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gogobootz1 · 1 year ago

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At War

Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]

Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.

Word count: 2k

Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time.

The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him.

The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year.

You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end.

“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate.

You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"

“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”

“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating.

“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault.

“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back.

You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?”

“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you.

“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow.

“Eat shit!” You call out after him.

“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.

“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work.

Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great.

“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings.

“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today.

“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio.

“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously.

“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage.

“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?”

“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling.

Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.”

He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?”

You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket.

You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”

“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report.

“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch.

Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.”

“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them.

“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table.

“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance.

“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly.

“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.”

“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come.

Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short.

“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash.

“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old.

“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him.

“And when was that?”

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been.

“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is.

“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher.

“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?”

“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures.

“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock.

“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod.

“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed.

“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?”

You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.

“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.”

“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.

“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door.

“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head.

An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.”

“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head.

“Agreed.”

You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit.

“Did you try-“

“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”

“No way,” he shakes his head.

“What?”

“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas.

“You actually embraced the sleepover?”

He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits.

“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot.

“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.”

“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods.

“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment.

“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.”

He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”

“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”

He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to.

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I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3

#luke castellan x reader #pjo fanfic #luke x reader #pjo series #luke castellan #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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silverthelovebug · 9 months ago

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Yasammy Week ~ Day 3: Prom

“Mom, we really have to go.” Yaz mumbled, eyeing the large pickup truck Sammy’s father had parked near the entrance of the Gutierrez Cattle Ranch. The engine had been running for little over an hour now, no thanks to her misty eyed mother, who decided she needed an album’s worth of photos of their Prom Dresses. Sammy didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she was fully on board for the mini photo shoot. Yaz rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Prom could wait a few minutes more.

@yasammyweek

Not sure how to feel about Mrs. Fadoula’s angle here, but it’s good enough !!! Also, yes, Yaz is holding a mum, because Sammy is a Texas girl and she wants to spoil her girlfriend. I know they’re more of a Homecoming thing, but she’s just extra like that :3 (Yaz has no idea what to do with it). Yes, Sammy will be going to prom in cowboy boots, because Yaz is wearing sneakers under her dress, too.

Their designs here are based on what we see of them in the finale of Camp Cretaceous, when Yaz and Sammy grew out their hair. Very pretty :3

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vallettamango · 6 months ago

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Will Solace Headcanons

Swiftie to heart

Also loves Conan Gray (so does Nico) he relates to his music in many ways, especially growing up queer in Texas

Sun chips and Doritos guy

Apollo cabin listens to 80s music (lots of love songs) at the courtesy of the wonderful taste of their older siblings Will and Kayla

Apollo cabin is filled with music posters (wills personal favorites are the ziggy stardust David Bowie poster and the ABBA one above his bunk)

Sings in the shower, literally you could walk by the communal showers on Apollo cabins shower day and you’ll definitely hear all them harmonizing to baby by Justin beiber

Golden retriever boy <3 !!

Loves colorful band aids

Favorite camp snack is red jello

Can play simple songs on guitar

His favorite songs to play is stick season and hey there Delilah at campfires

Wears lots of friendship bracelets (has matching sun and star ones w Nico and a rainbow one 🏳️‍🌈 :)

Kids love him

Wears 2 small thin silver or gold hoops earrings

Writes letters to his mom from camp (and to friends on quests) when he’s not busy in the infirmary

Has a stick and poke of a sun on the back of his shoulder he did with his siblings on the last night of camp (Apollo cabin>>) obviously w a safely sterilized needle

Really wants a nose piercing he’s hoping to get one next time he visits home

Only wears flip flops or Birkenstocks at camp in the summer

Had a cowboy boot phase when he was 7 (hes our fav southern boy ok.)

Loves having minty fresh breath (from tic tacs)

Has a small collection of different scented hand sanitizers he rotates in the infirmary (like the ones from bath and body works)

Lovessss Peach cobbler (same) and coleslaw especially from his hometown

Caffeine addict

Loves tangled and treasure adventure movies (like Goonies)

Current fav books are Hearstopper and the song of Achilles

Elvis music makes him nostalgic because his mom would play it all the time back in Texas (he listens to it when he’s sad)

Chaotic bisexual

He realized he was bi after a boy kissed him during recess in grade 5

Had a crush on his lifeguarding coach when he was in grade 8

He only ever really ever came out to his mom (who was supportive) other than that people usually assume he’s straight or just gay if he’s with Nico

He never officially came out to his siblings they kind of know or figured it out but Will never feels awkward talking about his sexuality

Makes playlist for every occasion and people (a Nico playlist obviously, cleaning the cabin w his siblings playlist, working in the infirm etc)

Occasionally enjoys painting (specifically nature landscapes)

He loves picnic/lunch dates w Nico and baking short bread cookies for their dessert

He and Nicos fav holiday is Halloween they love dressing up in matching costumes (last year they dressed as Nick and Charlie from Hearstopper!)

He obviously has very warm hands

When Will can’t sleep on hot summer nights Nico puts his cold hands up his shirt

He took Nico to an Arctic Monkeys concert for his birthday

Apollo is the biggest Solangelo shipper. he even recited a poem about them to them (which embarrassed Will so much) “omg dad please stop!”

He and Nico bicker like an old married couple

He has freckles all across his back and shoulders

A morning person (obviously) he (and his siblings) get up early to clean the cabin and then he goes on a walk around camp during sunrise. If he has extra time he preps the infirm

Lock Screen would be a photo of the camp strawberry field on a sunny day or everyone at camp fire

#will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #headcanon #apollo cabin #the trials of apollo #cabin 7 #kayla knowles

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penvisions · 10 months ago

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by the firelight {jack daniels x reader}

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x Reader

Summary: You enjoy a rustic dinner with your sweet cowboy.

Word Count: 637

Warnings: food, consumption of food, teasing banter, established relationship, hint of spice, nothin' too serious!

A/N: this was such a fun lil thing to make for the charcuterie board challenge hosted by @happypedrohours. i got jack and gouda for my wonderful pairing and i hope i did it justice!

-> navigation || main masterlist

The heat from the campfire is sweltering; causing sweat to bloom in the backs of your knees, across the brow of your forehead, the spaces beneath your chest. All of your skin sensitive to the touch as it doesn’t seem to cool down like the man tending to the pot over the fire had claimed. The sun was setting but yet it wasn’t take the heat along with it, if anything it was only settling lower to the land.

“Food should be ready in a few, just want the cheese to get all crispy on top. Know you like a good crunch, don’t you sugar?” The twang of the man’s voice pulls you from your reverie, eyes lifting from the flames licking at the bottom of the grill plate and to the broad stretch of his shoulders in a plain white shirt. The man in question is turned to face you, the profile of his face stark against the brightness lighting him up from behind. His brow is raised in a teasing manner, his lips quirked up equally so.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Oh c’mon, sugar. This was the only time we could get away and you know it.”

You purse your lips, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of agreement. But he was right, the ranch was busier than ever. His rodeo shows selling out and putting extra work on everyone, summer settling in nicely as the solstice finally dawns the season. It would be a busy one, his name making papers and articles online, everyone clamoring for a piece of the ‘Cowboy Wonder’, his photos holding his own atop a bucking horse everywhere bringing families and fawning women in droves.

The sharp scent of smoked chipotle catches your attention as it wafts in the steam from the closed pot, your face showing surprise. You knew he had run to the store that morning as you lay in bed, tired from the long workday of tending to the horses and then riding your own, both in the show and in the privacy of your shared home. The deal was you gather and keep track of the camping supplies while he gets the food and packs up the truck.

“Is that…?”

“Smoked chipotle gouda, you betcha!”

“Jack…” You can’t help the whine of your voice, that particular cheese was expensive. He had the money, you both did, but while you did enjoy the simple things in life, that was beginning to slowly shift as gifts and endorsements rolled in, ticket sales skyrocketing and higher cuts added to your checks. The ranch you worked for doing their best to keep you both happy as they gained renown.

But Jack is standing, placing the pot onto the small camping table he had set up beside the fire for him to chop and mix up stuff. His trademark stenson placed on the picnic table your seated at as he sidles up close to you. His large, calloused hands are cupping your face and his eyes are trained solely on you even as the sounds of the campsite ramp up all around, it truly was dinner time. You melt, much like the beloved cheese over what you were sure was his mother’s famous chili recipe bubbling in the pot. The flare of worry at the minor fortune spent on something he knew you liked waning as you feel him press a comforting kiss to your forehead, the hat you donned already removed.

“Only the best for my sugar. Nothing else will do.” He’s pressing his lips to your cheek, moustache tickling but you couldn’t care less as heat begins to consume you from the inside out. The feel of his hands around your waist, the press of his chest to your own, the breath he’s sharing with you now, all of it was worth it. The heat of the day turns into the heat of two bodies as the sun dips even lower, casting periwinkle and cotton candy pink streaks across the evening sky.

#dev writes #kingsman golden circle #jack daniels #jack daniels fanfiction #drabble #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #established relationship #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #cowboy #ranch life

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sturniluvr · 11 months ago

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show your pride

Nick Sturniolo x bisexual!bsf!reader

word count: 1,069

warnings: swearing, nothing else i don’t think, lmk if there’s anything i missed

requested: yes/no

summary: Nick and his bisexual best friend go to pride together

A/N: this may not be entirely accurate to what a pride parade is like as I’ve never been to one. also sorry if your names are Amelia or Bella😭 also idk if I really like this, feels kinda rushed but whatever.

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N and Nick were currently in his bathroom applying face paint to their cheeks, Y/N having the bi flag on both her cheeks and Nick has the gay flag on his. Y/N also had her beaded bracelet on that were the colours of the bi flag, pink, purple and blue. The pair applied some space camp lip balm in the mirror, Y/N using her favourite, juicy watermelon and stashing it in her shorts pocket and Nick doing the same with his own lip balm.

“We look so fucking good girl!” Nick said excitedly, causing a laugh to escape Y/N at his excitement.

“That we do Nicolas!” she replied with a smile on her face. They took a quick mirror selfie before they exited his bathroom and grabbed their flags off his bed and walked out his bedroom, closing the door behind them and made their way downstairs to wait for Matt so he could drop them off at a diner they’d planned to go to before the parade to get something to eat and drink.

Shortly after, Matt Nick and Y/N got in the car, Chris had decided to stay home with Nate as he was visiting LA for the week.

After getting dropped off, they decided to also look in some shops. In one shop Nick found a set of pink cowboy hats.

“Oh my god! Y/N, we have to get these they’re perfect!” Nick exclaimed, she turned around to see what he was holding and as soon as she laid her eyes on the cowboy hats she started nodding her head eagerly, they finished looking round the store and made their way over to the checkout to pay for their items and left the store, immediately putting their hats on, they looked at each other and started laughing.

“We look fucking ridiculous but also so cool.” Nick laughed, she nodded her head in agreement, the pair did look rather silly, but they couldn’t care less, it was pride and there was bound to be some extravagant outfits, from drag queens especially which the best friends were both looking forward to.

half hour later

The parade had begun, Y/N and Nick were walking up the street in the crowd, their heads held high and proud with their respective pride flags wrapped round their necks like capes and their pink cowboy hats on their heads.

Nick felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned to his side and was met with a sweet teenage girl, he smiled at her.

“Hey, is everything okay?” His protective side kicked in slightly seeing the slightly distressed look on the younger girl's face. She nodded hesitantly.

“Yeah, I just can’t seem to find my girlfriend, and I recognised you both, would it be okay if I stuck with you until I find her just so I’m not completely alone, I’ve never been to LA before.”

“Yeah of course you can stay with us sweetheart” Nick replied with a smile, which she returned.

“What’s your name?” Y/N asked the teenage girl “also I love your makeup it’s incredible!” She added on smiling sweetly.

“Thank you! Yours is amazing too. My names Amelia, and my girlfriend’s name is Bella.”

The trio continued to make small talk as they carried on down the street with the parade.

Later on, Amelia had found Bella and the couple decided to stay with Y/N and Nick and the four walked along, singing at the top of their lungs laughing.

Amelia and Bella eventually had to leave Y/N and Nick to find Bella’s mom.

“Before we leave, can we get a photo?” Bella asked, knowing her girlfriend was probably too shy to ask and they were both fans of the triplets and Y/N.

“Of course, let’s take one now before you have to go. Y/N get your hat on woman” nick yelled jokingly at the 19 year old, she jokingly rolled her eyes in response and put her hat on her head, the four took a selfie on Amelia’s phone and the younger teenagers left the pair.

time skip

Y/N and Nick had got to the end of the parade and were now in a field in front of a stage ready for the performances, Y/N was most excited for Reneé Rapp, she had the biggest crush on the singer, and Nick was most excited for her aswel, joking about trying to set Y/N and Reneé up on a date.

Reneé was about to make her way onto the stage and Nick quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and started recording Y/N’s reaction to seeing her celeb crush. Y/N started screaming the second she saw the blonde walk on the stage.

Her first song was Y/N’s favourite ‘pretty girl’ because it resonated with her so much as she had a similar experience with one of her ex friends.

“SO KEEP ON PRETENDING PRETTY GIRL” the duo screamed at the top of their lungs and laughing with each other, Y/N recording on her phone for memories.

Reneé had some a few more songs and there was a few more acts after her and the some speeches from LGBTQ+ groups and representatives, Y/N and Nick cheering in agreement whenever they agreed with something one of them said.

an hour later

The duo had gone to a nearby McDonald’s and got food while waiting on their uber to come pick them up.

“Thank you for today, it’s been amazing Nick” Y/N spoke with a smile on her face as she looked at her best friend of 7 years. He smiled back at her.

“Of course, babes, I always have an amazing time with you, you’re my favourite person, alongside Matt and Chris unfortunately” he joked.

“You love them don’t lie” she spoke sincerely, she loved all three of the boys like brothers ever since she had met them, they all immediately clicked when they had met at the start of high school.

“Yeah, I do, but you’re a lot more tolerable than them two” he laughed, she nodded knowing how much of a handful Matt and Chris could be at times.

They got home later that night, took their makeup and face paint off, got comfy clothes on and Y/N, Nick, Matt and Chris all sat on the couch watching a film with snacks and Y/N ended up stopping the night in Nick’s room with him where they watched RuPaul’s drag race with snacks and Dr Pepper and answering Snapchat replies from fans on Nick’s story.

🏷️: @imwetforyourmom @thenickgirl

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bombshelllblonde · 2 years ago

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rdr2 head canons about modern technology, social media, etc-

dutch is convinced the 5G is ruining our brains, covid vaccines are just microchips, all the right wing conspiracy theories are correct. he owns a flip phone and uses t9 word to communicate. texts that arthur and john receive look like this “COME HOME SON. ND 2 TLK ABT PLAN. DO NOT REPLY”

hosea has an ipad, a kindle, a laptop, a home PC, and alexa echo, an amazon fire tv, a smart fridge, etc. he is actually one of those old guys who accidentally went viral one time on tiktok and he has a loyal following

the video that went viral was jack recording the fight that broke out in camp between hosea and bill. that video got over 1 million views and everyone loved it

jack helped hosea make his own tiktok account and he immediately gained followers overnight

arthur is the “hot son” who doesn’t like to be on hosea’s tiktoks. arthur always turns his back when hosea tries to include him in the videos

john is the other son that actually wants to be on camera but Half of hosea’s comments are “where’s the hot cowboy, we don’t want the greasy one”

sean pretends to be a twitch streamer and only plays truck simulator or untitled goose game. he has about 300 viewers and he gets money just because of his accent

charles has a facebook but it hasn’t been updated since 2009. his profile picture is a stock photo he found online of a bison with one of those BLM frames around it. his youtube recommendations are just asmr pottery making videos

bill gets into fights on reddit constantly. moderators have banned him from almost every subreddit he has joined, except for two sentence horror stories. he loves that subreddit too much so he leaves it alone

lenny has 76 unopened text messages from the last 6 months. his gmail account has over 20k emails

trelawny loves snapchat. he loves a multi part snapchat story rant from the inside of his tesla, while he is wearing the cat ears filters. he sets the tesla to auto pilot so he can use both his hands to speak and record and animate the retelling of the “bullshit from the starbucks drive thru”

javier is strictly android

tilly is strictly apple

kieran got a hand me down blackberry phone and still uses it to this day. no one understands how it still works

ok well that’s it

bye

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr 2 #dutch van der linde #john marston #hosea matthews #bill williamson #josiah trelawny

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lovelylogans · 2 years ago

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the parent trap

the masterpost

“So,” Remus says slowly. “If your Dad is my Dad…”

“...and your Pa is my Papa…”

Remus stares at the seam of the wedding photo, made whole again after more than a decade. His Pa, Patton, familiar with his cowboy-handsome, weather-beaten face and his dimpled grin and his big, calloused hand resting over his new husband’s, even if Remus has never seen him look this smitten ever.

“And we’re both born on October 11… then, Roman. You and I are… like… brothers.”

And his Dad—Janus—smiling coyly, handsome in the way of magazine models, so completely a stranger to Remus with just this scrap of a photograph to serve as any way to know him, really know him. The way Roman knows him. The way Remus has been dying to know him all his life.

“Remus,” Roman breathes out, disbelieving. “We aren’t just brothers. We’re twins.”

Remus wonders, in a daze, if seeing the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it is for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…

But then it clicks.

“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”

or: it's a parent trap AU for @tss-storytime with fanart by @tastic-in-its-finest!

warnings: pranks and practical jokes, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of underage drinking (in the context of a child trying a sip of wine), sibling rivalry and bonding, please let me know if i've missed any!

pairings: janus/patton, logan/virgil, brief patton/male oc

word count: 80k

notes: a few notes before we begin: first, thanks so much to morgan for their fanart for this fic!!! it's so cute, please like and reblog and do all that fun stuff!!! second, thanks to the folks over at the big bang for organizing this whole event—i know firsthand how complicated that can get, and you are so appreciated!!! this is technically a '90s au, but a '90s au in terms of the fashion and lack of social media/cell phones, not any of the homophobia. i hope you all enjoy!!!!

chapter one: prologue Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.

chapter two: welcome to camp walden! Welcome to what we like to think of as the most beautiful spot on God's green earth—Camp Walden.

chapter three: en garde The boys come to blows. (With practice épées, but in their minds, it’s equally as serious.)

chapter four: riposte The boys come to blows. (With words and stitching.)

chapter five: black card The boys come to blows. (With a temporary reversal of gravity, oodles of chocolate sauce, and finally, some semblance of adult interference.)

chapter six: isolation station The boys spend a great deal of their time considering coming to blows. Until suddenly, they don’t want to fight at all anymore.

chapter seven: operation augustus The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.

chapter eight: let's get down to business! The boys begin to plot. Camp Walden trembles in fear.

chapter nine: to defeat… the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively! The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.

chapter ten: domine dirige nos Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.

chapter eleven: eureka! Roman spends a great deal of time weighing the most American way to say hello. He thinks he probably shouldn’t come right out of the gate with howdy, y’all!

chapter twelve: a wench in the works This absolutely was not in their multitude of blueprints!

chapter thirteen: riding is magic and friendship is power and love is everything to everyone Roman gets to meet his pony. He should, by all rights, be much more excited about it, but someone had to go and ruin it for him.

chapter fourteen: in which virgil attempts to hold a poker face (and fails miserably) Virgil curses being so observant.

chapter fifteen: all of my change spent on you Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.

chapter sixteen: so your sons have swapped places and are in foreign countries This particular subject was not covered in the parenting books.

chapter seventeen: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.

chapter eighteen: small world and getting smaller Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.

chapter nineteen: you got me tripping, stumbling! sinking, fumbling! Patton makes a splash.

chapter twenty: the queen elizabeth the second the second The twins attempt to revive the past. The parents wish to change it.

chapter twenty-one: i said a boom chicka boom! Logan’s swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.

chapter twenty-two: i said a boom GO TO YOUR ROOM The twins’ plots bear oh-so-satisfying fruit.

chapter twenty-three: where dreams have no end A hello, a goodbye.

chapter twenty-four: the concorde(ance) A goodbye, a hello.

chapter twenty-five: epilogue Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.

#tssstorytimesubmission2023 #my fic #my fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #moceit #analogical #creativitwins #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #emile picani

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simpingcowboy · 1 year ago

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Pedro boys and why I'm swiping left on their tinders

This is all to be silly!! I love them all very much <3

Frankie Morales

His name there says Frankie (Catfish)....with his main profile picture being him holding you guessed it...a catfish. He doesn't have many other photos on there, with the exception of a few older military photos that are so blurry you can hardly tell which one he's meant to be.

The rest of his page is pretty empty aside from the music section, where you actually get the first real glimpse at what this man is about. While his music selection is very respectable, it does not overshadow the glaring issues with his profile.

In short, Frankie's profile makes you think "Am I dating the man? The fish? Or a catfish?" Swiping left fs.

Marcus Moreno

This one isn't his fault! His profile is perfect. No really. All the women at The Heroics made sure to help him with it! His photos are cute and show off all his best assets. The bio is a little cheesy in an endearing "yeah he's definitely a dad" way. The problem then? It's Marcus fucking Moreno!!! Leader of the Heroics!!!!!! On Tinder???? There's no way anyone is going to believe it's really him. I believe there's a verification option on Tinder now, but really...even then Idk. Unless he fully comes out on an interview or something to super casually mention he's on Tinder, it just ain't working. No one likes a catfish! (Sorry Frankie!)

Jack Daniels

Mr. "Tinder What?" himself!!!! Let's say he manages to figure out how to set up a profile and all that. It's gonna be inTERESTING to say the least. His photos are actually pretty solid. An intriguing mix of photos of him on the ranch and photos of him in the Statesmen HQ looking very well put together. Opening line is definitely "Save a Horse! Ride a Cowboy! 🤠♥️" Very on brand for him. Followed by something very pro-american about the flag or serving his country and honestly... that's where I'm gone 😅. We get to see a bit of Jack's political mind in Kingsman and let's just say i don't wanna know the rest of it.

I'm grateful this is Tinder and not Bumble. Because if Jack used the audio prompt and I heard that smooth Kentucky accent...forget EVERYTHING I just said. I would be taking a chance on him. Sorry 😔 I can't fix him, but I will have fun trying!!

Joel Miller

For namesake, we're gonna set this pre-outbreak. There's no time for swiping in the apocalypse. Profile isn't bad just very empty. He's not really trying and it's kinda obvious. His bio reads something along the lines of "Single dad of a spoiled teen" with mostly photos of himself and Sarah on his profile. A few photos of him and Tommy out camping or on a work site.

And as handsome as he is, the profile feels like something his kid forced him to make as a way of getting him off her back. I wanna sympathize and help her out, but I don't know I have the heart to attempt to win over this very clearly emotionally unavailable DILF. So for that reason, I'm swiping left.

Pero Tovar

If for some ungodly reason Pero was given Internet access and had a dating profile... it'd be a disaster. His bio reads something along the lines of "I don't open this app. If you wish to see me meet me at this pub" with approximate days and times he's there.

The first picture on his profile is a way too far away blurry shot of him training. If I was feeling brave enough to continue scrolling through his photos...the rest would certainly be borderline explicit highly suggestive photos of his torso and groin. And whilst I might think about it for approximately .25 seconds any remaining sense of dignity would kick in before I actually did anything about it. It'll sting momentarily, but I will be swiping left.

Ezra

Another man on this list who should absolutely NOT be given internet access. His photos are beautiful but uninformative...the only shots of him are blurred and artistically obscure. He pads the rest of his profile with photos of books he's reading and grainy shoots of the forest.

The bio...if there's a word limit best believe that Ezra has hit it. He used every given character at his disposal and managed to say very little with all of it. Something about a wandering spirit longing for companionship and a couple sexual innuendos for good measure.

While visually and verbally not the worst profile on this list, his pretension is so utterly palpable through the screen I actually don't think I'd be able to make it through the end of his bio without cringing...also his music selection is all just banjo instrumental???

#am writes #pedro pascal #pedro boys #ezra prospect #pero tovar #joel miller #jack Daniels #marcus moreno #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters

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peppershark · 10 months ago

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WOLFER --- The real California history behind the Tomione Fic

Convict Lake Camp (OwensValleyHistory.com)

When I was a kid, my family frequently visited Bishop, California. I can still feel the light-headed enchantment of hopping out of the van at a relative's green, creek-watered ranch shadowed by towering granite faces of the High Sierras. The dusty road and sage-sharp aroma propelled my imagination two hundred years into the past.

Wolfer is set in 1890 Bishop Creek, and while some of the location names are changed to fit the story, the town really had ranching barons like the Sacred 28 families, churches which exerted certain levels of social power with the well-to-do folk, boarding houses for mill workers and on-farm worker housing for fruit pickers and cowboys--or perhaps the odd wolfer.

It's amazing what you can dig up when you're procrastinating working on your WIP, lol. I did a lot of initial research while writing a Gingerrose fic set in post Civil War Bishop Creek.

Here are some things I found.

Main Street, Bishop Creek 1880 (OwensValleyHistory.com)

In Chapter 1, Tom rides down Main Street to the marshal's office (played by a grudging Severus Snape) and runs into Hermione.

Way off into the upper right you can see the steeple of the First Baptist Church on Main Street.

East Line Street, Bishop Creek (OwensValleyHistory.com)

Tom chases Hermione to Line Street, where he pushes her up against the Brown's Machine Shed, which is of course re-named to fit Lavender Brown's family.

(OwensValleyHistory.com)

Check out that snow! Sitting at 4,000 feet of elevation in the foothills of the East Sierras, the snow can get quite voluminous.

W.D. Roberts Ranch, Round Valley (OwensValleyHistory.com)

The ranch near the dry saltbeds of Owens Lake where Draco visits Harry, (by way of Mad Eye Moody) might have looked like this.

Cerro Gordo photo taken some time between 1871 - 1879 (OwensValleyHistory.com

We get a brief glimpse of the Cerro Gordo silver mine when Draco and Harry ride off into the sunset together for a night of wild debauchery. The brothels and bawdy houses within these sprawling mining towns would have perhaps been some of the only public places for late 19th-century gays to be themselves. Miss Lola's was among the more famous, and I'm struggling to find the website where I originally learned this this but I believe she hosted queer sex workers and provided space for an early LGBTQ+ scene.

The silver mine itself brought together a richly diverse group of fortune seekers. I accessed California census documents and found that while Bishop Creek was mostly white, Cerro Gordo had a much more diverse population (interestingly all marked with 'I', even Latinx names).

I did a phone interview with the Inyo Historical Society and chatted for an hour with a local historian, telling him I was getting context for a novel. (He didn't need to know that my novel was also a fanfic, hahaha.) The historian told me the mine had Mexican, Black, Chinese, and Indigenous populations working as miners, teamsters (people who drive wagons), cooks, brick masons, farm laborers and all kinds of interesting jobs related to running the mine.

Main Street in Bishop Creek, 1878 (OwensValleyHistory.com

One thing that sticks out in my mind from the conversation with the historian is how the white and Mexican ranchers demolished the irrigation canals the Numuu Indigenous tribes had dug to create a green landscape in Owens Valley. Native Americans have been 'farming' America's landscape for thousands of years in a low-impact way. In Chapter 4, Tom muses on this detail as he's setting a wolf trap on Rosier's ranch.

Perhaps the most illuminating account of the region comes from Sarah Winnemucca, daughter of Chief Truckee (after whom the town is named). Sarah travelled as an advocate for Indigenous rights and cataloged her experience and the story of white settler colonization in her book, Life Among the Pauites: Their Wrongs and Claims which you can read for free here.

Thank you for diving into California history with me!

Read Wolfer here.

#wolfer #tomione #historical fiction #historical fic #hermione x tom

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venactricisfics · 2 months ago

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Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Twenty-Six

I sat in my pantsuit, legs crossed, doing my best to look somewhat interested as Jamie stood at the front of the room, his hand on the Bible, being sworn in as Montana’s Attorney General. Dad sat beside me, his expression a perfect blend of boredom and barely concealed disdain. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his tie like it was a noose. If I was struggling to feign interest, he wasn’t even trying.

I leaned slightly toward him. “You look thrilled.”

His jaw twitched, and he barely moved his lips as he muttered, “I’d rather be branding cattle.” After our fight with the bikers, Dad decided he didn’t have time for camping anymore. Whatever moment of peace he’d been trying to carve out for himself was over. The real battle had come knocking, and he had no choice but to answer.

Market Equities—some big-ass fucking deal, according to Beth—had bought Dan Jenkins’ old golf course. But they weren’t looking to build another casino like the chief. No, they wanted something bigger. A whole goddamn city. High-rises, shopping centers, luxury developments. And right in the middle of it all? A massive airport, planted smack dab in the middle of our fields.

They weren’t just trying to buy up land. They were coming for our land.

This was why we needed Jamie in that office. Not because we trusted him, not because we wanted him there—but because he was our best shot at making sure the law worked in our favor. That they couldn’t just legislate us out of existence, steal our home right out from under us.

Whether Jamie saw it that way or not, it didn’t matter. He was in the fight now, whether he liked it or not.

I sat back as the former attorney general and the governor continued the formalities. Jamie’s voice was steady, polished—every bit the politician he always wanted to be. He was made for this.

And yet, as I watched him shake hands and smile for the camera, I couldn’t help but wonder—was he still one of us? Or had he finally sold his soul for a seat at the table?

“Congratulations, Jamie,” I told him, keeping my tone polite but distant as the last of the handshakes and photo ops wrapped up.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Thanks.”

Dad barely spared him a glance before turning to the governor. “He’s all yours now.” His voice was dry, void of any warmth or pride. Just a simple statement of fact.

Jamie’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he expected this, maybe he didn’t. Either way, he wasn’t getting any fatherly approval today.

I gave Jamie a soft smile—not much, but enough to acknowledge the moment—before following Dad out of the governor’s office. The heavy doors shut behind us, and with them, any illusion that Jamie still belonged to this family.

—-

The moment I arrived home, I wasted no time peeling off that stiff pantsuit, swapping it for my favorite pair of jeans and well-worn boots. Before I could think too much, I was already in the saddle, the familiar weight of my horse beneath me as we cut across the field.

Summer camp was over. The tents were coming down, the fires long burned out, and the quiet hum of everyday ranch life was settling back in. Still, I wanted to see it one last time—to get some sort of closure on the weeks I’d spent out here. Weeks where nothing mattered except the cattle in the pastures and the cowboy in my bed.

But now, with camp dismantling around me, I couldn’t help but wonder—where did we go from here?

Would Ryan stay with me in the main house, waking up beside me each morning like he had out in camp? Or would he just assume his place back in the bunkhouse, like nothing had changed? Like we hadn’t changed?

The thought unsettled me more than I cared to admit.

Tate wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled about leaving. Can’t blame the kid. Camp life had a way of making everything feel simpler. No walls, no rules—just the land and the work.

“Do we have to go?” he asked, dragging his feet.

“Yeah,” Monica sighed, ruffling his hair. “Your dad has to work in the city.”

“The city sucks ass,” Tate grumbled.

I pressed my lips together, trying to stifle my laughter as Monica shot him a look.

“Sucks what?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Where are you learning this stuff?”

I barely tilted my chin toward the cowboys taking down the last of the tents. She followed my gaze, instantly understanding.

Her scolding was cut short by Ryan’s loud snort of disgust.

“Jesus, look at the size of that fucking spider,” he muttered, stepping back.

My stomach turned. “Please tell me that was not in my fucking tent the whole time.”

“Shit,” Teeter chimed in, squinting at the monster of an arachnid. “You could saddle that sumbitch and ride his fucking ass back to the barn.”

Tate burst out laughing. Monica sighed. And I decided maybe it was a good thing camp was over.

“Alex, you feel like getting your hands dirty?” Rip asked me.

“Guess it depends on what you had in mind,” I pulled my ballcap down to shield my eyes from the sun.

“Gonna go run the fence line,” he said.

I glanced back at the tent, eyeing the massive spider that had claimed it as its own. Better him than me.

"Alright," I nodded, adjusting my ballcap. "I'll go check fence lines with you. Long as that guy stays put."

Rip smirked, shaking his head. "He ain't on the payroll yet."

Jake and Ethan secured the last of the gear onto the pack mules while Lloyd and Teeter finished saddling a couple of gentle horses for Monica and Tate. The camp was nearly packed up, just a few more things left to haul out.

Ryan walked up beside me, resting a hand on my lower back. "You sure you wanna work? Could just ride back with me."

I smirked up at him. "That sounds a hell of a lot like an invitation to be lazy."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with a lazy day, baby."

"Maybe later." I gave his cheek a quick pat before heading toward Rip. "Let’s get to it before I change my mind."

Rip chuckled, "Come on then, cowgirl. Let’s see if you still remember how to fix a damn fence. Colby, Ryan you’re with me too.”

I couldn’t think of anything better as I climbed on the back of my horse and trotted after him.

The sun hung high overhead as we rode out toward the fence line, the scent of dry grass and saddle leather thick in the air. The land stretched out before us, untouched and wide, the kind of space that made you feel both free and small all at once.

Ryan rode up beside me, his hand brushing against mine on the reins. "You ever think about just riding off and not coming back?"

I smirked, glancing over at him. "Depends. You coming with me?"

"Guess that depends on where you're headed," he replied, his easy grin tugging at my resolve.

"Anywhere that doesn't have a busted fence and trespassers tearing up my land."

Rip shot a look over his shoulder. "Y’all plan on actually workin’ or just flirtin’ all day?"

Ryan just smirked, tipping his hat back. "Can’t help it, boss. She’s distracting."

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.

Colby rode ahead, scanning the fence line. "Over here," he called, pointing at a section where the wire was sagging, a few posts leaning at an awkward angle.

Rip sighed. "Alright, let’s get to work. Colby, you tighten that wire. Ryan, help me brace that post. Alex, you grab the staples and hammer. We’re fixin’ this right."

I swung down off my horse, already reaching for the tools. "Yeah, yeah, I remember how to do this, Rip."

"Good," he said, smirking. "Then don’t fuck it up."

Sagging fence repaired we climbed back on our horses to travel further down the line.

“What in the fuck?” Ryan exclaimed.

“Nothing good ever comes after you say that, cowboy,” I followed his line of site. A heard of buffalo were roaming in the field on the other side of the fence.

“You think they wandered over from the park?” Colby asked.

“There’s too many fences between here and there,” I told him.

“Who are these son of a bitches?” Rip cocked his head in the direction of an older cowboy and a younger cowboy sitting on their horses. “Come on let’s go.”

“Hey!” Rip shouted over to them and they trotted their horsed closer. “Sporting club running buffalo now?”

“Sporting club ain’t runnin’ shit no more,” the older cowboy said.

“Well, then whose are those?” Rip asked. I squinted my eyes looking out at them. Something familiar about him, I just couldn’t place it.

“Don’t matter 'cause they’re not yours,” the older cowboy said.

“You got permission to run them here?” Rip asked.

“No, I just decided to run some buffalo across a field for no fuckin’ reason,” he responded his weight shifting in his seat.

When the younger man looked my direction, I knew who he was.

I was fifteen when I met him in another life.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on the saddle horn.

Clint Fucking Morrow. A name I hadn’t thought about in years, yet the moment his eyes met mine, it all came rushing back. The county fair, the stolen kisses behind the barns, the way he’d sweet-talked me into thinking I was his girl—until I wasn’t. Until I found out I was just another name on a long list of girls who thought the same damn thing.

I swallowed hard, forcing the memory back down where it belonged. Where it had stayed buried for years.

Clint had been my first mistake—the kind you don’t realize is a mistake until it’s too late. I’d been young, stupid, and flattered by his attention, especially after Beth sent him packing. It hadn’t taken long to realize he didn’t want me, just the idea of me. Someone easier to impress, someone who didn’t see through his bullshit.

And then there was the loft.

I shuddered. It wasn’t something I liked to think about, let alone talk about. It sure as hell wasn’t some sweet, stolen moment I'd wanted to remember. It was rough, rushed, and more about him getting what he wanted than about me at all. I’d walked away feeling used, ashamed, and sore in a way that had nothing to do with my body.

And now here he was, acting like we were old flames instead of a regret I’d spent years trying to forget. I never wanted to see him again. Guess never came sooner than I expected.

“I don’t want my cattle getting brucellosis from those fuckers either,” Rip said, eyes narrowing at Clint.

“Keep your cattle on your side of the fence,” Clint snapped back, voice dripping with contempt.

Rip’s gaze shifted to Wade, a warning flashing in his eyes. “You oughta tell your boy to watch the bass in his voice when he speaks to me.”

“Boy?” Clint’s face darkened, and without a moment’s hesitation, he swung off his horse, jumping over the fence with a snarl. Rip followed suit, meeting him head-on, his fist landing square in Clint’s face with a sickening crack that sent Clint reeling back to the other side of the fence.

Before anyone could catch their breath, Wade pulled a gun—of course, he did. Cowards never fight fair. “I’ll blow your fucking brains all over this field,” Wade spat, his hand shaking with barely contained rage.

“Then fucking do it,” Rip’s voice was cold, unflinching.

Ryan stepped forward, gun drawn, badge visible. “Reserve agent, Livestock Association.” His voice rang out, calm and lethal. “I’ll shoot you where you stand if you don’t put that fucking pistol down.”

Wade chuckled darkly. “Reserve agent? Duttons still running that scam?”

Rip’s eyes never left him. “We don’t know you.”

Wade smirked. “You wouldn’t. But your boss does. And his pretty little daughter over there.” The way his gaze slid toward me made my skin crawl, but I held my ground. “Tell him Wade Morrow says ‘hello.’”

My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “My dad wants what you took from him, you asshole.”

Wade gave me a smirk that didn’t touch his eyes. “We’ll see each other again, real soon.”

“You better hope I never see you again,” Rip growled, taking a step closer to him, his fists clenched at his sides.

Wade turned his back, voice dripping with venom. “Next time, fight me fair.”

Rip’s voice was low, dangerous. “Shit, I’ll fight you fair. Get down off your fucking horse.”

“Save that for a rainy day,” Wade shot back, turning his horse around.

Ryan kept his gun trained on Wade as he walked toward him, voice unwavering. “I need proof those buffalo are brucellosis-free.”

“If you’re man enough, come and get it,” Wade sneered, flicking the reins of his horse. “Come on.”

Clint, now a few paces behind his father, looked me up and down, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Still look good on horseback, Alex.”

I couldn’t hold back the anger any longer. “Fuck you, Clint.” I shot back, my voice sharp.

Wade and Clint spurred their horses, riding off with one last glance at us, leaving the field behind them in unsettling silence.

Colby broke the tension. “Why would they leave buffalo here?” he asked, staring out at the herd, his eyes darting to the fence. “They’re gonna tear this place apart.”

“I think that’s the idea,” I muttered, my stomach twisting.

Ryan was still watching me, his gaze sharp but cautious. “Alex,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “What the hell happened with him?”

I shook my head, brushing the thought aside. "Nothing worth talking about."

Rip let out a frustrated grunt. "Well, that 'nothing' just rolled up with a damn buffalo herd. So if there’s somethin’ we need to know, now’s the time."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling just slightly. "Clint’s just a cocky little shit who thinks he’s bigger than he is. He used to hang around the ranch when we were kids, thinking he was something special." I glanced at Rip, my voice quieter as I added, “Wade used to work at the ranch.”

Rip’s expression darkened. “That fucker went to prison, didn’t he?”

I nodded, feeling a flicker of heat rise in my chest. “For takin’ what no hand should take, especially when they,” I patted my chest, making sure Rip understood exactly what I meant, “are supposed to be all in. And Clint’s just as slimy as he was back then.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Did he hurt you?”

The question hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked me that, but this was different. I met his eyes, the concern there so raw and genuine it made my chest tighten. He wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he already knew something was off.

I exhaled through my nose, trying to keep my voice steady. "Not in the way you mean."

Ryan’s fingers tightened around the reins, his gaze not leaving me. I could tell that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but he held his ground. For now.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy. Neither of us said anything else, but it felt like the words we weren’t speaking hung in the air.

—--

I walked into the bunkhouse, the familiar scent of sweat and leather mixing with the heavy scent of dust. The noise of the day—the confrontation with Wade and Clint, the damn buffalo, the weight of it all—felt like it was closing in on me. I just needed a moment to let it all go.

But the second I stepped through the door, the music hit me like a wave. The sound of a country song—something with a good beat—poured out of the bunkhouse, filling the space. My body relaxed a little as the chaotic day faded into the background.

And then I saw him.

Jimmy was back.

I stopped, momentarily stunned, before a wide grin spread across my face. "Laramie? What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise and excitement.

She leaned back against the counter, her signature playful grin lighting up her face. "When Mia told me her new boyfriend worked at the Yellowstone," she said, “I knew I had to come.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing. I walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "It’s been too damn long," I said, squeezing her tightly.

“I know,” Laramie replied, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “It’s been almost two years since you left the rodeo circuit.”

“Has it really been that long?” It dawned on me all that had happened since I came home to take a break from the rodeo and be with my family. The last couple of years had flown by in a blur, and I hadn’t even realized how much had changed until now.

“It has been too fucking long, girl,” I exclaimed, my hands on her shoulders as I pulled back to look at her. The sight of my old friend, standing there in front of me, felt like a piece of the past I didn’t realize I’d missed.

“We keep running into your old friends everywhere today,” Colby chuckled from the corner, clearly amused at the unexpected reunion.

“We helped ourselves to your beer,” the dark-haired woman—who I guessed was Mia, Jimmy’s new girlfriend—said with a mischievous grin. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d need to figure out that story later, but for now, I could appreciate her boldness. “We can see that,” Colby said, rolling his eyes. “They come with you, Jimmy?”

“Yeah, this was not my idea,” Jimmy said, his voice tinged with resignation.

“Fuck it,” Teeter suddenly announced, throwing her hands in the air before starting to dance. “It’s Friday night somewhere.”

“No, today is Friday,” Colby muttered. “It’s Friday right now.”

“Then Friday’s your lucky fucking day,” Teeter shot back, shimmying her hips in Colby’s direction with a grin that practically begged for a reaction.

I couldn’t help but smirk at the back-and-forth between the two of them. “She’s growing on you, isn’t she?” I cocked a brow at Colby, unable to resist teasing him.

“She’s not growing on me,” Colby shot back, but I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice. “Okay, fine. She’s got a couple of moves and stuff. It’s kinda like she’s a dancer. She studied.”

“Where in the fuck did she study dancing?” Ryan exclaimed, his eyes wide. “The fucking sheepers’ cabin?”

Laramie swayed over to Lloyd, her presence always commanding attention. I smirked again, watching as she charmed him like she always did. Same girl, new place.

“Fucking barrel racers,” Jake muttered under his breath, clearly trying to suppress his laughter.

“You’re getting the joke now, aren’t you, Jimmy?” Ryan chuckled, shooting a glance toward Jimmy as he watched Laramie work her magic.

“So which one is yours?” Laramie asked with a coy smile, her eyes scanning the room, landing on each cowboy like they were potential contenders.

“That one,” I motioned toward Ryan, a proud grin on my face.

Laramie’s eyes immediately followed my gesture, and she took her time scanning his body, her smile widening as she took in the view. “I can see why you waited around for that one,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

I shot her a playful glare, but there was no mistaking the pride I felt in the way she looked at him. He was mine, and damn proud of it.

Ryan pulled me into his lap, a grin tugging at his lips. "Your friend is interesting."

"You have no idea," I smiled back, teasing him a little as I settled in.

Laramie, ever the hostess, lined up some shots on the table and passed them around. The energy in the room was buzzing, everyone finding their groove as the night wore on.

"I don’t understand," Ryan shouted over the noise, his voice tinged with confusion as he watched Jimmy getting cozy with Mia.

"Honestly, man, neither do I," Jimmy replied, not even looking up from where he was sharing a kiss with Mia.

Ryan let out a low whistle. "That is shocking to me," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

I couldn’t help but laugh at Ryan’s surprise. “What’s wrong, cowboy? It’s like you've never seen two people dumb and in love.”

“We’re not like that are we?” he asked.

“Yes, you are fucking worse,” Colby called over.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at Colby’s comment, but before he could respond, I turned toward him and pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing him for a moment. The kiss was quick, but enough to remind him of where we were—together, in this mess of a world we’d carved out.

Colby whistled, “God, you two are like a walking Hallmark movie.”

Ryan pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Colby. "You know, I’m starting to think Colby’s the real romantic here."

"Don’t flatter yourself," Colby shot back with a grin, taking a swig of his drink. "I’m just here for the entertainment."

I watched as Teeter danced at him. Not with him but at him. And he was watching her intently, “Looks like you are enjoying a front-row seat.”

Colby groaned but still kept his eyes glued on the sway of Teeter’s hips.

I raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold. "Seems like Colby’s getting the best show of the night," I teased, leaning in toward Ryan.

Ryan smirked, his gaze flicking between me and Colby. "I think Colby’s got a thing for Teeter’s... 'style.'"

Colby groaned again, clearly trying to stay focused on whatever conversation he was having with Jimmy, but his eyes kept drifting back to Teeter's wild, unrestrained dance moves. "She’s gonna break something," he muttered, though there was a definite hint of admiration in his voice.

"Can’t deny it, can you?" I chuckled, leaning back against Ryan. "You’re more interested in Teeter’s moves than you care to admit."

Colby shot me a side glance but said nothing, instead opting to take another swig of his drink, pretending like he wasn’t entirely absorbed in the situation. But the way his eyes followed Teeter's every step made it obvious—he was hooked.

Teeter, for her part, was oblivious to Colby’s growing fascination, completely lost in the music as she spun and swayed. But every time her gaze met his, there was a playful glint in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“You know,” I whispered to Ryan, “I think Colby’s about to fall hard.”

Ryan snorted, watching Colby shift uncomfortably in his seat. “He might need a crash course in how to handle Teeter before it gets messy.”

I just shook my head, amused by how easily Colby was falling for her chaotic energy. "It’s gonna be fun watching him try."

#yellowstone fanfiction #ryan yellowstone #ryan x oc yellowstone #yellowstone #yellowstone tv #yellowstone smut

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 year ago

Note

*timidly walks up to the cash register*

Can I… can I plz ask for your fluffiest AGSZ or SZ snippet/headcanon plz? I’ve been lanced in the heart by your wonderfully evil community and it’s what the doctor ordered :,3 ❤️

Innocent Moments No One Sees

• Zack laughing so hard at the way Sephiroth pronounces schedule that milk comes out of his nose. Sephiroth then laughing so hard at the milk coming out of Zack's nose that he is immobile on the ground for several minutes.

• Sephiroth falling asleep in the library, Genesis and Angeal counting how many books they can stack on top of him before he wakes up.

• Zack folding paper daisies that Aerith taught him and placing them in Sephiroth's hair one by one during a meeting.

• Angeal and Sephiroth walking back to the tower after getting milkshakes. They got different flavors, but switch drinks every ten minutes. They're talking about what they would name their hypothetical pet chocobo.

• Genesis giving Zack another ear piercing. Zack is sitting on Genesis' bathroom sink with his feet up, wearing a battered Loveless hoodie he fully plans on stealing from him. They're both talking about the first time they got their ears pierced as Genesis works.

• Angeal and Zack going on a run and jokingly racing each other. Angeal can't catch up to Zack, who has infinite energy. Then Zack trips and faceplants on the ground, getting a bloody nose. Angeal then gives him a piggyback ride back to the tower. They're clowning around on their way there, with Zack pretending that he's a cowboy and Angeal is his horse.

• Zack dragging Sephiroth up to the roof on a rainy day, giving him a fun yellow raincoat and ordering that he jump in all the puddles to heal his inner child. Little did they know that Genesis and Angeal had been hiding behind some ventilation units and would come out with two giant super-soakers.

• Sephiroth and Genesis walking around the Skyview hall at three AM. Neither of them can sleep and are still in pajamas. They're sharing earbuds and laughing at all the cringey music Genesis has on his old MP3.

• Genesis and Angeal sprawled out on Angeal's kitchen floor in the middle of the afternoon looking at an old photo album from their childhood. They're eaten their way through half a box of ice cream sandwiches already.

• The four of them having a sleepover at Sephiroth's apartment. They've already ordered pizza, Genesis has made them all drinks, and they're now playing a boardgame with a movie that they've long abandoned playing in the background.

• The four of them going on a shopping trip to the mall. Zack is trailing behind Genesis at some high-end boutique. He's eating mango ice cream and critiquing every one of Genesis' outfit choices. Meanwhile, Angeal and Sephiroth are laughing their asses off. They found a gothic clown painting at an art store and are now lugging it back to the car. They plan on hanging it in Lazard's office as a prank.

• Sephiroth putting clear tape on his office door at Zack's exact eye level, then texting him "I have cookies in my office if you want some." He then watches as Zack runs into the tape at full speed.

• All of them going on a mission together, something that usually doesn't happen, but even Lazard could agree that they needed a break. The four of them are laying on the grass outside the camp with their heads touching. They're watching the stars and sharing jokes. Nothing bad has happened yet.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #ff7r #ff7 crisis core #headcanons

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equallyshaw · 1 year ago

Text

star crossed lovers au | connor bedard ↳ vancouver with connor. insta blurb. ↳ au masterlist.

↳ takes place the third time they get together, after second break up. Post is done post Europe in instagram post.

@kaileyclara: two things are true, im a nature girlie and i want a german shepherd.

119k likes, 29.9k comments. location: vancouver, bc. _

@connorbedard98: we are not getting a shepherd ↪ @kaileyclara: RUDE ↪ @/lhughes_06: we don't need mr crosby to be eaten ↪ @kaileyclara: my dog would never

@/_quinnhughes: it only took you how many years? ↪ @kaileyclara: stfu im not coming to visit u anymore ↪ @/_quinnhughes: you wouldn't ↪ @kaileyclara: yknow how petty i am right ↪ @/_quinnhughes: nevermind

@madisenbedard: had the BEST time with you 🤍 ↪ @kaileyclara: me tooooooo🫶🥺

@Melanie.bedard: so good seeing you hun, see you soon ! ↪ @kaileyclara: had an amazing time, see you guys soon (:

@/jackhughes: horsey ↪ @kaileyclara: HORSEYYYYY

@/elblue6: looks beautiful ↪ @kaileyclara: it was 🙈

@kent.johnson: it was fun pushing you after the first photo ↪ @kaileyclara: fuck off kent ↪ @/adamfantilli: so glad i got that on video ↪ @kaileyclara: i hate you both

@/trevorzegras: save a horse... ↪ @/jackhughes: dont ride a cowboy ↪ @kaileyclara: stfu both of you

@/brockboeser: entering your nature era ✨ ↪ @kaileyclara: hehe

@nicohischier: swiss alps next?? ↪ @kaileyclara: next year!!! need to get jacky to swiss pronto _

@connorbedard98: up west with the best.

156k likes, 78.9k comments. location: vancouver, bc. _

@/adamfantilli: aweeee I took that 1st one Connor. ↪ @/kentjohnson: and I took the last 1 ↪ @connorbedard98: you guys are so unbearable ↪ @kaileyclara: what I've been saying !!!!

@kaileyclara: best sunrises and sunsets 🫶🏻 ↪ @connorbedard98: the very best

@madisenbedard: man, I thought id make the dump but i guess not ↪ @kaileyclara: to the finsta !!! ↪ @fanone: wait connor has a finsta?? ↪ @fantwo: nah i think its kaileys, thou nobody knows what it is ↪ @fanthree: yeah nobody has been able to find it

@melanie.bedard: the second one is gorgeous! @kaileyclara ↪ @kaileyclara: it is🫶🥺

@lukasreichel: fomo 🥺 ↪ @Phillip.kurashev: big fomo ↪ @kevinkorchinski: no I know ↪ @lukasrecihel: youre the only one out of us thats from canada, shush ↪ @phillip.kurashev: YEAH KEV ↪ @kaileyclara: its okay guys, we'll take a beach trip to michigan without con when i get back ↪ @lukasreichel: heck yes ↪ @phillip.kurashev: training camp come soon enough ↪ @kevinkorchinski: youre gonna regret saying that when it does come around bud...

#connor bedard #connor bedard au #connor bedard x k hughes #star crossed lovers au #connor bedard blurb #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #phillip kurashev #kevin korchinski #lukas reichel #chicago blackhawks #vancouver canucks #brock boeser #nico hischier #new jersey devils

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thiswasinevitableid · 8 months ago

Text

Lost and Found (GoodCollins)

The winner of one Yeehawgust Poll was: Rode Hard. Unsurprisingly, this fill is NSFW

There’s never been a more beautiful day, a more beautiful place, than this valley in Saskatchewan in August of 1977. Goodsir cannot believe his luck at being included on this expedition.

“Fitzjames! I swear, if you add one more bag to that horse-”

“There are two! You can wear the same pair of jeans for three months, some of us prefer to not smell like a horse pen!”

“Gentlemen, please!” Sir John, the leader of this expedition tries to calm the argument that’s been brewing at base-camp all morning between the former head of Terra Tracking and the current second-in-command of Erebus Expeditions.

Goodsir’s understanding is that the two companies recently merged, though it’s backers of Erebus who are funding this venture. He does hope that Crozier and Fitzjames will come to an understanding soon.

After all, their bickering might scare off the Sasquatch.

As the captains of the expedition separate, Crozier to confer with the trio of “lieutenants” he’s leaving to man basecamp, Fitzjames passes Goodsir and whisks away his frown, replacing it with a charming smile.

“Doctor! I’m glad you arrived.”

“So am I.” Goodsir extends a hand to shake, “I’ve packed all my equipment as instructed, is there somewhere I’m to put it?”

“Go find Mr. Collins. He’ll be with the horses and can help you get everything onto your mount so we can set off as planned.”

Goodsir thanks him and heads in the direction he points. All around him, men pack camping equipment and tracking devices into packs, check paper lists and double-check their count of food. He knows this expedition is the best funded to ever be undertaken, but seeing what all the money has gone to is staggering.

He finds the horses, along with the two guides–Blanky and Hartnell–and a man standing with his back to him as he checks over a saddle.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Mr. Collins?”

“That’d be me.” The third man turns and Goodsir is treated to a sight of masculinity at its finest. Broad-chested, with strong arms revealed by shoved up sleeves. Curly dark hair and sideburns starting to show grey. He rather reminds Goodsir of a cowboy in the old movies that’d make their way over the atlantic, and the effect is complete when he dusts off a stetson and sets it on his head.

Were he not coursing with excitement at the expedition, Goodsir might be anxious at the intensity with which his heart flips at Collin’s slight smile.

“You’re Dr. Goodsir, right? Mr. Crozier told me to keep an eye out for you.”

His delight at Collins knowing him dims, “This is about the horses, I imagine?”

“Yessir, said you’d need a little instruction before we left.”

“I suppose I do.” Goodsir sets his bag down with the others, trying not to feel dejected that his practice ride at Crozier’s ranch had gone poorly enough that he felt the need to foist him onto someone for last minute lessons.

“No shame in it.” Collins gestures for him to follow, “not everyone grows up around horses, and they can be real intimidating if you’ve never rode.”

Goodsir waits as Collins brings a large, sand-colored beast forward, “This is Starfish, Star for short. One of the calmest we’ve got.” He smiles reassuringly, “okay doc, lets see you get on her.”

He manages to not make too great a fool of himself getting into the saddle, and stays upright as Collins leads the mare in circles, correcting his form in a soft, friendly voice. If he talks to everything that way, Goodsir is surprised men and animals alike aren’t following him about.

Once Collins is satisfied that Goodsir will be able to keep his horse on the trail, offers a hand to help him dismount. Goodsir takes it, feeling a tad like a Victorian maiden.

“I better go finish loading bags. See you on the trail, doc.”

Goodsir thanks him for his help and returns to the center of base camp, joining Crozier and Franklin when they wave him over to ask his opinion on a photo that may be of the creature’s foot. When Fitzjames joins them, Crozier noticeably stiffens but continues talking.

“Irving got a look through his binoculars and wanted me to report that the other party is already moving.”

Crozier huffs, but Franklin waves a hand dismissively, “I’m not worried about some little rag-tag group. We have the most sophisticated tracking equipment money can buy.”

“And they have one of the best trackers I’ve ever seen.” Crozier counters, “not to mention they’re a smaller group. They’ll be able to move faster.”

“Which would matter more if they weren’t on the wrong side of the valley.” Fitzjames adds.

Crozier mutters something along the lines of “that’s not what Silna says” and Goodsir decides to leave for more pleasant surroundings.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even after three days on the trail, Henry finds it a struggle to pull himself onto the horse in the mornings.

He promised Crozier, promised Fitzjames, promised fucking everyone that he was fine, really, that he was eager to take on being the horsemaster for this expedition. He thought he would be. He should be.

As they break camp on the fourth morning, he wills himself to how he used to be. To be cheerful and friendly, even excited, like-

“Good morning, Henry!” Dr. Goodsir guides Star up alongside him.

“Morning, Doc.” Henry feels his smile turn genuine. If you ask him, Goodsir is a marvel; no complaints about the hours of riding and the sore legs, in spite of how he must be feeling them all up and down his body. Instead, he spends their evenings showing Fitzjames plant specimens they both find fascinating, or listening to one of Blanky’s stories about his days as younger guide among the mountain men. During the day, he often rides alongside Silna–their route takes them into tribal land, and their permission to enter depends on the guide’s presence–or, if Henry is lucky, the doctor will bring his horse behind or alongside him to talk.

Henry had initially worried for him. Most of the men on this expedition know each other, and there’s been eager ribbing of the soft-spoken doctor, his desire to be liked and included by seasoned adventurers more evident than a signal fire. But then Henry had overheard him reply to a snide comment from Dr. Stanley, their medic, with a breezy retort, and worried about him considerably less.

After all, his last conversation with Stanley left him gun shy of the man, who told him in no uncertain terms that everyone felt as he did, and there was nothing for it but to get a hold of himself and go out for a drink or two, or he would recommend the expedition heads hire someone else.

Although they’re not that many days removed from civilization, he can’t face the idea of riding back alone. He feels alone enough as it is.

He’s eating a bologna sandwich, their dinner for the evening, on an overlook by where they’ve made camp, staring at the view without seeing it, when Goodsir sits down beside him.

“Is it alright if I join you?”

He nods, scoots sideways so the doctor isn’t stuck on the sharper rocks. A kestrel calls in the distance and Goodsir produces one of the many pocket guides shoved into his pack and onto his person to check the call, only to look up delightedly when Henry just tells him.

“I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that someone who spends so much time out here can easily identify creatures that do the same.”

“Suppose so. You just kind of pick it up.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Henry.” Goodsir pockets the reading glasses he’d pulled from his coat, “to hear Francis tell it, there are men who’ve been out here longer than you who can’t tell a birdcall-”

“From a bear shitting. One of his favorite ways of saying he thinks this whole trip is a mistake.”

“And do you?”

Henry isn’t sure how to answer that, and Goodsir seems to take his hesitation as annoyance.

“I don’t mean to pry” he adds quickly, “only some of the others said you…you actually saw it.”

“I, I think so.” He mumbles, “on the way back from scouting a new trail. Mr. Franklin wanted us to see if there was a way to get cars further up the mountain. Saw it through the trees in the dark. Haven’t really looked at the woods the same since.”

Goodsir clearly wants to ask him more, but doesn’t, nodding and looking back out over the valley with a small smile.

The horrible, gaping trap door beneath his heart widens at the thought that the doctor might think he doesn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Have you seen it? I, Mr. Fitzjames said you were an expert.”

A light laugh, “In anthropology. I’m interested in the creature in terms of what it means for the field, as well as a personal fascination with how much of the world we still have yet to discover. I was initially in school to be a surgeon, but the pull of other aspects of nature was too great.”

“So if Blanky loses another toe, someone might be able to sew it back on?” He jokes, like it’s the most natural thing to do instead of something he has, until this second, been forcing.

“In an emergency I suppose.” Goodsir sips his enamel mug of water, “but let's keep him away from hatchets all the same.”

Henry smiles and the conversation turns toward the doctor’s change in schooling. By the time he’s telling Henry all about a life changing autopsy on a monkey, Henry is on his back, soaking up the last of the suns heat from the stones and enjoying, for the first time in months, the sight of the stars coming out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks into their journey, they reach the crossing at the Porcupine River. Henry’s been dreading this, so much that he couldn’t sleep at all last night, or enjoy the way Goodsir looked climbing out his tent this morning, bright-eyed in the sweater Henry leant him (his own had been carried off by some bold raccoons who got into two of the tents).

He hangs back as the first group crosses; the horses wade in, then swim as they reach the deeper portion. It’s late enough in the summer that there’s no snow melt to speed the current, but his chest tightens as more and more of his friends urge their horses across. Goodsir goes in the middle, between Silna and Gore, for which Henry is grateful; both are strong riders on steady mounts. Even if Goodsir–or Star–panics, there won’t be total chaos that prevents someone from hauling the doctor from the river.

It’s only when Fitzjames whistles to him that he realizes he’s now the only man remaining on that side of the river.

He can do this. He has to.

Fagin trots forward, Henry guiding him to the safest crossing point. The water is up to his ankles. Another foot and it drops, and now he’s up to his knees, the rush of water blotting out all other sounds.

Deeper now, Fagin has to swim and he does, unbothered, the current slow, so why can’t Henry breathe? Why do his fingers feel like they won’t hold the reins, his mind like it’s outside him, above him?

A boulder catches Fagin’s belly and the horse snorts, jolting in surprise and god help him he can hear the screaming again, the yell for help swallowed up by the water and he can’t be here anymore, he can’t hold on, he’s going to be swept away.

He grabs at Fagin blindly and the horse, skittish from the bruise on it’s stomach, lurches, and his balance goes, sending him sideways into the water.

Henry flails to right himself, rocks scraping at him through his jeans, drawing blood from his arms, and gasps for air. Everything he knows to do abandons him until only fear is left, and he scrabbles and kicks until, through sheer survival instinct, he makes it to a sandy, shallow patch and pulls himself onto shore.

People are yelling. He’s too outside himself to hear what. He can see that Crozier has rope in hand, must have been about to throw it to him. Goodsir makes it too him first, alarm clear the instant Henry sees his face, only to be waved out of the way by Doctor Stanley.

“I’m okay.” Henry chokes out, searching the faces around him for some reassurance, “I’m okay.”

A hand on his lower back as he coughs and shivers. Goodsir. His tether to the world outside that fucking, goddamned river.

“Yes, Henry. You’re alright.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone says they’re glad he’s in one piece, and Henry believes them. All the same, he’s relieved when night falls and he’s left alone to keep watch. The last three days, they’ve been hearing strange, heavy steps in the woods, always just beyond the reach of any of the tracking equipment, and long, wailing calls no one recognizes.

Tonight, he’s alone save for the crackle of the dying fire and a very persistent owl.

Or, he thinks he’s alone. Then there’s a soft, “may I sit?”

“You don’t have to ask every time, doc.” He looks up into Goodsir’s face, “I like your company.”

“And you don’t have to call me ‘doctor.’” The smile is chiding, gentle, “I wish you’d call me Harry.”

“Right then. Harry.” He turns his attention back to the fire, turns up the lantern a hair so he can see further beyond the tents.

Harry holds his hands near the remaining flames; it’s cold enough at night that he wears his fingerless gloves to sleep, and Henry can’t say what about the dark fabric makes him want to catch a palm and kiss each finger in turn.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry glances at him.

“I have. In a way. What I mean is, I tried talking to a few people, including Dr. Stanley. I try and I try and it never…no one really hears.”

“You haven’t tried me.” The doctor is facing him as best as their positions on the log allow. Henry takes a deep breath, tries not to wonder if the urge to speak means Harry really is the man who can help him, or just another sign he’s weak where Harry Goodsir is concerned.

“Early in the summer, once we knew the Barrows were willing to put up money for this, Mr. Franklin sent me and another guide, Billy, to see if there was a way to cross the Porcupine lower down, closer to town. Shorten the route some, keep us on schedule, that sort of thing. It’d been a late spring, we knew that, but the snowmelt made the river higher than we thought. We thought we had a crossing point and…and we didn’t. The current was faster than it looked, Billy’s horse got pushed into a boulder and panicked, threw him and he…he…he was just gone. I tried to help him, but he was gone. One minute he was yelling, I was trying to get to him, and then I couldn’t hear him and, and I, I-”

The tears are welling up again. He’s such an easy crier these days.

“I still see it. At night. At riverbanks. I feel like I’m there again. Like my mind doesn’t know past from present and all I’m left with is a swirling great blackness in my chest.” He presses a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob, to stop any more nonsense from spilling out.

“I’m so sorry, Henry.” Harry puts an arm around his shoulder and maybe he pulls, maybe he doesn’t, all Henry knows is that he presses against him in a hug, hides his face in his shoulder, and Harry doesn’t recoil, doesn’t push him away with a gruff “well then” or a “get a hold of yourself.”

“I just want it to stop.” Henry whispers.

“I’ve never heard a more reasonable wish.” Harry murmurs, resting his hand on the base of Henry’s neck, petting him like he’s a scared dog in a thunderstorm, “I’m sure we can figure something out. Shell shock isn’t, it’s not new, Henry, our understanding of it is getting better.” He pulls back enough to look him in the face, even as Henry tries to avoid his gaze, too afraid that if he sees affection and understanding there, he’ll insist on sleeping at Harry’s feet for the rest of his life.

“But when?” He pleads.

“I wish I could say. When we get back, I’ll reach out to some friends at the university who study this sort of thing.” Harry presses his fingers through Henry’s forelocks, “until then, when these moods strike…please come find me. We can talk, we can even touch like we are now if that helps. But you do not need to carry this alone.”

Henry should let go, should nod curtly and say thank you and let Henry go back to bed with a promise to seek him out that he will never follow through on. Instead, he nods pathetically, and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder for as long as he will let him.

(He falls asleep like that. Luckily, Harry has the watch after him anyway).

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’re deep into the backcountry. Meaning that when things go wrong, the chances are high they’ll go wrong in the most extreme way.

This maxim proved true this evening. Just as they were selecting a location to set camp for the night, the unexplained calls burst from the trees all around them, along with a flurry of thrown rocks, sending men, mules, and horses into chaos. Star’s calm demeanor does not extend to attacks from unseen entities, and so she went haring off with Harry still in the saddle.

He rode harder and faster than he thought possible, surrendering to her whims after his first attempts to soothe and steer her proved futile.

So here he stands, finally having dismounted his now-exhausted mare, with no earthly idea where he is.

After a small period of time where he sat on the ground to collect his thoughts and quell his panic, Harry decides to try for a higher vantage point to see if he can locate any kind of landmark.

Footfalls in the tree-line make him jump, and for a moment he braces to see the very creature they’ve trekked over a month to find. The figure that emerges into the dusk is, in this moment, an even better sight.

“Harry!” Henry lumbers down the hill and embraces him, “thank god, you’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

“A bit bruised from the ride, but that’s the worst of it.” He hugs the larger man back, not interested in letting go, “you?”

“Took a tree branch to the face at one point.” The ghosts of a wild, frightened look linger at the corners of his eyes, “I haven’t found anyone else. Or even heard them. We have an agreed upon meeting spot if anyone got separated, but I, I need to get my bearings, and it’s so dark already I’m not sure I can get us to it safely.”

“We can’t be the only ones coming to that conclusion.” Calming Henry is calming himself in turn, “how about we settle in for the night, and start for the meeting point bright and early in the morning.”

Someone else making the decision seems to relax Henry, who nods and suggests they make camp in a flat patch of grass at the base of the hillside. As he brings Fagin down, Harry realizes a flaw in his plan.

“I’m afraid I’ll be sleeping under the stars; my tent is with Gore, we moved items around so I could carry one half of the radar device.” He manages an awkward smile at the clouds gathering in the sky, “I hope there’s no rain.”

“Uh.” Henry looks up, “it looks like it might. You could share mine. It’ll be a tight fit, but I’d feel better if you weren’t out in the open with that beast running around. If that’s alright by you?”

A raindrop hits Harry's forehead.

“That, my dear Mr. Collins, is an excellent plan.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tent is indeed snug with the two of them, and after a plethora of “it it’s alright”s and “it’ll be more comfortable”s, they agreed to zip their sleeping bags together and that if they ended up atop each other or otherwise entangled by the morning, neither of them would be mad upset.

A crack awakens Harry, and he lays there, listening to the rain and for footsteps at the edge of the tent. When none come, he nestles back down, as close to Henry's bulk as he dares. At that same moment, Henry rolls from his back onto his side, arm flopping onto Harry’s waist.

Harry indulges himself. Pretends this is a lovely hotel room somewhere people won’t look too hard at two men together. Rain on the windows, and the most handsome man in the world waiting to be awakened with a kiss.

A low, soft “nfn” is followed by the hand on his waist tightening, tugging at his shirt. Harry gives in and lets himself be drawn closer.

The next noise is more insistent, a wordless mumble and now it’s Henry’s turn to cuddle closer. Harry wonders what he’s dreaming of, and hopes it’s pleasant.

Then Henry’s thigh nudges his own, and the nature of the dream becomes clear.

He’d heard several of the men snickering to each other about Henry being well-endowed, and while it had fueled some intense imaginings as he fell asleep each night, he hadn’t put much stock in it as a truth.

It seems they weren’t exaggerating.

The temptation to let Henry sleep, to simply be manhandled and pawed at the whims of his tentmate is strong. Indeed, if he thinks about it too long, his own cock threatens to join the proceedings. But that was not their agreement, and so he sets a hand on Henry’s cheek, stroking it gently as he murmurs his name.

This has the opposite of the intended effect. Henry whines, hips rolling lazily, and turns his face to nuzzle at Harry’s palm.

“Henry, you’re dreaming.” He scritches at the edge of one sideburn and Henry sighs, eyes fluttering open at last.

“H‘Lo” he says, voice thick, “s’ still dark. Go back t’ sleep.”

With that, he leans lazily but deliberately forward and kisses Harry once on the lips. He does a poor job of containing his gasp, and of keeping his fingers from slipping from Henry’s cheek to his mussed hair.

His nails snag on tangles and Henry groans, hips bucking a moment before the pain brings him fully awake. Then his eyes are huge and watery as he backs away, looking perilously close to clawing his way from the tent.

“M’ so sorry Harry, I’d been dreaming, thought I still was. I didn’t mean to, to…”

Harry has always been a curious man, even when it does not serve him. When combined with the affection and hope bubbling in his chest, that impulse knocks down any chance of letting the conversation go.

“Am I to take that to mean the dream was about someone else?” He says it gently, teasingly, so Henry will not recoil from an anger that isn’t there.

A long pause as Henry meets his eyes, no longer scrambling away but still staying out of reach.

“It wasn’t. Hasn’t been for weeks. I don’t mean nothing by it, Harry, honest I don’t.”

“That’s a shame.” Harry shifts an inch closer, “for if you had, I’d have reciprocated.”

He watches with pleasure as Henry parses his words, the way his gaze shifts from apology to hunger in a blink.

“You mean it?”

“I do.” Harry crawls the remaining space between them, assuming Henry will sit up. Instead, his tentmate falls onto his back, breath coming quicker when Harry straddles him, “you’re magnificent, Henry. And I haven’t the heart to deny that, not when you look at me this way.”

A laugh, shy but very real, “If we’re talking about looks, doc, think we ought to talk about the one you’re giving me now.”

“Is it too much?”

“No. It makes me feel…small. In a good way.” He licks his lips as Harry shifts down onto his elbows, bringing their faces oh so close, “do you do this a lot, then?”

“A few times. But never like this. Usually it’s something quick and, well, you know how most men see me. They assume my demeanor means I want them to be in control. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy that but…” he runs an appreciative hand up Henry’s chest, “you bring out an entirely different side of me. I want…” He hesitates, unsure of how the next part will sound.

“What do you want, lovely thing?” Henry’s fingers pet over his hair.

“I want to treat you like a prize stallion. Bought and paid for, to be ridden as hard and as often as I please.”

“Jesus god.” Henry bucks against him, “you gonna ride me, Harry?”

His ambition wars with his common sense and loses, “Not tonight. I don’t have anything to make that easier, and we do have to actually ride tomorrow to find the others. I need to be able to sit down.”

“Please? We can think of something, go slow, I’ll be good so it won’t hurt” Henry continues rolling his hips. Their positions mean that his cock grinds against Harry’s still-clothed ass, and each thrust brings a series of new, delightfully needy sounds from the larger man.

“No.” Harry shakes his head, keeping his tone light, “even though you’re asking very sweetly. Which is very good of you, Henry.”

A real moan this time, loud enough to make him glad they’re lost and alone in the woods.

“S-sorry” Henry’s blush is clear, even in the darkness.

“No need for such apologies. You are good, Henry. My good boy.” He kisses him once, keeps their lips close as he adds, “how shall I reward you?”

“Anything, I’ll do fucking anything sir, ohjesus” he hides his face, “what a mess I am, talking ridiculous-”

Harry grips his chin, says sweetly yet firmly, “Look at me.”

Henry looks.

“You’re not being ridiculous. You’re being polite. Which I very much enjoy. But since coming up with an answer to my question is taxing you, I won’t press the matter” he sits back, wriggling awkwardly from his sleep pants, “I’ll simply decide for the both of us. Doesn’t that make things simpler?”

Henry nods excitedly. Harry shoves Henry’s shirt up his chest, repositions himself so his cock is rutting against his belly. What a marvelous world this is, housing the sight of dark hair covering the pale swell of skin and the way Henry moans out little “ohs” as Harry begins moving.

“I, I like that. Didn’t know it was a thing you could like.” He kisses Harry’s shoulder, “like that I can make you feel good with just being how I am.”

“How you are is nothing short of wondrous.” Harry returns the kiss, first to his shoulder and then to his mouth, “my sweet Henry.”

“M’yours alright” comes the mumble against his lips, “be yours anytime of day. You always look so good in the morning, bet you look even better in bed, curled up in the sun, could wake you up with my mouth on your cock, work my fingers into you once you’re eager” his hands are roving now, pressing up Harry’s sides then around his back to pet his skin or grope for his ass, “you must work some place with a desk, could hunt you down come lunch, make a mess of you all over your papers and that.”

Harry nips his collarbone in warning, “and what makes you think you’d be doing any of the fucking, hm?”

A new, wicked grin spreads on Henry’s face, “because I’m letting you be in charge and we both know it.” One hand digs into Harry’s thigh, the other reaches around him to grip Henry’s own cock, “I must outweigh you by what, fifty pounds? And I work outside all day too, make my living with these” the hand on his hip squeezes, “can throw you around like a goddamn doll if I wanted to, doc.”

“God yes.” Harry drops his head to Henry’s shoulder, grinding frantically against his belly.

“Bet I could hold you up and fuck you, bet your tighten up real sweet when someone’s rough, your ass’ll feel so good, might see if I can get myself off in it more than once, really fill you up, so you gotta go to work or to bed still dripping down your legs”

He muffles a laugh at how verbose and blue Henry is. He’ll have to experiment to see which he enjoys most; Henry shy and begging, or Henry spilling filth into his ear while they tax the bed frame.

“God I love how you laugh, you’re always so goddamn excited, s’not fair, someone shouldn’t look so fuckable talking about lichen, but I gotta sit there and watch you smile and not be able to get on my knees and show you all the ways I can make you smile harder.” the sounds coming from behind Harry are obscene, Henry fucking his fist with abandon, “you fucking tease, wandering around in shorts where I can’t slap your ass in them, can’t yank them down and let you ride me over and over, fuck” he arches beautifully, “fuck, Harry, Harry.”

Harry kisses him, stray ejaculate catching his skin as he does. Henry gasps into the kiss and Harry slips his tongue between his lips, teasing and eager as thrusts forward a half-dozen times before spurting all the way up Henry’s chest.

They’re boneless now, save for where Henry is using all his strength to keep Harry hugged to his chest.

“That” Harry manages after a moment, “that was probably not the kind of riding lessons James meant you to give.”

“No.” Henry drags the sleeping bag back up over them, “like them better though, don’t you?”

“Much. Though I predict that when they…intensify” he squeezes Henry’s thigh playfully, “I shall be even more sore than I was those first few days.”

“Promise the ride’ll be worth it.” Henry yawns, kissing him on the brow, “g’night, lovely thing.”

He kisses Henry’s jaw, excited for what the dawn, and the days after, might bring now that they’ve found each other.

#yeehawgust 2024 #amc the terror #goodcollins #henry collins #harry goodsir

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