Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
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AnasAbdin
todays bird
Kiana Khansmith
if i look back, i am lost
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@gcldbuckle
#GCLDBUCKLE dependent blog associated with redfordrp. a collection of twisted morality, the brutality of a man who'd rather break than bend, fists clenched around things already slipping, a name that demands more than it gives, the art of surviving at any cost, and the price of living long enough to regret it. written by kika
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open / the guilded night
"Nope. - no.. i don't.." ezra wouldn't necessarily have said she ripped her hand from their grasp, but there had been a certain, startling finality to it as she stepped back, corralled back in by the surging crowd. another gesture an attempt to persuade them otherwise. I don't dance... Something something hips -- questions and unwanted encouragements shattered within the sound of the surrounds. would her ears ring forever after this? would she spend the rest of her life thinking she'd suddenly become ailed by tinnitus? or would a split second decision to join her friends become a hauntingly life changing choice? she'd have put money on the latter. another damp cold hand paws at her, tugging her back into the fray of what she can only assume is this clubs excuse for a dancefloor. all she sees is entirely too much gyrating and misplaced purchase. "two left feet, clumsy." small words, minimal syllables. maybe it'd get through the sphere of noise a little easier - until recognition in the person slipping by from within the crowd fills her lungs with stale, putrid air, "my friend - they're, they're not well.. i'm uh," she's forced to pull away for a third time as the stranger reaches for her hand, "no, no dancing.. i already told you that."
he caught it before it turned into something uglier - the way her voice got swallowed, the way hands that weren't hers kept trying to claim space that didn't belong to them. he moved without thinking, cutting through the crowd. his hand closed firmly around the wrist, reaching for her, stopping it mid-pull, grip brutal and unyielding "she said no" the man hesitated, and jett didn't let it stretch. he stepped closer, crowding him back a half step, eyes locked in a way that made it clear there wasn't a second warning coming
that's when security pushed in - hands at jett's shoulder, trying to peel him back, voices cutting through the noise in sharp fragments that didn't quite reach meaning. he didn't fight it outright, but he didn't give easy either, body still angled between her and the man, like that part wasn't negotiable. he finally let himself be pulled a step back, shrugging off "hands off me dude" he shot back, rough, not looking at them so much as through them. his attention snapped back to her almost immediately, the rest of the room falling out of focus "ya okay?"
♰˚‧⁺ open ˏ event starter .
oh, but how she loved a party. all of the grey, the drudgery of day-to-day, made to slink away under hot lights and that heavy, synthetic bass. allegra feels it penetrate her now; the resonance between her breasts, in her belly, and moving down and down— “ welcome in, kittens, ” she drawls with volume from atop the bar, eyeing their guests as they trickle through. in truth and in past, allegra’s aim had been to make a lark of every moment. she knew very little of pedestrian struggle, of one’s need to escape. for her, life was an amusement, always. and she would conceive of pleasures when there were none to be found. but things had changed, hadn’t they? and if this night was for pretending, well. who was she to deviate? “ leave your troubles at our door, ” cheekily, flung into the crowd. with gimlet in hand, allegra wiggles down from her mock-throne. she decides she will enter the fray, perhaps in search of something colorful she might bring back to her nephew. and once integrated, sets her eyes on the first lone figure she can corral.
“ evening, honey. is there, uh, something we … something i, can do for you? ”
jett had been leaning off to the side, half in the shadows where the light didn't quite reach clean, watching the room like it was something to be measured rather than enjoyed. his attention shifted when she dropped down from the bar - his gaze followed, not shy about it, studying her like she was something he hadn't decided the use of yet. by the time she reached him, he hadn't moved much, just straightened, bottle hanging loose in his hand, expression unreadable except for that faint edge of interest that slipped through
"playin' host tonight?" he asked, shifting his weight just enough to face her proper, voice stripped of anything friendly "hell of a show ya'll put on" a faint exhale left him, something between a scoff and a thought he didn't bother finishing "that confidence or ya just countin' on people bein' that easy to handle?" he added, softly tilting his head
closed starter: jett + tessa / @thirdbarrel
location: the guilded room
the nightclub's floor pounded under his boots, bass working its way up through bone and nerve while the room blurred in flashes of light and bodies that didn't matter. jett cut through it, eyes already locked on her before he got close enough to speak
"ya know" the man said once he approached "at least ten folks in here told me they find ya intimidatin'" admitted, a faint edge of amusement pulling at his lips, that characteristic predatory grin. he took a drink, slow, eyes still on her over the rim of the glass, before he lowered it "can't say they're wron'"
closed starter: jett + nadia / @dutybled
location: the guilded room
the bottle of dom pérignon hung loose in his hand, condensation slick against his fingers before he tipped it back, taking a long pull he didn't even try to enjoy. he grimaced as it went down, jaw tightening "whole damn fair burns to the ground, 'n they answer it with a fuckin' party" his thumb dragged across his mouth, wiping the taste. a short, humorless breath left him as he offered the bottle toward her "it was 'em. if there's still doubt in that pretty lil head of yers, ya ain't lookin' hard enough"
he didn't sit still long - pushed off the railing, paced once, twice, like the space wasn't big enough to hold what was building in him. jett never swallowed things down, never learned how, and it showed in the way his shoulders stayed tight, like he was bracing for something, that primal anger "this don't sit right" he said, gaze snapping back to her "now's when ya tell me i'm paranoid" he went on, voice roughening, not quite a challenge but like a plea "but ya can't, right?" his eyes held on hers "cause i ain't imaginin' a damn thin'"
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closed starter: jett + lane / @unlwful
location: the guilded room
jett stood angled into the bar, one boot hooked against the stool, the other planted; he meant to stay awhile. he picked up a bottle he didn't recognize, turned it just enough to read the label, then set it back "tell ya what" he said, a faint crease settling between his brows "i'd rather ya were pourin' the booze 'round here" he tipped his glass back, taking a sip, letting the burn sit before exhaling through his nose "too much european bullshit" the man added, almost to himself, thumb tapping once against the side of the glass
he shifted closer, just enough that his voice didn't have to fight the music. the room moved around them - bodies, lights cutting through smoke "how's that switch treatin' ya?" he asked, eyes settling on her "ya're used to runnin' the room, decidin' who gets what, who stays, who don't. now ya're in it with the rest of 'em"
cash had been near the bar all night, keeping to himself on purpose. of course his uncle's here, and of course he was doing his best to avoid him. he really thought he was in the clear since it hadn't happened yet. but that was apparently too good to be true.
"god damn," he muttered, so that no one could hear once he had caught jett's attention. he swiftly got up before his eyes glanced at the pile of cash before landing on him. "still hustlin’ like you got somethin’ to prove?" he remarked with a teasing tone, trying to keep it friendly as he grinned at him,
cash then grabbed a cue from the rack, "figured you’d have cleaned out everyone in here by now," he added, "or had run outta folks dumb enough to keep sayin’ yes." at least he wasn't one of them, though maybe he was the sucker now. "let’s see if you still got it, old man."
jett had his back half turned to the room, bent over the table as he racked the balls himself - no rush to it at all. the wood clicked sharply under his hands, one ball nudged, then another, tightening the formation. he didn't look up when cash came closer, but something in his posture shifted, like he'd already taken him into account without making a show of it. the cue rested easy against his shoulder as he straightened, palm sliding once over the felt, smoothing it out "boy" he said finally, tone easy "ain't got nothin' left to prove"
his gaze dipped to the cue in cash's hand "just can't stand losin'" a faint scoff slipped out of him, not unkind, but not gentle either. he nudged the table with his hip, stepping back just enough to open the space, eyes never leaving him "still ya end up right here. reckon that's either real bad luck or ya finally grew a spine" he teased, rolling the cue once in his hand, tilting his head toward the table, a flick of something almost amused passing through his expression "go on, then" he suggested with a nod "let's see if ya're still all talk"
a stillness lingered onto natalya and her every move, away from the mc or any sordid business, slowly trailing along jett across a green pasture. careful hands carried a rifle that once belonged to her father, fit for hunting along his old friend.
even as dark eyes glanced between trees and bushes for fresh prey, the brunette wandered back to jett, carefully studying a man she no longer knew. could she trust their agreement? deep down, natalya knew it would be foolish, yet he reminded her of a simpler time, when she still had a family.
the hushed sounds of his voice quickly brought her away from those memories. boots still onto grass as natalya slightly raised her rifle. it wasn't a tricky shot, but there was beauty in the simplicity of it. " when have i missed, old man? " dark eyes locked onto the deer, an intersection of body, beneath its neck yet close to where lungs were.
before it could bolt, natalya's index finger pulled the trigger. a loud noise echoing through trees once the animal fell upon a patch of grass. " seems like we have dinner... "
the shot cracked through the morning, and jett felt it in his chest more than he heard it, scattering birds out of the trees in a rush of wings. he didn't move, didn't breathe, just watched the deer fold into the grass, his own rifle still half raised before he let it drop slow at his side. a breath slipped out of him, there was something almost approving in the way he nodded, glancing her way "sharp shooter" not praise, not really, but close enough
he stepped forward then, boots pressing the damp out of the grass as he passed her, shoulder brushing softly. by the time he reached the animal, he dropped into a crouch, hand settling against its side, feeling the last of the heat still caught under the hide "ya got any idea what kinda fine they'd slap on us if some game warden came ridin' up right now?" the man asked, a soft curve tugging at one side of his mouth that didn't quite make it to a smile
"off season, no tags... reckon that shot might've just cost ya a real pretty penny - worth it though" a beat "c'mon" jett said, a flick of his head calling her over "dinner ain't dress itself"
location: the rattlesnake bar
the crack of the cue ball echoed through the rattlesnake bar, sharp enough to turn a few heads. jett leaned in slowly, lined it up, sending the eight ball gliding straight into the corner pocket with a final knock. game over; just like that. a few groans circled the table, a couple of curses under breath, but he barely acknowledged any of it. instead, the man straightened, rolling his shoulder once, the win cost him nothing at all. there's a stack of cash sitting near the rail - messy, tempting. he pulled it in with one hand, thumbing through it quick, not even counting, didn't need to, he already knew he'd come out ahead
glass in hand, he took a slow sip of his whiskey, dark eyes scanning lazily across the crowd like he was flipping through options on a menu he wasn't impressed by. the bar had that usual late night vibe, dim lights, sweat, cheap cologne, people pretending they had more to lose than they actually did. jett set the glass down on the edge of the table, cue resting against his shoulder "alright" he called, voice low but sharp just enough to hook attention "who's next?" a beat, then his gaze settled on someone in the crowd, chosen "ya, over yonder" he said, nodding his head, a predatory grin on his lips "c'mon, don't go playin' shy on me now. let's see if ya can last longer than the last poor bastard"
Charlie wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. He knows his appearance in town, his very existence, has thrown his father for a loop, scrambling to catch up. He’s had to come to terms with the fact that whatever movie-like reunion he could have drummed up in a childlike longing for a father figure was not going to be the case here. He wasn’t a kid anymore, Jett was closer to a stranger than a father, and Charlie would have to work for it if he wanted that to change. He’s still getting used to how much family he’s got here; he’d just lost his mother, the only family he ever really knew, only to show up in Redford to numerous family members. It’s a whirlwind, that’s for sure, a double-edged sword - he’d gotten his wish, but what was the cost?
He can sense his father before he steps forward, he’s got one of those demanding presences that Charlie isn’t sure he has, yet another thing to come to terms with - how different they were. He smiles, though it feels a little tight on his face. “You do own the place,” he jokes, closing up his station, done for the day. Good timing. “I’m just finishing up. Was gonna head down to the ranch, check on the horses. Wanna join me?”
"still ain't an excuse to scare the hell outta the staff" jett playfully replied, a soft smirk tugging at his lips as his gaze scanned slowly across the store. he didn't miss a thing - shelves lined up tight, glass clean enough to catch a man's reflection, everything sitting right where it should be. that kind of order mattered to him more than whatever numbers were coming in, though those weren't hurting either. hiring charlie was one of the few calls he didn’t second guess. the kid showed up, put in the work, kept his head down - rare enough to be worth holding onto.
"yeah, let's do it" a beat "ya should stay for dinner" jett wasn't used to it, wasn't used to needing something to stick. but this this mattered. he wanted the time, the space to figure him out, to build something that didn't feel like it was already slipping through his fingers "if ya're up for it. just don't expect 'nythin fancy. i can keep a folk fed, but i ain't no michelin chef"
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closed starter: jett + natalya / @natalcyas
location: live oak pasture
dew clung to the grass, silvering the edges of a land that still felt half asleep, and every step carried that ghostly, brittle crunch that traveled farther than it should. jett moved more slowly because of it, weight set careful through his boots, breath held just shy of visible in the cool air. the rifle rested firmly along his hand, but his dark eyes were doing the real work - cutting through brush, reading breaks in the pattern, the slight wrongness of something that didn’t belong to wind or stillness. then it showed itself. not all at once, just a shift, a shape easing out from the line of trees, head lifting, ears turning. whitetail, alert, close enough to matter, far enough to miss if you got it wrong
the man stilled without thinking, his rifle coming up just a bit "there" he breathed, the word more air than sound. that was his only focus: the space between them and the animal. he shifted just enough to give her the angle, not taking it for himself, but not stepping away either "it's yers. and ya better not miss it"
"you know, being bred for something doesn't suddenly make it alright, it can still be cruel," he points out, shrugging just so because sure he'd see his point, but it didn't mean theo had to find himself agreeing so readily with it either. "and i don't doubt any of that, for the record. but doesn't that mean you should probably treat yourselves better?" he laughed quietly, faintly amused by this entire thread of thought. "how many tend to get injured in these kinds of games, then?"
he nodded just a little, unsurprised his thoughts were correct, and despite the dirt covering the mans hand, theo doesn't pull away when it meets his own. "depends on your definition of small town, and how much you're judging a book by it's cover right now," he smirked just a little, but waved off a moment later. "i'm from london, moved to the states when i was fifteen and never settled since. so i won't say your judgement isn't earned either, but i've worked in various areas all the same."
"cruel is just a word folks use when they ain't got dirt under their nails, buddy" in a way, none were asking for mercy, not the man, and not the bull. they meet in the middle. that's the whole truth of it "they break, sometimes bones, sometimes worse" no drama in his words, just a truth been handled too many times "once a rider steps in there, he already knows how it ends, just don't know when"
"london huh" he said, almost to himself, not quite mocking, not quite impressed either. curious, if anything "men don't end up here unless they're runnin' from some shit or toward it. which one are ya?"
she watched him step closer like she’d expected it. most men in redford either leaned away from the rivera name, or leaned in too fast trying to prove they weren’t afraid of it. jett decker didn’t quite do either. He hovered somewhere in that dangerous middle ground — the kind of man who knew better and still stepped forward anyway. interesting. her eyes flicked briefly to the bills as he tapped them against his hand, but the real shift came when his tone changed. the teasing was still there, but something underneath it had sharpened. reckon that ain't easy for ya too, bein' a rivera 'n all. valentina didn’t interrupt. she let him say it. when he admitted he hated coming from one of the founding families, her gaze softened just enough to show she was actually listening — not judging, not dismissing. just weighing the words. then the corner of her mouth curved again. slow. knowing. “careful,” she said quietly. her boot nudged the dirt once as she shifted her weight, leaning back against the gate now like she had all the time in the world. the arena announcer shouted something over the loudspeaker as the next bull slammed into the chute, metal rattling violently. she barely glanced toward it, her attention stayed on him. “if people around here hear you talkin’ like that,” she continued smoothly, “they might start thinkin’ you’ve got a rebellious streak.” a pause. her head tilted slightly, studying him the same way she might study a witness on the stand, looking for the crack in the story. “but i get it.” those four words were quiet. honest in a way the rest of her tone rarely was. “families like ours,” val said, voice calm but edged with something older than either of them, “they hand you a legacy before you’re old enough to know whether you want it.” her gaze held his steadily. “and everyone expects you to carry it like it’s a privilege.” a faint smirk returned. “even when it feels more like a leash.” another pause, just long enough for that admission to land between them. then she glanced toward the chute as the gate burst open and the rider exploded into the arena, the crowd roaring instantly. valentina looked back at jett. “so,” she said lightly, folding her arms along the fence rail again as if the moment hadn’t just shifted into something personal, “sounds like we’ve got more in common than you expected when you took my money.” her eyes flicked to his pocket where the two hundred now sat. the smile that followed was sharp and amused. “be a shame if that made you nervous.”
"people 'round here already got plenty to say 'bout me" he admitted with a half smirk as he tilted his head, easy, one shoulder lifting in a half-shrug "ain't too worried 'bout addin' to it"
jett wonders, briefly, what it looks like on her. not the name, not the confidence she wears like armor. the rest of it. what it costs her to carry it the way she does. what she had to learn early, what she had to bury to make it look that easy. whether there's ever a moment she sets it down - or if she even knows how anymore. if the expectations sit quietly on her shoulders or press in the same way they do his. if she fights it or if she's already made peace with it. if there's anything that actually rattles her. what makes her genuinely happy
"'n yeah, ya ain't wron'" his voice drops a fraction, rougher now, less teasing for a second "the fun part is ya can be the one to break the pattern. get rid of the bad juju and family curses" a faint huff of a laugh slips out "can't imagine 'nythin' cooler than that"
then - nervous. that's what pulls the grin back, sharper now, more wolfish, like the moment of vulnerability never happened "nervous?" he repeats, low, the word doesn't quite fit in his mouth. his gaze flicks to where she's folded against the fence "darlin'..." his hand comes up, not touching, but hovering near the rail beside her like he's bracing there, caging the space without actually trapping her "i took yer money, ain't nothin' 'bout that makes me nervous" a beat. his eyes never leave hers "'sides now i have a good excuse to get ya that drink"
his gaze flicks toward the arena as the roar of the crowd rises sharp and loud- it doesn't hold him long. it never does. his attention finds her again just as quick "but i'll tell ya this, ya startin' to sound real comfortable thinkin' ya got me figured out" a soft shake of his head "'n that's usually when folks make their first mistake"
open to anyone in town.
location: the rattlesnake bar
it was almost second nature for her to smile and call out whenever she heard the bell ontop the rattlesnake bar clink to signal a newcomer. "take any seat that's open, i'll be with you in a second." she called over her shoulder, placing the glass she'd been drying on the rack and throwing the towel over her shoulder.
"what can i get you?" her upbeat nature came with ease. though it was a stark difference to the ambiance that had fallen over the town since the recent event.
then again, there was a group of men in the corner who's voices travelled. "ignore them, they're betting on what and who was responsible for what happened at the rodeo and far." she paused, shrugging. "—unless you've got theories."
"a date with adriana lima" jett teased as he took the stool at the bar, nodding toward one of the bottles "but yeah - reckon bourbon'll do" the voices in the corner carried, too loud, too eager. betting. guessing. circling something they didn't understand. long fingers drummed once against the wood, then stilled, tension coiling in the line of his shoulders
"got plenty" he admitted with a soft scoff "just ain't feel like feedin' the room" his gaze slid past her, landing on the men without turning his head fully, something cold settling behind his eyes. then back to her again, softer by a fraction "been hearin' nothin' but fuckin' questions since it happened. kinda loses its charm"
closed starter: jett + adelaide / @redfordmuses
location: decker's ranch
he hadn't meant to go digging. truth was, he'd been looking for something else entirely when he came across it - tucked in the back of a drawer in the old office, buried under paperwork no one had touched in years. it stopped him cold. he turned the ring over in his hand, thumb dragging along the band, worn smooth by years of use. it just sat there, heavy in a way that had nothing to do with weight. jett found adelaide in the hallway not long after, closing the distance without much thought "found this in the office" he said, didn't dress it up or soften it, just held it out between them "it was yer father's. figured ya'd want to keep it"
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closed starter: jett + charlie / @gravemist
location: red ridge supply
jett shouldn't have come in and felt it the second the door shut behind him, the bell gave him away, but leaving would've been worse. so he stayed, moving slowly through the aisles with no real purpose, fingers dragging over metal shelving just to have something to do with his hands. his dark eyes kept pulling back like a bad habit - tracking the kid without meaning to, picking up on the details he didn't want to recognize. real familiar, too damn close, almost a mirror. when the boy looked up and caught him in it, the man held his gaze for a second anyway. he pushed off the shelf and walked over, boots heavy against the floor, stopping just a few steps away "ain't out here stalkin' ya" jett admitted, half apologetic "was in the area 'n wanted to check"
"hm, maybe next year? do you happen to take rainchecks at all?" the blonde asked in a sarcastic manner. "i don't want to sound cocky and saying i'm smarter, just wiser in how i like to spend my hard earned coin," she corrected the older decker. "techically, i'm off duty for tonight and would much rather keep it thst way," savannah remarked before glancing over to the rest of the bull riders. "to answer your question, pretty sure more than half of em'. guess you can consider it job security."
he reaches for a worn cloth tossed over the fence, dragging it slowly across his face, wiping away the mix of sweat and dust that's settled into his skin. he works it along his face, over his neck and hands "rainchecks huh? mm guess i could make an exception, lon' as ya don't take too lon' cashin' it in" he drops the cloth to his shoulder "off duty in a place like this? that's bold" he admitted, nodding his head slightly "ain't help folks when they need it part of that doctor oath thin' y'all got?" jett teased, boot hitting against the floor
