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not-a-space-alien · 11 months

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Magnanimous Moonrise Chapter 21M

In this chapter: Stimming, and unpleasant secrets come to light

Warnings: Weight discussion, mentions of rape and torture (off-screen)

Story masterpost

Complementary chapter

***

“All right, up you go.”

Still in his pajamas, Valen tentatively stepped up onto the bathroom scale.

Ari scrutinized the numbers. “All right, 73 pounds! You’re getting there, big guy!”

“How much did you weigh before all this?” Lex asked.

“A-about a hundred and ten pounds, I think.” It was a distant memory, not being able to see his ribs, not having sunken, bruised rings around his eyes.

“That’s still on the light side,” Ari said. “We’ve gotta fatten you up.”

“He’s already gained ten pounds.”

“Yeah, it’s a wonder what three square meals a day can do to ya.”

Valen wasn’t used to three square meals a day. Vampires didn’t do three square meals a day. They did one meal a day, and it usually wasn't any particular shape. He’d been positively overwhelmed by the bounty being offered to him. It was hard to get used to after so long with absolutely nothing, but it was a welcome change. “Thank you.”

“Everything okay?” Ari asked, apparently noting something wrong with his response.

He could never seem to answer quite correctly. “It’s just–it’s just been a lot.”

“Of course….You just take it easy. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

He’d been trying to slow his racing mind down to believe that over the past few days, he really had been. It was almost starting to work, now that he could actually get decent sleep, which made everything less overwhelming.

The massive amount of blood he was given every day was also getting him healthy pretty quickly–his healing had sped back up to the point where his legs were already un-broken. He still appreciated a bit of help walking, though, which he readily accepted as Ari helped him down the stairs and into the living room.

“Um…” Ari said, eyeing the coffin. “So…I promise it’s okay…But…”

Valen’s anxiety spiked. Oh no, they’d noticed that Valen had torn up his pillow. Again. Valen had lost track of how many of their bed sets he’d ruined. He drew his limbs closer to himself, face reddening.

Lex spoke before he could. “Oh. We can replace it again, don’t worry.”

Was she disappointed? Angry, but just hiding it? Losing her patience? It was hard to tell. He was starting to get healthy again, and less helpless, but he was still terrified of wearing out his welcome at Lex and Ari’s house before he was ready to leave. Or even worse, the ever-present fear of them changing their minds and calling Nick.

Valen wrung his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep ruining them.” He tried not to cry. “I’m trying not to, but I do it in my sleep.”

“It’s okay,” Lex said, taking his elbow. “It’s not a big deal.”

He broke eye contact.

“I noticed that you grind your teeth and bite things when you’re awake too.”

Valen was so incredibly self-conscious of his mouth, his main weapon for preying on humans, whether in the form of persuasion, or using his very evident fangs to bite and tear. He hated that they were paying so close attention to the way he bit and chewed things. That was one thing humans didn’t really do, bite in a significant way, one thing that would remind them how bestial he really was if he wasn’t careful to keep it under wraps. That he chewed on things like an animal, because he wasn’t human, and maybe not a person, if they changed their minds.

“I’m sorry,” he said, tears spilling over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not–I’m not–”

“Relax,” Ari said, and grounding hands appeared on his shoulders. “We’re just trying to figure out how to fix whatever problem you’re having.”

Right. Of course. Calm down. It was so embarrassingly easy to send him spiraling into panic. He sniffled and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s an anxious habit. It was–chewing on the muzzle was really the only thing I could do sometimes.”

That was a massive understatement. He’d never been a nervous chewer before, but it was practically all day every day for the past few months he’d spent gnawing at the muzzle, the damnable contraption keeping him trapped there, half in hopes of somehow getting it off and half to just soothe himself and get some stimulation that wasn’t painful. Grinding his teeth on the metal bit that kept his tongue pressed to the floor of his mouth had been his only release at times, as he sobbed and screamed and cried hopelessly unable to do anything else. Not to mention all the times he bit down on it because he was gritting his teeth in pain.

Lex smiled at him sadly. “It’s okay that you do that. I don’t think you should try and make yourself stop. Can you open your mouth for me for a minute?”

He tentatively opened his mouth, feeling extremely self-conscious with his fangs, the foremost evidence of his monstrousness, on full display. He didn’t want them to see him as a predatory beast, but he also felt a strange mix of embarrassment: He wanted them to like him, and he was worried that inspecting his fangs would affect their opinion of him.

Lex leaned over and performed some inspection, the criteria of which were known only to her. After a few moments, she asked, “Do you want us to get you a chew toy?”

Valen shut his mouth. “A chew toy…?” Like for a dog? He hesitated–he was so, so nervous to remind them at all of his animalistic nature.

“I bet the kind they make for dogs would stand up to your chewing better. Or we could try and find a binky, or something along those lines.”

But it was too tempting to pass up. “....Yes, I would like that.”

***

Lex and Ari had gone back to work after a certain point. Of course they had–they were working class, it would be hugely burdensome for them to continue to miss work, and Valen was determined to be the least amount of burdensome possible, so he was happy that they went back to work.

But that did leave him at home alone for long periods during the night. He got jittery. Night was safer than the day, but only by virtue of his nature–night had historically been when Nick had taken free reign to do whatever he wanted, when the base was empty since everyone was out on patrol.

Still…it meant there was no sunlight, which was a definite plus. The patch of burned skin on his face and destroyed, shriveled eye where the sunlight had hit him had taken by far the longest out of all his injuries to heal, still being raw and painful long after the others had started to close themselves up. He had no desire whatsoever to encounter the sun a second time.

He tried to pass the time reading, which had always been his favorite go-to passtime. But pretty much every time he did, his brain started to wander off, like a dog let loose in a field. It felt like trying to grab something particularly slippery, and he would often sit there staring at one page and look up to realize that several hours had passed and he’d done nothing but read the same paragraph dozens of times without absorbing a word.

The physical damage was starting to heal, but his ordeal had done more than physical damage to him. When he was alone in the house and therefore not embarrassed to do it in front of Lex and Ari, he would often cry over the loss of the activity that used to bring him the most joy. Hardly anything did anymore, and he tried to grab calmness and happiness like sand running through his fingers. It was almost embarrassing how eager he was for Lex and Ari to come home, so he’d have something to think about besides how damaged and lost he felt.

One day when Valen was lying down in the coffin, halfway between sleep and trying to read, Lex and Ari came in without him even noticing.

“Hey,” Lex said gently, setting some crinkly paper bags down by him. “We got some things for you.”

He leaned over and wordlessly examined the bags. There were several dog toys that looked like they could take some chewing, as well as chew toys for human infants. Binkies, Lex had called them. These things would never hold up under the force of teething vampire children.

And underneath of that–books. Easy books, written for children.

He tried not to let it show how relieved he was by this collection of items. He could tell the chew toys would be a huge comfort just by looking at them, and he could have wept looking at the books–they had pictures of animals. Maybe he could get back to where he’d been before eventually, but…baby steps.

He lifted one out, a picture book about mammals, and opened it to a page about elephants. He remembered the first time he’d learned about elephants. He’d wondered what their blood tasted like, then what they sounded like. They made noises too low in pitch for humans to hear, but could vampires hear it? No one seemed to know the answer.

His eyes drifted over the text, going slow, but taking it in. He slowly ran a hand over the picture, simple and colorful. Gentle. Easy. He grabbed one of the pacifiers and put it in his mouth, chewing it quietly.

***

Valen was still massively underweight, but after a few days Lex started to help feed him. Ari was still visibly unhappy about being fed from, but she did it without complaint, and with Bailey and Jerome’s visits he had four people feeding him–a virtual glut that any vampire nobility would be jealous of.

Valen took a moment to reflect on the irony - in direct contrast to vampires’ typical domineering habits, he hadn’t even sought this out, yet he had four humans willingly and enthusiastically offering him their own fresh blood every day. That was a luxury vampire nobility could not even buy; the closest they could get would be to have four brainwashed slaves following their commands. Valen felt like a god among vampires, despite the fact that he was using toys and books made for human children and sleeping in an unpainted wooden box with a duvet stapled to the inside of it.

Regaining some of his strength went a long way to starting to ease his anxiety about being so completely helpless and at the mercy of the hunters, but he was never able to clear the anxiety entirely. He was still deep in human territory, and Nick was here, somewhere, out there.

He heard Nick on the phone, once, and couldn’t suppress his urge to cower. He buried himself under the covers in his coffin, shaking.

“You’re okay,” Lex soothed, rubbing his back through the blanket. “He’s not here.”

“Does-does he know where you live?” That was the million dollar question. One crucial barrier between Nick and him. His befuddled brain couldn’t remember the fact that they’d already told him Nick didn’t.

“No,” Lex said. “No, he doesn’t, remember?”

Valen found this little comfort, and huddled further under his covers.

Ari finished her conversation and hung up the phone, coming back in. “Nick is still trying to rope someone else into getting a live capture. I think he’s getting desperate, because he called just to tell me the bounty’s gone up again.”

Valen couldn’t stifle the embarrassing whine.

“We’re not giving you back,” Ari said firmly. “We’re not letting him find out you’re still alive, and we’re not letting anyone else take you. You say the word, and we take you straight to the border.”

Valen peeked out from under the blanket. He considered it, he’d been considering it. He could walk again, he was getting steadier on his feet… Still, the thought of being on his own again was scary.

But…

“You were talking to him.”

“Nick? Yeah, on the phone.” Ari didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say.

“And at work sometimes, yeah,” Lex added, as though this were helpful.

How could Valen communicate how unsafe that simple fact made him feel? “You were talking to him like he’s a person and not a monster.”

Lex and Ari looked at each other, then back at him. “He’s fucked up,” Ari said. “But everything he did, he had permission for.”

Valen burst into tears, the entirety of his ordeal hitting him at once.

“...Right?” Ari said.

“No,” Valen wept. “No, no, a thousand times no.” They didn’t know, they truly didn’t know, oh god, he was going to have to tell them. “He came back at night when the compound was empty because everyone was out on patrol. He opened the coffin when he was alone, he broke the rules all the time.”

“What?” Ari growled. “What for?”

“Ari,” Lex said, looking sick.

Valen just sat there and cried, trying to speak but choking on the words. Ari knelt, steadying him and supporting him in her arms. “Breathe, breathe, you’re okay.”

Lex handed him a tissue. He took it, but was still crying too hysterically to use it.

“Let it out, baby,” Ari said. “You’re okay.”

Valen took in great, sobbing gasps, wiping eyes, then blowing his nose. “S–sorry.”

“You’re okay. Let it out.”

His lip wobbled. He grabbed the stuffed cat Lex had put in the coffin, hugging it. “Nick has a shocking sadistic streak that he knows how to keep hidden.”

Ari stood, palming her mouth. “All right. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Lex said. “We didn’t know.”

“He did it all the time. When we were alone. He, he, he would do anything he couldn’t get away with during the day under supervision. Things that–that could have no possible justification. Humiliating things, senseless torture, rape-”

“What the fuck,” Ari said. She was turning a cartoonish shade of red with her anger. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“We need to tell the director,” Lex said, white as a sheet. “He needs to know.”

“We can’t,” Ari said, through gritted teeth. “We can’t do anything with this information without everyone finding out Valen is alive.”

The director was the one who authorized Nick to torture him in the first place. Valen didn’t have high hopes about how that would go even if it didn’t put him in danger from Nick. Valen took one of the chew toys and put it in his mouth, grinding anxiously.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to shoot him as many times as bullets I have, and then I’m going to get more bullets and shoot him some more. They’re going to be scrubbing him out of the carpet for months afterwards.”

Ari’s anger and tone were too much, even though they weren’t directed at him. Valen pulled the blankets back over himself, shaking with fear.

“Ari, shut up. You just said we can’t do anything to let anyone know Valen is alive. And getting yourself arrested isn’t going to help anyone.”

Ari’s footsteps could be heard stomping away, then the sounds of Ari wailing on a punching bag in the next room.

He felt Lex’s gentle hands on him once again. “What do you want us to do, Valen?”

Kill him. The only way I’ll ever feel safe again is seeing Nick’s corpse, watching him die, knowing he’s not out there and can’t hurt me anymore. But of course they couldn’t just go murder him. It was like Lex had said. “I don’t know,” he admitted tearily.

Ari came back in, still breathing heavily. She had a foil package in one hand. “Take this. All of it.”

Valen hesitated, then took the package. It had several small white pills inside. “What is it?”

“Emergency contraception.”

Valen’s panic immediately surged. “You don’t think–It isn’t possible, surely, for a human and a vampire…?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not taking any chances. The whole pack.”

“Will it even work?”

“It’s hormones, so if testosterone injections work on you, then maybe.”

Valen forced his vision to focus on the pills. He was probably well outside the window of time when such a medication would even be effective. But if there was any chance at all that it would work, to prevent any chance at all of him conceiving...

He nodded grimly, then started pushing the pills through the foil.

***

“Try the bolt cutters again.”

“We’re not trying the fucking bolt cutters again. We already saw that didn’t work.”

“I don’t think we’re going to make any progress this way.”

“We might if you give me longer than ten seconds!”

“We might have to use the saw.”

“We’re not using the fucking saw. You’re going to take his damn head off.”

Valen tried so, so, so hard to stay still as the two women went at the metal collar with everything they had. Ari was currently trying to pick the lock, a book with diagrams of locks and lockpicks out on the table next to Valen’s head. Ari gripped his hair with one hand to keep him steady, peering down into the lock as though she could see the pins. “Fuck me, I didn’t expect this to be so hard.”

Ari stood him upright. “And you’re sure you can’t break it now that you’ve gotten some strength back.”

Valen had already tried to explain that the collar and lock both had silver on the inside, because Nick was very good at making things from silver, and therefore Valen would never be able to break it no matter how strong he was. But he tried again for good measure, just to demonstrate. Nothing happened, his hands trembling as he pulled with all his might. “Yes, ma’am, I’m quite sure.”

Ari scowled. "All right. Lex, hold the light." Valen craned his neck, stretching upwards as far as he could to give Ari more room as she went at it with the lockpicks again.

"Maybe we can try and get the key off Nick-"

"No, I'm not doing anything that could clue that maniac into the fact that we have Valen."

Valen squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to be rid of the last evidence of Nick's domination of him, the last thing binding him, more than anything. This had been enormously stressful for him so far, though, mostly because Ari had been on a hair-trigger with her anger the entire time. He was afraid of pissing her off even more, and tried to be as quiet and nondescript as possible throughout the whole process, to make up for being the center of attention.

Ari started to huff and puff angrily, motions becoming agitated. She eventually broke the lockpick and tossed it to the ground, cursing.

"All right, let's take a break," Lex said.

Ari plopped down onto the chair they kept downstairs next to the workbench. "Fuck. I can’t–I can’t–I still can’t believe he did that.” Her temper was absolutely boiling. Her anger was exacerbating Valen’s anxiety, even though it was self-directed.

She stood back up and grabbed the collar again, a bit too roughly, and he winced back, suppressing a whimper.

“Ari, stop, take a break.”

“I’m fixing this,” she snarled. “I’m getting it off, I’m fixing it. Give me the saw.”

“Ari, you’re scaring him.”

Ari looked at him, startled, as though she hadn’t realized.

Finally, the tools in her hands clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry we did this to you.”

Oh. That was why Ari had been so intent on this. On doing this now, on getting the collar off now. He felt himself softening, and he reached out to her, but she quickly pulled him into a hug.

His ear was near her heart, and he heard it beating, and the roar of blood rushing through her veins. “F-fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ari said.

Valen thought of the humans at the Kithrara estate, the ones he didn’t help, the humans he didn’t want to risk himself for. They’d all think he was a monster, most humans would. He would cry like this, when confronted with the evidence of his complacency in a system that committed atrocities on a massive scale, of the damage his passivity had caused. Of the good he could have done, but didn’t.

What would he want to hear from one of them?

“I’m…not going to say it’s okay,” Valen started. “Because it isn’t. But when we make mistakes, what matters is what we do after that. And you’ve chosen to do everything within your power to fix things, even though it meant confronting your own feelings of shame and guilt. Looking uncomfortable truths in the eye takes courage and integrity, and for that I admire you.”

Ari let out a choked sound. “Wow, okay, Aristotle.”

What did that mean? Had Valen said the wrong thing?

Lex let out a laugh, slapping Ari on the arm lightly. “You goofball. Come on, sit down, let me try for once.”

Oh. All it meant was that Ari was overwhelmed, and didn’t know how to handle the situation. She sat down, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Thank you for trying. I know it’s hard to make it right, but thank you for trying as hard as you can.

Lex took the wheel. Valen recognized that Lex and Ari had wildly different strengths and weaknesses, and had already learned to appreciate the differences that made them stronger together, the both of them as different but equally valuable people. But it would be a lie to say he wasn’t significantly more relaxed now that it was Lex handling him, rather than Ari.

Her hands were much steadier, and she was calmer. She spent a minute examining the diagram of the lock with all its pins, then took the lockpicks and started fiddling with it.

The lock popped open. It was off, oh it was off. The feeling was unparalleled as the collar snapped off and clattered on the ground.

Lex smiled. “There, see? Nothing we can’t fix.”

***

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fanfictiondreamscape · 2 years

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Ideal Types

Request: Hi!

I read your rules and I was wondering if I could request headcanons for Kyoka, Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki and Mori’s type?

Like what kind of person they’d fall for or what traits do they find important?

Thanks and feel free to ignore!

Bye!

Btw your writing is awesome!

Title: Ideal Types

Genre: mostly fluffy and slightly romantic (it is ideal types after all wink wink)

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori/Hikaru Hitachiin/Kaoru Hitachiin/Tamaki Suoh/Takashi Morinozuka x GN!Reader

Notes: So, I’m going to assume you meant to type Kyoya instead of Kyoka (i thought of Kyoka Jiro brom BNHA), to make that clear beforehand! Also thanks for the compliment! I’m glad you enjoy what I write, it makes me happy seeing that people enjoy it.

Otherwise, this sounded kinda fun! I will say, though, that this will be based on how I see the characters and how they are written. I haven’t read enough of the manga to get a super in depth grasp of their extreme inner selves (if you know what I mean), but I have finished the anime a multitude of times - I think I can get it pretty good, due to that.

Either way, I hope you enjoy this! And again, thanks for requesting!

Below the cut!

Tamaki Suoh

shy.

this man loves shy people.

if not shy, then quiet.

but no matter-

if you’re shy, he can play up his princely role and be your knight in shining armor!

but you still gotta give him a run for his money

(not literally, of course - he’d be willing to drop thousands for you if you even so much as glanced at something you wanted)

if you aren’t willing to push through his stuff, he won’t want to be with you

he wants support, no disregarding it

he doesn’t get much from the people he lives with, so if his significant other isn’t going to support him, expect to be dropped

otherwise, please support this boy.

that, and if his grandma doesn’t love you, expect to be kept a secret

if his dad loves you, though, then you’ve got a new father figure along with a boyfriend

intelligence isn’t necessary, but common sense might be

especially if you’re a commoner

with the way he can be, he needs someone to tie him down a bit

someone that understands how things work

(i’m really just putting this out there now, but every person here loved something about haruhi that would be universal no matter if it was or wasn’t haruhi)

it definitely helps if you can open him up to a new culture, too

he is a curious person, so i don’t doubt that he’d love to hear about any customs that my differ from his

especially if you have a certain religion or ethnicity

speaking if which, i do think that he would try to adjust his mannerisms to adjust to you and your family’s mannerisms

he (surprisingly) doesn’t come off as a player, so i do think that the way he handles himself reflects his ideal plan

whatever happens in the future does, but he wants to marry you.

he truly does.

i also don’t think he would care too much about gender (after a bit)

he means well, really

but he may be a little rough with pronouns and preferences in the beginning

so patience is also key here :)

that also applies to kids and family members that he may so happen to meet

very friendly to them, and very sweet in general

the way that you would react around children would probably be a very important thing, too

he didn’t see his mother for the most formative years in his life and had never truly felt comforted even though his dad tried his damnedest to be there for him

but you?

if you have a little niece that you see every so often and he sees her, guess what?

he’s gonna be all over her

but you?

you would probably have to handle the chi;ld with care

same thing applies to siblings, adoptive or not

younger than you?

perfect, if you end up taking them out to lunch because your parent(s)/legel guardian(s) weren’t able to hang out with you that day, tamaki will be f a w n i n g

seriously

it brings him comfort and makes him more comfortable in his choice

and he also just solidified his love for you

he will be proposing to you as soon as the time for the moment comes

that is a fact, and one that you can’t deny

and one more thing: adventurous

it’s another thing that he finds intriguing

especially if you love hiking

he will pay for the tickets to go hiking on a trail in the US

or to visit a forest in Korea or China

let’s also not forget the many places he could take you to see in France

seriously, he would love it

and he may try to profit off it for the host club

(in those cases, expect kyoya to run the show since you will probably have to drag him away for a few to get some alone time with him)

and when it comes to arguments and discrepancies between the two of you, please listen

you don’t have to agree, which he will be forever a drama queen about, but please

let him get his side off, and tell him what went wrong

articulate what is going on what problem came up, and work with him to find the middle ground and be happy for the night

i also find that he would be one to give you a good night kiss even if you got into it earlier in the night

seriously

so, in conclusion, act like haruhi

(to an extent lol)

Kyoya Ootori

debate

if you can debate with him, you’ve got him

especially if you can debate with him on certain topics

that, in theory, shows your understanding of complex ideas

which presents your intelligence to him

he finds intelligence attractive

that and if you can keep a cool head

he has to constantly handle big situation after big situation due to tamaki and the club’s antics, so a level head would be much appreciated.

there’s a small portion of me that just knows

k n o w s

that if you didn’t even get along with tamaki in the slightest, you’d likely be ignored

like, if you find him annoying, that’s fine

kyoya can find him annoying, too

but if you absolutely hate his guts, you are likely not going to go along too well with him

the two of them are an unconventional team so to tear them apart is to topple the japanese high school equivalent of royalty

that would drive him up a wall, but i can imagine that since they are a team

that you would be dragged into club activities whether or not you are a member

otherwise, please talk with him

kyoya, though driven, is also extremely unaware of his health (in a way that he ignores it)

so he needs someone to pull him back and get him to realize his worth outside of grades and gaining his father’s approval

seriously

bring him down and get him to take a break sometimes.

he needs it.

badly

(bonus points if you can get him to sleep before 5 am!)

one more thing, too:

his family.

get along with his siblings, especially his sister

she has been one of the few people to actually stay with him and respect him

so she is the key here

if she likes you, you know that you have managed to catch his attention

in all honesty, too

your appearance isn’t gonna matter much to him, as long as you can make yourself look presentable when the time calls

i will warn you though

he isn’t the best with emotions, so he may be tempted to buy copious amounts of gifts to compensate for hi slack of understanding

which could lead to arguments

debates are normal, those are safe

but arguments with his might get a little bit...on the threatening side?

idk how to phrase it, really

but i highly doubt that he is gonna fall back, especially if you cave first

he isn’t the most emotionally unintelligent, really

he’s just a little self-focused

which is why an ability to stand ground would be good here

he’s not gonna be like tamaki and refuse to go to bed angry, no

he’d probably let it stew overnight and then fix it the next day (if it’s petty enough)

but no matter

just state your point, allow him to state his, and discuss

level-headed, concise, and understanding are the keys here

especially in a fight

(or go to his sister)

(she could tear into him)

(and it may get a laugh out of him depending on the situation)

(just play your cards well)

anyways, carry your head well is the gist here

intelligence is what will catch him, but your personality is what will catch him next

again, he isn’t picky, more so just self-focused

so be calm and patient, and be willing to see the lines and read between them if needed

(that happens to be his toxic trait, but whatever-)

(and no, if any questions are to come up, he will not be capable of doing what his evil twin did in episode 8)

Takashi “Mori” Morinozuka

i’m gonna say it

mans is most definitely a tough read

like really

but there is one thing that i just k n o w he loves

he loves to be the protector

really, just looking at the way that he approaches situations with honey and haruhi proves this

even the rest of the club at times, in all honesty

so he’d like someone he can protect

(not at all times, tho)

(he is well aware of the lengths you’d go to in order to make sure that you walk out of a situation in pristine condition)

but still-

at least just let him help you

his love language is very obviously acts of service, so anyone that is willing to allow him to do so would be great

now we get to honey-senpai

ik it’s a common thread amongst everyone here, but this (next to the twins) would be the most prominent

honey’s judgement hasn’t often been wrong

and he’s really welcoming, so if you tip off honey’s radar imagine yourself cut from the list in general

seriously

you absolutely, positively, truly have to get along with mori’s precious cousin

(and do note, kissing ass gets you nowhere in this scenario)

that, and if you get along with kids in general

i see him as the kind of guy that would really like kids, despite the fact that some can get super scared of him

he’s really a sweet guy, so he needs someone sweet with him

like, if you have a younger sibling or extended family member that is like

a toddler, let’s say

and you can play with them and make them happy, even generally caring for them

yeah, that will make him happy

really happy

i also seem his as the type to like someone a little more...quiet

not like a bookworm (strictly, at least)

but like, someone that is more introverted

and can also hold their own in classes

not genius level, but hopefully you get the gist

if you could hold a joke and have a sense of humor, too

think a personality type similar to the “girl-next-door” archetype without the amount of modernized twists and gender specification

speaking of modernization

i feel like he’d like someone who’s a little more traditional

not like “stay at home and do [blank]” traditional, though

like...

values family traditions kind

really, dude’s a family man and he makes it very evident

i also think he would re4ally like someone who can knock people down a few pegs when the time calls for it

physically or verbally, doesn’t matter to him

a little fire is always nice

anyways-

when it comes to arguments, expect him to be patient

he will get mad at times, and that’s understandable

but he’s another one that doesn’t want to go to bed angry

he really wants to get to the root of the problem before it can get any worse, but if it means settling for the night and sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, well

that’s fine with him

he really just wants someone to discuss the issue with

that is, opposed to someone who wants to fuel the flames and create more problems

so please, someone open-minded and willing to listen would be great

i also feel like he’d like someone who would really like hugs, i mean look at him-

all in all, though, yeah-

to be reasonable and understanding

while also being carefree and gentle?

yeah, marriage material right there

he really just wants to hold you close to him

(and he wants to please you and treat you like royalty, but hey-)

but he wouldalso really respect someone who sees him as more than honey-senpai’s carrier or that one hot guy that won’t talk

really, someone that can treat him like a person

Hikaru Hitachiin

so there might be a theme between the twins

that being the fact that they would like someone that can have fun and focus on the good side of life

and that rings true for hikaru, really

but unlike kaoru, he isn’t going to be the type to ignore that at most times

(particularly upon first meeting)

if you can take a joke, that’s makes you attractive

if you can tag along with the twins’ pranks?

even more so

(again, particularly to hikaru)

willing to clown anyone else just because you want to?

yep, check that off the list as well

really if you can let loose, he will be drawn to you for it

otherwise, though, what he wants isn’t going to be the most ideal for him

it may take kaoru to point it out, possibly even mori or honey, but he needs someone to bring him down

he can get a little egotistical when something continually goes his way

but when that is immediately dashed, he gets mad

not really violent, rather passive-aggressive and insulting

he knows, when willing to acknowledge it especially, that he needs someone to calm him

call him out on what he’s done, tell him that it isn’t right.

remind him that the way that he is acting is only going to cause more harm than good

help him acknowledge where he needs help

help him develop himself and himself alone

help him come to terms with others, too

really, he needs someone that can take a joke, make a joke, and knows when to avoid joking altogether

(that may seem like a stretch to him, though)

another stipulation:

you HAVE TO get along with kaoru

HAVE TO.

there is no debate here, really

i remind you of being able to aid him in pranking others with him and kaoru

but that also means that he has to trust you enough to tell you anything about him

only kaoru and a select few others know how he really feels, and how he really processes everything, and how he really grew up and the feelings that came with it

so he also HAS TO trust you

and kaoru respecting you and liking you is the first step

in regards to appearance, though, i do feel like he would be a little more particular to it

he would budge, it believe that all of the host club members definitely have their moments but mean well

but i also do think that your appearance may be the first thing to grab his attention

i’m thinking he’d be drawn more to people that look similar to the models that his mom uses in fashion ad campaigns

to be specific, those from active wear ads

i don’t know why, but i feel like he’d like someone who looks like they take care of themself

but really, while that may be what draws his attention, it would come down to your personality

(i really felt the need to place this here especially)

(no clue why but i just get the feeling that the twins would be way more judgemental from the get-go)

to make it clear, though, he may get picky and a little nasty, but he means well

which makes it even weirder when it comes to arguments

there will be days where he will die on his hill of choice

he’ll refuse to listen, refuse to acknowledge you even

possibly even go to kaoru and proceed to make a fool of you without telling him the whole truth

(only for kaoru to pull him back)

he would be likely to do what kyoya might here

going to bed angry would definitely be something that he may do, but i also feel that he’d have enough awareness to settle it just a little bit

which leads to the other side

he can also be very gentle about it

(i have to draw another parallel to tamaki here)

this side is one in which he would be likely to at the very least ease thing sdown enough to sleep in the same bed

i see him as the type of hold you close to him, cheek to chest

so i find that he would be sleeping in the same bed, but on the complete other side and his back facing you

settled just enough to calm the situation

only then would he be willing to settle the situation the next morning

but in general, he isn’t going to pay much attention to you if you don’t have a sense of humor

really, he just wants to relax with someone that can make him feel safe and comfortable

someone that can bring out the best in him and give him space when needed

as well as help him become the best version of himself without it being strictly ‘hikaru and kaoru’

Kaoru Hitachiin

gonna say it again, definitely think kaoru would go for someone with a sense of humor

but he’d also want them to draw the line when necessary

and not be solely focused on humor and pranks

it’s all fair, really, but he already sees enough of the shallow image that he and his brother put on for the attendees of the club

so to only put your attention onto that would definitely make him

well...

kinda hate you

he is definitely more emotionally aware than hikaru is, so he’d be the one to step back and see you for more

your humor would be the signal

your personality would be the habit

and your reactions to him would solidify his interest in you

to be patient is to grab his attention

and intelligent

unlike hikaru, i imagine that he would be more interested in things that are the complete opposite of what he puts on for show

he doesn’t care about how other girls react to him and only that, he’d also care about appreciation for his achievements

which is also what he would seek in a partner

someone who can appreciate him, as well as appreciate themselves

that also applies to grades

he finds someone smart to be attractive

but that is still only something small

he would definitely be the one to pay less attention to physical appearance, too

he would still be picky

(sadly)

but he would also be quicker to ignore that and put more of his focus onto your mind, reactions, and the tiny little things that you do in your everyday life

but i do find that he would focus on your appearance in a different manner

like, appreciating the little acne scars and moles on your face

if you have a port-wine stain, too

that would intrigue him

even something as simple as a little mark that looks similar to one would draw his attention

that and any modifications and stuff like your eyebrows

i also feel that he’d be drawn to someone who is a bit thicker

like, muscular, heavier, has a build to suit that, etc.

stuff like that

really just any body that has a bit more space on it

and i do think he would really like body modifications

idk why i just..do

he seems like he’d like a slight divide in appearance in general, honestly

otherwise he is most definitely going to pay attention to how you help others

as much as he loves hikaru, the way he handles things (as well as a majority of the host club too, tbh) is really not great

not great in the slightest

handling things with utmost patience but also trying to take into account the person you’re helping just...

it leaves him flustered.

in arguments, too, that would be important

he can have a bit of a fiery temper at times, so to have someone that can bring him down would be great

he’d also appreciate it if his partner would be the type to tackle the issue before it gets out of hand

like, he wouldn’t want to go to bed angry but he wouldn’t be above it

(at least for one night)

he wants to rest with you, he wants to cuddle you in bed and give you a goodnight kiss on the cheek

he wants to be gentle and sweet with you

but again, he and hikaru do have some similarities that aren’t too great in hindsight

so to combat that, someone that can handle things like these in a composed manner would be great

seriously

kaoru really wants to spoon with you and sleep well and wake up to your sleepy eyes in the morning, so please-

no, really tho

he wants someone that can separate him from his brother and treat him as his own person

someone he can trust with his worst secrets and most awful insecurities and worries

someone who can treat him like a king but also knows when to get him to step down and draw the line

someone that can carry themself with a good sense of humor but a well-rounded sense of when to cut the crap

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starlessskies94 · 3 years

Text

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?Pairing: Joel Miller x OC Note: An update? Could It be? After all this time?...Yes. It is I! I come with a thousand apologies for taking so long to update. I didn't plan for it be so long but with Covid and going back to work during Covid and family stuff, I just haven't had the time but I'm back my lovelies and I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

Chapter Seven

Tommy woke up late for the first time in weeks; he didn’t often sleep in but given his late night chasing lost cattle through the town after they’d somehow managed to escape the paddocks; he figured he more than deserved it. Maria had woken him when she made to leave and insisted he stay put while she made a start on the morning checks. She kissed him goodbye and they promised to meet later for lunch together.

The morning air was crisp and fresh as he stepped down onto the path, his jacket zipped tight to fight off the dwindling cold. The snow had long since melted and there were clear telltale signs of Spring fast approaching in Jackson.

And while the cold wasn’t as biting as it had been, there was still the odd chill that needed to be shielded from with a layer or two.

It wouldn’t be long before they were preparing for a new harvest to grow throughout the year. The sacks of seeds and planting equipment appearing all over town as families began to prep the soil and start their planting as the wildflowers poked their heads through the ground to bask in the warming sunlight.

Tommy made his way through the streets heading straight for his brother’s house. It was still hard to believe that it had been a whole two months since Joel’s attack.

Two whole months since his sister in law had lost her husband; his niece, her father. And unfortunately for all of them; it didn’t seem like Joel was making any progress to getting his memories back. He tried to help of course but his brother, being the stubborn grump that he was, had only pushed his younger brother away, insisting he was capable of handling the trauma alone.

He hated seeing his brother struggling, especially when it seemed that some details were coming through. It was little things but it was better than nothing. The only problem was, it was things Joel seemed to dismiss without a second thought.

Tommy honestly believed if Joel focused on them, they’d help process bigger things. Though it certainly hadn’t helped matters that the older Miller had stopped going to his weekly check ups to help his mind improve. The head of the infirmary had voiced her concerns to Tommy a few days earlier. His constant dismissal and disregard for their importance to his slow recovery; not just frustrating the Doctor but also Tommy himself.

He just hoped he could talk some sense into his big brother.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He knocked but no answer greeted him as he stepped inside the house. It was quiet but clean. Each room meticulously organised and tidied to within an itch of its life. He figured this was what Joel must have been filling his days with over the past few weeks. The sound of muffled hammering caught his attention, leading him up the stairs to Joel’s workshop room. The door slightly ajar. Tommy had barely entered the room before Joel acknowledged him.

“What do you want, Tommy?” Joel grunted without even bothering to turn around. Tommy just shrugged silently, his hands awkwardly stuffing into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well good morning to you too, just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“As good as I can be I guess.” He muttered as he continued to work, never taking his eyes off the wood in his hands. It felt nice seeing his brother once again taking an interest in an old hobby that he had enjoyed before his injury. It felt like maybe they were finally heading in the right direction. But Tommy had to hold off, he didn’t want to push anymore than was necessary. He knew Joel well enough to know that if you pushed too far; Joel would only push back twice as hard. “Right, sorry... whatcha making?” Joel hobbled back a little from the table, giving Tommy a better view of the work in question. The long neck and the four legs beginning to take shape made his heart skip. The older man had always had a talent; that was for certain. The horses he made were always magnificent. The wolves and the deer along with any other animal the people of Jackson had asked for; were always made with utmost care. And it seemed this work of art was no different.

“I think I meant for it to be a giraffe before... everything. Figured I might as well finish it. Hell if I know who it was supposed to be for.”

“Ellie.” Tommy whispered.

“What?”

Tommy took a second for his brain to catch up with his words as he quickly cleared his throat and tried not to fidget too much. “It’s just...uh.. that it’s her birthday in a couple of months and she always liked giraffes, maybe it was meant for her?” He offered nervously. Joel just hummed casually. With a quick dismissive shake of his head and a sigh; he moved the half carved giraffe onto a nearby shelf along with his other unfinished projects. Turning to face his brother, his arm reaching out to grab his cane to steady his balance.

“Yeah, maybe...maybe Ada asked me to make it for her to give to Ellie as a gift.” He wondered out loud, stopping Tommy in his tracks.

“You talked to her?” He asked almost a little too quickly. Causing Joel to frown slightly in response at his brother’s unexplained eagerness.

“Who Ada? Briefly, why? Am I supposed to know her or something?”

“You guys were...friends I guess…” Tommy replied weakly. He knew he had to be cautious here, baby steps. They were moving into uncharted territory when it came to Ada and Ellie. Joel had only just started to accept the life they had lived in Boston as smugglers and that was before he had even had the courage to bring up the Fireflies. He needed to steer clear of things deeper than that for now and ease into the conversation he wanted to have. But his patience was starting to run thin. “Look, the reason I came by is because I was talking to Elizabeth and she said you’ve stopped going to your check ups.”

“Oh not this again Tommy!” Joel snapped, his brother rolling his eyes in frustration as Joel hobbled away from his work space and further towards the door. But Tommy was quick to stop him, stepping in the threshold and blocking Joel’s exit.

“Look I know I don’t understand what you’re going through but-”

“You’re damn right you don’t!” He yelled. "You have no idea what it’s like Tommy; to lose years of your life in an instant. Forget everything you’ve done and the people you used to care about. I don’t see how bitching about how shitty this is to the damn Doctor is going to help!”

“But you’re starting to remember things Joel! That’s a big fucking deal!”

“How?! All I’m remembering is crap no one cares about! How are horse’s names gonna help me? Or how I take my coffee in the morning? I couldn’t even remember holding my little girl in my arms after she was shot! Oh but thank the lord I could remember what colour shirt I was wearing when it happened!!”

With every word Joel got closer, his nostrils flaring in anger as blood continued to boil. But Tommy never backed down, squaring up to his big brother wasn’t unusual and certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been at odds on how to handle something. Joel’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“It’s been two months Tommy...two months of this and it ain’t getting better any time soon. This ain’t your problem so just back off!” He hissed between gritted teeth.

“You can’t just push me away Joel, I want to help. I’m trying but you’re just being so damn stubborn.”

“Then leave, I didn’t ask you to babysit me. And I sure as hell don’t need you sticking around outta guilt.” The words stopped Tommy dead.

“What?”

“I might not remember what happened but I know enough from what you told me about Boston...You survived because of me. All those years I took care of us. Just like when we were kids. So what? You feel like you owe me? You gotta take your turn to take care of me now? You can keep it baby brother because I don’t want it. And I didn’t ask for it.” The words spit venom with every ounce of bitterness Joel had in him. And Tommy felt his lip snarl in response. The ungrateful bastard; he thought coldly, after everything he’d done to keep his brother alive on the way back to Jackson after the Fireflies had almost beaten him to death and this was what he had to say in response.

“How do I know the people who did this weren’t after you. I mean they did a pretty good number on you too right? Big brother to the rescue to save your sorry ass; yet again! You think I want to live like this?! Huh?! Trapped in a life of a man I don’t even know. A house full of memories I can’t even goddamn remember!”

That was it, Tommy was done. Joel was frustrated and angry, he knew that. He understood that. Of course he did. But to blame him for this?! How the hell was that fair? His hands shook in pure anger, chest heaving as he held back his punches as much as he could. He stumbled away from the door. His trembling hand reaching up and running through his beard in a poor attempt to calm himself.

“You know what screw you! Screw you Joel! You wanna give up, you wanna feel sorry for yourself? Fine! I’m done. You give up on your family-”

“Family?! What damn family? There’s no one left Tommy! Sarah is gone!”

“She ain’t the only one you got!” Tommy cut off without thinking. Joel’s face dropping at his brother's outburst. The younger man’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he’d said. But it was too late to take it back now. And Tommy knew that. They both did. Perhaps now was the time to tell the truth.

“You want to know who your family is Joel? Take a look in your damn attic.”

Tommy uttered the words into the thick silence left between the two men. Before turning on his heel to leave, never giving Joel a chance to answer. Leaving the man to stew in his confession. He just hoped that somehow...Ada could forgive him for this.

#joel miller #last of us joel #the last of us part 2 #The last of us part ii #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel x oc #joel x reader #fanfiction #StarlessSkies writes

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Magnets

Synopsis: Opposites attract. 1950s AU. Takes place before Love Letters but can be read as a stand alone.

Warning: smoking, misogyny, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: fem cheerleader!reader x greaser!unspecified Stray Kids member; fem cheerleader!reader x football player!unspecified Stray Kids member

There’s something about summer that changes people. They loosen up, become even prettier, and come back to school with a sense of assuredness. Or at least you did last summer. You figured out what styles were in, learned how to do your hair, and started wearing cherry red lipstick. He couldn’t stop staring at you, especially when you smiled with your pearly white teeth.

“Stop that!” you laughed, swatting his arm. “I’m still me, just with better clothes now.”

“I’ve just never seen you like this. It’s so weird now without your overall dress things.”

You playfully shook your head, the ends of your curls bouncing from the movement. “Ugh, some best friend you are. Just tell me I look nice and leave it at that. Also, they’re called pinafores.”

He didn’t care what they were called, only that you traded them in for fuzzy sweaters and skirts that flared at the hips. You didn’t look like the girl who brought her stuffed animals with her everywhere anymore. You looked like you belonged on a movie screen.

So this year he resolves to make you feel the same way. While you stay home for the summer, he goes on a road trip with his family. He thinks about you the entire time, from a tiny diner in the middle of nowhere to a dock overlooking the ocean. When he gets back, he has for you five souvenir handkerchiefs, all from different states. All he can imagine is how flustered you will be by his sun-highlighted hair and new broad shoulders when you answer the front door.

Instead, you give him a quick smile and place the handkerchiefs onto an end table without even looking at them. You’re late for a movie with friends, you tell him, as you carefully smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt. When he offers to give you a ride, you shake your head and bid him goodbye. You practically push him back into his car.

“You sure you don’t want a ride?” he asks as he opens the driver’s seat. You didn’t say a single word about his summer transformation. “I don’t have any plans tonight, so it’s fine by me.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll see you at school then, okay? Tell your parents I said hi. Okay, bye.”

He reluctantly drives off but stops at the corner. In the rearview mirror, he catches you hurrying down the street to where a black convertible is parked. Even from this far away, he can tell it’s a greaser’s car.

What are you doing with a greaser?

As he stealthily follows you up to the mountain road nicknamed Lover’s Lane, he knows.

When school resumes again, you keep to your friends, not even trying to talk to him even though you’ve been friends since you were kids. He tries though. He even accepts the football coach’s offer to join the team because he knows you’ll be cheering at each game. But when he asks if you want to go to the diner after the football game, you look at him with confusion.

“You don’t even like football.”

“I joined the team this year. Coach thinks I can be a good quarterback. Might even go to state.” He rolls his shoulders back, showing off his new muscles in his tight shirt. You don’t even blink. “Aren’t you a cheerleader?” he teases. “Shouldn’t you know what the football team’s up to?”

“Me and the girls usually go out somewhere after, so I’ll probably be busy. Sorry.” You give him a small smile. “Anyway, I’ve got practice now. And I guess you do too.”

“Are you free on the weekend? We can get burgers or something.”

“I have to study and finish homework. There’s going to be a math test soon.”

“When are you free then?”

“I don't really know. I gotta go or else I’ll be late. See you tomorrow.”

Before you can run too far off, he asks, “Why are you avoiding me?”

You look taken aback momentarily, but then you sigh and furtively look around. You stay where you are, folding your arms across your chest. “Look, we’re in high school now. Things are different. If I’m around you all the time, people will think we’re dating. I mean, people have already asked me that. They’ve been asking since freshman year.”

“Is that such a bad thing? It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

You go still. He waits for you to confess that you actually do and that you’re sorry for hiding it from him, but you only shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t like you like that. I’m tired of giving them the wrong idea and being asked every day, so just… just don’t talk to me anymore, okay? We’re still friends.”

Friends. That’s all he will be to you, but the prospect of not even being in your life is even worse. “That’s so dumb! Forget everyone else.”

“You don't understand,” you say through gritted teeth. “They’re saying stuff about me, calling me a tease and a slu—” You break off there and cradle yourself, looking down at the floor. “Never mind, just…”

He balls and unballs his fists. He’d bet anything it’s that no-good greaser. “Who’s saying that? Give me a name, and I’ll take care of it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You take a step back. “We can’t hang out or talk anymore, okay? I really need to go now. I’m late.”

He skips practice that day, choosing instead to head to the garage where the greasers usually hang. As expected, the greaser — your sleazeball of a boyfriend, he angrily thinks to himself — is in the middle of the group. All heads turn to look at him when he enters the room.

“Hey, look who’s here. Mr. Quarterback,” the sleaze drawls. He takes a drag from his cigarette, smirking all the while. “Hit your head too much or what? This isn’t the football field.”

“Get bent, you dog,” he spits out. “I know you said those things about Y/N. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

The greaser flinches. “Who?”

“She’s on the cheer team. Don’t play dumb.” He decides to leave out the part where you’re dating him; he’ll protect your secret at least. “You’ve been calling her a tease.”

“If people are saying it, it must be true,” snickers someone in a too-large jacket. “I mean, just look at her—”

“Shut up,” the greaser commands as he flicks cigarette ash towards his friend. “You’ve been giving me a headache with all your blabbing. As for you, Mr. Quarterback, you’re out of your mind if you think I care enough about someone like her to go around gossipping like some housewife. So, scram or I’ll make sure you’ll never play again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe. Just get outta my garage.”

He does what he’s told, feeling humiliated as he walks back outside. The greaser didn’t sound like he was lying. In fact, he sounded like he was about to flip his lid when he found out.

A few days later, he finds out that the greaser did just that. The head cheerleader’s car is keyed and its tires slashed, and a baseball player comes to school with a broken arm. The rumors about you die down, and the new hot topic becomes the upcoming dance. You look more relaxed than he has seen you all month. Slowly, you begin taking the initiative to start conversations with him. No matter how many times he asks though, you always refuse to go to the diner or to the drive-in with him.

“You don’t have to feel bad for me,” you tell him as you look away from another cheerleader sharing a kiss with her boyfriend. “You should be going on actual dates with someone. Like, oh I don’t know, the girl who sits next to you in physics. She keeps making eyes at you during class. I swear, you’re the only one who can’t see how big of a crush she’s got on you.”

He shrugs. “She’s not really my type.”

“Then what’s your type?”

Preppy cheerleaders who love strawberry milkshakes and wear cherry lipstick. Girls who wore pinafores and carried a teddy bear around when they were five. Best friends who unfortunately only remain best friends.

“I don’t know,” he lamely replies.

“Go ask her out then. Maybe you’ll end up liking her.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You swat his arm with your textbook. “You’re such a square, you know that? C’mon. The bell’s gonna ring soon.”

While you head to the back where your desk is, he slides into his own assigned seat in the middle. The girl next to him says hello with a smile, and he gives her a small one in return. She nearly swoons. When class begins, he can feel her eyes darting back and forth between the board and him. You were right about him being oblivious. How did he not notice this before?

This week’s lesson is about magnets, and he’s hit with the hard realization why he can never be with you. No wonder you ended with a greaser. Opposites attract, and your boyfriend is about as opposite as can be compared to you. You’re the girl next door. Meanwhile, your greaser wears leather jackets, drag races in his souped-up convertible, and chain smokes cigarettes.

With his button downs and a promise of getting a letterman, he’s too much like you; that’s why you don’t want him. He can be in your orbit, trying his hardest to touch you, but you’ll always keep him at a distance.

When the bell rings, he turns to the girl sitting beside him. She pushes her thick glasses higher on her nose as she struggles to pick up all four of the books on her desk.

He places his hand on top of the pile. “Do you have a date to the dance next week?”

~ ad.gray

To all those sent in requests for our anniversary, we’re still working on them! There will be a later announcement post about it, so stay tuned. Thank you for your patience!

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids au #skz au #greaser au #20210722

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 years

Text

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Six

“Sam,” you call, as he walked through the house from the bathroom, “Make sure none of those knuckle heads throw their back out trying to set up that tripod.”

“On it,” he said, glancing out the Cabin’s screen door to see Joe and Cooksy having a very animated argument about how to set up the aforementioned piece of equipment.

Natasha and Sharon watched him go and Natasha turned back towards you, “Jesus Christ.” You were sweating and Natasha was fairly certain you’d started cooking some time around 5am and hadn’t stopped since. “How?”

You shrug and wipe the sweat out of your eyes with a towel slung over your shoulder, “It used to be my mom, my grandma and I. Then Grandma died and mom stopped coming so…Here we are.”

You’d like to cry. You’re tired and your back hurts and you can feel the muscle cramps from standing in one spot for so long trying to get everything done. But you don’t, you just resume chopping to try and get things on the stove so you can finish things over the fire. Camping is work. Something no one else really seemed to understand.

Sharon drifted out to go be with Sam and you take a deep breath, tossing your knife into the sink with more force than was probably strictly necessary before adding the onions, tomato, and garlic into your waiting, perfectly seasoned cast iron pot.

Natasha squeezed behind you to get to the sink and started washing. She wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted help but. She didn’t blame you for being irritated by the male voices outside bellowing laughter while you were stuck inside trying to feed everyone you’d planned to feed AND the people that had decided to come along.

She couldn’t feel the tension in the air but she’d worked with you long enough to see it ratcheting down on you. It was like someone was twisting a corkscrew down your neck. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t break her heart a little. She wondered, in the back of her mind, how long it had been like this on these little excursions. And if it was always like this or just the added pressure of having to also feed gods, supersoldiers, and other sundry heros.

______

You stood on the porch watching the goings on for a minute and sighed. There was still cornbread to be made but at least that you could do outside. It was hotter than hell in the kitchen and the breeze off the lake felt like heaven as it cooled the sweat on your forehead. You hefted the pot slightly closer to your body and started down the steps carefully.

“Move,” you snap. You’re hot and this pot is heavy and you really don’t have the patience to be polite and wait for someone to listen to you.

Sam started and pulled Sharon out of your way quickly to let you through and you sigh, starting across the grass to adjust your fire and get the chili on properly. You can feel people watching you and it rankles. Honestly with all the strong ass men that have been drinking and laying around all day, you’d appreciate it if someone would have at least ASKED if you wanted the extra set of hands.

You wrestle the cauldron sized pot into place and wipe your forehead on your forearm, swaying slightly on your feet. “Can someone-” you start the sentence but. You can’t really seem to find the rest of the words. No one’s looking at you. They’ve all gone back to doing… whatever. And all you want to do is cry. There’s still so much left to do. And you realize that if you wanted to work this hard all weekend you could have just stayed home holed up in your office.

But. Your boys like corn bread. And it isn’t their fault that Tony rented out what feels like half the lake. So. You turn and go to get the things you need to make it. Just the way your grandma did. Because she learned from her mom. And so on and so forth. It was the only thing Joe ever asked for and you were going to make sure he got it.

Bucky watched you disappear back into the house and frowned. He’d not seen you all day. Not since you slipped out of bed to make sure Cooksy got his pancakes and there was breakfast waiting on everyone else. But even from a distance, you looked wrecked. And he didn’t miss that you were limping just a little. He wasn’t sure if it was your old injuries or a new one. But he whistled to Lucy all the same and started back up the beach.

_____

He stopped at the kitchen door and watched you for a minute, watching you mix batter and talk to the dog who was sitting very patiently to have her ears rubbed just like she liked.

“Are you having fun?” you ask, kneeling for just a minute to lavish attention on her, “Out there exploring? I’m gonna have to check you for ticks tonight before bed.”

“You okay?” Bucky watched you look up and his stomach twists. You look hot and tired. And even Lucy seems to know that all is not right. Her tail, which usually wags nonstop when you talk to her is still and she’s frantically burrowing into your chest like she can will you into feeling better if she wipes enough eye boogers on your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, catching yourself on the counter as you waver on your feet trying to stand up straight.

“Now say that and don’t fall over,” he said folding his arms.

“I’m not arguing with you, I’ve got too much to do,” you tell him, pouring batter very carefully into your freshly greased pan.

“Sweetheart,” he started.

He wanted to put an arm around you and make you sit down but when you brush past him, pan in hand, he had no choice but to follow you. And watch as you knelt by your fire to make sure everything was exactly how you wanted it to be.

“Something smells good, kid,” Joe said, lowering himself into a camp chair with a groan

You make a soft sound but otherwise, you don’t answer. It’s still hot, this close to the fire but at least you can feel some of the breeze of the lake at your back. And you’re not standing up. That’s good. Standing hurts. Kneeling like this hurts too but at least it hurts new muscles.

“Cornbread is an art,” you explain to Lucy, scritching her neck.

“Damn straight,” Joe agreed, chuckling when the little dog waddled her way over to investigate her pop up dish for treats.

Bucky came and took a spot on your other side and leaned over to kiss your head. Your hair is damp with sweat and he can see the tremors in your hands when you reach out to carefully adjust pans. “Thirsty?” he asked softly.

“And hot. And hungry. And tired.” you answer.

“Baby-” Bucky starts. But he stops when you shake your head. You don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want anything. You just want to be done. And you want to go home. Bucky gets to his feet and kisses your head again, going to get dishes and find an ice pack to put on your back when you decide to stop being grumpy and let him help you.

By the time the corn bread is all done and the chili has simmered into it’s perfect state, fireflies are drifting over the grass. You straighten up slowly and set the last pan on the wooden table with a clang.

And that’s the last thing you remember.

At least until you roll over and dry heave into the grass for about a minute.

_________

Bucky saw you waver for a second and he’d never been more thankful to be fast in his life. He didn’t quite manage to catch you, but he did manage to keep you from smacking your head on the concrete right behind you.

He isn’t sure who handed him a cold cloth and he honestly doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he’s kicking himself for not sticking closer to the house. And that there are several team mates he’d personally like to strangle.

“Easy,” he cautioned, wiping tears and snot off your face with a clean handkerchief and putting an arm behind your back to help you sit up.

“ ‘m okay,” you protest weakly.

“Get her inside,” Nat said quietly, nudging Bucky. Most of the party hadn’t really seen what happened. And Nat figured you’d probably like it to stay that way.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Bucky murmured, nodding.

You did. Too disoriented and tired to do anything else. And Bucky carried you carefully into the bedroom that you were sharing, laying you on the cot. You whimper just slightly and Bucky takes a second to run practiced hands over your limbs feeling for anything broken.

“Easy,” he repeated, putting a hand on your chest to keep you still. “Someone bring me some cold water. And rags.”

Your skin was the wrong temperature. You were too hot and too cold all at the same time. Heat exhaustion then, not heat stroke, he decided and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “You gotta take it easy,” he scolded gently, taking the ice water and a stack of wash cloths from Joe and Natasha before shooing them out.

__________

Bucky sat on the floor by the bed and watched you sleep, stroking your hair. He was afraid to sleep next to you, worried that you’d get too hot. He hadn’t even wanted to let Lucy sleep with you but the poor puppy had cried like someone was killing her when he shut the bedroom door.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he muttered. “All you’re gonna do is lay in the shade and watch those chuckle fucks figure out how to feed everyone.”

#Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt8

hello!! sorry for the wait, this week has been a little bit crazy for me :) but thank u all for your patience!! i adore all of u

pt1

pt7

pt9

“Yeah, Appa hates going underground,” Aang said. “And we need to do whatever makes Appa most comfortable.” To confirm this, Appa let out a small growl. (Y/N) smiled and hugged Appa’s nose, giving him a light kiss on his fur. She might fear a lot of things about her new life, but Appa was not one of them. They left the nomads at the lake, only to return a few moments later covered in ash from the Fire Nation catapults that had been hurled at them.

(Y/N) was so scared. She hated being scared. Back home, she had felt like one of the bravest girls in her tribe. She was willing to defy authority. She wasn’t afraid of bullies like others were. For as long as she could remember, she had tried to approach her life without any sort of fear. But here, out in the world, she felt so small. It was difficult for her, adapting to the nomadic lifestyle of the Avatar and his friends. Each new place they encountered had different cultures and different people that (Y/N) feared of offending. Even not being referred to as ‘Princess’ caught her off guard. The people looked different, the food tasted different, and sometimes she had trouble taking it all in. Plus it was so unbearably hot, she wasn’t sure how Katara and Sokka had ever gotten used to it.

She chastised herself in her mind, for standing at the sidelines of any interaction their group had. The others were more talkative and far more open than she ever dreamt of being. So she stayed silent and watched, inhaling each piece of her new life bit by bit until sometimes it felt like she was suffocating. (Y/N) new that the whole point of her leaving the tribe was so that she could live the life she had always wanted, but she was doing a horrible job at it. She looked over her friends’ easy-going mannerisms with slight jealousy.

Her friends, could she even call them that? She considered them to be her friends, but (Y/N) had no basis of friendship to go off of. (Y/N) had only one true friend in her entire life, and now she was gone. Everything had always been so easy with Yue, and now (Y/N) found herself replaying every single word she had said that day over and over again and reliving the embarrassment.

She watched as Momo approached the bank of the river she sat along. He sniffed the air once and bent down, lapping up the cool water. (Y/N) frowned. “I wish I had been born a flying lemur monkey,” She muttered. Momo stared at her in confusion.

Their group had reached an Earth Kingdom outpost a few days ago in hopes that they would be escorted to Omashu. The results of their visit were near-disastrous, and they decided to travel to the city by themselves. They had been walking for a few days now and rested at a small lake. Sokka drifted along in the middle while Katara and Aang practiced their waterbending. (Y/N) had had her waterbending lesson with Katara earlier that morning.

“Why don’t you hop in?” Sokka asked as he floated past. “The water’s fine.”

“I can’t swim,” (Y/N) said simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re a waterbending, what do you mean you can’t swim?”

“I don’t have to swim in order to bend water,” She said defensively, her cheeks flushing red. “Besides, we have to get going soon.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He turned to Katara and Aang. “Will you guys be done soon? We have a lot of ground to cover if we wanna make it to Omashu today!”

“Like you’re ready right now?” Katara called back. She continued teaching Aang his waterbending. Sokka grumbled to himself, something about ‘any minute now.’

(Y/N) wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Sokka. Her eyes were trained on him now, watching his every move as he moved through the river. She hadn’t been the nicest to him when he arrived to her tribe. She only tolerated his presence because of Yue. Then he had done her an enormous favor and provided her with the escape that she had always wanted. Since then, their exchanges had been few and far in between. She spent most of her time talking to Katara and Aang. Sometimes Momo and Appa, but never really Sokka. She rested her chin at the tops of her knees. Maybe it’s too painful, she thought to herself. Because every time she looked at Sokka, she thought of Yue.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a group of singing people wandered into where they were relaxing. “Hey, river people!” The man holding the guitar said. The four kids stared at him quizzically.

“We’re not river people,” (Y/N) said slowly. The man blinked at her.

“You’re not? Then what kind of people are you.”

“Just people,” Aang said with a shrug.

The man had introduced himself as Chong and he had a wife named Lily. They traveled with another man named Moku. Once the others dried off, the nomads, along with Katara, Aang, and (Y/N), all sat around Appa as they told stories of their travels. (Y/N) couldn’t help but be absolutely entranced by what they were saying. She had seen more in these last few weeks than she had in her entire lifetime, and it shocked her that there was still more out there to see. Lily strung them all flower crowns and placed them atop their heads. (Y/N’s) was made from lovely lilacs that grew around the lake.

The nomads informed the group of a pass through the mountains that would lead them directly to Omashu. “I think we’ll stick with flying,” Sokka interrupted. The almost parental look he gave urged the rest of his group to get up.

“Secret love cave, let’s go,” Sokka grumbled.

(Y/N) dusted herself off as they walked to the cave, her frown deep and her forehead creased with unhappiness. “I just washed this,” She huffed.

“Come on, princess, it’s not that bad,” Sokka said, and just as (Y/N) was about to snap back at him, she looked at his smile and realized he was joking. The anger left her face quickly.

“Not a princess,” She muttered. Sokka’s smile fell into sad one before he turned back to the nomads.

“So how far are we from this tunnel?”

“Actually,” said Chong, “It’s not just one tunnel. The lovers didn’t want anyone finding them, so they built a whole labyrinth!”

“A labyrinth?” Sokka and (Y/N) asked at the same time.

“Oh, I'm sure we'll figure it out,” Chong said with an air of nonchalance.

“All we need to do is trust in love...according to the curse,” Lily hummed. (Y/N) and Sokka stared at each other.

“Curse?”

“I didn’t sign up for a curse,” (Y/N) mumbled bitterly.

As they reached the entrance of the cave, they learned that whoever entered and did not trust in love would remain trapped within its walls forever. This shook (Y/N) deep to her core. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust in love like the two lovers wanted. The only love she knew was for her family and she was quite sure that that wasn’t the same.

Swiftly though, they realized that the Fire Nation was still tracking them. Reluctantly, (Y/N) entered the dark cave. Within minutes, the entrance behind them collapsed. She stared in horror as Appa pawed at the rocks.

“It’s okay Appa,” Katara reassured him, but her own voice did not seem so sure.

“It’s fine,” Sokka said, trying to be confident and take charge. “All we need is a plan.”

“The last time you had a plan, we almost died from fireballs,” (Y/N) noted. Sokka waved her off with a flick of his hand.

“That was at least thirty minutes ago. My slate is clean. Here, I’ll keep track of all the ways we go, so that way we can solve it like a maze. Chong, how long do those torches last?”

“Uh, about two hours each.”

“And we have five,” Lily said as she lit all of the torches. “So that makes ten hours!” Sokka ran over to her and stomped out all of the flames.

“It doesn’t work like that if they’re all lit!”

(Y/N) sighed. “I’m gonna die in here.”

“No, no!” Aang said. “We’ve gotta remain positive!”

“Okay, I’m positive I’m gonna die in here.”

After ten dead ends, Sokka came to the conclusion that the tunnels were changing. This led to a massive panic within the group, that alerted their presence to a giant wolfbat. It swiped at their heads and Sokka tried to shoo it away with one of their torches, but the hot sparks landed on Appa. The poor animal roared, shaking the cave around them and causing rocks to fall, separating Katara and Aang from the rest of the group.

“Don’t worry!” Chong said to Sokka and (Y/N). “At least you guys have us!”

(Y/N) leaned over to Sokka and whispered, “Do you think I’m a good enough waterbender to kill them?” Sokka stifled a laugh, but shook his head.

“We’ve gotta think of a plan to get out of here.” (Y/N) sighed.

“I don’t--I don’t know. I’ve never been trapped in a cave before.”

“Oddly enough, me neither.”

“Really? With all your adventures I was sure you’d have at least some experience with this.”

“Yeah, well,” Sokka shrugged. “All the times a super dangerous cave was presented to me I turned it down, so I’m kinda lacking experience.” (Y/N) let herself smile at him. Sokka’s eyes darted from her to the nomads.

“We all need to think of a way to get out of here.” The nomads smiled their big, goofy smiles.

“I think the best thing to do right now,” Lily said, “Is to play a song!” They all started strumming their instruments and singing a song about two fish traveling through the river.

Her hope was quickly dwindling, but (Y/N’s) brain was far too distracted trying to think of a solution to their current problem to notice. She paced around the dirt floor and stared at the curvature of the cave. Could they go up? Could she use waterbending to get them out of there? Could they use Appa as a battering bison?

She whirled around, turning to look at Sokka. “How did the two lovers find their way through the cave?”

“Earthbending, I’m assuming.”

“And love!” Chong added.

“And love,” Sokka deadpanned. (Y/N) shook her head.

“They had to have anticipated that more people would come through here. That there’d be a way for them to get out...”

“Love!” Lily said.

“If you guys say love one more time I’m going to stick these rocks in a very not-lovely place!” (Y/N) snapped. The nomads stared at her with wide eyes.

“She’s not very full of love,” Chong mumbled. (Y/N) crossed her arms and buried herself into Appa’s fur. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. (Y/N) wasn’t very full of love, not anymore.

The cave began to shake again, but this time the sound of dozens of wolfbats surrounded them. They flew overhead of the group and (Y/N) ducked down to avoid them clawing at her. Sokka waved his arms frantically as they passed.

“Hey! Sokka saved us!” Chong cheered. (Y/N) opened her eyes and shook her head.

“No, they were running away from something.”

Just after she said it, two large badgermoles appeared from the shadows of the tunnel. (Y/N’s) mouth fell open as she stared at them. She had only heard stories about the badgermoles from back home. They were the original earthbenders and they were giant. They very nearly towered over Appa, who let out a low growl at their presence. The two moles sniffed the air, their noses pointed directly at Sokka. (Y/N) could practically hear him gulp as he stepped back.

She cringed as he stepped on Chong’s guitar, but the sound made the badgermoles stop approaching. “The music!” Sokka said, scrambling to pick up the guitar. He started strumming, rather horribly, and looked back at the nomads angrily. “A little help here!”

They began singing a song, which seemed to make the badgermoles happy. (Y/N) tried her best to keep up with the words, but her singing came out as incoherent mumbles. Slowly, she began to approach the one that stood closest to her. She put her hand on its rough fur and began stroking. “Do you think you could help us find a way out of here?”

Both moles sniffed the air once and lowered themselves to the ground. (Y/N) grinned at Sokka, who ran over to her and lifted her onto the badgermole’s back. She pulled him up and he sat behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he gripped onto the animal’s fur. She felt herself blush but held her head high as they began earthbending their group out of the tunnel.

“Nice work back there,” (Y/N) said to Sokka. “I didn’t know you were so into music.”

“I am a man of many talents,” Sokka said casually, and (Y/N) laughed. Perhaps this was the start of them being friends. It only took them being trapped in a cave together, but it was a start nonetheless. “By the way,” Sokka said. “I think you’re very full of love.”

(Y/N’s) face flushed furiously once more and she cleared her throat, staring straight ahead at the moving rocks. “Thanks.”

---

Tag List!

@aangsupremacy , @treestarrrrrrrr , @beifongsss , @mdgrdians , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @aimee1602 , @plxstic-rose , @davnwillcome @squeamishdionysus , @clowninfortodoroki @thia-aep , @jinxed-tea @sara5208 @valiantprincessthea @alrightazula , @awesomelupe , @itsivyberry , @thebluelcdy , @samsmultifandomblogs , @loganrwebb , @minifruity , @cuddlykoala101 , @dionnaea , @alive-ahahah-fuck , @pipsqeak1326 , @krxliesdexd , @wastelandbbyg , @milk-n-cheese , @the-firebender-girl , @zukosvice , @justab-eautifulmess , @awkwardnesshabitat , @tomshollandz , @mmmidek-blog , @lavendercrystals , @dailytrashypanda , @bigbuckyenergy , @honey-ruel , @jackbamexpress , @astralsaf , @thebluelcdy , @solarsuki , @sometimeseverythingsucks , @nataliahaslosthershit , @teenbiology , @eridanuswave , @izzieserra , @astroninaaa , @jaylarkson , @realimbo ,

#atla #avatar #the last airbender #sokka x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #aang #zuko #sokka #azula #suki #momo #appa #writing #fanfiction

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clearwillow · 3 years

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Prove me wrong >.>

Hey @omgitscharlie You picked a fun one!

Prove Me Wrong is a bit of a stretch for me, cause it's a high school to college, enemies to friends to lovers AU (might as well add slowburn in if it wasn't obvious)

In this fic, Inuyasha and Kagome absolutely hate each other. There is no lingering looks or misunderstandings. Neither of them can stand the other person's face - which is hilarious because their parents are essentially BFFs.

Something happened when they were kids (still unsure of the details), but there were safety scissors, glue, glitter, and badly cut hair involved. Since then, they haven't been able to be left alone when they're forced to interact. Someone always ends up covered in something and the other is crying, if not both.

By middle school, Sango and Miroku enter as transfer students. Shippo's their age, and has been the middle man in that hell for years. He warns them that trying to get them to make nice equates to trying to push the postive ends of batteries together, but they won't listen. Ever. They're stupidly persistent.

Jump forward to high school senior year, and Kagome is failing Algebra 2. Badly. So badly that she's competing with herself to see how bad she can do. Until she learns that it's a required course to graduate - then it's shitting bricks mode. She puts out a call for a tutor on the school bulletin board, hoping that someone will have a heart to help her. Most responses were jokes just to find out who it was that was needing help, and she's about to give up....

.....so when Inuyasha shows up on her doorstep, she doesn't expect him to say that he's there to tutor her. He'd overheard from some of the football players that had been cracking jokes about it in the locker room. She's mortified, but when he starts to gloat that Miss Perfect ain't so perfect after all, she loses her patience. Tells him that she'd sooner fail and repeat the year than beg him for help, because she's dealt with enough crap from the rest of their peers that have "reached out" about her bulletin post.

Inuyasha offers an olive branch. If she'll consider helping him complete his literature paper (because he's missing the underlying meanings in the works), then he'll guarantee that she'll walk across the stage to get her diploma.

Tutoring is awkward at best. There's arguments. There's stomping off. There's reconciling. It's not easy. By the time the exams come around, they're barely tolerating each other.

By graduation, there's some semblance of respect between them, and the snide comments have lost some of their bite. Their friends are like "thank fuck we can trust them alone with cutlery now" but they wouldn't exactly say that InuKag are "friends".

Friendship doesn't begin building until their senior trip to the coast. Because yes - just like every anime out there - we gotta do a beach trip in the fic. Not sure at what point it switches to them being friendly to each other though.

Hints of attraction don't really kick in until freshmen year of college. Apparently they handled being roommates so well during the trip that they're roped into helping go in on rent on a place near campus. But you know - they're both so dumb, that they write off the attraction as just being near each other for long amounts of time outside of class. Figures the other doesn't see them that way/how could they after hating each other for so long.

And that's about what I've got. No idea for the end game of the fic, what it'd be rated, or much else beyond that up there...but I think it could be fun!

#I also hate that tumblr ate what I'd typed up #had to go in and retype it all again cause I misclicked T_T #omgitscharlie

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tinyshinysylveon · 4 years

Text

i suddenly got this idea where izuku is an anonymous famous editor for youtubers who hire him to edit their videos because he’s a professional at doing it, and katsuki is an upcoming youtube vlogger who travels around the world and yet doesn’t know how to edit his own videos to save his life, so no matter what he does, he always seem to mess up even the basics of editing (part 1/??)

“i think you need professional help” kirishima says as he watches katsuki trying to drag an edited cut on to his video for the umpteenth time that day “shut up, shitty hair just give me a minute-” an error popup. “did you just.. deleted the video?” “....”

katsuki keeps trying, he even watched tutorials on youtube (while skipping important segments ofc because he can totally do that all on his own!) but his patience is wearing thin until kirishima recommended him to someone who’s known in the youtube community for their famous editing skills

“..deku?” katsuki stares at his screen showing a youtube profile with the name deku as their username and an icon of all might with edited-in sunglasses “okay look, he may seem suspicious to you, but i gotta tell you bakugou, he’s legit, i’ve seen his videos and they look awesome!” well katsuki will be the judge of that despite this deku having 5 mil+ subscribers than him!

the blonde spent the whole day watching deku’s videos which mostly consists of amvs (anime music videos) and games, especially the ones that required a lot of effort to make, plus he even made tutorials! so he gotta give him credit for that, but alas, katsuki is still somehow having trouble following directions and gave up on the latest tutorial video on how to add an easy transition

when kirishima came to check in with katsuki, all he heard were multiple clicks and grumbled noises, he let out an exasperated sigh “i can’t believe you’re still trying..” “what the fuck do you want me to do kirishima?” katsuki was trying not to flip his table at this point. “hire him obviously!” the red head yells out as if that’s the answer to their problems “..and how do you suppose i do that?”

it actually took a lot of convincing in kirishima’s part, but katsuki finally threw away his pride and decided to send a message to deku’s business email that was left under his about page on youtube

“..i want you to become my editor and help me in becoming the #1 youtube travel vlogger in the community” kirishima reads the message out loud that’s displayed on the screen, “you sure you want to send it like this?” “i don’t see anything wrong with it?” “but don’t you think it’s too.. blunt? no formalities or anything like, hello i’ve seen your videos and i would be honored to have you as my editor, you know?” katsuki just shrugged, “it’s too late, i already sent it to him”

about half a day later, deku replied back, “Good afternoon Mr.Explosionmurder, I appreciate that you requested me to become your editor and would like to discuss further details about our agreement via discord. You can contact me by adding my username, deku#2463. I look forward to hearing from you.” to this day, kirishima still can’t believe his eyes when he read the message

“oi shitty hair, what’s a discord?”

it wasn’t katsuki’s fault that the majority of time he spent in high school was doing his best to stay on top of assignments and projects, plus being in the A honor roll, he didn’t really get to decide on his career until after he graduated, thanks to the courtesy of his parents owning their own modeling industry, he put the money he saved up to good use in traveling around the world and vlogging it for people to see with kirishima as his traveling partner

he explained all of this and his reasonings to deku on discord once he reached out to him and figured out how to use the platform, but katsuki was still suspicious regarding his video editing skills and wanted to see it firsthand on how his videos would look like as a finished product

deku: fair enough, send me your videos and i’ll see what i can do, until then, if you deem it satisfactory, which i’m confident that you will, i request a 50/50 payment on your revenue. take it or leave it.

for some reason, katsuki agreed to it without a second thought due to the challenging tone from the message; “i can’t believe you! i told you to trust him! why do you have to doubt him?! haven’t you already seen his videos?!” kirishima was full on panicking at this point, how were they going to make money?! “shut up, i know what i’m doing! i know what’s best for my videos!” it was a good chance too since they’re currently in hong kong and planning to shoot the top 10 tourist spots to visit as claimed by an article he found online

a few days later, katsuki finally got all the videos piled up in one folder and sent them all in a google drive to share with deku just as he requested, he even mentioned to him thru discord message to follow the cues he was giving him on his videos such as when he and kirishima took a stroll and tried foods in the temple street night market; “hey deku, i want you to do a close up of kirishima eating the curry fish ball with erotic music playing in the background” he smirks while focusing the camera on the red head eating without a care in the world and not noticing katsuki making the comment, “mmm dude, mmm you gotta try this, it’s so freakin’ good- wait bro, how long have you been pointing the camera at me?”

in less than a week, deku sent a reply back with the link to the fully edited video; deku: hmm, not gonna lie, but your cues were actually helpful and dare I say, creative? katsuki took it as a compliment and opened the link to the video file, it was about a few GB so it shouldn’t take a long time to upload on youtube, but.. was it ready? he called in kirishima to watch it with him and was actually prepared for it to look horrible despite deku’s obvious talent except.. it was actually pretty good?? better even?! “what did i tell ya katsuki? i told you he was legit,” his partner boasted, just earlier he was embarrassed when the part about him eating the curry fish ball with the “let’s get it on” music in the background showed up while the blonde just rolled his eyes.

explosionmurder: thanks, and i just saw it, consider yourself hired deku: happy to be of service! i’m looking forward to working with you, mr.explosionmurder! it would be helpful again if you provided the cues during your journey! :) explosionmurder: don’t mention it and also don’t call me that, call me katsuki deku: okay, mr.katsuki! [all might emoji]

kastuki found it odd that he became really eager during the exchange but thought nothing of it

a couple of months flew by and katsuki with kirishima in tow have already travelled in 4 other different countries, he even received about 500k+ subscribers, he’s almost to 1 million! as per agreement, he gives half of his revenue to deku which was okay with him since he still has a lot of saved up money in the bank including kirishima’s since they’re sharing it anyway, most of the time, his communication with deku have been entirely professional with a few emojis in between (usually deku’s part), until today that is

deku: it must be nice to travel 0: explosionmurder: pfft, what are you talking about? you now have over 7 mil+ subscribers in your channel since i met you, you can go traveling whenever or wherever you want deku: i can’t explosionmurder: what do you mean you can’t?

no reply

since then, katsuki didn’t want to think too much on what deku said and focused mostly on traveling, those videos won’t work themselves! after he finished, he sent over the videos of his recent trip from india over to deku and as usual, deku delivered it back beautifully edited along with a message

deku: that’s so cool! you guys went to india? *o* [link to video edit] explosionmurder: yeah, you should’ve seen shitty hair when he tried that really spicy curry, which reminds me, you did what i asked right? deku: of course mr. katsuki! as always, i’ve paid attention to every cue you asked for! [saluting pepe emoji] explosionmurder: good good, i didn’t just hire you to sit on your ass all day deku: haha you’re not my only contractor you know ^^” explosionmurder: is that what you meant when you said you couldn’t travel because you’ve been busy? way to be blunt katsuki, he mentally berated himself, but at least deku answered this time, although reluctantly deku: ...let’s just say im stuck at home in that very moment, is when everything changed between them explosionmurder: alright nerd, you sound depressed as hell so i’m going to give you the decision to decide on where we’re going to travel to next, think of it as a reward for all you’ve done for us deku: asdkjflas that’s too much! T_T are you sure mr. katsuki??? explosionmurder: i’m waiting, you got 3 seconds starting now, 3 deku: america! i’ve been wanting to go to america...

katsuki told kirishima his plans, then the spiky red head gave him a pat on the back and a thumbs up, “so you do have a sentimental bone in your body!” kirishima was almost close to being dead that very same day

when they arrived to america, he asked deku the list of things he wanted to see and most of them were, “all might amusement park, all might cafe, all might- is there anything else the nerd likes besides all might and superheroes?” katsuki says while viewing the list in the hotel they’re staying at. “give him a break, you said so yourself that he couldn’t leave his house, so this is the least we can do for him and for all the hard work he put in our videos,” kirishima reasoned with him

on the last day of their trip, katsuki did his routine in piling the videos together and sending them to deku with the attached message, “i actually bought you a souvenir if you want it, looked like the type of shit you would like, you’ll see what it is in the videos i’ve sent you” they’ve known each other long enough so he thought why the hell not, it’s just a matter of getting his PO address, and the response to this was immediate, “AAA I SAW IT! THANK YOU THANK YOU!” <3<3 <(^w^<)

it was an all might limited edition figurine only available in the US

for the first time, deku took two days longer to finish than katsuki expected him to since they’ve started because he always goes through them pretty quickly, maybe he’s too busy making them look up-to-par? whatever the case was, when katsuki received the video, it already had a title for it, “MY AWESOME TRIP TO AMERICA PLUS ULTRA!” kirishima just laughed and told him to keep it in honor of deku so he left it like that, “this better give me some views,” he grumbled and uploaded it the night before they went to bed, he wasn’t really worried in checking it out either because he has faith in deku’s abilities

the morning after was hectic, katsuki has been receiving notifications upon notifications on the “travel bros” (courtesy of kirishima) twitter since last night, one in particular caught his eye, “i can’t believe deku and katsuki are dating! who would’ve thought!” what?

a short video appeared underneath that came from the video he uploaded, and regretfully never took a look at, showing katsuki saying to the camera as he held the AM figurine, “deku, you should’ve been here, look at what i got you, nerd,” at first glance, it was supposed to look normal (from the original video!) except hearts and sparkles began appearing around katsuki as he smirks up at the camera, what the fuck? besides, deku was suppose to edit that all out! for every cue in every part where he says deku’s name, he was expected to delete them like he usually does! even though it was no secret that deku was his video editor, he distinctly remembers mentioning about him in a video they took way back when they first started out their contract agreement

meanwhile, kirishima was having a field day, he finally saw their video while katsuki kept on seeing other short videos of him on twitter from different segments of the trip in which he either had sparkles or hearts around him, especially when he mentions deku’s name; “bro you won’t believe this, our subscribers grew up to over 1 million last night!” kirishima yells enthusiastically, but when he noticed katsuki not paying attention to him, he looked over his shoulder to check what he was looking at. “oh that, you know those aren’t fanmade videos, right?” katsuki unblinkingly turned to look at him, “you mean..?” kirishima gave him a toothy grin, “yep!”

a video call from discord, “dekuuuu, what is the meaning of this?” a squeaky voice, “i-I’m so sorry i got carried away and i couldn’t help it! all might was too beautiful including you and-!” “..what did you just say?”

TBC maybe?

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk #ktdk #katsuki x izuku #my trashy writing #I REALLY DIDNT MEANT FOR THIS TO BE LONG #the last time ive wrote something this long was my assassin!au #but this is probably longer aa #the ideas were flowing inside me so i couldnt help myself asdfghjkl #i have it all planned out but it was getting too long and i'll probably write the rest if this gets enough attention #;;;#I swear this sounded better in my head #ill edit this later..

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hobgayblin · 3 years

Text

Bath Time for Bog Boy

Ship: Bog Bull (Yami/Wraith)

Words: 1,423

Summary: oh the tender homoeroticism of washing your boyfriend in the bath. It’s not spicy I promise its just bath cuddles.

Every goddamn time I’m like “oh I’ll just write a short lil fic! :)” it ends up taking me all day and being 1000+ words. and I never learn.

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The wet heat of the room clung to Wraith’s body as sat on the edge of the giant bath, his eyes fixed on the steam coming off the water. He wasn't accustomed to hot water for anything other than cooking, in fact he'd been avoiding it since he came to the bull's base. The nearby lake was a perfectly fine bathing spot, but clearly the captain didn’t agree on that matter; Yami practically dragged the outdoorsy little man into the bathroom to take a “proper” bath for once. Wraith was still skeptical of how much cleaner this bath could possibly be. Sure the lake had plants and animals in it, but could that really be much worse than a communal bath? A communal bath for the Black Bulls? As much as he loved them, that alone made him not want to get into the bath.

“If you’re just gonna keep sittin’ there like a scared cat I’m gonna pick you up and throw you in.”

The deep, annoyed voice made Wraith’s attention snap away from the water, and focus on the man it came from. Yami sat next to one of the water spouts on the opposite wall, his arms stretched out across the back ledge as he stared over at the hesitant man. Wraith’s eyes met the captain’s for a second before nervously shooting back down to stare at the water. Luckily the heat was already making his face red, so a bit of blush wasn’t very noticeable as it spread across his cheeks. He didn’t want to test Yami’s limited patience, so he finally made a move and dipped his foot into the water. His leg tensed at the dramatic temperature increase, but only for a moment. A nervous humming noise came from Wraith as he slowly brought his other leg into the water and then lowered himself down into the bath.

It was… nicer than expected. Wraith expected to feel like an ingredient in a soup, but his body quickly got used to the heat and relaxed, a bit too much perhaps. Within a few minutes he started to feel a bit drowsy from the comfort of the heat. A loud splashing sound slapped the sleepiness away and brought him back to attention. Before he fully became aware of what was happening, Yami sat down beside him, and a hand snaked around his waist to pull him closer. Wraith squeaked in surprise but allowed himself to be moved without much resistance. Not that he could do much to stop the incredibly muscular man anyway. Yami positioned the smaller man in front of him so his back was pressed against his wide chest. Once he was settled, Wraith tilted his head back to try and look up at the captain, again very glad that the heat was covering for his blush. His eyes shifted again as one of Yami’s arms reached out and he grabbed a bar of soap from the side of the bath. After lathering his hands up, Yami began to trail them over Wraith’s torso with a tenderness that was surprising for the usually rough and rude man. Wraith shivered a bit as the large, calloused hands ran along his body, leaving trails of suds all over him.

“I-I can wash myself, it’s okay,” Wraith assured, though he was enjoying the feeling of Yami’s hands on him. He was embarrassed, not only from the handsome man touching him, but also because he didn’t want Yami to think he needed help taking care of himself.

“I’m sure you can.” As Yami spoke he continued to dutifully cover every bit of skin that was exposed with soap. “Seemed like you were fallin’ asleep over here though, so I thought I’d come help you out.”

“I’m sorry I… I can stay awake. Don’t worry about--”

“Quit your yappin’ already.” Yami interrupted before Wraith could continue to protest. “Just relax, alright? I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to, so don’t worry about that.”

“I…” Wraith stopped himself from continuing and let out a light sigh. “Th… Thank you…”

With that, Wraith relaxed himself and melted back into the large man’s chest. He could feel Yami hum as he continued to gently work his hands across his body. Once again he could feel himself being lulled into drowsiness from the warmth of the water, as well as the warmth of his captain. Wraith became putty in the man’s rough hands as Yami adjusted him and moved him around to wash him thoroughly. The only time he stirred is when his leg was lifted out of the water and the comparatively colder air hit his skin. His eyes fluttered back open and he watched Yami’s hands glide across his leg before dropping it back in the water and splashing both of them. A faint giggle came from Wraith and his eyes closed again as Yami repeated the process with his other leg. His eyes didn’t stay shut for very long after that. Yami started splashing water up all over his body, and while he was still relatively gentle about it, he didn’t really stop the water from splashing Wraith in the face. The small man sat up straighter and tilted his head back over Yami’s shoulder to try and avoid more water getting in his face.

Once the splashing had stopped he relaxed again and sunk back into Yami’s arms. A gentle hum came from Wraith as he nuzzled the side of his face into the man’s large chest. Now done with his self-imposed task, Yami’s thick arms wrapped around Wraith’s waist and he relaxed into the water a bit more. The small man was hanging dangerously on the precipice of sleep, but he wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as he could. He didn’t have to worry about sleep for long though; a gentle kiss being pressed to his temple woke him right up. The surprise made him sit up and look up at Yami, who looked just as surprised at his reaction. Yami’s face, however, quickly shifted into a smirk as he saw Wraith’s sweet, wide eyes staring up at him, slightly bewildered.

“What? Is a little kiss going too far?”

“N-no I just… wasn’t expecting it…” Wraith turned his face back around to stare at the opposite wall, not wanting to make eye contact for much longer, lest he succumb to the homosexual vapours. “You gotta warn someone before you kiss, it’s rude to--”

“Alright fine, here’s your warning then.”

Wraith squeaked as one of Yami’s hands came up, squeezed his chin, and turned his head back around to face him. Before Wraith could react, Yami’s lips were roughly pressed against his, though only for a few seconds. That was all it took to take all the air right out of Wraith’s lungs. Wraith stammered something unintelligible and hid his face in his hands to avoid having to look at the grinning man. While he was still muttering another, more firm kiss was placed at his temple.

“You’ll sit here in my lap, completely naked, and let me lather your whole body up, but a kiss is what kicks your ass?” Yami teased, wrapping his arms around the man who was now trying desperately to turn into a ball.

“Sh-Shut up I…” Wraith couldn’t figure out any words to say from there, and instead just let out a high pitched whining noise.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” A small chuckle came from Yami, and he brought a hand up to gently rub one of Wraith’s knees. “Now, do you wanna unfurl yourself and let me hold you a little longer, or do you wanna get out?”

“Do I… I wanna…” Wraith’s voice trailed off and he paused for a moment before uncurling from his fetal position.

Yami took that to mean Wraith wanted the former and once again wrapped his arms around his waist, dragging him back closer to himself. Wraith relaxed into his grip again and laid his head back against his chest. His eyes closed and he let out a pleased hum as the overwhelming amount of warmth and comfort washed over him again. He felt a hand brush back across his forehead and through his hair, and then another kiss was placed on his forehead. A smile spread across his face this time, and he turned his head to lay a gentle kiss on Yami’s bicep. Wraith’s face stayed there and nuzzled Yami’s large muscular arm as he enjoyed the moment with his captain.

#oc x canon #mlm self ship #yami sukehiro #mlmay2021 #self ship #sorry felix im stealing ur sexy fic formatting style gsdgfhksdk #writing #bog bull #wraith ridel #🚬#not shown: like 5 minutes later magna and asta do a cannonball into the bath #do I write yami too gentle? maybe. so sue me.

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same-film-different-chapter · 3 years

Text

This Post Contains Spoilers pertaining to LUCA and Raya and the Last Dragon

I’m going to start off by saying that I did enjoy both of these movies. They were both cute. However, I prefer Luca to Raya.

It’s been a while since I watched a new Disney movie (thanks corona), so yesterday I decided to watch Luca and today I watched Raya (because they’re both “free” on the Disney+ site/app now (I think you had to pay for Raya for a while).

Luca is super cute and very quotable (a thing I enjoy in movies) “SILENZIO BRUNO!” It also appears to very clearly represent what it is like to figure out one’s sexuality- others have pointed out that Luca and Alberto are/could potentially be bi/gay. The key in this film being that different isn’t bad, its just different. There is a scene where Alberto reveals that he is a sea monster and Luca denies his own identity as a sea monster which translates to Alberto revealing that he is gay and Luca denying his gayness in an attempt to blend in with the humans/straights. (Please, Correct me if I'm wrong here, but this is what I saw, especially after other people’s reviews who said it was about queerness/gayness) Eventually Luca accepts himself as a sea monster (aka gay/queer) and proudly embraces who he is. Another scene that seems to make clear that this film is about more than just sea monsters is the end when the parents and grandparents are discussing their acceptance for Luca and they decide they don’t have to be afraid for him in his difference because he’s good at finding friends who accept him as himself. Luca is really cute and does a really good job of showing things. There was not a ton of exposition, though it is still there. The characters are all pretty believable and its very easy to get into the story. I really enjoyed it. (Except for how absolutely AWFUL Ercole was. I HATED him)

Raya and the Last Dragon is also a cute story that seems to REALLY want to teach the world (*Americans*) to come together in trust and understanding. The dragons all look really interesting and the world is really pretty. However, I struggled to really get into Raya. It has A LOT of exposition, which is understandable because it’s got multiple timelines that it needs to tie together, but at the same time it’s just so awkwardly done. The conversations seem so forced and unnatural. Some of the awkwardness may just come from the speaking style they chose to tell the story in, but its just hard to get into. This movie DOES have a lot of humorous jokes and gags that made me laugh, but there were a couple things that just felt too much. In an animated feature about talking Dragons I still had trouble suspending my disbelief when it came to the Con-Artist baby with the monkey gang. It was just too much. Sea Monsters and talking dragons were more believable than the acrobatic con-baby. Also the guy from Spine was VERY CLEARLY a slightly edited version of Hook Hand from Tangled (which I don’t entirely blame them for [because pandemi] but it was just even harder to get into the film when all I could see was Hook Hand). All in all Raya and the Last Dragon is a really cute movie about trust and friendship but I had trouble truly allowing myself to fall into the story.

Also, if you didn’t know, Luca has an after credit scene so look out for that.

Both of these films were made during the pandemic and therefore were made “at home.” (which is why I don’t completely blame them for Hook Hand) I think the little messages at the end of each of these movies is my favorite brand of end credit thing of all end credit things.

Luca: “Made in our slippers all around the Bay Area.”

Raya and the Last Dragon: “The making of this movie from over 400 individual homes was completely unprecedented, and relied entirely on the talent, ingenuity, and dedication of everyone at Walt Disney Animation Studios. The filmmakers would like to thank them for their tireless hard work, good humor, and most of all patience... with our inability to properly use the internet. (Dude, you’re still on mute.)”

All said and done, I truly enjoyed both of these movies but I prefer Luca and will probably watch it again soon (gotta look for those Easter eggs next time).

#Luca #Raya and the Last Dragon #Pixar #Disney #Movies #Movie Talk #Film #animated feature #Disney Pixar #Film Major

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untamedficrecs · 3 years

Note

hello! do you know if there are any fic abt jin ling's one month birthday where wwx turns up in koi tower like a fairy godmother or smth instead of being stopped on the way? or any like... politics heavy fic? idk why but I have a craving lol thank you for the hard work!

Hi! Wanna say sorry this took me so long to get too, I was planning on answering this sooner but some things came up. I tried my best to find something close to what you were looking for but I apologize in advance if they are not exactly it! I haven’t read all of these fics personally, so some of them might not have personal comments (and they might not actually be what you’re looking for ;;~;;), but here we go!! (sorry for how long this is gonna be!)

cradle by dragonesque

Rating: Teen & up | Canon Divergence | Status: Ongoing | Chapters: 32 | Word Count: 195979 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

☆ warning: graphic depictions of violence

Author’s Summary: After barely surviving the assassination attempt at QiongQi Path, Wei WuXian and the Wen Sect remnants are left to figure out how to protect themselves and their new lives. Meanwhile, the Jiang siblings and an unharmed Jin ZiXuan try to figure out who's bright idea was that stupid ambush. In Gusu, Lan Wangji panics at the idea of Wei WuXian's near death and tries to figure out whether to insist to stay by the Yiling Patriarch's side or hang back in the Cloud Recesses.

And Wei WuXian struggles with the idea of whether becoming a teacher, teaching demonic cultivation and setting up his own sect might not be a bad idea after all...

☆ personal comments: this is honestly one of my favorite fics...while it doesnt fit exactly the first thing you’re looking for (with him showing up/not being stopped...i mean he does show up...but he’s gotta plan some things out and recover before he shows up at koi tower); anyways there is definitely a lot of politics involved in this fic (from trying to form a new sect and an investigation going on with the wen remnants). i think you would enjoy it (or at least hope you will). I hope the author updates soon cause it has been a while, but its def long and will give you something to work through!

birthday party by waffles_4_breakfast

Rating: Explicit | Canon Divergence | Status: Ongoing | Chapters: 8 | Word Count: 25857 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

☆ warning: graphic depictions of violence

Author’s Summary: What if Jin Zixun didn't attack Wei Wuxian at Qiongqi Path and waited until the party to attack?

A fix-it fic where Wei Wuxian gets to attend the party and an entirely different cascade of events follow.

☆ personal comments: I definitely think this fic has a lot of potential with how it’s going. It’s pretty good so far, not really heavy on politics...I would say just a lot of sect drama almost?? (maybe that could still count as politics...but ya know) anyways def would recommend!

can you read the signs? by quiet_crash

Rating: Teen & up | Canon Divergence | One Shot | Status: Complete | Word Count: 5890 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Author’s Summary: At Qiongqi Path, Wei Wuxian loses his patience. What he doesn't lose is Jin Ling's present. After all, he's going to meet his little nephew and no force in the world or beyond is going to stop him.

☆ personal comments: hmmm this one is probably the closest to the first part of your ask!! wwx does in fact show up to koi tower having not been attacked (or well he was attacked but it was de-escalated before bad things could happen!). its set up in kinda like little snapshots of his life almost so yeah, its pretty good!

after a thousand crisis, you still remain innocent by lil_apple (sugafree_agustd)

Rating: General | Canon Divergence | Status: Complete | Chapters: 3 | Word Count: 10583 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Author’s Summary: Every tale has a start. Whether it was for better or worse.

Lan WangJi saved Wei WuXian from Qiongqi path, resulting Jin ZiXuan being alive and the cultivation world being aware of Jin Guangshan's lies. Wei WuXian witnessed Lan WangJi's punishment and went into seclusion with him.

This is the start of great redemption.

☆ personal comments: i really enjoy this fic...its more...hurt/comfort almost than anything else with sweet moments doused in there. politics are there but its not super heavy...but i figured i would recommend it just in case.

confessions of a drunkard by wei_ying

Rating: General | Canon Divergence | One Shot | Status: Complete | Word Count: 736 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Author’s Summary: the yiling laozu is very drunk at a-ling's one month celebration. hilarity ensues.

☆ personal comments: this is just a super short cracky fic i feel like...it’s not really what you’re looking for but I figured I would drop it in here just cause. c:

twelve moons and a fortnight by stiltonbasket

Rating: General | Post Canon | Status: Ongoing | Chapters: 40 | Word Count: 207079 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Author’s Summary: "Let me get this straight. You really want me to stand in for you while you help Jin Ling settle in at Koi Tower?"

"Who else do I have?" Jiang Cheng snaps, ears turning scarlet as Jin Ling tries to pretend he isn't listening. "Father trained you to serve as my deputy, didn't he? And don't say you don't remember, or I'll break your legs."

"Well, yes," Wei Wuxian manages. "Uh. I'll just let Lan Zhan know I'll be at Lotus Pier until you're back at home, then."

In which Wei Wuxian spends the year before his wedding as Yunmeng Jiang's acting sect leader, and the cultivation world's greatest love story finds its happy ending with the help of three juniors, a teenage romance, and one very involved (and exasperated) younger brother.

☆ comments: i haven’t read this fic yet, but i’m recommending it due to the tags...it’s not going to fit into your first category but i feel like it should fit into the politics heavy category...maybe...anyways this is on my own list to read so yeah

end of the bridge by shinocchi

Rating: Mature | Canon Divergence | Status: Ongoing | Chapters: 22 | Word Count: 170542 Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Author’s Summary: Wei Wuxian was ready to walk his dark single-planked bridge all by himself until when that very resolution was shattered by Lan Wangji, who found out he'd lost his core, when they were in the midst of Sunshot Campaign.

☆ comments: ^^ same comments as the one above

magical marriage ribbons by starandrea

Series: 8 works | Word Count: 293,578 | Pairing: Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian

Description: Wei Ying and Lan Zhan somehow find time to be student sweethearts at Cloud Recesses, and it changes the course of the war. Mashup of novel, donghua, and drama, with a little manhua as a treat. Anything that wasn’t AU before Cloud Recesses is certainly AU after.

Happy fix-it with a little plot and a lot of Lan Zhan and Wei Ying being super cute together. Also some babies and animal transformation as the series goes on.

☆ personal comments: i haven’t read all of these works but there are some works in there that have a focus on politics (not heavily focused). they’re really fun to read so i figure i would recommend them anyways.

aftermath by kouriarashi

Rating: Teen & up | Canon Divergence | Status: Complete | Chapters: 12 | Word Count: 57682 Pairing(s): Jiang Yanli x Jin Zixuan, Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen x Meng Yao

Author’s Summary: Jiang Yanli lifted her eyes up to Madam Jin and said, calmly, as if from a hundred miles away, “I am a daughter of the Yu sect. Did he think my mother only taught me how to pour tea?”

Or: the AU in which Jin Guangshan targets Jiang Yanli and she kills him before he can ruin everything.

☆ comments: sooo this is another fic on my list to read...i read the first chapter tho...and it looks pretty good...again like the other 2 fics that i haven’t read personally i’m recommending this purely on the tags and hoping that it will fit what you want! i figured i would throw in something that wasn’t just wangxian focused...i mean a yanli focused fic seems pretty interesting so i’m excited to read it!

leave no hatred behind by joythea

Rating: Teen & up | Fix-it fic | Status: Complete | Chapters: 23 | Word Count: 121459

Author’s Summary: Jiang Yanli knows she was raised to be a wife and a good mother. But she knew she didn't need her cultivation to find and stop the man responsible for her precious disciple brother’s death and robbing her son of a father.

☆ comments: ^^ same comments as above

#answered #fic recs #mdzs #mdzs fic rec #wangxian fic rec #jiang yanli fic rec #there are def more politics heavy fics out there...i myself just haven't read them...or its been a while and id really have to dig #anyways if you would like anymore recs just let me know!!#a lot of these are long fics soo hopefully this will give you something to read for a while #also if anyone has any fics that might fit in the categories let me know please!!

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

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The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts… ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”

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Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them. “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.

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Part 11

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Thank you for reading!

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part eighteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7450 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part eighteen: A week later Dean and Y/N are training for the Flagstaff Horse Show, a last repetition for Congress. They are enjoying the honeymoon phase of their relationship, until Bobby calls Dean into his office. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Little Boy’ - Barns Courtney (scene Singer house), ‘The Farm’ - Thomas Newman. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

“More leg, Y/N. Keep rhythm in that circle!” Dean has climbed up on the fence of the large arena. His hands are folded together and his elbows rest on his knees, the heels of his cowboy boots hooked behind the lower bar. He watches a horse and rider in front of him from under his hat, picking up even the tiniest flaw and highlighting what’s done well. As her trainer gives directions, Y/N pushes her calves a little tighter against Meadow’s flank, her right hand outstretched towards the mare’s ears as they finish their circle at speed. Elevated in her stirrups slightly, she makes sure the circle stays perfectly round while maintaining the constant one-two-three beat of hooves drumming against the earth. She can hear Dean’s strong and clear voice above the noise of the wind. “There ya go. Nice one!”

It’s 6.45 AM and the sun has just risen, its early rays of daybreak warming the headwrangler’s back. The nights are getting colder, even in the valley, so the warmth is pleasantly welcome. Summer has come to an end, which means the ranchers are following a different work schedule now. Downside; their midday siestas are no longer a thing, at least not until spring. Upside, they start an hour and a half later in the morning. When he says ‘they’, he means ‘everyone but him and Y/N’, because they have been training for Congress every day.

The perfect final repetition for the big event in Columbus is a local horse show in Flagstaff, coming up this weekend. Gold Canyon ranch is going there with a truckload of horses and both Jo and Dean are competing. The head wrangler convinced Y/N to sign up as well. They can test the new freestyle and see how Meadow does in competition, since it’s been a while since she last showed.

Pleased, he observes the woman who was born to ride. They are ready, no doubt about that. He knows it; the only person who needs to believe it now is Y/N. “Wanna practise a few stops and call it a day? Wouldn’t wanna overwork her,” he suggests when her horse comes past in a slow canter, or a lope. “No spins?” she checks, not confident with leaving such an essential element out of her training. Dean smiles at her eagerness; ever the perfectionist. “I’ve never seen you two screw up a spin. Don’t worry, they are solid,” he reassures.

She nods while looking over her shoulder, then straightens her back, following the movements of her horse. When she reaches the short end of the arena, she steers away from the fence, bringing Meadow onto the straight line out of another perfect circle. Y/N doesn’t get the chance to give aid to pick up momentum, because before they are fully straightened out, her partner speeds up already. “Circle her back. Let her wait,” Dean instructs. The cowgirl tilts her pelvis slightly and sinks deeper in the saddle, before swerving away from the line. She shakes her head disapproving. Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that.

“She keeps taking over,” Y/N ponders, slowing down when approaching her trainer. “She’s a smart horse. Most of the time that works in your favor, sometimes it doesn't. She wants to anticipate instead of letting you do the thinkin’. You don’t wanna discourage her enthusiasm, so what you gotta do is keep her busy. Give her something to do, vary your patterns. Throw her off her game a lil’ bit,” Dean explains to his pupil, who listens intently. “Ride down the line again, but don’t do the usual sliding stop at the end. Don’t speed up, don’t even think about the stop, okay? All you’re gonna do is let her wait for your call.” Y/N nods, feeling a little bit more confident after being given directions. “Okay.”

She moves her reins over Meadow’s mane, turning her around, gently aiding her to hustle forward in an easy canter. When she’s back at the short end of the large pen, the rider lets her horse roll away from the fence and onto the line again. She can feel the power under her, so much energy waiting for a release and ready to bolt. “Steady... Just sit and relax. Let her figure it out,” Dean calls out, loud enough to reach his student’s ears several yards away. A little confused Meadow pulls at the bit slightly, but Y/N does exactly what she’s supposed to do. Instead of punishing the behavior, she ignores it and lopes down the line, repeating the exercise. The second time around, the American Quarter mare already has her ears perked at her rider, waiting for a cue. “Change leads. Try the same thing on the right hand.” Trying to sit loose in the saddle, moving with the thousand pound animal under her, Y/N guides her horse onto the diagonal line and crosses the arena. Normally she would do a flying change in the center, a transition from left to right canter during the brief moment of suspension, almost like the horse is skipping. However, this time the rider decides against it, making Meadow wait until she reaches the other end, where Dean is watching his pupil closely from the fence. “Smart, well done! That’s riding, Yankee,” the head wrangler compliments.

With a smile on her face she continues the exercize, working on her horse’s assertiveness and patience instead of the actual pattern. Dean has a point; she can ride the test blindfolded. Hell, blindfold Meadow too and they would still be able to nail it, but only if the mare is willing to wait and follow her lead. The third time Y/N canters up the simple straight line, the bay mare relaxes, lowering her head a little more and calmly keeping a slow and steady rhythm. It’s exactly the response Dean was hoping for. “Next straight you do the sliding stop,” he says, just loud enough for the rider to hear, as if he’s worried the intelligent horse might pick up on it and understand what he’s saying.

Calm, Meadow turns the corner to the straight line, her breaths even, loose muscles rolling under her damp skin. This time Y/N can give the Quarterhorse an aid before she increases speed, which she does with powerful strides. When the mare is going down the line full throttle, Y/N counts down. Three… two… one…

The rider sinks deep into the leather of her saddle, pushing her stirrups forward and braces for the sudden stop. She can feel Meadow’s hindquarters lower when she plants her hocks into the soil of the arena. They slide several yards, leaving skid marks in the sand, and when the combination has come to a complete halt, Y/N moves her weight slightly to one side and takes the reins with her as well. The eager horse performs a rollback, a movement right after a stop during which the horse turns on her hind quarters and canters forward in the direction they came from. “That was awesome!” Dean exclaims. “Cool her down; she’s done for today.”

Pleased, Y/N lets her precious four legged friend transition to an easy jog, patting her on the shoulder. She feels beyond relieved that her training went so well. With her former trainer Marcel, the final repetition before a show usually meant bootcamp, pushing Meadow to her limits. But Dean treats her differently. He thinks things through, looks beyond the pattern itself and can really pinpoint what they need to work on, and often it’s not the routine itself, but the preparation and the foundation of horse riding.

“She felt really good, huh?” Dean looks up at the rider, seemingly content, as they exit the arena and walk back to the tack up area. “She did. I’m excited for tomorrow,” Y/N returns, halting under the Joshua tree. “Have you seen the starting order?” Dean nods as he glances up at her, narrowing his eyes when the sun peeks under his hat and blinds him. “I have.” “I’m fifth on the list,” the cowgirl mutters, not happy about her draw. “Any good riders in my class?” The head wrangler reads his student carefully, who is clearly fishing for answers. He’s very much aware where this is coming from. It’s a trait of hers, one that used to be much more evident, yet still surfaces every so often, especially in a new situation or uncertain times; she’s insecure.

“Does it matter?” her trainer reminds her. “Eyes on the ball, Yankee. Flagstaff is just a practice run for Congress.” “Sure, but I still want to win,” Y/N counters, matter of factly. “Oh, talking about Congress…” She looks down on Dean, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “I booked our room.” His brow perks up, staring at his girlfriend for a second. That seductive look in her eyes is giving him all sorts of ideas. “Our room?” “Yeah, most hotels were fully booked, and this room is one of the few I could find,” she adds, teasingly, swinging her leg over the front of her horse, making sure her spur doesn’t hurt Meadow’s neck. “And you know what? There’s only one bed.” “You don’t say,” Dean smirks, stepping closer and running his hand up her denim clad legs slowly. She nods, not dismounting her horse just yet, but taking off her western hat and hanging it on the horn of the saddle. Instead, she seductively keeps her eyes locked on his green ones, the sunlight bringing out a hint of amber in them. “We don’t have to worry about squeaky bunk beds, or waking half the ranch…” “Or Garth taking a piss,” Dean recalls. She laughs, leaning forward now and slipping from the saddle smoothly, but Dean catches her, holding her up.

The cowgirl folds her arms around his neck. “You know, I read this research paper on how sex actually increases dopamines, which results in the athlete performing better.” “Interesting,” Dean is barely able to stop his trademark grin from showing, the effort creating dimples in his cheeks. “Would you like to test that theory?” “I booked us a suite with a queen size bed. What do you think?” she chuckles, so comfortable in his arms. “Well, in that case I’m more than willing to go the extra mile for my favorite student,” he grins, lowering her to the ground, after which he kisses her sweetly.

Meadow turns her ear towards the pair when Y/N’s back brushes against the saddle. She doesn’t take advantage of her owner being distracted and waits patiently, even though she’s not tied up to the pole yet. If the cowgirl didn’t know any better, she’d claim her horse has been their matchmaker all along, casually walking a little closer to Dean’s horse whenever they rode side by side, even taking a liking to the wrangler, despite that she has never been a huge fan of men.

Dean reels the cowgirl in, letting his hand roam over her hips as he deepens the kiss. He can’t get enough of her, especially now that he has surrendered in the battle he was fighting with himself. Ever since he let his guard down and submitted to the feelings that lay deep, the weight he was carrying seems a little less. To have someone to share his life and his passion with, knowing that she’s his and no one else’s, it’s something he never expected to find. It’s certainly not something he feels like he deserves, but he has managed to push that denigrating voice to the back of his mind. They are in love with each other, that’s all he needs right now.

Dean watches Y/N after he parts from her, in awe by the joy that radiates from the girl who has such a hold on him. He has seen her beam before, when she’s amongst the crew, when he makes her laugh. But he hasn’t witnessed this level of bliss and fulfillment yet. She’s glowing, and damn, it looks good on her. Y/N blushes when she notices his captivated stare. “What?” “You look happy,” he comments, leaving a short kiss on her lips again. She smiles, her gaze drifting away as she lets her hands slip from behind his neck down his chest, analysing this contentment that she’s experiencing. She’s somewhat stunned by the conclusion; Dean is right.

“I feel like - like I’m finally at a point in my life where things are coming together,” she realizes. “I spent years of my life in books, riding as much as I could aside from classes, just to get better. I tried to find that ‘click’ with so many horses, fell off, failed...” She huffs, thinking of all the times she almost gave up. Overwhelmed, overworked. School, ride, sleep, repeat. All while Granddad tried to find her the perfect horse. “Then Meadow crossed my path.” She rubs the mare’s withers, earning an appreciative purr as the horse glances over her shoulder. The head wrangler watches the two, the unbreakable bond, the friendship that will last a lifetime. It’s an indescribable feeling to have such a strong connection with an animal, one he knows well.

Turning her attention to her horse, Y/N undoes the leather strap under Meadow’s chin and removes the bridle, replacing it with a halter. Meanwhile, Dean takes her hat off the horn and places it back on her head, earning a chuckle. He then continues to loosen the sinch and removes the saddle, humid clouds of warm air coming from Meadow’s back. “I couldn’t believe it when Grandpa bought her. You should’ve seen me; I went out of my mind,” she says, reminiscing while taking off Meadow’s leg protection. Dean chuckles at that, able to picture it perfectly. Her reaction to qualifying for Congress offers a good indication. Before he turns the faucet on, he hands the hose to Y/N, noticing the smile fading from her face. “But then he died. It took me a while to get back from that,” she admits, glad to have something to do to keep her mind occupied. Often the tears still prick in her eyes when she talks about her grandfather, but today she manages to keep them at bay. Mesmerized, Dean listens. He had guessed before that her granddad had passed away, since she used the past tense whenever she mentioned him. He never pushed her to talk about it, though, knowing that if the roles were reversed, he would appreciate the space too. “You got back up, though,” he says, hoping she can recognize the willpower it took. She nods, smiling faintly as she puts the hose aside. “I figured that after everything that he’s done for me, the least I could do was make him proud. I won State, I graduated a year early and cum laude.” “And then you ended up in this dump,” Dean fills in, trying to lighten the mood. She chuckles at his joke and shakes her head, untying Meadow.

“Actually, ending up in this ‘dump’ is probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me,” she states, leading her horse to her box, Dean in tow. “I’m learning a lot here, and not just about ranch work. It has grounded me. Plus, I met this very handsome cowboy, too.” Dean smirks. “Did ya?” Y/N hums, turning after she shuts the stable door. “Why do you think I can’t stop smiling?”

His eyes bounce between hers, only now realizing that he has a big part in her happiness. It humbles him, knowing that he makes her feel this way. Never before has he stood where he is standing now, in a relationship, let alone in a relationship with this one hell of a woman. Most of the time he has no idea what he’s doing, his gut feeling his only guidance, but apparently he’s doing something right. She has a spring in her step when she walks, her eyes shine when she laughs, and he is the reason.

Wanting to tell her she is his reason too, but not knowing the words to that song, he takes off his western hat to fit under hers and wields his lips to hers. The kiss is less playful than the ones earlier, but all the more meaningful. Her lashes brush against his freckled skin, her hands cup his face, fingertips tracing the stubble on his jaw. The cowboy’s heart grows warm, rising in his chest, the sensation having him light headed. She is everything he never knew he needed, and he’s never going to let her go.

They hear footsteps coming around the corner, but both the wranglers are too occupied to pay attention, until a familiar voice puts an end to their private moment. “Really? Could you not? I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Jo puts her hands on her small waist and halts when she notices the couple. “This is a lot to muster on an empty stomach, y’know?” Y/N chuckles after breaking away from her boyfriend, Dean rolls his eyes dramatically at his cousin. “Get lost, Jo,” he scolds, ignoring her request. “I’d advise you to get lost, because my dad is hot on my heels,” she returns smartly, before opening the door to the cafeteria, which is situated next to Meadow’s box.

The cowboy’s eyes grow wide as he quickly distances himself from the woman he held in his arms just a mere second ago, before Bobby turns the corner. Awkwardly, Dean fidgets with the brim of his hat as Y/N straightens out her shirt and wipes her hands on her jeans, hoping her tan will hide the blush that heats her cheeks. “Mornin’, Bobby,” Dean greets, trying not to act suspicious. His uncle looks at them now as if he only just noticed them, his weary eyes lingering on the intern for a short second before they focus on Dean. “Can I talk to you in my office?” he asks the head wrangler, even though it sounds more like an order. “S-sure,” Dean stammers, gulping nervously. “I’m getting my coffee first,” the ranch owner announces, before he disappears into the cafeteria. “Meet me there. You can let yourself in.”

Dean takes an apprehensive breath when the door closes, the tight feeling in his chest not so pleasant now. Y/N’s observing him; he can feel her eyes burning in the side of his head. “Why don’t you just tell him?” she sighs. “It’s been over a week.” “I think he might be on to us already,” he says, clearly not at ease with that presumption. “I just wanted to ease him in when he’s not… you know, cranky.” She frowns at that. “It’s Bobby; he’s always cranky. I thought Ellen--” “- Ellen said he was gonna be fine with us being together - yes - but Bobby specifically told me not to mess around with you,” Dean recalls, returning his gaze from the door to Y/N. “Well, I hope what we have going on here is a little bit more than you ‘messing around’ with me,” she returns with a tone. “Of course it is. Hey...” He lifts her chin up with a curled index finger, pleading to look him in the eye. “This, us… It means a hell of a lot to me. Please tell me you know that.” Her expression softens. She couldn’t be mad at him if she tried. “I know. I just wish we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore,” she admits. “I’ll tell him.” He presses his lips to hers quickly, glancing at the door before he does, making sure they will not get caught. “Save some bacon for me, will ya?” “Will do,” she promises, pushing him off gingerly before she opens the door to join the rest of the crew for breakfast.

He watches her leave, holding on to the sight of her as long as he can. She’s right; he needs to come clean. It doesn’t feel right to go behind Bobby’s back. Plus, with them leaving for Flagstaff this afternoon, he wants to be able to say out loud that he’s spoken for, aware there’s gonna be a few girls who might want to make a move on him. Not by any means is he worried he will not be able to resist the temptation, because as far as he’s concerned, there is none. But he doesn’t want to have to hide their relationship just because his uncle isn’t aware yet.

Dean puts his hat back on as he steps outside into the sun, which is steadily rising in the morning sky. Going over different versions of his announcement, he jogs up the stairs of the house, pulling back the screen door before he steps inside. Out of habit, he kicks his boots off and hangs his Stetson on the coat hanger, like he was taught when he moved in with his aunt and uncle at the age of fourteen.

The house is quiet, Ellen cooking up breakfast for the crew in the cafeteria at the stables. He crosses the living room and strolls into the kitchen, taking a glass from the cabinet and pouring himself some milk from the fridge. This place still has the same homey feel to it, it even smells the same as he remembered. He still knows his way around, even though he hasn’t slept under this roof since he was twenty. At a certain age, he wanted to be amongst the crew, hang with Benny and the other guys, and have a little more freedom. Jo joined them in the bunkhouse a couple of years later when she got rebellious and never really left, even though she still has a room upstairs.

Dean leans against the counter, taking a few gulps of milk. A smile forms on his lips when he notices some of the old photos on the fridge. Ellen always mixes them up, taking them out of albums and putting them in frames, some ending up on the refrigerator or pinned to the board in the office, others are on display in the saloon and in the cafeteria. One of the pictures portrays him on one of the first mustangs he trained, and next to him Jo on her pony, a little fellow called Ghost. He must have been fifteen or sixteen at the time, his cousin not older than ten. There’s another one of him and both Ellen and Bobby at his uncle’s fiftieth birthday; Dean was twenty-one then. The first birthday besides his own where he was allowed to drink, but he has never been a saint. God knows how many times he and Benny and Gabe started the Saturday shift hung over, before he reached the legal age. He grins at the memory.

His eyes glide over the photos, all seemingly normal snapshots, freeze frames of a country boy’s upbringing. But that’s it, isn’t it? It wasn’t normal to Dean. His life made a complete one-eighty when his aunt and uncle took their nephew in. They did it without question, never once asking for anything in return. They reminded him what it’s like to feel safe, loved, what it’s like to be a kid again.

It took him awhile before he could get past the years of worry, fear, and guilt, but eventually he found his way again. Has he forgotten about his childhood, the time he spent with his father and his little brother? Hell, no. He’ll never forget what happened, how the situation escalated and how everyone gave up on family except him, until there was nothing more the loyal son could do to stop the Winchesters from falling apart. But after all the trauma, the lesions on his soul, the nightmares, and endless regret, he found a place he calls home and is surrounded by people who, by blood or by heart, are his family.

The hinges of the screen door squeak and rattle when Bobby enters the house. Just like Dean did moments ago, the old man steps out of his boots, knowing very well that his wife will scold him if she finds dirty footprints on the wooden floors when she returns. He hobbles into the house, noticing his nephew in the kitchen. “Comin’?” he says, nodding at the office, further down the hall.

Dean empties his glass and leaves it in the sink, following his uncle. When he enters the room, he notices the stack of papers on the desk, open folders littering the flat surface. There’s an open filebox on the floor, numbers and letters scribbled in a notebook. Bobby has never been the person to keep his office tidy, especially with all the extra paperwork that comes with not owning a computer, but right now it looks like a bomb went off in here. “Take a seat.” Bobby circles the desk and puts down his coffee mug, closing the blinders to prevent curious eyes from peeking inside.

Dean does as told, a frown edging lines between his brows. The vibe he is picking up isn’t a pleasant one and he’s sensing this talk will not be about his relationship with the intern. Carefully, he reads the ranch owner, who sits down, rests his elbows on the oak desk and forks his calloused hands together. Bobby doesn’t look up at him, and it’s only now that his nephew notices how the circles under his eyes seem a little darker, his head hanging low between his shoulders, which carry so much weight. “We’re taking two of the youngsters to Flagstaff,” Bobby announces. “I need you to decide which ones, so I can send in the information to the auction committee.” “Whoa, what?” Dean says, confused. “I’ve barely haltered a handful. I thought you wanted them under saddle before we sold them?” “There’s no time for that.”

His uncle adjusts the worn baseball cap on his head, still not looking at the young man on the other side of his desk. “What do you mean, there’s no--” Dean stops when Bobby glares at him from under the hat, silencing his nephew with just a look. “Pick the two who you reckon would go for a good price. And I need you to compete two extra horses as well. The palomino stallion, you think you can show him in the four year old class?” “Yeah, I - I guess,” Dean says, realizing that riding five horses in competition is going to be a challenge, especially when it comes to time management, but he doesn’t have the courage to contradict the ranch owner. “Good. I don’t expect them to come home with us,” Bobby acknowledges, picking a folder from the file case next to his desk, flipping through ownership certificates and taking out a file. “I contacted some buyers.” “Which one’s the fifth you want me to bring?” Dean asks, carefully. “Joplin,” Bobby states.

Dean closes his eyes briefly, cursing internally. He knows Y/N has grown fond of the feisty mare; it’s gonna hurt her to see the little dark horse leave. “Joplin ain’t the easiest to ride and I can’t use her for the tourists; she’s the obvious choice. She’s good for ranch work and with the cattle, so I’ll sign her up for the cutting competition.” The ranch owner takes out Joplin’s file as well, adding it to the small stack in front of him. “The intern did some cattle work with her, right?” Dean nods. “Yeah, rode her on the trail too.” “Y/N can ride her then, they seem like a good fit. Discuss it with her, let me know if she wants to,” the old man decides, looking up at his right hand when he stays quiet. “I contacted Jody Mills; she might have some clients for Joplin.” “Bobby, what the hell is going on?”

Dean’s worried eyes study his uncle, an unraveling stare boring through the rancher’s tough armor, who is unable to hold his gaze. The weariness seeps through the cracks when Bobby rubs his forehead, leaning back with a sigh, the old desk chair creaking. “We’re in bad waters, ain’t we?” the wrangler realizes. Bobby still doesn’t look up, but nods quietly, admitting to the painful truth. He seems ashamed, as if he - the head of this family - is failing. The man opposite of him can feel the pressure his uncle is experiencing; he knows it well. Just the sheer thought of the ranch being in much more trouble than he originally anticipated has him anxious, his heart rate picking up. These lands, the company, the horses… could they all be at risk?

“How bad?” he asks firmly, even though he’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer. “I just ordered stable bedding, hay and pellets without havin’ paid for the last bulk. I can’t pay you or the boys by the end of the month, unless we make a profit in Flagstaff,” Bobby admits. “Then there’s the mortgage, bank loans, taxes...” Dean leans his elbow on the armrest of his chair, rubs his temple. “What happened to the money we earned on the livestock you sold Rufus?” “Used it on the electrical bill I was behind on and paid the city and the bank. I owed Caleb a lot of money too.” The wrangler’s eyes flick up at his uncle again. “So it’s all gone?” Bobby nods again. “Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

Troubled, he reaches for his coffee, taking a sip of the hot brew, wishing it was whiskey. From under his cap he watches Dean process the information, the knowledge doing a number on him, even though he acts tough. Bobby knows his nephew. Hell, he’s been living on his land for so long, he considers him a son. He knows how he values this place and the people and animals living here. He knows how much he craved shelter when he stood on the doorstep fifteen years ago. That’s exactly what this place is for him: his safe haven. And now that a storm is coming, now that his world threatens to cave, he’s losing his footing as well.

Dean leaves his chair, paces up and down the small room twice, his arms crossed and pondering on a solution. “You can keep my salary,” Dean says, “I know it’s a drop in the ocean, but I’ve got a roof over my head, that’s all I need. I have some savings too--” “Dean, I don’t want your money,” Bobby makes clear, his voice less stern. “This ain’t your cross to bear.” “Hell, it ain’t!” he exclaims, raising his arms up in despair. “This is my home too, and I’m not about to lose it!” “Do you really believe I’m givin’ it up that easy? It’s my life’s work, damn it!” his uncle raises his voice to level with Dean’s, but tones it down when he continues. “No one is losing their home. We’re just gonna have to save and make money before this spins out of control, stay afloat until business picks up again. That’s why we’re gonna bring more horses to Flagstaff, see if we can make some deals.”

Dean calms down slightly after his outburst, but is nowhere near at ease. He places his hands on his sides now, focusing on the floorboards. After a deep breath he collects himself. “We can take the large Pinto and the red dun Mustang for the auction,” he determines. “Alright,” Bobby writes it down, picking up the phone to make the call. “We’re still leaving at three?” His head wrangler nods, burdened, taking the que and turns towards the door. “Son?” Dean halts in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the man who has been more like a dad to him than his own father ever was. A few strands of light squeeze through the blinds, illuminating the mess they are in, the rest of the room dark, shadows looming over his uncle. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Ain’t the first recession this ranch survived,” Bobby reminds him, before he dials the number he wrote down earlier.

With a forced smile Dean watches him for a few more seconds before he leaves the office, the mask dropping from his face the moment he’s out of sight. With the unsettling information still mulling over, he puts on his boots again and takes his hat from the hall stand, walking onto the porch. He needs a moment to collect himself and let’s a heavy sigh escape his lungs, his eyes wandering over the scenery before him. Gold Canyon Ranch: sacred ground, their harbor, his church. The barn with the high doors through which he walked countless times, the Joshua tree that has watched over the horses for centuries. The saloon where on a good night laughs roar and beer flows. The bunkhouse, the crooked little prairie shed where he has a room and a bed of his own. And the Singer’s residence, where he knocked on the front door in search of refuge when he was fourteen years of age, standing in the exact same spot where he’s standing now.

The sun hits him when he descends from the steps, the source of light warming the earth rapidly, despite autumn approaching. A faint headache is throbbing behind his eyes already, the conversation getting to him much more than he wants it to. Bobby tried to lessen the blow and reassure his nephew, but he knows very well it’s ten minutes to midnight. He dismisses the possibility of losing everything all over again; he can’t think like that, it will only slow him down. What he can do is think of a way to prevent this train from derailing.

He attempts to leave the worry behind, because he can’t let the rest of the crew know just how grim the situation is. Thankfully, the guys have already started their workday. He can hear the tractor pulling up behind the barn and there’s a wheelbarrow in the stable alley. Garth whistles to a country song on the radio as he empties a box with large scoops, while Jo leads a saddled horse to the arena. A quick glance through the window of the cafeteria tells him Ellen already went to the saloon, probably to start on lunch for the group of eight tourists that are currently accommodating the guest houses, but he does spot Y/N, who’s wiping down the table. When he pushes open the door, a bright smile comes his way, her light burning away the dark clouds hanging over him.

“Hey! I risked my life defending your bacon, but I managed to save you some. Scrambled eggs and two buns too. Want me to heat it up real quick?” she asks, busy putting away the cutlery and dishes she washed. “Nah, that’s alright,” he says, slumping down in the chair where Bobby usually sits. “Here.” She puts the plate down in front of him, the smell of crispy meat filling his nose. He’s not all that hungry anymore, but he starts cutting the bread either way, knowing she made an effort to make sure he had something to eat.

“How did he respond?” she wonders after a moment of silence, drying off the frying pan. Dean was about to take a bite when he freezes, only now realizing what she’s talking about. Shit, with everything going on, it completely slipped his mind why he wanted to talk to Bobby in the first place. Y/N notices the hesitation, followed by a pair of shameful eyes coming her way. She sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Dean…” “I know. I’m sorry.” He squeezes the bridge of his nose while he shuts his eyes, feeling like an idiot. “Something came up. He didn’t call me in because of us.”

The cowboy glances up warely, noticing her disappointment. If anything, he doesn’t want her to think he just forgot, or worse - that he chickened out. But business is blending with personal life here; he’s not sure if he should share with her what his boss just told him. “Why did he call you in then?” she wonders, unable to hide the discontent in her voice. “He, uh - he wants me to take more horses to Flagstaff,” he says. “To sell them.” “Oh…” Y/N puts away the pan in one of the lower cabinets. “Which ones?” “Two of the youngsters we brought in earlier this month. Bon Jovi - the four year old - and...” Dean hesitates, hating to be the bearer of bad news. “And Joplin.”

In shock the cowgirl turns to him, staring at the head wrangler. “Bobby is going to sell Joplin?” “I wish it could’ve been different,” he half apologizes, feeling sorry for Y/N. “I know you like her a lot.” She hangs the dish towel to dry and turns to lean on the back of the chair. Her airway is closing, but she swallows down the lump that builds. Dean is right; she grew fond of the little dark Quarter. Not everyone can handle her fiery spirit, but the cowgirl could, forging a strong bond between them within a short period of time. Somehow, she never expected Joplin to leave the premises. “It’s not your fault,” she says after clearing her throat. “I’m the one who gets attached to horses who aren’t my own.” The wrangler observes her, well aware she’s trying to be professional about this. “Bobby hoped you could show her at the competition,” he continues. “I can do that,” she agrees, keeping her voice steady.

Dean absently eats his bacon and egg sandwich while Y/N tidies up, giving her hands something to do while she processes what he just told her. He watches her rinse a cloth and clean the kitchen counter, rubbing over a spot to make a stain go away. Not sure if he should say anything, he focuses on finishing his plate, but it doesn’t take long before he can’t stand the silence. “You okay?” he checks, concerned. “I guess,” she turns to him, finally taking a second to sit down. “How about you?” Dean wipes his hands down his jeans to get rid of the crumbs sticking to his fingers and looks at her, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m used to horses being sold.” “That’s not what I mean,” Y/N returns, not at all surprised that he acts like there’s nothing going on. “What’s bothering you?”

She reads her boyfriend carefully when he looks at her, dropping his gaze the moment her eyes reach too deep into his soul. For a few short seconds he seems to consider telling her what’s going on, but then he shakes his head. Worry swims in circles in her stomach, his inability to open up once again having her question herself. “It’s not us, I promise,” he says sincerely, reaching for her hand across the table when he notices her doubt. “And I wanna tell you, but I can’t discuss this with anyone other than Bobby or Ellen.” “Business related?” she guesses. When Dean nods, it clicks in her head. “The ranch isn’t doing so well, is it?”

As if he got caught committing a crime, his eyes shoot up to meet hers. Shit, has he said too much? She might be his girlfriend, but she’s also the intern. She works for Bobby, for God’s sake! This isn’t information he’s supposed to share with anyone. Unsure of how to respond, he averts his gaze, but she squeezes his hand to call him back. “Dean, this is kind of my field, remember? I can see the tell-tale signs,” she reminds him.

The head wrangler holds his breath, catching his bottom lip with his teeth, but then exhales burdened, accepting she has figured it out. Self-conscious about his own vulnerability, he runs his thumb over the back of her hand as he stares at nothing in particular, focusing on the motion. Bit by bit, the curtain is pulled back, revealing just how much this newfound knowledge worries him. “Bobby says we’ll figure it out, but things are bad,” he admits after a long silence.

She nods slightly, acknowledging his statement. Honestly, she’s not surprised. She wondered how the ranch was able to run on a handful of tourists and trail rides. With only three horses in paid training, it’s impossible to generate an income that covers the dozen others owned by the family, which can’t be sold for a fair price now that the market is at an all time low. She cannot imagine the mortgage on this enormous place. There’s employees who depend on a salary, animals which need to be fed and cared for, machinery that needs maintenance. Selling stock and letting go workers; they seem like desperate measures to her, measures which will not cut it during the economic crisis this country is currently suffering from, one that might drag on for years. It’s a postponement of execution.

Dean swallows thickly, allowing her to have a glimpse of his crippling concern. He feels weak to admit it, to admit to her that the walls around him are crumbling. But a joke and a laugh cannot save him this time, there is no way he can dance around the fact that he has zero control over the financial situation, and it scares the living hell out of him. “If we lose the ranch, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he confesses. “This place is all I have.” Hell, this place is all that I am, he thinks to himself. Because, let’s face it, when you take away the horses and strip him from the opportunities he’s offered here, he’s nothing but a highschool dropout with an old pick up truck.

“That’s not true,” Y/N dismisses. “You’ve got family, ranch or not. And you have me now.” He carefully glances up at her, taken aback by the comfort in her voice. A pair of soft eyes wait for him, strengthening her words. He mirrors the small smile she’s carrying, eased by her promise. “What if I take a look at the books?” she offers. “If Bobby is okay with that, of course.” “You - You’d do that?” Dean returns, stunned, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, of course. I mean, don’t expect miracles by any means, but I can shed some light on it. Maybe get an overview of the assets and liabilities, set up a balance sheet if there isn’t one, etcetera,” she states, making it sound like it’s no big deal. “I analyzed several large companies for my thesis.”

Impressed, the head wrangler takes in the young woman who is so wise for her age. He only now realises the intern might be the one who could steer this ship away from the massive iceberg they are heading towards. Of course she can’t magically make money appear out of thin air, but he doubts Bobby has the skill set of someone with a master’s degree in business. “You’re awesome, know that?” he huffs. “Don’t you forget it.” She grins at him, getting up from her seat and taking his plate. Before she can rinse it and reach for the dish brush, Dean’s arms snake around her waist and pull her against his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder. He kisses her on the cheek, leaning his head against hers and ignoring his western hat when it tilts to the side. “Thank you.” She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Y/N turns in his arms, trapped between him and the kitchen counter. She looks up to meet his admiring gaze, adjusting the Stetson on the cowboy’s head and letting her hands linger, wrists crossed behind his neck. “I’m beginning to understand just how much the ranch means to you. And frankly, this place is starting to mean a lot to me too,” she admits.

The morning light sheds diagonal beams through the set of four square windows, highlighting her hair and her beautiful smile. Dean drinks her in for a couple of solid seconds, before he dips down and kisses her. How she is able to vanquish his inner panic, just by offering her full support, doesn’t cease to amaze the wrangler. He’s not getting his hopes up, he knows the financial problems are bigger than she can fix with a run-through and a few budget cuts. But she’s trying. She’s doing her part. She’s here to help, not only the ranch, but him as well. And just like that, the future seems a lot less grim than it did a moment ago. They will figure it out and things will be okay, as long as he has her by his side.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nineteen here

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