#hello helium balloon

[autumwalks]

Do you boil the soup thoroughly

Of course

[riptidesfrogtopusstar]

-hands you a balloon-

*she starts going off the railing a bit then just. clings to it lol*

[wandaluvstacos]

bridgerton fundamentally does not understand how hot air balloons work and this is very upsetting to me.

[blondgirls-world]

57 Reasons

TW: Meanspo

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

-Fading Obsession: Pro Ana Mia Website plus Forum (fadingobsessions.com)

[sacredxnight]

hello!! i just wanted to say that i absolutely adore your beautiful artwork - your style is gorgeous, from how you paint clothing and your colors, your most recent modern au stuff makes dimitri look like the love interest from a romantic drama show with how handsome u draw him 🥺🫶 i get so excited whenever i see uve posted new art (im the person who said i sounded like a deflating helium balloon seeing ur most recent artwork in ur tags.. sorry for the essay LOL) and how beautiful ur art is is rly inspiring!! hopesmitri's hair in particular is so hard to wrap my head around despite being my fave, and u draw him so wonderfully!! thank you for sharing your beautiful art with the world, i hope you have a wonderful day 🫶

Hi!! Thank you so much for the wonderful ask, sorry for getting back so late! Your helium balloon tag made my night when I saw it, it was really sweet!! I'm very humbled that you're inspired by my art ahhh, I wanted to show my thanks by drawing you a super quick timeskip Dimitri (sorry for the scratchy quality!!) -- much better art is coming soon!! 🫶 thank you again 🩵🩵

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VIII ║ Silver Pony

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 7: Fleabitten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 9: Warmblood }

Rating: E

Summary: And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, grief, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.5k

Notes: Here we are, the penultimate chapter of Palomino. I had the last scene in mind since the very beginning of the series, actually putting it into words has been so emotional. Thank you as always for your patience and your love for this series, I'm eternally grateful that you're still with me as we wrap up this beautiful journey cowboy Jack and his Darlin' started almost a year ago ❤️

P.S. Please excuse typos and any mistakes as I had very little time to edit with the husband ill this weekend.

Coaxing Scotch to a halt at the end of the track - the last lookout point before the trail slopes downhill and homeward - you let the leather reins slip long and loose as he stretches his neck and shakes out his mane with a low nicker. 

A hundred feet drop below, between the palomino’s ears turned forward in anticipation, is the Statesman Ranch in all its glory, nestled in the fertile valley of green pasture, with its winding creek and red roofs. You can see tiny people milling about, the stables busy in the middle of the afternoon, and horses grazing in the fields bracketed by white picket fences.

Out of the corner of your eye, Whiskey comes to a stop next to you, close enough that your knee bumps into Jack’s. 

You keep your gaze on the ranch below as you ask half-jokingly, ‘Is it too late to turn back now?’

He chuckles, and you twist towards him, your own lips curling. ‘I believe we had this exact same conversation the first day, darlin’.’

It’s not too late to back out, you know.

Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy.

You don’t even realise you’ve fallen quiet until his calloused hand slides over yours, fingers tangling together. Jack brushes a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm that goes right to the one in your ribcage. 

He cocks his head to one side in a gentle question. ‘Shall we rip off the bandaid, darlin’?’

Knowing there’s no other way around it, you squeeze his hand. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

Jameson is the first to spot the five of you passing through the backgates. The sight of him zooming up the slope with his ears pinned back in excitement has you laughing, the horses nickering hello as his barks echo in the valley. 

It makes no sense really - you barely know this place after all - but something inexplicably comforting and familiar tugs at your insides as you ride through the ranch. Stable hands call out to Jack in friendly greeting and to you with polite ma’ams, between bales of hay being loaded, saddles and tack polished, and the clang of steel on iron from the farrier’s workstation out back. All the while, Jameson trots faithfully by your side, as if he’s known you all his life.

‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special,’ you coo at him and he barks back, tail wagging.

Jack winks at you and says cryptically, ‘Well, you’re about to feel a lot more special, darlin’.’

Sure enough, when the horses clop into the main stable yard, your jaw drops.

‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ bellows Champ with a huge grin on his face, standing in front of the stable doors with hands on his hips, larger than life than ever.

You chortle at the huge Welcome Back! banner stretched over the barn door, complete with over-the-top cowboy themed helium balloons, bumping into each other in the afternoon breeze. You catch Jack rolling his eyes fondly at the scene.

Champ gives Scotch an affectionate ruffle on the mane as he comes to a halt by the wooden post. ‘So - how was it, m’dear? Was it everythin’ I promised it would be?’

‘Everything and more,’ you answer in the affirmative as you dismount, letting him pull you in for an enthusiastic hug.

‘That’s what I like to hear!’ he beams and pats the palomino soundly on the rump. ‘And Scotch? Was he a good boy?’

‘The bestest boy,’ you gush, throwing your hands around the horse’s neck in a hug. ‘He deserves all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Swinging his leg over the back of Whiskey’s saddle and landing gracefully on booted feet on the opposite side of the post, Jack quips, ‘But you’ve already fed him all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Champ chortles. ‘And what about our cowboy? Was he on his best behaviour?’

Jack points a self-righteous finger at his boss. ‘I’ll have you know our guest rated the pack trip a perfect ten out of ten, so I’ll be expectin’ an immediate raise. Ain’t that right, darlin’?’

A loud scoff coming from the stables turns your head, and you smile when Tequila emerges, wasting no time taking his aim at Jack. ‘Hold your horses, Daniels. Pretty sure the food poisonin’ knocks a few points off!’

Crossing the yard with his usual swagger, he sidles up to the other side of Scotch and tips his hat at you, leaning his elbows on the saddle. ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. Good to see you up and runnin’.’

You bite your lip at the mischievous wink he tosses your way.

Champs harrumps indignantly. ‘You have some nerve askin’ for a raise, son! Poppy was madder than a wet hen she heard about that. As you well know, she expects a full report at dinner tonight.’

Jack huffs in jest. ‘I’m puttin’ in a call to my attorney as we speak.’

The banter is spirited and relentless as the cowboys make quick work of untacking and unloading the horses, Champ insisting you shouldn’t lift a finger and talking for more than the three of you. 

When the stable hands take away the last of the bags with your dirty laundry to be laundered, Jack takes a hold of both Whiskey and Bourbon. Clearing his throat, he seems to hesitate for a second, a tick in his jaw, but he eventually nods at you and says, ‘Well. I best be bringin’ the boys in now. Catch you later, darlin’.’

The bottom of your stomach gives out at the catch you later, darlin’, knocking the breath clean out of you, unprepared for the dread that courses through your veins like lead at the sudden prospect of being apart. Your fingers twitch with urgency, wanting to reach out, grab him by the front of his shirt, and cling to him -

Get a grip, woman.

You physically shake yourself out of it, and instead, try to bide your time. ‘Or, you know, if can I help with anything at all -’

Jack clearly catches on to your reluctance, but Champ is insistent. ‘Absolutely not! Now, it’s just gettin’ to four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time to go back to your room, clean up and join us for sunset drinks in a couple of hours. How does that sound, ma’am?’

Jack’s mouth stretches into a reassuring smile that you wish were imprinted into the skin of your forehead instead. With a promise in his eyes that it’ll only be a couple of hours, he leads the chestnut and pinto into the stables.

You don’t even try to hide the slump in your shoulders and your wistful, lingering gaze on the cowboy’s retreating back, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tequila gives you an almost brotherly pat on the shoulder over Scotch’s back. ‘I gotcha, girl.’

Speaking up, he calls out, ‘Hey Champ, Ginger was just tellin’ me that you got an urgent message from Harry, so you better give him a call back - you know how he gets when you don’t.’

The older man flinches dramatically at the mention of his accountant, flinging his hands up in frustration. ‘Damn distillery is more trouble than it’s worth! I better go - you remember your way back to your cabin, young lady?’

Before you can get a word out, Tequila cuts in, ‘Jack can show her the way if she doesn’t, I’m sure.’

The sly reference goes straight over Champ’s head as he bustles off, but not without a polite tip of his hat. Once he’s out of sight, you smile at the cowboy. ‘I appreciate that, Teak.’

He winks at you and spins on his heels to take Scotch to the washing bay. ‘Consider it part of our excellent service at the Statesman Ranch, sweetheart!’

You find Jack hatless in Bourbon’s box, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline, slick with sweat, when you slip in and shut the door quietly behind you.

‘Whatcha doin’, darlin’?’ he asks with a lopsided smile.

Even though you didn’t run into anyone on your way in, you glance around to make sure you’re alone before grabbing him by the open neck of his shirt and tugging him into you. One palm on his cheek, rough with the stubble starting to peek through since his last shave at the Halfway House, you press your lips to his, blood thrumming with the thrill of sneaking around.

You catch the hitch of his breath with a wet suck on his bottom lip and he groans - too loudly in the mid-afternoon quiet. Cheeky hands wander south and grab you shamelessly by the ass, his tongue questing deep into your mouth, and you can feel him hardening against your stomach, drawing a whimper from you.

Pulling back reluctantly, his nose still on yours, he growls. ‘Such brazen behaviour.’ 

Your tongue darts out and swipes the underside of your upper lip, drunk on the taste of him, and his dark gaze follows. ‘I think you like it, cowboy.’

‘Too fuckin’ much,’ he admits with a pained moan and a chaste kiss to your temple, nose in your hair, as if to calm himself down. ‘You should go clean up, I need to finish up here and you’re distractin’ me.’

You pout, laying your cards on the table. ‘But I miss you.’

His gaze warms at your admission, and he stoops to kiss you again. ‘I know, but it’s only for a little while, okay? I’ll come ‘round your room to pick you up at six.’

‘Fine,’ you reply begrudgingly. ‘Be quick, ok?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he teases and swats you on the bottom playfully as he herds you towards the door. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’

Taking two steps down the corridor, you look back one last time at Jack, who’s still watching you from the stall, leaning on the top of the door. When he blows you a lingering kiss, the thought strikes you unbidden -

If it’s this hard leaving him for a couple of hours.

Feeling the tell-tale sting in your nose and the prickle of tears at your eyes, you push the thought out of your mind - 

You put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.

You didn’t realise how much you missed civilisation until you surprise yourself with the longest sigh under the rain shower. Head bowed under the steady stream, you take your time, lathering yourself until you’re cocooned in olive scented bubbles before rinsing, relishing the firm water pressure soothing the knots and soreness lurking under your skin.

But there’s a deeper ache, one that can’t be reached from the surface.

You have literally not been apart from Jack for the last four days. You’ve been showering together since the Halfway House, for crying out loud. It hasn’t taken you more than the stretch of an arm to catch his hand, or the turn of your cheek to find his lips.

A laugh bubbles in your throat as you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. The word codependent springs to mind.

Standing in the middle of the room in just your underwear, you sort through the clean clothes that are folded neatly on the bed. Pulling on the prettiest top you brought and the same pair of jeans you wore on your birthday, you dig out your makeup bag and settle in front of the vanity, putting on a Spotify playlist and humming along as you get ready for dinner.

One second you’re blending in your foundation, then the next - liner in your grasp and poised over the corner of your eye - panic rudely sets in.

What if -

What if the chemistry between the two of you was conditional on forced proximity?

What if Jack was only attracted to you because there was literally no other woman for miles and miles?

What if -

You startle at the knock on the door. 

It’s deja vu when you pad across the oakwood floors on bare feet, your heart threatening to thunder out of your chest when you twist the knob clockwise.

Jack is leaning on the doorframe, freshly showered himself, damp locks curling into his forehead. The yellow flannel he’s wearing is new to you, but not the way the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, over his sunkissed forearms.

For one moment of madness, you want to sink your teeth into the thick, sinewy -

‘What is it, darlin’?’ he asks, amused by your scrutiny.

You shrug, fingers fidgeting with a touch of shyness. ‘Just thinking about the last time you were on this doorstep.’

‘When you were swept away by my good looks and charm?’ he quips, arching an eyebrow.

You let him have this one, teasing, ‘Something like that, cowboy.’

Straightening up to his full height, he pulls you in by the waist so that you’re almost standing on the worn leather tips of his boots, the span of his palms warm on the small of your back. He doesn’t even bother checking over his shoulder before brushing a tender kiss on your lips, and it takes you right back to that first time in the field of wildflowers at dawn.

And you just know, in your heart of hearts - there is no what if.

In the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, the sunset hour demands nothing short of worship. Miles and miles of grassland, trees and summer blooms become altars dipped in bronze at which to prostrate oneself as the sun sinks, rejoicing at the rapture of the end of day.

Whilst not as transcendent as what you experienced on the trail, the last sunset over the ranch is giving as good as it gets. The sun gilds the fields in gold on its descent as the stable hands bring in the last of the horses for the night while the swallows fly home above. The river that winds through the ranch is ablaze with the refracting light, and across the yard, you can hear the impatient whinnying of those waiting for their supper. 

Jack and Tequila are setting up the barbeque and firepit, the orange glow of the twin flames taking the place of the fading daylight. The familiar scent of burning wood grounds you - you’re feeling a bit out of practice being the centre of attention after being alone with Jack for the past week.

Ice cold lemonade in one hand and buffalo jerky in the other, you smile when Ginger approaches with a hug. ‘I’m sure you’ve had to answer this question about fifty times today, but how was it?’

‘You want the short answer or long answer?’

‘I want a dissertation if you have it in you!’

You sneak glances at Jack over Ginger’s shoulder while you chat, and he watches you back from afar as he bustles in and out of the kitchen, always trailing two steps behind Poppy. You catch snippets of their conversation as they go back and forth, and you pick up enough to know that she is grilling him on the ‘food poisoning’ incident. He shoots you puppy eyes every time he passes by, which makes you grin.

You may or may not have been a bit distracted by the cowboy when Ginger asks, ‘So, did you catch Jack washing in the river in the end?’

A violent cough racks your entire body as you choke mid-swallow, and she chuckles, giving you a comforting pat on the back. ‘It’s ok, girlfriend - I don’t have to know!’

You knock back more lemonade and choose to play coy. If only she knew.

Champ is in his element, swapping out your drink for a whiskey soda as the dusk deepens and making sure the snacks platter is topped up with locally made boar and elk salami. Despite only having half an ear in the conversation while he keeps an eye on the dinner prep, he’s somehow still fully invested, and is particularly interested in the photos and videos you’ve been taking on Jack’s DSLR.

‘And that’s what you do for a livin’, young lady?’ he asks, putting on his reading glasses so he can study the photos downloaded onto your phone.

‘Adjacent. I’m in marketing, I do quite a lot of business-to-consumer social media campaigns,’ you explain, switching to Instagram to show him your employer’s profile. 

Champ turns to Ginger. ‘Do we have the social media?’

She exchanges a fond smile with you. ‘No we don’t, boss, but we do have a website. I think it was last updated in 2012.’

Champ holds his chin between his thumb and index finger thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, m’dear? Should we get the social media?’

‘It depends,’ you answer truthfully. ‘If you want to boost occupancy, social media will definitely help connect new guests, and also encourage repeat visits. But if you asked me, I think the real potential is on the distillery side of the business.’

Champ perks up under his cowboy hat. ‘I’m listenin’.’

You tap the bottle of Statesman whiskey that’s sitting on the barrel table. ‘Jack told me that you only handle wholesale orders right now, which is perfectly fine. But if you want to go direct to consumers one day, social media is the way to go. I’ve worked with vineyards and gin distilleries, so I’ve seen how effective these campaigns can be.’

Humming pensively, Champ sips at his whiskey, neat, a faraway look in his eyes as he mulls over your words. ‘Well, that’s somethin’ to think about, I’d say.’

There’s no other way to end the trip than with a western cookout. The barbeque station is packed with trays of beautifully cut and aged meat from neighbouring ranches, sausages and brats, while the smoked brisket and ribs that have been cooking all day are brought out from the smoker in the kitchen. 

On the side, a picnic table draped with a chequered table cloth is crammed with baked beans (smoked in-house), corn on the cob, pasta salad and soda bread; and on the greens front, there’s homemade coleslaw, potato salad and greens freshly picked from the vegetable patch.

It’s a feast of epic proportions, and it doesn’t surprise you at all that Poppy is pulling out all the stops.

Jack mans the barbeque under her supervision, wielding the tongs with showmanship, and your heart purrs at the familiar sight of him cooking by firelight as darkness well and truly sets in. You feel slightly adrift not being by his side, but Champ is keeping you entertained and well fed, piling seconds upon thirds on your loaded plate despite your protests.

By the time Teak takes over at the barbeque and Jack makes his way towards the communal table where you’re all standing, you’re sipping slowly on your third whiskey and soda. You smile at him over the brim of your tumbler which he returns, and your body leans unconsciously towards him, before remembering where you are. He tucks his right hand into his back pocket, and you want to think that it’s because if he doesn’t, he would reach out for you.

Being denied his touch when he’s right there has you shifting your feet restlessly. Your fingers itch for him, there’s an insistent prickle under your skin that you know he alone can placate.

You venture a peek at Jack, wondering if he’s faring any better than you are. Feeling your eyes on him, he turns to you, his gaze dropping to your mouth none too subtly, the muscle in his neck tensing. Caught in the moment, all you want to do is to run your tongue down the hollow of his throat and taste the smoke on his skin -

You look away in case you do anything rash.

You’re barely holding it together when the conversation moves on to your birthday at the Halfway House.

‘And how was the dinner?’ asks Poppy animatedly. ‘Did you like the cake?’

Despite yourself, you beam, ‘Like it? I loved it, thank you so much! I was so spoiled.’

‘Did Jack show you a good time?’

‘Oh I should say so,’ cuts in Tequila despite being six feet away at the barbeque. At Jack’s glare, he quickly adds, ‘He decked out the place real nice, y’know, with balloons and shit.’

With a shake of your head, you chuckle, ‘And he dressed the horses up in birthday hats and tinsel!’

With the barbeque dying down to a low, simmering flame, Poppy slides in a couple of peach cobblers in pie dishes directly onto the embers to warm up. Leaving behind gravy-stained plates stacked up high on the barrel table, the group drifts over to the low-set deck chairs sitting in a tidy circle around the firepit. 

Emptying the last of the whiskey into his glass, Champ calls out, ‘Jack, m’boy, how ‘bout you run to the cellar and grab us another bottle of the fifteen years?’

‘Sure, boss,’ he replies, hanging back and catching your attention. ‘You wanna come look at the cellar, darlin’? It’s quite a sight.’

Champ is delighted. ‘What an inspired idea! Take your time, young lady, it’s not quite the distillery cellar, but we’ll save that for next time.’

Teak gives you a two-fingered salute and a knowing wink as Jack leads the way. ‘Enjoy the tour, sweetheart!’

Jack barely waits until you’ve turned the corner behind one of the barns before backing you up against the wall. You taste whiskey and woodsmoke on his tongue as he pins you in place with his broad frame, and you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.

‘I missed you, darlin’,’ he whispers against your lips.

‘I was standing right next to you, cowboy.’

‘I know,’ he whines. ‘Took everythin’ to keep my hands to myself.’

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you reach up to brush an errant curl back from his eyes. ‘Me too.’

Jack grabs your hand and takes you on what must be a shortcut to the kitchen, since you don’t recognise the route. Practically dragging you down a flight of steps at the back, he lets go of you only to pull open a heavy oak door. Your eyes widen when the orange lights flicker on, stepping into the cellar lined with hundreds, if not thousands of bottles, floor-to-ceiling shelves nestled into stone arches carved into the walls. 

You wander the perimeter of the room, carefully pulling out dusty bottles high and low to inspect the years printed on the labels, but Jack is having none of it. Face nuzzled into the nook of your shoulder, he grinds his half-hard cock into you impatiently, calloused palms sliding under your shirt and squeezing your tits through your bra.

You moan, the sound echoing under the low vaulted ceilings. ‘What are you doing, cowboy?’

‘Want you now,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, teeth catching the sensitive skin.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ you ask, a laugh caught in your throat as he ruts against the cleft of your ass needily, a shudder rippling through you when you feel just how much he wants you through the denim.

‘It’s the change in altitude,’ he rasps, dry humping you in earnest now, his fingers fumbling with the front of the zipper. ‘And you’re really fuckin’ sexy in these jeans.’

‘Such a sweet talker,’ you tease, reaching behind you to undo his pants. ‘We got to be quick.’

He yanks the front of your jeans down so hard the movement jolts you forwards, flipping the denim inside out and dragging it down to the middle of your thighs, your panties going with them. His question is hot in your ear. ‘Want me to use protection, darlin’?’

You don’t skip a beat with an emphatic, ‘No.’

‘Fuck,’ he growls at your one-worded answer. ‘Lettin’ me fuck you bare? I’m one lucky cowboy.’

Your pussy throbs at his words alone, and you gasp in surprise when Jack manhandles you to the middle of the room, where a row of aged barrels rest on their sides, elevated on a sturdy shelf to keep them off the floor. He bends you unceremoniously over one cask so that your front is pressed up against the curved wooden surface, then, kicking your legs apart and notching the head of his cock at the mouth of your cunt, he sinks into you in one determined thrust.

‘Jack!’ you cry out, voice hoarse, filled almost painfully full, suspended on the tips of your toes as he plants his feet and drives into you, pulling out to the tip before plunging all the way back in, so deep you feel him in your throat. His breath is harsh and hot on the shell of your ear, but you can’t hear him over your own cries.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he croons throatily, his jeans rubbing the back of your thighs raw as his grip on you bites into your sides, holding you in place as you writhe. ‘Such a good girl, lettin’ me bend you over like this, takin’ me so well.’

Nails skidding over the wooden grain of the barrel as you scrabble for something to hold onto, you mewl, ‘Yes, yes, yes, feels so fucking good, cowboy!’

The slap of skin on skin bounces obscenely off the walls, and between the buck of his hips and his groans, you hear the slick squelch of your pussy stretching for him.

It seems to spur him on, and he snaps harder into you, rasping, ‘Look at you naughty thin’, lettin’ me fuck you in the middle of the cellar when anyone can walk in.’

Only then does it hit you - the absurdity of having fucked your way across the open country on this packtrip, taking for granted the liberty of literally screaming to the high heavens, free from prying eyes and ears. Juxtaposed against the sudden and very real prospect of getting caught, your body instinctively reacts.

Jack feels you clench wetly around his cock, a choked chuckle halfway in his throat. ‘Fuck, you filthy girl, you like that, don’t you? Want someone to walk in on us when I’m balls deep inside this pretty pussy?’

Your back arches, and he slides in so deep you’re sure you’ll be feeling him for days after, even when you’re a thousand miles from here. ‘Yes, yes, yes sir -’

The next thing you know, he’s gripping your hair and pulling, making you watch him over your shoulder. His eyes are black, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, and he’s gone - he’s thrusting recklessly into you, and you have no idea how your spine hasn’t snapped from being bent so far backwards. Then one rope-worn palm comes down on your right ass cheek in a cracking slap, making you gag on a half-groan, slick trickling down your thighs at the sting.

Jack leans over you now, caging you between his arms, his soft kisses on your neck an antithesis to the uncompromising rhythm at which he’s pounding into you. He coaxes, ‘Gonna cum for me, darlin’?’

Two of his fingers nudge between your legs and you whine when they make landing on your swollen clit. You nod desperately, clawing at the smooth wooden barrel under you. ‘Yes Jack, please make me cum. Please.’

‘Don’t you worry, you will,’ he says matter-of-factly, smearing mouth and tongue down the side of your neck. ‘You can do it. Make a mess on my cock, c’mon, darlin’ -’

When you clamp down around him, it takes Jack everything - everyfuckin’thin’ - not to let go and pump into you, fill that tight little cunt as you wail his name, quaking and squirming in his grasp. Air doesn’t quite reach his lungs, and he’s biting so hard on the insides of his mouth that it swells instantly, wanting so badly to mark you, to possess you in the most primal way a man can -

With a strangled groan, he pulls out, but only just - he’s already cumming before he can even wrap a fist around his cock, spurting crudely all over the swollen lips of your pussy and the curve of your ass as he milks himself dry, shudder after shudder. His spend drips so prettily down the back of your thighs, stopping just short of staining your jeans, that he goes light-headed for a moment. He sways, and if not for you grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a lazy kiss, he probably would’ve keeled over.

He looks down at the mess he made, crooning into your ear, ‘You’re so beautiful covered in my cum, darlin’.’

You squeak, startled, when he runs this thumb down your slit, still so slick and wet for him, and he has to fight the urge to fucking scoop up his cum shove it into you, filling you only to have it drool out of you when he holds the pretty lips open -

He feels your eyes on him, like you can tell what he’s thinking. He winces, shame rearing its head as he apologises, ‘I’m sorry, I got carried away. Was it - too much?’

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you pull him down for another kiss. ‘Never. I’ll take everything you’ve got, cowboy.’

Jack somehow has a handkerchief in his shirt pocket, which he brandishes with a flourish, prompting a giggle from you. ‘A gentleman if I’ve ever seen one.’

With a playful smirk, he declares, ‘Damn straight - my mama raised me right.’

Gently, Jack cleans you up, and you’re happy to let him do all the work, your body heavy and sated. When he’s done, he swivels you around and presses his lips to your temple. ‘Come back to my house tonight, darlin’?’

You tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in deeply. ‘I’d love to, cowboy.’

He’s carefully folding up the soiled handkerchief and tucking it into his back pocket when you hear footsteps on the stairs, and the two of you have barely pulled up your jeans when the door swings open.

There’s a dramatic pause as Teak takes in your dishevelled state and none too guilty faces. Looking distinctly unsurprised, he bursts into laughter nonetheless. ‘The cellar? Is nothin’ sacred to you heathens?’

The cookout winds down over bubbling hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream that Teak collected from the freezer in the kitchen on the way back. It’s pushing ten o’clock when Champ calls it a night, and you all help with bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers inside.

Poppy and Ginger make quick work of putting all the food in tupperware and into the fridge. Jack and Teak load up the dishwasher as you finish off the last of your drink.

Champ dusts his hands, as if he’s the one who’s done all the tidying up, and asks, ‘Your flight tomorrow isn’t until afternoon is it?’

You nod, passing Jack your empty glass. ‘Yeah, I need to drop off my rental truck as well, so I think I’ll have to leave around eleven.’

He pats you on the back. ‘Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow mornin’. Have a good night’s sleep, young lady.’

‘Say goodbye before you go,’ adds Ginger, giving you a peck on the cheek.

‘Dinner was incredible, Poppy, thank you,’ you smile as she pulls you into a warm hug.

The redhead winks at you. ‘My absolute pleasure. I’ll fix you a little takeaway lunch to go tomorrow for the journey home. No plane food allowed for our guests!’

The kitchen empties until it’s just you, Jack and Teak, with the latter grinning at you two like a lunatic. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. ‘So you guys wanna hang, or -’

‘Get the fuck outta here, Teak!’ Jack growls.

The taller cowboy ambles over to you, joints loose with alcohol, and gives you what can only be described as a bear hug. 

‘Just try keep it down, will ya? It’s real quiet in the valley at night and some of us have to work early tomorrow,’ he ribs with an insolent wink. ‘Guess we won’t see you lovebirds at breakfast?’

‘Not if you’re there,’ Jack retorts, to which Teak flashes a good-natured middle finger and saunters off into the night.

Jack draws you into his arms and you slump against him, relieved that you’re finally alone. ‘Shall we, darlin’?’

His fingers curl securely around the back of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of yours as he closes the kitchen door behind you. It strikes you this is actually the first time you’re holding hands - there was no need for that when you were in the saddle, or camped in close proximity. 

Your cheeks stretch with a smile so wide that the muscles ache. The mundanity of walking side by side, hand in hand, shouldn’t be this thrilling.

It’s quiet other than the grind of gravel under your boots and Jack’s heavier ones. The night air is sweet, the blanket of stars above you just as magical, but it’s not quite the same kind of stillness at the lower altitude. Perhaps it’s the way the sound travels with buildings and other people around, maybe the very physics of it is fundamentally different.

Turning into the parking lot, your attention is piqued by a handsome motorcycle parked all on its lonesome next to the main lodge.

Pride in his voice, Jack says, ‘Darlin’, meet the Silver Pony.’

You know nothing about motorcycles, but you can appreciate the sleek lines, the classy tan leather seat and the retro elegance about her as you circle it. Her silver paint job gleams in the lonely porch light. ‘She’s beautiful, cowboy.’

‘She’s an old girl but she got good bones. I restored her myself,’ he proclaims proudly, before admitting, ‘And well, Teak helped too.’

Opening a little cabinet attached to the side of the main lodge, Jack pulls out a helmet that has you laughing. It’s painted red white and blue, stars, stripes and the full monty, with the word WHISKEY painted across the front in bold formation.

He grins at you. ‘Found it in a yard sale. Too good to pass up.’

Lowering it over your head, he tightens the strap carefully under your chin. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do for a short ride. Blinking up at him, it brings you back to that first day in the stables, and you feel the same pull that you did when he fitted you with your hat.

Except this time, you can do something about it. Standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, you giggle when your helmet slips and knocks into his forehead with a clunk.

Putting on his own sensible black helmet, he plants his left foot by the side of the bike and swings his right leg over the leather seat. 

You’re taken aback by the spike in your pulse at the sight - you’d think that having seen him on horseback all week would have prepared you for it. But there’s something about the way he leans over the top of the motorcycle, thighs wrapped around the metal body, forearms flexing as he grasps the handlebar. 

Starting the ignition and knocking back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot, Jack nods at you. ‘Hop on, darlin’.’

You do, and you don’t need to be told to hold on tight.

The Silver Pony purrs to a stop outside a modest cottage, about a ten-minute cruise from the ranch, down a short dirt track from the main road. It’s pitch black except for the headlights that illuminate an unexpectedly floral front garden. You hop off and take off your helmet before Jack kills the engine, plunging you into a very familiar darkness.

Switching on the light on his phone, he reaches for your hand and pulls you gently to his side, his solid warmth welcome even though it’s nowhere as chilly as it was up on the mountains. Flashing the light towards the front yard, he tells you, ‘Ginger has quite the green finger, this is all her work. It took some time, but the vegetable patch is just startin’ to come through this season.’

Keys jangling, Jack unlocks the front door and ushers you inside, flipping on the lights. 

It’s a cosy space, not big by country standards, but more than spacious enough for one cowboy. It’s clearly a man’s house, with a distinct lack of decorative touches other than a vintage map of Wyoming hanging over a dining table and a crowded bookshelf by the door. Dark wood with orange knots line the floors and ceilings, the warm tones reminding you of nights around the campfire.

Walking through the tidy but lived-in space, you pass an open kitchen with a breakfast bar that backs into the living room. A rustic stone fireplace stands in the corner, bracketed by a cosy sectional with deep seats.

Jack watches you mill about, taking everything in. When you stop by the fireplace, he asks jokingly from across the room, ‘So, what’s the verdict?’

You tease, ‘Not gonna lie - I’m disappointed there aren’t more spurs and lassos on the walls.’

He chuckles and steps into the kitchen. ‘You want a nightcap?’

‘Just water thank you, I think I’ve had enough to drink.’

Filling up two glasses at the sink, he crosses the room to join you at the mantelpiece.

‘How long have you been living here?’ you ask, setting your glass on the shelf after taking a sip.

He takes a moment to reply. ‘I took a long break off work after my wife died, then moved in here straight after. Couldn’t stand bein’ in our house alone - couldn’t bear bein’ there at all.’ He pauses, and his lips quirk with a wry smile. ‘Champ and Teak packed everythin’ up for me and drove it all here.’

His honesty hits you squarely in the chest, the weight of the grief behind his words nearly knocking you back a step. You reach for him, closing the two-step distance and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.

Eyes closed, he lets you anchor him to the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the confession slips right through his teeth. ‘I haven’t brought any women here. Ever.’

He holds his breath as he feels you hold yours. 

You mumble into his chest, ‘You have to stop making it harder for me to leave, cowboy.’

Then don’t. 

The two words are on the tip of his tongue, and for a second, he worries that he actually said them out loud. But he knows he can’t. It’s mad. It’s been a week. It’s not fair on you, not when you have a whole life back in the city, thousands of miles away, and his is right here in the shadow of the Bighorn Mountains.

So he says nothing.

Eventually, you pull back and tip your face up towards him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness lining the seams of your eyes. 

‘Let’s go to bed, cowboy.’

He watches you from the doorway, where he leans idly against the frame, body relaxed from the whiskey sodas at dinner. The curtains are drawn and the light from the bedside lamp soft, casting orange shades on the walls and your skin as you shrug on the shirt he leaves out for you. The last button done, you snuggle comfortably under his sheets, and his heart lurches.

Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind -

You look like you belong here.

‘Are you gonna stare all night, cowboy?’ you tease, sinking into the pillows.

He shrugs and closes the door behind him, shedding his clothes as he goes. ‘Can’t help it, darlin,’. You look good in my bed.’

‘It’s so comfy,’ you sigh happily, watching him strip down to his boxers.

‘It’s just the hard ground talkin’,’ he says, climbing in next to you. Bundling you into his arms and sliding one leg between yours, he kisses you, a deep exhale leaving him as he does. You smile so wide the corners of your eyes crease, and he watches as they land somewhere behind him.

His stomach drops when it dawns on him what catches your attention.

But it’s too late. You sit up, leaning over him and grabbing a hold of it with gentle hands.

You stare up at him. ‘Jack.’ 

He doesn’t even remember the last time he really looked at the photo. It’s there when he wakes up, when he goes to bed. It sits on the bedside table by the lamp, probably covered in dust. 

Untouched.

His silence doesn’t deter you, but your tone is soft, and he understands that you’re giving him an out if he wants it. ‘What’s her name?’

His throat goes drier than sandpaper, and he’s suddenly speaking through a mouthful of cotton. It takes him two tries before he manages to enunciate. ‘Addison. Everyone called her Addie.’

‘Was this taken at your wedding?’

He nods, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

‘Look at you all dashing in a suit, cowboy,’ you hum appreciatively, tracing a fingertip over the smart dark grey tweed jacket with navy accents. ‘Where did you get married?’

‘At her parents’ ranch.’

‘Under this magnolia tree?’

He nods again. ‘It was her favourite spot.’

‘She’s so beautiful,’ you say quietly.

His eyes dart to the photo in your grasp despite himself. Swallowing thickly, he says, ‘She’s buried there now, where she was always happiest.’

At that, you return the photo to its place on the bedside table, almost solemnly. This is usually the point when people stop asking questions, so when you snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly, he frowns in confusion. 

‘What is it, darlin’?’

‘Tell me about her.’

Jack is stumped, flustered at your request. He shifts, sitting up stiffly against the headboard. ‘Like what?’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know. Like - how did you meet?’

His answer is short, factual. ‘On the rodeo circuit. We both worked on the tour.’

You give him an encouraging nudge. ‘And? What was she like?’

‘She -’ he pauses and holds his breath, weighing his words. In the end, it’s the truth that he tells you. ‘She was the best person.’

He stutters to a stop again, but you’re still peering at him, your expression curious and open. He knows you won’t push him, he trusts that you wouldn’t. He could reach out and switch off the light right now, and he knows you’d leave it at that.

But a small part of him demurs. He doesn’t have the words to describe it, but something unsettling and hopeful at once stirs in his stomach, one that is stopping him from cutting short this somewhat unconventional pillow talk.

So he tests the words on his tongue, starting with something small. ‘She was a cat person. All the barn cats loved her, no matter where we went on the circuit.’

Watching the way your eyes smile at the detail, he feels a little lighter. He adds, ‘We literally had cats camping out in our truck, and I’m allergic, so I’d be sneezing and covered in hives on the long-distance drives between rodeos.’

You laugh, and his chest swells with the realisation that he doesn’t remember the last time any mention of his wife sparked anything but sad side glances and commiserating pats on the back - let alone joy.

Over the years, he had let go of her joy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much to mourn her this way.

And the guilt that he did this, took the easy way out, is almost too much for one soul-crushing moment - until you lay your head on his chest, unfurling one hand and pressing it into his side, literally holding him together, rib by rib.

He tells you about Addie. Things he’s been afraid to remember, but even more afraid that he had forgotten. Her likes, pet peeves, where she went to college, her favourite show, her irrational fear of butterflies, her favourite dress, the song that always got her up on her feet dancing wherever she was, whatever she was doing, when it came on the radio. 

You listen, picking up on the way his voice falls back into that beautiful Southern cadence that you have come to know as he remembers his wife, nothing but love in his eyes as the guardedness fades with each memory he confides in you. You pepper the pauses with follow-up questions and playful quips where you’re draped across him, one arm folded underneath you and the other over his waist, but you feel yourself nodding off as the hour grows late. 

He holds you to him, his palm spanning your lower back, until you go quiet.

Jack is tired, his own lids drooping with impending slumber, the sprint down memory lane taking more out of him than he expected. Brushing a kiss to the crown of your head, he rolls you off his front and onto your side, tucking you into the rumpled sheets. Spooning you from behind, he murmurs one last thing on the shell of your ear.

‘She would’ve loved you, darlin’.’

Notes: When I first started this series, I didn't have a backstory developed for Jack other than that his wife died eight and a half years before Darlin' comes on the scene. It's been such an organic and fulfilling journey developing his character and his history over the series, filling in the blanks as we and Darlin' got to know him better.

It's so important to me that his wife and his grief isn't pushed to one side for the sake of easy story telling. I've dropped little hints of his bereavement throughout the series, nothing too loud, but it's there in the background, my way of paying respect to one aspect of canon Jack that touches me very deeply despite the mess the movie makes of his story.

Out of all my Reader! characters, I would say that Darlin' is my most unassuming one. Not in a bad way at all, it's just that she doesn't have as loud a personality as Shiv or Pin, or as dramatic a storyline as Sweetheart. But this chapter, she just really came into her own. That last scene will stay with me forever ❤️

Edited to add a reminder that we still have one more chapter to go before we say goodbye to these two. I’m not ready 😭

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

Hello friends, taking a break from Kali fic today for a little preview of something coming 🔜

“Hey,” TK says softly once they’re alone in the pool. He kicks his feet up and wraps his legs around Carlos’s waist. Carlos immediately tightens his arms around TK and begins spinning them in a small circle.

“Hi,” Carlos says with an easy grin, nosing at TK’s jaw. TK laughs softly, feels so light floating here in his fiancé’s arms, so loved. He brings a hand up to push back the wet curls that have fallen across Carlos’s forehead.

“You look sexy like this,” TK says, voice low so only Carlos can hear. “And you seem happy. Relaxed.”

“I am happy. I’m really happy.”

“I like you happy,” TK whispers, leans in to rub his nose against Carlos’s. “I always wanna make you happy.” He pokes a finger into the dimple at the side of Carlos’s mouth. “Love to see this smile on your face.”

“You always make me happy, baby,” Carlos says, frowning at the questioning noise TK makes in response. “It’s true. Nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do.”

“Happy?” TK quietly questions.

“Not just happy.” Carlos pauses to kiss TK’s nose. “Baby, you make me feel …everything. Safe, like I can tell you anything. And strong and bold. And so incredibly loved. I feel so full of love when I’m with you, TK.”

The words shoot straight into TK’s heart, making him feel like the Grinch when his heart grows ten times bigger. It’s not exactly new information, but to hear Carlos say it sends his heart beating into overdrive. It’s everything he’s wanted for so long, to be with someone who values him, who cherishes him and finds him a source of comfort and safety. To know he makes Carlos feel this way, it’s almost too much, he feels like a helium balloon with nothing to tether him to earth but Carlos’s strong arms around him, ready to burst with all the love he has for this man. He surges forward to plant a desperate open-mouthed kiss on Carlos’s lips.

Carlos pulls his body impossibly closer and for one blissful moment they’re in their own world, just enjoying the feel of each other's lips and Carlos’s hands on TK’s waist and TK’s fingers running through Carlos’s hair.

There are tears on TK’s lashes when they pull apart. He blinks a few times, trying to tame his emotions.

“You make me feel all those things too, Carlos.” He sniffs. “I’m incredibly lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Carlos says, rubbing their noses together again before dropping a soft kiss to TK’s forehead.

Thanks for the tag @heartstringsduet 💕

Tagging @whatsintheboxmh @ironheartwriter @corsage @carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba @chicgeekgirl89 @captain-gillian @literateowl @emsprovisions @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo @orchidscript @honeybee-taskforce @thisbuildinghasfeelings @welcometololaland @eclectic-sassycoweyes @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @firstprince-history-huh @fitzherbertssmolder @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @strandnreyes @paperstorm @filet-o-feelings @fallout-mars @your-catfish-friend @kiwichaeng @tinyluminaryzombie @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @iboatedhere @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower and OPEN TAG 🏷️

[junosmindpalace]

Hello there dear! I was so excited to hear that your requests were open again, your writing is truly gorgeous and perpetrates the characters so well! I understand if you’re busy and prefer to write about jjba as of late, but if it’s not too late would it be alright to request another Senku ishigami fic? He doesn’t get a lot of love anymore and I believe it to be such a wonderful series.. it would be amazing!

hi there anon! thank you so much for your kind words! because you didn’t specify a theme or plot, i wrote an idea of mine instead. i hope that's alright! 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers. He has a knack for amazing and even scaring people with his science projects. His enthusiasm was seemingly boundless, contagious even to those who weren’t as passionate about science as he was. Not many people could usually match his excitement, and a lot of the time he’d indulge in whatever new science fascination he discovered on his own.

Or so people thought.

It didn’t take long for people to learn your name and for it to become commonly associated with his. The two of you spent all your free time working away on projects, from chemistry to tech. You had been Senku’s friend ever since the two of you were young, and growing up together hasn’t changed the fact that Senku always sought you out first to share in his enthusiasm with. 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers, and today was no exception. The door to the science clubroom swung wide open and hit the wall with a loud thud, making the club members turn in surprise toward the door. Senku strode toward a nearby counter, setting down a small metal tank on top as he did so. 

As he walked over, one of the nearby club members turned to him in wonder. “Whoa, Senku. Whatcha got there?”

“Sulfur hexafluoride. A gas six times denser than air. In other words, you turn into Darth Vadar when you inhale it!” 

The club members all gasped in awe, eager to try out the gas themselves. Senku raised his hands up in mock surrender as they crowded around him and smirked. “Y/N’s bringing the balloons. Are they not here yet?” 

As soon as he asked, the door to the science clubroom slammed open yet again. 

“Right here!”

The crowd redirected its gaze toward you holding up a plastic pack of balloons in the air with a proud smile. They cheered as you made your way over, handing it over to Senku. 

He hands over the balloon for you to try first, and the room quiets as you inhale from it. A beat of silence, and then-

“Greetings.” 

Your unnaturally deep voice makes everyone in the room light up and laugh, taking the balloon from your hands to give the voice a try themselves. Soon enough, each member of the club is taking turns playing the part of an evil villain dropping a dramatic line. 

The two of you had already tried out the effects of the gas on your voices at Senku’s place only a day earlier. It was needed for one of your projects, and Senku, knowing you’d get a kick out of it, demonstrated the effects of the gas on his voice as you laughed over how creepy he sounded. You amused yourself with the gas from time to time as the two of you worked. You always kept a balloon in your hands, inhaling into it at the most random times, always making yourself giggle.  And today was no exception. 

As you laughed watching your clubmates entertain themselves with the gas, you skipped over to Senku and nudged him in the side. “So, does that mean helium’s next?”

It’s what he found so endearing about you, your endless curiosity and enthusiasm. He loved being able to share with you his deep love and fascination of science and have you return that same fascination with the exact same energy. He loves watching your face as you observe an experiment he’s done a million times in wonder, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of your eagerness to learn. 

Senku never fails to surprise his peers, and that includes you, too. And out of all the impressed looks he gets, he finds yours to be the one he's always most eager to see.

He grinned, ready to blow you away yet again. “Ten billion percent.” 

[x-hyzenthlay-x]

Haso post and ? Plot twist? Some predator/yaut’ja (is that how you spell it?) thoughts

I was thinking- since yautjas are bigger than humans and in the first movie-ish he like mimicked human laughter do you think they would have deep voices on average? And the females are apparently bIGGER? LIKE BUGS? LIKE HOW FEMALE SPIDERS ARE BIGGER- ?! ANYWAY would the women have like SUPER deep voices? And here is my thought that I posted for in the first place…

Do you think that when they hear humans talking that to them it sounds like we’re just on helium 24/7 like with how we perceive high voices lol

Like what would happen if a human on an alien plant/ship crew breathed in a helium balloon and like some of the shipmates are horrified because “OMG THIS CREATURE IS BREATHING STRAIGHT HELIUM AND NOT DYING?” And the yautja/predator is just like “whAT THE FUCK? HELLO? WHY IS YOUR VOICE HIGHER?

WOULD HE BE ABLE TO HESR IT? OR WOULD OUR VOICES THEN BE THE EQUIVALENT OF A DOG WHISTLE-? I’m so sorry this is probably the dumbest I’ve made of all of my humans are space orcs post but I love the predator movies and I just- I just needed to spew my nonsense for a moment

But like- it’s so funny to think about a human just breathing in a helium balloon to get all the reactions out of the alien crew mates. And then they claim it’s for science lmao

Is it just me or are they kinda hot- LIKE KEEP THE MASK ON BUT UR KINDA RIPPED BUD 😩👀 I feel weird lol I was terrified of these guys when I was like ten

EDIT: this is probably how you sound to them. Person recording is the yautja

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Hello again!

I have another idea for a dialogue if you're still looking for some.

It's for Wolfstar.

So... it's the reader's birthday, and they want to surprise her, they do and she starts to cry because no one has ever done anything like that for her, they start to freak out because of course they don't understand yet, but she explain and it's the sweetest moment 🥰

(This is basically because I haven't celebrated my birthday in years because I have no friends at all, and I need some cute wolfstar cuteness... this was sad... sorry bye 😅)

yeees! this is so precious! 🥰 also, I never celebrate my birthday either, we should celebrate our unbirthdays together 😬 Warnings: none :D pure fluff Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Happy Birthday

You woke up, stretching your body, hoping to find at least one of your boyfriends next to you, but the bed was completely empty. You frowned your eyebrows a little confused, until you heard them on the other side of the door of the apartment you had been sharing for a few months now.

"Sirius! Would you stop doing that? You're going to burn yourself!"

"But I want to help you!"

You chuckled softly when you heard Sirius whine and you slowly got out of bed. When you stepped outside of your room and into the living room, you could see your two boyfriends arguing in the middle of the kitchen. The entire place was fully decorated, breakfast almost ready for the three of you, balloons filled with helium adorning the ceiling, your favorite music playing, a mountain of presents in the corner, and your favorite flowers in every room of the house, with a trace of petals coming from the doorway where you were standing to your room. Remus and Sirius heard the door being opened and look back to see you standing there, bewildered.

"Happy birthday, love!" they yelled with the biggest smiles on their faces. Both of them with flour, chocolate, pancake batter, and whatever other ingredient you could think of all over their faces.

And the only thing you could do was cry. You didn't mean to. Your eyes started welling up and before you could say anything, tears started streaming down your face.

"Princess?" Sirius asked, freaking out before slapping Remus' arm. "I told you the balloons were too much!"

"Stop it, that's not what this is" Remus rolled his eyes, walking towards you. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Do you hate the balloons?" Sirius asked, worriedly.

"Enough with the balloons!" Remus glared at him.

"N-no, it's not the b-balloons" you assured them as tears kept falling down your cheeks even if you tried to stop them.

"What's wrong, princess?" Sirius asked as he and Remus grabbed your hand and walked you over to the sofa.

"I'm sorry" you said, wiping away a few tears, only for new ones to come. "N-nothing is wrong" you assured them, grabbing their hands in yours. "It's perfect" you smiled through your tears. "E-everything is perfect, this is just- it's so..." your words got caught up in your throat. "I wasn't expecting you guys to-"

"To what? Remember your birthday? C'mon, love, give us a little credit, we never forget your birthday" Remus chuckled a little.

"No, I know" you laughed a little. "You always remember, even if I've always told you I've never liked my birthday" you told them. "Y-you didn't have to do all this" you said, pointing at everything around you.

"Well, we know we didn't have to, but... we wanted to spoil you today" Sirius said, kissing your cheek. "We know you've never wanted us to make a big fuss about your birthday but... we want to make a big fuss about you" he insisted.

"When I was little... I used to like my birthday" you started explaining. "But when I turned eight, after dinner, my parents sat me down and told me they were breaking up. I thought they were kidding, but then I saw a suitcase out of the corner of my eye. In the hallway. My dad moved out that night. And my mom never really wanted to celebrate my birthday after that" you said with a few tears escaping your eyes. "To be honest, neither did I so... I started spending my birthdays alone after that" you admitted.

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart" Remus said, pulling you closer to him. You have never told them why you didn't like your birthday and they never wanted to push you. "But you're not alone anymore and... if it's okay with you, we would like to celebrate your birthday like you deserve" he said, kissing your temple as Sirius kissed your hand.

"I would really like that" you said, truthfully. You had spent too much time being by yourself and making your birthday a sad day. Sirius and Remus had always made you feel incredibly loved and now you couldn't think of spending your special day any other way. "I love you two so much" you said, giving each one of them a peck on the lips.

"We love you two" the to of them said before peppering your face with kisses.

"I would still get rid of the balloons if you want me to" Sirius said, earning a smack on the head from Remus.

"Stop it, Siri, I love them" you insisted, before you frowned. "Um... is something burning?"

"MY WAFFLES!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: hope you loves liked it!

[s3l3n3-volturi666]

In The Club

Based on this :⬇

Contents : smut , fluff , Angst (small) , Spencer being protective , FBI/CM Jargon.

I didn't feel comfy doing a Strip Club so did an ordinary club sorry. Hope you still like it!

When Estelle Jackson and the Team are told that to catch the Unsub for this case two people have to go undercover , nerves rise and Spencer tenses up.

Estelle POV:

"Who are the two people undercover?" I ask and Hotch sighs. "You and JJ." He says and Spencer storms out of the Room. "Spencer!" I run after him. I find him sat in a somewhat lit office , overthinking. "Spence. I'm going to be okay , I promise." I kiss his temple and he looks close to tears. "Cry and I end up in tears." I remind him. "I can't lose you. You're my everything , Stella!" He cries out and I hug him to my chest. "I will wear the dress and shoes love me to wear. Will that make up for the stress you'll put yourself through?" I ask and he nods. "Hey , Elle? We need to go get ready for the Undercover Job." JJ peeks her head into the office. "Be right there!" I shout and kiss Spencer briefly on the cheek. "Can we stop by my Apartment? I need my outfit from there." I ask JJ who nods.

(Estelle's outfit :

Not my images you can pick JJ's.)

"You look stunning , Elle." JJ smiles as we head into the club. We head to the Bar and she shows our ID'S. "Rekordelig Strawberry and Lime Cider and an alcoholic Elderflower spritz please , Jacob." I tell the Bartender. He nods and I smile. "3 little birds to my left. " I whisper into the hidden Mic , looking like I was talking to JJ with my head on my wrist. Out of the corner of my eye on our 7th night undercover I spot the Unsub moving in to sit by me. "Hello , sexy lady." He flirts and I chuckle. Unamused. "Hi. What's your name , sir?" I ask and internally vomit. He is SO not my type. "Jason Roberts. What's you and your friends names , Gorgeous?" He asks and I smile falsely. "Persephone Bureau and Aphrodite Bureau." I shrug and he nods , falling for it. I hum softly and sip my drink. "So , Persephone. What do you study at the University?" He asks and I chuckle darkly. "Psychology , Hospitality and Catering , Criminal Minds 101 and Profiling 101. " I list off the subjects that I did and he nods. "Hades and Ares , our Boyfriends of 5 years are over there. Don't worry about them though. We're interested in YOU." JJ says and Spencer glares at Jason who's hand retreats from my personal space. We chat for about half an hour or more and I retain all of the intel."Well then. How about we drink to this acquaintance?" He suggests and I nod as I notice Spencer walking over. "Petal. Let's go to a back room? I want you , baby. " He goes along with the lie and I follow him eagerly. He locks the door and pulls me onto his lap. I grind on him as I tell him all we learnt from our chat with Jason Roberts and he moves my hips faster , I can feel him twitching in his pants as he runs his hands over my body whilst I rock my hips harder than I was. "We should head back out there. We can continue at the Hotel." I promise him and he groans softly , adjusting himself so that his boner isn't visible. We get out there and I notice what Jason did to JJ's drink and mine so I down them both , JJ 's jaw drops and I cuff Jason. "Jason Roberts you are under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of innocent Catering Students. Anything you say or do CAN and WILL be used against you in Court." I feel fuzzy but shrug it off and drag him out to Hotch. I shut the door and feel myself falling to the floor as I begin to feel like a Helium Balloon. "STELLA! ESTELLE! Stay with me! Please! I can't lose you as well! " I hear Spencer sobbing onto my chest as I black out.

Spencer POV:

Jacob walks out and he gasps softly , shocked. "I will testify that Jason drugged both drinks. I'm pretty sure that he made the drugs. He puts the drug in their drinks when they're distracted and kidnaps them once unconscious." Jacob says and I nod , JJ is sobbing into Derek's chest. "She used Bureau as their last names. A clue to me that if anything happened to you or herself and the two gents didn't see to signal to them." Jacob adds and I realise that he's good and trustworthy. "Call an Ambulance!" Derek says but Jacob sighs. "No phone service. Radio to the Aorta Med Centre on the University Campus. Ask for the drug antidote. Jason Roberts was friends with the one who made said antidote. Her name is Talia Black." Jacob walks back inside.

-3 Days Later @ The Med Centre -

She coughs as she shoots upright. I hug her tightly , sobbing into her shoulder. "Don't cry , my sexy Genius." She whispers and I nod. "Doc! Can you send in our team." I ask and JJ gently 'tackles' Stella in a hug and sobs. "Don't cry , Dove. You'll smudge your make-up." She shushes JJ'S sobs and Hotch swats Stella's head. "Don't nearly die on us again. Hopefully Spencer will Shower and Eat now." He says and I shrink down as she raises an eyebrow. "I'll be out in two hours. Go Shower and eat a protein bar in my Hotel Room. Be in my Room when I return. " She says and I scramble out of the Room.

Penelope POV:

"Even Hotch can't get him to obey orders that quickly?! How?!" JJ gasps and Estelle smiles smugly. "He does as I say because he knows that I will punish him if he doesn't." She smirks and JJ's eyes widen as Derek laughs softly , amused. "Punish? How?" He asks and she smirks at him. "With clothing and him not allowed to touch me for a week." She says as she gets out of Bed and I smile at her. "You make him happy , Ellie. Don't hurt him in any way , please." I tell her and she nods. "Now out so I can change into my clothes please." She demands. Joy sparkling in her eyes.

We all return to the Hotel and Spencer is in the Restaurant. Eating. We did get back earlier than we said but oh well. "Hey , Pretty Boy." Ellie walks over to him , smiling softly. "Not going to punish you as you are taking care of yourself." I hear her reassure Spencer. "Stay here whilst we get food. Do you want Coffee , Spence?" JJ asks and he nods , his body language saying that he is uncomfortable about something. "Hey! Are you with him?" A waiter asks and Ellie raises an eyebrow at him. "Yes. Why? What happened to my Boyfriend?" She drops her warm and kind attitude for her cold and calculated attitude. "A woman yelled at him. He seems Overstimulated." He says and Spencer whines , fidgeting with his shirt. "I'll be right back. I am just getting food." Ellie walks off and returns with a trolley filled with our plates and drinks.(They all had image ⬇)

Long Story Short : Estelle Jackson is alive and will nearly die for her Team mates / Family.

Spencer loves Estelle Jackson.

Will we see more of Estelle Jackson and Spencer Reid? Maybe. Maybe not.

[strawbubbysugar]

Hey Hello, what did you do for June and Goodbye for Valentine’s Day? Are you able to keep a valentine a secret from Goodbye until it’s time for him to see it?

:D June surprised us when we woke up!! He got us all of the Valentine’s Day things, a teddy bear, chocolates, flowers!! My FAVOURITE part was the balloon!! He showed us this neat trick, did you know that when humans breathe helium their voices get all WEIRD and SILLY???? It was HILARIOUS!!!

Buhbye and I made dinner for junie as our present!! I’m not very good at keeping secrets, and Mr grumpy doesn’t really like presents either, so I had to not get him anything :((((

[i-will-be-skinny-by-2025]

57 Reasons

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

[0ana-girl]

57 Reasons why not!

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

[bunviiebab3]

♡ 57 reasons i found on an old ed blog from 2004 ♡

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

[iwillsarcasmthemonstersaway]

Hello!

My name is Lorax and I speak for the Trees Irene and I am in cabin 7 😀 (Apollo)

Full name: Irene St. James (biological parent unknown, police chose a last name for her as her mortal parent couldn't be identified, later found out from apollo that her mortal parent's name is Anthony Garett-Park) (NOT MY REAL LAST NAME)

Preferred weapon: bow and arrow

Besties: @yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades (if anyone wants to rp as besties message me though the ask box or dm me)

Pronouns: she/her

(Picrew by @hunbloom on instagram)

Sexuality: bisexual (maybe demisexual?)

Abilities by godly parent: can manipulate light, can blow balloons that float (bc the sun burns helium ig 🤷🤷 idk go ask my dad) (for that reason I am also not supposed to do mouth to mouth), allergic to hyacinths (they only make me sneeze a lot and tear up like onions) (but deathly allergic if I eat them), can infect someone with an illness but only with the use of a projectile like an arrow, can change the way my or other people's voices sound (either temporarily or permanently)

Things I like: reading, rocks, pop and rock music, art, food (almost all of them), animals, murder mysteries, the color purple, accurately written historical movies, Sally Jackson's food

I can also speak Greek fluently (irl too) ask if you want me to teach you a couple of curse words (also if you're Greek irl and in the pjo rp lmk)

Ooc: my main acc is @thisisireneshesoutofcontext and the things I post there are almost completely irrelevant to my real life mostly because nobody I know has a tumblr account 🥲 it's not really popular in Greece

So that's it yall, I am fairly new to this whole riordanverse rp thing so I will not tag any accounts bc I don't wanna forget someone (we are over 100 people that is amazing) but feel free to ask questions in the comment section and in my ask box :)