#route 66 hat

[thunderrode]

We are your stop for all things #Route66!! We carry Route 66 patches, pins, stickers, t-shirts, signs, earrings, magnets, hats, bandanas, license plates, tubes, flags, and more!

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[goldendiie]

throwing my first College Halloween Party (tm) on friday and i’m dressing as slutty lightning mcqueen. very on-brand for me.

#i have a drink cosy that says ‘route 66’ on it. so that magically works for my costume. #AND i have a cowboy hat that i put a rust eze sticker on #and ofc lightning bolt jewelry and all that #i’m gonna look SO good

[ineffableigh]

Thinking a lot about some memory parallels in season two...

About how everyone in Soho is dressed VERY ANACHRONISTICALLY, but not at all coordinated with each other. Clothes look pristine, brand new, unsullied, unworn. Caricatures of humans from the 40s, 70s, 90s, 2000s. Like an oversimplified idea of what Normal Humans look like.

Like uhhh excuse you white fur coat, leopard print skirt and platform shoes? Weird BRIGHT FUCKING YELLOW shirt, a flowy vest and leather pants? 70s crochet sweater with brown pants, crimped hair and chunky heels?

Rosie the Riveter This lady (Rosie is a different extra!) over here is either wearing big flowy skirts or actual mechanic's overalls like the war posters. She's EVERYWHERE throughout the season:

Rainbow tie dye, big hat, overcoat with pinback buttons? Like the guys in the cemetery?

Lady why are you fully lurking behind a pillar and staring at the Hamm Hams

What's my point? Point is... point is...

Gabriel's memories are the same.

RUSSIA - big hammer and sickle neon sign outside, two guys in back playing chess, one with a big bushy beard and the other a flat cap. Background music sounds like traditional/folk Russian music played on a balalaika, but playback on a ratty old stereo.

USA - Route 66 sign, hubcaps, money wallpaper, budweiser neon sign, bar/pool table/pool cues, American flags fluttering in the wind outside, 50s style radio on the shelf, SAME TWO GUYS IN BACK but now playing cards, and the one on the right has a baseball cap instead. And I don't wanna be like "what modern bar would be playing Buddy Holly on the radio" but... after hearing the background music in the Russian cafe, that is a CHOICE.

Hell, check out Not-Billie-Piper back here and her GIANT 50s up-do:

SAME THING AT THE RESURRECTIONIST, YEAH? ALL THE SONGS ON THE JUKEBOX ARE SCOTTISH OR PERTAINING TO SCOTLAND. "Letter from america" by the PRoclaimers starts playing but it was released in fucking 1987

And of course we know this pub is COVERED in Pressburger references, which we know carry way more meaning than simple fun cameos or whatever. Barring that, this is the Scottishest-Pub-est-looking-pub I've ever fucking seen, and it's SO CLEAN.

A fly IN the movie playing on the screen while we watch Gabriel's memories being returned to him from the fly he receives in this memory? More likely than you think (I can't find the movie name! Not in the X-Ray apparently)...

Anyway all that to say I think the show is trying to tell us SOMETHING is wrong the entire season. There's evidence shit's out of order, everything is WEIRD and high saturation, even people's makeup (Crowley's bloody orange half the time), and it all feels Extremely Set up...

OR poorly remembered.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #my brain hurts #IneffabLeigh's Meta Tag

[thatbanditqueen]

George's Garage

An Elvis Presley one-shot response to the prompt: How are we going to solve this problem?

Summary: Elvis and the Memphis Mafia are driving back to Hollywood from Memphis to shoot Kissin' Cousins, when the car breaks down on Route 66. Luckily they are not too far from George's garage and her skilled, lady mechanic fingers.

Warnings: 18+ DNI, E to L (ish), fellatio, swearing, implied drug use. Also some minor historical inaccuracies. ALL THE TYPOS. Written in haste under pressure. Sort of.

Word Count: Yeah, this one got away from me.... 7.5 K

Saturday, October 5, 1963

They were an hour away from Needles, and the crisp, hot midday air blew over Billy’s face as as he steadied his arm on the white convertible. He turned his eyes to the burnt desert, taking in the cacti and shrubbery below a clear, powder blue sky. The Yucca trees stood tall, like hunched warriors in the distance, bent over and ready to descend on Elvis’ caravan racing along the highway. The radio fizzled and Billy turned to watch Elvis roll the dial knob between his fingers until he got reception and began singing along to Bobby Vinton’s latest hit, “Blue Velvet,” in an offkey high voice, laughing at himself. Billy forced a smile and twisted awkwardly in his seat, the blue leather creaked under him, and he wished he was back in Memphis eating dinner with Jo.  He’d been riding shotgun the last four days ago. His butt ached and he was struggling to stay on the same mental frequency as his cousin, who had started the trip with the same high enthusiasm he usually had for the road. However, the closer they got to Hollywood, the more erratic Elvis’ mood had become. He had ranged from being introspective and engaging, talking softly and seriously about plans to expand Graceland, to despondent rants about how nice it was to be with the guys away from women. Billy assumed this specifically referred to one woman in particular and her persistent requests to come to Los Angeles with them. Then there had been the violent tantrums about "that embarrassin,' sorry-ass excuse for a” movie they were driving to LA to shoot, every time Joe brought up the fact that they were supposed to be in LA already. Elvis began halting their progress even more after the fight with Joe. There were now impromptu football games on the side of the road several times a day, meals had become long, leisurely affairs and each stop along the way involved intense pranks. Billy had rings of black shoe shine around his eyes for the better part of yesterday after looking though a pair of Elvis’ binoculars. Though he'd had been glad to see Elvis smile, even if it was at his expense.

The Buick drove on, and Billy watched Elvis adjust the black yachting hat on his head.

“Man oh man, Joe says we’re ‘posed to film all the Great Smoky scenes in Big Bear. Big Bear! Can ya believe it? Ain’t no one gonna believe those scraggly ass sorry California ant hills are the Blue Ridge mountains. I can tell you that, man. I can tell you that.”

Billy tightened his smile and contemplated the right thing to say.

“I said, can ya believe that?” Elvis jabbed Billy expectantly. “With me, ME, of all people, goddammit. Those Hollywood jackasses ain’t ever even been to Tennessee and they want me to go round chasin’ after my cousin’s coochie like some inbred hillbilly pretendin’ Big Bear is goddamn Cades Cove.”

“You know ain’t no one looking at the background EP, specially not with you bein’ all handsome, uh, up der on the screen. Singing the way you do. With all those beautiful girls. Shouldn't worry so much, everything is gonna be good.”

Elvis looked ahead, grunting, while Billy turned his head around to look back and nod at Alan driving the motor home behind them, seemingly laughing and smoking a cigar with Red, Sonny and Joe. Alan tipped his head with a wink, and Billy rolled his eyes, jarred from his backwards view by the slap of Elvis’ hand.

“Hey, man, hey, hand me my toiletries, huh Billum?”

Billy nodded with a “Sure,” and reached his hand back along the floor of the back seat. Not finding it through touch, Billy flipped around and  began to panic, because Billy was an observant man. He knew what Elvis’ black travel case full of pills looked like. And as he stared down at the blue carpeted floor beneath him he did not see it there. He also knew that when he reported this to Elvis he was going to regret coming on this trip more than he already did. So he squirmed, letting the expensice, custom blue leather squeak under him as he shifted from side-to-side, hesitating to meet Elvis’ eyes in the rear view mirror. Ten minutes later, Billy was leaning against the side of the RV smoking in Sonny’s shadow and staring silently at Joe and Red while Elvis stomped up and down the motor home screeching at Alan.

“Whatcha mean you ain’t seen it? Ya hog-eared fat, useless sonabitch. I - I -I.” They heard the sound of trampling feet stop. “Goddamit, I ‘member vividly handin’ it to you, and telling you ta put in the back seat of the car.”

They could hear Alan’s pitiful words stammer out through the walls. “I musta -  musta put it down in the bathroom at that rest stop.”

“I musta put it down in the bathroom in that rest stop!” Elvis high vibrato mimicking Alan reverberated through the metal, and Billy saw Red shoot Sonny a knowing look as they listened. “Well you’re the one whose gonna ‘splain ta Billy why he and I are turnin’ around and going back.”

The mood in the car was decidedly different three hours later as the Buick sped over the same stretch of pavement flying through the Yucca Valley and past Needles. Billy was still in the convertible, trying to think of any reasonable excuse why he needed to be in the RV with the others. Now he sat quietly, nodding occasionally as Elvis muttered angrily to himself, his black toiletry case neatly tucked next to Billy’s feet in the car cabin. Billy started planning out how he would explain why Joe should be driving with Elvis to go over the upcoming filming schedule, and he planned to suggest this when they eventually caught up to the others. He wondered if the guys were already at the motel in Barstow,  but did not have long to contemplate his escape from these close quarters with Elvis before a milky white cloud of smoke exploded out of the engine in front of them and he found himself clutching the seat for dear life as Elvis guided the sputtering Buick to the side of the road.

Billy was once again leaning against a car smoking. He was not exactly sure where they were, somewhere between  between Needles and Barstow, he figured. However, the desire to know precisely where they were was secondary to his innate desire to not be there at all. Where ever here actually was. Billy watched a lizard crawl over the warm road, then scamper off at the sound of Elvis shrill high pitched screams. Billy had never wished more fervently that he was a lizard, or anything else at all, actually, then in that moment as he looked at the reptile slither off the road away from the sound of Elvis kicking the front tire, his voice ringing out through the stillness of the Mojave desert at sunset.

“GODDDAMMIT! God fucking  dammit. GOD. DAMN. IT.”

Billy wiped the sweat off his forehead and squinting at what looked like a cluster of buildings further along on the horizon.

************************************************************************

The office counter fan pushed cool air on George and blew her dark brown curls into her face. She tucked them back behind her ear as she stared down at her crossword puzzle and bobbed a pencil against her lip in contemplation, sucking it momentarily.

“Five letter word for neckwear. Hmmm.”

Frustrated, she moved on to the next across word clue, pausing as her eyes roamed over the stack of paperwork she was supposed to be working on.

“Ugh, c’mon, just knock out these orders and then you can close up. It’s almost 6.”

Nodding to the sound of her own voice, George had just resolved to set aside the crossword puzzle when the front door bell startled her and she looked up to see two men stagger into the office, panting and laughing.

The one in front had on a black yachting hat, and his head was down as he tucked his shirt in. There across his neck was a jaunty, white decorative scarf held by a golden cravat.

“Ascot!” Georgie exclaimed, grabbing her pencil and excitedly filling in 5 Across. But her smile quickly faded as she looked up to see the quizzical face of Elvis Presley looking back.

“Huh, yeah, uh huh.” He pushed his gold cravat up his very short, very shiny, very expensive white silk ascot tie.

 Elvis’ face went from confused to confident as he steadied himself, placing his thumbs in his belt loops, and sauntering up to the counter to lay his hand down. He moved it over George’s hand in an instantly familiar and somewhat intensely intimate manner.  George was not prepared for the sweaty, pit stained lanky mass of charisma now rubbing his thumb along side the pinky of her left hand.

“Like that, huh, darlin?” Elvis winked, and tugged at the edge of the ascot as he purred. “Listen, is your boss around?”

George looked down at her hand, Elvis’ forwardness had shocked her and she recoiled into herself for a moment before pulling her hand away. She glanced at the short, skinny guy behind him who was avoiding her gaze and suddenly taking an intense interest in the photos hanging on the office wall.

It had been almost ten years since he first began performing, yet, watching women's awestruck expressions still gave Elvis a warm rush and made him feel special. Elvis winked at George, and decided to try and make her feel comfortable.

He smiled shyly and looked down, grasping her hand back up between his.

“Shhh, s’ok , honey, it's ok, now."

He sucked in a deep breath, chuckling.

"I, uh, I really would rather ya treated me like a normal person. No need to get flustered.”

He turned his blue eyes back up to her and waggled his eyebrows.

“So, uh, now, c’mon honey, can you grab ya boss, hmmm? We’re in need of help somethin' awful.”

“Well, honey,” George collected her self, and pulled her hand back. Again. She looked Elvis in the eyes, glancing back at his ascot for a moment. What a pointless, ridiculous, pompous accessory. “I assure you I am not flustered.”

“Well, uh, good, then. I reckon that ya can hop to it, woman, go get ya boss.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully, tilting his head to the side door that led to the garage. “We need ta get back on tha - “

Billy squinted and looked closer at one of the photos, and turned to interrupt his cousin.

“Hey, EP, I th-th-th —”

“Shhh, Billy, just a second.”

George pursed her lips and then smiled tightly.

“Why don’t you tell me what brings you guys in tonight?”

Elvis grinned at her, the length of his chin extended as the right side of his mouth crooked up in another smile and exposed his teeth. He patted the top of her hand. Again. George flinched back. Again.

“Hmm, I’d love to spend all night talking cars with ya sugar.”

Elvis looked back at Billy, who immediately chuckled nervously.

“But,uh, well, we got an urgent situation. Now,  be a good girl and go run an get the mechanic.”

Billy stepped closer to try whisper in Elvis’ ear, but he shushed him as George narrowed her eyes, straightening her body so she sat taller above the counter, almost even with Elvis’ gaze.  This did not seem to deter Elvis’ from leaning closer into her personal space, his face now just inches above hers.

Lips quirking into a tight, polite exaggerated smile, George shook her head as she reclaimed her hand. Again. How did he do it? She hadn’t even noticed it was on her.

“I’m sorry boys.” She put on an exaggerated pout. “The boss decided not take anymore jobs today. We close in five minutes anyway —”

“Now, now, now, wait just a goddamn minute. What do you expect us to do?”

Elvis’s nostrils flared out, and he clenched his fists, his voice rising into a growl. All that charm was now replaced by disbelief as he stepped back and crossed his arms.

 “Nah, uh uh, we ain’t leavin’ til you take your sweet little behind and go find who ever, ever, who ever runs this place.” He slammed his fist on the counter to show that he meant business.

For the twentieth time today, Billy looked down into the ground and wished he was in Memphis.

Nonplussed, George pulled her mouth into an even wider smile.

“Listen, Barstow’s an hour away, by car. Not sure how long it would take you to walk.”

She strolled around toward the swinging door that led to the garage.

“We open at 8 a.m. tomorrow.”

She turned to go back to the workshop, pausing at the whine in Elvis’ voice.

“Now, now, uh uh. We ain’t leavin’ til we talk to your boss.”

Georgie raised her eyebrow and tilted her head.

“Suit yourself.”

She went into the shop and began pulling down the service bay doors that opened up to parking lot.

After the door swung shut, Billy pulled on Elvis’ shirt.

“Did you get a load of that chick, huh, Bill? Who pissed in her coffee this morinin’, that’s what I wanna know. Was it me, now, or did she go from gobsmacked fan to cool bitch in under two minutes. Weren’t asking for any special treatment. You heard me, I asked to be treated like, like, like any regular, normal customer. Right?”

Elvis threw his yachting cap on the counter in a huff, and stomped his foot. Billy watched as Elvis adjusted his little gold cravat and leaned back on the raised heel of his Italian black leather boots. Yup, just a regular guy...

“She wouldn’t even go get her boss —”

Billy coughed.  “Oh, I think she got the boss alright.”

Elvis raised his eyebrows, and Billy pointed to the photos on the wall of a female in dirty coveralls working on cars, in some she was standing next to an older women who was also in coveralls.

“Huh, well I’ll be. A lady grease monkey. So that’s why she’s got her panties in a twist.”

Billy grinned. “Well, I reckon if anyone can untwist a girl’s panties, it’s you.”

Elvis shoved his cousin’s shoulder and winked as he walked backwards through the swinging door into the auto shop. George turned from rolling down the last bay door and crossed her arms, glaring, as Elvis walked toward her. His hat was gone and his arms hung back under his chest, the sleeves of his blue, silk shirt were rolled up and his left hand was notched at his waist. The way his long fingers stretched out over his hip gave his stance an air of purpose. She met his blue eyes and they twinkled with amusement.

“Here now, I - I- I think we got off on the wrong foot out there, bossman.”

Georgie wiped her hands on her jeans, realizing just how much taller he was as he strode toward her. “Hmmm, there’s no need for that, George is fine.”

“George?”

“Georgina if you wanna be more formal, George, Georgie, G, I answer to ‘em all.”

“Alright Georgie George. Can we start again?”

Georgie crossed her arms and pursed her lips, but nodded, moving Elvis’ hand from her waist as she jutted her chin up to look at him. He instantly moved his left hand to her shoulder, once again his thumb was immediate and intimate as it rubbed her collar bone.

“Look, pretty girl like you? How were we sposed to know —”

George lifted his hand from her shoulder, smoothing out her blouse.

“You can lay off the charm. Trust me, you are not the first schmuck to walk in here thinking I’m the secretary.”

Elvis lifted his hands up in defeat.

“OK, ok, now, no charm, I got it. Just brass tacks, jack. George, I mean.”

He winked. Again. A stifled laugh rippled under his cheeks, and George found his smug manner both infuriating and magnetic. She also felt an inexplicable desire to slap his face.

“So, my car’s broke down back on the highway. How are we going to solve this problem, huh?”

George looked at the clock on the wall above her work bench. 6:15. Maude would just be finishing up supper over at the motel, and her stomach had started to growl in anticipation. She looked at Elvis then back at the floor.

“Technically, WE are done working for the day.”

She sighed, somehow his hand was back at her waist and George felt her resolve fading.

“BUT, I hate to think of what I’m guessing is a very fancy, expensive car out there on the highway over night.”

Elvis smirked and adjusted his silk ascot. “Now, wait a minute here, what makes you think I’d own a fancy car?”

“Oh, let’s just call it female intuition. Handier than you’d think in this line of work.”

George removed Elvis hand from her waist, and looked towards the corner of her shop, as she found it increasingly difficult to maintain her brusk, professional demeanor when staring directly into his face.

“Look, I am due for supper, but after, I can drive out with my tow truck and bring your vehicle back here to look over in the morning. How bout that?”

“Sss - sounds good, sounds real good. We can definitely go after we eat, cuz I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

************************************************************************

It was dark when they returned to the garage and George led the way around the back to her tow truck. Billy’s small, short body sat on the passenger side of the cab, and George’s small, short figure sat in the driver’s seat. In between them sat the large, wide, body of Elvis Presley, his arms extended over the back of the seat in both directions, mirrored by the wide berth of his spread legs as he made himself comfortable. He stroked his chin as he looked at himself in the rearview mirror, running his hand through his hair, then pulling out a comb to fix it. George rolled her eyes.

“Trust me, no one is gonna see you out here. In the desert. At 8 o’clock at night.” She motioned to the murky, black expanse of the highway ahead of them.

“Just feel more comfortable to have it all neat and tidy and in the right place. You know how it is, Georgie George, with ya do-hickey here holding this mess a curls back.”

Elvis tugged on George’s pony tail, and she swatted his hand away with an annoyed sigh, then decided to push her knee back against him and reclaim some of her leg room. George’s smile at her triumph was short lived, for, while Elvis held his knees closer together, now his hand slid down along her thigh to envelope her knee cap, squeezing absentmindedly while Billy talked at length about nothing at all. George pushed his hand off her knee, only to find it around her shoulders a moment later, and she gave up, actually pressing into him harder when she saw the white car and turned her steering wheel to parallel park the back of the tow truck at the trunk of the Buick.

Elvis started to reach up for the hook and George hit his hand away from her equipment.

“Stop. I need to line them up a little better. If you want to be helpful, stand there.” She pointed to the edge of the car’s trunk. “And guide me back so the tires are straight from each other, can you handle that?”

“Yes bossman, you just go right ahead, me an Billum are standing by for your orders.” He smirked as he gave George a salute. Billy smiled apologetically

George ignored them, jumping out again when she was content that the tires were lined up and quietly asked if someone would put the car in neutral. Elvis threw Billy the keys, and stood watching as George bent down with her flashlight and pushed herself over the dirt so she was under the back of the Buick. Elvis whistled.

“Hmm, really get down in there, don’t ya?”

“Hmmpf. I’m not afraid of dirt, Mr. Presley.”

George called up to him, as she pulled the lift bar out under the Buick, hitching it to the car, then pulling her up and grabbing a wrench to jack the back of the car until the two back tires were now held completely off the ground. Elvis’ bottom lip hung down as he watched George jump up on the back of the tow truck, and swing down with the hook hangingcoff the boom to secure it to the Buick. When she was satisfied it would hold, George called to Billy to turn the Buick’s lights on, and jumped on the ground, moving towards the driver’s seat as she wiped her hands.

“Hold on, now.”

Elvis whispered, holding George by her shoulders and licking his thumb.

“Not afraid of grease, neither, huh?”

He rolled his wet thumb slowly over the long black streak on her cheek, back and forth until it was gone. His eyes roamed over her face, taking in the way the bottom of her front teeth appeared just slightly under her top lip as she looked up at him and trembled ever so slightly from his touch. He chuckled when she grimaced and pushed his hand away, replacing it with a bandana that she furnished from her coveralls to wipe her face herself .

Elvis brushed dirt off her chest, and moved her around, ignoring the way her hands tried to push him off, as he wiped the dirt off her back and bottom.

“Hush now, I know ya ain’t scared of dirt, doesn’t mean ya wanna be covered in it.”

He brushed his hands off and held her at her waist.

“Moon’s out tonight. Kinda pretty out here in the quiet of the desert.”

Neither of them looked at the moon. Or the desert. They didn't move until the sound of Billy’s footsteps in the gravel broke the spell and they remembered where they were and what was happening. George jolted back, smoothing her hair, as she nodded and walked over to get in the car.

George was silent on the drive back, turning the radio up to let the voices of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons tell her, Billy and Elvis how to walk like a man. Billy droned on about how he never got used to looking out at the desert, and wondered what tumbleweeds really were and where they came from. She was glad for all the noise, it helped her focus her mind on the road ahead and the tasks she needed to do to when they got back, and led her attention away from the strong, warm thigh pressing against her own. George softened into making requests instead of barking commands back at the shop, though she avoided looking directly at Elvis as she said goodnight. Instead, she nodded into Billy’s eyes as she told them to come back in the morning.

************************************************************************

Morning was approximately 11:17 a.m. At least it was for the occupants of room 217. It was 11:45 when they rambled into the motel office and Elvis sweet talked George’s older sister, Maude, into making breakfast, showing her how to burn her bacon the way he liked it as she laughed and answered his random questions about their family and life on Route 66. It was well past noon when Elvis finished the last of his black coffee, and made Maude blush when he crept up behind her at the kitchen sink to kiss her cheek  with a “Thanks for breakfast, honey.” Then he gave Billy very detailed instructions to keep calling the house back in LA, find out where the RV was, and get Joe up to speed on what had happened. 

“He needs to get out here and bring money, cause I don’t know how long this whole thing is gonna take.”

Billy looked over at his cousin. “Gonna have him drive you back tonight?”

“Hell no, I ain’t leaving my car here. Where’d ya get that idea?”

“Joe ain’t gonna be happy with me, EP, tomorrow is Monday, aintcha ‘sposed to go in to record them songs for Kissin——”

“You can tell ol Diamond Joe, from me, that he’s just gonna have to put ‘em off. This car is a custom, one-of-a-kind Buick Skylark with leather seats, a gold plated dash board and a car phone. If he thinks I’m leaving without overseeing its repair, he’s off his goddamn rocker.” 

Billy gulped with an uneasy smile. He loved his cousin, but couldn’t help wishing it was a year ago and they were setting off to Hawaii to do exterior shots for Girls, Girls, Girls, when the mood was lighter and Marty and Lamar were still around.

Ignoring Billy’s puppy dog eyes, Elvis set off across the highway to George’s garage. He smiled at the sight of her legs sticking out from under his car, and he stood for a while admiring them before he whistled flirtatiously and watched her grease streaked face emerge rolling out.

“Never thought I’d like the look of canvas coveralls so much.” Elvis’ cheeks hollowed out as he grinned in boyish glee at George’s disdainful look, then willfully ignored it, walking closer to her and leaning on his car. “What’s the word, bossman?”

“Hmmm. Well, all it needs is an oil change.”

“Oh? That all? ”

“Oh yeah, that’s all. Just make it a month ago. That pan is bone dry, and you’ve blown the head gasket, which explains the white smoke you described. And your engine is starting to warp.”

Elvis smiled as he watched her talk.

“Mr. Presley, I hardly think this is something to smile about, this car - well, normally I’d recommend—"

“Elvis.” He stepped closer.

George looked at him confused, realizing her head was at eye level with the front pocket of his dark blue polka dotted satin shirt.

“What?”

“Elvis, baby, how many times I gotta tell ya to call me Elvis?”

He rubbed her waist. And George lifted his hand off her body, ignoring the tingling feeling she felt as she patted his chest deliberately to push him back.

“Um, huh.”

She breathed.

“Right, ok, Mr. Presley. I mean Elvis. As I was saying, um, usually, in these circumstances I recommend getting a new car, because the cost of a new engine is about the same as a new Buick. But you have a lot of.”

She paused to lift his hand from her shoulder, unsure how it got there, but instinctively stepping back when she saw Elvis take a step closer to her, his hand rolling over the white metal of the Skylark’s rim.

“Um - uh. A lot of expensive-looking modifications that make this vehicle, erm, um, valuable.”

George tripped over her sliding roller and Elvis caught her in his arms, grinning as she looked up into his eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, I know all ‘bout those modifications, Georgie Girl. Oversaw the custi-a-mi-zation of this baby myself, ev’ry inch.”

He smirked at way George trembled and then pushed him off, steadying herself as she stumbled back.

“Hmm, well, for someone so involved you seem to have little regard for your car’s well being.”

Elvis frowned, and shook his head.

“What now?”

“I said, for someone who throws so much money into cars, you don’t seem to care much or know much about them. That car needed an oil change weeks ago, and now I’ll be lucky if I can salvage it. It’s gonna take me days to undo the damage you’ve caused driving it across the country on sludge.”

Elvis rolled back onto the heels of his expensive, Italian boots. He suddenly wished he’d worn an ascot today, it would have been nice to have something there to pull on for comfort. Instead, he braced himself at his hips, his stomach jutting up as he looked at George and frowned. She was pretty, smart, and the her utter obliviousness to how good looking she was, along with the way she seemed to try very hard to resist his advances, aroused him even more. But now she was criticizing how he took care of his cars and seemed to be questioning his very understanding of how motor vehicles. Which, to be fair to George, was an entirely accurate estimation of Elvis. His main question getting into one of his cars was: “Where is the key?” Though, in his defense, this was the only question usually necessary,  because Lamar had been taking care of everything, until the ungrateful bastard had run off to work in Nashville and left the car maintenance to the other guys. Who had promptly forgot about it.

“Now, wait just a goddamn minute, honey, I don’t much appreciate the way y-y- y.”

Elvis clenched his fist and breathed deeply.

“If you are insinuating I don’t know how to take care of my cars, well, you must be outta your goddamn mind. Do you know how many cars I own? What my work schedule is like? I’ll have you know that I have so many cars, I just go out and jump into one, and usually everything is fine, cuz my guys keep em all lubed up real good. It’s just that, well, my car guy just quit, and this one musta fallen by the wayside before he left.”

“Hmmm.” George crossed her arms. “I can’t imagine why someone would want to leave your employment.”

“What’s that ‘sposed to mean?”

“It means that you are difficult and you are spoiled. And full of your self. Think you can go where ever you want, do whatever you please. Got my sister as your short order cook now too. You know, it is just the two of us running the motel and garage out here. She was supposed to be overseeing check out this morning, but no, she’s cooking for you, and so the maids were running to me for direction while she serves you breakfast.”

Elvis stepped forward, hovering over George’s face.

“Jealous, baby? Sounds a lot like you wished it were you a - puttin’ somethin’ in my mouth.”

George slapped him, her eyes on fire.

“Get out of my garage. You’re lucky I’m still willing to - to - work on your - your - stupid, absurdly customized, ridiculous car.”

Elvis rubbed his smarting cheek, with a smirk, then shook his head.

“Ok, ok. I’m leaving. I just came over to see what the diagnosis was, crazy woman.”

George turned around and went to grab a wrench.

“It’s going to be two more days, at the soonest. And I charge double for today, on account that it’s Sunday. Looking at that gold plated dashboard, I figure you can afford my hourly rate.”

“Mhmmm. Uh huh. Don’t you worry, honey, I’m used to paying women double for their hourly rate. Long as I get what I pay for.”

“Get. Out. Before I change my mind.”

George stared ahead at the tools hanging in front her, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to dissipate before she turned around and screamed into the counter below her. She hated Elvis Presley, she hated the ostentatious way he had poured money into superficial aspects of a car that do not make a difference to its performance, and she hated the way his smug face smirked down at her when he talked. But most of all, she hated, hated, hated the way he seemed to always be touching her, it wasn’t even necessarily sexual, just a reflex, like breathing.

“Like his stupid, heavy opened mouth breathing. Ugh. The sooner you get this car fixed, the sooner you an get him out of your hair and back on the road.”

George threw herself into fixing the Buick like a woman possessed.

************************************************************************

George did not join them for dinner, and Elvis politely asked Maude for a second helping of her chili con carne while Billy regaled her with tales from previous road trips. The sanitized versions, of course, with a promise that they would never pull any of the pranks he described at her motel.

“I reckon we ain’t never stayed here no how, cuz it’s so close to LA, usually try to get to Winslow the first night out to Memphis. Same on the way back, lessen we cut over to Sin City.”

He looked at Elvis, whose eyes were gazing at the lit window above the garage, his mind lost in thought remembering the fiery look in George’s hazel eyes, and the shapely contour of her bottom underneath his hands as he’d wiped the dirt off her the night before.

“Right, EP?” Billy repeated himself, and Elvis looked up in a daze, and stood.

“Hmmm, sorry y’all. This is very good chili, ma’am, very good. I like that you don’t put onions in yours, no, no, it’s just right. Just how I like it.”

He brought his bowl to the sink, and looked at Billy’s quizzical face, as he excused himself.

“I, uh, I. Well, I think I need to go apologize to your sister. I have a bad temper, I know it, boy do I know it. Mighty Mouth ova there knows it.”

Billy nodded, slowly, waiting to see where this was going.

”I ,uh, well, I reckon I need to go straighten things out with George, so she ain’t liable to pour sugar in my gas tank or nothin.”

George was on her third beer when she opened the door of her apartment to find Elvis’ dark front hair flop dangling down toward her. She sipped from the bottle as she started to ask him what he wanted, only to watch him push through her outstretched arm, the she was using to block his entry to her flat, and proceed to pace around the living room.

“Look, I came over because, uh, well.”

He ran his right hand through his hair, his left hand hitched at his belt. The sound of Patsy Cline singing wafted through the room as he turned.

“Well, I didn’t like how we left things earlier.”

“Mhmmm.”

George grunted, taking another swig of beer and holding the door open with the back of her bare foot. The strap of her her brown, A-line dress fell over her shoulder and she pulled it back up, fixing the loose bust that covered her small, modest bosom.

“Ok, apology accepted, you can go.”

Elvis raised his eyebrow and strode toward her.

“See, now that, that right there, is the problem. I come over to patch things up and you get all nasty. Like I was tha only one, uh, the only one spoutin’ vinegar earlier.”

His hands found their way to her hips, and rolled over them. George shivered at the warm murmur of his voice.

“Why is it so hard for you to just be nice to me? To just be a nice girl?”

George felt the cool of her beer bottle as it hung heavy in her right hand, her eyes flittered up to Elvis’ where he hovered over her, pushing her against the open, apartment door she had been so hasty to send him out of thirty seconds ago.

“But I’m not a nice girl, Mr. Presley.”

She lowered her yes, turning to the right.

“Why even pretend.” She whispered.

Elvis leaned forward.

“Hmmm."

His thumbs rolled up and down the sides of her belly like slow, small window wipers clearing away the doubt and hesitancy that tightened her stomach.  His lips wavered over hers as he muttered into her cheek.

“How many times I gotta tell you to call me Elvis?”

He leaned in closer, lips just above her skin as she closed her eyes and a moan escaped her mouth. Elvis tightened his grip at her waist.

“Mr. Presley is my daddy.”

He laid his lips softly over her, as he smooshed into them awkwardly, tenderly, taking several clumsy tackles until they settled over hers and then gently crushed into her. All George could hear were the sloppy clicks of air echoing between their lips as she closed her eyes and felt his mouth press onto hers. His hands traced further down her sides and his tongue gently teased the entrance of her mouth.

George pulled back, panting, and pushed Elvis into the apartment, setting her beer on top of the bookcase by the door. He wiped his mouth, an apologetic expression forming as he started to talk.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, I , uh, I didn’—”

George put her finger to his mouth and pulled himto her.  Elvis’ eyes lit up as he opened his lips over it and George pushed her finger inside his mouth, tingling with electricity as it grazed against Elvis’ teeth. She saddled closer, tilting her chest into his, lifting her self closer to his face. He inhaled with a shudder, hands stroking her waist, eyes closed, his lips more forceful now and she groaned as she met his tongue with hers. Elvis caught George as she tripped backwards and cupped her bottom cheeks, carrying her to the couch. Her arms wound around his neck and she peppered his face with sweet, light kisses.

He plopped down laughing as she straddled over his lap, exploring his neck with her mouth while her fingers grasped at the back of his head, hair, shoulders. Elvis hands roamed over the top of George’s brown cotton dress, slowly pulling it up as his thumbs trailed over the white panties he found there, roving over her thighs and around to caresses her buttucks. The way she looked down and blushed made Elvis’ cock twitch and she bit her lip when she felt it. Looking into his eye’s with devilish intent, George arched her eyebrow and slide down to the carpet to nestle herself between Elvis’ legs. His reached down to stop her eager hands, eyes narrowing as he shook his head.

“Uh uhhhhhh,  you’re a nice girl, nice girls don, uh, well, nice girls don do that. Ain’t gonna let ya do something you gonna regret tomorrow morning.”

Elvis took her hand up, and kissed the bottom of her palm as George surged up taller on her haunches to kiss him back, her fingers caressed his neck as she moaned a whiny please into his mouth.

“Pleasseeee. This. This is my favorite thing.”

She kissed him, freeing her right hand from his grasp, and then dipping down to nuzzle against his hardened length.

“C’mon….uh…goddammit honey… fuck.”

He breathed in, opening his eyes to still her with a grip to her chin.

 “You really wanna… wanna see ‘im, huh?”

George nodded, and bit her lip. A crooked grin spread over Elvis’ face as he shook his head again, and undid his belt,  lifting up as he unzipped and pulled his pants down, his smile widening as George smiled coyly, waggling her eye brows and then leaning in to lightly kiss his foreskin. Elvis tilted his head back at the sensation, and thrust his hips closer to George’s face as she pressed her lips over the head, slowly gliding down as Elvis’ tip emerged from his foreskin.

He groaned out, and she giggled into the pink head of his penis. He opened his eyes and looked down, hand moving down to run his fingers through the side of her hair.

“What’s so funny, huh, lil girl?”

George savored the way his quizzical expression changed from amused to almost terrified pleasure as her lips popped off.

“You. The noises you make. I find them—” she dove back down, plunging farther as she finished her sentence with a mouth full of Elvis. “He-war-ee-ousss.”

Her response didn’t really register with him, as he sunk back into the couch cushions at the charged, blissful surge of George’s mouth up his cock, his fingers threading through the left side of her hair. Elvis bucked into her mouth as her lips met his base, and he hit the back of her throat. She smiled inward because she could tell he was trying to hold his hips still so as not to press to far in and gag her. His fingers were soft, and his mouth ushered forth a mantra of sweet “oh gawds,” as George sucked back and forth, her tongue darting to swirl around the edge, then she pulled off to catch her breath, looking up into Elvis’ sweet, grateful dopey smile. George beamed back, maintaining eye contact as she plunged down again with a fervent thirst, her cheeks hollowing with determination as she flattened her tongue beneath his cock, swallowing it in long, slow strokes, sinking down over him and relishing the needy, almost shocked look in his eyes as she throbbed up and down, his hand lightly following in her hair. His moans became louder, and George quickened her pace, thrusting her chest forward to delve further, harder, softer with each successive delicious movement downward. Elvis gripped her hair, looking down.

“Hey baby, heyyy, Immaa - Immma ‘bout to explode, hmmmm? ahhhhh”

George nodded, and groaned as her mouth worked its way down faster, sucking in with heightened, electric anticipation until she heard him cry out and felt the spasm of Elvis’ pulsating into her mouth. She swallowing, sloppily, as she rotated up and down, holding him at his waist for balance until he stilled, his hand caressing her cheek up and down. She settled back and leaned into his thigh, looking up at a goofy, crooked smile under eyes half lidded in contentment.

************************************************************************

It was 11 a.m. when Elvis awoke to Billy’s hand on his shoulder, bewildered and uncertain where he was. He made eye contact with his cousin, taking in how the furnishings of George’s bedroom looked in the morning (technically it was still morning).

Elvis blinked, unlike Billy, he didn't know what time it was, or why his cousin was there, or where the occupant of the apartment was.

“Heh, uh, hey there, Bill, what’s - uh - what’s the idea?”

Billy gulped, this was not the most embarrassing situation he had ever been in. Not by far. So he smiled, and looked around, beginning to gather up Elvis pants, socks and shoes, which were carefully folded and stacked on the cedar chest at the end of the bed.

“Uh, hey, man, uh Joe’s here. Sonny and Alan too. We’re, uh, all paid up, ready to head out? I brought ya some coffee.”

Elvis sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Uh, wait, what, uh, what about the car?”

Billy looked back out to the living room as Elvis stood and put his pants on.

“Um, its ready, actually.”

Elvis looked up from where he was rolling his sock over his foot.

“What?”

“Uh, yeah, Maude, um, Miss Morgenstern, that is, well, um, she said her sister must have gotten up and been working on it from four or five this morning ‘fore she lit out for Carson City.”

Elvis started buttoning up his shirt.

“Carson City?”

Billy coughed and straightened his own shirt.

“Uh, yeah, Miss George, um. Well, guess she had to go pick up some auto supplies or sumpthin’ like that. Gosh, huh, girl mechanic, can’t believe it, right? Maybe those little hands give ‘em an advantage?”

He gulped again as he met Elvis’ disappointed stare.

“Yeah, erm, um. Anyhow, she’s not fixing to be back til late tonight.”

They were twenty minutes outside of Los Angeles when Joe and Sonny watched the white Buick Skylark pull over in front of them. Jumping out of the black, Lincoln Contintential they were driving behind Billy and Elvis,  Sonny walked up the passenger side of the car and leaned over the rail.

“Sup boss?”

Elvis gripped the steering wheel, then lifted his right hand to fix his yachting hat.

“Goddamit, what do ya think Son, Billy left my goddamn toiletry bag back at that goddamn motel in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Gonna have to go back.”

Billy started to interject, saying, “I double, triple checked and we didn—” but was met with a swift elbow to the ribs.

Sonny clenched his fists as he walked back to Joe, asked for all the money in Joe’s wallet, and handed it over to Elvis, before watching the Skylark make a three point turn and head back along the road into the powder blue sky behind them.

************************************************************

Many thanks to my fellow players @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @whositmcwhatsit

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis smut #writing prompt game #thatbanditqueen #georgesgarage

[unactivewaspsfics]

The Southern Charm

A/N: I'm trying new formatting… Idk what works with me JUST yet so if this is the only post with this kind of formatting, you know :D I will say depending on how interested I am I may make a part two… Who knows lmao <;33 also I WAS gonna post this at 12 am but the demons won and I am posting it at like 9 >:D

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x NB!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, SFW

CW: Pet names, flirting, minor cussing, and kissing?! (😦)

Word Count: 1,090 or so

Summary:

While you are traveling to visit family who begged you to come down, you decide to take a pit-stop break at a small Texan town on Route 66. This was your first stop in any considerable amount time but it has a lot of southern charm, and one cowboy you grab your eye is ALL southern and lots, and I mean lots, of charm. I guess you can say you two went on a date too.

You grabbed your bags as you waited for the train to finally pause on its tracks and for the conductor to confirm everyone can leave. It had been a super long train ride, not being helped at all by the dizzy feeling of motion sickness you had mid-train ride. While gathering your things, you sighed. How long was it to go from South Carolina to California? You thought while looking out the window.

Desert. A town surrounded by sand, dead trees, and cacti. What a great first look at Texas. Although, you couldn't really complain. It was time to stretch your legs and sleep on an actual bed... If there is a motel here, you weren’t one-hundred percent sure what was even in this town. I mean, there has to be a place to eat, especially since you were starving. What food could be there? Fries maybe... or even grilled cheese... you are in texas so there has to be barbeque. 

You were interrupted by your thoughts by the train conductor speaking. “Everyone is now free to leave! There is a restaurant for your hungry folks, a nearby motel, a gas station, and of course the train station! The next train will be here tomorrow morning heading more south..”

His voice started fading from your ears as you stood up, trying to move through the slightly crowded hallway. You held onto your bag tightly, so as to not lose what you have, as you pushed through groups of people. Before you knew it, you were outside in the Texas sun. It was decent, not too hot and not too windy. 

“Now... where is…” you asked yourself while walking out of the train station to locate the restaurant. “Oh, there it is!” you said happily, fixing your bag before starting to walk to the restaurant. You had no idea last time you had a full meal, I mean yeah you brought snacks for the train but that couldn't be counted as a meal. You looked around at the people in this town and you were very out of place. People here wore old western clothes. Boots, cowboy hats, and some had lassos on their belts. It was like you were in an actual western movie.

While looking at everyone, you caught the eye of a certain cowboy. He wore a red poncho with a brown hat and lots of facial hair. He also has a lot of metal on him. ‘He must get hot in all of that... And his hand is also robotic?’ you asked yourself as he started to walk your way. Your eyes raised up to the man's face, a slight nervousness coming up. You weren't nervous because of his good looks, but because he saw you looking at him. He started to walk to you, a southern chuckle emerging from his lips as he finished the cigar he was smoking, throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

You fixed your posture and put up a nervous grin, hoping he wouldn't yell at you for staring.. Although it would be acceptable, I mean, you would do the same. “Someone seems to like our town,” he said in a teasing tone while you looked up at him nervously. “Sorry I was staring, I’ve never been here before and I just am surprised everyone here wears cowboy hats and stuff” you explained as the Cowboy laughed slightly more.

“You've never been here before? Well may I welcome such an attractive person like yourself to this little town I call home?” he asked, bowing with open arms for a moment before standing up and placing his hand on the holster of his gun. You were taken aback by how flirtatious he was being right now, I mean, calling you attractive in less than a minute of meeting? You gave a nervous laugh while covering your face slightly. “It’s an honor to be here, Mister…?” you asked, lowering your hand as you started to process how hungry you actually were. “Cole, Cole Cassidy at your service,” he replied, tilting the brim of his hat to you. “Sorry for the conversation change but I haven’t eaten an actual meal in fucking forever- is that café any good?” you asked, pointing to the only restaurant in sight. 

“The Panorama Diner? Oh yeah, it’s good… As good as a place in the middle of nowhere can be” he laughed, turning his body to the diner. “Hey, do you wanna eat with me? I’ll pay for your meal if you agree, stunning traveler” he half-joked, starting to walk to the diner. Obviously, you agreed, I mean, free food and the ability to go on an unofficial date with a handsome cowboy, it’s a win-win! “It would be an honor to be on a date with someone who has all the southern charm in the world” you replied, quickening your pace to catch up with Cole.

“So, where are you going up to? Arizona? Washington? Or are you here to stay in this little town with little ol’ me?” Cole asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning towards you before leaning back to normal. You laughed, fixing the bag around your body. “Despite the fact I would love to stay here with you, I have to go to California to visit family!” you replied with a laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Damn, looks like you have a whole lotta more ways to go, but I ain’t the one to question why someone goes places” he laughed, his smile growing slightly as you two stepped up the stairs of the Diner.

The Diner didn’t look that bad, and I mean it was busy so it had to be good. “Oh, by the way,” he stopped in front of the door to look at you. “I may be a little bit popular here, so if you see people looking at you they aren’t in awe of how breathtaking you look, they just are wondering why you were chosen to go out with me” he jokingly said, nudging your arm with his elbow before laughing. Cole opened the door and motioned for you to go inside first. You stepped in, the smell of food overwhelming your nose, the coolness of the building that contrasted the outside dryness, and the talk of the people was the best thing ever to your right now. 

The two of you walked in and seated yourselves, Cole grabbed a menu as the two of you were heading to a booth next to a window. You sat opposite each other. Cole handed you a menu and you glanced over it, all the food options looked so good. “Hey- what do you always get here?” you asked as Cole looked up from his hand resting on the table. “I get the pie, but if you want a good meal,” he began, leaning over the table and pointing to the ‘Texan Charmer’ which was a burger and fries. “Now that's what I normally get” He laughed looking up at you. You met eyes with him as he leaned back down with a growing smile. “I think I’ll get that, and maybe an apple pie after. If you say it's good it has to be, right?” you jokingly asked him as he laughed. “I mean, if I say something is good in any sense, it’s one hundred percent true,” he half-joked, causing you to give a small chuckle.

Cole raised his hand up to have a waitress, the only waitress, come over and take the orders of both of you. This gave both of you time to talk and get to know each other. “So, why did you ask me out to go eat?” you asked, leaning on the table a bit towards Cole. “Well- Unlike everyone else on that train you were alone and caught my eye,” He said, a bit nervously, clearing his throat. “And I didn’t want anyone else to try anything on ya, since there are few gangs and stuff here” he explained, looking away from you. “Wow that- that’s sweet of you, it’s honestly a surprise,” you laughed, causing Cole to grumble a bit as the food was brought and placed on the tablet with your drinks.

You looked at the food in awe after thanking the waitress. “This smells so good,” you stated, grabbing some fries and putting them in your mouth. “Everything here is a homemade, fun fact!” he replied, grabbing a fry with his robotic arm. “Hey, that’s mine!” you jokingly said while leaning over to get it back. “And who's paying for your food again?” he asked in a teasing tone, raising his hand slightly out of reach. You reached for the fry one more time before leaning back with a fake annoyed look. “Hey, don’t worry buttercup,” he started, eating the stolen fry. “You have plenty more fries to eat on that plate of yours... In the meantime though,” he changed the subject to his food, his apple pie. 

The two of you ate in general silence, only talking or commenting on the food once or twice. “Is that pie any good?” you asked cole with a raised eyebrow, already finished your burger and most of your fries. “Best I've ever had actually,” he laughed, taking another bite with his fork. “If you want a bite just ask, I’m... I’m not hungry anymore,” he said, looking away from you as he pushed the pie and his fork toward you. “No way am I eating this myself, especially when I can share it with a handsome cowboy like yourself,” you flirted, sticking your tongue out at him as he chuckled. “Fine then, guess I can’t miss the opportunity to eat with someone as stuntin’ like yourself, darlin’,” he replied, his southern accent coming through in that sentence.

So, as stated, the two of you shared the desert together. You were more flustered than he was, never really sharing food like that with a stranger- or more of a new friend. Crush maybe? You didn’t know what was the right thing to call him as of current. After he had paid for both of your meals, you two decided to head out. You had to get a motel room so he decided to walk with you. It was sundown, so you assumed Cole wanted to be ‘protective’ of you. It was slightly comforting. As you walked Cole lit a cigar.

“So, how long did ya say you were staying here?” he asked you, putting the cigar in his mouth. “Just until the next train comes here,” you replied, taking a step closer to Cole, finding comfort in him the more you two hung out together. “I think the next train will be here tomorrow afternoon,” you added. Cole nodded silently as you spoke, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a moment to have fresh air before putting it back. “Hey- will you at least see me before you leave?” he asked nervously, clearing his throat. “I would- I want to exchange numbers... In case you wanna come to visit” he said, changing his demeanor from nervous to flirtatious. “Or if you wanna spend the night at my place, you're free too.”  You laughed, nodding your head as you leaned your whole upper body on him as you two walked to the motel.

“Despite the fact I would love to spend the night with you, maybe another day” you replied, opening the door to the motel check-in. Cole dropped his cigar and stomped it out as you asked for a one-night motel room. It was pretty quick to get you one, which you were glad for. Cole followed you to your hotel room, watching as you unlocked the door and threw your bag in real quickly. 

“Well, Darlin’... It was nice spending the day with you. Tomorrow I'll stop by to say goodbye, yeah?” he asked, cupping your cheek with a chuckle. You smiled, grabbing his face with your hands and leaning his face towards you, the smell of cigar almost making you lean back. “I guess i will be waiting then” you smiled, leaning your face forward and giving him a cheek kiss, moving your hands as he stood slightly shocked, and a bit offended you didn’t kiss him on the lips. But I mean, you can’t have him be too eager, now can you?

You walked into the motel, turning to Cole with a grin.

“See you tomorrow, Darlin’!”

#cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy overwatch #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #cole overwatch x reader #cole cassidy oneshot #overwatch oneshot #overwatch 2 #sorry for adding his old name after this I just want more people to see this.. #I dont support calling him his old name and I am so sorry so so so sorry #overwatch mccree #mccree x reader #jesse mcree

[jwirecs]

Recommended Misc Fics of February - March 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my recs for seventeen & straykids for february - march! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

FAKE DATING

Again and Again || @lovelyhan​​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

OTHER AU

Anonymously Yours || @joonsytip​ 💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ After an accidental text message turns into a digital friendship, you and Joshua start crushing on each other without realizing you both see each other frequently in real life. (not gonna lie, i cried a lil while reading this at work. i love it)

Distraction || @that-one-hyunjin-stan​​🔞✅

↳ Wonwoo knew he was supposed to be focused on teaching you how to play the game. However, you just looked too tempting.

Gym Rat || @onlyhuis​​​🔞✅

↳ (theres no summary that i could find, but gym + smut)

Let Me Try Again || @papermatisse​💕💔✅

↳ Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?

My Pillow || @alohajun​​​💕✅

↳ (theres no summary that i could find, but this is cute)

Silky || @playmetheclassics​​​🔞💕✅

↳ Your boyfriend got his hair permed and wants to know if it still feels as soft when you tug on his hair, mainly when he’s laid between your thighs.

The Racer and His Girl || @lovelycheollie​​​💕✅

↳ “He held her close enough to kiss, close enough to whisper the most important secrets in the world, and he spoke to her as he would have wanted some good angel to speak to his family, to his own shivering young soul, long ago and in a land far away.”

Thirst Trap || @lovelyhan​​​​​🔞💕✅

↳ when your boyfriend posts a deliberate thirst trap for millions to see. you end up feeling just a little bit sulky (oh sweet mother lord)

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Little Secret || @haosvteen​​​💕💔✅💯

↳ joshua’s life was as ordinary as can be expected for an idol. that is until a girl drops her hat and he texts her only to discover she’s a fan…and he’s her bias. he likes talking to someone who doesn’t know he’s an idol, but he needs to keep it that way. she can’t find out he is actually joshua hong from seventeen.

Play Along || @wonunuu​​​💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ you receive a text from a guy meant for the woman he once loved, unaware of the fact that she is already long gone. you decide to play along because well, you're bored.

Retrouvailles || @wonunuu​​​💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ happiness? are reunions always happy though? when you are reunited with someone you want to see the least, does it make you happy?

OTHER AU

Days Of Candy || @hwan-g​​​🔞✅

↳ a lot of things happened in motel rooms, even more happened between him and girls like you, girls that ride on his bike and have him by the balls.

Route 66 || @hwan-g​​​🔞✅

↳ you should’ve known, the moment you’d enter route 66, you’d be his. chan isn’t a generous man-he doesn’t share well.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter || @straylightdream​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ a series of connecting college au stories with different members of skz. They can be read in the order below listed but you don’t have to read each on to understand the story.

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Friends Without Desire || @skzhua​​​💕💔✅

↳ “i like you so much, i want to give you my everything, only for you…”

SOULMATE AU

Midnight Diner || @hwan-g​​​​🔞💔✅

↳ he’s seen a lot of shit in his line of work. but this-he couldn’t let this go. not when you were involved.

Do check out all of the other Group Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen social media au #seventeen established relationship au #seventeen fake dating au #seventeen fic recs #seventeen recs #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids social media au #stray kids fic recs #stray kids recs

[m-musings]

may we have some platonic headcanons where the reader (gender neutral) is a teenager that Cassidy accidentally adopted (we know the trope) and thanks to his influence is just as much of a menace to Ashe as he is (maybe somehow even more)?

please, and thank you

Headcanons: Cole Cassidy with a GN! Teen! Reader (Platonic)

A/N: Sorry this took a while, I am not good at writing parent/child relationships at all so hopefully it doesn't suck ass lmao. hope you enjoy! :]

Word Count:491 Warnings: none, literally just familial fluff

Being Cass' "adopted" child would be… chaotic, to say the least.

But like a fun chaotic!

During what is essentially an escort mission followed by a rescue from a dangerous villain, Cassidy and you would go from wary friends to a father and child dynamic duo.

He'd pretty much be like "You're my kid now! :D" and you'd be like "Okay, cool! :D"

He would bring you to Gibraltar and introduce you to all new and old Overwatch members, who would almost instantly welcome you like an old friend.

He wouldn't necessarily want you to become part of Overwatch, but he'd still teach you some gunslinging and other skills to keep yourself safe should a disaster ever occur when he's away from you.

And when he isn't busy with Overwatch work, he would love to do all the typical father things with you.

Having movie nights on a big comfy couch, going to Route 66 and teaching you to ride a motorbike, taking you to school, like whatever you can think of, Cassidy is by your side every step of the way.

He especially loves the times when your as much of a gremlin towards Ashe and others as he is, it secretly makes him proud to have someone to carry on that legacy.

Cole takes notice of things you like to do or watch and actively tries to show an interest in them, even if they aren't really his thing.

You appreciate the sentiment though and always give him a great big hug as thanks before you both decide to do something you both enjoy instead.

Sometimes for fun, you'll steal his cape/poncho and boots while he's napping and strut around the Watchpoint compound while imitating him to make the others laugh.

Each time he realizes what's going on, he'll leap out of his bunk and go chase you around while half-heartedly scolding you with a large smile on both of your faces.

After the most recent incident, he'll buy or find you a hat that matches his own just so you stop stealing his stuff.

And if you were ever sick or feeling down, he would drop everything to help nurse you back to your regular self, even if it was something small like a sneeze or scraping your knee after you trip.

He is very protective of you, but not in a helicopter parent way but in like a "just wanna make sure you're doing okay then I'll go" kind of way.

Of course, there are times like that when he's a little too obvious about sneaking around to protect you, which causes some tension between you two.

You maybe butt heads and start to argue about the way he goes about it but after the fighting stops and you both cool off for a while, you're able to smoothly forgive and forget.

All in all, Cassidy may be a great cowboy, but he's an even better dad.

#cole cassidy #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagines #headcanon

[infernalodie]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 || 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞

“𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦? 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺? 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨“

Inspo: PARTYNEXTDOOR - THE NEWS

Summary: She wouldn’t let anyone else have you.

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, and fingering.

Words: 1885

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“Boss, do you mind if I inquire with you about something?” Ashe wanted nothing more than to block out her henchmen’s voice. Up and walk away and continue trying to get that well-needed sleep no one was allowing her to have. This train ride was still 8 more hours until they would hit New York, so more sleep was better than nothing.

But you had not been making that easy for her. From the moment she met you, the trouble you had stirred and the chaos you left was annoying, to say the least. Cassidy has already strolled back into her life, warning her to stay away from you as it will only cause problems for her. But Ashe not only hated Cassidy, but she also wasn’t one to take orders. So, hunting you down and bringing you back to Route 66 was always her goal.

She hummed, giving enough of her attention for the man to sigh. “What are we doing, boss?”

Ashe lifted the brim of her cowboy hat before she glared at her henchmen. “Getting my wife back,” she replied. “Now, go and sit back down before you draw attention to us.”

The man nodded, clearing his voice and sliding into his seat with the rest of her henchmen. Leaving Ashe to sit opposite of Bob, who was always quiet. Something she was glad for when it came to her right-hand man.

But in recent events, you had slipped up and left a crumb trail to where you were staying. So, here Ashe was, coming to get you and bring you back to Route 66. A place you hated for its heat and hated because that’s where she resided.

The marriage was forced by her, but she couldn’t help herself. When she saw you, you were visiting your parents who had fallen into Ashe’s hold on the criminal business. Supplying her with weapon routes of military convoys and such. So, she had put your parents into a position that you didn’t want and it resulted in you running away. That or the fact that she had killed your girlfriend, but that’s in the past now.

You on the other hand had found a steady job with pretty good protection coming from your Uncle. Cassidy promised to check in hourly or have some people come over from Overwatch. It helped you relax in this new lifestyle you had acquired and it was safe to say that you enjoyed it a lot more than whatever Ashe had planned for you.

There was a flower shop down the street that you had been working at and it made the travelling from point A to point B easy on your ever-fading anxiety. But tonight, instead of going straight home, you decided to go to an indoor Hot Sprints near the center of New York. With the constant worry, you felt, you needed a mini getaway. Something to cleanse your body and clear your mind, even if it was for only an hour or so.

So, arriving, you went to the changing rooms, stripped down and got into some swimwear, and stepped out into the large room. The lights were turned off with how late it was, leaving only the faint green glow of lamps along the edge of the walls. Fluorescent lights as well inside the small bodies of water that you slowly stepped into. A gentle sigh falls from your lips as you inhale the almost suffocating heat. But instantly beginning to feel the opening of your sinuses.

Taking a seat on one of the benches and relaxing. Head rolling back to rest on the tiled wall encompassing you. Allowing your eyes to shut as you let the warmth of the pool take you into a deep slumber. One that you knew you would never want to leave.

“How’re you doing, darlin’?”

That voice made your entire body freeze up. Eyes shooting wide as your head snapped up to see Ashe standing at the one entrance into and out of the pool. She held a smirk, amused by the timing and place she found you in. She was definitely expecting to break into your apartment. But this was ten times better just by how peaceful you looked.

But you were more caught off by how good she looked without all her gear. Her shoulder-length winter white hair sat perfectly and rather attractively. When you met her, you didn’t very much like the hat- the vest could go, but the white button-up and red tie were perfect. At the time, you had no problem admiring Ashe because you didn’t know who she exactly was. Now, you knew everything that she attempted to keep hidden from you.

Ashe hummed, moving her hands slowly through the water. But you couldn’t help but find it somewhat interesting in this side of Ashe. The fact that she wasn’t a leader of a gang or a killer, she was a woman. One that had forced your parent's hand and was officially your wife.

She looked breathtaking under this lighting. Most of her face on show, but her piercing crimson iris’s glowed as she peeked up at you. And this wasn’t even mentioning her bare body that was hidden beneath the surface of the water.

“How did you find me?” You asked, knowing no possible way out of this interaction and likely fight with the thief.

A soft chuckle fell from Ashe’s lips as she stepped forward. It caused you to shimmy further back on the bench. Feeling the warmly tiled walls touch your flesh like pinpricks. “You are good at hiding, I’ll give you that.” She soon stood between your parted legs. Hands finding your sides as you inhaled sharply from the contact.

Since the wedding, you hadn’t seen her or been this close to her. Honestly, it had been a day after the wedding that you left. And if you were being really honest, you hadn’t seen Ashe smile until that day. You had seen her cocky grins, but it felt more genuine that day. So, although you felt sorry for putting her through this, this was also your life she was playing with.

Softly and trying not to spook you, she pulled you closer until you were chest-to-chest with her. “I missed you.” She sighed, leaning her head against yours, and shutting her eyes. But if she had kept them open, she would’ve seen the shocked expression that formed on your face.

“Ashe…” You trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know you don’t deserve me, right?” Gently, your arms wrapped around her for the first time. Trying to welcome in this woman that you only knew had done horrible things.

She hummed, resting her chin on your head. ��I know a lot of things and that’s one I wish I didn’t,” she confessed softly. “I never wanted to make things as bad as they are.”

“But they are, Ashe. You killed my girlfriend and are forcing me into this relationship,” you said. “I don’t know you outside of all the horrible things you’ve done. My Uncle hates your guts and won’t let you near me even if I was to accept this fully.”

Ashe chuckled, shaking her head. “Screw Cassidy. The bastard is dead to me as it is. If you wanted this as much as me, he wouldn’t do anything because he won’t go against your word.” You huffed in annoyance as Ashe lifted her head and looked down at you with a soft smile. “But I know something that can help you get to know me if you’d like.”

Just by the suggestive tone, it made you shed a smile in amusement. Ashe couldn’t help but admire it. Never once had she seen you smile and it worked wonders on her heart; palpitating and echoing in her ears.

So, ever so slowly and hesitantly, you stood on your tippy toes and kissed her. Soft and delicate, just the way she knew you to be. She followed your pace, allowing you to take control. Something you never thought possible for the power-hungry criminal. Gripping her jaw, you gently pulled down and pushed your tongue past her lips. Feeling her press further into your chest; seeking more of what you had to offer her.

Her hands fell to your waist, nails scrapping against your flesh; pulling you closer. But as she leaned forward, you leaned back. She could feel your lips curving into a grin as you kissed her just as passionately as she had dreamed of. One of your hands comes up to cup her cheek and brush your thumb against her cheekbone.

But the last thing she expected was your free hand to slither between the two of you and cup her sex. The touch made Ashe part with a shaky exhale. Eyes trailing from where your hand rested up to your eyes that held nothing but mischief. A smirk grew on her lips as she leaned and said, “you are full of surprises, Y/n.”

Your fingers moved; small circular shapes into her clit as Ashe moaned. Bracing her hands on the tiled walls, trapping you as you leaned back into the wall. Enjoying the beautiful view of this beautiful woman break apart by your doing. If you got this much power over her, then you might just enjoy yourself.

Ashe couldn’t help herself when she leaned forward again, seeking your lips. But found you to avoid them with a devilish grin on them. “Did you think I was innocent, Ashe?” You inquired, letting your other hand wrap around her throat. Eliciting a gasp from the much older woman. “I wanna hear those pretty sounds before I give myself to you.”

Pressing past her entrance, Ashe attempted to bow her head, but you stopped her. The hand holding her throat tightened and forced her half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “I wanna see those beautiful eyes.” Her heart jumped.

Your fingers thrusted into her rapidly and held no mercy. Thumb doing rough brush strokes on her clit that was needing more and more of you with each. But from the build-up on Ashe’s end and the way you looked, she fell apart way too fast. But by God, it was the greatest feeling she had felt in years.

Her knees nearly buckled under the mind-blowing orgasm with her hands clenching into fists. Hips jutting forward, trying to keep the rhythm you had set. But that did nothing to stop you as your fingers kept the same pace until she was trembling and gasping for breaths. Uncontrollable moans fell from her lips as one of her hands gripped your waist. A signal you understood and slowed down, helping her back down from her high.

Soon, she was panting, feeling the aftershocks of the high. Eyes looking up at you and finding you admiring her. It was a different side of you she had no idea possible from you. But she knew she wanted. She wanted every single thing you had to offer her. Nothing more and nothing less.

Both of your hands came up and held her face. Smiling softly as the woman stared back at you, sparing a tired smile.

Leaning forward, you kissed her nose. “Now, you can have me, baby.”

#x fem!reader #x fem reader #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch imagine #ashe overwatch #ashe fanfiction #ashe imagine #ashe x fem!reader #ashe x you #ashe x y/n #ashe x fem reader #overwatch ashe #Overwatch #overwatch x fem!reader #overwatch 2 #overwatch 2 x fem!reader #overwatch 2 imagine #overwatch 2 fanfiction #ashe angst #ashe smut

[wtftarot]

PAC Reading: Justice

Justice is all about justice, shocking. It talks about karma, balance and cutting through bullshit. Is there some bullshit you need to cut out of your life? Is there an area of your life you’re not judging clearly or maybe judging too harshly? Let’s fuck around a find out.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken in place of professional advice in any capacity. Remember use common sense, and don't be a dumbass

I decided to do pictures of my cat, not only because he’s named after the card but also because the justice card can be pretty ruthless so we’re gonna balance that with some softness. Pick whichever you feel the most drawn to and head on to your reading.

random ass vibes: 6,66, hobbies, skateboarding, letting yourself slow down, hats? being gentle, cheap chocolate, environmentalism, self-definition

random ass vibes: 6,66, hobbies, skateboarding, letting yourself slow down, hats? being gentle, cheap chocolate, environmentalism, self-definition

random ass vibes: 6,66, hobbies, skateboarding, letting yourself slow down, hats? being gentle, cheap chocolate, environmentalism, self-definition

if you liked this reading and would like to support my broke ass, feel free to use the lil tip thingy at the bottom of the post

Group Two (Sleepy Justice)

Soo, when I was shuffling for this group I heard 'not your martyr anymore'. Have y'all been taught that strength means enduring shit? I mean it can, but sometimes the stronger thing is to know when enough is enough. Y'all may have been told that you were being sensitive when you got upset that someone was being a dick to you. now you just try to grin and bare it. Honey, knowing how you deserve to be treated is never a weakness, they were just trying to shut you up so they could keep being a dick. Not wanting to be treated badly is not a weakness, it never will be. Sometimes enduring things actually weakens you. Like, say you sprained your ankle but for whatever reason you decide to keep running on it instead of taking care of it, in doing so you fuck it up more, then later when it's healed it still hurts or won't bend right (Not speaking from personal experience here, AT ALL) Taking care of yourself whether emotionally or physically is never a weakness, it's real fucking important and can save you from more pain down the line. If you've been quietly enduring the shitty behavior of others Justice is calling you to stop. (safely of course, if this is like SHITTY shitty behavior, try to get a safety net in place before you do anything.) You're being asked to re-think how you view strength, you're own strength in particular. Sometimes strength and sensitivity go hand in hand, be sensitive enough to know when something feels off and strong enough to call bullshit what it is. This can apply to other things too, not just assholes. You don't have to watch horror movies if they freak you out. You don't have to drink more than you feel comfortable with. Etc.

Random ass vibes: route 66, road trips, juggling, black and white styles, bright lipstick, soft rock, vintage butterfly art, 333

if you liked this reading and would like to support my broke ass, feel free to use the lil tip thingy at the bottom of the post

Group Three (Justice looking cute)

There's this confused, stagnate energy with this group. Y'all may have been wondering why you feel so stuck lately and it looks like the answer is that you may be holding on to everything that's holding you back. Holding on because it's comfortable, it's safe even if you've grown to hate it. Y'all don't seem to be listening to yourself at all? Not listening to your soul, your true desires. All the real parts of you look to be really hidden or buried. I'm getting this image of someone playing wack-a-mole and I think that's what it's like for you and your more genuine instincts. You keep trying to figure out what you want or who you are, while simultaneously trying to push down who you are and what you really want. Damn, babe. It's no wonder you're fuckin exhausted all the time. The way out of this will be different for all of you, but what I'm seeing for advice is to start with what you do know is or isn't you deep down. Whatever just popped in your head right then (if anything) that would probably be a good place to start. Why though does it feel like some of y'all don't want to get more in tune with yourselves? There's like a lot of resistance to this message? There's quite a bit of discomfort around your genuine self, isn't there? For those of you that this is the case, don't be too hard on yourselves. It's okay to take this slow, maybe let yourself sit with and warm up to the idea of being your genuine self before pushing yourself to do anything. For those of you who are not so uncomfortable with it, I'm hearing that journaling may be a good thing to start (ha, some of y'all are rolling your eyes at that) While it may feel a lil weird, it would really help you fully understand what you're thinking and feeling.

random ass vibes: lightning, metal music, lizards, bible belt, gardening, fog, bubble gum, naps, 12:12

if you liked this reading and would like to support my broke ass, feel free to use the lil tip thingy at the bottom of the post

#tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #Spotify #free tarot #free tarot reading #pick a picture #pick a card reading

[pxltown]

hi!! i was wondering if u could tell me wcif the route 66 sign and the blue baseball hat from this post

https://www.tumblr.com/pxltown/721410638147125248

thank u!!! 🤍

hi!! the sign is from this set but it seems to have been deleted 👁️ you can find the baseball hat here!

#wcif #retro-plasma #pxl.msg

[tripp-zum-superbowl-2024]

Good Morning from Las Vegas,

Hier ist es jetzt 6:06 Uhr und ich kämpfe etwas mit dem Jetlag und bin seit 4:30 Uhr wach.

Ich musste mich jetzt auch erstmal wieder etwas in den Blog einarbeiten. Ich werde jetzt immer erst die Bilder posten und dann den Text dazu. Dadurch steht der aktuellste Text ganz oben und die Bilder folgen dahinter, finde ich schöner zum lesen.

Außerdem gab es hier leider technische Probleme, so dass ich erst jetzt schreiben kann.

Wir sind gestern von Barstow nach Las Vegas gefahren. Es waren ca. 160 Meilen und wir haben knapp 2,5 Stunden gebraucht. Auf dem Weg sind wir noch einer alten Geisterstadt vorbei gekommen. Hier konnte man noch die Eingänge der alten Mienen sehen. Die Landschaft war einfach Atemberaubend. Berge, Wüste, unterschiedlichste Vegetation und die Straße ewig gerade aus. Wir sind die Interstate 15 gefahren. Die Strecke ist ein Teil der ursprünglichen Route 66, die es aber offiziell nicht mehr gibt, sondern sie wurde in verschiedene Interstates aufgeteilt.

Kaum kommt man über die State-Grenze nach Nevada, kommt schon das erste Casino-Resort. Danach kommt erstmal wieder nicht viel, bis sich plötzlich Las Vegas am Horizont erhebt.

Die Fahrt rein nach Las Vegas ist jetzt nicht gerade schön und unsere Erwartungen wurden erstmal nicht gerade erfüllt, denn schön ist Las Vegas erstmal so gar nicht. ABER, sobald man dann auf den Strip kommt, ist es der reinste Wahnsinn. Es ist noch Eindrucksvoller als in den Filmen. Ein erstes, kleines Highlight war dann aber der kurze Besuch im Dispensary :_) Naja, so heissen hier die Shops wo man komische Gräser legal kaufen kann :-)

Unser Hotel, das Mirage, ist riesig und hier pulsiert das Leben. Es ist ein gigantisches Casino mit vielen Restaurants, Bars, Geschäften, etc. Hier gibt es eigentlich alles.

Ronny und ich waren dann erstmal was essen. Er musste dann noch ins Hype-House von Bromance und etwas arbeiten und ich habe 1 Stunde im Gym geackert, war dann in der Sauna und habe mir dann eine Massage gegönnt.

Danach habe ich 100 Dollar verspielt, aber im Handumdrehen zurückgewonnen. Nach knapp 2 Stunden Blackjack hatte ich dann 200 Dollar Gewinn. Mann muß hier aber gewaltig aufpassen. Der Wechselkurs am Geldautomat ist eine Frechheit und hat mich insgesamt 40 Dollar gekostet, dadurch ist mein eigentlicher Gewinn nur bei 160 Dollar, aber immerhin. Mit dem Geld werde ich jetzt immer mal etwas Zocken :-) Aufpassen muß man aber auch, weil, wenn man an einem Tisch sitzt uns spielt, sind alle Getränke kostenlos. Auch Gin-Tonic, Bier, etc. Das machen sie, damit die Leute noch mehr spielen. Die Mindeseinsätze an den Tischen erhöhen sich aber auch während man an dem Tisch sitzt. Die versuchen einem das Geld aus den Taschen zu ziehen. Hier darf man definitiv nicht betrunken spielen und man muss immer aufpassen. Ansonsten ist hier alles extrem Teuer.

Das Essen beim Japaner war dann aber ein echtes Highlight. Super lecker. Also an gutem Essen fehlt es einem hier definitiv nicht.

So, das war alles recht viel für den ersten Tag. Jetzt gibt es erstmal Kaffe, dann etwas Sport, eine Beautyanwendung und dann mal sehen was der Tag bringen wird. Da es heute nur regnen soll, werden wir eventuell Shoppen gehen, ehe es um 17:00 Uhr ins Stadion geht, wo die sog. Eröffnungs-Pressekonferenz sein wird. Damit fällt dann der offizielle Startschuß in die Superbowl-Woche.

Also, schaut Euch die Bilder und Viedeos an und wir lesen uns am Ende des Tages, bzw. Morgen früh.

Howdy

[gulli-on-tour]

Nach einer kurzen Nacht ging es dann am Dienstag früh perfekt zum Sonnenaufgang los über die Route 66 durch die Berge, Steppen und Wälder von Nevada und Arizona zum Grand Canyon. Auch wenn die Tour wegen der langen Fahrt und dem frühen Aufstehen anstrengend war, hat sie sich definitiv gelohnt, das Ambiente war herrlich.

[byneddiedingo]

Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster in Sweet Smell of Success (Alexander Mackendrick, 1957)

Cast: Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis, Susan Harrison, Martin Milner, Jeff Donnell, Sam Levene, Joe Frisco, Barbara Nichols, Emile Meyer, Edith Atwater. Screenplay: Clifford Odets, Ernest Lehman, based on a novel by Lehman. Cinematography: James Wong Howe. Art direction: Edward Carrere. Film editing: Alan Crosland Jr. Music: Elmer Bernstein.

What do Sweet Smell of Success, His Girl Friday (Howard Hawks, 1940), Sullivan's Travels (Preston Sturges, 1941), and The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) have in common? They are all among the critically acclaimed films that, among other honors, have been selected for inclusion in the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress. And none of them received a single nomination in any category for the Academy Awards. Sweet Smell is, of course, a wickedly cynical film about two of the most egregious anti-heroes, New York newspaper columnist J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) and press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis), ever to appear in a film. They make the gangsters of Francis Ford Coppola's and Martin Scorsese's films look like Boy Scouts. So given the inclination of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to stay on the good side of columnists and publicists, we might expect it to shy away from honoring the film with Oscars. But consider the categories in which it might have been nominated. The best picture Oscar for 1957 went to The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean), a respectable choice, and Sidney Lumet's tensely entertaining 12 Angry Men certainly deserved the nomination it received. But in what ways are the other nominees -- Peyton Place (Mark Robson), Sayonara (Joshua Logan), and Witness for the Prosecution (Billy Wilder) -- superior to Sweet Smell?  The best actor Oscar winner was Alec Guinness for The Bridge on the River Kwai, another plausible choice. But Tony Curtis gave the performance of his career as Sidney Falco, overcoming his "pretty boy" image -- in fact, the film makes fun of it: One character refers to him as "Eyelashes" -- by digging deep into his roots growing up in The Bronx. Burt Lancaster would win an Oscar three years later for Elmer Gantry (Richard Brooks), a more showy but less controlled performance than the one he gives here. Either or both of them would have been better nominees than Marlon Brando was for his lazy turn in Sayonara, Anthony Franciosa in A Hatful of Rain (Fred Zinnemann), Charles Laughton in Witness for the Prosecution, and Anthony Quinn in Wild Is the Wind (George Cukor). The dialogue provided by Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman for the film crackles and stings -- there is probably no more quotable, or stolen from, screenplay, yet it went unnominated. So did James Wong Howe's eloquent black-and-white cinematography, showing off the neon-lighted Broadway in a sinister fashion, and Elmer Bernstein's atmospheric score mixed well with the jazz sequences featuring the Chico Hamilton Quintet. Even the performers in the film who probably didn't merit nominations make solid contributions: Martin Milner is miscast as the jazz musician who falls for Hunsecker's sister (Susan Harrison), but he hasn't yet fallen into the blandness of his famous TV roles on Route 66 and Adam-12, and Barbara Nichols, who had a long career playing floozies in movies and on TV, is surprisingly touching as Rita, one of the pawns Sidney uses to get ahead. As a director, Alexander Mackendrick is best known for the comedies he did at Britain's Ealing Studios with Alec Guinness, The Man in the White Suit (1951) and The Ladykillers (1955). His work on Sweet Smell was complicated by clashes with Lancaster, who was one of the film's executive producers, and after making a few more films he accepted a position at the film school at the California Institute of the Arts in 1967, where he spent the rest of his career.

#Sweet Smell of Success #Alexander Mackendrick #Tony Curtis #Burt Lancaster

[nyctophiliq]

Hello! By way of introduction, I’m a 28 year old bisexual woman, and I have no particular gender preference. I would be interested in an Overwatch matchup. My MBTI is ISTJ, and my zodiac is Libra. Personality-wise I’m pretty reserved and can certainly be aloof, but I warm up pretty fast, even if I sometimes show I care in unusual ways. I’m a pretty smart and analytical person and am pretty knowledgeable about a lot. I can also get pretty passionate and enthusiastic about my interests. I’ve also been told I’m pretty witty and have a good sense of humor. I’m a fairly classy woman, dressing fairly elegantly, regularly going out to see ballets, and in fact trying to learn opera as a hobby. Appearance wise I’m about 5’7”, decently muscular, with light skin and long auburn hair and brown eyes. I think I’m running out of room, so hopefully that should be enough information!

your match-up and star messenger is . . .

COLE CASSIDY (estp) !

you are the "cocky and the diva-ish" couple

it's no matter what moment you have first caught cassidy's eyes, every time he looks at you for a little while longer, letting his thought wander. he can't help the thought of spending a lifetime with you, marrying you, and settle down if you wish to. he is a gentleman when he wants to be and his mouth doesn't just let snarky remarks out.

you both are sensing personalities, you tend to focus on the present and base decisions on logical thinking but you might prefer to follow a plan and be alone while cassidy loves connecting with others and seeking new experiences. but all of this doesn't mean he doesn't love to part take in your witty comments, battle with you until non of you can take each other seriously, and burst out laughing.

no matter how many times you corrected him before or called him stupid, he still thinks you are complimenting him someway somehow, he is delusional like that. no matter how stupid he acts he always finds a way to charm his way back into your heart so be ready. he cares in unusual ways just like you, no matter what crazy idea might pop into his head to make you feel better or just show his love, you can count on it that it will be both funny and touching.

you both are thinking personalities and address disagreements logically, as surprising as it is cole really does have a smarter side to him. resolving conflicts, real conflicts, and not the mouth karate you already do on a daily basis will be easier to do than you might imagine. while you might need some alone time to work through your issues because of your energy levels, you can expect him to be there at the end to settle the matter.

some aspects of your relationship would be:

teasing fights about who is the hotter shit, but in the end, you reserve him into a pile of ash by the end

picnic dates !!! you would think he wouldn't do anything so romantic like this but he is, and man it's good !

trying to get him to clothe up nicely whenever the two of you go out together, he might look all hot dressed up like his cowboy self but he would look even better in a suit or proper pants

"your eyes shine brighter than my mechanic arm, darling'"

MEETING EACH OTHER !

version 1

you were working at route 66's diner, serving pancakes for a living, and even if it was long hours, having to smell frying oil all day, and listen to the earful customers that came in it was still paying for your apartment and food. you did not complain too much, you had no real reason to because everybody has a bad day. then he waltzed in, with his stupid cowboy hat and gun on his belt, a cocky smile plastering on his face as he took one of the booths you were assigned as the server to.

"penny for your thoughts beautiful? a stack of pancakes on me for you while you are at it."

version 2

blackwatch was deep in the murky waters with the US government wanting to disband the squad and with overwatch, even if they didn't really want it, supporting the idea. that's where you came into the picture, the person who could potentially turn around the fate of the operational group for the better. you came in, taking them apart member by member and when it came around to be cole cassidy, it was troublesome to keep up with his smart comments, but you can't say you didn't have the most fun with him out of the other members.

"cole cassidy, but you can call me whatever you want darlin'...."

YOUR SONG IS . . .

hot blooded by foreigner !

#📼 › moss tapes #overwatch match up #match up #match up event

[banditlights]

Polen ist eindeutig zu Nass!

Heute morgen sind wir noch im trockenen los gefahren....

Aber schon nach 50 Kilometern war es Zeit für den Teletubbies...

Und den haben wir auch den ganzen Tag nicht mehr ausgezogen....

Irgendwann haben wir beschlossen von Polen gen Süden in die Slowakei zu fahren um dem Regen zu entgehen.

Wer konnte auch ahnen, dass in der Slowakei Feiertag ist und wir nix zur Brotzeit bekommen 😭😭

Die Entscheidung wurde trotzdem belohnt... Kurz vor Feierabend sind wir noch einen wunderschönen Pass gefahren bevor wir an der Unterkunft angekommen sind.

Zu Abend gegessen haben wir dann im Route 66. Einem Ami Steakhouse in Liptovský Mikulás.

Auf dem Weg zurück zur Pension wurde ich von der Polizei angehalten. Vor lauter Panik hatte Peter direkt reisaus genommen als er die Jungs von der Rennleitung gesehen hat... Dabei wollten die nur fragen wo ich hin will und warum ich durch die gesperrte (aber für Anwohner freie) Straße fahre....

Jetzt gibt's erstmal Bier auf den Schreck!

[acetraveler]

Utah, Part Two

Peggy Sue's 50's Diner is located outside of Yermo, CA. If you aren't familiar with Yermo, then look up Barstow and go east. This is one of many attractions you can find on Route 66. If you're from Memphis, the Elvis memorabilia may seem a bit familiar.

A cowboy hat was an item on my checklist. Unfortunately, none of the ones offered here fit my large noggin. But it was fun to try them out.

There's a Lipton Iced Tea pitcher that was awesome, but there wasn't any room in my car for such a large item. Maybe I'll make my way back here one day to buy one!

But wait, there's more...

At the back of Peggy Sue's Diner is a Diner-Saur Park. Being a Middle Child Millennial born in 1989, my mind kept singing the Jurassic Park theme song alongside the Mr. DNA monologue.

In Baker, CA there is a franchise unlike any other I've yet to see. An Alien Jerky pit stop.

There's nothing more to it than the theme. But that's precisely why you would stop here; for the snacks and the logo. Also, near the jerky stand is the world's largest thermometer. There's even a YouTube video about this!

I realized there's this road just outside of Baker called Xxzyx Road. This is claimed to be one of California's biggest open secret. The short of it is that a fella opened up a bath house on the edge of an empty lake bed. Something something mineral properties that are supposed to heal you. It has a strange history that several people have created videos over and written about.

Not much is being written here because this road isn't a primary focus of this blog. If you want to know more, check out the linked video and article and expand your search from there.

I didn't go the whole three miles to the bath house. Instead, I took this opportunity to film parts of this landscape. It just feels like an alien landscape, and I was far enough away from I-15 that it was completely silent.

While I doubt the existence of extraterrestrials out here, it's different enough from the Bay Area that the imagination goes wild.

A decent hour or so was spent out here. Followed by a backup of I-15. Which was very strange to me. I think there was an accident or something? Or maybe that's just a daily occurrence.

Apparently you can only upload 30 pictures per post, so that's going to be it for this part of my road trip. Please enjoy this and the first part while I do my best to remember what happened next.

#lgbtq community #travel blog #traveling #California #Peggy Sue's #Route 66 #Zzyzx Road