#two real cowboys

[darlingjmiller]

hey so

has anyone else made the Silva and Jake/Din and Cobb Vanth connection yet

It’s been bouncing around my brain since the trailer dropped

[scapegods]

Yeehaw Byler 🪑

my piece for @bylerbigbang w/ @willelworld

[heavydistraction]

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Soda flexes his fingers instinctively. Fiddles with the edge of his vest, pulls at a loose string at the bottom of his shirt. He wasn't nervous, per se. Just... fidgety. Steve side-eyes him once, bats his hand away from undoin' the buttons on his sleeve Darry had done up for him.

Somewhere out in the arena the announcer's voice echos off the stands, the crowd hissin' 'n booin' in one voice. Someone's ride cut disappointin'ly short. Not endin' bloody enough to earn the mobs sympathy.

There's light in Soda's veins. The rodeo's an alive thing 'n he can feel it twist 'n rear up all around him. He can smell the anticipation in the air, the thrum of a ride burnin' up his neck, down his throat, fillin' his lungs. Soon enough he'll be strung up between the sky 'n the swirlin' dust 'n for as long as he can hold tight (forever), fingers busted 'n bleedin' 'n clingin' on for a lifetime (a minute).

He can feel everythin'.

"You sure about this?" Steve asks, plaintively 'cause he knows the answer. He's got the collar of his vest popped up around his face to block out some of the dust, the edges of his tan lines showin', twistin' the buttons of the denim back 'n forth between calloused fingertips.

"Do ya hafta ask?" Soda's grin is sharp 'n laughin' 'n full of teeth. Steve always got a lil' nervy before Soda rode. 'N who could blame him? Maybe he was just makin' up for Soda's complete 'n utter certainty he'd be fine. 'Cause bad things just bounced right off Soda. Didn't stick one bit.

Steve nods lamely, looks out over the empty stables, sighs. "I don't."

"C'mon, Stevie." Soda nudges him hard, kicks out a boot, careful to keep his spurs tucked away. Steve knocks him away, rolls his eyes. "You're startin' to sound like Dar."

Steve scowls just like Soda knew he would. He leans further off the half wall he's perched up on 'n wags a mockin' finger in Steve's face.

"You're gonna get yourself trampled, Sodapop Curtis! If that horse doesn't kill ya I sure will!" Soda mimicks Darry's naggin' 'n Steve wants to keep lookin' put out but he can't really manage it anymore 'n the corner of his mouth crooks up.

"'N don't you go lookin' smug, Steven Randle! One day you're gonna crash that goddamn beater of yours in those fool-headed drags you're always mixed up in." Steve puts his hands on his hips 'n suddenly they're both gigglin'. Mouths wide open 'n throats lined with the packed earth.

"Sodapop Curtis?" They both shut themselves up right quick 'n one of the wranglers peers around the corner, beckons Soda on. Soda nods, hops off the wall, tugs on the bottom of his vest again. The man vanishes quick smart back around the corner.

Suddenly nothin's real funny at all. Soda can feel his heart thumpin' hard in his chest, kicks at the dirt. Steve looks pale. Studies Soda with narrow, dark eyes. Doesn't like what he sees.

"You sure?"

Yes. More than anythin'. "Yeah, man." Steve worries at his lip, doesn't say anythin' else. "Stop lookin' like you're sendin' me to the gallows, Stevie. I'll be fine." He shoots him a wink 'n Steve shakes his head, conceeds.

"Fine. Fine! You'll be fine." he throws his hands up, sounds like he's mostly tryin' to convince himself. Soda doesn't need assurin'. He'll be more than fine. He'll be alive.

Steve watches Soda grin, tip two fingers to his forehead, take a runnin' start towards the gate, jump to click his heels together 'cause he knows it'll make Steve laugh. 'N he does. But when Soda takes one last look back Steve's eyes are clouded 'n worried.

There's a breeze that blows through the gate that tastes like somethin' Soda's never felt before. Somethin' dark 'n cold 'n turns his stomach. Somethin' like the other side of anticipation. Like comin' down. Hard 'n fast.

"Hey Soda!" But then Steve's runnin' to catch up with him, stale air burnin' in livin' lungs. "Be careful out there, cowboy."

"Y'know me, Steve." 'N he tips his hat 'n hops the fence, smooth 'n practiced 'cause everythin's fine. Soda's alive. "Always." Like bein' careful was somethin' up to him at all.

The stands are packed. A mass of arms 'n legs 'n openin' 'n closin' mouths, whisperin' 'n hollerin' 'n sighin' all with one throat. The sun is honey in a glass, beatin' down 'n findin' every last one of the freckles dotted across Soda's cheeks 'n collar bone like hastily cast dice.

There's music playin' somewhere, creepin' out from the corners of the arena, shiftin' 'n echoin' 'n Soda can feel the tinny bass in his bones. The thunder before the lightnin'.

"-Sodapop Curtis!" The announcer shouts 'n suddenly every eye in the stands is on him. But Soda's only lookin' for a handful.

"Soda!" Someone calls his name over the wordless thrum of poundin' feet 'n wailin' voices 'n pointin' fingers. Pony's on his feet, jumpin' 'n shoutin'. Darry's got a hand on his shoulder to make sure he don't go straight over the rail with the sheer amount of thrashin' around he's doin' but he's hollerin' just as loud, grinnin' from ear to ear. Steve's pressed in on his other side 'n all that early grief seems to have burned right off him 'cause he could rival Pony with the sheer amount of wavin' 'n whoopin' he's doin'.

Soda grins, somethin' that hurts his face with the force of it. Not the kind of crowd pleasin' simperin' smirk that always got him tips down at the DX. Or the kind that pulled the corners of his mouth up but didn't really manage to fool anyone that knew him. No, Soda's grinnin' like he's full of light. 'N everyone could see.

He reaches up, pulls his hat off 'n shakes out his hair, bowin' deeply. The crowd wails. He's glowin'. He can feel it. He's on fire.

Someone hollers, crooks a finger, guides him up to the chute. The bronc rattles against the wall, tries to toss his head back, shifts angry 'n trapped 'n Soda pauses, places one hand against the soft pelt along his neck, feels his pulse beatin' hard 'n frantic against his palm.

Soda's never seen the ocean but he imagines the whole thing is there, rushin' through the bronc's veins, slammin' against his fingertips.

"C'mon, kid." Someone prods at him 'n Soda slides his hand down to the reins, throws himself into the saddle. The chute is burnin' metal, hot even through his jeans, the saddle is worn 'n sturdy 'n made for Soda. Everythin' sings.

'N then the gate is thrown open 'n the bronc doesn't even wait to clear the chute before he's buckin' up, desperate 'n wild. Soda clings on.

He's ridin' the back of a lightnin' bolt. He's never comin' down. Summer is in his fingers, on the back of his neck. He is a thousand focused things. He is August 'n July 'n especially June. He is the northern winds. He is the dust in his lungs. He is a cowboy. He's comin' home.

The next few things happen very fast.

The bronc twists unexpectedly. Soda's center of gravity pitchin' to the side. He scrambles to readjust, doesn't manage it. He feels himself tippin' 'n knows from years 'n years of practice he should just go with it. It's safer to just give it up. Fold your hand 'n wait a weekend to try again.

But Soda's burnin' up. 'N he doesn't ever want to go out. He can hold the whole world in his hands if he can just stay in that saddle.

So he spurs further, digs in his heels, tries to wriggle 'n fight 'n force.

It ain't enough. And the come down with Soda ain't ever pretty.

He tries to roll 'n the ground comes up to meet him fast. Too fast. He hits hard. Tries to pop to his feet. Keep movin'. Keep safe. Keep away. But he can't. Somethin' off center 'n off kilter. He can't place. His heart is beatin' so loud in his ears he can't hear nothin' else.

The bronc books for the other side of the stands, two wranglers beat it after him, cornerin' him, pullin' him away. But no one's lookin'. Not even Soda.

No. Every eye in that arena is trained on him. Splayed out 'n sittin' in the dust. For a moment there's silence. A ringin' in Soda's ears that turns into a rush. Singin' that fades off into screamin'.

He looks up into the stands, dazed, 'n turned around. He's still grinnin'. Can still feel that lightnin' bolt buzzin' against his skin. Like that year Soda was eight 'n Darry was twelve 'n he lost a bet 'n had to stick a fork in an electric socket. Just to see.

He'd fizzed out every light in the whole house 'n his daddy had damn near skinned him alive but Soda could still picture that feelin'. Like a Christmas tree or a house with all the lamps flicked on. Electricity all under his fingers, buzzin' 'n poppin' 'n speakin' its own language.

When he finds Darry out there in the crowd it all drains straight outta him. The kitchen sink with the plug pulled out. There's a look of deft horror on Darry's face. He's ashen, not movin' at all. Soda's stomach does a lurch 'n he hits the bottom. Hard.

For the first time he looks down. 'N for a moment he can't make sense at all of what he's lookin' at. That was his leg, right? Did it always look like that? Legs weren't supposed to bend that way, were they?

The crowd hisses, moans. It wasn't a long ride. But it was enough to earn their sympathy.

When he tips his head back again Darry's jumped the wall, runnin' hard 'n fast.

Funny. Soda giggles, 'cause he ain't thinkin' straight at all. If Darry had run like that at his last game his team woulda won. But then Steve 'n Pony are hot on his heels 'n Soda stops thinkin' anythin' at all.

'Cause maybe Soda's a bit of a bawl baby. That was fine with him. Better than to never cry at all, even when Steve 'n Two 'n Dallas teased him. But he doesn't think anyone could fault him now for pullin' the one leg he can still drag through the dirt up to his chest 'n lettin' out a low, tearin' sob that rips straight up from a place so deep in Soda it scares him.

'Cause he knows right there. Before Darry collects him up in his arms 'n carries him to the car. Before the drive, silent 'n hollow 'n filled to overflowin' with the knowin'. Before the doctors at the hospital have to reset his leg, Soda howlin' 'n sobbin'. Before Darry comes back into his room with the set in his jaw like someone died.

It's over. Soda's never gonna ride on the coattails of a summer wind ever again. He rode the lightnin'. 'N the lightnin' won.

[whollyjoly]

hot in the day, hot in the night, hot as the coal coming to tread, light on your bed, here we go oh, listen whistle roll (baby the, the sun is getting low)

the bucktommy cowboy au nobody asked for part two (part one) (part three)

(song insp.)

[rangersoup]

I totally didn’t go to Austin and buy not one but two cowboy hats because I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. And I’m 100% definitely calling black one that looks like the hat Carlos wears in that one dinner scene “The Carlos Hat” and I’m also definitely not calling the light tan one with a more square curve in the brim that’s the same as Soup’s hat “The Soup Hat”. I would never do anything like that. It’d be so wildly out of character for me to ever do anything like that.

[blossoms-phan]

watching pj open the packs is so fun i love friends but the photocards are the best merch ever forever shoutout @dip-the-pip for giving me my fave ever rawr xD shiny uni hoodies

[vaguely-concerned]

Ooh. should I have rye without any of his makeup on for the final lucanis romance scene this time, to mirror him starting the game off wearing none while running around with varric (sometimes glitches are storytelling opportunity blessings in disguise). finally allowing oneself to be seen literally barefaced, without embellishment or obfuscation through deliberate curlicue, stripped of the image of yourself you meant to present because you yourself don't know what is hiding underneath anymore -- and being so readily recognized and tenderly loved through it anyway. you know me so well it makes me no longer a stranger to myself. well. what it lacks in subtlety as a metaphor, it more than makes up for in making me feel nuts. Yes. Yes. I think that might indeed emotionally devastate me

(the mutual desperation of like... intimacy and recognition and relief in this romance still shakes me to the very core btw. if you even care. rook walking through the mind lucanis is so sure has been broken to the point that it's 'no longer the mind of a crow -- not even the mind of a human being (no longer me)', and recognizing him every step of the way so undramatically and completely, finding him where he's been hiding even from himself. because he knows it's where they'll look first. and helping him come back to himself just by standing there next to him, promising to walk beside him. rook stumbling out of the fade confused and disoriented and robbed of the lies they told themselves to survive, and lucanis being there to catch them. and giving that back to them. all the fear and confusion and longing resolving into calm certainty because rook is rook. and rook is there. and next to that nothing else really matters. you're here. you're really here. and so am I. (why would I be anywhere else, when you're here.) and between them there's safe shelter from the storm outside like spite writes about with him and lucanis before. hello. help. can anyone hear me.)

[lykaios2]

cowboy f!Leo propaganda but fanfic >>>>

(cowboy f!Leo x fem reader and yes its placed in the wild west)

The doors of the saloon burst open, and everyone turned their heads to see a mysterious figure standing in the cloud of dust that had formed. He scanned the room in front of him, before making his way inside. He was a tall, muscular man with a relaxed, almost unbothered look on his face. He donned a traditional cowboy hat and a long, flowy beige coat, both with a dark blue trim. As he walked to the counter and began to make conversation with the bartender, everyone resumed their activities.

You sat alone at a table, only wanting to enjoy the background noise of all the happenings at the saloon. It was a familiar, comforting sound, and a nice way to relax after a long day. In fact, you were so absorbed in the bustling atmosphere that you hadn’t noticed the man from earlier take a seat next to you at your table.

“Pardon, m’lady, I hope you don’t mind if I sit here.”

“Oh, not at all.”

“Thank you very much, then.”

Now that you could see him up close, he seemed a different person. He had a smile on his face now, as opposed to the not-so-friendly look he wore earlier. From the way he carried himself, you would think not to mess with him. But he was quite relaxed now, humming along to the tune of the music and enjoying his drink. He didn’t seem to be doing much else, so after a minute of silence, you struck up a conversation again.

“So, what brings you to these parts? Don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Ah, same as ever. Been looking for a new place to settle down. I’ve been on the road for quite some time now, so it’s real good luck to find a place like this to cool my heels.”

“Have you walked all this way?”

“Oh, heavens no. A man would be crazier ‘n horse feathers to make that kind of trip on foot. I got my trusty steed set up in the stables for the time being.”

“Right, ‘course. So then, whaddya think of our town here?” He looked around, as if to recall everything he had done so far. It wasn’t much, though.

“Can’t say I know too much about it, but I’m takin’ a fancy to it so far.”

“Well, why don’t you stay a while? It’d be my pleasure to show you around, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. A kind soul you are, ma��am, and a darn good-lookin’ one too, I must say. I’d be delighted to have you as my guide.”

You blushed a bit at his comment. Not only was he a kind gentleman, but a sweet-talker too. He just smiled innocently, as if he didn’t know what he’d just done. After he finished enjoying the festivities, you led him out into the town. He followed you around as you showed him all the shops, the hotel, the well, and the residential areas.

“What’s your name, by the way? I don’t believe you mentioned it, and I’ve been wondering what to call you by…”

“Oh, my apologies, ma’am. The name’s Leonardo, but you can just call me Leon.”

“Leonardo. Quite a nice name. Sounds very formal.”

“Why, thank you. My dear papa gave it to me.”

“Haha, who else? How is your papa? Still around?”

“He is, thankfully. He’s getting up there in years, though. Doesn’t have much time left in this world. I’d hope to maybe get settled down somewhere before he moves on, so he knows that I’ll be happy.”

He looked a bit sentimental. He went on to tell many stories about his father, and his three brothers. His adventures were incredible. As he talked through the night, you watched the sun go down and the moon come up. After a little while, he stopped talking, and looked up at the night sky, watching the stars. Soon after, he got up from where he was sitting and stretched out his arms.

“Well, it’s gettin’ quite late, I suppose we should be hitting the hay now. Although…” He looked around. “…I don’t believe I’ve got a place to stay.” He turned to you with a sheepish smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, now would you?”

“Oh, yes, I do have a guest room, if you’d like to stay.”

“Why, darling, you are just the nicest person I’ve ever met. You know…” he said, taking your hand. “I think I might just stay here a while. Those other towns I came across, they were alright…” he brought your hand up and placed a soft kiss on it. “But none of them had you in there.”

[kindahoping4forever]

And everyone gasped

(no one was surprised, not even a little)

[misslisamiray]

Y'know, since the Spike pic popped up in my FB memories recently, I HAD to do a side by side of me at 19 in my first cosplay and me at 40 in my most recent cosplay.

Also, "Unmortricken" was on at 3:30 A.M., and after that I watched the last two episodes of Cowboy Bebop. So I'm very in my feelings about all of that (and these pictures).

And I need to make it everyone's problem before I have to start getting ready for the blood center.

Also, for Tumblr only, here's something you may not know: The Adult Swim premiere dates for "The Real Folk Blues" are November 18th, 2001 (Part 1) and November 25th, 2001. (Part 2). The original airdate of "Unmortricken" is November 12th, 2023.

So while the actual premieres are over two decades apart, the anniversaries are super close to each other. I need mutuals who are in both of these fandoms to just... be insane over that the entire month of November with.

[butchsailor]

My butch is SO HOT she sends me selfies and I go PHWOAR and have heart palpitations

[anonwyvern]

I made an appreciation post for my own OC Cross (cringe, who, me? yes) cause I thought it would've been kind of neat to showcase his progression over the years.

Minor info dump (without any spoilers):

Cross is a ghoul, bounty hunter by trade and mercenary by name. If there's a good enough price, he'll take the job with few questions asked. An insatiable womanizer with a skewed moral compass, he's known as The Eastern Cowboy and The Devil's Dealer (and to a few ghoul ladies at a certain New Vegas brothel, 'The Lusty Lady Licker') and is one hell of a shot with his signature .44 magnum. He's also a drunk, heavy smoker, and has a knack for telling the worst jokes you've probably ever heard.

Timeline under the cut!

December 2020- The fic that started it all...one I have come to rewrite in its entirety and is now the first installment of my Middle of the Crossroads series that is currently ongoing!

April 2021 - my first digital art piece and messing around with the program (CSP) and brushes and whatnot. Writing Eulogy actually made me want to illustrate my OCs and get into art to begin with, and I was so (un)believably frustrated with my lack of skill it was maddening.

April/May 2021- My "concept" art (lmao)

December 2021 - played a lot with the lighting/colors. I would someday love to recreate this piece with light-up effects. Someday!

January 2022 - my initial design of him. Very muscular indeeeeedy.

February 2022 - still playing with anatomy and a multitude of styles and brushes at this point

April 2022 - ah, I did this piece all in one go of about eight hours, and I'm still very proud of it cause it was the first time I felt I had actually "captured" his character. A very big jump from a year ago!

May 2022 - wanted to take a stab at his cowboy persona, but hated the face

March 2023 - fixed the face, nearly a year later!

December 2023

June 2024 - his glowing concept comes later in the series, and I wanted to try my hand at it after being heavily inspired by the next two pieces below!

And these last two are NOT my own works, but commissions I had received from the very fucking talented @pirate-cashoo! (Go check them out!!)

Cowboy Cross and Glowing Cross!

And that is the entire journey (so far) of this character that's been on my mind for years too many!

[landfilloftrash]

miscellaneous cowboys

[mintcakeart]

cowboy warm up sketch 9/1/24

the two genders: spiderman warm up sketch and cowboy warm up sketch, take your pick

reference

[majortomwaits]

i got three violation notices on pinterest?????