#loudspeaker systems

[stone-cold-groove]

From the classic audio files: a circa 1967 ad for the Sony HP-450A Stereo Music System.

[theflyingfeeling]

aaaaaaaAAAAA I don’t care if we don’t get any Olli/Allu content (I actually do but anyway) but just the fact that Allu traveled over 600 km to hang out with Olli and celebrate his birthday!!! 😭😭💞💞💞 yes it might be a small thing but I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of the day 🤧

(oh my god what if they stream together??? they’re nerdy boys I’m sure they’d figure it out)

It really is so very soft of them and yessss, even if we don't get "official confirmation" that they are indeed celebrating Olli's bday together we still KNOW they're together and that's what matters 🥺💕 and whatever other business Aleksi may be in Oulu for is completely irrelevant 🥰

Also, this is probably irrelevant as well and doesn't mean anything (although it totally does and you KNOW what it means), but I just love how Joonas travelled to some exotic location the very first thing their "holiday" started, but Aleksi? Why, he travels 600 km to hang out with Olli, as if they hadn’t just done that every day for an entire month 😭💕💓💗💕💓💕

(I also immediately thought of them streaming together but I'm not gonna get my hopes up jk I already did)

[engagemythrusters]

good god someone is going to have to talk me down through this overload rn I stg I’m such a mess and I can’t process anything anymore

[sreseo-blog]

MBL Audio

[jtownraindancer]

So I need to add a thing picked up from several generations of farmers & my own 30 years of firsthand experience for anyone who might not have their phone or phone service or a place with tornado sirens nearby:

If you feel the temperature starting to dip and notice the gray, possibly stormy clouds are getting a pale-blue/turquoise colour like so:

It's time to find somewhere to shelter for a bit. You're very likely about to get a thunderstorm, possibly hail. The wind will pick up, and you have only about 10 minutes or so to bunker down.

If, however, those clouds start to turn a pale-green/jade colour like this:

The odds are very, very likely that you're going to get a very, very intense storm. Get to shelter of some kind immediately to be safe.

While there's no official study correlating the sky colour to storm activity, I do know that the only times I've ever seen the sky turn that shade of green were always followed by a tornado warning only moments later.

Also make sure to trust your other senses. Does the air pressure feel different? Temperature changed? Are you out boating and noticed the waves getting choppier? Wind picking up? Birds unexpectedly flying in large groups? Birds going quiet?

My cousins and I almost died in a tornado a few years ago in Central Pennsylvania, and I swear that sky was practically a jewel just before the downdraft hit.

Be safe out there, y'all.

Love & Light

Without looking it up, when you first hear "Tornado Warning", what does that mean to you?

[codenamesazanka]

The park flashback/scene where Tenko plays with Mikkun and Tomo-chan in Chapter 418 first takes place in early afternoon, as evidenced by the clock reading almost 2:00 PM.

The art in the scene confirms this: clear bright skies, and the shadows under the children are short.

However, the time in the scene changes after Mikkun and Tomo-chan tells Tenko he should be All Might (the moment Tenko decides he wants to be a Hero, as he tells his mom in Chapter 235). Suddenly it's evening: the clock shows 6:13 PM, and the sky darkening because it's nearing sunset.

When Shigaraki/Tenko thinks of the League, he and the League (and Deku) all have long shadows, the kind you see when the sun is low in the sky.

＊

The context:

Sunset is the time to go home. Children who have been playing outside, in playgrounds, at the park, are supposed to go home, to get back in time for dinner, back to their families.

In Japan, many cities and towns have a bell/chime/song that plays from public loudspeakers at around 5:00 PM. It's a daily test of an emergency broadcast system, but it has also come to be seen as the evening bell, a 'go home' signal, especially for children, telling them to go home before it gets dark.

In manga and anime, all these elements have become common imagery and symbolism, associated with each other: red-orangey colors, sunset, long shadows, the chime, children saying goodbye to their playmates for the day, the idea of home and return.

(from Mushishi)

＊

Putting it all together:

When the park scene first shows up, it's Tenko memory of playing with Mikkun and Tomo-chan, likely exactly how it had occurred in real life: it's early afternoon, the sun is shining bright, their shadows are short, they're at the park, they're playing Heroes, and when the kids tell Tenko that he should be All Might, Tenko is overjoyed.

But this isn't the scene 15-16 years ago; this is a memory. Tenko is also Shigaraki here. He has just had his core pried open by Deku, and given relief. The Crying Child has been symbolically saved, but the past, the massacre, the Walk still all happened.

So it's suddenly 6:13 PM, it's sunset now, because it's way past proper time (5:00 PM) to go home - because Shigaraki/Tenko can't go home to the Shimura house. It's too late. It's been long over.

Shigaraki/Tenko then looks away from Mikkun and Tomo-chan, to the side, and say, 'Nah' to their suggestion, because besides it being late, he also no longer wants to be All Might. He's deciding he's a Villain, he still holds malice and he still destroys.

So, the scene changes again to contains the League now, all six of them (plus Deku). They exist in this sunset time, hence their long shadows. They exist with current Shigaraki/Tenko, they exist in the now - and arguably, the League would be the home he would return to at sunset.

-

Up to interpretation, of course, but the sunset/going home context is real.

Japanese tweets about it (translated):

[When Tenko got the words he wanted, his eyes lit up, but it was past time to go home so I'm guessing that means "it's too late."]

[It is just heartening that the League members are the place where Tomura would return to when it was "time to go home." I'm sobbing]

[In the scene where Tenko is at the park, the clock is already past 6:00 PM, the time when good kids go home, so if he had met Deku a little earlier, Deku might have been able to stop him, but this seems to show that they're past that stage now, which is good.]

[dollielliot]

𐙚ྀིྀ ⠀︵　info on the Apalchee highschool shooting that happened today, 9/4/24˖ ㅤ૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა⠀

The 14-year-old suspect in the fatal mass shooting at a Winder, Georgia, high school has been identified as Colt Gray, Georgia Bureau of Investigation Director Chris Hosey said at an afternoon news conference. The suspect is a student at Apalachee High School who will be charged with murder and will be handled as an adult as he moves through the criminal justice system, Hosey and Barrow County Sheriff Jud Smith added.

Two teachers and two students were killed, Hosey said. Nine other victims were taken to hospitals, according to the officials. The gunfire sent students and faculty desperately scurrying for cover as schools across the county went into lockdown and parents scrambled for information. Wednesday’s shooting is the deadliest of the 45 school shootings so far this calendar year, according to a CNN analysis. It is one of 11 school shootings with four or more deaths since 2008 when CNN first started tracking school shootings. Authorities said the first report of an active shooter came in at 10:20 a.m. ET. A school resource deputy assigned to Apalachee High confronted the shooter, who got on the ground and was taken into custody, Smith told reporters.

The witness sat next to the suspected shooter

Lyela Sayarath, 16, told CNN the alleged shooter sat next to her in an algebra class. She said he left class early, around 9:45 a.m., but didn’t take a bathroom pass. She thought he might be skipping. Toward the end of class, someone told her teacher over the loudspeaker to check their email, she said. Shortly after, Gray was outside the classroom door, which was shut, Lyela said. Another student who went to the door jumped backward when she saw he had a gun. "I guess he saw we weren’t gonna let him in,” Lyela said. “And I guess the classroom next to me, their door was open, so I think he just started shooting in the classroom.” At first, she told CNN she heard a burst of gunfire – maybe 10 to 15 shots – and then they were “kind of just Students dropped to the floor and crawled to the corner, Lyela said.

“It seemed like this wasn’t something he planned too well or that he wasn’t really strong with the gun because he didn’t try and shoot our door. Once he saw he couldn’t get in our room, he just went to the next one.”

Latest developments

The high school had received an earlier phone threat, multiple law enforcement officials told CNN. The phone call Wednesday morning warned there would be shootings at five schools, and that Apalachee would be the first. It is not known who placed the call. It was not immediately known whether the assailant had some connection with his victims, the sheriff said, though officials stressed that will be part of the investigation. Schools in Barrow County will be closed for the rest of the week.

Student texted mom: ‘I’m scared’

Erin Clark was at work Wednesday morning when she got a series of text messages from her son, a senior, who was attending class at Apalachee High School.

“School shooting.”

“I’m scared,” he wrote.

“pls” “I’m not joking,”

“I’m leaving work,” Clark replied. “I love you,” her son, Ethan Haney, 17, wrote back.

“Love you too baby,” his mom texted before racing to the high school.

Clark told CNN her son heard eight or nine gunshots before he closed his classroom door and, with the help of another classmate, moved chairs and tables to block the door.

Clark told CNN she was “absolutely terrified” when she read her son’s messages. “Just kept praying he’d stay safe,” she said.

Schools in the county went into lockdown

As emergency responders came from several counties, video from outside the school showed at least five ambulances and a large law enforcement presence at the campus, and at least one medical helicopter could be seen airlifting a patient from the scene. At the football field, where authorities had students gather, people lowered their heads and formed a prayer circle in the end zone, standing on the letters for “Apalachee” as their classmates milled around the field. All schools in the Barrow County School System, which includes the high school, were placed on lockdown and police were sent out of an abundance of caution to all district high schools, according to the sources, but there are no reports of secondary incidents or scenes. Some of the critically injured were removed by helicopter, and additional helicopters are on standby.

Atlanta Trauma Center and other hospitals take patients

Grady Health System – a Level 1 trauma center in Atlanta, about an hour's drive from Winder – received one gunshot wound victim from the incident who was transported by helicopter, a hospital spokesperson told CNN. Earlier, a source with knowledge of the situation who is not authorized to speak to the media, told CNN Piedmont Athens Regional Hospital in North Georgia received two victims from the shooting. The source said one victim was an adult with a gunshot wound to the stomach and was in surgery, and another was a minor with unspecified injuries. Three gunshot victims were taken to nearby hospitals following the shooting, according to a hospital official, and five other patients reported to the hospital with symptoms related to a panic attack. Two gunshot victims were taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Barrow with non-life-threatening injuries, Northeast Georgia Health System spokesperson Layne Saliba said. Four other patients came with symptoms related to panic attacks.

Another gunshot victim was taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Gainesville with non-life-threatening injuries, Saliba said, and an additional patient came to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Braselton with symptoms related to a panic attack.

Georgia governor sends prayers and says he can send resources

Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp has directed all available state resources to assist at the scene, he said in a statement on social media. The governor urged “all Georgians to join my family in praying for the safety of those in our classrooms, both in Barrow County and across the state.” President Joe Biden has been briefed on the incident, the White House said, offering federal support to state and local officials.

“His administration will continue coordinating with federal, state, and local officials as we receive more information,” the White House said in a statement. Attorney General Merrick Garland similarly said the US Department of Justice “stands ready” to support the community after the shooting. “We are still gathering information, but the FBI and ATF are on the scene, working with state, local, and federal partners,” Garland said at a meeting of the Justice Department’s Election Threats Task Force.

Winder had a population of about 18,338 as of the 2020 census, according to the US Census Bureau The Barrow County School System is the 24th largest school district in the state, per the district’s website. It serves about 15,340 students, 1,932 of whom are enrolled at Apalachee High School.

[rootedinrevisions]

One of Them Girls

SUMMARY: After a long day of Tornado chasing, Tyler Owens and his crew head to a local bar to unwind. At the end of the bar sits a woman who sparks Tyler's interest. Despite her initial reluctance, Tyler's persistence leads to a playful evening of banter, pool games, and dancing. As the night progresses, the barriers between them begin to fall. INSPIRED AND LOOSELY BASED ON THE SONG "ONE OF THEM GIRLS" BY LEE BRICE.

You were sitting on the patio of the local bar, enjoying the evening air and the company of your friends, when the sound of a truck engine caught your attention. Turning your head, you saw a red Dodge pickup truck pull into the parking lot, its exterior covered in gear and storm-chasing equipment. The truck's driver, a familiar face.

It was Tyler Owens, the charismatic storm chaser who had dubbed himself the Tornado Wrangler with over a million followers on his YouTube channel. You'd seen his videos, filled with thrilling footage of him chasing down tornadoes and navigating wild weather. He exuded confidence and energy, and he clearly thrived on the attention.

Behind him, an older RV rolled up, its loudspeaker system blaring country music that added to the lively ambiance of the bar. The driver honked the horn, grabbing the attention of everyone on the patio. Conversations paused around you, and heads turned to watch the crew make their entrance. It wasn't every day that a storm-chasing team rolled into town, and the buzz of excitement in the air was contagious.

You watched as Tyler got out of his truck, a crowd of excited fans already gathering around him. The man who appeared to be the cameraman of the operation jumped out of the passenger seat and ran around the front of the truck just as Tyler exited. Tyler opened the driver's door and stood up, bracing himself with one hand on the bars surrounding the truck and raising the other hand in the air to acknowledge his fans. A bright white smile spread across his face as he placed a cowboy hat on top of his head.

"Hey T, tell the folks how you're feeling?" The cameraman, Boone, called out, pointing the camera at Tyler.

Tyler looked directly at the camera and said "I'm feeling pretty good, Boone." He then turned to the crowd, his energy infectious, and called out his catchphrase, "And if you feel it..." he paused, letting the crowd finish the line with a loud, "Chase it!"

Tyler, clearly enjoying the moment, amped up the crowd even more. "I said if you feel it, chase it!" The crowd responded with even more enthusiasm, their voices echoing around the patio.

"Oh, it was a beautiful day," Tyler declared, his smile widening as the cameraman stopped recording. With that, Tyler and his crew began to make their way into the bar, being slowed by fans trying to get an autograph or picture with Tyler.

Back inside the bar, you and your friends had returned to your usual spot at the end of the bar. It had been five or ten minutes since Tyler's crew had pulled up, and they were just now making their way inside after taking photos and signing autographs. You were mindlessly peeling the label off your Bud Light bottle as your friend talked about her most recent breakup. Though you nodded occasionally, your mind began to wander, tuning out the conversation.

Your gaze drifted across the room, landing on Tyler as he made his way towards the bar. You took in his appearance, noting every detail. His dirty and worn boots and his blue Wrangler jeans fit better than should be legal. His button-up shirt was damp from a day spent in the rain, clinging to his frame in a way that only accentuated his rugged charm. The signature cowboy hat atop his head and that ever-present beautiful smile completed the picture.

As you continued to watch, Tyler's eyes met yours from where he stood about halfway down the bar. His grin widened slightly, and he shot you a playful wink. You raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and turned back to your beer bottle, peeling the label with renewed focus. One of your friends, having caught the exchange, nudged you with a teasing grin.

"Really? Not even a blush for THE Tyler Owens?" she whispered, loud enough for your little group to hear.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just a guy, right?" you replied, playing it cool despite the flutter in your chest.

Your friend's eyes widened in disbelief. "Just a guy? Have you seen his YouTube channel? He's a legend!"

"A legend for making jeans look that good," another one of your friends added.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Legend or not, he's still just a guy."

Your friends laughed, and the conversation continued, but you couldn't help sneaking another glance at Tyler, wondering if he was used to getting such a non-reaction.

About half an hour had passed since Tyler and his crew had settled into the bar. You were perched on a bar stool, peeling the label off your second Bud Light bottle of the night. Your friends had migrated over to the jukebox, dancing on the makeshift dance floor the bar owners had put together, leaving you alone at the bar.

You glanced up and saw Tyler walking towards you, that ever-present grin on his face. He approached casually, stopping in front of the stool next to you. "Is anyone sitting here?" he asked, his tone light.

Tyler took a seat, his charm turned up to the full volume. "I'm Tyler," he said, as if you didn't already know.

You played along, giving him a slight smile. "Nice to meet you, Tyler. I'm (Your Name)."

"It's a pleasure to meet a real-life angel," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed out loud, rolling your eyes. "Wow, that's original."

He chuckled, unphased by your reaction. "Can I get you to dance with me?" he asked, nodding towards the dance floor.

You shook your head immediately. "No, thanks."

Tyler leaned back slightly, still smiling. "Come on, just one dance."

"Nope," you replied, your voice firm but still amused.

He tried one last time, his persistence evident but not overbearing. "Are you sure? I promise I won't step on your toes."

You shook your head again, and Tyler finally raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Maybe another time then," he said with a wink. "Enjoy your night, (Your Name)."

He stood up and headed back to where his friends were, leaving you with a curious mix of amusement and intrigue about the lengths he'd go to win you over.

As soon as Tyler walked away, your friends quickly made their way back to you, their faces lit with excitement and curiosity.

"So, what did he say?" One of them asked, practically bouncing on her toes. "What did he want?"

You took a sip of your beer, trying to play it cool. "He just wanted to chat and asked me to dance."

Your friends' eyes widened in shock. "He asked you to dance? And you said no?"

You nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Yep, I told him no."

They stared at you as if you'd just revealed you were a secret agent. "Are you serious? Tyler Owens? Most women would kill for a chance to dance with him!"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just a guy, remember?"

Your friends shook their heads, laughing and exchanging incredulous looks. "You're unbelievable. But hey, at least you got his attention!"

You chuckled, enjoying the playful banter, and took another sip of your beer. Despite what you had said earlier, you were secretly hoping Tyler would make another move. Or at least try to.

You were leaning against the wall near the pool tables, watching your friends play a game. The bar's dim lighting cast a warm glow over the tables, creating a cozy yet competitive atmosphere. Tyler spotted you from across the room and made his way over, his grin still firmly in place.

"Hey," Tyler said as he approached.

"Hey Tyler," you said returning his smile.

"Looks like you aren't too busy, how about a game of pool?"

You glanced at the open table and raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure...but what's the wager?"

Tyler looked intrigued. "Wager?"

"Yeah," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. If I win, you pay for my next drink, whatever I want."

Tyler's grin widened. "And if I win?"

"You get that dance you were asking for earlier," you said with a smirk.

He extended his hand, and you shook on it. "Deal."

You started the game by playing the role of a novice, pretending not to know the rules or how to handle the cue stick. Tyler, ever confident, offered you the opportunity to break.

"Want to take the first shot?" Tyler asked with a grin.

You picked up the white cue ball and placed it in the center of the table. Looking over at Tyler, you asked, "Is this where it's supposed to go? I've only played once or twice."

Tyler's grin widened. "You're doing perfect so far. Just hit it towards the other balls with a good hit."

You took a deep breath and struck the cue ball. It cracked again the racked balls with a satisfying thud, scattering them across the table. Tyler's eyebrows shot up as he watched them spread, clearly impressed.

"Well, that was a good break," he admitted, though he assumed it was just a stroke of luck.

You lined up for your first shot, aiming carefully. As you sent one of the balls rolling smoothly into a pocket, you looked over at Tyler with a playful smile. "Am I doing this right?:

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "You're not just doing it right - you're making me look bad."

With each shot, you continued to maneuver the balls with impressive skill, all the while maintaining your guise of a casual player. Tyler's initial confidence slowly gave way to a mix of admiration and mock frustration as he realized you were far more adept than you'd let on.

In the end, you won decisively, with a victorious smile on your face. Tyler threw up his hands in mock frustration."Alright, you got me. Guess I owe you a drink."

You laughed, returning the cue sticks to the rack. Tyler led you back towards the bar. "A man's nothing if not true to his word," he said guiding you to the counter.

He flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink for himself before turning to you, "And for the lady, what'll it be?"

You made your choice, and as Tyler paid for it, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of satisfaction. The playful banter and easy chemistry between you were quickly becoming one of the highlights of your night.

As the night wore on, the bar began to clear out. People slowly paid their tabs and headed home, leaving the once bustling room quieter and more intimate. The music had softened, creating a relaxed atmosphere that almost felt private.

All your friends had left by now. One of them had offered to stay so you wouldn't be alone, but you insisted she go home. "I'll let you know when I get home safe," you promised.

Before she left, she teased you, nudging you with a grin. "You better tell us if anything happens with Tyler!"

You rolled your eyes, amused. "He's just a guy, you know. And we are roommates, so you'd definitely find out if anything happened."

"Should I leave a blanket and pillow on the couch for him, then?" She teased before giving you a quick hug and making her way out of the bar.

Your attention shifted to Tyler, who was now alone at the bar. His crew had left, and he seemed to be enjoying a rare moment of solitude.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to him. As you approached, you asked, "Is anyone sitting here?" Gesturing to the stool next to him.

Tyler looked up, surprised by your move. "No, go ahead," he said, his smile returning as he gestured for you to take a seat.

You sat down next to him, feeling the subtle shift in the night's energy. The bar's quiet hum and the soft light made the moment feel unexpectedly intimate.

As you settled onto the stool next to Tyler, the soft lighting and the quiet hum of the bar created a cozy atmosphere.

"So, how were the storms today?" You asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Tyler leaned back, taking a sip of his drink. "Eh, they were okay. Nothing too dramatic. No big tornadoes or close calls like the viewers love. Just a regular chase day."

You nodded, intrigued. "That's too bad. I guess those big moments are what makes the videos so exciting."

"Yeah, they definitely get the adrenaline pumping," Tyler agreed, his gaze shifting from the bar to you. "But enough about me. What's your story? What are you doing in a small town like this?"

You considered his question for a moment before answering. "Actually, this is where I grew up. I graduated a while ago and didn't really know what I wanted to do next, so I stayed on the farm to help my parents out while I figured things out."

"That sounds pretty grounded," Tyler said, his tone genuinely interested. "So, what's next for you? Any big plans?"

You shrugged. "I'm still figuring that out. For now, I'm just here, helping out."

Tyler nodded thoughtfully before turning the conversation back to himself. "And what about me? How did I end up wrangling tornadoes?"

"Yeah, I was curious about that," you said. "How did you get into storm chasing?"

Tyler's eyes lit up with a mix of nostalgia and passion. "Well, I've always loved storms. Ever since I was a kid, they fascinated me. But it wasn't until a few years ago, after a really bad close call during a bull ride, that I decided to make a change. That bull ride nearly ended my life, and I figured if I was going to be on the edge, I might as well do it in a way I love. So I put together a crew of close friends and started recording our chases, and one viral video led to another. Before I knew it, 'Tornado Wrangler' just stuck."

You listened, captivated by his story. "That's pretty amazing. It sounds like it's been quite the journey for you."

Tyler chuckled, a hint of humility in his voice. "Yeah, it's been a wild ride. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and soon you found yourself delving into more personal topics.

"So, do you have a girlfriend or anything?" you asked, trying to keep the tone light but curious.

Tyler let out a thoughtful sigh. "Not at the moment. I get a lot of attention from fans, but being on the road all the time makes it hard to really connect with anyone."

You nodded sympathetically. "That sounds rough. It must be hard to balance everything."

"Yeah, it's a challenge sometimes," Tyler agreed, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "What about you? Any interesting stories from your love life?"

You laughed softly, a hint of self-depreciation in your tone. "Oh, my love life - or lack thereof - is pretty sad, to be honest. It's hard to find anyone in a town this small, especially when you've known most of the guys your age since preschool."

Tyler raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? So you've never met anyone that you were interested in? That sounds like a tough situation."

"It is," you admitted with a shrug. "And I'm not exactly the type of girl guys usually choose first. I'm a little quiet and shy, and a lot of guys think I'm stubborn and hard to break through to."

Tyler chuckled softly. "I'm sure that's not entirely true. Everyone's got their own charm, even if it's not always obvious at first."

You smiled, appreciating his attempt to reassure you. "Thanks, Tyler. I guess we all have our own struggles."

"Definitely," Tyler agreed. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to who gets it."

The conversation continued, with both of you letting down your guards a bit more, enjoying the rare moment of honest connection amidst the bar's quiet backdrop.

The night was winding down, and the bar was now a quiet sanctuary with only a few patrons scattered around. The soft music playing created an almost magical atmosphere. You felt a sense of calm settle over you as you looked over at Tyler, who was leaning against the bar, eyes catching yours.

With a mix of anticipation and nerves, you softly said, "You know, I think I'd like to take you up on that dance," you said, surprising him with your decision.

Tyler's eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with excitement.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement. Tyler slid off his bar stool and extended his hand towards you. With a deep breath, you took his hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving you a look as if seeking confirmation. You returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze, letting him know you were comfortable with the contact.

Tyler led you towards the dance floor, his steps confident but gentle. As you reached the floor, he carefully placed one hand on yours and moved his other hand to your waist. The touch was light but firm, and he drew you closer, though your chests didn't quite touch yet.

The two of you began to sway side to side in time with the music, the silence between you punctuated only by the soft melody playing in the background. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

As the song moved into the second verse, Tyler's hand slid from your waist to your lower back. With a careful and deliberate motion, he pulled you gently into him, closing the distance until your chests were touching. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, and the rhythm of the music guided your movements.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart, and as you swayed together, the intimacy of the moment grew. Tyler's grip was tender yet secure, and you found yourself relaxing into his embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you both moved in sync.

The dance was slow and tender, each movement a soft conversation between your bodies. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a dance that spoke volumes without needing words.

As the dance continued, Tyler's touch grew more confident. His hand on your lower back slid up to your waist, and you instinctively wrapped both of your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. The move felt natural as if you were meant to be in this close embrace.

Tyler's hat, which had been perched atop his head, was suddenly tossed aside with a casual flick of his wrist. It landed somewhere out of sight, but you didn't notice. All your focus was on him and the closeness you shared. His forehead gently pressed against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. The sensation was intimate, his breath soft and warm against your skin.

The world around you seemed to dissolve as you both maintained this closeness. Tyler's eyes, now only inches from yours, were soft and focused. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours synchronized with the rhythm of the music, creating a soothing, rhythmic dance that was more than just physical.

The space between you was filled with unspoken words, a quiet intensity that neither of you needed to voice. Every subtle movement, every shift of his body, seemed to deepen the connection you both felt, making the dance a private exchange that was as much about the closeness and shared warmth as it was about the music.

As you swayed together, the intimacy between you deepened. Tyler's movements became slower, more deliberate, and he began to lean in just a little closer, his face coming nearer to yours. The moment felt charged, his intention clear as he seemed to be inching towards a kiss.

Your heart raced with anticipation, the closeness and warmth of his breath mixing with a subtle thrill of excitement. Tyler's lips were almost close enough to brush against yours when suddenly, the bartender's voice cut through the intimate silence.

"Last call, folks!" the bartender announced loudly. "Everyone needs to pay their tabs and head on out!"

The interruption was jarring, and Tyler halted his movement, his breath now mingling with yours in a mix of warmth and surprise. He straightened up, giving you a sheepish grin. "Well, I guess that's our cue," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

You both laughed softly, the tension of the moment dissipating as the reality of the bar closing in on you settled. Tyler gently released his hold on you, and you reluctantly began to move away from the dance floor, the spell of the moment broken but not forgotten.

As you made your way back to your barstool, you reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet, only to realize with a sinking feeling that your roommate must have grabbed your bag by mistake when she left earlier. You had hoped to settle your tab without any trouble, but now you faced the awkward situation of having the wrong purse.

You turned to the bartender, who had been a friendly face during your many visits. "Hey, I think I've got the wrong purse," you said, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Is there any chance I could come back tomorrow to pay for my tab?"

Before the bartender could respond, Tyler stepped in with a grin. "Hey, don't sweat it," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll take care of it."

You started to protest, but Tyler gently cut you off. He slid his card across the bar and gestured to the bartender. "Put both tabs on this," he said with a wink.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but nodded, taking Tyler's card and beginning to process the payment. You looked at Tyler, a mix of gratitude and surprise in your eyes. "You really don't have to—"

Tyler just shrugged, his smile playful. "Consider it a token of appreciation for the dance. And hey, I owe you a drink, remember?"

You chuckled, touched by his gesture. You and Tyler stood outside the bar, the rain starting to pick up around you. You exchanged numbers with a smile, your fingers brushing against his as you typed in your contact details. He gave you a quick, friendly hug before pulling away, saying, "Goodnight," and heading towards his truck.

You watched him get into his truck, then pulled out your phone to call a taxi, only to realize you had no signal. You sighed, glancing around the deserted street, the dark and the rain making the thought of walking home less appealing. The house you shared with your roommate was only a ten-minute walk away, but the weather was less than ideal.

As you began to make your way towards the street, the sound of a horn blared through the night. You turned to see Tyler's truck pulling up beside you. He rolled down the window, his concerned eyes finding yours. "Hey, what are you doing out here?"

You explained the situation, your voice a mix of frustration and resignation. "My roommate took the car home, and I can't get any signal to call a ride. I was just going to walk—it's not far."

Tyler shook his head, a firm yet gentle tone in his voice. "No way. Get in, I'll give you a ride." His expression made it clear that he wasn't giving you a choice, and you knew better than to argue.

You climbed into the passenger seat, shivering from the cold rain that had soaked through your clothes. Tyler noticed and reached into the back seat, pulling out a hoodie. He offered it to you, but you started to decline.

"It's fine, really—" you began, but he cut you off, insisting as he pulled the hoodie over your head.

"Just put it on," he said gently but firmly, ensuring you were snug and warm. The hoodie smelled faintly of him, a comforting mix of cologne and the outdoors.

You settled into the seat, the warmth of the truck's interior a stark contrast to the chilly rain outside. Tyler glanced at you, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips as drove off into the night.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

loser energy

Just when I thought nothing could surpass Rollo's patheticness... 💀 and then in comes Fellow using the loudspeaker system in the amusement park to gloat about how he has captured some NRC students and taunt the ones he's still hunting down... AND NOT HIM KISSING ASS TO HIS BOSS UP UNTIL THEY HANG UP ON HIM..... . ... ....... . . . ...... .... . . . .. . . ... .. . .. Loser behavior fr 🤡

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

1960 DiDia 150 Custom

The car was originally powered by a 365 cubic inch Cadillac engine, later replaced by a 427 cubic inch high-performance Ford engine, and had a 125-inch wheelbase, with a tubular aluminum frame and a hand-fashioned soft aluminum body. The car has Batmanesque set of rear fins dominating the bodyline and ruby red hubcaps on whitewall tires.

The car was designed by Andrew Di Dia, a clothing designer, who Bobby Darin had met while on tour in Detroit in 1957. Darin telling Di Dia at the time that he would purchase the car if he ever "hit it big".

For seven years, from 1953 to 1960 the DiDia 150 was hand-built by four workers, at a cost of $93,647.29 but sold to Darin in 1961 at a cost of over $150,000 (1.5 million today). At the time the car was listed as most expensive "custom-made" car in the world by the Guinness Book of Records. The body was hand-formed by Ron Clark and constructed by Bob Kaiser from Clark Kaiser Customs.

Di Dia toured the car around the country, when Darin wasn't using it for public appearances. After publicity and film use, Darin donated his "Dream Car" to the National Museum of Transportation in 1970 where it remains. It was restored by Mike Manns of Manns Auto Body in Festus, Missouri before going on display.

The gasoline-fueled V8 engine (originally 365 cid, later upgraded to 427 cid) is located at the front. It is rear-wheel drive. The body and chassis are hand-formed from 064 aluminum with a unitized alloy tube frame.

It has a glass cockpit in back, a squared steering wheel resembling a superellipse and thermostatically controlled air conditioning system. The interior is rust colored in contrast to the ruby paintwork. The design included the first backseat-mounted radio loudspeakers and hidden windshield wipers, which start themselves when it rains. Other features include retractable headlamps, rear turn signals which swivel as the car turns, 'floating' bumpers and a trunk that was hinged from the driver's side. Each of the four bucket seats have their own thermostatically controlled air conditioning, individual cigarette lighters and ashtrays, as well as a radio loudspeaker.

Source: Wikipedia / motorius.com

[stone-cold-groove]

High in fidelity.

[kedsandtubesocks]

cowboys like us

Bull Rider!Din Djarin x F!Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

summary: one cowboy is already a challenge, but two is either going to be your best blessing or worst curse

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern rodeo cowboys AU, Din is still a papa and has his baby, light discussion of the rodeo and events, light angst & miscommunication with eventual resolution, Jack & his sweet talk with calling reader ‘baby, honey, sugar,” bar scene with moments of drinking, heavy making out, intense grinding & dry humping, spicy moments, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship

word count: 5.9k

a/n: welcome to the first fic of the ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series! I know, I know, this is such a strange combo & AU but I’m such a sucker for cowboy Din and of course Jack decided to barge in and here we are lol, the biggest and deepest thank you’s go to @perotovar @lowlights @nothoughtsjustmeds & @beskarandblasters - this wouldn’t be here without y’all and I’m so eternally grateful…and to you if you’re reading this thank you so much

You wonder if maybe you’ve unknowingly slipped into a strange country song and not realized it.

Popcorn litters the floor all around. The plastic arena seat is a bit uncomfortable. A drunk woman behind you almost spilled beer on you but apologized profusely. There are more cowboy hats here than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

But as you sit in this strange existence a voice over the loudspeaker comes and sparks up your soul. As the announcer’s voice booms, loud screams swallow up the air of the stadium.

You spot him already climbing onto the bronco and your heart jumps into your throat.

“The man smooth as whiskey!” The announcer screams clear and booming with an accented southern pride.

“Give it up for Jack Daniels!”

Shrill shrieks erupt fanatically loud as if the place now morphes into a boy band concert instead of a rodeo competition.

That is until the alarm sounds. The chute opens, and the ride begins.

Focusing on Jack is chaotic. The bronco bucks frenzied trying to throw the cowboy off with a wild strength. His black Stetson hat goes flying and your stomach drops at how rapidly his body whips around. Back and forth, back and forth, he tries holding on with simply one hand.

It’s terrifying. It’s hypnotic.

Then it’s over fast.

The beautiful horse flings off Jack and he lands on the dirt. You clutch the edge of your plastic seat. The horse continues bucking and your mind rushes to the worst case scenario of the creature’s strong might rearing down on Jack.

Then the cowboy springs up like nothing.

A smile even illuminates his handsome face and it ignites the crowd into a gleeful roar.

You don’t even know if he did good. You barely understand the point system or average or whatever it is.

The horse thankfully settles and Jack struts away effortless.

Suddenly Jack’s salt of the earth eyes flick up. He scans the crowd until his gaze lands on you.

The seat you’re in sits close to the edge of the arena, on the floor just right outside the ring.

Then, with all the confidence of a man whose job it is to ride a bucking bronco, Jack blows you a kiss.

The drunk woman behind you along with her friends scream their heads off thinking he blew the kiss to them. Maybe he did. He’s a damn flirt. You even glance backward to see one of the girls, very drunk, tries to calm herself down from freaking out.

Jack now walks heads to the side to exit. His eyes however stay glued to you. And the minute you turn back to stare at him…he winks.

Then he vanishes.

This cowboy might be this event’s closer, but this isn’t the end of the rodeo for you. The incoming bull rides shift the air. It’s considered another heavy hitter main event and the anticipation bubbles.

Unlike Jack, who arrives like a firecracker ready to brighten up any room he enters, this cowboy emerges like a shadow.

Keeping his head down, it doesn’t help that a protective mask covers his handsome face. However, the energy radiating off the cowboy’s deadly focus composure is like a quiet storm on the horizon.

He stays silent, doesn’t even lift his eyes up, almost in a focused trance.

“Mr. Silent and Deadly himself… Din Djarin!” The announcers boom out his name.

Then you watch as the man becomes a myth, one who tames a wild force of nature.

Din and bull fly out of the chute with a choking force.

In the same way your breath stopped watching Jack getting bucked around, the same dizzying panic fills you as Din battles the same force.

He stubbornly stays on, rides as the bull thrashes around. You wonder if this is where some mythologies stem from because it is something unreal watching this man move with this powerful creature.

The crowd hoots and hollers cheering Din on. You stay petrified in your seat.

Then the ride finishes fast.

Din flies off the bull and your breathing stops. Rapidly the trainers along with other cowboys scramble to settle the bull and check on Din. The bull rider casually rises up unbothered, unshaken, and the crowd goes wild.

You exhale a loud shaken sigh of relief. Your body feels like jello, as if fear has finally been exorcized from your body leaving you a boneless mess.

Suddenly Din rips the guard mask off and all attention falls to him. Sweat adds a shine to his face and his hair is a tousled mess but he’s never looked more gorgeous.

“What the fuck?! Dude, he’s hot too?!” Someone squawks out.

The ladies sitting behind you of course notice Din and squeal out feverishly. Unlike Jack, an actual peacock who owns the crowd basking in the attention, Din’s face stays lowered with his eyes averted shyly.

Until his dark eyes suddenly flicker up, like a viper peering out from a cave. His eyes find you surprisingly fast.

You and him simply stare at each other. Then so quickly Din averts his eyes away again and heads off.

The shakiest exhale leaves you.

Your heartbeat drums loud in your ears as if you were the one who just finished the wild rides. And maybe you did in your own way.

“Oh my fucking god!” Behind you one of the girls screams. “So many hot cowboys! Like, how the fuck do you pick just one?!”

Alcohol drenches her playful words. However, to you they become barbed and catch on your heart. Because how do you pick between two handsome cowboys different as day and night.

“Babe!” One of the girls giggles. “That’s the secret, you don’t pick just one! You have ‘em all!”

She howls a wild laugh and the others scream scandalized but gleeful. One of them even jokingly says ‘so you gotta catch ‘em all like pokemon!’ which almost makes you laugh.

But the words hang in your heart like a rusting anchor.

Grabbing your bag, you head out. Arriving at the backstage area of the arena, you flash the visitor’s access pass to security who lets you through. You’ve only done this a few times before but your heart still races getting this type of entrance.

Earlier today Din said he’d wait for you after in the small rest waiting room. When you open the door, you stumble upon a sight.

Jack's hand firmly holding Din’s face -

As the two men passionately kiss each other.

Jack’s taller than Din, slightly, not by much. Din’s build however is firmer, solid, compared to Jack’s sleek stature.

Immediately they both break away from each other as if electrocuted.

Din and Jack’s eyes catch sight of you and their faces fall. Din whispers your name out while Jack stays silent.

Reality rams into you like a released wild bull.

Because you realize you’ve interrupted them. You're barging in, an actual third wheel.

You want to move, want to say something. But you can’t even imagine what. It clicks that you read this whole situation wrong. Maybe neither of them actually held feelings for you.

A sudden loud knock on the wall makes you and the cowboys practically jump.

One of the event announcers pops his head in casually.

“Hey sorry, but you’re needed out back Djarin.” He says to Din then leaves.

Even with the surprise arrival and then departure, the thick tension doesn’t leave the air. If anything it’s caused a strange vacuum to form.

Jack now breathes out your name hesitantly. Yet, his eyebrows are furrowed hard, concerned and upset. Din’s dark eyes shine so visibly soaked with worry.

Before you can even say anything one of Jack’s main coaches and manager, Champ, waltzes in. He’s a striking presence that draws all the focuses to him

Champ whistles loud. “Who died in here?”

No one says a word.

“Alrighty then,” Champ shrugs, not wanting to dive into whatever he senses.

“Daniels come on,” he urges. “I ain’t waiting anymore. They’re probably waiting for you too Dinny.”

Champ’s nickname for Din, which Din himself detests, makes you smirk and brightens your spirit for a moment.

But the awful tension stays sticking to your skin allowing a poison to seep in.

“Hey there, sweet pea.” Champ nods his head acknowledging you. With a weak smile you nod back.

You politely excuse yourself and leave.

The walk out of the arena is the longest of your life.

Everything you just saw flashes through your mind a rapid flip picture book. You can process what you saw but can’t fully grasp it.

Even outside, the roar of the rodeo swirls around even in you.

You might have wandered into a country song earlier but you didn’t realize it was going to be a heartbreak one.

You met Din first in a grocery store parking lot.

It had been a total accident. Literally. You had gotten into a small fender bender with him in the parking lot of a grocery store.

He drove the oldest silver Honda Civic ever still existing and still can’t believe it didn’t even manage to take a hit. You were also horrified when you saw there was a baby sleeping away in the car.

Yet the entire time Din was so kind and concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn’t realize it then, but that shy and very handsome scruffy man with his ancient Honda Civic would change the orbit of your life.

Because that day you accidentally collided with a cowboy, it opened your world like a vast desert horizon.

Jack arrived soon after.

If Din was the soft daybreak, then Jack came in like a dust devil.

Though they competed in two different categories, you discovered many rodeo circuits crossed paths.

When you went to visit Din months ago at the ranch housing many of the cowboys for training, that’s when you first met Jack.

He walked straight up to you and asked if you were lost because he was concerned heaven was missing an angel.

He hasn’t shut his mouth since.

Before it was simply you and Din. But Jack is a force that seems to barge his way in like the wild broncos he rode.

He is shameless in flirting. He often playfully touches yours and Din’s cheeks often, or casually drapes himself over you or his fellow cowboy.

Din on the other hand is quietly sweet. He routinely sends you photos of the sunrises of all the cities he travels to.

So opposite, they almost are like the sun and moon.

You began caring for them fiercely and fell so fast.

But now, you contemplate if you simply played yourself a fool becoming your own rodeo clown.

All the ideas, all the heavy conflict of having to pick between the two of them, taste bitter on your tongue. You take a long swing of your drink to hopefully wash it away. It doesn’t.

Din texted you asking to please meet him here at this bar near the secondary training arena and now you wait.

It’s lively tonight. Even after being thrown into the world of cowboys, or rodeo circuits, sitting in the honky tonk bar feels as if you’re on another planet. The music thankfully has a nice beat so you enjoy the song playing.

Someone slides in besides you, not even sitting on the bar stool.

“You seem lonely.” The voice of a stranger.

Besides you, a lanky college freshman looking guy leans against the bar staring at you.

“Just waiting for a friend.” You politely answer.

“Well, maybe you’d like some company waiting?”

You’re about to decline when a looming presence arrives at your back.

“Sorry there buckaroo, but this lovely peach is taken for the night.”

Jack’s smooth voice rings out and shocks your system.

The stranger’s face drops comedically fast and the punk scrambles away without another word.

You turn around and it isn't just Jack behind you but Din is as well.

Jack wears his black cowboy hat and you’re surprised to see Din in one as well. He rarely wears his Stetson but it transforms him.

In typical western, the dark midnight cowboy hats are that of the outlaws, the bandits. One of Din’s managers, an older man named Cobb Vanth, once told you that.

And maybe these two are.

Yet, even as bandits, they stand before you like two country romance song dreams. The kaleidoscopic lights dance and radiate off them.

Din mutters your name with hesitation swirling in his eyes.

Panic prickles against your skin. You’re not ready yet.

So you turn to the bartender and order three rounds.

“Honeypie, we gotta talk.” Jack says low, strikingly somber.

Shaking your head, you swallow hard. “Not now. I just…can we just please…just wait for a moment.”

Please let’s just enjoy this false dream a little longer, is what your heart whispers out.

“Of course.” Din mutters and they both move to sit on either side of you, a sort of barricade you’re already missing.

The drinks come and in a nervous quiet move you and the cowboys cling your glasses together. Everyone tosses the shot back. The tequila burns and helps slightly.

You decide if this a goodbye to this dream, you want to at least enjoy it a bit tipsy. So you order another round.

“Careful.” Din urges, ever the cautious one.

“Come on.” You now perk up. “You two both scored high yesterday! We gotta celebrate.”

Which is true. Even with your brewing heartbreak, you still got excited seeing their scores from the app alert. Because that’s the person you’ve become. You have apps on your phone dedicated to rodeo cowboy scores. Well, you might be deleting those apps soon.

You move to take the next shot.

You raise your glass to your two dear cowboys - the ones who you text everyday, the ones you try facetiming as much as you can, your dearest friends.

And maybe that’s all they will be.

You toast to their scores and to them.

Din’s eyes hold a pained shine in them that makes your heart twist. Jack instead wears a rather terrifying steeled up composed face.

You feel empty taking this shot and only Jack throws his back with you. Din even doesn’t touch his drink.

This time the tequila goes down warm and numbing.

The alcohol begins to work its confidence magic in you as you tease Din for not wanting to drink with you. He however glares at you and you’re reminded of an unwavering mesquite tree.

Maybe this is a bad decision.

You can’t be selfish about this. These two found each other. All those moments you thought they had feelings you simply had read the situation wrong.

“Look,” you sigh now, deflated. “I’m sorry-”

Jack suddenly smacks his hand against the bar countertop. It’s aggressively firm, a loud startling whack of a noise.

“Dancin’.” Jack declares loudly. “We’re gonna dance.”

“What? You and him?” You ask over the music.

“No.” Jack snaps. “We’re all goin’. So get your asses up.”

Din scoffs.

Jack, with firm hands yanking on yours and Din’s sleeves, actually drags everyone to the dance floor.

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. The floor is heavily crowded and no one notices three more additions.

“I don’t dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

Both you and Din fling out the same hurried replies to Jack.

He barks a laugh.

“It ain’t about being good at dancin’. S’about feelin’ the music, feelin’ the beat.” He yells back and then instantly transforms into a commanding force.

Sliding behind you, Jack turns you around to face Din.

His and your eyes go wide.

Jack then reaches to yank at Din’s dusty jacket, effectively pulling him forward -

Straight to your front.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears, so loud it drowns out the music blaring.

“Relax.” Jack purrs out. “Just…feel.”

You want to bark back about how that’s easier said than done. But your tongue gets tied up so badly you can’t form words.

Then one of Jack’s solid hands moves to your hips while the other reaches across to rest against Din’s shoulder.

You’re locked into them.

Jack begins to move you slowly.

The music shifts into something sultry, almost aching to be a slow dance, but a lively beat keeps it moving. You didn’t even think country songs could have this kind of vibe. Even though Jack mainly guides your hips, you already start swaying to the beat on your own.

That’s when Jack slowly bumps and nudges his hip against yours, fully pressing you closer to Din.

The position isn’t lost on you. It’s undeniably intimate, overly sexual, and you’re worried how this looks to others in the bar.

Then Din presses forward firmer against you and your mind blanks for a moment. Now sandwiched between a cowboy canyon, a dangerous heat burst from your chest.

Jack moves his nose against your face.

“Relax gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

Your eyes hazing over flicker to Din who stares out with a deep desire swimming in his eyes. Cautiously his hands now move to rest on your hips. One of them goes on top of Jack’s.

You swallow hard and pray the lingering liquid courage will bless you.

Deliberately, sensually, your hips wiggle and grind between the two of them. You might not be properly dancing right or even swaying to the beat, but desire is the one guiding your body.

Many times nights alone in your bed you've thought of them like this with you. And now, you’re here caught in the sticky heart of that passionate desire.

Din dives forward and presses his face against yours.

Jack groans as his nose buries into your hair. Their cowboy hats create a sort of cover over you casting a shade against the glittering bar lights.

You’re literally under their shadow.

“Oh baby.” Jack whimpers.

Your hands, which you awkwardly kept close to your chest almost afraid to touch this dream and have it pop like a soap bubble, now tingle. You want to touch them both as much as you can.

So one of your hands slides up to hold onto Jack’s face while your other runs up Din’s broad chest to his shoulder. Your hips continue to sway and grind between them.

Then, like a spark ignited, something shifts.

Maybe it’s more people crowding in on the dance floor, or the heat finally bubbling over, but you’re suddenly squished firmly between them, practically glued together. Din’s face, his striking nose, presses against yours while Jack burrows the side of his face against your cheek.

They purposely rut into you. You think this is maybe the closest taste of what it would feel like for them to fuck you and you drown in it.

With Din and Jack, both hard, grinding against your front and back, your eyes close. A debauched sensation sinks its claws into you. It’s sinful and utterly deliriously delicious. You worry you’re about to melt.

Lust rips through you, an incinerating beast, and you bow to it.

In that haze, Din leans down and licks the sweat on your neck. His tongue against your skin, electrifies you. You ascend out of your body and moan.

Your body bucks up hard begging for attention and release only to find you’re still firmly caught between a cowboy canyon.

Jack shushes you firm but low. “G’damn y’all ‘re gonna be the death of me.”

His voice slurs, almost sounded drunk in something dangerous. Din continues licking at your neck not stopping once.

Suddenly Jack moves and shifts your body. The jostling breaks the movement and snaps you aware, like you’re slowly waking up, wearily trying to recapture your focus.

Quickly he snags your hand and Din’s. Out of reflex you clutch onto Din’s jacket. Jack, now a focused man on a mission, guides the three of you out of the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Din mutters against your face.

“Don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

You can’t tell where Jack guides you. The haze still fogging up your focus keeps you surprisingly pliant. It also doesn’t help that Din now practically drapes himself against your back, a protective cowboy like cloak. His lips continue to softly try and kiss any inch of skin he can reach.

You never thought he’d be the greedier one.

Jack guides everyone down a hallway past the restrooms. He even shouts a friendly greeting at someone. Of course he would know people here.

“Get your asses in here.” Jack now growls and his accent seems stronger.

That’s where he opens a door to a small back office type room and barrels everyone inside.

Jack’s not gentle. He almost yanks everyone in like a panicking kid trying to hide something from their parents. The door slams behind him. You’re transported into a badly lit mess of an office.

Jack whips around, pitches forward and before you can react he moves to attack your neck alongside Din.

His tongue licks a possessive strip up to your jaw then starts biting at your skin.

A wild moan escapes you as your eyes blissfully close.

You’re burning up. Your body, now molten, is only held up by your cowboys pressing flat against you. Both Jack’s mustache and Din’s faint beard scrape against your skin beautifully. Two tongues maping out your skin makes your mind evaporate. Every inch of your body screams for them.

That’s when you feel Jack drag his tongue on your neck down towards Din.

With another playful nip at your skin, Jack moves to lick against Din’s mouth still on you.

The wildest moan escapes you and you almost come right then.

Both cowboys almost kiss each other while also trying to still taste at your neck has you absolutely dizzy.

It’s hot and consumes every inch of you. You’re panting ridiculously loud and you can’t even hold back your whines or whimpers anymore. Slick pools between your thighs and sticks to your body. Your neck feels just as wet with the spit covering your skin.

Suddenly a loud aggressive bang rattles the door and your perfect illusion pops.

Panic barrels into you like a wild bull and your eyes go wide.

But your cowboys react fast. Din protectively curls his sturdy arm over you and draws you closer. Jack whips around and stands protectively in front as if to block the view.

Thankfully no one opens the door.

“Ya better not be fuckin’ on my god damn couch, Daniels!” A man howls with laughter.

“No fuckin’ way in hell.” Jack hollers back. “Not when your nasty ol’ ass calls its home.”

From the other side of the door the owner of this room laughs electrically loud. The man smacks on the door twice, an almost playfully goodbye.

The blazing heat that was melting you now simmers out like a fast dying out ember. An awkwardness settles in its place.

Your mind sorts through the heavy doubts again. Were you just a toy for them to play with? And even though a more aggressive side urges you to just enjoy and not think more into this, you don't want to be seen as just an accessory to their duo.

So slowly and quietly you untangle yourself from them.

Din mutters your name slightly confused and Jack turns around looking towards you.

“Where ya headin’ out to, peach?” Jack asks surprisingly composed.

You quietly tell them you’re gonna head home. A thick tension returns, choking the room.

Din calls your name, solid and striking.

“We need to talk.” His words are firm.

You want to make a sarcastic quip that they weren’t much for talking a few moments ago. But you don’t. You want to go home, maybe wash your skin off till you reach bone. You want to wash them away because it’s sinking in.

This last taste of desire is maybe your goodbye.

“Now why ya gotta make it sound like we’re talkin’ about a goddamn funeral, darlin’?!” Jack huffs annoyed.

Din shoots him a sharp annoyed look.

Darlin’

You’ve never heard Jack call his fellow cowboy that.

His nicknames for Din ranged from ‘pigeon’ to ‘sourpuss’ all were affectionately teasing in nature. Now the tender pet name holds the unspoken truth, as if seeing them kissing didn’t solidify it earlier.

“I’m sorry, I just…I read this wrong…” your voice becomes small and deflated. You would head home with a broken pride, but you didn’t want to be bitter about this.

Your eyes flicker up to them.

“You two… I’m glad you both found each other.” You smile weakly, the strongest attempt at being honorable and good. Yet the words turn to ash on your tongue.

You promise you’ll text them when you get home and now turn to leave again.

“The fuck s’that all about?” Jack snarls and his words snap your spine straight.

“Jack.” Din chides him sharp and your attention whips back to them a bit panicked.

Anger, along with the faintest edge of annoyance, colors Jack’s handsome face as he glares at you.

Your face scrunches up confused. What is he so upset about?

“The three of us were practically just humping like fuckin’ barn animals in heat and you wanna say shit like that?” A hot flash runs in Jack’s eye and you swear he even sounds hurt.

“Don’t say it like that.” Din glares.

Your eyes flicker between them and an edge of panic starts crawling on your skin.

“Wait, what?” You mutter out confused.

Silence suffocates the room and it feels like you’ve entered into a classic western standoff waiting to see who will strike first.

“Oh baby,” Jack’s gentle exhale shatters the moment as his eyes stare so directly at you. “Ya haven’t realized it?”

“What?” You squeak out confused.

“We’re crazy for ya… like a bunch of fools tangled up in a damn lasso.”

Jack’s words ignite a flurry of sparks within your chest that knock you breathless.

Turning towards Din, you notice his Stetson hat slid off, possibly during the heat of the moment earlier. But it allows you the clearest view of his gruff face and you think he’s never looked younger. His face is open. Hesitation and worry linger in Din’s dark road eyes reminding you of how secretly tender hearted this cowboy is.

Then Din nods so slowly, agreeing.

You almost choke on an inhale.

The sudden thought of picking between them has a fanged spike of anxiety rushing through you.

You didn’t want to pick. But, were you being selfish because of that?

Sensing your hesitation, or catching whatever emotions now flood your face, both cowboys now hesitantly move towards you.

“Talk to us, please.” Din softly urges.

Your voice cracks, tripping on itself annoyingly conflicted. But you manage to cough out that you don’t think you can pick between them. You don’t think you ever could and you’re worried your heart might not even handle it.

“Oh sweet baby,” Jack breathes out.

Suddenly the back of his hand tenderly strokes your cheek. Din gently glides his hand to your back and softly rubs you soothingly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at their sudden shift in affections.

“You don’t have to worry…or pick.” Din explains softly and with comfort.

Wait.

“You both…” you exhale shakily. “You two want me? Want us?”

For some reason, the notion of ‘us’ strikes you right then and there. That idea of you and them becoming an ‘us’ feels like the most natural progression in your mind.

Your best friend, when you told her about you and these cowboys, had cautiously asked if there was maybe a possibility of a poly type relationship happening. You immediately shot her down, not even wanting to think of the option.

But if you had been honest, a part of you started feeling guilty at the thought of wanting that. You enjoyed spending time with Jack just as much as Din. And you enjoyed spending time with them together.

Now you stand on the new ground of something beautiful waiting for you to step into.

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to ya…but we’ve been an us even before our dumbasses even realized it.” Jack snorts.

Din rolls his eyes and you snicker. But Jack is right.

Tentative date-like nights included Jack joining. Jack constantly invited both you and Din to his ridiculously lavish RV he used for the rodeo road trip days. That eventually led to days where you and Jack waited together for Din to finish. Or Din and you watching Jack practice. Din even began bringing his adoptive son over and Jack took to the baby like a fish to water.

This path you unknowingly had been on now is about to be crystalized before you and it warms every bit of your soul.

But a sharp fanged doubt suddenly gnaws at you.

“Wait,” your voice wavers. “This…this isn’t the alcohol talking right?”

Din sighs, shaking his head no but Jack answers first.

“‘Fraid not gorgeous. Been wanting this for a while.”

All worries get snipped and float out of your body leaving you so limitless.

Din leans to draw you into his side embrace and burrows his face against you.

“Sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.” He mutters. “It all just…kind of happened.”

You understand and lean back against him. Din exhales shaky, soaked in a relief you can almost feel in your bones.

“Now, now, you two angels can’t go leavin’ out ‘ol Jack.” Of course Jack chimes in.

“Maybe it’s time we rethink this.” Din dryly comments and you laugh when Jack squawks out like a disgruntled crow.

But he effortlessly manages to borrow against both you and Din. It’s a little cluster, a soft clanging of bodies, but it’s cozy and feels right.

Someone yells outside the door laughing and your heart jumps.

“Whose office are we even in?” Din mutters out.

“Jimmy’s. Well technically mine too since I own the bar with him.” Jack casually drops.

Of course he did.

“And as cozy as it is here,” Jack adds gently. Both of their hands now intertwine against your hip.

“I say we move this little party somewhere nicer, like let’s say…my trailer?” Jack offers.

His RV is nice. Din’s is very spartan compared to Jack’s that had a full king sized bed and jacuzzi.

They truly are your sun and moon, so opposite and yet so beautifully brightening up your sky. A beautiful buoyant bliss fills you knowing you’re in their orbit, just as much as they’re in yours.

Din’s baby boy is a fidgety one. While he enjoys running around, he also loves to watch the world form anyone’s welcoming arms.

Which at the moment happens to be yours.

The baby chews happily on his favorite adorable stuffed longhorn plushie while the two of you enjoy the peace of the arena.

Without the noise, the yells and commotion of the crowd, or the sea of cowboy hats, the arena is strangely quiet, almost church-like in its own way. You understand now how it can even inspire a deep devotion.

After all, you see it through the eyes of two cowboys.

The baby happily shrieks and begins twisting in your arms. You turn to see what’s gotten his attention.

“Why howdy there my lil’ tumbleweed!” Jack warmly cries out and without hesitation scoops the sweet little boy into his arms.

The baby squeals in delight as Jack peppers him with kisses. Your heart melts at the sight.

“Don’t worry, didn’t forget about you too darlin’.” Jack winks and leans to kiss you soft now.

His mustache tickles your lips and you smirk. He also playfully and lightly smacks your bottom. You shoot him a look while Jack innocently shrugs.

“Our cowboy come out yet?” He asks.

You shake your head. Not yet. Din being ever the respectful man he is, allowed the others to use the practice bull first and took the last slot available for the practice times.

However, his team and the others arrive just as fast. Din steps out, the true silent assassin he’s regarded as. He’s memorizing to watch, so deeply focused and intense.

The baby now whines at being held and demands to be put down.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch him, you watch Din.” You reassure Jack while he places baby boy on his feet. The baby immediately waddles away, absolutely giddy to be free.

“Lil’ stinker.” Jack affectionately teases with adoration shining in his eyes.

Your eyes now watch the curious little babe you treasure so dearly. Behind you though, the training starts.

The clang of the chute being prepared and the commotion of the team getting ready fills the arena.

Then the alarm blares. The loud noise has the baby jolting in surprise. Before he can cry at the sudden noise, you quickly scurry over and swoop him back in your arms. You playfully press a loud raspberry against his sweet chubby cheeks and he giggles.

The noise of the ride erupts with the thrashing of the bull and the upheaval of the dirt.

Then, it’s all over.

“Attaboy!” Jack cries with a loud proud clap.

The baby, now fully distracted by the commotion, seems happy in your arms again as you approach Jack’s side.

Quickly your gaze goes to the arena to make sure Din’s alright.

“How did he do?” You ask about Din.

“Better! Still ain’t as good as yesterday's time but rides like these just help keep ya warm and flexible.” Jack explains.

With the bull settled, Din moves towards Vanth to discuss the ride.

Din draws his helmet up and already has so much sweat on his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is, rugged and adorably scruffy.

“Bweh!” The baby happily spots his papa and squeaks.

The noise causes all in the ring to turn towards where you three stand. Cobb Vanth grins kindly and Din’s eyes soften immediately spotting your little cheering group.

“Yeah lil cowpoke, you didn’t get to see how good your papa was, but he did great.” Jack coo’s as he softly smooths out the baby’s hair.

With a pat on the back from his manager, Din jogs over to you and Jack.

It’s unique, this new carved out existence of yours with them. But it’s beautiful and feels as if it’s always meant to be, like this has been in your veins long before you even knew.

Din reaches the edge of the ring and you and Jack shower him with praise. It’s adorable watching him get flustered at all the attention given to him, especially when you lean and Jack lean to kiss his cheeks.

“Seems like your ridin’s was a little rusty today though, cowboy.” Jack purrs. “Maybe we should all have a nice private lesson after this.”

“Hope those lessons aren’t with you. Last time you were out by the second count.” Din, like the surprisingly snarky man he is, effortlessly replies back as snatches the baby wiggling trying to for him.

Jack squawks hilariously upset and you snicker as your heart fills to the brim.

The arena is quiet, a sacred space that watches over all of you together like this. And it’s special, having this moment here with both of them.

You think there might not be many country songs about snagging two cowboys, but it’s okay.

You find this song in your heart feels eternal.

[micahslibrary]

recently i’ve been going to the library during the hottest time of day to read and enjoy the ac. usually i have to walk a few laps around the place to find a seat because everyone else also thought it would a good idea to enjoy the ac. today i found a nice reading chair and i sat there for a couple hours reading Becoming Ms. Burton (memoir about Susan Burton’s life, mass incarceration, and particularly about being a systems-impacted mother struggling with addiction. i definitely recommend it!).

today the library had a paint and sip program for adults that they announced over the loudspeaker. i decided to join in, and i got to do some watercolor painting, drink some tea, eat some rice crackers, and chat with some nice strangers. library win

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

DAVE: [tries to cut fruit with a sword and nicks his hand cause there arent just regular knives in the kitchen]

BRO, through loudspeaker system set up through the house: MINUS ONE HP