#This look has potential cowgirl vibes

[atrwriting]

kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA

send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3

I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy

as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation

thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!

ANYWAYS... part two:

neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.

in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.

the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.

he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.

everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.

billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.

…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.

you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.

you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.

the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.

the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.

it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.

billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.

like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.

there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.

unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.

you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.

if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.

were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?

questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.

no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.

a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.

when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.

“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”

you froze in your tracks.

this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.

fucking billy.

but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.

“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”

he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.

“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”

you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”

he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.

“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”

you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.

“shut your mouth, ollinger.”

your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.

ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.

“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”

billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”

“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”

“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”

ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.

your eyes… well, they showed terror.

ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?

without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.

ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”

as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.

as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.

you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.

however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”

you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”

jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.

with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.

you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.

ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.

“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”

you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.

the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.

there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.

billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.

billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…

but not poor billy.

no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.

billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.

billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.

“please,” you whispered, helpless.

in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.

you followed jesse, pat, and the others.

billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.

this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.

“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”

immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.

“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.

billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.

your blood boiled.

you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.

he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”

and started straight towards you.

you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.

he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.

billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.

against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”

you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”

“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.

billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.

“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“

“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.

billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.

with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”

“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”

he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.

your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.

“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”

he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”

the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.

your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.

he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”

his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.

billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.

your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.

“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”

his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.

“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”

even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”

in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.

“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”

he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.

“more, please…” you whispered.

“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.

“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”

with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”

you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”

he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”

“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“

“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”

“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”

“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”

“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”

billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.

without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.

“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“

his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”

you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“

“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”

“your cock, billy — please —“

“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”

“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.

“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”

“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.

with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?

you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.

“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.

“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”

the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.

his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.

however, he wasn’t through with you yet.

no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.

not when he had finally had you after so long.

it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.

his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.

he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.

“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.

you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.

billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.

“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”

“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.

“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."

your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.

“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."

“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”

his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.

billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.

desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.

he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”

"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."

“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”

“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”

with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.

that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.

the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”

at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.

you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.

“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”

“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.

“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”

----

im buzzing after that

love u guys hehe

-L oxoxox

#william bonney #billy the kid #William h bonney #kid antrim #william h bonney x reader #william bonney smut #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy x reader #billy smut #billy the kid imagine #billy imagine #William h bonney smut #tom Blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

[marlenesluv]

hii shawty i have another smau thought/request! max x country girl (like claire monroe/monroe derillo) and people find out about their relationship and social media hates her since shes SO country and so much younger than him

better kept secret. (MV)

hii! i can definitely do that, i love this idea as well :)

pairing: max verstappen x country reader

fc: claire monroe

warnings: some social media hate from maxs fans. not rly a warnings, but age gap! (7 years)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: maxverstappen1, yourbsf, and 32,184 others

y/n.user: what’s more fun than sonic at 2am?

view comments…

user61: sonic > anything else fr

f1.updates: did max like this?…….

|> wagsf1: no- no way….

formula1fans: i will not stand for this, no way max knows her

|> user4: who even cares LOL

yourbsf: you are so beautiful, HELLO????

|> y/n.user: awe, thank you hun🥹

f1.edits: i am not editing her….. ummm

|> formula1fans: who asked you to? LMAO

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 487,104 others

maxverstappen1: great night in monza. excited for this little break for two weeks

view comments…

f1fan: who’s the girl….

|> wagupdates: it might be @y/n.user. she liked this and he liked her most recent picture. idk, i could be wrong but it also looks like her in this pic

|> f1fan: bro she’s like 16

|> formula1fans: she’s 18. but it’s legal sooo

|> f1fan: it’s weird, babe

|> formula1fans: idk

charles_leclerc: congrats about monza!!

|> maxverstappen1: thank you!

_______________________________________________

liked by: maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 71,294 others

y/n.user: 🍹(it’s a virgin drink lolz)

view comments…

f1.wags: don’t tell me that’s max, pls no

|> formula1fans: it rly looks like him….

maxverstappen.fp: theres no way this is the girl he’s dating. this country girl?

mv.redbull: shes way too young for him…

|> formula1fans: pierre and his gf, kika, have a bigger age gap than this… who cares?

yourbsf: my prettiest cowgirl in all of the south 💓

|> y/n.user: ilyyyyy

y/n.fans: these comments are literally not it.

lilymhe: the suit….it looks so good on you

|> y/n.user: ty lily!!!

_______________________________________________

liked by: pierregasly, maxverstappen1, and 81,194 others

y/n.user: baes first rodeo 🫶

view comments…

yourbsf: SO FUN WOOOOO

|> y/n.user: took his rodeo virginity YEEHAW🤠😭🤭

f1wags: nah, this ain’t it.

user98: i’m so confused, is this max?

|> f1updates: i think soo…….

|> f1wagupdate: soft launch vibes but i think we all know

francisca.cgomes: the fits are givinggg💓

|> y/n.user: thank you kika😊🤍

|> f1.fans: oh, the underage gfs duo!

|> user23: you do realize that they are not underage rt?

user73: okay but, if this is maxs gf, he should stand up for her. the amount of hate is ridiculous

|> user50: fr. and why the hate? cause she’s 18? pierre and kika have a bigger age gap. not to mention that everyone is j mad cuz she’s with max

_______________________________________________

twitter:

F1 Wags Updates @f1wagupdates • 7hr

here’s what we know about y/n y/l/n so far, potentially max verstappens new girlfriend:

y/n is 18 and lives in tennessee, and attends college at the university of tennessee. now, fans have not been happy with the recent posts on y/n and maxs instagrams.

we know that max, pierre, lando, kika, lily, carlos, and oscar follow y/n, so far. max has been liking y/n’s photos of her and this new “boyfriend.” just like y/n has liked max’s new picture with his alleged “girlfriend.”

we don’t know anything for certain yet, as nothing has been announced. we assume this is a soft launch for them. throwing hate in y/n’s comments does absolutely nothing. especially because she’s “too country” and “too young.”

|

*comments have been disabled on this tweet*

_______________________________________________

liked by: maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 99,273 others

y/n.user: ⚠️⚠️⚠️

*comments have been disabled on this post*

_______________________________________________

twitter:

User 79 @user79 • 3hr

what are your thought on it? #y/n

|

User 56 @user56 • 3hr

i think that you guys are mad for no damn reason lol. let the poor girl live, she didn’t ask for this backlash, and for what? because she’s 18, which she can’t control. because she’s country? who cares? being country is so cool. because she’s dating max and you aren’t? stop being so jealous and let them date in peace

|

Formula 1 Updates @formula1update • 3hr

her making her comments disabled definitely means she knows what’s going on, and being a wag comes with the hate. if she can’t handle it, then she doesn’t need to date max

|

Wags of F1 @f1wags • 2hr

that’s actually so stupid. she’s not dating max bc he’s famous, i’m sure. so it’s not like she wants the media, hence the soft launch. honestly, you guys are being ridiculous for no reason. there are bigger age gaps with other couples, find a real problem in the world.

|

User 37 @user37 • 1hr

here’s the real question, why aren’t you guys behind y/n like you are the rest of the wags?

|

User 61 @user61 • 59mins

the real question is actually why max hasn’t said anything yet…..

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,014,194 others

maxverstappen1: my pr manager told me to keep quiet, to keep my relationship off of social media. two weeks ago, i told my girlfriend i was sick of not being able to show her off. at the beginning of my vacation, i posted a picture of us at her house, receiving all sorts of rude comments. then, the comments continued on to her page. “why hasn’t max said anything about the hate?” i couldn’t. i still technically cant, but getting facetimes at 2am because of comments making my girlfriend cry? i’m over it. if you can’t support my relationship, you are not a fan of mine. if you’re a fan of me, you need to understand that i have a personal life, which i rarely share. and the one time i do share, it can’t be an issue. to those that have stuck up for y/n and me, thank you.

*comments have been restricted to only those the creator follows*

y/n.user: thank you, max❤️

|> maxverstappen1: only posting what i should have posted weeks ago❤️

danielricciardo: it’s weird seeing you all emotional, dude. but i hope you guys are doing well ✌️

carmenmmundt: y/n is such a beautiful soul. it’s hard to meet people so genuine and kind. you’ve got an amazing girlfriend, max.

|> maxverstappen1: i know i do, i don’t deserve her

|> y/n.user: thank you carmen🫶 max shut up❤️

*liked by creator*

pierregasly: finally i can post all the pictures i got with you two in them

carlossainz55: congrats!!

|> maxverstappen1: on what?

|> carlossainz55: i don’t know…but congrats on announcing your relationship!!

|> maxverstappen1: right…thanks

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #f1 smau #smau #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #f1 max verstappen

[marble-running]

okay preliminary thoughts:

Aisha has the best design by far. Personally I'm not to fond of all the bright colours, they clash a bit to me, but I could buy her wearing something like that, it fits the athleisure vibe most of her casual outfits went for. 8.5/10

Bloom is. fine. I like her skirt. I do think they should've put her in yellow, or at least something other than pink, since all of them sans Musa have at least something pink. Kind of reminds me of the cowgirl outfits from s8. 5/10

Flora seems to be ok. The jacket bothers me. I think I see what they were trying to do with the sleeves being like flowers, but to me it just doesn't really work, and I couldn't really picture Flora wearing it. Obligatory comment about Flora always having the same hairstyle. The dress is cute tho. 6.5/10

Musa's done pretty well. They put red back into her colour scheme and I am very grateful for that, she really stands out against the sea of pink, blue and green. Not sure what's going on with her top but maybe that's just the low quality image. Also they seem to have returned to her having shorter hair. Excellent. And the mesh gloves are a really nice touch. The whole thing reminds me of her s5 casual outfit. 7.5/10

Stella. Stella Stella Stella. Absolutely got the worst design, it's giving 2010s disney channel mean girl. Which does not bode well for Stella's characterisation. I swear if they have her be the mean girl I will be forced to throw hands. The pigtails could be a callback to her og Magic Winx hairstyle, but tbh they just make her look more childish. 2/10

Tecna isn't getting done dirty by a later season's character design? What is this??? I feel like the colour scheme could use some work (maybe a bit more purple and less bubblegum pink), but I like that they've gone back to a more cyberpunk (?) vibe. The metallic skirt is an interesting detail. Also it look like she might have a prosthetic arm? Which would be cool. It looks like they copied Mirta's hairstyle though, points off for that (Tecna will always have a shaved side to me.). 7/10

All of them except Stella seem to have the same thick belts? Aisha, Flora and Bloom all have the same skirt style (mid thigh, low waistline), and it doesn't help the overall look.

Is the Black Circle the starter villain??? Either they've been severely nerfed, or they'll be replacing the Trix as they get more powerful as the Winx do. Either way, begs the question of what happened to the Trix.

Ngl that's a change I think has potential, since Bloom is on Earth at the start. The producers have the advantage of being able to look back over the season as a whole and patch up any continuity errors caused by the later seasons, such as the lack of the Fairy Hunters in seasons 1-3 despite all the blatant fairy activity on Earth. Maybe the Black Circle don't have to replace the Trix, but they could be set up earlier on.

What are the chances we get some gay shit this time around?

#winx club #winx club season 9 #they can only go up right?

[anime-cat-with-bong]

So I decided to get that fanservice anime games bundle on Humble Bundle, and like...the fucking cowgirl samurai in a bikini games are actually good????????

I really didn't expect much going into them, but these games are so much fun. A few thoughts I had (kinda long post incoming):

The combat feels really satisfying and flows so well. Especially when it comes to things like switching weapons or characters mid combo to extend said combo.

The Xtasy/Dare Drive forms were both badass and fun to use. I really like the risk vs reward feeling that makes you consider the right time to use them.

The plot isn't really anything special or amazing, but it's got that same vibe as a super campy grindhouse B-film which I personally adore.

I honestly really liked the characters. Again these games aren't trying to have the deepest plot in the world, but the characters are fun and memorable. Like I genuinely love them and feel attached now.

I even grew to really like the character designs a lot. Like hell yeah Aya. You go rock that bikini, feather boa, and cowgirl hat while you bathe in the blood of the undead. Again it's just so campy and silly I can't help but love it.

The music goes way harder than it has any right to. "Ichiban Wa Me" has been stuck in my head and refuses to leave.

Origin in particular has amazing combat. Combos flow well, hits feel really impactful, and it's honestly just downright addicting. It also almost reminds me of the Dynasty Warriors games with how you can feel really strong and unstoppable against basic enemies, but boss fights are still challenging and require you to focus.

I definitely think Origin is the better of the two in terms of gameplay, but there's a lot I did really love about it in Z2. One of the biggest things being the chase mechanic which I would really like to see return in a future game along with the more polished gameplay that Origin has.

While I do actually like the more "realistic" look of Z2, I think I like the more stylized anime look of Origin more. It's just much more visually appealing in my opinion, and I hope they continue with it in the future. (I'm also dying to see Kagura and Saaya in that art style)

As much as I've fallen in love with these games they do have some issues worth mentioning though. Mainly the fact that they are a bit buggy.

Z2 doesn't really have any game breaking bug that I found, but sometimes camera angles can get a little wonky. Especially when you're cornered and targeting an enemy. Also hitboxes on some enemy attacks can be a little taller than they appear to be. This is most noticeable with shots from guns that will hit you even when you are jumping high above them.

Origin can take some messing with to get working properly on PC, and even once it is working it's known to crash on occasion which will corrupt your save file. I haven't run into this issue myself, but it is a thing I've seen people talk about so I think it's worth mentioning. While annoying it is possible to protect against this by just making a back up of your save file in the event it does happen. Also worth mentioning that in a few cutscenes the models can be a little shaky. It's honestly not a huge deal at all, but it is noticeable when it happens.

One other negative I will say is that the regular prices are a little high. Especially with Origin which also has bonus missions that you have to buy as DLC. These missions are only $.99 a piece, but I still feel they should have just been included in the base game. I highly recommend these games, but I do suggest grabbing them on sale.

I'm honestly glad I got that bundle if for no other reason than these games, and I definitely plan to put a lot more hours into them to master the combat fully. Needless to say I'm a fan now, and I'm actually really hoping they continue to do more with this series. Maybe with a slightly higher budget even. I see a lot of potential with these games.

#onechanbara #oneechanbara #oneechanbara origin #onechanbara z2 chaos #d3 publisher #Sorry for the rambling #I'm just kinda tipsy and really wanted to talk about these games #I honestly can't believe how much I enjoyed them #I need more

[thran-duils]

My Perfect Pet

Title: My Perfect Pet Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Boss Tony Stark. Reader disobeys Mr. Stark’s order to work in his office and learns her lesson for disobeying when he tells her to do something. Words: 2,303 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dom/sub, fingering, shameless smut, boss/employee relationship, punishment, office sex Author’s Note: I had a dream, alright? I got distracted from the other fics because of it.

Masterpost (mobile)

You walked into one of the old filing rooms where one of the old assistants was already working to scan old documents in. A whole archive had been discovered recently and they needed all of the papers uploaded onto the Stark database.

Aeisha looked up when you walked in and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I thought Abby was going to be down here with me.”

“She really wanted to be around and in Mr. Stark’s office.”

When you had arrived this morning, the head security told you where you were supposed to be. Mr. Stark gave orders at the beginning of the day where all of you were supposed to be and he had wanted you assisting him today. But Abby had complained to you, pouting. You figured it was not a big deal and told her you would take her job down in the filing room instead. She had been ecstatic.

The other girl snorted and said, “Of course she does. She’s been trying to get him to fuck her for months.”

You stammered, “W-what?”

“He has his favorites. She wants to be one of them.” She held up her phone, the newest version, and smirked, “He gives good gifts to keep us away from HR. Not that I would ever consider that.”

“You… have sex with him?”

Aeisha shrugged, “When he wants. It’s not often. In between the ladies at his parties and some other girls in the building, there’s time in between.” She saw the look on your face and gave a hearty laugh. “He’s good in bed. Don’t worry. When I said I wouldn’t consider going to HR, I mean it. That man knows how to work my pussy.”

‘That’s not what I’m worried about,” you muttered, opening one of the boxes. ‘I didn’t know I was gonna have to potentially fuck my boss if he ever gets a wild hair. Wasn’t in the job description. Sure, he’s extremely attractive – sexy – but, Jesus. That’s asking for issues if you ever wanna be in a relationship with someone and he’s still expecting it. Maybe I should be thanking Abby for taking his office today.”

Aeisha closed the scanner and shot you a curious look. “Wait… did you clear that switch with him?”

You shook your head and she rose her eyebrows, looking concerned.

“What?”’ you asked worriedly. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. We are both gonna do the same thing no matter where we are at.”

“He wanted to see you in there, Y/N. He’s very specific about his instructions.”

Your stomach did a flip flop and you asked worriedly, “Am I going to get in trouble?”

Aeisha shrugged, “Who knows? If he hasn’t sent Abby back down here in the next twenty minutes, maybe it’ll just slide.”

You did not want to lose this job; it was well paying, especially for NYC.

“I guess I’ll just… go up there if she gets put back down here,” you said slowly, thumbing through the files.

You picked some of the papers up and asked Aeisha where she was filing the paperwork before going to your own scanner. You kept tensing whenever you heard someone walk by, thinking it was Abby coming down to fetch you and make you go upstairs where Mr. Stark wanted to see you. It was customary for you to wear pencil line skirts and low-cut shirts with heels, something that had been encouraged by the hiring manager. And you learned quickly it was just the norm with all of the assistants. Thankfully, you had already had a good enough collection started with going out wear that was easily masked as office wear. Such as the bodycon dress you were wearing today, the long zipper up the back that you had had to have your roommate help you with. But now you wondered if maybe you should cut back on it a little bit, knowing what you did now.

Shaking your head, you pushed the thoughts of your mind, focusing on your work.

<><><>

It was almost 9:00pm when you were walking back from the filing room. You told your immediate supervisor that you would take a few more hours today to be able to get off early tomorrow for your appointment tomorrow afternoon a few weeks ago.

You stopped though outside Mr. Stark’s office, hearing noises coming from within. You furrowed your brow confused considering how late it was. You put your hand on the door, your ear coming closer. Someone yelped loudly inside and you threw the door open in alarm, thinking someone was getting hurt.

Upon seeing Mr. Stark being straddled by a naked woman and another kissing him beside them on the couch, you almost vomited in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I thought—goodnight!” you stammered, closing the door clumsily and rushing off.

<><><>

You were not surprised in the slightest when you arrived the next morning that Mr. Stark wanted you in his office. Reluctantly, you walked to the door and knocked. He called from inside and you took a deep breath, your heart hammering. All you could see was them on the couch last night and feel your mortification that had kept you up half the night.

He was working off to the side of his desk with a hologram table, his back to you. He was wearing a three-piece suit as usual, sans the jacket, all black.

You did not know what to say – if you should say anything too – so you just stood there awkwardly until he sensed the awkwardness too and turned around. You did not miss the slight smirk that graced his lips at the sight of you.

“Mhm, Y/N. Good morning,” he greeted you, closing the hologram and turning around to stride back to his desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” you managed to say.

He sat on the edge of the desk, running his eyes over you. You had chosen a mid-thigh dress, still showing leg but the top was long sleeved, no cleavage.

You blurted becoming uncomfortable with the silence, “I really am sorry.”

“For?” he questioned.

That caught you off guard and you stammered, “U-uh. Last night?”

“Oh, that,” Tony chuckled. “I didn’t know anyone was still on the floor. Quite a surprise to see you. Did throw the vibe off a bit, took me out of my element, really.” He cleared his throat and said, “As a matter of fact, thank you for apologizing because the sex really wasn’t as great as it was going to be if I hadn’t of seen you. Because it just reminded me of earlier in the day when I was expecting to see you when I came in the morning and I was severely annoyed when it wasn’t you. So, I was just a little irked during the whole threesome.”

He snickered seeing you at loss for words. “Well, I figure you can make it up to me. We can break in the couch. Just you and me.”

A strangled noise left your throat. “What?”

“Did I stammer? You disobeyed what I asked yesterday. I was gonna let it slide and give you a chance to make it right next time – aka this morning when I requested you again to be in here. I like my assistants in the building to follow directions specifically how I ask them. But then, you came in and interrupted when I was about to plow two of the hottest models on the market right now and threw off my vibe.”

That sounded so ridiculous, you said before you could stop yourself, “You still had sex with them.”

His eyes crinkled with his dangerous smile. “That’s cheeky. You are very determined to get me even more riled up, aren’t you? I didn’t mark you as bratty. Everyone’s got their surprises though...”

He stood up from the desk and you fought to stand your ground, your hands still folded in front of you. His eyes were searching hungrily, eyeing you up like a piece of meat.

“You’re definitely not a top rider like Vivian or Aeisha. They love sitting in my lap… reverse cowgirl…” Heat came to your cheeks as he ran his eyes over you again, lingering on your legs. A wicked smirk came to his face as he met your gaze again. “No. That’s not you. Not at all. You’re a perfect candidate for training.”

Training…?

“In fact, we can have your first lesson now. Lock the door.”

“Mr. Stark—”

He sat on the couch and said, “Do you remember me just saying that I like my assistants to listen? And follow directions just as they’re told? This is your chance to do that. So, impress me, sweetheart. Or leave the building and don’t come back. I’ll have someone mail your check or direct deposit. Whatever the hell you have set up.”

You stared at him in bewilderment, and he was staring back, a hard look in his eyes. He was not messing around. Swallowing sharply, you turned on your heel and went to the door, sliding the lock into place. You turned around, your heart thumping.

“Take your dress off. Put this blindfold on,” he ordered, reaching for the piece of cloth on the table. You had failed to notice it sitting there before; he had already had this on his mind before you had come in apparently. “And get over my knee.”

Mortified, you took a step back towards the door and his eyes flashed at the movement.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?”

You had a choice, really you did. You could find other work, but you did not want to. Sucking down a deep breath, you walked over towards him. He reached forward again and grabbed a small remote, clicking it. The large TV turned on at the end of the office and he turned on a random show, turning the volume up.

Your dress fell to your ankles and you stepped out of it. There was a fire sparked seeing the way he was looking at you, drinking you in. But it made you extremely nervous too; what if this went sideways and you lost the job anyway?

The blindfold was waiting on his thigh and you reached for it, putting it on and laid across his lap. You could feel his length through his dress pants, causing heat to come to your core already as well. You squirmed with the anticipation.

He smacked your ass hard and you gasped loudly with the sting. His hand caressed at your ass, squeezing. “Look at that nice jiggle you had just there. You’re gonna tell me you’re sorry when this is all done and take this like an obedient girl. Right?”

“Right.”

“’Right, sir’,” Tony corrected you.

“Right, sir,” you squeaked in repeat back to him.

He hummed in approval before he smacked you again, harder this time. He yanked your underwear down and ordered you to kick them off. He helped getting them around your heels and you felt him toss them. His hand was back on your ass, squeezing and admiring. Another smack landed and then another, drawing a low groan from you.

Tony’s fingers delved past your wet folds, running up and down your sex. A finger slipped in as his thumb massaged your clit, causing you to pant in need.

“Look at you, you little wanton harlot,” Tony husked, adding another finger.

He pulled his hand away and laid another hard smack across your cheeks, leaving wetness from you.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

You did what he told you and you squealed when he slapped your pussy, instinctively clenching and driving your hips forward.

“Keep them open!”

Hesitantly, you did what he said, and you cried out softly when he smacked your pussy again, repeatedly. The contact was reverberating, stimulating. He was driving you insane, loving the contact on your clit from each hit. You heard him spit and his other hand came to rub at your tight ring, wet from his spit, while the other found your nub again, circling faster now. He was working you too well, it was too much pressure. You did not want to come all over him, and you clenched again, trying to stop him from touching you.

He laid a rough smack across your ass and growled, “I told you to keep your legs open!”

Whimpering, you opened your legs again to him and he praised, “Good girl. Now, are you, sorry, pet?” You nodded and he squeezed at your nub causing you to whine sharply. “Tell me!”

“I’m sorry, sir!”

“Mhm, you’re a fast learner. Such a good girl. But what are you sorry for?” he asked, his fingers picking up speed.

“Not listening to you! For interrupting you!” you panted, gripping at the couch fabric.

“Yeah, that was really naughty of you,” Tony agreed, his knuckles brushing your sex as he hit your g spot. “Very naughty.” Your breath was quick and short, and he cooed, “Sweetheart, do you need to come?”

“Yes, sir! Please!” you begged, embarrassed simultaneously how easily you had come unraveled. How easy it was for you to fall into this role.

Tony hit your spot again and you moaned pathetically. “You can let go. Come for me.”

You cried out, shaking, coming undone around his fingers. His other hand came to your throat, holding tight as he continued to stroke you, slower now as you shook with your release. He squeezed in slightly and that only added a cherry on top to your orgasm.

Empty of him, you heard him salaciously sucking on his fingers, his other hand still flexing gently on your throat, and he hummed in approval again. “I think with some more lessons, you can shape up to my perfect pet.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark marvel fic #my shit

[deanirae]

Can you get it inside your head I’m tired of dancing?  

post 8.07 pre 8.08] crack/angst past turned unrequited deancas, implied deanbenny 2,4k [x]

The sun, also currently known as bitch, has got some serious nerve to sit where it always does, not upside down and nine miles to the left as it frankly should on this memorable fuckhat day. Where is the End of Days when it's really called for? When it should be really nigh?

Dean flips the front mirror panel down not to have to deal with at least that one disappointment. He can still see Cas's half-constipated, half-abandoned and kicked in its fluffy ass puppy face in the mercilessly annoying reflection. The obvious choice would be to not grace it with anything right now, but A – he's the one driving so his eyes can't wander off pretty far, especially in the barely sunlit grayness – and B – on his left, Sam is currently roleplaying a twelve year old girl that has her big emotional introspection accompanied by listening to Sarah McLahlan because her mean parents wouldn't let her buy ebola from the internet. Or something.

Point is, he's three hours into ostentatiously moping, trying to quietly terrorize Dean into making peace with Cas on the fly so it won't be awkward and problematique for him anymore. To Sam, Dean is just too inconvenient anytime he's inconvenient. And that, by order of nature herself, demands immediate and final stopping and ballot recounting also.

And Dean's point is, that it's not gonna happen anytime soon.

And Cas's point – assuming he’s still remotely capable of making those –  seems to be dead-set on that 50:50 face thing. And Dean regrets briefly glancing; with more or less the same intensity he regrets his whole life on the crap weather days his bones hurt harder than it should be legal.

Sam, in his hemhorroidal disturbance, reaches out to the tape deck and attempts to put anything on, but Dean feels like exactly zero of his tapes right now, so he swats Sam's hand off with a loud smack. Judging from the faces he gets for that, it's gotta be resonating in their heads a lot.

It's gonna be a long ride to Lousiana, way longer and more exhausting than the freshly puked from Purgatory one. In fact, the closer they get to Lafayette, the more tired he is and they won't start working the vetalas case until tomorrow night because apparently hanging around clubs on fridays is the new hanging downside of trees or whatever cool thing it was vetalas were doing before the rise of the all you can eat buffet of horny dicks certain they're gonna get reverse cowgirls for a two dollar drink. Or reverse cowboys. Fucking cheapskates. Some of them do have it coming. But in severe STDs, not in this.

In itself, waiting for the actual hunt really doesn't need to be a problem. It's just that Sam and Cas are fucked-bent on having it be one because—

“I said I'm going to stay with you and join you on hunts,” Cas finally snaps. „There's no need for this 'backup' as you call it, Dean.”

—Because that.

“Don't air quote it, man,” Dean mutters wearily, because of course Cas air quoted it.

“And there is absolutely no need for you to sleep in a vampire's camping truck when we have plenty of motels to pick from,” Cas rants on, zero deterred and plus ten determined, clearly not tuning into Dean's I don't wanna discuss that vibe.

Annnd because that too, yeah.

“Well I donno, I sure didn't want us to look like some sort of a hookup site for salvation army fashionistas threesome. You'll thank me later. Or you can do it now and shut up when you're done, how's that.”

“A vampire,” Sam interrupts his polished bitchface just to whine it out, which has to be peak brotherly care by his modern standards.

“You two asshats had no problem leaving me in vamp-vegas for a goddamn year,” Dean growls. “I am an adult adult and I need some me-time that isn't you time. And I'm gonna have awesome time while I'm at it. Sue me if that's a crime. Bother my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer”, says Sam.

“Aren’t you kind of a lawyer?” Dean remembers suddenly. “Or at least close enough for you two to bother each other and not me?”

“No, didn’t get to get there yet, thanks to you,” Sam mutters, also suddenly remembering the past life of his that was never meant to be.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, Dean whines. “Did I set your girlfriend on fire?”

“Fuck off.”

“I thought you missed me,” as if triggered by the word fuck, Cas drops the bomb with an evenness in his voice which hints at many things but Dean's brain is too stop-record screech to dissect them right now.

“What?” he blurts out, confused and affronted both.

“I thought you missed me,” Cas repeats, lower and harder like Dean's a stupid cat that won't spit out what it's chewing.

“Cas, I really don't wanna do this.”

“You kept praying to me to come back, Dean. After you were out of Purgatory. I heard you. Those were quite some prayers. Now you're putting yourself in real danger just to stay away from me. I don’t understand.”

Sam just stares at Dean, the always most helpful thing on the planet that he is. Thanks, Sam. Dean stares at the road. Cas stares daggers through the back of Dean's head. Poor Baby can't just leave this situation so she just keeps on rollin’. Nobody wins that day.

“That was before you told me you were lying your ass off just to kick me out last minute. Your subscription for my prayers and personal Jesus license have now expired, by the way. Like, the fuck does talking to you even do?”

“Fine!” Castiel snaps, so close to throwing his hands in the air for a grand effect but luckily thinking better of it since he's in a car that has a roof among other things. “I understand that you're angry—” he tries to start over, calmer, after a self-collecting breath.

“No, you don't,” Dean mutters.

“But you can't risk your life in the stupidest available way just to get back at me, Dean. Not after everything I've done to make sure you come back safe.”

Well at least he didn't include Sam in that „saving” part.

“You were there, man. You know Benny never double crossed me or you. What the exact fuck is your problem with him?”

A very angry squint-frown precedes the actual answer.

“You were his ticket to Earth. Now your life doesn't hold the same value.”

“Thanks, Cas. That's really swee—”

“You know that's not what I meant, Dean,” Cas growls in a tone that's clearly a final warning.

So final even Sam and his high horse must have heard since he steps in to defuse Cas.

“Cas, I'm not a fan of saying it, but Benny isn't a threat to Dean. I think the guy is kinda trying to settle,” he offers.

Dean smiles a little bit.

“See, Cas?”

“But I'm worried he might have more vamps trying to take him down because he pissed off every fang that ever knew him and then some. This is actual danger, Dean.”

“What?!” Castiel explodes in unbridled rage.

“Sam, have you ever wondered where do snitches go after they die?”

“Dean, you know I'm serious.”

“Ditches,” Dean concludes.

“When exactly were you going to tell me this?” Castiel asks coldly. “After you get killed by vampire avengers?”

“They're all taken care of, Cas. No mean jokes this time. Relax.”

“With your Winchester luck? I doubt it.”

“Oh, come on. It's not like you wouldn't bring me back even if something did happen.”

“Yes, even twice because first I would have personally destroyed you for being so reckless.”

“I know you would.”

“Guys,” Sam tries to placate, “we should all calm down and rethink how to handle it safely. It's not a good time for some jilted lovers tiff”, he begs.

Dean frowns then makes mocking faces at him to communicate that he's being a fucking douche.

“You're a fucking jilted lovers tiff,” he decides.

“We had sex, Dean,” Castiel states accusatorily.

Little does he know, he just broke Sam beyond repair. Now that the cat is out of the bag, the only thing Dean can do is to straighten some things out.

“Once,” he says, raising a finger to accentuate his point. “Cas was sure we were gonna die in the morning. We didn't, but there never was a follow up on that, so,” Dean shrugs.

“You weren't interested.”

“Says you,” Dean huffs. “I’m sorry, do you know me? Being interested in sex is in my top five pasttimes. You behaved like a brick on the other hand and I don’t know how to read concrete.”

“I don’t want to be here, good fucking God,” Sam finally yelps after a successful reboot of his brain.

Dean’s pretty sure nobody wants to be in this car right now and the only goddamn thing that could potentially make him ‘special’ right now is the fact currently Sam’s probably the only person in the Impala who has not lain his mouth on Cas’s dick. Hopefully.

Funnily enough, Cas could easily poof out without lethal injuries, but he’s dead set on staying, judging from the frown on his face that looks like a stock market crash diagram.

“I didn’t exactly see you giving me any signs.”

And set on having this conversation.

“I’m not a cat, I don’t go into heats, Cas. Can we talk about it somewhere more private? Later? Cuz everybody here wants to fucking die right now.”

“Private?” Cas asks. “If you want privacy to talk then why do you refuse to book a room with me?”

“We don’t need to share a room to have a conversation. Unless what you want it to end with is getting back on track with that last night on Earth thing we had that one time.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam cries.

“Grow up and stow your crap, Sam,” Cas says unexpectedly before Dean could even bother to serve anything in a similar note.

Dean is so thrown off his equilibrium by that he puts the car to an abrupt halt. Only because he’s too deeply wired to not crash the Impala into the first available so he won’t accidentally kill Sam.

That is, if Cas’s words haven’t obliterated him already. He glances at him, just in case. Speechless as holily commanded by the celestial – potentially horny – wrath from the back seat, but at least he’s still breathing.

“Um,” he says, because someone’s gotta, because he’s still the big brother in this demented equation. “Cas, what the fuck was that?”

“Should you, of all people, really need me to be this blunt – now that the worst affairs have been settled, we could pick up where we left off, and hopefully reach a mutual understanding regarding the nature of our relationship so that doubt no longer hinders you. If it’s still something that interests you, of course. Would that be clear and direct enough, Dean?”

Well, that was… long? Long enough citations are probably needed, but, uh, yeah. S’ gotta be addressed immediately or else.

“Cas, that was 2010 and we have 2012 now.”

“It was 2012 when you prayed to me in Purgatory and it was 2012 four days ago. Granted, your feelings towards me might be very complicated, but I still can sense and read your longing,” Cas says with a weary sigh.

“Stop smelling my longing,” Dean responds with a wearier one. “And I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“But I should explain myself to you.”

“I’m real fed up with your explanations, you know that? And we don’t got time for that, either. We need to get to Lafayette because we got a case waiting to get solved.”

“It’s because he’s waiting there for you, isn’t it,” Cas says sadly; not a question. A statement.

Dean doesn’t need to respond. Doesn’t feel like it, too.

Yeah. It’s good to actually have someone waiting for you; someone there.

Maybe it’s not that complicated, after all. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Dean starts the car. He’s got a place to go to.

The sound apparently wakes Sam from his stupor. His bright idea of the day, he turns the radio on before the awkward silence can make the universe inside of the Impala collapse on itself and on all three of them. Too late for Dean to react now; might as well get a load of the weather report.

In the back seat, Cas flicks his wrist subtly and the monotone voice sharply cuts off into static for a moment and the frequency bar moves elsewhere on its’ – or rather, Cas’s – own.  Some solitary synthesiser-made sounds drop one after another like tiny steps and Dean realizes he definitely has heard this song before at some point in his life as eighties one hit wonders ain’t no strangers to him. Oh well. Might as well not get any of the wea—

Looking from a window above, it’s like a story of love… Can you hear me?

Is he fucking kidding?!

Came back only yesterday, I’m moving farther away.... Want you near me…

“Are you fucking kidding?” Dean cries out, incredulous.

Tries to turn the radio off but it just won’t die.

All I needed was the love you gave— “You want melodramatic? I’ll give you melodramatic.” —All I needed for another day — Dean reaches out for his phone and starts typing angrily — and all I ever knew, only you.

He puts on good ol’ Fish and hopes it’s gonna be louder than Cas’s synth-pop loving. And starts driving towards where he wants to be cause he’s tired of dancing.

#dean winchester #dean deserves better #destielfanfictionnetwork #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #unrequited destiel #one sided deancas #castiel #supernatural #crack fic #crack angst #8.07 #a little slice of kevin #morillon #yazoo #songfic #deanbenny #deanny #benny lafitte #i have briefly respawned after two years #to punch deancas in the tit #this fic is entirely written for #deansrightfulangerissue

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Michelle Delacruz

“Much like a wild Mustang, this woman has an untameable heart. Wild and fierce, she carries the spirit of the West.”

Name: 

Michelle Manuela Delacruz

Born: 

August 16th, 1877 (Leo)

Notable Characteristics:

Raven hair

Black and purple color scheme

Fierce, light colored eyes

Three deep scars on the right side of her face

Extremely short tempered

Often goes by “Michelle Mustang” due to people often comparing her likeness to a wild Mustang.

Skills:

Sharpshooter

Master rider

Proficient hunter and tracker

Excellent at close combat

Weapons:

Lancaster Repeater

Carcano Rifle

Rare Shotgun

Bow and arrows

Duel wielding custom Navy Revolvers

Family:

Amelia Delacruz (mother, deceased)

Tomas Delacruz (father, deceased)

Joana Delacruz (older sister)

Natalia Delacruz (younger sister)

Background:

Michelle was born to a Mexican-American family out in New Austin. The second daughter of three, growing up in a small shack with her parents and sisters. Her mother a seamstress, her father a vaquero. Given their large family and meager earnings, they learned to live off the land.

One thing Michelle loved, however, was horses. She often was found playing with the steed her father used for work, soon learning how to ride at a young age. Since then she was hooked. When she was out on the land with her family, she would watch the wild horses run across the open expanse and dreamed to be riding amongst them one day.

Being of Latino origin caused more trouble than not for her and her family. They often experienced blatant racism, tailing them home, shouting insults and threatening to lynch or burn them. Regardless, they managed to get home safe.

Until one day, her father didn’t. At the tender age of 8, Michelle and her family found out he’d been ambushed and lynched. The gang of miscreants who performed it were whooping and jeering nearby, ready to take them next. This caused them to move out of fear, relocating themselves further North. With nothing but lint in their pockets and empty bellies, Amelia and Joana sought to find work.

Things were okay for a while. Michelle learned to hunt for the days when money was too scarce for a can of vegetables or a loaf of bread. When she was 14, her mother’s health began to decline from the constant overwork. Amelia died soon after, too poor to afford treatment.

With Joana being 16, they’d managed to secure a household when they struck a deal with a wealthy man, having jobs in exchange for three hot meals and a roof over their heads. Before then, Michelle had never seen a home so extravagant. She became excited when she learned this man had a barn full of horses. She became a stable hand and rode once again, quickly learning how to break and train a horse from the ground up and often assisted in foal deliveries.

After two years, this paradise had come to an end. The man had lost his wealth, which meant having to sell his property and thus, putting the three out on the streets again. None of them could find a steady job, and moved around a lot to find work. It wasn’t until Michelle came across a bounty board in a small town, offering a decent amount of cash for the capture of a criminal she immediately recognized as one of her father’s killers.

Even though Michelle had next to nothing; a worn lasso and a rusty Cattleman revolver, she sought out this man. Using her hunting skills to track him down, she found him in a small camp in West Elizabeth. He had a few guards that she’d taken out without much of a struggle. She eventually cornered him, watching cower and beg for mercy. Blinded by anger, she held the revolver to his head and demanded he look her in the eye. He did, and she watched the realization bloom on his face when he realized who she was. Oh how she wanted to kill him, her finger hovering over the trigger. An inner turmoil of morality burned within her, knowing killing him outright would not bring her father back. She proceeded to shoot him in the leg before tying him up. She then took one of the dead gang member’s horses and rode back, begrudgingly turning him in, but was the first one in line to see him hang.

Afterward, bounty hunting seemed to become a calling for her. Not only had she found each one of her father’s killers, she was able to save enough money to buy a small home for her and her sisters, all the while making a name for herself. At age 21 and having many notches on her belt, she sought to hit a big score: Roxanne, aka “Death Rider” ( @r0xy-w0lf​ ) and began to track the famous outlaw down.

After quite some time, Michelle eventually found her, intent on capturing and turning her in. However, something seemed...different. Roxy gave a vibe that contrasted from others she’d faced, and Michelle found familiarity in her. They sat and talked, with Roxy eventually offering her a place in her gang. Michelle wasn’t keen at first, turned off by the idea of becoming a part of something she’d been hunting down for years. However, Michelle was now alone after her sisters had found lives of their own, and she missed the feeling of close family.

She’s now a part of the Death Squad, who welcomed her with open arms. She’s still trying to figure out the ropes but finds herself fitting more and more each passing day.

Extra:

If there’s one thing Michelle hates, it’s bullies. Facing much prejudice and racism throughout her life have caused her to get into plenty of fights. She will not hesitate to swing a fist.

She was in fact known to hold secret fights as a teenager to pull in extra cash.

She will also stand up for anyone who can’t defend themselves within reason.

She can and will drink you under the table.

When she was younger, she would try to befriend the wild horses by spending time at a distance from a herd that lived not too far from her home. As they grew more comfortable with her presence, she would come up and feed them treats.

She supposedly has German roots from her father’s side, but this was never confirmed.

Very few people know she was a mother. Having entered a relationship with a childhood friend at the age of 18, putting a potentially permanent pause on her dangerous lifestyle with hopes to settle down. She gave birth to a sickly baby, who died just days later. This experience hardened Michelle, as well as caused an irreparable rift in between her and her lover. She often thinks about them both, but doesn’t consider attempting to settle down again.

Her baby is buried out in New Austin, in a place that only she knows. She will visit whenever she’s in the area, and on the anniversary of his death.

The scars on her face were received early in her bounty hunting career, caught in a melee fight with her target when she was momentarily incapacitated by a guard. The outlaw had gotten a few slices in before she was able to break free.

She visits Joana and Natalia as often as she can.

She’s come in brief contact with the Van der Linde gang in pursuit of their bounties, but they were too large and powerful for her to take alone. She found respect in their morals of helping people who need it. She sometimes will chat if she runs into one of them. She’ll often steal Arthur’s hat for a day or so without his knowledge and replace it when he’s not looking.

Horses:

“I prefer stallions to mares. Mares are too much like me, that’s why I don’t trust ‘em.” - Michelle

Dante: Bay Frame Overo Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s main mount. A stallion with a kind eye and sweet disposition that she found charming. Easily her fastest horse, and by far her best.

Santiago: Bay Brindle Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s second horse. She hadn’t been looking for another horse, until his unusual brindle coating caught her eye. She admired how sturdy he was, and certainly built to handle somewhat heftier work and hunts.

Rojas: Chestnut Arabian Stallion

Michelle’s longest held mount. She's not terribly fond of Arabians and their skiddish demeanor. Rojas however, was an exception. One of the colts she helped birth in her younger days, she bonded with him during her two years as a stable hand and broke him herself. After he was sold, she tracked him down when she had the money and bought him back.

---

@theunholyoutlaw​ @verai-marcel​ @eddesceulla​

So, little known fact here for y’all: Michelle is an old character from another fandom that I decided to resurrect for the RDR universe, since in her original setting, she was also a cowgirl (a cowgirl with powers and a ghost horse lmao)

#Michelle Delacruz #rdo #red dead online #red dead OC #Death Squad

[inevitable-anna]

Escape The Night S4X01 Spoilers

I’m so sorry that this took so long! I accidentally deleted my draft, when I went to post it!

Hopefully, this should have a ‘keep reading’ thing so I don’t spoil the show for anyone.

[[MORE]]

I love the flashback of the first three seasons in the beginning! And uggghh Colleen's screams from the maiden still give me chills.

Yass that's my gal Liza "I'll come back for you" yes I love my explorer gal so much, I hope we see more of he- oh wait, she's dead. I do have some questions about her, so I may put them in another post if you are interested?

I don't trust the SAE. They still seem sketchy to me?

Everyone in the fandom had really cool and interesting theories about Bretman and why he was in this season. Then he finally shows up and it turns out Nikita (who looks great!) invited him and told him there'd be cute boys.

"what about me? I did cancel my livestream for this" Mat I love you.

The Collector looks awesome and she has a jewelled key! The medusa monster with her looks great too!

Anyone else slightly creeped out that the guests are wearing different outfits to the ones they died in? Did the Collector spend time picking out a new role and outfit for each guest? Did she make her lieutenants have a fashion show for her to see what outfits she liked? Did she have folders on potential roles and outfit ideas? I need answers here!

MY FAVOURITE GAL IS BACK!!! RO'S BACK! "She's dead, I'm dead, so I'm dead... so where am I?" I love her so much! Please let her escape this time!

I love Gabbie immediately asking questions, like 'the last thing I remember is having my heart ripped out and dying... so is everyone here dead? Let me check'.

"You literally pushed me into the box, Ro!" "We-well, everybody did"

"Umm... Alex, maybe "you know I killed both of you, right?" isn't the best thing to say at the moment?

I love Destorm and Gabbie immediately teaming up again, it's nice that they still have each other's backs!

I can't really see who says "did you kill me?" (Sounds a bit like Tana?) And who responded with "I thought you died with Vine?" But I love it so much.

"Hugs and kisses"? Really, Joey? "I do not like this" well! They probably didn't enjoy dying!

Anyone else slightly curious as to why Tana dressed like a cowgirl if her role is the 'Pin-Up Girl?' Am I being dumb?

JUSTINE! You have other things to worry about then 'residuals'! Do the smart thing, okay? get your residuals after/if you escape! Duh!

"You can't double die" are you sure about that, Destorm? I mean, this is 'Escape The Night' where the only consequence is death, even when you've already died!

"Nikita said there was going to be cute boys" "where?" Gabbie!

I'm loving Gabbie taking charge! "Okay, everyone stop fighting, I'm freezing. I look amazing but let's figure this out" anyone else get major "I'm hungry!" vibes from S2?

*guards appear* "I'm thinking maybe we are in heaven." Not the time Ro!

My man! Alex! He went off on that guard! He's come along way from "nobody was able to escape their deaths so I'm not going to try and fight mine" to attacking a guard! I mean, he lost the fight but he tried!

"The Enforcer don't run. I strut" yass, Destorm!

The Sorceress is back!! My favourite villain! "Last time we met, we killed each other, shall we do it again?" This is why the Sorceress is my favourite villain! She's so sassy!

Mortimer is back! Not sure if I trust him though?

"Mortimer is my man from when I was still alive, however somehow since I died, I have gotten married and had a baby" I laughed so hard at this because I didn't expect it at all!

Mortimer asking "Colleen, are you with Janet" is so sad! Though in the show, did he call her Janet or mum? Because isn't it slightly strange to refer to his mum as Janet? I don't know, I'm probably reading into this too much?

Tana doesn't remember what the Sorceress looks like? Gabbie's reply is brilliant! "She killed you, me and Destorm."

"She killed Alex, huh? I mean, you tell me, I was dead"

The Collector kept the Sorceress in her study?

The Sorceress teasing Joey with the onyx trinket is everything I needed in life!

Joey calling out the Sorceress for having a giant portrait of herself in her mansion after she calls the Collector a "pretentious b*tch" for having one is amazing!

"Isn't she a copycat?" Can the Sorceress stay with the group the whole season and make sassy comments, please?

"She wanna be you so bad" "Mm-hmm"

Okay, I have said this a few times already but I'll say it again, 'final death' SERIOUSLY?

"I like know I've done a lot of bad stuff and I might go to hell but I really didn't think it would be this early in life" and "I have been told quite a few times that there is a special place in hell for me, so, I don't think it will be too bad" are moods.

I find Destorm and Tim complaining about the others following the Sorceress really funny.

I laughed so hard at "I always learned never to trust strange, white women".

Tim attacking the air and saying "you gotta come around the corner like this" is really funny to me.

"Thanks for the help" Colleen, I can taste the sarcasm there.

I like that Alex understands that having a grudge against Joey is slowing them down, otherwise they would still be stuck in there for their 'final deaths' come morning.

20:59 isn't the painting that Tana takes down from the Sorceress' mansion in S2X04?

Destorm says he doesn't know who to trust so he's taking the lead, to me, that sounds like a logical thing to do?

"Now more shirtless men with knives are running at me, what is going on?" Well, you did agreed to come back for S4, Tana!

22:06 IT'S AN EGYPTIAN RUBIX CUBE!

I wasn't sure what to think when Bretman was announced for the S4 cast, but now he's here, I actually really like him! He's funny and I like that he sincerely thanks Justine for giving him the egg/eye thing. I look forward to seeing more of him in the show!

It's nice that Destorm is realising that Tana is more than a pretty face, now for the rest of the S2 group to realise that. It was one of the things that really annoyed me in S2 that they kept saying that Tana wasn't helping but when she offered to do something, the group wouldn't let her do it.

"Originally I was here on a rescue mission, but I feel like I just made things worse." Well, you haven't really rescued anyone yet? I mean, yes the guests are free from the exhibits but they're still trapped in the museum.

Joey, I agree with Tim! Make the guards dab or even better... make them twerk!

"Can they tell us where to find some food?" "I have breast milk" I choked.

I was not expecting the Sorceress to stab that guard! I mean, I guessed that the Sorceress would still be evil but I hope she sticks with the group for a little longer, purely because she's my favourite!

"This is something. A clue." The way Ro says clue is so cute and reminds me of 'Scooby Doo' for some reason?

"Most frightening exhibit yet" mark me down as terrified and intrigued!

Again, 'FINAL DEATHS' COME ON!

"It's fine, the SAE will get here before we even have to do any of that." Are you sure about that, Joey? Really sure? 100% sure? Absolutely, positively 100% sure?

Ro is so happy when Destorm tells the group about door. "Look at you being a team player" I would like to see them interact more, I feel like they would have an interesting dynamic.

"I think we just opened the Egyptian exhibit" really, Alex? I thought this was the Tudor exhibit! Because the Tudors love of Egyptian hieroglyphics is very well known!

Tana is pulling her weight and I love how the S2 group are like 'what? How?'.

The prosthetic makeup on the Pharaoh is amazing! He looks great!

"This beef jerky looking ass b*tch" Bretman is great!

At the end when the 'this season' bit plays, I slowed it down and watched it and spotted a Minotaur! Which will be awesome as I love Greek mythology!

Okay, so if you watch the 'this season' section, right at the end, you can see Benjamin/The Man With No Name so has the Collector collected previous lieutenants?

Again, I’m sorry that I didn’t get to post this yesterday because I was stupid and accidentally deleted my draft!

I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear about anything you noticed during the episode or any questions! If you like this, I may be able to try and do one for ep2 as well.

Have a nice day!

#escape the night spoilers #escape the night all stars #escape the night 4 #escape the night

[biofunmy]

Vegas as a Literary Hub? You Bet.

LAS VEGAS — On a recent very warm Saturday afternoon, just a few blocks northeast of a string of ramshackle chapels offering Elvis-themed weddings on Las Vegas Boulevard, the novelist Tommy Orange was discussing the critical reception given to “There There,” his polyphonic novel about contemporary Native Americans.

Orange was speaking at the third annual Believer Festival, three days of performances, panels and parties that are part of a burgeoning literary scene here. As high-low splits go, it is a tough scene to beat.

With irregular regularity, various places in the United States that are not the Big Obvious Centers start throwing off a more concentrated number of cultural sparks: Austin, Tex.; Seattle; Chapel Hill, N.C.; Atlanta. Las Vegas might not seem the most obvious place to join this list. The Strip is still, and ever shall be, as Joan Didion described it, “bizarre and beautiful in its venality and in its devotion to immediate gratification.” But a recent infusion of money, people and The Believer, a literary magazine, have kindled an already present bookish community into a steadier flame.

The hub of this resurgence (or, to coin a term, surgence) is the Black Mountain Institute, a literary center that operates out of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. When Joshua Wolf Shenk was named the executive and artistic director of the institute in 2015 — after the retirement of Carol Harter, who founded B.M.I. in 2006 — he was not planning to also become the editor in chief of a magazine. But soon after beginning his tenure, Shenk talked to The Believer, then published by McSweeney’s and based in San Francisco, about cooperating on a live event in Vegas.

Those talks grew into discussions about B.M.I. buying the magazine, which was in a dormant phase as it tried to find a viable long-term financial model. A deal was finalized in early 2017.

Shenk said that defying what outsiders expect from Vegas was no longer what interested him most, but he and others continually admit that the juxtapositions can be hard to ignore. And one person’s very conscious fight against stereotypes has done much to fund the growth.

Beverly Rogers, a patron saint of the arts in Vegas, moved to the area from outside Philadelphia when she was 12. Now 68, and a serious book collector, she remains motivated by the view others have of her longtime home.

“Since I was a kid, I had been sick of going back to my family and friends and have them make some snide remarks about living in Las Vegas, how there’s nothing intellectual going on here,” Rogers said. “I can’t tell you how many insults I suffered over the years. So I’ve always had what I call a desire to raise the cultural barometer of Las Vegas.”

The Rogers Foundation, which focuses on arts and education, pledged $10 million to B.M.I. in 2013. Not long after Rogers’s husband, Jim, an attorney and television station owner, died in 2014, the foundation pledged another $20 million to the institute, which now officially bears Rogers’s and Harter’s names.

“Everyone’s head is so full with the stereotype that I don’t think there’s any room for anything else,” Shenk said of Vegas. “There’s no substitute for coming here. You have to move through the environment to get a sense of what it’s actually like.”

The festival heavily emphasizes environment, staging its events against backdrops that are away from the Strip but still quintessentially Vegas — in both artificial and natural senses. The opening night, with readings by Kiese Laymon, Hanif Abdurraqib, Natalie Diaz and others, was held at the Neon Museum’s Ne10 Studio, a dark warehouse space strewn with classic signs. Near the entrance, a larger-than-life reclining cowgirl kicked her blazing boot into the air. On Friday night, just outside the city, readers performed in Red Rock Canyon at sunset, holding their own in a contest for attention with the glowing mountains.

Both the lineup of talent and the crowds at the festival reflected a city that, it is often said, is what 21st-century America looks like.

“The stereotype of Vegas is all white dudes swinging into the Strip and treating the city as a plaything for their imaginations,” Shenk said. “But the real city is incredibly diverse.”

Talk to a dozen people in Vegas, and 13 of them will tell you that U.N.L.V. is the most ethnically diverse campus in the country, as ranked by U.S. News & World Report. (Some will quickly acknowledge that, technically, the school is tied with Rutgers.)

The journalist Amanda Fortini has spent the better part of four years in Vegas, as a visiting lecturer at U.N.L.V. and, for the past few months, a B.M.I. fellow.

“There’s one misperception that Las Vegas is the Strip, that they’re an equivalent thing,” Fortini said. “But another misperception is that there’s this organic, local community wholly separate from the Strip — that there’s no cross-pollination between the two.”

For Justin Favela, a Vegas-born artist who appeared at this year’s festival, the city’s outsize dimensions help to spur his vision. “Most of my work is inspired by Las Vegas,” he said. “The colors that I use; the scale. I’m not afraid to make giant, obnoxious things that take up space and draw attention.”

The Believer is not an outsize magazine — its average issue sells 6,000 copies, including paid subscribers and in bookstores — but it is an influential and well-branded one. Sara Ortiz, the program manager for the magazine and B.M.I., moved to Vegas not long after she had returned to her hometown, Austin, from New York. Certain she was back in Texas for good, she said she was lured away in large part by the “name recognition” of the magazine.

Now, in addition to planning the festival, Ortiz coordinates about 50 events year-round for B.M.I. and oversees the institute’s many fellowships, including its City of Asylum program, which hosts writers who face censorship, and sometimes violence directed at them, in their home countries. The Egyptian journalist and novelist Ahmed Naji recently began his term as the City of Asylum fellow, and will be in Vegas for at least two years.

The final day of this year’s festival featured a series of signings and talks, including the interview with Orange, at The Lucy, a recently opened mixed-use complex owned by the Rogers Foundation that serves as a home for the B.M.I. crowd.

On ground level at the complex is The Writer’s Block, a store that bumped its stock from about 5,000 books at a previous location to about 20,000 in the current one. On the upper floors are apartments for B.M.I. fellows and any Believer editors who live outside Vegas full-time but spend stretches there to work on the magazine.

When Scott Seeley and his husband, Drew Cohen, who own and run The Writer’s Block, were first thinking of where to relocate from New York in 2013, Vegas “was not even on the radar,” Seeley said.

Seeley is an artist who designed two visually distinctive stores for McSweeney’s in Park Slope. For 10 years, he also ran 826NYC, the nonprofit founded by Dave Eggers that offers free creative-writing programs to children. In Vegas, Seeley has started his own program, Codex, for students from ages 5 to 18.

It is an irony not lost on him that, having been at ground zero of the McSweeney’s-flavored Brooklyn moment at the start of this century, he moved to the desert for a change of pace — only to have The Believer move in upstairs.

But he is happy to have the magazine around, and the scene finding him again has helped his business in more ways than one. “Publishers had been reticent to send authors to Vegas because books never sold,” Seeley said. “The Believer coming here legitimized this city in the eyes of the machine out there.”

So far, any new attention from the machine has not changed the fundamental tone of the place.

When the comedian and musician Reggie Watts closed the Red Rock Canyon event with a riotous set that included him adopting the persona of a pretentious poet, there was a ripple of surprise and almost relief that someone was having such unabashed fun. The local participants and audience members at the festival betrayed few pretensions, but there was an unquestionably sincere vibe throughout the weekend.

“My theory is that everything attracts its shadow,” Shenk said, “and that quite unconsciously, people who live in Las Vegas have developed a way of being that is in 180-degree contrast to the stereotypes of their city. It’s a relentlessly earnest, authentic, sometimes painfully earnest place. It’s not an ironic place. People are not commenting on the comment.”

In this way, the city is a perfect match for The Believer. In a long essay, much talked about at the time, that anchored its debut issue in 2003, Heidi Julavits wrote: “Snark is a reflexive disorder, whether those who employ it realize it or not,” and that the real questions we need to ask are: “What do you believe in? What do you care about?” These are questions that permeated this year’s festival, which had the theme of “La Frontera,” or the border, and featured several readings and conversations revolving around issues of social justice and the history of oppressed peoples.

“Thank you, believers,” the author Lolita Hernandez said as she took the stage at Red Rock Canyon, “for keeping believing.”

So, how to keep on keeping the faith? “We’re in many ways still a baby festival,” Ortiz said. “We’ve learned that we really do well with an intimate crowd. I don’t ever want us to get on the scale of something crazy-large.”

Shenk said the festival was thinking about “how to expand without losing the thing that people want us to expand.”

The long-term future of the whole scene depends on not just artists, but on much more fundamental things — like water. “If Lake Mead holds up, we can all be here long term,” Fortini said, with a dark laugh.

Some of the parched city’s other potential drawbacks are less apocalyptic in scale. The author Lesley Nneka Arimah, a fellow at B.M.I. this spring, said she was trying to figure out where she would live next. And while she has enjoyed her time in Vegas, there are features she could do without. “Tarantula season is July,” she said. “I’ve been foolishly soliciting tarantula stories from people.”

But the overall sense is of a creative community with plenty of room left in its growth spurt. More than one person compared Vegas to the Wild West, not for its zaniness or licentiousness, but because its culture’s clay is still wet.

“The first Believer Festival, at the first activity, I started to cry,” Rogers said. “I realized it was because I didn’t know anyone. Everyone there was young. I’m in this crowd, I see the same people all the time. These were people who were really interested in what was going on, and I didn’t know them.”

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