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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part twenty two) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part twenty two: Y/N is about to take the stage together with her horse Meadow, but stage fright is making it very difficult to bring the evening to a successful end. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Opening scene: First Defeat - Noah Gundersen, Meadow’s freestyle: Stairway To Heaven, Immigrant Song, Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

Y/N dips the sponge foaming with leather soap in a small bucket of water, and softly moves it in circles over the gullet of Meadow’s cognac colored saddle. Making sure to get into the little curves and edges of the beautifully decorated piece of craftsmanship, she picks up an old toothbrush and gently sweeps the dirt out of the grooves; it’s one of the older tricks in the book.

The maintenance does a lot of things besides calm the mind. It keeps the material supple, stops it from tearing, therefore saddles and bridles last longer. The leather will be soft on the horse’s coat and prevent sores and irritation of the skin. Clean and shiny tack says a lot about a person. They are usually precise, provident, and have a keen eye for detail. Often perfectionists who leave nothing to chance. Y/N is such a person.

Dean watches her, adoration on his features. She hasn’t spotted him yet, too focused on the chore. His hands are buried in the front pockets of his jeans while he leans against the door of the makeshift tack room, where she’s working in silence. He notices how loose hairs have escaped her french braid, how she bites her lip while concentrating. He notices the black smear on her cheek, her hands grimy from the mixture of soap and dirt coming from the saddle. He notices all those little things, and all else he loves about her.

There might be a soft smile on his lips, but his eyes give away how much his heart is hurting. He hasn’t been able to ban the haunting words from his thoughts, nor the realization that came with it; no matter how much time he puts between the past and present, he can’t outrun those dark days. The troubled cowboy wishes he could tell her, but he doesn’t want to drag his girl into this. She would pity him, be disgusted. She would run as far away as she could, and he wouldn’t even blame her if she does just that. The fact that he is unable to be truthful, has him doubt everything they have accomplished. How can he ask her to trust him, when he can’t be honest with her? When he doesn’t even trust himself?

Y/N rises from the small stool to get a cloth from her tack box in order to polish the saddle, when she notices a figure from the corner of her eye. For a second she startles, but then realizes it’s her boyfriend. “How long have you been standing there?” she chuckles. “For a little while,” he admits, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slightly bigger smile. “Didn’t mean to creep you out.” “Don’t worry, you didn’t. Fergus MacLeod on the other hand…” Y/N comments, squirting some shine cream on the cloth.

Before she returns to her stool again to finish the dirty job, Dean steps closer and takes her hand. Desperate for her to ground him, he lets his fingers trace her stained knuckles, taking the cleaning product from her and putting it aside. He focuses on their hold and keeps quiet, being more tentative than conversational. “Dean?” Her voice is laced with confusion and worry, and when he looks up, he sees that her eyes match the warm sound. Willing to do anything to take those concerns away, he cups her face and gently pulls Y/N closer. His lips catch hers, sweetly at first. Dean cherishes the moment when she melts into his touch, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t unsettle him when she unwinds her fingers from his, because he can feel his cowboy hat leave his head, those same fingers now running through his short hair.

Dean takes his time, eyes closed and his long lashes brushing against her cheek. He draws her in, moving his hand up her side as if he’s afraid she might slip away at any moment. There’s a hint of distress in the way he is kissing her, even though she can tell he is trying to hide it. Knowing that now is not the time to question his reasoning, she gives him what he needs so hopelessly. After a long, intimate minute, in the shelter of the small tack room, Dean parts from her. Y/N hopes to see a smile, but his eyes remain closed as he presses his forehead against hers.

“What’s going on?” she encourages, gently. “Nothin’. I’m alright,” he claims, but when she raises her eyebrows at him knowingly, he gives her an explanation, even though it’s not the whole truth. “Fergus MacLeod got under my skin with the way he spoke to you, is all.” “Oh, you mean the pet names?” She scoffs, shaking her head at the memory. “I wouldn’t read into it. He’s an Englishman; they address women like that.” “Still…” Dean rubs the pad of his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the grease. He is beginning to find his footing again. “I’m the only one who gets to call you that.” “And you think I’m the jealous one,” Y/N jokes. “You never call me ‘darling’ or ‘love’ anyway.” He grins at her mockery, especially when she overdoes the accent. His eyes are still sincere as ever. “Because you’re my Yankee,” he says softly.

Her smile becomes brighter, her nickname rolling from his tongue usually having that effect. And for just a second, Dean forgets about all the worry in the world. He kisses her once more, short and sweet this time, daring to take a hold of her gaze now that his mask fits again. “You stood your ground when that stuck up made that offer on Meadow,” he compliments. “You basically told him to go fuck himself. That was pretty badass.”

Shyly, Y/N shrugs. To her it didn’t cost her an ounce of bravery or willpower. She has gotten offers on her horse before, although never one this high. But Fergus could offer a billion, there is no way in hell she will ever let Meadow go. “She’s priceless, Dean,” the cowgirl explains, simply. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” “I know,” her boyfriend acknowledges. “All I’m saying is that many would have considered it. The fact that it’s not even an option for you, just shows how much she means to you.” He pauses, admiring the strong minded woman before him. “She’s your soul horse.” “My what?” Y/N recalls, curiously.

Dean chuckles, realizing that it’s not a widely known term. It was Ellen who told him about the special bond between human and horse, when he was younger. It became something that always stuck with him, words he never forgot. “Every equestrian comes across that one horse in their life. The one that stands out from all the others, that captures you, takes up a huge space in here.” He taps two fingers on his chest, right where his heart is. “The one you have this unbreakable bond with, who you trust and trusts you. The one you will never forget,” he explains. “That’s your soul horse.”

Y/N begins to glow, because every word he spoke sounds familiar. Dean is right; Meadow is her soul horse. “I like that,” she says, thinking about his words for a second.

Content, she moves past Dean to pick up the polish, in order for her to return to the task she needs to finish. “What else did the snobby Brit have to say?” she wonders, sitting back down on her stool, beginning to rub the cream onto the horn and the pommel of the saddle. “He bought Jovi and Ringo, actually,” the cowboy elaborates, turning to the side to check out the perfectly clean bridle hanging from the tack box door. He’s giving himself something to focus on, feeling the soft leather under his fingers. “Did he! That’s great, right?” she checks, noticing that her boyfriend isn’t exactly thrilled about the matter. Dean glances at her, forcing a smile. “Yeah, the money is certainly welcome.” “I bet Bobby is pleased,” Y/N assumes, wiping down the saddle one last time before she puts the cover back on. “Did he say anything about our dance last night?” “He didn’t. I think he’s lettin’ it slide.” Dean shrugs. “He’s not someone to discuss this kinda stuff anyway, so I’m guessin’ no word about it is good.” Y/N is willing to accept his reasoning. “Well, alright. If you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble.” “I doubt it, and even if he’d give me a hard time, it’s worth the lecture.” Dean chuckles, glancing down at his boots. “Fergus made another business proposition, too.” The cowgirl gets up and lifts the heavy saddle from its stand, carrying it to the tack box and storing it away. “What’s that?” “He wants me to train one of his horses,” he tells her. Her eyes grow wide as she shuts the door. “A stallion? Dean, that’s huge!” The wrangler chuckles at her enthusiasm. “It’s just the one.”

“Do you realize that this could be the start of something very rewarding? He owns stables full of licensed stallions. It might be a great stepping stone. I mean, look at Jovi and Ringo; they were sold from under you before you could really shine with them,” Y/N brings to mind. “Riding a talented horse for an owner who has no desire to sell because of the money already coming in with stud fees, is really good for you. This could become your big break.”

Dean hasn’t even looked at it that way, but he guesses it’s why his girlfriend is so good in her field. She always thinks five steps ahead, seeing opportunities where another person would just see a lot of work. He remains realistic, though, not wanting to celebrate too quickly. “Well, apparently Cain is a handful, so we’ll see how it goes.” “Wait… Cain?” She was already staring at him in astonishment, but now her jaw almost drops to the floor. “As in the Quarter sired by Dual Ray. The one that went for 1.2 million at the Derby auction?! Shut up!”

“Someone watched the news.” Dean grins, the sight of her girlfriend so perplexed being quite amusing. “But, yeah. He’s arriving at the ranch next week. Depending on how bad his behavioral problems are, he’s staying or leaving. I have a feeling MacLeod isn’t telling the whole story.” “Well, even if Cain’s issues are worse than Fergus let on--” She steps closer, slipping her arms around his neck. “- if anyone can fix him, it’s you.”

The confidence she has in him astonishes the cowboy. He doesn’t deserve it, her never ending support, her faith. Even now, all he’s doing is bullshitting his way through this exchange. He hopes to God Y/N doesn’t pick up on his insecurities, because maybe if she doesn’t, they can stay in this bubble for a little while longer.

Another kiss is pressed on his lips and for just that moment, Dean forgets about the demons that so often torment his mind. Unable to resist her even if he tries, the cowboy reels her in. He can sense his Yankee smile against his mouth and he can’t help to copy her expression. When he can feel her weaken in his hold, however, it is quickly replaced with a look of concern. “You okay?” he asks apprehensively, his grip on her firmer to make sure she doesn’t go down, but thankfully she steadies. “Yeah, just a little lightheaded.” Y/N takes a breath. “I’m fine.” “Did you eat today?” Dean requires, both stern and worried. “No,” she admits. “I can’t eat before a competition. Nerves and all.” “Are you kiddin’ me? You’re not up until 8 PM!” he returns, not having any of it. “Yankee, You gotta eat. I’ll buy you somethin’.” “I wouldn’t be able to take even one bite, Dean. Don’t bother. I’ll have an energy drink before I get on Meadow.” “Oh, hell no. You can’t do your run while low on fuel,” her boyfriend decides, carefully letting her go when he’s sure she has found her balance again. “How about yoghurt? Or some fruit? Did that really just come out of my mouth?” Y/N snorts when she notices the double take at his own suggestions, his nose wrinkling in revulsion, as if he just said something vile and doesn’t even know himself anymore. “Would a smoothie work? I saw a stand by the arena,” Dean offers. She shrugs, appreciating his efforts and not wanting to deny him. “I could try.” “Alright.” He leaves a quick kiss on her mouth and picks up his hat, before he intends to leave the tack room. In the doorway he turns around, his body language showing confusion, yet his eyes sparkle. “I never in my life thought I was gonna say this, but I’m gonna buy a smoothie,” he announces, before shooting her a wink and disappearing. Y/N laughs now, shaking her head at his comical ways. Bless him, at least he’s trying.

7.00 PM. Y/N is back in the tack room where she spent most of her morning cleaning her gear. When there was absolutely nothing left to polish, every bit of brass on her saddle and bridle shining so bright it could quite possibly blind the judges once in the arena, she tried to distract herself another way. She did manage to consume the smoothie her boyfriend brought her, though, much to his delight. It helped, because the dizziness has passed, but a stress headache remains. She sat down for lunch with Benny, Jo and Dean, although she didn’t eat anything. Conversation moved past her like the Arizona autumn breeze that’s blowing across the show grounds.

Afterwards, she assisted Dean with his last ride of the day, this time in the ‘working cow horse’ class, which is a fun combination between reining and managing cattle. After feeding the horses and providing them with water, the crew went to the arena to watch some runs. It only triggered restlessness in her heart that seemed impossible to calm, and it didn’t take long before she returned to the stable. She spent some time with Meadow, her dance partner tonight, simply sitting in the corner of her box, watching the beautiful animal chew on her hay, completely at ease with her owner’s presence.

Now, it’s time to prepare herself. Meadow is already tacked up, waiting in her stall until Y/N is ready, one hind hoof resting on its toe, preserving energy. It’s like the animal knows, since she normally is quite impatient, but right before a competition, she prefers to nap on her feet. It’s a huge contrast to her human, who has trouble controlling her anxiety. The smoothie she had earlier is bubbling inside Y/N, her stomach unsettled. Trying to calm herself by making sure that everything is perfect, she goes through the familiar checklist in her head while the soundtrack of her freestyle plays on her phone.

Dean helped her work out the new routine, thankfully. After setting the bar way too high in her first draft, almost making herself cry when she realized just how impossible it was, he suggested more simple lines, but combinations of the patterns. This is supposed to kick up the degree of difficulty without the floorplan being a tangled mess, and highlights Meadow’s strengths. What she had to figure out next, was what kind of music she wanted to ride to.

Her boyfriend contacted Ash, who was more than willing to edit the tunes for the intern. When she offered Dean the idea, she knew it was a hit when she saw his eyes twinkle. They took the request to the former ranch hand, who went to work and knocked it out of the park. Honestly, a part of Y/N cannot wait to ride her new freestyle, but she’s also downright petrified. What if she screws up? What if she forgets her routine? What if she doesn’t nail it, with Congress only two weeks away? What if she fails?

Everything is ready, all she needs to do is change into her show outfit. Y/N strips down, switching her blue jeans and plaid shirt for black. The back of her button up is decorated with golden studs in the shape of a guitar, and so are the cuffs and shoulders. During a freestyle the rider is allowed to ‘dress up’ and add elements in the arena, make a show of it. Although she’s not a fan of the whole circus act, and much rather prefers to let her performance do the talking and convincing, she wasn’t resenting the idea Ash offered when they listened to the soundtrack. Ellen helped her sow on the miniature pyramid-shaped beads, and the end result is better than Y/N could have hoped for.

The focused competitor slips into her onyx chaps which she just took out, and laces the leather strap through the belt loop of her jeans. She then continues to unpack her cowboy boots, which are the same color as Meadow’s fiery brown tack, shining just as bright. Her brass spurs follow, the rowel jingling when she turns to take a round box from the top, unzipping the lid. The beautiful Milano hat inside has her smile down on the crafted head piece; it was a Christmas gift from her parents. One she received right before her first show with the Quarter mare, the horse who gives her so much more than she could ever hope for. She picks it up by the crown and places it on her smooth hair which Jo braided earlier, the action raising a sense of pride in her chest. The hat makes the outfit, but it comes along with so much more. It gives back some of the confidence her insecurities took away. She’s a cowgirl, in heart and soul.

Last but not least, she takes an object from the same container that safeguarded the Milano. Reminiscing, Y/N draws her thumb over the gold plated metal, feeling the edges of the letters and symbols under her fingertip; it’s her State Championship belt buckle. She closes her eyes, the memories of that epic run flooding her thoughts welcomingly. The stadium spotlights, the roaring crowd, her name in bright letters on the scoreboard. And then that indescribable feeling of horse and rider becoming one, the thrill of coming down that centerline and just knowing that this was going to be their moment, the ride of their lives. She will be in seventh heaven if she manages to get even remotely close to the pinnacle they reached that day.

Footsteps draw her back to reality, the dry ground crunching under heavy boots in the alleyway between the stables. Y/N doesn’t question who it is, Dean promised to help her with the warmup, and since she has stated in her very detailed schedule that she is going to get on her horse ten minutes from now, she is expecting his arrival. Turning around, she meets his astonished gaze in the doorway, his jaw slightly ajar. “Do you think I’d be showing off if I wear this?” she wonders, offering him a look at the coveted buckle.

But Dean only has eyes for a different prize. He needs a moment to recover from the sight of his girlfriend. She’s drop dead gorgeous after a morning muck out, with hay in her messy locks and dust sticking to her damp skin. But now, dressed in her black show outfit, her hair braided and her make-up bringing out the color of her eyes even more, he can’t help but stammer. He chuckles warmly, a blush on his cheeks. “You look - you look amazing.”

His reaction draws a smile on her lips, but she’s too anxious to really appreciate the compliment. There is a time schedule to be considered after all. “My State Champion buckle, or a simple one?” she asks him again, not daring to make the call herself. Dean takes the shiny object, tilting it to admire the award. ‘AQHA State Champion - Maine, 2008’ it says, the inscription curved around a horse’s head, edged in silver and gold. “Wear it,” he decides. “You won that championship fair and square.” “Yeah, I know, it’s just that--” She pauses, fiddling to close the buttons on her cuffs. “I don’t wanna fail to meet everyone's expectations.” The cowboy looks up at her from under his lashes, his green eyes reading her for a second. “Everyone’s expectations? Or your own?”

Dean has a solid point, but evaluating thought processes is not something she needs right now. She sighs and tries to bury her frustrations, very much aware that she snaps easily when she’s on edge like she is now. It wouldn’t be the first time that she loses her cool with someone who is actually there to support her, it usually being either her parents or her brothers. She doesn’t want her boyfriend to endure the same unreasonable behavior, and so she shrugs at that. “I don’t know, really. I mean, yes, I expect a lot from myself, but the thought that people on the sideline, like Bobby, Jody, Donna… you, will judge my every move,” she pauses, letting an anxious sigh fall from her lips. “It honestly makes me feel sick.”

“You shouldn’t let it get to you like that,” Dean suggests, handing her back the buckle. “Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done,” she returns, the edge of her voice much sharper than she meant to come out. While pulling her belt through the loops, she briefly looks up, noticing his head cocked back slightly while his brows meet his hairline, which triggers her to mutter an apology. “Sorry.”

He can see the embarrassment in her stance as she turns her gaze to the floor. The slight offense he took desolates, making room for sympathy. He can tell she’s struggling to cope with the nerves and the pressure she is under, pressure she shouldn’t even be experiencing. This competition is a practice run, an environment to test her new freestyle and get back into the rhythm of the shows after a long break. However, he understands that downgrading this event will not do her any good. What he needs to convince her of, is to believe in herself, like he believes in her.

“Yankee, you’re never gonna fail my expectations. The way I see you doesn’t stand or fall with this performance, or any.” He takes her hands in his, squeezing them softly in order to prevent her from getting lost in that dark forest of negative thoughts. “I get that you want to prove yourself, but it ain’t necessary. The girls already love you, and the fact that Bobby didn’t rip me a new one for kissing you last night proves a point too. All that won’t change after today’s run.”

Carefully, Y/N glances up, met by the sight of empathy swimming in mystic green eyes. “I’m here to back you up, okay? I’ll help you with the warm up, and Jo will be there to assist. It’s gonna be fine. Your horse is awesome, your freestyle is awesome, you are awesome,” he reassures, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Now get your fine butt on that horse.” She takes a slow breath, the smile that his words surface saying just how much that means to her. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

With Meadow’s bridle in hand, she exits the tack room, feeling somewhat lighter than she did ten minutes ago. Dean’s kind words and endless support doesn’t take away the anxiety entirely, but it has enough of an effect to have her believe that maybe, just maybe, she is going to survive this evening. At least he is by her side, not just as her man, but as her trainer as well, and with the way he has been with her so far, she can already tell how different he is from her former instructor. No list of exercises she needs to go through during the warm up, no ‘do this’ or ‘don’t do that’ while she’s preparing to get on her horse. It’s a huge contrast, but one for the better. Maybe Dean is right, maybe it is going to be fine.

Dean looks up when he notices someone approaching from the corner of his eye, the small framed silhouette with a dancing ponytail unmistakably Jo’s. She has a bucket half full with water in one hand with a sponge floating on the surface, a rag hanging from her back pocket and a groom bag over her shoulder. “You ready, sis?” she asks, popping her head over the stable door. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/N sighs, tightening the sinch. “You’re gonna do great. Especially with your lover whispering in your ear.” She hands them both a headset, one with a small microphone for Dean and one with an earpiece for her best friend. “Keep it clean, no heavy breathing. The poor girl needs to stay focused.”

The cowboy glares at his cousin, but he bites his tongue, simply because the comment made his girl let out a laugh. Instead he turns on the small device and pushes it in his pocket, secures the mic to the collar of his shirt. Y/N clips the headset behind her belt as well and pushes the bud into her ear. After holding the bit in front of Meadow’s mouth for her to accept, her owner pulls the crown piece of the bridle over her horse’s ears, securing the straps. Focused on her task at hand, she notices a crucial element missing. “Crap, Grandpa’s pendant,” she realizes, pushing the reins into Jo’s hand before rushing back into the tack box.

A moment later, she returns with a small suede bag in her hand, from which she carefully allows a piece of jewelry to roll into her hand. Curious, Dean watches her pick it up between her delicate fingers, after which she attaches it to Meadow’s bridle. Two beads are laced onto a thin leather cord, and the way she handles the small yet precious object, he can tell it holds much value. “Is that your good luck charm?” Jo wonders. “Yeah,” the rider acknowledges, taking back the reins from her friend and leading Meadow out of the stable. “My grandfather gave it to me on my very first show when I was seven.”

Y/N has never ridden a test without the jewel, and she can’t picture doing so in the future. The top bead is made from her birthstone, the one dangling underneath represents a guardian angel. While taking her horse outside, she rubs Meadow’s neck, tracing the charm for a second as the setting sun catches the gem. Before she had to say goodbye to the most influential person in her life, she never really pictured anyone when she saw the little figure with wings dangling from Meadow’s browband, but now she likes to think it is him, watching over her.

A couple of minutes later, Y/N has taken a seat on Meadow’s back, who excitedly walks towards the warm up area with Dean and Jo in tow. Flanked by her trainer on her right side and her groom on the left, a hint of relief hits the cowgirl unexpectedly; she has never been surrounded by a team this solid.

The horse and rider enter the side arena, where a dozen others are warming up in what seems to be a whirlwind of sensories. Music reaches Y/N’s hearing, coming from the competition ring and mixing with loud cheers of the spectators. Trainers shout at their pupils from the sideline, the steward calling for the next on the list. In her first loop in a simple walk, someone cuts her off and Meadow pins her ears back, clearly not at ease in the chaos.

“Can you hear me?” Dean asks through the headset, leaning over the fence of the training field. The familiar warm yet gruff sound in her ear silences the distractions that have her dizzy in an instance. She looks over her shoulder at the head wrangler, nodding in response. “Okay, good. Warm her up like you would do so at home. Try to seek a space where it’s not too crowded, you don’t have to use the entire area,” Dean advises, calmly. “Just focus on my voice, alright? Take a deep breath and focus on me.”

Y/N closes her eyes for a short second and collects herself, doing precisely what he tells her to do. Throughout the warm up he never underlines what she’s doing wrong, but praises her for every right move, building her confidence. For a short period of time it has her wondering if he’s sugarcoating and isn’t giving it to her straight, but minute by minute, she finds it easier to let go of that thought. His encouraging words manage to cast away the fear of screwing up, and before she knows it, she has forgotten about the other riders in the arena, nor does she notice her distracting surroundings. All she hears is his soothing vocals, all she feels is the large animal underneath her, who seems to respond well to their trainer too. Meadow might not be able to hear Dean, but apparently senses the tension oozing from her rider, and becomes more relaxed with every stride.

It’s five minutes until her starting time, when Y/N halts by the fence, next to Jo and Dean. Her friend and groom for the day takes her cue and approaches her with the bucket, wiping down Meadow’s sweaty skin with the sponge, cleaning the mare up before it’s her time to shine. Y/N takes out her ear buds, since she’s not allowed to compete with them, and hands the headset to Jo, trading it for a water bottle. “She feels good, doesn’t she?” Dean checks, smiling up at her while he takes the plastic flask from his student. The woman in the saddle nods. “She does.”

“Y/N Y/L/N! Two minutes!” The rider feels the nerves find their traction again when she glances at the steward who called out her name. She nods in acknowledgement at the man holding a clipboard, and when Jo is done toweling Meadow down, she steers the Quarter towards the entrance of the main arena. The applause that the previous competitor receives grows louder as they approach, meeting the rider on their way over. He seems very pleased with his horse, and the first thing that comes to her mind is that he must have had a good score, a score she needs to beat. The serene mindset the wrangler got her in, is threatened to be disturbed by the stage fright that grips her by the throat. Suddenly, it hits her; this is it.

“Hey…” Dean lays his hand on her knee when he detects that he’s losing her again. “Yankee?” The cowgirl snaps her gaze from the intimidating competition ground to her trainer, who meets her with the most relaxed expression he can muster, despite his worry about her current mental state. He can tell she’s downright scared, not to fall off her horse or anything, but to make a mistake, drop the ball and to have to leave the boxing ring defeated. Right now, the illuminated soil that is about to be her stage isn’t a dance floor to Y/N. No, her eyes tell him a different story, the one of a gladiator in a colosseum, being thrown into the pit for the lions, destined to be defeated, destined to fail.

“When you go in there, I need you to forget about everything,” he starts off, earning a confused look. “What do you mean?” she wonders. “Forget the judges, forget the audience, hell, forget what I’ve told you,” Dean continues, his thumb rubbing her leg soothingly. “The only one you need to listen to, is Meadow. Feel what she tells you and trust your gut when you answer. Let go of all the rest, alright?”

Y/N nods, wetting her dry lips, shooting another glance at the arena before she looks down on the man who has been able to ground her like only one other person has. Dean seems to know who is on her mind, because he reaches for the pendant attached to her horse’s bridle. “He’s with you, and I will be waiting right here, no matter what. You got this, Yankee.”

The encouraging words close off her throat much like the anxiety did earlier, but this time the sentiment is welcoming. Dean’s pep talk helped her see what is truly important, and that this moment is just a short clip of a larger motion picture. She has Meadow, she has Dean, and she has the memory of her grandfather, along with all the wise life lessons that he taught her. Whatever happens in the coming five minutes, that will not change. She trusts the beacon of support that is the man by her side. But in this very moment, most importantly, she trusts Meadow.

Y/N breathes in through her nose and exhales slowly, rubbing her horse’s shoulder, more confident than she has felt all week. The gatekeeper opens the fence for the horse and rider, nothing standing between them and the brightly lit competition ring.

“The next contestant of the evening is Y/N Y/L/N, all the way from Freeport, Maine. This young lady rides Meadowsweet, a nine year old mare sired by Gunner, and these two have made a name for themselves already. Folks, you are going to be watching the current State Champion and this pair has qualified for the prestigious All American Quarter Horse Congress in three weeks. This will be the premiere of their brand new freestyle, so get ready for a rock ‘n roll ride, y’all.”

Y/N peers into the grand arena, tilting her hat forward just enough to keep the spotlights from blinding her. She can feel Dean’s fingers slip from her knee, setting her free now that she has taken control. Focused and determined, the cowgirl makes eye contact with the sound technician, raising her hand. Showtime.

The first tones of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven begins to play, and Y/N enters the arena slowly. The timid music silences the crowd, suspense hanging thick in the air. Meadow moves down the centerline and halts, her head low and submissive, waiting for her cue. The intro finishes, the acoustic notes dying down and leaving a second long silence. Knowing the music by heart, the woman in the saddle squeezes her fist holding the reins slightly, preparing Meadow for what is about to come. Then, right as Immigrant Song rings in her ears, she sends her Quarterhorse into a spin.

With high speed and great technique, the mare revolves on the spot like a helicopter rotor, and after going full circle four times stops dead in her tracks, before doing the exact same movement, only this time turning right. The crowd goes absolutely ballistic, and it’s then that Y/N feels a wide smile spreading on her face; she’s gonna nail this run.

One small aid is enough to push Meadow forward, the horse shooting down the centerline like an arrow leaving its bow. With only a few yards between the cowgirl and the judges, she sits back in the saddle, signalling Meadow to dig her hind legs into the ground and progress into an impressive sliding stop. It’s bold, because if the maneuver isn’t spot on, the panel will easily detect the error. The execution is perfect, however, and gathering from the entertained and impressed expressions on the judges’ faces, Y/N’s game plan is working.

With attitude, Meadow rolls back and races around the arena on a large circle, her long strides evenly powerful and rhythmic, this time to the soundtrack of Whole Lotta Love. With her left hand forward between the bay horse’s ears, the cowgirl peers down the path that’s to come, and after having gone full circle, she switches to a left canter through a flying change and mirrors the previous pattern.

The buzz ignited by both the thrilling ride and the response of the audience only fuels her confidence. When she exits the last full speed circle, she transitions into a lope, a collected gate Meadow masters well. The horse and rider combination crosses the arena through a neat half pass. It’s a sideways movement right in front of the judges, the talented mare showing off her reach and finesse.

Not once does Y/N have to correct her dancing partner, every small cue effective. Meadow follows the instructions without question, unable to give a damn about the vibrant ambiance. It’s almost as if the animal can read her owner’s mind, a telepathic connection which can only be established when human and horse have that click and share an unique bond. This is what horse riding is all about, this is the ultimate goal. Two hearts beating as one.

The music builds up to its zenith and shifts to the finishing electric guitar solo in Stairway To Heaven, by the same famous rock band that has been the backing track to this epic performance. On the diagonal, Meadow picks up speed again, her strong muscles rippling under her copper colored coat. The thousand pound being reaches a speed of forty-five miles an hour, accelerating until the opposite corner, where she performs another perfect stop followed by a roll back. There is not a speck of hesitation or doubt, nor any sign of fatigue, despite a sequential series of maneuvers.

After a third stop, she has executed the mandatory patterns, and all that’s left is to go out with a bang. Y/N sends Meadow into one final spin, the tremendous momentum having her dizzy. The sheer power radiating from under her only heightens the high the cowgirl is experiencing, the adrenaline coursing through her veins with the same speed as her horse is turning. After the rapid pirouettes, Meadow breaks off the maneuver on cue in the dead center of the arena, facing the judges. The cheering and whistling crowd almost overrules the dying sound of the guitar strings that are the last notes of the freestyle. Unable to comprehend what just happened, Y/N drops the reins, spreads her arms and folds them around her horse’s neck. Overcome with emotion she hugs her four-legged friend, without words thanking her for the ride of her life.

Only then the cowgirl realizes the roar coming from the spectators, many of them having risen to their feet. As the commentator praises her performance, she circles Meadow back toward the exit of the ring, waving at the enthusiastic kids on the first row. In that four minute run, Y/N and Meadow have stolen the hearts of everyone who is here to witness the definition of horsemanship. She can’t stop herself from smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt while her horse walks along the bleachers, the mare looking at the applauding audience, seeming to understand that it’s for her.

As they approach the gate, the rider hears one girl squeal above all others. Y/N hasn’t even looked in the direction of where the sound came from, but she already knows it’s Jo. Dancing on her feet in absolute delight, she meets her by the fence and high fives her best friend. “God damn, Sis! You rocked out there!” she exclaims, patting Meadow on her neck as well.

Y/N laughs full heartedly at her giddy friend, the ecstasy of her perfect run still in full effect. But when her gaze meets Dean’s, that happiness becomes overwhelming. The handsome cowboy is waiting for her, just like he promised. Gleaming eyes match his sly smirk, but there’s more to the expression, sentiment swimming in his emerald greens. The sight of him breaks something inside of her, and she’s unable to keep the tears at bay.

It’s then that Meadow halts, and just outside of the main arena, Dean steps towards his girl and pulls her into a hug. With her left hand still holding the reins, Y/N embraces the man who she owes so much gratitude. After all, if it wasn’t for him, the freestyle wouldn’t have turned out remotely as good, not to mention that the stress would have done her in. Today he was more than just a trainer or her boyfriend. He was the anchor that kept her grounded, the rock that wouldn’t budge when the waves crashed against her, and the sign that she needed to get out of the maze of self-doubt. She can feel Dean nuzzle his nose into her hair. “I’m so damn proud of you,” he whispers, words only meant for her to hear. Moved by his words, she hugs him a little tighter before she lets him go and wipes away her happy tears. A smile that reaches his ears is still there when she pulls herself together again. “She - she was absolutely amazing,” Y/N stammers, combing her fingers through Meadow’s mane. “The feeling she gave me… I can’t explain it. It was like we were flying.” “That’s because you were, Amelia Earhart,” Jo quips, clearly over the moon for her friend. “Want me to cool Meadow down so you can wait here for your score?”

Y/N nods, feeling her horse’s flanks expand rather rapidly every time the large animal inhales; she really gave it her everything. Once the cowgirl has both feet planted on solid ground, she scratches the mare’s favorite spot behind her ear, facing the beautiful Quarter. Meadow presses her large head against her owner’s chest, more to get rid of an itch than to return the love, making her human giggle. Then the rider hands over the reins to Jo, who takes the bay horse away from the commotion.

Still stunned, Y/N takes another breath, glancing back into the arena. “Did they call the points yet?” Dean comes to stand next to her, gazing at the board in the corner, above the bleachers. “No, I didn’t hear anything.” With her hands placed on her waist, she breathes in, trying to ignore her stomach, which begins to do backflips again. This time, there is not much she can do to influence the outcome, however. Meadow did the best she could and she didn’t make a single mistake; Y/N couldn’t have wished for more. But the new freestyle hasn’t been graded yet, so how the judges will reward the music and the degree of difficulty is still a mystery. The rider tries to tell herself that no matter what number will appear on the screen, she’s satisfied with today’s performance. But as seconds tick by, the suspense builds and eats at her composure.

She can feel Dean’s hand on the small of her back, fingertips tracing soft, calming circles. The motion helps her to pull her gaze away from the digital board, and she glances at the man by her side. Focusing on him has worked so far, so as the tension rises, she tries that tactic again. The world around her stops, her own breathing the only sound she hears, Dean’s touch the only sensation she feels. For a moment, time slows down. But when her trainer’s eyes widen and his jaw falls slack in disbelief, she’s almost too afraid to look at the definite white numbers that can make or break her evening.

It’s only when the crowd erupts that she dares to face the verdict, and what she witnesses, triggers her to clasp her hand over her mouth. Completely stunned, her eyes stay locked on the score, convinced that if she blinks, the numbers will change. She barely registers her boyfriend letting out a cheer, pumping his fists into the air and bouncing on his feet like a little kid. Her view is obstructed when strong arms wrap around her middle and lift her off the ground, but when her gaze locks on the display again, it still tells the same story of victory.

220.5 points.

Unknowingly, she holds her breath, her heart still beating against her chest so wildly, that her cowboy must be able to feel it too. It’s not just a personal best; it tops her old record by three whole points. She broke through the two-twenties, something she only ever dreamed of accomplishing, yet here she is. Shutting her eyes, her thoughts go out to her grandfather, realizing that she has done her guardian angel proud once more.

Dean must have sensed that she got lost in her own head, because he brings her back down from the heavens to their world with a gentle touch upon her cheek. He wipes a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes off her hat, looking at her with so much adoration. His hand slips to the nape of her neck, his forehead bowing to gently rest against hers. Radiant light touches everything in reach, leaving what’s behind them in darkness, together with all the worries and fears. The audience doesn’t seem to be applauding the high score anymore, the wolf whistles and bellows of encouragement instead directed at the couple in the spotlight. Dean didn’t need any more motivation, his lips encasing hers in a soft kiss.

Closing her eyes, she cherishes the moment and smiles against his mouth when Dean uses her cowboy hat to shield them away from all the extra attention. It is in this instance the equestrian realizes something; out of all the rides that she experienced, either in the saddle or in life, this is the one that will go down in memory.

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

Read part twenty-tree here

#Ride With Me #Cowboy!Dean #Dean x Reader #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction

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thessalian · 3 years

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Thess vs Pain Flares

Update on the move: I should not have done that. I should not have done any of that. Because two days later and I can still barely move without absolute agony. Thing is, I had absolutely zero choice. I should have had, but I did not.

See, I got told that none of the work on my flat was going to happen within a few weeks. They still had to find a contractor, etc etc. (And here's me wondering whether they could have just shortlisted contractors before they had me move out, but apparently that's not a thing we think about.) So I thought, "Okay, once we've got the big furniture moved, the little stuff can probably wait, especially if I don't use it. I can move at a leisurely pace and have it take a few days, which will be good for me because I know what happens if I overdo it".

But apparently no.

A note about my desk - it's actually a long IKEA table and because I overestimated the sturdiness of the tabletop, it's sagging in the middle a bit where I used to keep my computer. (Side note: when it was suggested I keep it on the floor, I'd forgotten why I did so until I plugged in the primary monitor and the HDMI cable was too short and actually broke instead of just pulling out of the socket when I set the computer down; which is why on top of moving so much of my shit on Monday, I had to go out to the late-opening big supermarket / catalogue shop in my area to get a new, longer HDMI cable.) So in order to support that sagging middle, I keep my large collection of RPG sourcebooks under there - at least, the ones I don't immediately use. Two stacks, 75% hardcover, each standing at least two feet high. Now, because I was no longer having my computer on top of the desk, I didn't think I needed to bring them straight away, but my stepfather insisted I needed them under the sagging part of the desk still. And while thankfully I didn't have to carry all those books the whole few hundred yards to the new place, I did have to haul them from study to trolley in the corridor, drag the loaded trolley to the doorway (twice; this took two trips from sheer weight), and then haul them into the new study and set them down properly. Strenuous but doable under normal circumstances. Not so much when exertion causes pain flares.

Now, I was due to have my internet and phone connected in the new place on the Tuesday morning, so I figured, "Well, at least I can leave the phones, the router, and the end table that the router sits on until tomorrow morning; I won't need it until then". But my stepfather, after he was finally done wiring up the stove, asked if there was anything left that needed to go to the new place, and I told him that there was a couple of things, and his response: "Get that done this evening, then". He was done with his wiring job, and could have helped, especially when I said, "That's the plan, but I needed to sit down first". He did not do that thing. I'm trying to be generous because I know he has back issues and he did help with the big stuff, but ... seriously, this is the kind of thing that usually takes over a week to pack into boxes and more than two people to move, even if only from room to moving van and to new room. He expected to help only with things that are too awkward or heavy for a single person in average physical condition to lift.

Also did I mention that because he couldn't connect the stove on my first night, most of this was without food? I did two days of this fuelled by one cup of coffee, one bowl of cereal, two boxes of raisins and some rice cakes.

And now I am paying for it. I cannot walk beyond a hobble. Everything hurts very, very badly. It's a bit better than yesterday, but that's not saying much. I am trying not to move at all right now, if I can avoid it. Sitting upright hurts but honestly, it's not like lying down would be much better. I should not have done any of that. I should not have been obliged to do any of that. Or at least, not as much of it as I did.

At least the internet was hooked up without any issues. Can't say the same thing about the phone, mind. Apparently engineers are working on it. But I have the internet, so that's okay. I can live with that. And the stove is working - not that my appetite is all that great right now, but if I can manage food, at least I will be able to cook it. And I'm largely settled, so ... again, yay.

Silver linings - I need them pretty badly. The plumbing in this place is worse than the plumbing at the old place, I can't have a shower because there's no shower pump so it's bath in a tub that's a bit too narrow for about three months at rough estimate (and given my stepfather, that's a low-end estimate), and the decor is actively depressing because the previous owner had this obsession with peach. The layout's great, though.And now that the move has forced a declutter, I can do a 'start as I mean to go on' thing about keeping tidy.

Ow.

#Thess has health issues #Thess has fibromyalgia

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jizemderler · 4 years

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Worry {Kim Namjoon/ 김 남 준}

A/N: This is my first (probably not last) bts imagine...it’s fluffy, it’s angsty...enjoy! 즐겨!

As the platform comes down you already see him struggling. While the others are breathing heavily too, they manage to jump down the platform to take their oxygen masks. He on the other hand stumbles down and is caught by a staff member. You check out all of the members before concentrating on Taehyung. The staff starts changing their outfits and fixing their make up. A couple of hands are running down their bodies and suddenly Taehyungs knees give in and you act immediately. You break through the crowd of staff. Since your the chief they move out the way so you can easily reach the young man. You grab his arm and wrap it around your shoulder to guide him into the empty back room. You close the door behind you and shut everybody else out. You know that he is hyperventilating because of the mass outside.

„Drink," you say and prepare all the stuff you're going to need in 30 seconds.

„I will get you 30 seconds of absolute silence. Drink up and get your mask on. Relax. I'll get you ready after that. Understood?" you say and look into his eyes.

„Thank you." he manages to get out and you pat his shoulder before leaving the room. Outside 10 people are waiting to get in to get him ready.

„Back off. Give me his clothes. I have the makeup inside. Don't go in. I'll get him ready in time." you say and everybody does as you say. You walk over to RM. You were furious but you had to stay professional so the show could go on.

„Is he okay?" he asks as soon as he sees you and you nod. „I got it under control. Keep an eye on him on stage. He has trouble breathing - don't crowd over him on stage. He might have a panic attack." you inform him formally.

„Hey," he says affectionately and tries to hold your hand but you're already leaving.

„Tell the others."

„Alright baby boy. Time's up," you say entering the room with his new outfit and smile a little seeing a bit of color on his cheeks.

„Put these on. We got 60 seconds," you say and hand him his new outfit. You turn around so he can change while you pick out the stuff you need for fixing his makeup.

„Done?"

„Yes."

You turn back around and he already has his eyes closed ready for you to work on him. You get his makeup done and step back.

„You're ready," you say and he opens his eyes.

„Don't tell the other ones," you say while handing him a treat and he takes it with a big smile on his face.

He stands up and embraces you in a big hug.

„You're going to wrinkle your outfit!" you scold him half-heartedly but he snuggled his face even more into your hair.

„Thank you for caring for us," he says and you pat his shoulder.

„Get out there. Don't overdo it this time," you warn him and pull back. „Go," you say and open the door before he can say anything. The staff is already waiting for him and they guide him to his place.

***

The show is done and you are packing your stuff when the door opens and the guys come storming in.

„Who is the best crisis manager?" Jin yells and Jungkook answers: "Noona!"

„1,2,3. Thank you." they say in unison while standing in a straight line holding hands and bow in front of you.

„It's my job. I'm chief of staff," you say and keep packing your stuff without looking up and it becomes silent in the room.

„I'm sorry about today." you hear Taehyung say after a long period of silence. You stop mid-movement and sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose.

„I'm not mad at you Tae," you assure him and try to keep calm.

„It doesn't feel like it," he says with a tiny voice and you look up at him. They are all watching you with worried eyes. „I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the industry. I hate seeing you guys like that. It fills me with anger. But I'm a professional and I manage you guys through it. That's why I'm here." you say and they furrow their brows even more and you shake your head. "You're not here just because you can manage a crisis well. You know that right?" Jimin says and you sigh.

„I'm sorry. I'm sorry for worrying you guys. You all did a great job today and I don't want to take away from that. Go home and celebrate. You were great." you say and force a smile on your lips but they don't budge.

„Go! I want to go home too. Get home safely. I'll see you tomorrow."

„Yeah. Let's go." RM says suddenly and you nod without looking at him. He starts pushing the other members out the door and they say their goodbyes. Namjoon is the last one left in the room and you look at each other for quite some time before he takes one step towards you.

„You should go too," you say and he stops in his tracks. A hurt expression passes his face and you look away. „I just need some time alone. It has nothing to do with you," you assure him and he looks at his feet with his hands shoved into his pockets. "I don't want you to feel bad for us...we're fine, really. Just...please don't pull away." he pleads and you don't know what to say. Seeing the members break down always took a toll on you and he knew it. You looked down and let out a big sigh. He took that as a chance to step forward and embrace you in his arms. His warm body against yours seemed to ease the anxiety in your chest. You let him hug you and breathed in his scent to calm your nerves and closed your eyes. You stood there in silence for some minutes and no words were needed for the other to understand how both of you were feeling.

***

Exactly two weeks later your worst nightmare became true. It was during a concert again and the guys had a really packed schedule which meant a lot of training, a lot of sleepless nights, and a lot of anxiety. All of that caused exhaustion which brought you to this day. The song had just ended and all lights went out so the boys could come down unnoticed and change their outfits. You didn't see it immediately because you were giving directions to everyone so the guys could make it in time. But when a group of people gasped it caught your attention and you looked his way just to see Namjoon lying on the floor almost unconscious. You rushed over there immediately and made your way through the crowd hovering over him. You felt panic rise up in your chest but you had to suppress your feelings to stay professional. That was the only way to help him. You took off your jacket and slid your hand under his neck to place the jacket under his head. "Bring a bucket of ice water and a towel," you ordered the guy next to you while freeing Namjoon from his heavy coat. He is half awake and groaning while his eyes roll back. "Namjoon? Can you hear me? Stay with us." you say calmly and check his temperature by touching his forehead and neck. "He is overheating," you say more to yourself and push his hair out of his face. "Get me the first aid kit," you say to another staff member and push everyone away. "Go get the other one's ready. He's fine," you say while taking the bucket of ice and the towel. You dunk the towel into the water and squeeze out the excess water before putting it on his forehead. "It's going to be cold. Don't pull back," you say to him and lift his legs to put them into the ice water. He winces again but listens and stays put. "Wait for two minutes and pull his legs up and stretch his muscles before he gets up. He'll have cramps if he dances with cold and sore muscles," you advise the guy standing by the bucket and he nods.

"I need a bottle of water," you say into the room, and seconds later someone hands you a bottle of which you take the cap off. You slide your hand under his head again and lift him a little so he can take a sip. He is slowly regaining his consciousness and takes the bottle out of your hand to drink. "How are you feeling?" you ask seeing that he is much better now. "Good. Thanks to you," he says out of breath while resting his hand on yours and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. "Stay put until you stretch your muscles and don't get up too fast. Your blood circulation isn't balanced yet," you tell him and stand up. "Get him something to eat. Something sweet will work best," you say to his assistant and he nods before leaving to get something. You can hear Namjoon calling for your name but you're already walking away towards the back door with your hands formed to fists by your side. You can feel all of the members staring at you but you have to get out before losing your shit. As soon as you step out you take a deep breath you were holding since seeing Namjoon on the floor. Your heart was pounding as if it was trying to jump out of your chest and you felt dizzy. The horrible feeling you suppressed now came back in waves to overwhelm you and took your breath away. A tiny sob escaped your lips and you pressed your palm against your lips immediately to stop it from becoming a full-on crying session. You still had to work which meant you had to get over your shock quickly. You took another few deep breaths before calming your breathing and heart rate. After that, you gathered back your courage and went backstage.

The guys were all ready and were standing back on the platform waiting to go back up on stage. Jimin was talking to Namjoon who was nodding to what he was listening to. He seemed back to his normal energetic self. He was always hyping the boys and himself up before going up on stage and checked if everyone was alright. His leadership got him where he is today besides his talent and good looks of course. You were always proud of him since the day you met him - but something was eating away at you and you couldn't just ignore it anymore.

***

After the concert ended you didn't wait for him to finish packing up and went back to your hotel room. They were probably going to meet in one of their rooms to talk about today - so you were hoping not to see him tonight. You wanted to sort your thoughts out before talking to him about your issues. So when someone knocked on your door half-past twelve you thought it was Namjoon. You were wondering why he wasn't just coming in since he knew your password. "Joon I'm really exhausted can we meet tomorrow for breakfast?" you said while opening the door and stopped in your tracks when you saw the eldest standing in front of you. "Jin-ah," you said with wide eyes and he smiled back at you. "Hey."

"Did he send you?" you glared at him and he chuckled while you peaked your head around the corner to see if Namjoon was hiding somewhere. "No. I stopped him from coming over. Can I come in? " he asked and pointed at your room. "I'm really tired. And so are you. Let's just rest, hm?" you said kindly rejecting him and he took time to look at you - trying to understand if you were fine. "Noona,..." he started but you cut him off. "Let's not make a big deal about it. I'll talk to Namjoon tomorrow."

"Being the eldest sucks when you can't help anybody," he whined and you chuckled. "Yeah tell me about it." you laughed, both of you knowing that you were two years older than Jin and he joined with a chuckle. "Now that I've seen you smile a little...I guess I can go. Who's going to comfort baby Namjoon?" he asked trying to lure you in but you were working with them for too long to fall for that trap. "There are 6 of you guys. You'll manage." you mocked him playfully and he sighed theatrically. "I guess we will." he went along with your playful tone and you smiled. "Good night Jin. Sleep well," you said while patting his shoulder and went back into your room.

***

You were having nightmares. The pictures from today were still haunting you and you couldn't sleep. You were turning and tossing when you heard the familiar beep of the door. Someone entered the password in. Since Namjoon was the only one who knew your password you laid still and acted as if you were asleep. He didn't turn on the light or call out your name. You only heard his cautious steps towards you. He climbed into your bed and slid under the covers - wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to his body. He buried his face into your hair and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he whispered to himself thinking you were asleep and tears build in your eyes. His grip around your waist tightened as if he was trying to shield you from bad experiences. "I love you so much," he whispered again after taking another big breath and you couldn't stay still anymore. You turned in his arms and hugged him back, burying your face in his chest. Sobs were escaping your throat which you had been suppressing the whole day. You held on to his shirt firmly as if he was going to slip through your fingers and he let you cry out your worries and fears. He knew he couldn't change anything and just held you. You cried for a long time and he didn't say a word. After a while, your sobs died down and your breathing became even. You had cried yourself to sleep, still holding onto Namjoon tightly and he placed a soft kiss on top of your head before closing his own eyes.

***

The morning after was departure day, so there was nothing planned. So you stayed in with Namjoon and you two spent the day together. There was a gathered dinner in the evening which you decided to attend. Your eyes felt puffy and sore as you woke up. Namjoon was still asleep and you were enjoying his presence right next to you. His face looked so peacefully and your heart skipped a beat. You moved a strand of hair out of his to admire his features. You traced his eyebrows, cheeks, and nose with the tip of your finger. When you reached his lips he slightly opened his eyes and his lips formed to a sleepy smile. He kissed the tip of your fingers and pulled you into his arms. "Good morning," he said with his raspy sleep-deprived morning voice. "Good morning," you answered him and gave him a peck on his lips which made him pout. "What was that?" he asked and you chuckled. "A kiss," you answered well knowing what he meant. "Bullshit," he said and placed his lips on yours to give you a proper kiss. He cupped your face with his hands and caressed your cheek with his thumb while deepening the kiss. You slid your hands under his shirt which resulted in a satisfied moan on his side. You fought for dominance until both of you were out of breath and pulled away unwillingly. "Do we need to be somewhere?" he asked breathing heavily and you smiled knowing what he had in mind. "Not that I know of," you answered and a sheepish smile appeared on his face. "Good," he said and was suddenly hovering on top of you. "You're so beautiful," he said while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and you smiled up at him.

You got ready when dinner time was around the corner and tried to hide your nervousness from him. You couldn't get into an argument before dinner - that would take your courage away. So you tried to stay calm as much as possible and waited for him to come out of the bathroom. "Ready?" you asked when he stepped out and he nodded. He was wearing a casual fit and was still looking like a snack which made you smile. "You look good," you said and he smiled. "So do you, baby. Let's go," he said and held out his hand for you to take it.

Everybody was talking to everybody and the room was filled with drunken laughter and conversations. You've been gathering your courage the whole evening, waiting for the right moment but it had been very hard to catch everyone's attention. "Hey, you." someone said pulling you out of your thoughts and you could see Hoseok who was sitting on the other side of the table staring at you with a big smile holding up his glass of soju. "Cheers!" you said and knocked your glass against his and took a tiny sip. "Hyung. Isn't she older than you? Why'd you call her like that?" Jungkook but in and you chuckled. "I would get scolded if I ever did that." he pouted and you laughed even more. "I don't mind," you said and shrugged your shoulders. "Well, you should." Namjoon stepped in and you rolled your eyes. "Alright calm down lover boy," you said while patting his shoulder and earned a growl from Namjoon and a laugh from Teahyung who was sitting beside him. "I guess that's what it's like to date someone older," Taehyung said and you raised a brow at him. "Did you just call me old?" you asked playfully hurt and Jungkook chimed in: "You are older than all of us, so...". Which earned him a slap on the back of his head by none other than Jin.

"Alright I'm gonna finish this age talk by announcing something." you chuckled and stood up, trying to catch everyone's attention. "I got something to tell you guys." you started and looked around, avoiding Namjoons gaze on purpose. "I thought I should tell you guys in advance, since I consider you all my close friends," you said and smiled at the staff members you've been working with for over ten years. "I'll be transferred to another group by the end of the month. I really loved working with you guys and I hope you'll do even a better job with the new chief of staff," you announced and could feel Namjoons glare burning into your skin. "What? You're leaving? Look I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to call you old..." you heard Taehyung desperately say and smiled down at him. "It has nothing to do with that," you assured him. You were going to add something when suddenly Namjoon jumped up, his chair falling over and rushed out of the room with angry steps and left through the front door. You sighed slightly and forced a smile back on your face. "Let's make this last month even better than the ones before, alright?" you said and raised your glass. After everyone was back to their own conversations you left the room to look for Namjoon. He was standing outside in the cold with his arms crossed over his chest while kicking the pebbles on the ground. You pushed the front door open and immediately had goosebumps all over your body from the cold. "Joon," you called out but he didn't turn around so you walked over to him and stood in front of him. "Hey," you said calmly and put your hand against his arm but he pulled away. "How long have you been planing to leave?" he asked and his icy voice bothered you more than the cold weather. "Not long," you answered and he huffed. "So the whole day, while I was thinking that everything was okay, you were planning to get away?" he said and his accusing tone hurt your feelings. "I wasn't planning to get away." "What were you doing then? Planning to leave me? Thanks for letting me know in front of a bunch of people." he said now louder than before. "I'm not leaving you. I wasn't planning anything. I just chose to work somewhere else. Why are you making it something it isn't?" you ask him trying to stay calm and his condescending huffing broke your heart. He shook his head while turning away from you which was a habit of his when he couldn't control his emotions. "It's not a big deal. We'll see each other every time you're not on tour. We'll make it work." you said and he closed his eyes. "This is so frustrating," he whispered and turned back to you. "This is because of the incident the other day, right?" he said and you didn't answer. "You'll have stuff like that happen wherever you work as long as you're in this industry. That's just how it is. You're old enough to know that." he said and there was no understanding in his voice. He was trying to pick a fight and you were losing your patience. "At least somewhere else I won't have to watch my boyfriend work himself to death," you said and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Just because you won't see it doesn't mean that it won't happen. If you don't want to worry about me or the other guys anymore we'll have to break up."

You couldn't believe he just said that so you could just stare at him in disbelief. He knew exactly that you weren't leaving because you didn't want to care. You were leaving because you couldn't take seeing your most loved ones hurt. Him assuming that really hit you hard. You looked down with furrowed brows and tear escaped your eye. You took a shaky breath before walking back inside without saying anything and ramming his shoulder with yours while walking past him. He crossed a line - and he knew it. Back indie you grabbed your stuff and left without listening to the protests and questions of your friends.

***

He didn't try making it up to you. But didn't make an effort either. So you kept working professionally without acknowledging the elephant in the room. You saw each other while working. You still fixed his clothes or makeup if the others messed up and he looked at you the same way as he looked at other staff members. Polite and friendly. The problems between you two wouldn't have been solved if the day didn't happen. He lacked an understanding of your situation and unfortunately, a day would come where he would be in your shoes.

You didn't get any sleep that night. Things for the concert the next day kept going wrong so through the night different people kept calling you and you had to fix things. It was five a.m when you got your last call and decided to get up and shower to lose the tiring weight of sleep-deprivation. You ordered breakfast but couldn't get to eat it because an emergency occurred with the wardrobe department which meant you had to rush out. You had to rush from place to place so you didn't get to eat lunch or dinner either which meant you were running low on energy when the concert started. You already felt dizzy quite a few times but ignored it because you had no time. "Hey can you approve of this real quick?", someone tapped your shoulder and you pulled your gaze away from the monitor which was showing the boys perform on stage and looked at him. "Sure," you said and he walked away showing you the way. You were really wanky on your feet but you tried to hide it and followed him. When you came back the guys were back down and they were having their half an hour break before the second half of the concert started. You were supposed to check on them if they needed anything so you went to their backstage room. You were about to enter, your hand resting on the doorknob, when you suddenly lost vision. Everything went dark and you blinked a few times before your sight became clear again. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt a headache coming. You took a few deep breaths and walked in after feeling like you could walk normally again.

"Hey, guys. You did a great job," you said clapping your hands and forced a smile on your lips. "Do any of you need anything?" you asked and they looked up from their plates. "Everything is set. Thank you.", Namjoon answered formally as their leader and you nodded. His uninterested overly polite voice was like a dagger through your heart. Were you the only one hurting in this? It sure seemed like that. This must've given you the rest because Yoongi looked up and was looking really worried. "Noona, are you alright? You don't look so..." he started but you interrupted him. "I'll see you guys backstage then," you said and turned around to leave. You must've moved too fast because your vision got blurry again and the darkness crept back in. There was a knock on the door and someone walked in but you couldn't see who. "Are you alright miss?" your staff member asked but you couldn't answer. You tried taking another step but lost balance immediately and hit the ground. You're not sure what happened after that. When you regained consciousness you were lying in Namjoons arms and he was towering over you while caressing your face. "Hey. Can you hear me? Wake up.", you heard his worried voice from far away and closed your eyes again because your eyelids were so heavy. "No, no. Wake up, sweety. Look at me." he said and you forced your eyes open to look into those familiar brown eyes. You blinked slowly a few times before registering your surroundings. "Okay, move." Namjoon suddenly said and lift you up bridal style to carry you over to the couch. He laid you down carefully and made sure you were comfortable. "Medics are about to be here," he said more to calm himself and placed his hand against your cheek. "When did you eat last?" he asked you knowing your habit of forgetting to eat. "Yesterday." you managed to get out and you didn't understand the next thing he growled. He probably cursed.

"Namjoon we need to go. Show starts in five." you heard someone say. "No." he said while holding on to your hand and you tried saying something but nothing was coming out. "I'll watch over her." the staff member who came in said and Namjoon shook his head. "I'm not leaving her like this." he refused and held your hand even tighter as if someone was going to pull you apart. "The medics will take care of her. We need to go. Everyone is waiting." Jin said reasonably and you gathered your strength together and opened your eyes again. You looked into his sad eyes and tried to smile. "Go," you said and tried pulling your hand away. You blinked reassuringly because there was no way for you to talk more. The medics came in right at that moment and he had to move away so that they could help you. "Let's go," Yoongi said softly while putting his hands on his leader's shoulders guiding him slowly towards the door.

***

It was the first time Namjoon hated being on stage. It was the first time he had to act more than sing. And acting fine was the hardest thing to do when thousands of people were watching you. He was going to rush backstage as soon as they got off the stage but a staff member caught him on his way. "We moved her to her hotel room. The medics said she's going to be fine once she gets some rest and sleeps out the meds." he was informed and a wave of relief washed over him. "They said she overworked herself. Hence the dizziness, headaches, and fainting." the staff answered when he asked about the reason. He nodded and the girl walked away. He felt like crying. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. At the same, he wanted to punch someone. The someone being him. He hated himself for leaving you alone and worrying you. You had enough going on and he behaved like a child whose lollipop got taken away.

He didn't get to see you until later that night. It was half-past one when he entered your room. He was afraid of waking you since you really needed to rest but he had to see that you were okay. The lights were all out so he tiptoed to your bed and slid under the covers as slowly as possible. This time you didn't even pretend to be asleep and wait for him to say or do something. You just turned around and wrapped your arms around his waist. He didn't know what to do at first but it didn't take him long to wrapped his own arms around your shoulders and embrace you in a hug. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which calmed you more down than any meds ever could. Both of you didn't say anything for a very long time until your stomach growled very loudly and told him that you were hungry. Your blood shot up into your head out of embarrassment and you were glad that it was dark in the room.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked into the silence and you shook your head. "I just woke up from the sedatives," you answered and he gave you a kiss on top of your head before pulling away from the hug to turn on the night lamp. "What do you want to eat?" he asked while grabbing the hotel phone to call the room service. "I have the breakfast from this morning," you suggested while pointing over at the table where the cold food was standing. He growled something to himself again but it wasn't meant for your ears. "Do you crave something in particular or should I order randomly?" he asked again patiently and you smiled. "I could eat some jjajangmyeon."

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ladyg3m1n1 · 6 years

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RDR2 Headcanon Fic

Well, I thought I was going to sleep more, but my body had other ideas. He’s the fic for my Red Dead Redemption 2 Headcanon. Thank you everyone that liked and reblogged it! A special shout out to @just-a-looser and @marvelevrlasting who wanted me to post it. Here you go. Another shout out to @esidisi who’s just wonderful.

If you haven’t seen the headcanon you can go here http://ladyazelas.tumblr.com/post/183201086983/rdr2-headcanon

Enjoy guys! -S

Hosea’s heart stopped in his chest when he and John arrived in camp late. They had gone out to look for Arthur splitting up to cover more ground. Hosea was worried when Arthur didn’t return with Micah and Dutch but assumed that he just disappeared on his own for a few days as he was prone to do. But it had been nearly a week now, and there was still no sign of Arthur. He had gone to several towns to talk to his contacts. But there was nothing, he hadn’t been seen, hadn’t been heard from. No one knows where he was.

So to come back to camp to see Arthur being lifted by Pearson and Ms. Grimshaw, Hosea felt his stomach drop out under him. “Arthur!” he called worriedly. He went to approach him but a strong arm wrapped around his waist. He looked up into the familiar brown eyes of his lover, and he could’ve sworn he saw tears. “What happened Dutch?” he asked. Dutch took a deep breath and couldn’t meet Hosea’s eyes. “Dutch...what’s wrong with our boy?” he asked. Again Dutch wouldn’t look at Hosea’s eyes. He lifted them up enough to look at John who looked just as worried.

“John...go sit with Arthur for a little while. I need to talk to Hosea,” he said. John nodded looking between the two of them before doing what Dutch said and went to perch himself next to Arthur. Dutch sighed heavily. He still couldn’t look at Hosea at all.

“Dutch...what happened?” Dutch rubbed his face tiredly trying to figure out what to say. While he was doing that, Hosea was trying to piece things together on his own. “It was the O’Driscolls wasn’t it?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. Dutch looked up at him briefly and nodded. He was expecting Hosea to get angry, he had been right all along about that whole mess. What he wasn’t expecting was a fist against his jaw. That was enough to break him from his guilt and make anger spark at him.

“What the everloving hell was that for Hosea?!” he yelled rubbing his jaw.

“You being a complete idiot! You’ve done some pretty shitty stuff over the last twenty years but this?! Nearly getting our boy killed, again!” Hosea screamed. At this point, the gang was all trying not to pay too much attention to them. Though, neither of them gave a damn at the moment, to caught up in each other. Charles, Sean, Javier, and Bill lingered close just in case it got too rough.

“He ain’t a child anymore Hosea! Arthur is a grown ass man and if he didn’t want to go he could’ve fucking well said so!” Dutch screamed back. Hosea gave a mirthless laugh at that shaking his head. “You’re always doing this! Mother henning those two boys. They ain’t even ours!” Hosea went to punch him again at that remark but Dutch was expecting it this time grabbing his wrist firmly. “You only get one of those Matthews,” he growled. “Don’t do it again.”

“How can you even say that Dutch?! We raised those two boys! Taught them both everything they know! You loved them just as much as I do! At least I fucking well thought! And you and I both know Arthur would never say no to you! He loves and respects you to much, so don’t you go giving me that!”

“Look, I know it’s a bit of a mess but Micah…” Hosea cut him off with another laugh.

“Micah! It’s always Micah, isn’t it! ‘Micah’s got a lead in Blackwater, Micah’s in jail, Micah set up a meeting with the O’Driscolls’! Micah’s a manipulative fool who has been nosing at you ever since he joined this gang!”

Micah, who had been sitting close by jumped up in anger. “Now you listen here, old man…” He paused when Hosea took out his pistol aiming it at his head.

“You stay out of this boy! You ain’t family! You may be a part of this gang, but you ain’t family!” Hosea screamed. “Now back up!” he snarled. Dutch put his hand on Hosea’s gun pointing it down.

“Are you crazy?!” he yelled. “Pointing a gun at Micah when he couldn’t have known?!” Hosea pulled back with a growl.

“You’re right…” he said then stepped back aiming at Dutch. “This is all your damn fault! You know Colm! You know this was only going to end in blood! This time it was Arthur’s! I told you this was a trap! Arthur knew there was trouble brewing! But you don’t listen to us! You listen to the man who thinks knows better than anyone else here! You listen to someone we’ve barely known for six months than listen to your family who’s been with you for over twenty years!”

Hosea didn’t notice by this point that tears were welling up in his eyes and a few had already fallen. He was so angry right now, one of his sons could be dying and it would be Dutch’s fault for being reckless with Arthur’s life. But Hosea would share the blame, he should’ve been more forceful with Dutch. Just like he should’ve in Blackwater.

Dutch noticed the tears dripping down Hosea’s chin and felt his heartbreak in his chest. He looked over at Arthur laying nearly motionless on his cot, and John who had his hand on Arthur’s arm squeezing it a little his head low. Shit...Hosea was right. He’s always right. He looked back at Hosea who had his gun lowered and was wiping away tears from his face.

“Hosea...I…” he tried to find the words, but he couldn’t. Sorry, wouldn’t be enough. He knew that. He went to hug the older man but was met with a gun barrel to his chest. “Hosea…”

“Stay away from me, Dutch. And stay away from Arthur until your senses come back to you. There’s a curse on you, Dutch van der Linde. I won’t have it rubbing off on our sons,” he said turning away from him and slowly walked over to Arthur’s tent.

He spoke quietly to John who got up and let Hosea have the chair. Hosea put the gun in his lap, ever ready to fire at anyone that got to close. He stroked Arthur’s hair back from his face, much like he used to when Arthur was younger and sick.

Dutch watched with a heavy heart while his little family hovered around Arthur’s tent. John now sitting by Hosea’s feet with his head leaned up against the older man’s legs. Hosea placed his other hand down to pet John’s hair while his eyes focused on Arthur. Dutch wanted nothing more than to hold them, comfort them in a small way, but he knew there would be no forgiveness from Hosea for a long while.

He retreated back into his tent and tossed Molly out for the night. He closed the flaps of his tent and fell down on his cot tears streaming down his face. It was like a fog slowly lifting from his mind while he replayed every bad decision he ever made since Blackwater. And within those decisions, how many times had he nearly gotten Arthur, John, and Hosea killed. He didn’t sleep that night, he just wept.

It would be three days before he could approach Hosea or Arthur without getting a gun pointed at him. John was just as hot under the collar as Hosea and went the older man went to rest John was looking after Arthur. Dutch thought he could try to get close but John’s gun in his face proved otherwise, he’d just have to bide his time.

The second day he was allowed to at least bring Hosea a book, or a meal, or a blanket when the night fell. But he wasn’t allowed to linger long, and he wasn’t allowed to touch Arthur. The gun finally went away, but that icy stare didn’t. It was Hosea’s way of dismissing him quietly.

By the third day, Hosea finally relented a little. Allowed Dutch to approach Arthur to assess the damage. But he still wasn’t allowed to touch him. Hosea hadn’t spoken to him since their blow out. He didn’t need to, Dutch knew the man well enough to know when he overstayed his welcome.

It would be a week before Dutch was allowed to touch Hosea in any type of way. Hosea had been coughing, roughly, again. His lungs had a wheeze, his cough was wet, he sounded awful. Dutch knew Hosea had been overdoing it. Between him and John looking over Arthur, Hosea was the one everyone saw the most, even when John tried to insist Hosea get rest. The older man would smile but shake his head. John never pushed, but then again, no one dared to.

Dutch finally got the courage to go over to Hosea and put his hand on his back. Hosea looked up at him, eyes exhausted and glassy, face too pale for his liking. Hosea was sick, but he knew he’d never leave. Not this time. Dutch slid his hand down Hosea’s back briefly and grabbed the wool blanket on the back of the chair wrapping it around Hosea’s shoulders tightly. He rubbed his shoulders gently noting the tension in them. After a little bit, Hosea reached up to press his hand on top of Dutch’s and laced their fingers together.

Dutch squeezed them gently and laid a kiss to the top of Hosea’s head eyes fixed on Arthur. He was slowly starting to look better, even if he wasn’t awake yet, he was a fighter, he’d make it. Always did that boy.

He felt something on his other arm and looked up to see John looking at him with that kicked puppy look. Dutch threw his other arm over John’s shoulder pulling him close kissing the top of his head as well. His little family. He would do better, he promised himself. He had to. He couldn’t risk losing them when they were all in such dire need of a good leader. He’d do better. He’d be a better leader, a better father to John and Arthur, and a better lover to Hosea.

He’d do better.

#vandermatthews #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #arthur morgan #spoilers #chapter 2 i think?#angsty #pissed off papa bear hosea #hosea loves his boys #micah's there too #crying #cowboy dads #otp #the curious couple and their unruly sons

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shmlssfanfic-blog · 6 years

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Way Down We Go III.

Summary: Lip Gallagher has made a lot of mistakes these past few years and almost all of them had been while drunk. Now he’s got a new sponsor after a particularly harsh relapse and is looking for a fresh start. But everyone has their pitfalls and working in a garage of recovering addicts has its perks- and its pitfalls. Maybe this will be easier and maybe Lip will have to be put through the ringer once again only this time- he’ll have to do it sober. SPOILERS FOR s8. Canon divergent.

Part One. || Part Two.

warning: hella long. oops.

JD leaned on the table that was between him and Lip and turned his head to look after Tia, jutting a thumb in the direction she had gone while looking back at Lip saying, “She’s a firecracker. Been runnin the place for a little over two years now. Be lost without her.” He leaned back on his elbows and Lip looked at him curiously then after Tia slowly asking,

“You and her- are you like…a thing?” JD watched him as he puzzled through how to ask and then broke out into a wide amused laugh and toothy grin.

“Shit kid, she could be my daughter!” JD laughed shaking his head and then giving a full body shudder, “Jesus no. No she uh just needed a little help and I offered a hand, she’s- she’s family,” he explained after calming down and folding his hands in front of him. Lip nodded and smiled as he scratched his chin thoughtfully before turning back to his paperwork. JD had the typical mechanic look, Lip noticed. He had a five o’clock shadow, salt n’ pepper, and thick dark hair styled back out of his face but could easily hang in his deep set almost black eyes if he ever forgot to style it. He was muscled but not bulky, the build of a man used to working for a living and who knew his way around an engine or heavy machinery. Lip wouldn’t be surprised if he found out JD used to work construction or some such before the garage the way he handled himself. HIs tanned skin looked darker under the dim lighting of the back room and JD lifted a hand slightly while flexing his fingers in a gesture towards the paperwork Lip was finishing up. Lip slid them over. Dark coffee colored eyes read through every line almost dismissively as if he had already made up his mind and Lip leaned forward against the table himself waiting for whatever JD was going to say next.

“So, Tia and Carey,” he started and JD didn’t look up or make a noise so Lip went on, “they the only girls that work here?” he asked and JD shook his head subtly.

“No there’s Eddie,” he said flipping to the last few pages absently. “She’s off today. She and Tia butt heads a lot so I try to keep em separate. Eddie gets in her head she’s better at the books than Tia so - doesn’t go over too well, y’know?” JD dropped the useless papers to the table with a boyish grin that made him look much younger. “When can ya start?” he asked and Lip smiled back as he sat up straighter.

“Yeah, uh, whenever I got no where to be,” he chuckled dryly and smoothed his hands along his thighs while JD stood.

“How about now?” JD asked with that same grin that had Lip feeling right at home as he, too, stood. The blond blinked and looked into the garage then up at JD who was quite a bit taller than he was.

“Right now? Don’t I need like- training or some shit?” he asked scratched his cheek absently and the older man shrugged it off, guiding Lip back into the garage where all the mechanics were busy are replacing this or revving that or oiling this. Carey was off to the side from most of them working on a rather older looking model, pieces parts laid out on the bench beside her while she worked. JD turned Lip towards her.

“No training like doing,” he joked as he pushed Lip towards Carey raising his voice to try and get the deaf girl’s attention, “Carey! CAREY!” Carey finally looked up with a start dropping her wrench and she quickly retrieved it before looking back at JD. “Hey Lip’s all squared away with paperwork so mind helping him out awhile? Show him the ropes, teach him the stuff?” JD called shrugging his shoulders and bobbing his head side to side absently. Carey smiled lightly at JD’s gesturing and nodded before looking at Lip and waving him over. While Lip made his way to her, she looked back at JD.

“He pass the background check?” Lip hoped she was joking and JD grinned all white teeth and dark mirthful eyes as he said,

“Did as well as you.” Carey flipped JD off with a smile while biting her bottom lip, a childish grimace of wry amusement. JD shook his head and moved off to do whatever it was JD did here and Lip looked after him before turning to Carey. She was a little shorter than him and pretty small; he couldn’t tell if it was muscle or just genetic, though. Carey pointed to the bike with her wrench and gave him the year and the model of the bike before explaining, in layman’s terms, what she was doing to it. Lip followed along relatively well while she showed him the parts she was cleaning and what she was cleaning them with and then moved on to show him how some of the parts were removed either for cleaning or replacing. Lip couldn’t help but find Carey rather attractive in those few hours while they talked. She would explain something and if he asked a question that might be considered stupid she never let on. Carey would just answer it to the best of her ability and show him, if she could, what she was talking about. She never laughed at him unless he made a joke and then she’d crack a smile and give him this amused look, her eyes seeming brighter when she smiled- clearer maybe.

“So uh is everyone here an alcoholic?” Lip asked while watch Carey putting some parts back together on the bike. Carey glanced at him and then around the garage to see who all was there. There was Mike who was working on a Harley, tall and rather stocky but not necessarily bulky or big. Lou was working on a roadster and putting on new tires, his beard banded together at the bottom to keep it from getting caught anywhere and his bald head covered with a bandanna. And last but not least there was Paul who was putting wheels on rims for the incoming appointments and making sure they had everything for the few bikes who would be coming in for new tires. His tanned skin was dry and creased with age but he was still a stronger kind of fella if only out of spirit. Paul was by far the oldest mechanic here at the garage but he and JD went way back to the opening of the place so JD liked having him around. Lip looked around too wondering if all these men had struggled with alcohol like he and JD had and how Lip still was. If alcohol was still a problem for JD he did a great job hiding it. The blond looked back at Carey when she sighed softly and shrugged her shoulders up, her lips in a thin pensive line.

“Uh some of em yeah, most of us are all, y’know, ex somethings- exjunkies or alcoholics but I mean,” she tilted her head to one side and then the other thoughtfully, “you gotta have some kinda dependency, y’know? So some of the mechanics like Mike over there and Hank who isn’t in and Donnie? They’re what we call snow angels, they never used or had a problem drinking or with anything really. Pure as a snow angel,” she explained with a soft smile. Lip nodded slowly and looked back at the three other men working in the garage then over to Tia. He jerked his chin in her direction and Carey looked up and over, too.

“What about her? What’s her story?” he asked looking back at Carey hoping she had heard. She seemed to have heard because she dropped her eyes and shrugged lightly with a soft clearing of her throat.

“I don’t know, I mean, I do but um it’s not really- my story to tell, y’know?” she said almost apologetically with a soft frown. Lip nodded in understand and leaned against the bench behind him as he asked Carey what her story was. He jumped when the bench he was leaning on gave a loud screech and jolted back under his weight and he quickly straightened. He had been putting on a little weight since he quit drinking but he didn’t think it was that much. Maybe he was wrong. He’d have to run more. Maybe hit the gym at Kev’s for a bit every so often. Keep in shape. Carey snickered when the bench gave way a bit under the added side weight and quickly turned to hide her amusement but Lip saw it and couldn’t help but smile himself. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he teased daring to lightly elbow the female. Carey grinned wider showing off her slightly big teeth.

“Um I don’t- really have a story it’s more like- a series of unfortunate events,” she explained slowly and Lip nodded but continued to wait for her to explain, instead she turned the question on him making him tense. So this was what it was like to be under the radar. To have all eyes on you. And really the only one looking was Carey and she didn’t seem to be the judgmental type. Those mossy eyes watched him in an absent sort of way. A curious sort of absence where it was somewhat clear she did, in fact, care enough to listen but not so much so that her entire opinion of him hinged on what he said next.

“I uh, well I’ve been drinking since I was ten. Y’know I mean, my parents are kinda shitty rolemodels and thought if their kids drank with them then, hey, family bonding,” Lip admitted looking at his feet while Carey went back to the bike in some semblance of privacy but he wondered if she could really still hear him. He was close enough, he figured, to be heard without the whole garage hearing too. “Anyway, in college it uh got real bad. I mean over the years it became kinda like- this coping mechanism. Had a bad day, drink. Had a really awesome day, party. That sorta thing,” Carey nodded in complete understanding. That was how it always started. Socially then next thing you knew you were all alone near dead from overdoing it and not a soul in the world had even heard you scream.

“How long you been sober?” she asked looking at him at last. Lip pulled a hand over his mouth, dropping his head to look at his work boots while breathing a nervous laugh followed by a deep clearing of his throat. Carey continued to watch him. Tilting her head to try and catch his eye, Lip finally looked her in the eye and he knew he couldn’t ever bullshit her. Not with that look of complete and utter understanding.

“Not long enough,” he admitted before sighing and adding, “Three months, two weeks, four days.” Carey smiled lightly and absently nodded while turning back to the bike.

“Rehab pregnancy,” she said and Lip gave her a curious look.

“What?” he asked with a breathy and uncertain laugh. Carey’s pale cheeks colored just barely but Lip noticed as she shifted her feet and avoided his look.

“Nine months,” she explained, “I uh I call it the rehab baby period, y’know. Cuz pregnancy is nine months. It’s the shittiest period of rehab like pregnancy without the glow it’s just- nine months of morning sickness, cravings, and body aches,” she explained and Lip blinked. He never thought of it like that before. Carey finished up the bike and started wiping the grease and muck off the steel.

“That’s uh actually kinda neat,” he said and Carey shrugged.

“When you’ve been through it three times it’s just- a fuckin pain,” she commented looking at Lip and shrugging a shoulder up while looking around the garage. “Hopefully you don’t have to do it more than once.” Lip didn’t mention his first month in rehab where he hadn’t even tried to stay sober and instead made even more excuses to drink and tried to outsmart his addiction with his own smartass ways. It had been stupid and he didn’t think Carey needed to know how stupid Lip could really be.

#shameless fanfic #lip gallagher fanfic #shameless imagine #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher / oc

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natur-body · 4 years

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13 Ways To Make Your Workouts At Home More Effective

Whether you’ve recently had a baby and want to workout from home, or your gym is still closed due to covid; there are so many awesome ways to have the most effective workout from home. I totally get it, the vibe at home and being at the gym are very different. I personally love being at the gym and seeing other people work on their goals. It’s very motivating. However,

I know everyone is different and has different schedules, so being able to have that option of working out from home is crucial.

I wanted to write this post because I know having a home gym can be very expensive; hence why a lot of us don’t have a ton of equipment. I wanted to show you how you can have the most killer workout from your own home without all the extra stuff.

Here is an awesome post that’s dedicated to spicing up your workouts so you can see better results and switch things up so you don’t get bored. “ Level Up Your Workouts”

1. Negatives Are Your Best Friend

This is the perfect exercise technique that will help you have that “muscle-mind connection.” Us gym rats always talk about that, and in order to make huge changes with your body you need to really focus on the muscle that you’re working on instead of just going through the motion aimlessly.

Negatives is when you take an exercise; say seated shoulder press. You want to go down at a slower tempo keeping that tension in your muscle. Have a tempo of around 3-5 seconds. When you’re bringing that weight down go slow and controlled and then back up again at a normal speed.

You can do negatives with basically anything from push ups, squats, to lateral raises etc.

2. Take Shorter Breaks

There’s something about having shorter breaks; the increase in sweat and heavy breathing that makes you feel like you just had the best workout ever. A lot of people at the gym overdo it with their breaks because they end up on social media. While taking breaks is a good thing; especially if you’re lifting heavy, sometimes we just need to cut them a bit shorter and make the workout a bit harder. Try to keep rest between sets around 40 seconds -1 min.

3. Focus On Unilateral Exercises

Unilateral – Working out one limb at a time Bilateral – Both limbs at once

Working out one one arm, leg, shoulder etc at a time will help you strengthen the weaker muscle and help improve imbalances, making you look and feel symmetrical . This can be challenging, but it’s great to do every once in awhile. We always have a stronger side, so it’s perfect to help the muscles that are a bit weaker.

Split squats, single leg stiff legs, one leg hip thrust, single bent over rows are all great! etc.

4. Expand Your Range Of Motion

We always want our workouts to be the best and effective, so why not increase your range of motion to get the most out of your exercise. Example, instead of doing glute bridges on the floor, try doing hip thrusts on the couch or chair; that way you have way more motion to work with. This will help stimulate more muscle fibres and will help you get you the results you want.

5. Increase Your Reps & Sets

I always like to have at least 4-5 sets regardless if it’s a light or heavy week (my rep ranges do change though).This usually just applies at the gym since you can find all the heavy weights you want, but you can make the lighter weights feel way heavier but increasing your reps. This is hypertrophy training; where you pick a lighter but challenging weight and aim for 15-20 reps (if not more). This will give you a crazy burn, and help you feel the muscle you are working! When it is time for heavy week, I tend to do between 5-8 reps, but let’s be honest, we don’t always have crazy heavy weights at home so focus on the burn and increase that rep range. The goal isn’t to stop when it hurts, but to continue pushing through that burn to grow your muscles.

When you change your rep range, your muscles will grow faster. When you continue to always to do the same reps your muscles will get used to that and we don’t want them to be stagnant!

6. Add Pulsing & Pauses

Adding these into your workouts will increase your time under tension, which will force your body to work harder in a disadvantageous position. Pulsing at the bottom of your squat, pause and hold for a second at the bottom of a squat etc these are really effective and you will feel it the next day.

7. Drop Sets & Supersets

These are great to exhaust your muscles. If you’re looking for something fun and really challenging this is great to try.

Drop sets: Drop sets are essentially a technique where you perform an exercise and then drop (reduce) the weight and continue for more reps.

Example: Lateral raises. 15lb,10lb, 5lb, and 2lb. You muscles will be on fire. The rep range can be to your desire; I like to do between 10-12 then drop the weight then 10-12 again and so forth.

Supersets: This method is when you perform two different exercises back to back and rest after you finished the two sets. Keep the sets and reps for each exercise the same. This technique is a great way to maximize the limited time you have in the gym or at home. It increases intensity, since your sets are longer, therefore you are working your muscles for longer. Woohoo!!#gains

Example: Lateral raises superset with front shoulder raises.

8. Forced Reps

For this technique you will need a spotter. So it depends if you have someone at home who can help you. The spotter gives you the right assistance when it gets tough, by helping you push out more reps with proper form. This is great for trying to break through strength plateaus, even if it’s all in your head.

Example: If you’re banging out seated incline bicep curls and your weaker arm is tired and ready to fail your spotter can come in and help the weaker side to give you that extra bit you need to accomplish more reps.

I know at home this technique might not help too much depending on what kind of workout equipment you have. But it can work if you have weights or a heavy band! This technique can work on different exercises as well like lateral raises, shoulder press, squats etc. It’s just a good reminder that having a workout partner can really come in handy and not to mention add more muscle definition on your body by doing more reps that your body isn’t used to.

9. Variations Are Everything

From underhand grip, overhand grip, leg stance, wide, narrow, there are a ton of different variations to play around with! If you have bands at home you can definitely have fun with hand positions. Heck, even body weight exercises, change up your squat stance. Sumo squats VS narrow squats. With such a tiny difference can make a workout even harder! Just saying!! Always challenge yourself.

10. Partials

A partials is when you only do half an exercise to keep that fire burning on that muscle you’re working. This is great to end your workout for some extra pain It’s great to combine a full range of motion “superset” with a shorter range of motion.

Example: Bicep curl full range of motion then go right into doing a short range of motion for one set. Back to back!

11. Don’t Alternate Your Reps

When you’re working on unilateral movements (one limb at a time) make sure you’re not alternating movements, like one arm to the other. This gives your muscle more time to relax and we don’t want that. Especially when we have limited equipment at home. Do one arm at a time until you’ve completed your rep then switch arms.

I like alternating certain bicep exercises but I know with the lack of things we have at home for workout gear it’s best to focus on one muscle at a time to get that extra burn. We want our home workout to feel like we are somewhat at the gym.

12. Switch Up Your Exercise Order

We all have our routines that we enjoy, however sometimes we just need to be rebels and break them for once. In order to keep things fun and challenging we need to switch up the order we do our exercises. I used to always get into my shoulder day with seated shoulder press, but now I have a whole new warm up routine with light weights, then I’ll do some rear delts because we tend to forget about our rear delts often, so I’ll do that first then get into my heavy compound movements.

We can complain that our weekdays can get boring because it’s basically the same routine everyday. Eat, work, come home, workout, bed. So knowing that things can get stale in our daily life, try to remember that with your workouts too!

13. Change Your Workout Split

Change up your workout split to keep things interesting! I used to do what everyone else was doing which was back/bis/ chest/tris/ leg day etc. Now, I focus on pull, push and leg days. This allows me to train the same muscle groups 2-3 times a week, which is great! I also try to aim for 2-3 leg days a week. Leg days are important to me so I always make sure I train them more.

Changing up your routine in the smallest way possible can make such a huge impact on your overall mood. It will definitely keep things interesting and more importantly fun!

I hope this post helps you! We are all different and some prefer gym workouts, while some prefer at home. There ARE ways to make things challenging and help you grow and lose weight, you just have to consider some or all of these options to help you reach your goals.

Never. Give. Up!

#fitness

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