#chestnut cattle ranch

[chestnutcattleranch]

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME SMELLS JUST AS SWEET

Layla's POV

Well, it's not often - if ever - that we have taken horses in for training. This gal needs to learn the basics - as you probably can see, she is very Arabian - and get comfy around the cattle as well, as owner wants to sell her to one of the cattle farms nearby, when she has completed her training here. That is if I don't take too much of a liking to her, and snatch her right up!

Because she is really a literal sweetheart. Yeah, she is not that well behaved - yet! - and she kinda nips at your clothes a lot, but she is very sweet! Just needs a firm, but loving hand to handle her, and show her the right way.

Just a few extra pictures of the lady in question! She is an Araloosa, not sure about her colour though. Barely 3 years old, and has loads of energy. She doesn't have an actual name either, but I play around with just nicknaming her Towanda, Wanda for short. We will see if that catches on for the other staff members as well. I am sure of one thing though. My Pa' adores her.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Food History

B.C.

10,000 - almonds, cherries, bread, flour, soup

8,000 - wheat ⚜ 7,000 - wine, beer, pistachios, pig, goat, sheep, lard

6,500 - cattle domestication, apples ⚜ 6,000 - tortilla, dates, maize

5,000 - honey, ginger, quinoa, avocados, potatoes, milk, yogurt

4,000 - focaccia, watermelons, grapes, pomegranates

3,200 - chicken domestication ⚜ 3,000 - butter, onion, garlic, apricots

2,737 - tea ⚜ 2,500 - olive oil, seaweed, duck ⚜ 2,300 - saffron

2,000 - peaches, liquorice, marshmallow, pasta, ham, sesame seeds

1,500 - chocolate, vanilla ⚜ 1,200 - sugar ⚜ 1,000 - mangoes, oats, pickles

900 - pears, tomatoes ⚜ 700 - cinnamon ⚜ 600 - bananas, poppy seeds

500 - artichokes ⚜ 400 - pastries, appetizers, vinegar

300 - parsley ⚜ 200 - turkeys, asparagus, rhubarb ⚜ 65 - quince

1st—13th Century

1st Century - chestnuts, lobster, crab, shrimp, truffles, blueberries, raspberries, capers, kale, blood (as food), fried chicken, foie gras, French toast, omelettes, rice pudding, flan, cheesecake, pears in syrup

3rd Century - lemons ⚜ 5th - pretzels ⚜ 6th - eggplant

7th Century - spinach, kimchi ⚜ 9th - coffee, nutmeg

10th Century - flower waters, Peking duck, shark's fin soup

11th Century - baklava, corned beef, cider, lychees, seitan

12th Century - breadfruit, artichokes, gooseberries

13th Century - ravioli, lasagne, mozzarella, pancakes, waffles, couscous

14th—19th Century

14th Century - kebabs, moon cakes, guacamole, pie, apple pie, crumpets, gingerbread

15th Century - coconuts, Japanese sushi and sashimi, pineapples, marmalade, risotto, marzipan, doughnuts, hot dogs

16th Century - pecans, cashews (in India), Japanese tempura, vanilla (in Europe), fruit leather, skim milk, sweetbreads, salsa, quiche, teriyaki chicken, English trifle, potato salad

17th Century - treacle, pralines, coffee cake, modern ice cream, maple sugar, rum, French onion soup, cream puffs, bagels, pumpkin pie, lemonade, croissants, lemon meringue pie

18th Century - root beer, tapioca, French fries, ketchup, casseroles, mayonnaise, eggnog, soda water, lollipops, sangria, muffins, crackers, chowder, croquettes, cupcakes, sandwiches, apple butter, souffle, deviled eggs

19th Century - toffee, butterscotch, cocoa, Turkish delight, iodized salt, vanilla extract, modern marshmallows, potato chips, fish and chips, breakfast cereal, Tabasco sauce, Kobe beef, margarine, unsalted butter, Graham crackers, fondant, passionfruit, saltwater taffy, milkshakes, pizza, peanut butter, tea bags, cotton candy, jelly beans, candy corn, elbow macaroni, fondue, wedding cake, canapes, gumbo, ginger ale, carrot cake, bouillabaisse, cobbler, peanut brittle, pesto, baked Alaska, iced tea, fruit salad, fudge, eggs Benedict, Waldorf salad

20th Century

1901 - peanut butter and jelly ⚜ 1904 - banana splits ⚜ 1905 - NY pizza

1906 - brownies, onion rings ⚜ 1907 - aioli

1908 - Steak Diane, buttercream frosting ⚜ 1909 - shrimp cocktail

1910 - Jell-O (America's most famous dessert)

1910s - orange juice ⚜ 1912 - Oreos, maraschino cherries, fortune cookies

1912 - Chicken a la King, Thousand Island dressing

1914 - Fettuccine Alfredo ⚜ 1915 - hush puppies

1917 - marshmallow fluff ⚜ 1921 - Wonder Bread, zucchini

1919 - chocolate truffles ⚜ 1922 - Vegemite, Girl Scout cookies

1923 - popsicles ⚜ 1924 - frozen foods, pineapple upside-down cake, Caesar salad, chocolate-covered potato chips

1927 - Kool-Aid, s'mores, mayonnaise cake ⚜ 1929 - Twizzlers

1930s - Pavlova cakes, Philly cheese steak, Pigs in blankets, margaritas, banana bread, Cajun fried turkey ⚜ 1931 - souffle, refrigerator pie

1933 - chocolate covered pretzels ⚜ 1936 - no-bake cookies

1937 - Reubens, chicken Kiev, SPAM, Krispy Kreme

1938 - chicken and waffles ⚜ 1939 - seedless watermelon

1941 - Rice Krispies treats, Monte Cristo sandwiches ⚜ 1943 - nachos

1946 - chicken burgers, tuna melts, Nutella ⚜ 1947- chiffon cake

1950s - chicken parm, Irish coffee, cappuccino, smoothies, frozen pizza, diet soda, TV Dinners, ranch dressing ⚜ 1951 - bananas foster

1953 - coronation chicken ⚜ 1956 - German chocolate cake, panini

1957 - Quebec Poutine ⚜ 1958 - Instant ramen noodles, crab rangoon, lemon bars ⚜ 1960s - beef Wellington, green eggs and ham, red velvet cake

1963 - black forest cake ⚜ 1964 - Belgian waffles, Pop Tarts, Buffalo wings, ants on a log, pita bread ⚜ 1965 - Gatorade, Slurpees

1966 - chocolate fondue ⚜ 1967 - high fructose corn syrup

1970s - California rolls, pasta primavera, tiramisu ⚜ 1971 - fajitas

1975 - hicken tikka masala ⚜ 1980 - turducken

1980s - Panko, portobello mushrooms, bubble tea, chicken nuggets, Sriracha, Red Bull energy drink, everything bagels

1990s - artisan breads, Jamaican jerk ⚜ 1991 - turkey bacon, chocolate molten lava cake, earthquake cake ⚜ 1993 - broccolini

1995 - Tofurkey ⚜ 1997 - grape tomatoes

21st Century

2002 - flat iron steak, tear-free onions ⚜ 2007 - Kool-Aid pickles, cake pops

2008 - Mexican funnel cake ⚜ 2013 - cronuts, test tube burgers

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[nurse-floyd]

Nurse!reader watching rhett have a proper nasty fall and being too panicked to properly help?

The early morning sun had just begun to rise in the sky as it casted shades of pinks and oranges across the wide-open fields as you and Rhett rode side by side. He was on Toro, his beautiful black stallion and you were on Jupiter, your chestnut mare. The pair of you were rounding up the cattle and moving them to the next field over for grazing, it was a peaceful routine that you both enjoyed, you more than Rhett. It was a welcome break from the hectic life in the ER as a nurse. The familiar sound of the herd trotting along beside you, the birds as they began their morning song and Rhett at your side. It was perfect.

Rhett spurred Toro on, a few paces ahead as he guided a few stragglers back towards the main group when the stallion suddenly lurched forward and spooked. The horse reared once, twice and then bucked. You barely had time to react as you watched Rhett lurch sideways with the movement as he fell hard to the ground and landed with a sickening thud.

“Rhett!” you screamed, your voice cracking with panic as you saw him hit the floor.

The world seemed to slow around you as you watched his head slam into the earth, his Stetson abandoned at his side. You sat frozen on Jupiters back, who had clearly not had the same reaction than her stable mate. The thundering of your pulse seemed to drown everything else out, your breath caught in your throat unable to breathe as you waited for him to move and show you any sign of life. But you waited. And waited. Rhett didn’t move. You wanted to move, wanted nothing more than to jump down from Jupiter and run to his side, to check if he was alive and breathing, but your body felt like lead, your mind raced with every possibility but your body wouldn’t cooperate. You knew the signs all too well. Shock.

Toro reared again, a loud and sharp whinny came from his throat almost as if he knew and you were snapped out of your shock as. He stood in a protective stance by his master.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you finally scrambled down from Jupiter, nearly tripping over your feet in your rush to get to him. You called his name the whole time, “Rhett? Rhett baby, can you hear me?”

You skidded to your knees beside him. Rhett was lying on his back, his breathing shallow. A new wave of fear washed over you as you realised just how still he was.

“Rhett, baby. Please. Open your eyes for me.”

Working in an ER surrounded by rural countryside, you were not a stranger to seeing these sorts of injuries. But this wasn’t any patient, this was Rhett. Your Rhett. Sure, you’d seen him fall a fair number of times, bull riding and on the ranch, but he always got up and dusted himself off and shook it off with a laugh.

“Please, Rhett,” you practically begged. Your hands shook with your own fear and adrenaline as they hovered above his body. You knew what to do. This is what you were trained for, but it all went out of the window at the sight of him motionless.

He groaned in response, and it was enough to snap you from the fog that had clouded your rational nurse brain. You leaned over him, you hands came to rest on his chest as you rubbed gently up and down to rouse him, “that’s it baby, come back to me.”

Finally, his eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, until they met your own. “Darlin’…? he groaned.

“Stay still, I’m just going to check you over. Let me know if anything hurts.”

You took a deep breath to try and compose yourself and allow yourself to think. You ran you hands gently over the back of his head and felt the large egg size lump that had begun to form, but with the fall he’d took, you weren’t surprised. Next you checked his neck, thankfully feeling nothing out of the ordinary.

“Just stay still, don’t move yet,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You pulled the phone from your pocket, hands shaking so badly you could hardly unlock it. “I’m gonna call for help, alright? I’ll get Perry or your dad and we’ll get you back to the house. Just stay awake for me.”

Rhett couldn’t miss your hands as they shook, his own hand reached up to grip yours and steady them. “I’m okay,” he reassured as he tried to sit up with a wince.

“No, you’re not alright. Just stay still,” you couldn’t help the tears that began to spill over at the sight of him so hurt and vulnerable.

His hands gripped yours lightly, his touch grounding as he steadied your hands. “You’re alright. Just breathe,” he rasped as he attempted to comfort you, even in the state he was in. You squeezed his hand back, drawing strength from each other.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you opened your phone and put it on speaker beside him. As soon as you heard Cecilia’s voice, you calmed a little more and you were able to continue checking him over, despite the panic that still simmered beneath the surface.

You ran your hands over his body, your training coming back as your mind finally cleared. You apologised when your hands touched a particularly tender spot on his chest, knowing he’d likely cracked a rib or two. He groaned when you touched another spot on his ankle, but thankfully it didn’t feel broken.

Cecilia, ever the comforting figure in both of your lives, reassured you that Perry and Royal were both on their way in the truck as you helped Rhett sit up, finally reassured his injuries weren’t too serious. Still, you knew it wouldn’t stop you checking him over a little more thoroughly back at the house, knowing he wasn’t going to want to go to the hospital unless he absolutely had to.

Rhett reached his hand up and ran his thumb across your cheek as he wiped away a tear, still wanting to comfort you despite the face you knew he was in pain. “I’m alright,” he reassured, but you could see the pain etched into every line of his face and knew it was a lie.

As if sensing the pair of yours distress, Toro trotted closer to your side and nudged in between the pair of you.

Rhett laughed a little but groaned as the movement aggravated the pain in his ribs, “thanks for that bud.”

The horse nudged him again, still being gentle as if he knew Rhett was hurt and snorted.

“Alright bud, I’m okay. I promise. You’re not in trouble,” he reassured Toro, but you knew it was as much for you as it was for the horse. “I’m okay.”

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar rumble of Royal’s truck as it approached. The door swung open before the vehicle had even come to a full stop as Perry ran over and Royal followed closely behind.

“Hey,” Royal called, his face etched with worry as he jogged over. “What happened?” he asked as he looked in between you and Rhett.

“Toro spooked and he hit the ground hard, think he’s got a couple of broken ribs and his ankle’s bust,” you explained, a little calmer now.

Rhett groaned, “‘m fine…,” he grumbled weakly.

“The hell you are,” Royal replied with the tone only a dad could muster.

Perry rested a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “we’ll get him home. You go with Royal and I’ll bring Jupiter and Toro home,” he said quietly.

You nodded, still with Rhett’s hand tightly in your own and Toro close by, his large frame close enough, his warmth and presence an added comfort. Perry and Royal helped Rhett to his feet and towards the truck with you following close behind.

As they laid him carefully across the backseat, you climbed in beside him. Perry made his way back to the horses and climbed on Toro’s back and gathered Jupiter’s reins as he prepared to make his own way back. The cows would just have to stay where they were for now.

The drive back to the Abbott ranch felt like a blur. You kept your eyes on Rhett for the entire time and your hand never left his own. You knew you wouldn’t be able to rest fully until you’d checked him over thoroughly.

When you finally arrived back, Cecilia was waiting and helped you and Royal get Rhett inside, supporting him between the three of you as you made your way toward the living room.

With Rhett on the sofa, you sat on the coffee table opposite him, your forehead resting against his. You didn’t care if you cried anymore as a tear escaped down your cheek. “You scared the hell out of me, Abbott,” you whispered.

His fingers curled around yours, “I’m sorry, darlin,’ he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

Cecilia returned, a few ice packs in hand and your rucksack filled with various nursing supplies. She helped you settle him, the ice packs over the various bumps and bruises you knew were going to come out more in the next few hours. You’d check him over and fix him up, but right now you were just happy to be together and to have him safe and home.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Threats and killings increase in the area where agribusiness expands in the Brazilian Amazon rainforest

A small farmer was shot dead due to a land dispute; the murderer is a big farmer who turned himself into the police

A rural worker was found dead on Wednesday (29) in the town of Labrea, Amazonas state, northern Brazil. Nicknamed Jacozinho, José Jacó Cosotle, 55, left his house last Sunday morning (26) to pick up chestnuts, but didn't return home. He was a resident of the Marielle Franco encampment. His body was found next to a motorcycle with a gunshot wound to the chin. The case is under investigation.

On January 14, another worker was killed in the region. Small farmer Francisco do Nascimento Melo, known as Cafu, was shot dead in the rural area of the municipality of Boca do Acre, Amazonas state, next to Labrea. His son, a 14-year-old teenager, saw the scene. Four days after the murder, farmer Valdir Silva, or Valdirzão, turned himself into the police.

Hours later, while the suspect was giving testimony at a police station, Civil Police Chief Paulo Mavigner posted a video on his Instagram profile, sharing general information about the case. “Valdir Silva is responsible for the killing of Cafu, a fact that happened amid an agrarian conflict and which generated big repercussions in the city of Boca do Acre,” he said. 

Boca do Acre and Labrea are two of the 32 municipalities in Amacro, an area between the states of Amazonas, Acre and Rondônia, where agribusiness activities are expanding, particularly cattle ranching. From 1985 to 2023, the Amacro region lost approximately 7 million hectares of native vegetation, which was converted to agricultural use, according to data from the Amazon Institute for Man and the Environment (Imazon).

It is also a region with high rates of deforestation and a concentration of agrarian conflict cases, such as those that killed Jacozinho and Cafu.

Continue reading.

[literatecowboy]

The Rattlesnake County War

Following a botched cattle rustling job, a lone surviving outlaw finds herself thrust into a conflict between ranchers bigger than any she'd been embroiled in before. A Sheriff!Price x Outlaw!Reader fic; MDNI please; reader is AFAB and she/her pronouns are used but should otherwise be ambiguous (if I can be more inclusive/there is somewhere where I can improve on making her more "friendly" to readers let me know pls!) Warnings: hanging, angst, death, stabbings, references to guns and shootings, execution, etc. Eventual smut. I intend to write 2 versions of this fic - more information can be found in the masterlist

3. Coming Home to You

You woke late the next morning. The sun fell in from the window and draped itself across you, warming your body just past the point of discomfort. You sat up and rubbed your eyes. The clock read half past nine. 

Dressing yourself, you pulled your boots on and tromped downstairs. You found Gaz in the jail, working at one of the desks. Price was nowhere to be found. 

“Morning. I’ve got something for you,” Gaz said, rising from his chair and fishing for a key in his desk. He crossed the room and you followed, watching as he unlocked one of the several gun cabinets in the room.

“Sheriff Price asked me to return the rest of your things to you. He went to serve a warrant and didn’t want to wake you,” Gaz said. Your face lit up and you smiled as you fastened your gun belt around your hips and reloaded your sidearms. 

“Thanks, Gaz. A warrant on who?” you asked, tucking your guns into their holsters and taking stock of your ammo. 

“One Mr. Gimley. The last alive of the men who attacked Mr. Marshall yesterday,” Gaz said. You stiffened.

“He went alone?” you asked. Gaz nodded. 

“He’ll be fine. Neither Mr. Cavendish or Mr. Sutherland would dare kill a lawman,” he said, locking the gun cabinet and sitting back down. 

“Doesn’t feel right,” you said, shaking your head and peering out the window. “How long ago did he leave?” you asked. 

“Not long, but you shouldn’t go after him. He requested we stay here and await any news,” Gaz said, folding his arms over his chest. 

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not his subordinate,” you muttered, pushing out the door and heading to the barn. Gaz called out behind you, but you were gone too quickly. 

It felt good to ride Whiskey over the untamed west again. You followed the fresh hoofprints in the mud around back of Rattlesnake Point until they disappeared into the Colorado. On the other side you picked them up again and followed the track across wide grazing land until a stately house appeared in the distance. 

—

Sheriff John Price had scarcely passed the front gates of Sutherland Manor when he was stopped by a group of armed guards.

“This is private property, sir,” their leader sneered, staring up at Price where he sat on his liver chestnut quarter horse, Judge. 

“I do not mean to disturb you gentlemen, and I surely will be out of your hair in a moment, if you would allow me to speak to Mr. Sutherland about a warrant I possess for one of his employees?” Sheriff Price asked. The guard was about to respond, but the doors of the big house swung open then and a well-dressed man stepped into the sun. 

“Sheriff Price! To what do I owe the pleasure? Gentlemen, this man is of no danger or consequence to this place. Why do you treat him so?” Mr. Sutherland asked, chuckling. Price stepped down from his horse and approached the man, who gestured for him to sit on one of the chairs on the porch. They sat together, and a servant brought drinks, which Sheriff Price declined politely. 

“‘Tis good to see another Englishmen out in this wild country. I have brought with me as much refinement as I can, but such things are lost on these simple people,” Mr. Sutherland said, pouring milk into his tea and stirring it. “Now! To business. What have you come to my ranch for? The ride is surely far, and you would not have come unless a serious matter was afoot?”

“Serious it is, I’m afraid. Three men who I believe to be in your employ attacked me and another man yesterday, and though two are now deceased, I cannot let the matter rest. I bring a warrant for the arrest of the third attacker,” Price said. 

“What a dreadful affair! I can assure you, sir, that I do not employ men who would behave so savagely. Perhaps Mr. Marshall was attacked by his own men - disgruntled by their wages, perhaps?” Mr. Sutherland suggested. 

“It is curious that you know the man attacked to be Mr. Marshall, sir,” Price said, doing his best to hide his suspicion. “I would never accuse a man of your standing as being a liar, but might I perhaps interview your guards to see if they know of such a man?”

“I do not feel that to be necessary,” Mr. Sutherland said, setting his tea on the tray and rising. “And I do have a cattle deal to attend to, so I am afraid I must ask you to leave, sir.”

The guards which had dispersed before shifted, seeming to come alive at Mr. Sutherland’s words. They made their way toward Sheriff Price as he stood on the porch, blocking his way to his horse. 

The sound of a lone rider galloping down the road and toward the property made several of them turn. Mr. Sutherland watched from the entryway to his manor as you appeared on horseback, charging through the gates to the property. 

“Sheriff Price!” you called, refusing to dismount. The guards parted and let Price through, and he met you before the fountain in the drive. 

“It’s good to see you,” he muttered, taking the reins of his horse before mounting up. You glared down Mr. Sutherland’s guards as Price rode up to you by the fountain. 

“Let’s go,” he said, turning and leading the way off of the grounds of Sutherland manor. You followed. 

—

Once the house was but a speck in the distance, you slowed your horse and turned to look at the Sheriff. 

“That was stupid of you,” you said, riding side by side with him toward town. 

“Mr. Sutherland wouldn’t have allowed me to be harmed. My intention was to make a peaceful arrest of the fugitive Gimley to see how he would react. His denial means he’s committed obstruction of justice, which legitimizes our cause,” Price said. 

“Still shouldn’t have gone alone,” you said, shaking your head and casting a glance back down the long driveway as your horses crossed the river. 

“Who else would you propose I take?” he asked incredulously. “MacTavish and Riley are no lawmen, and leaving the town unguarded by taking Deputy Garrick with me could have been disastrous.”

“I know you still don’t trust me. You hate what I am. But we’re in the thick of it together, Sheriff, so I advise you put my skills to good use,” you said. 

It was quiet for a while. You and Price left the river behind as you rode closer to town. All seemed quiet outside of the saloon despite the skirmish the day before. Mr. Riley came storming out of the saloon doors, a myriad of Gaelic curses following him as he untied his horse’s reins. 

“Mr. Riley! Is there trouble?” Sheriff Price called out. Mr. Riley mounted his massive shire and fell into step with you and Price. 

“Only in paradise,” he grumbled, fixing his mask. It had been pushed up slightly and he yanked it back down, glowering at the road as you ride. Sheriff Price softened. 

“Is Johnny okay?” he asked. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Simon said, waving him off and patting his horse’s neck. It was pure black except for its bald face and white stockings, and you marveled at its size. 

“Where’d you get that horse?” you asked, marveling at its size. 

“Found ‘im as a colt, fed him from a bottle like a wee babe,” Simon said, visibly relieved by the shift in subject. “Ghost’s a good boy. Don’t let his size fool ya, love.”

“Your horse gave Gaz a good bit of trouble the other day. A mustang, correct?” Price asked. You nodded. 

“Whiskey’s a mean old girl, but I would never replace her. Bought her off a rancher who couldn’t break her and didn’t know what to do. She once bit off the ear of a man who was giving me trouble,” you said proudly. 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Price muttered. 

—

Your group split when you neared the Sheriff’s house. Price and Simon went together into Simon’s home, which was attached to his workshop and across the wide street from the Sheriff’s house. You rode around the side of the house to the barn, dismounting Whiskey and calling out a greeting to Gaz as you brought her into a stall. 

“How’d it go? Where’s Price?” he asked, looking up from where he was grooming his horse. 

“Went to Simon’s for a bit. Didn’t make any arrests. It seems that Mr. Sutherland is resistant to all cooperation,” you said, patting Whiskey as she lowered her head to munch on some hay. 

“Pretty horse,” you said, leaning against the fence as you exited Whiskey’s stall.

“Thanks! This is Athena,” he said, carefully running his comb through the mare’s mane. She was a beautiful palomino pinto with white patches and big blue eyes. You watched him work for a while before standing. 

“Got chores?” you asked. 

“A handful. Can’t escape them I’m afraid,” he said with a sigh. You picked up a pitchfork from where it leaned up against the wall. 

“Where should I start?”

—

Price was startled to find you lugging a bale of hay from the shed to the stable when he came around the side of the house leading his horse a few hours later. Gaz straightened up from pouring a bucket of water into a trough and waved him over as you finished laying down new bedding for each of the horses. 

“Good to finally see you, you old chore-dodger!” he called out with a grin, making you laugh. 

“I’m more impressed at how much you’ve already gotten done,” Price said, looking around. Shit had been shoveled, chickens had been fed, the horses had been watered and gotten their lunch, and a myriad of other chores had been done around the yard. 

“Wasn’t all me, cap. Wildcat’s a hell of a hand,” Kyle said, carrying his bucket back to the water tap and leaving it in its place. “I’m off to get lunch.”

“Turns out outlaws can do honest work,” you said with a laugh, taking some sugar cubes from your pocket and feeding them to Judge. The edges of Price’s eyes creased as he smiled. He put Judge away and joined you as you sat on a bale of hay, looking out at the river. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to help with chores. Didn’t expect you to come after me this morning, either.” 

“You’re a good man, sheriff. Your cause is just. I…I don’t want anything to happen to you,” you admitted. You gazed into Price’s eyes, silence settling comfortably around you as you sat together in the shade. 

He gazed back, smiling at you, his cheeks lightly flushed. He seemed to think something over for a moment before sighing and standing. 

“Go get some rest, Wildcat.”

—

Later that evening, there was a knock on the door to the guest room you occupied in Price and Gaz’s house. You rose from the chair where you’d been dozing and answered the door, smiling at Gaz when you saw him. 

“All those chores we did earlier made me thirsty. What do you say to a drink down at MacTavish’s?” he asked, grinning at you. 

“You, sir, are a genius,” you said, grabbing your hat from the desk and putting it on as you followed Gaz downstairs, passing Price on the way out. 

“Coming?” he asked, pausing with his hand on the door handle. Price shook his head. 

“Go, take a load off. I’ve got business here,” he said, waving his hand.

You and Gaz mounted up and trotted down the road. The night air was warm and draped around your shoulders like a thick blanket, and you took a deep, contented breath. The saloon was close enough, and you hitched your horses beside each other before heading in and taking your places at the bar. 

“How did you come to be Price’s deputy?” you asked, rolling your beer bottle between your fingers idly as you gazed out the window. 

“Was adopted by him when I was young. I was born here, but lost my ma and pa to smallpox during an outbreak. He took me in and the rest is history,” Gaz said. 

“Seems like a good man to me, maybe a little misguided,” you said with a shrug, lifting the rim of the bottle to your lips and taking a swig. Gaz shrugged. 

“I’d face down the devil at his side,” he said. 

The night passed quickly as you got to know Gaz a little better. Past midnight, the saloon was mostly empty. You were rising to leave when familiar Scottish shouting erupted from a room on the upper floor. You and Gaz were on your feet in an instant, charging up the stairs and down the long hallway they lead to. 

“-and if ye think I’m not capable-!” Johnny’s voice echoed through the door of the room on the left. Gaz hammered on the door with his fist, reaching for the handle with his free hand. 

“MacTavish, you alright? We’re coming in!” he called, twisting the knob and throwing the door open. You and Gaz stumbled into the room and froze. 

Johnny stood at the foot of the bed in his underwear, gesturing angrily at Simon, who was sat up in the bed shirtless, his lower half covered by the blanket. He reached for his mask and yanked it over his nose and mouth, shoving his hat on and pulling it low over his eyes. You averted your gaze and Gaz quickly shut the door behind him. 

“Can your lover’s spat be any louder?” he hissed, glaring at Johnny as he glared at Simon. You looked between Johnny and Simon, bewildered. Johnny rounded on Gaz next. 

“And ye! Do ye think I’m incapable of fighting my own battles too?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. You blinked, and your eyes darted between Simon, Johnny, and now Gaz once more. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, MacTavish? And put some damn pants on,” Gaz grumbled, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest. 

“Simon says I can’t help you and Price anymore. Says its too ‘dangerous’ for me, whatever the fuck that means. This thing with Marshall concerns me just as much as it concerns the rest of ye, thanks,” Johnny growled, snatching his trousers up off the floor. 

“Nobody said that. What do you mean, Simon?” Gaz asked, exasperated. Simon glared down at the blanket, the tips of his ears red. You grabbed Gaz by the elbow and tugged him toward the door. 

“Come on, deputy. We’ve outstayed our welcome,” you said with a grimace, doing your best to avoid further eye contact with any of the men’s bodies. You pulled open the door and shoved Gaz out before he could protest before slipping out behind him and closing it. 

The shouting didn’t resume as you walked down the stairs and exited the empty saloon in silence. As you mounted your horse and waited on Gaz to do the same, you spoke. 

“They’re fucking?” you asked, doing your best to forget what you’d seen minutes ago as you rubbed your eyes. 

“That’s a simple way of putting it,” Gaz said. 

—

Back up in the room on the second floor of the saloon, Simon took Johnny’s hands and squeezed them gently, guiding his lover to sit back down on the bed. 

“Didn’t mean to say you couldn’t fight your own battles,” he said, pulling his mask back off and tossing it to the floor. Johnny gently lifted his hat off and set it aside. 

“Si, I’m not going tae give up. This is the best chance we’ve had in a long time,” Johnny said. 

“I wasn’t trying to ask you to. I’m sorry, Johnny,” Simon said. He lay back on the bed, pulling Johnny into his arms to lay with him.

“You’re what makes me life worth living, Johnny. I don’t want you to…” Simon trailed off. Johnny ignored the crack in his boyfriend’s voice and rested his head onto his chest, tracing soothing lines onto his forearms. 

“Won’t get hurt, Si. Not a scratch. Nothing would dare stop me from coming home to you.”

---

[crowandmousewritingco]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x gn!reader

Words: 1.9k

Rating G: Just some good ol' Southern fluff just like Mama used to make.

Summary: After forgetting to take your medication the previous night, you have an episode. (Prompt #25 Chronic Condition)

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I found some writing prompts for Disability Pride Month. This story is based in a lot of my own experience with POTS. If you want more information on POTS check out. I'll add the prompts at the end of the fic if anyone else wants to write something with these ideas. (edit: the original prompt list maker was @thepromptfoundry )

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/16560-postural-orthostatic-tachycardia-syndrome-pots

Life on Jack Daniel’s ranch was heavenly. You loved Jack and you visited the ranch pretty much any chance you could get. Being around the horses and cattle all day was your dream come true. All the cute calves kept you busy with the constant play times and feedings. But you couldn’t be more happy. The work was usually never too much for you if you were on your medicine. Sometimes your chest ached with the familiar chest pains other times it was the general ache that came with the syndrome. 

You didn’t tell Jack about your condition since it wasn’t something that you wanted him to worry about. Jack had plenty on his plate from competing in rodeos and running the whole ranch. Something like a fast heartbeat and dizziness was something you’ve adapted to and wasn’t something to ring an alarm for. But you’ve never had an episode since being with him until today. 

All you were doing was helping Jack in the barn. The usual horse hand was out today so you volunteered to feed and ready the horses for the day. Usually you could handle this sort of exercise, but you had forgotten one important detail. Your brain fog was terrible last night so it slipped your mind to take your medicine. By the time you had gotten half way through the stalls, you felt the tell tale signs that an episode was coming. Your heartbeat was too fast and the chest pains squeezed behind your sternum. You cursed yourself and braced yourself on the barn wall. The only place that would be remotely okay for an episode was the hay pile at the end of the aisle. You squeeze your eyes hoping that would keep the world from swaying, but the chill in your appendages was telling you that it was starting.

“Shit.” You curse as you stumble further down the aisle, willing your feet forward knowing safety was closer with each step. You tried to keep the panic from overwhelming you. The last thing you needed was you hyperventilating which would only cause the episode to accelerate. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the familiar crunch of hay wafted into your ears. You  sighed and slowly knelt on the floor. Carefully you laid down on your back letting gravity safely take you. You stay lying still for a few minutes longer before slowly lifting your legs onto a nearby bale. A sigh escaped your lips. You were finally safe. The cold in your limbs slowly inched up your arms and legs, causing you to sigh. Now it was just a matter of waiting until this passed. Your eyes close and you let your episode roll over you. 

~~~~~~~~

Jack wandered through the stable checking in on his horses. He had a rodeo coming up and he needed the extra practice. Already a big winner in the local rodeo competitions, Jack wanted to keep that winning streak going. The horses poked their heads out when they heard the familiar sound of Jack’s boots against the concrete. He smiled and gave them all a pet on their muzzle. 

He stopped in front of a particular chestnut mare giving her a little bit more attention. “Hey there, pretty lady,” He cooed at the creature. The horse neighed in response and nuzzled up against his hand looking for a snack. 

Jack chuckled, “You just had your breakfast. I ain’t gonna give you a treat just yet. Though there might be an apple with your name on it after practice. I just know yer gonna help me get first place next week.” The mare huffed and Jack laughed. Though when he looked into the stall he saw that the feed bucket had no sign of feed in it. 

Jack frowned. You should have already fed the horses by now. “That’s strange,” He commented and looked back up at the mare. “No wonder you were hungry. Here I’ll do some good ol’ fashioned sleuthing for your missing breakfast.” He promised the horse and went in search of you. 

Down the aisle he walked searching for a sign of you. You usually weren’t one to shirk your duties so it was odd that your chores were half done. Though when he rounded the corner, he saw the abandoned wheelbarrow which only added to his confusion. “Where did ya go?” Jack asked himself. He scanned up and down the aisle for a sign when his eyes caught a familiar pair of boots. 

Jack frowned and approached the hay pile. There you were legs in the air and eyes closed. “Now hun this ain’t the time for a nap,” he reprimanded playfully before squatting down to take your hand. His eyes widened when he felt your chilled hand. Panic rose in his throat as he quickly checked for a pulse against your throat. Your heart was beating way too fast for his liking.

“Sugar?” he said anxiously as he gently shook your shoulders. You whimper softly and open your eyes. Jack’s signature stetson came into view. 

“J-Jack,” you said weakly. Your head was so cloudy that you were struggling to come up with words. 

“What happened?” He asked gently cupping your cheek caressing the skin with his thumb. Even your cheeks were cold which worried him deeper. 

“E-Episode,” you answered slowly nuzzling into his palm. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Episode? What are ya talking about, sugar? We should get you to a hospital.” 

“N-no it’ll pass. Just need to wait,” You reassured him. 

He scanned your body looking for any other signs that you might be in danger. You weakly lifted your hand with all the strength you could muster, and placed it on his arm. “Trust me.”

He paused for another moment and then nodded. “Okay no hospital but I’m takin’ ya home.” Jack gently slid his arm under your thighs and one under your torso. Slowly he lifted you into his arms and cradled you against him. Your head lulled against his chest. 

The ranch house Jack lived in luckily wasn’t too far away from the barn, but Jack was worried the entire time. You had never had anything like this before, but you were oddly calm about what was happening. That thought didn’t make him feel any more relaxed. 

Jack took the steps up his porch and carefully opened the door with his hip. The chill of the air conditioning made you shiver slightly and you pressed your cheek further into Jack’s chest seeking more warmth. 

“Shhh darling I’ll get ya warmed up here soon,” He reassured you as he took you over to the couch. Gently he set you down on the cushions making sure to place a pillow under your head. 

“L-Legs need to be up,” You whispered. Jack furrowed his brow not sure what he meant, but he remembered how he found you and quickly reassembled your legs like how he found you. 

“I’m gonna grab some blankets and I’ll be right back okay?” He said leaning down to kiss your head. 

“I’ll be here,” you joked. 

Jack gave you a small smile before disappearing down the hall. He quickly gathered all your favorite blankets he could find. With an arm full of soft materials he returned to your side. 

You smile at the sight of your boyfriend, “Got enough blankets to keep an army warm.” 

“Well I ain’t takin’ any chances with you darlin’,” He said softly and set the blankets down on the ottoman. One by one he arranged the blankets into a comfortable healing nest. 

You sighed already feeling loads better. The brain fog was quite prevalent, but you were able to talk in full sentences. 

Once you were settled, he pulled the now empty ottoman up to the couch and sat down. “Now I wanna know what just happened.” He said softly with no sign of malice in his voice. 

“Really Jack it isn’t that big of a deal. I promise,” You tried to reassure him but Jack wasn’t buying it. 

“Pardon my French sweetheart, but both you and I know that’s horse shit,” He tilted his head. 

You looked over at him and your heart clenched at the sight. There was so much worry etched on Jack’s handsome face. You were quiet for a minute and sighed. “You won’t be mad?” 

“No hun I won’t be mad. Please I want to help you,” He reassured you, placing your still chilled hand on his cheek. 

You paused and closed your eyes. “Okay I-I have this chronic syndrome…POTS.” You looked back at Jack and he encouraged you softly to continue. “I’ve had it since I was a teenager. It was a lot worse back then. Episodes like this were a weekly occurrence, but I was lucky. I found a medicine that helps me a lot so now episodes aren’t as frequent, but I forgot my medicine last night. So now we’re here.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” Jack softly said, kissing your palm. “But why did you hide this from me?” 

You sighed, “I really didn’t think it would matter. It doesn’t really affect my day to day life and I didn’t want to add another thing to your already big plate.” 

Jack’s face softened. “Darling you know that ain’t true.” 

“I know darling,” You paused, staring off a little bit. 

Jack paused. “That wasn’t the only reason,” he said bluntly.

“N-No um,” You teared up and Jack quickly wiped them away with his thumb. “I was bullied because of it.” Anger raged behind Jack’s eyes and you quickly took his hand in his. “It was in high school. There was another girl in the grade above me with the same condition,” You chuckle darkly, “and I guess that's reason enough for the bullying. Just because I didn’t have it as bad as her.” 

“Well that's bullshit,” Jack said, kissing your hand. “You still have this condition and nothing is changing it.” He paused at the realization. “That’s why you were scared to tell me.” He added softly. 

You teared up more and turned away from him. “Hey none of that,” he gently chided, guiding your face back to him with his fingers. A tear slowly flowed down your cheek and he leaned over to kiss it away. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered nuzzling into his shoulder seeking comfort from him. 

“None of that darlin'. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He gently cups your face in his hands. “You are my partner. You are my biggest priority.” 

A soft sob escaped your lips. Never had you felt so loved by someone then at this moment. Jack smiled softly and kissed your forehead. 

“Now tell me how to best take care of ya,” He said, kissing your cheek. 

“I should probably drink some water and eat something with salt,” You stated. 

“Then that’s what you shall receive,” He smiled and stood up from the ottoman. You snuggled into your blankets as you waited for him to return. 

When he came back with the requested items, he set them on the small table beside the couch. Carefully he lifted your head and sat down, setting your head in his lap. “What movie would help you heal faster?” 

You chuckled and mentioned a movie you had wanted to see for a while. Jack smiled, “Just what the doctor ordered.” And there you stayed letting Jack pamper you. With a nurse like Jack, episodes would feel a whole lot better.

[magpiepills]

Divining Rod

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Silva x wife reader, Silva x Jake

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Silva returns after a trip to town to see an old friend.

Warnings: smut! PIV, PIA, hurt, very little comfort, thigh riding briefly, infidelity, m/m, love triangle, time period appropriate inappropriate use of alternative lubricants, unsafe sex, unrequited feelings, no happy ending.

A word from the author: this is a repost! This is my contribution to filling in the blanks of Silva’s story as presented in the film. We know he has a son, and has likely impregnated a woman the old fashioned way. We know he had a sexual relationship with Jake. As a matter of safety and social expectations in 1910, we know it’s unlikely that Jake or Silva could have been out and living openly as gay or bi men. I wanted to explore the relationship Silva may have had with the mother of his son without making it cute or sweet or romantic. I love westerns, and SWOL is a good western.

Do not come in here with any bi erasure. This blog is queer and we don’t tolerate that.

Four days have passed since Silva left. He rode into town, promising to come back with flour, lard, rice, beans, gun powder, and fabric for a new dress. He kissed you goodbye, and rode away into the purple morning, hips swaying gently atop his chestnut horse.

He looked so handsome in his green coat, you wished he’d have taken you once more before he left. Laid you across your wide feather bed, naked for him, cunt dripping arousal onto your quilt. You wanted to feel full the way only he could make you, crying out his name, breathless under the weight of his broad body. As you stood at the kitchen window, looking out over the silent ranch, you thought of him and how he alone had known you this way, only he could give you what you needed. That evening after you’d finished the chores on your own you squeezed your thighs tight, held one of his handkerchiefs to your nose and longed for him until you fell asleep alone once more.

Silva was gone for five days. He returned in silence, threw a bag of rice into the table, and went to tend to his horse. You wanted to run to him and bury your face in his chest, let him bunch your skirt around your waist, and fuck you in the soft hay in the loft the way he did in the halcyon days of your youth. The days when he brought you to your climax in ways you’d never imagined on your own, taking his time with his fingers and his tongue, then his cock, so thick and heavy, tan as the back of his hand and flushed with lust. He was a divining rod for your desire. “Yes” he would groan, “take it just like that. Come on. That’s it.” He would put all his weight into your hips, driving his cock deep with his eyes shut tight. The stretch made you feel warm all over, and your release was the only relief. He could be rough, taking what he needed, pushing and pulling your body into his until he moaned and nipped at your neck, spilling his seed on the rough boards of the barn floor. After so long apart, you needed him in that primal way.

You knew you couldn’t ask him, though. You couldn’t run and jump into his arms. When he returned from those trips to town he was sullen and quiet. You didn’t know why. You didn’t know he had gone to the sheriff, didn’t know how he’s carried on in secret, under the guise of being “two men on a ranch doing things that needed done. Branding cattle and mending fences.” In town they were cold and hard, firm handshakes and steeled gazes. Inside they lived another life. Silva on his knees, taking Jake into his eager mouth, feeling as his turgid member grew. Silva hollowed his cheeks and relaxed slowly down Jake's generous length until his mustache met the soft curls at the base of his lover’s cock. Silva’s eyes were soft and pleading as he gave himself to the older man, but his looks of love were never met. Not like this. Neither were they when they were in the creaking bed, Silva’s moans and curses muffled in the pillows. Jake was not tender and sentimental, he preferred to be straightforward and so he simply told Silva to take his pants down and get into bed. Of course he had complied and fucked down into his fist while Jake eased his thumb into his tight ring of muscle, working slowly and steadily, letting saliva drip down onto his fingers to ease his way before replacing his two fingers with his cock. The tenderness between them began and ended with Jake's hand on Silva’s shoulder, and Silva’s hand over his mate’s. Slowly Jake pulled back before pushing in again, squeezing the soft fat of his ass and easing his way with whatever oil he could find in town until he came with a shout. “Fuck. Fuck!” Feeling the pulsing in his ass, Silva came hard into a handkerchief. Jake could never love him like he needed him to, so Silva just took what he was given. A handshake, a promise to see each other again soon, and an uncomfortable ride home.

You only knew that going into town always made him poor company for a few days after. So you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t ask about the other supplies or what news he had heard, or even who he saw. You heated water on the stove and dragged the big wash tub into the front room for him so he could wash where it was warm and soak for a while if he wanted to. Silva was obliged and peeled off his layers of clothes, throwing them into a pile for washing later. “I’m so glad you’re back safe. I missed you every day.” You cooed at him soothingly while you soaped his back. As you washed his hair and carefully rinsed it, you massaged his tense shoulders. If you’d looked closer you’d have seen the faint bruises on his hips, remnants of the lover he would never leave. Instead you forged ahead. “I thought I’d make a stew when you get done and we can go to bed early tonight.” You hoped he would understand what you were asking for, but he glowered. “You go on to bed, I need to check the fences.” His voice was cold and flat. You couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at his rejection, but you wouldn’t let him see it.

You took a breath, and gathered his dirty clothes in your arms. His outer clothes were dusty, but the inside layers were clean, save for his rust colored undershirt. The one he looked so handsome and strong in, you loved how the fabric stretched across his shoulders and chest, hugged his strong arms and his soft belly alike. The shirt you loved to see him peel off as he walked toward your bed and told you all the things he was about to do to you. That shirt was clean save for a dried white stain splashed across the back, stiff and flaky, unmistakable. Silva saw as you connected the dots in your mind. “Just leave it. Go. Let me finish.” You tossed the clothes back down and saw the handkerchief fall from his pocket, tell-tale stains all over. Your hurt boiled into anger. “Are you trying to make a fool of me, Silva? You’re gone for almost a week, all you bring back is a sack of rice, you won’t make love to me, and you smell of cum. What do I say to you?”

Silva was incensed. He stood quickly from the washtub, his wet body shining in the glow of the kerosene lamps, hair wet and slicked back. If he wasn’t unfaithful to you he would have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen. “You don’t say anything to me. You don’t ask me any questions and you don’t expect any answers!” He was red and bellowing, quaking with his misplaced anger. “I give you everything you need and I care for you. Isn’t that enough? Or don’t I fuck you enough? Is that it? You’re a desperate slut and you can’t wait for more? Well?” You couldn’t answer him like this. You shook your head and turned to go, but he was out of the tub and holding you against his chest before you could make it to the door.

“Take this off. If you want my cock so bad, I’ll give it to you.” His hands moved to unbutton the front of your dress, he was careful with the buttons despite the anger in his voice. He was thawing. With your arms out of your sleeves he pushed you into the wall, holding you there with his thigh between your legs. The wild look in his eyes made your cunt throb against it. He covered your mouth with his and kissed you hard and deep while his hands gathered your skirt and found your ass, digging his fingers into it, he pulled your core against his thigh, grinding it firmly into your center. Unsatisfied, he pulled away to lift the pretty dress over your head while you untied your slip and let it fall at your feet. Both of you naked now, you looked at each other, catching your breath before he picked you up and carried you to bed.

“Silva please. I need to know you’re mine.” You whined into his neck while he slid his hard cock against your folds, wetting them with your own arousal.

“What do you need? Tell me.”

“Need you inside. Need to feel you.”

He couldn’t be gentle now. He had to pour every ounce of his hurt, anger, confusion, despair, love, lust, jealousy and desperation into you tonight, had to transfer his feelings the only way he knew how. He notched at your entrance, taking time to tease your clit with the weeping head of his cock, and entered slowly, backing out slightly, then pushing further, repeating the pattern- back- forth- forth- back-forth- forth until he was as deep as he could get, and settled there. He kissed you and sucked your nipple into his mouth as he plucked at the other, teasing your nipple into a hard peak. The sensations were everything you wanted, fully engulfing you like a bonfire he had set. You needed more. You bucked your hips, nudging him to move, to meet your thrusts. You could only move as much as the mattress would allow until your love relented. He kissed up your chest and sat up tall on the balls of his feet. He liked you like this, helpless beneath him, needy, wanton, begging. “Is this how you want it? You want it hard like a whore? Want me to tell you I’m yours? That there’s nobody else?” “Yes, yes, please. Just fuck me. Please!” You needed your release. Feeling how full he made you had you so close to tipping over the edge that if he would just give you a little more you could reach it. Instead he moved slowly, circling his hips, quiet so you could hear how wet you were, hear how you whined and cried out for him. You heard him breathing hard too though, how he needed this just as much. “Let me come, Silva. Pleasepleaseplease!” He began fucking you faster, licking his thumb and pressing it against your clit. He could feel you squeezing him as you got closer, and he doubled his efforts, feeling generous now. He drove into your pussy. “Take it. Take all of me. Look at you, you’re so good for me, my love, I want you to come for me. Come on my cock so I can fill you.” He babbled meaningless filth at you and held your hips down with one hand over your mound, stroking your clit, and the other reaching up to cup your tit. That was enough. Your orgasm rolled over you like a heavy wave, and he fucked you through it, dragging it out until you settled, then closing his eyes to cover your stomach with his cum.

You wiped yourself clean with a towel, then threw it onto the rest of the semen covered laundry. When you washed it, hung it out to dry, then folded his handkerchief to tuck into his bureau, you knew it was just a matter of time until he went back to his lover.

[flight-of-the-sacred-eagle]

Invader Zim except it’s a rodeo au. Which means the Membranes are actually a rodeo family who compete in rodeos all over the country.

They’re world famous, with Professor, or I guess in this case something different (Rancher Membrane? Cowboy Membrane? Just Membrane?) being a multi time national rodeo champion bull rider. He was forced to retire after a bull gored and crushed his arms to the point of needing amputations. He now lives vicariously through his children, specifically Dib, while managing the ranch and doing sketchy science (because he’s still insanely good at it). Said sketchy science is possible due to him becoming friends with an even more sketchy scientist with even less regard for people. The horse he rides the most is a very sweet and caring quarter horse mare named Clementine, who is a bay with a white blaze.

Gaz is a barrel racer and a damn good one. She’s won first in a couple big rodeos, with her quarter horse named Shadowhog. Shadowhog is a black mare with a white blaze and socks and is just as standoffish and angry as she in. Gaz still enjoys video games, but not as much. She also is the best trick roper in the family, and has experience in break away roping. She’s really good at it, but prefer barrel racing since she thinks it takes more skill. Dib thinks she’s making fun of him, but she really isn’t. She’s dabbled with bronc riding but is too lightweight. She is using in charge of herding on the ranch. She also is still one of Membrane’s creations.

Dib is a tie down roper who desperately wants to get into team roping but like. He has no friends. He’s fairly good at tie down roping, though hasn’t won anything. Membrane wants him to be a bull rider. Dib would rather die. He has a curious, playful dappled gray quarter horse mare named Mothman, and is still in love with the paranormal and would rather explore it than compete. Membrane hates this. Dib kinda loves horses and spends a lot of time with not only Mothman, but the other horses on the ranch like Shadowhog, Phoenix, Megera, ET, and Professor. Dib is also still a clone because Membrane is still stupid smart and has access to less than ethical equipment.

Zim is still an alien. He still wants to take over the earth. He was still banished. The only difference is that he lands in the country when Dib is about 15. Membrane happened to have a flyer for a ranch hand up and Zim decides the human thing to do is take a job. His base is in the shape of a barn that’s right outside of Membrane Ranches. Membrane gives him the job and a cowboy hat and Dib is immediately like “that’s an alien Wtf” but Membrane ignores him. And then proceeds to insist on having Zim trained as a steer wrestler due to his strength and gives him a palomino quarter horse gelding named ET (Dib finds the irony hilarious), who is irritable and must be bribed with treats.

The ranch is named Membrane Ranches and has thirteen horses (four ranch horses- Clementine, Peggy (Appaloosa mare), Foodie (paint quarter horse gelding), and Generator (bay quarter horse gelding); two barrel horses- Shadowhog and Megara (chestnut quarter horse mare with white socks); one tie down roping horse- Chupacabra (paint quarter horse stallion); one steer wrestling horse- Covenant (buckskin quarter horse mare); four generic roping horses- ET, Mothman, Phoenix (nearly white quarter horse gelding), and Doppler (black quarter horse gelding); and one bronc- Wildfire (bright chestnut mustang with a white blaze and socks); as well as sixty head of cattle.

Dib gets tasked with teaching Zim the ropes of steer wrestling and ranch work. They try to kill each other between the very much forced lessons.

Zim is a shit ranch hand at first hates it because of germs. Dib uses this as an opportunity to lie and say all humans are fine with germs and Zim very reluctantly agrees. He does eventually start to get used to it, eventually becoming a fairly good ranch hand. He gets surprisingly protective of ET. ET gets surprisingly close to Zim, always nickering when he comes in.

Zim eventually gets told his mission is fake and Dib awkwardly comforts him. The next week he’s dragged to a rodeo (a massive one) and immediately starts getting very overwhelmed by the extremely loud noises and scents and the bumping. He’s not competing but Gaz and Dib are. Dib completely missed the tie down roping because he’s taken Zim away from the crowds and noise to decompress. (Not because he cares but because he’s not gonna let the alien do something stupid clearly).

Membrane is very annoyed.

A couple years later and more rodeos later Dib is nineteen and wins first at one of the largest rodeos in the country. Zim also competes and gets second. Dib (and Gaz who gets first in a lot of big rodeos) are invited to another big event. Zim comes with.

The night before the competition, Dib and Zim notice a runaway steer. Dib gets it around the head and Zim gets it by a hind leg. Dib realizes that holy shit they could be a roping team. At the same time a roping team is forced to drop out so the pair sign up.

They wind up getting forth. Gaz is thrilled that Dib is able to do what he’s wanted to do. Membrane is angry because he wanted to get Dib to bull riding after tie down roping inevitably wore him out.

Dib and Zim eventually become world champion team ropers. And they eventually make their own ranch. And maybe kiss.

[miilkybnn]

I know these have been requested already but I adore your 09 and cowboy Ghost/Roach/Soap art and would love to see more!! Also, do you have any cowboy/gunslinger headcanons for the three??

I, too, adore ’09 GhostRoachSoap AND cowboy/ranch life GhostRoachSoap so you absolutely WILL see more of them, I promise!!

As for ideas/hc for the cowboy au, it’s a lot more “ranch life” based than gunslingers so if you are into that, keep reading below the line!

If not, then you are more than welcome to skip over this :}

Disclaimer: Most of my ideas are a bit scattered so I apologize for the messy layout, I’ll try my best to keep it coherent. Also, this is not all of them I don’t want this to be overly long

Background:

The AU takes place in Roach’s family ranch where all three members have been discharged from duty.

In this AU, because I like happiness, there is no war over the horizon and is simply a group of people living their lives out on the rolling plains of either Texas or Tennessee— I’m leaning more towards Texas just because I know more about the agriculture of the Texas plains.

In this AU, the 141 & Co simply live their lives from either being retired/discharged/etc. While everyone is involved (except for Shepherd, eat shit and die Shepherd), they all do their own thing but primary attention is mainly on GhostRoachSoap

Roach (+ extended background):

Roach and his other 5 siblings have the ranch under their and their parent’s name. He and two of his siblings, the youngest and the second oldest, are more active in taking care of the ranch's needs now that their parents are well into their ages. The other three help ever so often with more minor things but they have their own families to tend to and his parents don't actually live in the ranch anymore (again, due to age) and live closer to the city.

Roach, however, is the main caretaker for the ranch. He spends the most time on the land and is often alone, that was until Ghost and Soap came

Headcanons;

His accent left when he joined the army. Came back tenfold after a week on the ranch.

Has a collection of cowboy hats and each one serves a purpose (although his favorite is his very worn-out Cattleman that he leaves by the front door to take on his way out)

Expert horse rider. I'm not saying you would see this man at the Rodeo, but he’s had his fair share of bucking broncos, and not ONCE has he been bucked off.

Though there are horses on the ranch, his horse is Estella— a Chestnut American Quarter Horse with three white socks (forelegs + right hind leg) and a star + stripe. She loves to chew on people’s clothes if they turn their backs on her.

Has slept in the barn before (multiple times) and regrets it every time (wouldn’t recommend it, very lumpy and you WILL wake up with straw in places you don’t want it to be)

LOVES cattle work, and hates paperwork 💀 (he lets Ghost, and his two other siblings take care of it) due to this, he is good at reading the animals and knowing when something is wrong!

Are good friends with the vet! (It’s his ex 💀) (They broke amicably though so it’s okay!!) (“So, like, when I kiss you??…. it’s gross” “OH thank God, I thought it was only me")

Gets SOOO distracted when Soap is picking the hay bales. Bff short circuits for a good minute before Ella gets miffed at him and throws her head back

Cows > sheep (will make an exception for baby lambs tho)

Soap:

Along with Ghost, realistically both would not actually retire in some rural Texas town but because I can, let's say they decided to retire to some rural Texas town.

Soap is the most recent member to the farm and took to it like a duck to water. (We'll ignore the times he forgot to lock the chicken coop). He was on active duty but after a close call that was too close to comfort, he decided that maybe it was time to retire. Price is the one that mentioned the ranch to him, although at the time he did not know it was a ranch.

All Price told him was “if you are looking for something a little different, take a look here" and looking he went.

Headcanons:

Not on the friendliest terms with the cattle dogs but boy do they LOVE him (they’ve tried to herd him multiple times and have succeeded) (he cusses both Ghost and Roach out for watching and letting it happen)

Loves the nitty gritty work. Hay bales? Check. Cleaning the stables? On it. Shearing the sheep? The Clippers are all warmed up already. If there’s a job that involves getting his hands dirty, he is the first in line

Sheep > cows

His horse is a Buckskin American Quarter Horse that he very proudly named Buck. This name came after Roach told him the color of his coat but was reinforced when Soap tried riding him and was almost bucked off. They became the best of pals after that, and Buck occasionally tries to nibble Soap’s mohawk for fun.

His favorite chore is feeding the animals! He loves watching them all flock to their food and munch away. He doesn't find it much of a chore as it fills him with such joy to see all the creatures he cares for flourish.

Gagged the first, second, and third time he saw a sheep give birth. Man has seen a soldier’s leg come clean off from a bomb and recovered in less than 5 minutes but BIRTH? Get the bucket ready.

Ghost:

Discharged after a mission had gone wrong, Ghost had no idea where to go. With no family to go back to and no friends to crash with, civilian life was looking very bleak until Price came to him with a plane ticket and an address to some rural town in Texas.

Ranch life was… different for Ghost. It wasn’t bad per say, and he can’t really find much to complain about, but it was just different. It is... steadier? softer? he's not too sure but at least it lets him sleep easier at night.

It took him and Roach a while to find a rhythm. It wasn’t easy and it was very awkward at first but eventually they were able to settle on something unique for them that worked out.

Headcanons:

Sheep > cows

He likes to roam around with the LGDs. He greatly respects their jobs and has grown a soft spot for them. He knows he’s not supposed to distract them, but he just can’t help himself and always gives them a good belly rub.

Became good friends with the farrier. Farrier does most of the talking but Ghost will join in here and there. He really likes learning about the Farrier's different methods and likes to watch him work on the horses. (Lowkey thinking about making Jackson the farrier bc why not)

One of my favorite personal hc's about Ghost is that he is shit at naming things so yeah, he named his horse, Horse. Roach almost took his horse privileges away because of it but anyway, his horse is not an AQH like Roach/Soap but is instead one of the two draft horses the ranch has! His horse is Blue Roan Clydesdale with a very splotchy coat that loves peppermints and loves napping her days away (she’s had three kids alright she deserves it)

Genuinely enjoys doing the ranch paperwork. Sure, he has to ask Roach here and there where some of the stuff is at but honestly? Could spend hours reading and organizing the books and such. He's very interested in the topics discussed.

Earliest riser. His favorite time of the day is just before the sun peaks over the horizon where everything is blue and foggy, where condensation sits on his skin, when the crickets are still chirping, and when the mourning doves are softly cooing. Roach wakes up soon after him.

[bibliosims]

levi cheung for @hauntedtrait's once a time in chestnut ridge: a bachelor challenge *:･ﾟ✧

▸ Levi Cheung (he/him) | 34 | Bisexual

Traits: Rancher, Loves Outdoors, and Loner

Likes: the outdoors, rodeos, the smell of sweat, wood carving, soap operas, and playing his guitar

Dislikes: staying indoors on a good day, rave music, and dancing (he's self-conscious)

On the outside: rough, calloused hands and a scarred face. Soft eyes, though, give away the gentle soul that is Levi Cheung. Raised on a small farm that grew into a flourishing cattle ranch as he matured, Levi has always felt most at home working in the dirt and surrounded by animals. His mother, an accomplished rodeo cowgirl, had him on a horse as soon as he took his first steps (or so she jokes) while his father taught him the lay of the land and its agriculture. Levi has always known where he belonged, and so it was an easy choice to stay in Chestnut Ridge after graduation to work on his parents’ ranch as a farm hand herding cattle, tending to the livestock, and doing other handiwork. In his free time Levi enjoys playing the guitar (he could even be convinced to sing a tune) and doing a variety of woodwork, which he sells at the maker’s market every weekend. Being a farm hand on the cattle ranch is a demanding job, though, and Levi finds that he seldom has time to go out for a night on the town and meet people. And so when his mother told him about a bachelor challenge in their own hometown, Levi saw a chance to meet a like-minded soul who wasn’t afraid of a little dirt...

Fun Facts:

▸ His father immigrated to Chestnut Ridge from China as a teen. His mother, a Chestnut Ridge native, was immediately smitten with the newcomer and offered to tutor him in English. It's during these lessons that their love blossomed, with the pair marrying after high school.

▸ Perpetually has dirt under his nails and really rough rands.

▸ His father made him take line dancing lessons as a kid and he swore off dancing afterwards.

▸ Likes to wittle small animals out of wood and give them to people. There's a variety of these lil guys lying around his house.

▸ Despite his rough exterior, Levi loves to watch telenovelas and rom-coms, which he grew up watching with his mother and younger sister.

[all-the-things-2020]

No Better Place - Chapter One

Word count: 750+

Summary: Javi has a bad day. Just a quick chapter to set the scene.

The hot Laredo sun beat down on Javier Pena’s head as he wrestled with a fence post. He’d turned down his father’s offer of a hat that morning, not wanting to look like a goddamned cowboy wannabe, but now he regretted it. His dark hair was absorbing the sun’s radiation like a black hole sucking up starlight and he was sweating like an informant under interrogation.

“How you doing, mijo?” Chucho Pena said from the back of his red roan horse. Javier looked up at his father, glad his aviator sunglasses hid the contempt in his eyes.

“How do you think?” Javi spat, kicking at the stubborn post. The old one had rotted through and needed to be replaced, but this new post was slightly too small for the old post hole and kept tilting, pulling awkwardly at the barbed wire. He could have dug a new post hole, but the ground was baked so hard from the summer heat that it would have been easier to chisel a hole in granite. So Javi was trying to get the damned thing to stand up by packing the hole with dirt and rocks and whatever else he could scrape up from the surrounding ground.

Chucho shook his head. “Kicking it won’t help,” he said mildly. “Might even break your toe if you aren’t careful. How the hell did you survive in Colombia?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Javi retorted. He asked himself that question every day, or at least a variant of it: why had he survived Colombia? Because it didn’t make sense that he was still alive after that hellhole.

Chucho reined his gelding around. “Well, don’t stay out here too long,” he said. “If you get heatstroke, don’t come running to me.” He tapped the horse’s sides with his heels and trotted away.

Javi shook his head. “Maybe I should just stay out here, roast my brains in the sun and feed the coyotes,” he muttered. His horse, a rangy chestnut, snorted at him. Javi wasn’t sure if it the mare was agreeing with him or chiding him for being stupid, but either way, it reminded him that he wasn’t alone out here in the desert, and that was enough to make him return to his work. It might not matter much to the world if he died out here, but his dad couldn’t afford to lose a good horse.

He finally got the fence post to stand mostly upright and decided it was good enough. The mare, who had stood quietly while he worked, one hind leg cocked as she dozed in the heat, suddenly decided she hated standing still. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Javi asked her, as he jerked at the reins. “Stand still for fuck’s sake. Goddamned horse.” She snorted and tossed her head but stood long enough for him to get his foot in the stirrup and swing himself into the saddle. Years behind a desk had left him stiff and awkward when he mounted. As a teenager, he’d been able to vault gracefully onto a horse’s back; now it was more of a lurch, accompanied by an undignified grunt.

He kicked the mare into a trot as they headed toward the ranch house. It was hot and he needed a cold drink and a rest on the porch before the afternoon round of chores began. At the barn, he slid out of the saddle and handed the reins to Paco, the old man who mucked the stalls and groomed the horses in exchange for a tiny apartment in the loft.

Without a word, Javi headed for the house. Walking through the back door, he went into the kitchen, grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge, and walked through the house to plop down on the bench on the front porch. Coco, the cattle dog bitch who’d appointed herself Javi’s new best friend the moment he’d set foot on the ranch three months ago, appeared from under the porch and rested her chin on his knee.

“Yeah, yeah, hi,” Javi said, reluctantly patting the dog’s head. It was embarrassing how happy she was to see him, even if he’d only been out of her sight for ten minutes. “Don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me,” he muttered. “I’m not worth it, you know.” He took a swig of beer and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Tomorrow, he’d swallow his pride and wear the damned hat.

[chestnutcattleranch]

BREAKING IN

Layla's POV

Today Michael took Longears out for some training without me. Which obviously is fine, I actually asked him to! We will see if he can make a good mule out of him sooner or later, so it's a little safer for me to ride him - papa's words not mine!

So instead of training with Longears, I took the Morgans out for a little drive in the desert area. It being as hot as it is here in Nevada, I decided - or well, papa told me to - bring Anetta with me. Always good with another pair of hands I guess. Luckily both Andy and Norman has clearly been broken in for driving, and did very well as a pair, looking cute together and all that <3

I hope they will be fit for some marathon driving at some point, because that could be a lot of fun!

[thecalicodragon]

Need a random NPC for your DnD game? I post a new one every day!

"A boastful, adult half-elf with sepia skin, straight chestnut hair in an updo, and grey eyes. He is a habitual hummer, and runs a cattle ranch."

[mayzie-grobe]

meet the animals on the ranch !! 🐎

gelato the american paint (by Neyney_Skinner)

dango the australian cattle dog (by LafooTroll)

chestnut, mariella's house-cat turned farm menace

and mint the norweigan dole (by trin097)

beginning | next

[cataleya-donovan]

OOC: Dialogue written in English for reading purposes.

Camilla Ortiz Garcia de Ramirez and Sergio Silva Ramirez were the hardest working people Cataleya had ever known. For as long as she could remember, her parents woke before the sun rose to greet the day to start the many chores required on the ranch. Milking their dairy cows by hand was a tiring task but they always managed to fill their quota of five, stainless steel milk vessels. The feeding of the dairy cows, their only bull, chickens, pigs, horses, and faithful dog that guarded the ranch day and night came next. All this was completed before the sun peeked over the horizon. 

As the years went by, their ranch and profit grew. Beautiful show horses were bred when Cataleya’s uncle, Mateo, invested a small fortune in his brother’s ranch. Help was finally hired, giving Sergio and Camilla a well-deserved break from the day-to-day grueling tasks. Chores that once were needed for their daily survival now became tasks that Cataleya and Sebastian enjoyed doing. 

August 4th, 2008 

“Seba!” called out a sixteen year old Cataleya, her eyes falling on her six-year old brother who was grabbing his cowboy hat off the hook by the door. Cataleya was standing on the patio, her hands on her hips as she waited. Smiling, she watched her brother pull on his worn boots, scrambling to his feet and practically skipping with happiness as he joined her. 

Sebastian took her hand, pulling her towards the stable where their work horses were kept, trying to get his older sister to quicken her pace. “Leya, move! Come on,” he pleaded, his large, chestnut brown eyes looking up at her.

 The teenager laughed, giving her little brother’s hand a squeeze as she started to jog to please him.

 “Please be careful, Leya! Keep your eyes on Seba!” called out their mother, Camilla, who was carrying a large bag of chicken feed towards the coops.

 Cataleya nodded, waving back with her free hand. “I know, I know, ma!” she called out so she could be heard. She glanced back at her brother as they reached the stables, heading in to collect their horses.

 Diablo, a beautiful, black male horse, stood perfectly still when Cataleya and Sebastian entered the stables. Diablo was Cataleya’s horse, well-trained and her faithful companion for five years. “Mmm, papa must have gotten them ready…” Cataleya stated to her brother, observing that both Diablo and Miel had been tacked up.

 “Stand back, Seba,” she warned her brother, releasing his hand so she could grab the rein to Miel, opening the door to his stable to allow her out first. Miel stayed motionless once outside her stall, waiting for her rider. Cataleya had to lift her brother up, placing his foot in one of the stirrups so he could mount the rest of the way himself.

 When he was secured, Cataleya pulled out Diablo and mounted, adjusting her cowgirl hat as they walked them out of the stables. Their task for that morning was to take their herd to the pastures near the top of the mountain. It was a trek that Cataleya had done a thousand times.

It was a beautiful day. Along the ten mile trek up, the cattle would often get distracted and try to eat any grass they saw along the way. Sebastian and Cataleya easily guided them up the mountain, keeping the herd together until they reached the pasture. After they secured their cattle, locking the gate to the fence, they started their descend. 

“Leya?” asked Sebastian, his hands on the reins and guiding Miel alongside Diablo.

 “Hmm?” mused Cataleya, her eyes staring out ahead to keep watch before shifting her gaze towards her brother. 

Seba gave her a smile, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m really glad you’re my sister,” he said in a softer voice.

 Cataleya couldn’t help but smile widely. With their age difference of ten years, Cataleya not only cared for Seba as her brother but also like a mother cared for their child. She had helped her parents raise her brother, Cataleya being the one who spent the most time with him. He was her entire world.

 “I’m glad you’re my brother. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Cataleya confessed sincerely, keeping her eyes on her brother. “Keep your eyes ahead. You’re leading Miel right for the bushes,” she said in a soft, joking tone while she laughed. 

Sebastian gave Miel a jerk, digging his foot into her side to move her away and back onto the trail. He grinned innocently at his sister after correcting his mistake.

 “You’re always going to be with me, right?” he asked.

 Cataleya smiled gently. “Yes, always.”

 “Promise?”

 The teenager nodded. “I promise. I’m never going to let anything happen to you,” she added, holding out her pinky for her brother to take, her other hand still holding the reins to Diablo.

 Seba reached over, wrapping his tiny digit around hers. Satisfied, he let go. The smile on his face was so big. It’s something Cataleya would never forget.

 August 31st, 2022

 Cataleya woke with a start. The long t-shirt she wore was damp with cold sweat. It had been a dream. No, it had been a memory. A memory with her beloved younger brother and the promises she had made. Both broken.

 She had promised she would never leave his side, but she did. When she married Carlos, he took her away to Los Angeles. The promise she had made to her brother the year prior to her leaving had been shattered in that moment.

 She had promised she would protect him, that no ill would ever come to him but here they were, thirteen years later and that promise too was broken. He had been killed because of her.

 Cataleya let out a scream, her shaking hands covering her face. The pain was overwhelming. When would it end?

[toreno-werty]

Well, let's continue.

Name: Jim Woodston

Age: 30

Occupation: Texas Ranger, Private; part-time - the head of the entire material and economic part of company D

Birthday: August 4th

A joker, a mocker and a chatterbox, who for every occasion has a fascinating story from the life that happened to his grandfather, second cousin, or himself. Sometimes others can get bored with his jokes and conversations, but without him in the squad there is a feeling that something is missing. Thrifty and thrifty, loves order and bookkeeping everywhere and in everything. In his youth, he helped his father manage the grocery store, where he perfectly learned to count, read and write - Jim is able to determine the exact amount of anything by eye - whether it be horses in a herd or cartridges in a box. However, he soon left this occupation "so as not to die of boredom." For some time he tried to look for gold, but not too successfully, he worked as a cattle driver, a coachman of a postal stagecoach, at some point he was even going to get his own ranch and start raising horses, but quickly burned out. 

Ultimately Jim joined the Texas Rangers, where, for the first time in his life, without hesitation, he decisively renewed his contract after his first year of service. 

Woodston rides on a tall chestnut stallion in apples named Barrel-S-Gunpowder.