m (Donkey Kong)

Match 11 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 12 - Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 13 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 14 - Stage Theme (1942) vs. Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Match 15 - Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro) vs. Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX)

Match 16 - Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop (PC)) vs. Denegul (Lagoon(SNES))

Match 17 - Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 18 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Belly Flop (Splatoon 3)

Match 19 - The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 20 - Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity) vs. Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater)

Match 21 - Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2) vs. Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon (NES))

Match 22 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension)

Match 23 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 24 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 25 - National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man: The Animated Series)

Match 26 - Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 27 - Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace) vs. Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52)

Match 28 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Opening (Sonic 3D Blast 5)

Match 29 - Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 30 - Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3) vs. Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill)

Match 31 - Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D(SNES))

Match 32 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 3

[monstraduplicia]

daddy's little girl he broke in thirty: a dean winchester mix

1. abuse me - silverchair 2. adam raised a cain - bruce springsteen 3. alcohol - sisyphus 4. alibis - marianas trench 5. animals - nickelback 6. anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas 7. black-eyed - placebo 8. blown wide open - big wreck 9. blunt force concussion - the dirty nil 10. break me - mcfly 11. burn & shine - the posies 12. call of the playground - shudder to think 13. carry that weight - the beatles 14. christian brothers - heatmiser, elliott smith 15. colossus - idles 16. coward's son - the ballroom thieves 17. daddy - korn 18. daddy's daughter - merricat crellin 19. damage control - the dirty nil 20. degenerate - the jesus and the mary chain 21. the devil you know (god is a man) - face to face 22. discipline - nine inch nails 23. don't let the sun catch you cryin' - jeff buckley 24. the drowners - suede 25. father - the front bottoms 26. father and son - cat stevens 27. father figure - george michael 28. father of mine - everclear 29. feel the pain - dinosaur jr 30. fiddle about - the who 31. forgiven - alanis morissette 32. fortunate son - creedence clearwater revival 33. freak - silverchair 34. friends in the sky - the dirty nil 35. fuckin' up young - the dirty nil 36. ghost - sky ferreira 37. girls - the dare 38. good boy - patriarchy 39. hang yer moon - the dirty nil 40. hard times - ethel cain 41. he needs me - shelley duvall 42. i burn - toadies 43. i know it's over - the smiths 44. i'm with you - avril lavigne 45. i need somebody - the stooges 46. infra-red - placebo 47. i woke up in a strange place - jeff buckley 48. judge yr'self - manic street preachers 49. last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - the smiths 50. life becoming a landslide - manic street preachers 51. lightsabre cocksucking blues - mclusky 52. loverboy - you me at six 53. low self opinion - rollins band 54. monster side - addict 55. moodswing whiskey - jeff buckley 56. mr. self destruct - nine inch nails 57. nancy boy - placebo 58. o death - rhiannon giddens, francesco turris 59. oh comely - neutral milk hotel 60. pain - four star mary 61. papa was a rodeo - the magnetic fields 62. please hurt me - the crystals 63. please please please let me get what i want - the smiths 64. prayer - big wreck 65. pretension//repulsion - manic street preachers 66. renegade - styx 67. runnin' with the devil - van halen 68. samarians - idles 69. send the pain below - chevelle 70. sex and violence - the exploited 71. the shining - badly drawn boy 72. simple man - deftones 73. slab - silverchair 74. song against sex - neutral milk hotel 75. story of isaac - leonard cohen 76. (they long to be) close to you - carpenters 77. thoroughfare - ethel cain 78. a trophy fathers trophy son - sleeping with sirens 79. two-headed boy - neutral milk hotel 80. two-headed boy pt. 2 - neutral milk hotel 81. unloveable - the smiths 82. wanted man - ratt 83. the weight - the band 84. western nights - ethel cain 85. what will you say - jeff buckley 86. whipping post - allman brothers band 87. you are a runner and i am my father's son - wolf parade 88. you can't always get what you want - the rolling stones 89. your flesh is so nice - jeff buckley 90. youth gone wild - skid row

[bothkindsofmusic]

Is this thing on? Been a lonnnnnng while, but I want to test the waters to see if there's an audience for country music on Tumblr 2023.

I've been making a weekly playlist in lieu of a radio show for a couple months now. Figure that'd be a good place to start.

If you like country music that's outside the mainstream, check out this playlist. It's full of new and recent releases. I kick it off with a classic country song and send it off with Willie Nelson. In between you'll find music from artists making country music in their own way with their own style. While the music changes every week, the playlist stays in the same spot. Plus, there's an archive where I retire the old playlists.

If you find something you like, let me know and give the artists a follow on instagram.

Track list:

Ray Charles - Georgia on My Mind

The Waymores - Greener Pastures

Christopher Seymore, South Texas Tweek - I Can Get off on You

Amanda Donald - Get in Line

Marty Bush - Turn Down the Lights

Nora Kelly Band - Rodeo Clown

David Quinn - Down Home

Zach Bryan, Sierra Ferrell - Holy Roller

Turnpike Troubadours - A Cat in the Rain

Sarah Jane Scouten - Wanderlust

Nick Shoulders - All Bad

The Two Tracks - In the Morning

Jim Lauderdale, The Po' Ramblin' Boys, Del McCoury - Long And Lonesome Letting Go

Sentimental Family Band - Never Love Again

Willy Tea Taylor, The Fellership - National Treasure

David Garnham and the Reasons to Live, Gleny Rae Virus - Long Way Round

Nathan Mongol Wells - Honest Drinking

Lola Kirke, First Aid Kit - All My Exes Live in L.A.

Abbigale Dawn - Ex Boyfriend Blues

Christian Parker, Earl Poole Ball, JayDee Maness - You Ain't Going Nowhere

Miss Georgia Peach - Silver Threads and Gold Needles

Vince Gill, Paul Franklin - Walkin' Show and Thinkin' About Her

Madeline Hawthorne - Neon Wasteland

The Howdies - Buddies

Katie Mae & the Lubrication - Hard Livin'

The Deslondes, Sam Doores - Howl at the Moon

Brit Taylor - If You Don't Wanna Love Me

Izaak Opatz - Shampoo

Ruby Oland - Life Without Love

Lucas Hudgins - All in My Head

S.G. Goodman - Space And Time

Woody Woodworth & The Piners - When Them Dogwoods Bloom

Zara Alexandra - Greasy Spoon

Televisionaries, Les Greene - Airbound

Megg Farrell - Damaged Goods

Willie Nelson - I Never Cared for You

[mostbored69]

Water My Flowers When I'm Gone (Gojo x Reader)

The wind picks up your dress, shredded to almost two pieces from the fight and reflecting the moonlight off its white fabric - much like Gojo’s hair. You stare at each other in silence, both your chests heaving up and down to catch up on due breathing. A night like this, so silent and peaceful, the breeze warm to the skin, doesn’t exactly call for an execution. No headhunt needed to make it better, though here you stand. At the end of your wits, at the mercy of the special grade.

It didn’t use to be like this. On friendly terms, some might say, you used to be. Something like that, god knows what it was. But since you left the school, got roped up with some shady people and curses alike, it’s put a clear target on your back. And who better to send than someone who knew the way you fought, all the tactics you could come up with on the spot?

Gojo’s lips slowly curve into a smile, menacing in nature. The veins on his muscular arms protrude his sweat-covered skin. You weren’t going to go down without a fight, and the frustration hangs in his features. He’d hoped to get it done quickly and without thought, but thinking he did. Each movement of yours, so familiar to the old days, it made him remember more than needed for this job. Even moves he’d taught you all those years ago were thrown back at him tonight, each one further halting his attacks.

He could’ve ended it within seconds had he wanted. Kill you without a single touch. But he felt a small, last rodeo due before he actually went through with it. That, however, backfired on his resolve. Fun it was, he couldn’t deny - more like a practiced choreography instead of a fight. You’d tried your best nevertheless, clinging onto any hope of survival. But now your muscles ache, your energy dissipating from just breathing.

“Satoru,” you gasp, slanting your eyes at him from both the pain and abhor. His smile cracks ever so slightly, just a tiny twitch of muscle, but you noticed it even from afar. You lay your head back into your neck, staring right up at the moon and sky. It’s only a small solace for the end of your life, but seeing them one last time is a privilege. “Do it quickly this time, will you?”

He examines the gash on your now exposed abdomen before slowly closing the distance. You don’t flinch, even hearing his steps. Still watching the clouds sweeping across the moon, maybe it would’ve broken your heart to look at him now.

You feel his proximity way before his touch. Soft. Never has he touched you so softly. His fingers caress your cheek almost hesitantly, before pulling your head back forward to meet his gaze. His smile has disappeared, and an unknown emotion is now settled in his eyes.

He’s turned off Infinity. This could be your last chance at survival.

Your arms remain limb by your side, and he watches as not a single inch of your body moves to attack. The unknown emotion spreads throughout his features, where you had expected a triumphant smirk.

“Do you not wish to live?” His question comes out of the blue, and all you can do is blink at him momentarily. There is no true answer you can come up with right this second. You wish to, of course, walk away with even half your life. But you did not wish, however, to keep fighting.

In the confusion of his question, you chuckle breathily; a reaction that seems to lighten him up just for a moment. The severity of this situation could not be covered with any faked grin, any baffled laugh. It sits right there in the air, reminded with every breath you take.

“Irrelevant question, Gojo.” His left eye twitches at his name, but he stays silent. “Will you kill me, or will you not?”

“I want you to fight ‘til death. Not kill you,” he says through gritted teeth, but you fail to place where his frustration comes from. Killing an old friend… not an easy job. Still, for God’s sake, it’s Gojo’s job. A man who doesn’t shy away from that kind of thing.

His fingers travel from your cheeks to your neck, checking out the sensitive skin without breaking eye contact. He could’ve done it right now, quick and easy like he could’ve at any point before. And much like before, he doesn’t.

“I don’t want to keep fighting you. Do you not spare your targets to a peaceful death, not even once? I… I’m exhausted. Just please, get it over with.” Letting your head fall to the side, relaxing every muscle of your body to be vulnerable, it would give him a big and strong handful of your neck. Again, he doesn’t take you up on the offer.

“You’ve gotten more pathetic since the last time we saw each other. No spirit. No urgency. Even your fighting lacks motivation.” Finally, his fingers close into a grip around your throat. A loose one, and his other hand stays lowered, but still one step closer to release. “It’s like killing a pet. You make it a bigger sin than it has to be.” His words don’t strike a particular nerve within you. Quite the contrary, they don’t make you feel much. No matter what he says, he’s still here with the clear intent of taking your life.

“Like sinning has ever stopped you from committing,” you counter, and that same, smug grin reappears on his lips. Not as strongly this time, but it’s there, no doubt. “So, how pathetic am I really, when you can’t even kill me?” With a single motion, he turns you around. Gasping at the pain, at the suddenness of his action, you fall back against him as the grip around your neck tightens.

“Very, very pathetic. Turning this into a mercy kill. You should fear a little, at least.” His voice is close to your ear, and the heavy breathing that follows tickles all your senses. Nevertheless, this isn’t enough to get on your knees and start begging for your life. Much less to fight back against an unstoppable force.

“Mercy kill this conversation and I might bitch slap you as a reward. It’s more exhausting to talk like this, you know?” He laughs. Honestly, at that. The sound vibrates against your back, but his fingers remain their hold even with the short-lived delight. You’re tired. Maybe a couple laughs here and there could make your death a little more refreshing.

“There it is, that brattiness. Makes me almost want to let you escape.” His other hand comes into play at last, wrapping around your torso right above the open wound still tainting your dress. For a second, he stays silent. Like contemplating something, weighing his options. When he speaks again, his voice is but a whisper. “My point still stands. Killing you like this isn’t gonna do it, sweetheart. I want to see you point a knife at me until your very last breath.”

“I won’t grant you that wish, Gojo. Easing your guilt won’t be the last thing I do, even if I wanted to fight.” His fingers tap against your naked skin, feigning reflection.

“Then what do I do with you… hm…” As much as you want to sigh, your lungs lack the capacity for such controlled breathing at this very moment. With his hand being so close to your wound, it makes you hyper-aware of its vulnerability, its throbbing pain. “If I propose a deal, will you promise to listen?”

Deals with Gojo are a double edged sword. You’ve seen him strike ‘deals’ with a diverse many of his opponents and targets, and never have they turned out in anyone’s favor but his - even if it let them live to see another day. But you reckon by his proximity, by the way he’d stretched out this fight, that he’s not going to end your life tonight either way.

“Go ahead, let me hear it.” There’s still a tiny bit of hope left that he feels an inch of sympathy for your situation, especially with your history together. He knows your motives well, why you made the decisions that you made, but also never expressing either approval or disapproval towards them. So, this could go either way.

“I’ll simply wait. I’m a patient man, remember? To make it fair, I’ll even keep Infinity off. While you, sweetheart, soak in more of that fear. Knowing I can come in at any second and break that pretty little neck should get your blood pumping, no?” To drive his point home, his grip on your throat loosens momentarily, before tightening again just as fast. “We can’t let you just wander around, however. You’re still my responsibility, so…”

Seeing his abilities in action after such a long time throws you for a loop. You never understood them fully even back then, how much power is at his fingertips to bend whatever space, whatever matter, even at leisure. Seeing that warp in space now in front of you, your brain struggles to comprehend it. Instead of the alley you stood, and still stand in, before you is now a living room drowned in darkness.

Not waiting for your reaction and presumably applause, he pushes you onward into the room. You recognize it, especially the smell of him engulfing every piece of furniture. His own apartment, his abode outside of the school. Very few people knew of its existence - he’d made an effort to keep it private. Even standing in it now feels out of place, like you’re not meant to see it again after such a long time.

He releases the grip on you, and when you turn around to face him, the entire alley has already disappeared. The words get stuck in your throat. Everything about your confusion and your pain stays silent as all you do is gawk.

“I forgot to wait for your answer. Who really cares, though, right?” Smiling, he goes deeper into the apartment, quickly disappearing into the bathroom before greeting you again with a first aid kit in hand. He motions for you to sit down on the couch, and, baffled as you are, you do so without a fuss. “This is going to hurt, but we need you stitched back together for a good fight.” As he rummages through the kit, your jaw locks in fearful anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this would be better than death.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”, you ask, answering your own question when you watch him hold up a needle with another mischievous smirk.You try to inch back, but there’s not much farther you can go against the couch. “Hey, would it not be more likely to heal on its own than having you… mess around here?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be childish. Has the blood loss gotten to you or what? At this rate, you’ll be dead by sunrise. And where’s the fun in that…” Looking down at the wound, you must give him some credit. You lost less blood than initially anticipated, but leaving it open could mean your demise. Still, that might be the better alternative to whatever game he wants to play.

However, a forgotten, self-preserving bone in your body comes to life, and you shut your eyes tightly. Awaiting the excruciating procedure, your fingers tremble violently. But before the pain starts, you instead feel something against your lips.

“Swallow, sweetheart,” he coos, and you mindlessly follow his instruction. Whatever he could give you can’t make the situation any worse. Taking the two pills without even opening your eyes, he chuckles. “Good. Very good. Now let me know if it hurts.” You furrow your brows at his words, wanting to slap his head but missing completely without your sight.

“Just do it already,” you hiss at him, only making him laugh more. The sound of it distracts you slightly, and before you can prepare again, the needle has found its way into your skin.

Stitch in, stitch out, feeling the string glide through your flesh and pulling the gash close. You grabbed onto his shoulders tightly only one stitch in, and even after it’s done, your grip doesn’t loosen.

“See? All good again.” Before you can open your eyes to inspect it, he suddenly shuts your mouth tightly with one hand. Perplexed, you look at him, but this time he doesn’t wear his smile. Only a second later, you scream into his hand at the burning pain pulsing across the wound. The disinfectant, or whatever he used, trickling down your stomach and mixing with the blood before the remnants of your dress soak in the mixture. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets you move around frantically and deal with the pain.

It takes quite a while to calm back down. Your vision is blurry and your body remains shaking from the aftermath. Once he’s sure of the fading pain, however, he lifts his hand from your mouth again. Looking apologetically at the very least, he throws everything back into the kit carelessly.

“I lied before, but now you’re all good again,” he smiles, sitting down next to you on the couch. Still catching your breath, he examines the mess you sit in. The fabric, formerly a dress, seems to cling more onto life than you did today, and he feels the need to rip it off completely to end its misery. Before he gets to work, however, he gives you some more time to calm down.

Your eyes flutter open to meet his still analytical gaze. Too little energy to question it, and in too much pain to squirm when he repositions himself to, again, slide his hand around your waist dangerously close to the wound. You’d not seen him grab the pocket knife, now in his hands, from wherever he kept it. The sight of it doesn’t alarm you much, but the implication it carries evokes a mix of emotions.

He grabs a handful of the dress after retracting his touch from your tender flesh. The blade finds traction against the fabric, slicing through it slowly and delicately. It’s all a ploy, you realized. How easy it could’ve been for him to tear it with his bare hands, but he made a point of using the knife instead, letting the blunt side glide over your skin. To show how, even with a weapon in his hands, it’s only an unimportant tool in the shadow of his own strength.

You know he wished for you to fear, but even when the fabric falls from your shoulders to expose you completely, only apathy prevails. His eyebrow raises as he pulls the remnants of the dress from underneath you, throwing it over his shoulder onto the floor.

“No underwear, huh? Does your new life not treat you to such privileges?”, he mocks, taking in the view in front of him like it is his right.

“You caught me at a bad time.” Gulping down a breath, there’s no effort spent to cover yourself. It doesn’t matter, really, if you did or didn’t.

“Speaking of, whose place did I even find you in? You know, before I threw you out the window.” When you give him no answers, his lips curve into that familiar smirk once again. “Fine, keep your secrets. Let’s just hope you won’t be too missed.” Those are the first words that stirred something inside you. Especially the weighty truth they carried, it hit a nerve. You could count on one hand the people that would even notice your absence, your death, and even less of those who’d care enough to feel any way about it.

Still, this doesn’t fill you with fear. More so with a detrimental emptiness, and it’s clear on your face. A grief for grief, a silent wish for someone, anyone, to remember your life. Not to miss it, but recognizing it is enough. Maybe think of you when the rain pours for a little too long, or when a flower faces the moon. Not to miss you, but remembering you is enough.

Gojo sighs as he stands up. It’s fun to play with the little feelings you have, to provoke them to show. But when they actually do, he feels the need to pull out of the game. Not knowing what to do with them, especially emotions that only rarely cross his path. Fear, he knows how to handle. But whatever this is isn’t his expertise.

He takes off his black shirt in a quick move, pulling it over your head for you to wear. You don’t protest. There’s not much to say that isn’t futile and in vain, so you let him pull your arms through the holes before he sits back down. Noticing a bit of your blood on his arms from his red-tainted fingers, a thought crosses your mind.

The previous fight, how he absolutely crushed you in every aspect. Looking at his naked upper body, his torso is clear of any injury. Not that you thought you could land a single scratch on him, but the way he moved throughout the entire fight spoke of deep understanding. He didn’t have to outmaneuver your attacks, didn’t have to block them in the slightest. Not with Infinity. However, he did. He knew when you’d lift your leg for a kick, which trajectory it would take and how to counter each movement effectively. He knew it all too well, even after such a long time.

Gojo notices your thoughtful look, and he raises an eyebrow in response. Diligently, you lift a hand to touch his skin. Those tight muscles almost distort your vision, unscathed from his dangerous life. He didn’t have to counter. But he did.

When you move closer, he only watches in slight confusion. You can’t twist and turn just yet, the pain would be unbearable, but it’s enough to get near. He guides your movement with a hand to your hip, still uncertain of what your plan is. He hadn’t flinched when you touched him. Again, not much mattered as of now.

“You… You’d remember me, right?” With your voice almost cracking, holding back the emotions is a hard task. Though, exposing everything clearly to him isn’t what you want. He’d understand, without your voice having to crack.

“I did. I will,” he reassures, still not fully understanding what you plan to do. A weight lifts from your chest, relief washing over you at even that short of an answer. The feeling clouds your mind as you stare into his eyes, eyes you have the perk of witnessing.

May it be desperation, longing, whatever draws you closer to him. Stockholm, survival mechanism, you don’t know. And you thank God that it doesn’t matter, when you place a soft, almost thankful kiss on his lips.

Full version on AO3 (linked). Please enjoy, have a good day and stay safe!