#ridethebull

[mygatewayclassiccars]

Gateway Classic Cars of Las Vegas is proud to present a 1971 Ford Bronco! This nostalgic piece of off road history is built with the driver in mind, but room for the whole crew! The Bronco painted maroon with black body accents such as a the hood scoop, fender flares, and brand new top. Replacing the bumpers you have a stinger style bumpers, coated with a hammer tone finish. The front stinger is equipped with a mounted 9.5 Warn winch, and Warn front lights. Along the side you will find hammer tone skid bars and step to match the bumpers. In the rear we have a swing out tire carrier in the same hammer tone finish. Powered by a Ford 302ci motor this Bronco's exhaust note that has a mean rumble. This 4x4 has a Ford 9 inch rear held by Selector locking hubs and Rancho Shocks. The 33 inch tires wrap all four chrome wheels giving you plenty of ground clearance but plenty of steerable practicality.

[thecraftyhedonist]

Two sides of the same coin! This blue and gray Iron bull went in the mail today! #ridethebull #theironbull #dragonagedildos #fantasydildo #thecraftyhedonist https://www.instagram.com/p/CD2fZnBJKlD/?igshid=1tnq6p46aivji

[magic-and-dragons]

💋

Luto had had one too many drinks in the tavern. He and his party had just come back from the Hinterlands which for the most part was safe now that the dragon there had been taken care of. And to celebrate, he and The Iron Bull had gone drinking. He should have mentioned that he was a lightweight especially when they were drinking a really strong qunari drink.

The elf was currently zoning in and out of focus, babbling about something. “Mister Bull, you are reaaally cool! The way you went ‘argh!’ and ‘wam!’ when you fought the dragon!” he giggled and leaned over to try and give him a friendly kiss on the cheek but slipped and planted a kiss on this chest.

[nospraedirus]

@ride-the-bull continued from here

So perhaps it was possibly true that Dorian had rather begun to settle into an appreciation for the Bull’s physique, and had potentially been spending quite a bit more time than usual staring at the way the Bull flexed – but that was beside the point! It was the principal of having been accused of being caught staring (which he absolutely had been) that had Dorian puffing out his chest and ruffling his feathers like a particularly disgruntled bird. And the wink that the Bull aimed at him had him sputtering even more, fighting the instinctive blush of embarrassment that threatened to darken his cheeks despite him attempting to keep his dignity despite the situation.

“I’ve not–“ Dorian began in a false start which set him right off his balance despite being usually so well-spoken, “it’s you,” he started again with an accusatory jab of a finger in the Bull’s direction, “you always insist on flexing your muscles – I’ve never said anything about liking it. You’ve just assumed that I– and you–“ Dorian cut himself off, bracing his hand against his forehead as though he could feel an impending headache. He sighed in exhaustion, “you are immensely frustrating. Handle your wood and leave me alone.”

[tavis-of-bannorn]

Confinement

@ridethebull Tavis was making his way towards the healers place when he heard the rumors. No, definitely not rumors. the Herald really did leash the apostates. He overheard soldiers talking about what happened and a deep frown formed on his face, a hand balling into a tight fist at his side. That was the first time he heard the news, and those soldiers were actually celebrating it, which absolutely disgusted him. He was deeply worried as well, what would that mean for him? He was essentially as much of a captive as they were, and what would happen once it was over? He immediately went to the Tavern, knowing full well that the Iron Bull would be there over anywhere else. This time it wouldn’t be for drink and pleasant company. No, he wanted to know what the hell the man was thinking. Pushing his way through the door, he saw the qunari sitting there and his frown deepened. He tried to control his anger, schooling his features with a cold expression but his green eyes were scalding. He sat next to the man, leaning against the bar and a deep sigh escaped him. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by your decision. So, do you plan to put me in chains as well?.” He asked dryly.

[runawaydalish]

@ridethebull

Tavi had started the night at the tavern off subtle, watching The Iron Bull from the second floor, where he wasn’t easily spotted.  It wasn’t that he was spying  necessarily - just curious. He’d never met a real qunari before. Tal Vashoth, yes, but the gossip was that this one was loyal.

He’d sort of expected a loyal Qun follower to spend less time in the tavern and probably drink less, but what did he know. Not enough, clearly.

Normally he’d have stayed subtle but normally he was smart enough not to drink while he was trying to be sneaky. Tavi’s alcohol tolerance was good for his size but when his size was five foot nothing, that didn’t mean much. Three drinks in and he’d come down to the first floor.

Four drinks in and he’d abandoned ‘sneaky’ and was now sitting with his elbow on a table, chin in hand, staring openly. “Where’re you fitting it all?” he piped up after a moment, gesturing vaguely at him. “Or more importantly, how much coin do you have to be buying these?”

[snowball-with-knives]

Aren’t you a little short for a hitchhiker?

@ridethebull

It was finally getting warm enough for her to stuff the oversized jacket through a loophole in her backpack, but the nights were still clinging to the chill too. So a sweater that looked like she’d borrowed it from a giant draped itself too large over an arm stuck out whenever a set of headlights illuminated the Turnpike. Nobody at the poll stations along the highway half-an-hour past had bothered to look or note a single, short figure tromping through the uncut brush along the thriving highway, and she figured she might as well see if she could hitch a ride the rest of the way.  Not like she knew where she was going. Just that she’d stayed a little too long in the last town...Her name was getting around lips she didn’t like. So it was time to shove the laptop in the battered gym bag, whatever clothes she’d had that month and whatever else she could stuff in her bag and hightail it out.  She squinted in the bright headlights of a car that geared down at her thumb propped outward. She thought it was going to stop--but some fuckwad leaned out the passenger side and yelled: “NICE TITS!” cackled like a maniac and spun out.  She flagged their brake lights until she was sure she couldn’t see them anymore.  Cars were flying, lighting up the white paint and making her steps illuminated enough to keep going and not roll into the ditch. None of them slowed down.  Muttering to herself and thinking she was gonna have to roll into the trees to sleep until the day--or find a truck stop--she stuck her thumb out one last time when the headlights of another car came flickering to blinding light behind her. 

[bearmom-blog1]

        maker help the poor training dummies that stood in her way. when she trained, much like when she fought - she was merciless, vicious. every thrust and swipe of the two handed blade deliberate. what she pictured was anyone’s guess, but it filled her with enough rage to sustain herself during these training sessions. she didn’t stop until she felt eyes on her, the kind that’ll critique another, and she had to crane her neck to get a good look at the leader of the chargers.                    ❛ iron bull, ❜ she greets with the faintest smile.                                                                   ❛ you needed something? ❜

( @ridethebull ; sc. )