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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago

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So Long Chapter 3

Word Count: 8k

A/N: I realize these chapters are getting longer each time. So... sorry? I seem to have a hard time keeping things short, and when I’m writing multiple little stories per chapter, things get a little long. Thanks to everyone who has left a like on the first couple chapters! It really makes my day and keeps me motivated to write when I see people enjoying it. I hope everyone enjoys Chapter 3!

Series Masterlist

So if we knew all along Why did it take so long? We’ve known it since we were young So why did it take so long?

Ages 15 and 17 March 18, 1996

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call from down the hall as he stalked towards me. He sounded annoyed. I knew how it looked, Tony casually leaning next to me, arm braced against the lockers. The halls were mostly empty as everyone went home for the day. I knew I had a big smile on my face too, knew the conclusion Dean had undoubtedly come to, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him playing overprotective big brother. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him as he stopped within inches of me.

“What’s up, Dean?” I asked calmly. I didn’t fail to notice the way he angled his body slightly between the two of us.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered. “I thought you were going to meet me and Sam outside.”

“I was. I am.” I corrected myself. “Tony was just telling me about all the horses his family owns and he said I could come over and ride if I want.” I told him, getting excited again. I looked at Tony who looked slightly nervous. He was a fairly attractive, semi popular guy. A sophomore, like me, he was still growing into his long legs and widening shoulders.

“You really think your dad is going to let you go to some guy’s house?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” I answered defensively. “You and Sam go to your friends’ houses all the time.” I noticed Tony wince a little and pushed Dean away, only able to do so because I took him by surprise. He still only backed away a single step.

“That’s because our dad doesn’t care what we do and you know it. Your dad is way more protective,” he countered. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do something as stupid as go to the home of some random boy by yourself.”

“You mean before you let me go,” I retorted. “Well news flash Dean, you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do. And what do you mean ‘stupid’? I want to go ride horses with a friend, not bungee jumping off a cliff above a shallow lake.”

“You’ve never ridden a horse before, Jenna! What if something goes wrong? You could fall off and hurt yourself!”

I was surprised he wasn’t backing down. He never used to have these kinds of arguments in public. He’d always been protective, but for the past year he’d been even worse. While deep down I appreciated his concern, right now I was just irritated.

“I have to drop my stuff off and let my dad know what’s going on, but I’ll try to be there by four if that works for you.” I told Tony, ignoring Dean for the moment.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tony said warily. “Whenever works for you. And if you don’t come, I’ll just assume your dad said no.” He told me, eyeing Dean before making a hasty escape. I huffed and turned to punch Dean in the shoulder.

“Really?! Why do you have to do this to me? You know how much I love horses! Why can’t you stop scaring away everyone I make friends with?!” I ranted. Dean just started walking for the door.

“I don’t scare away all of your friends. Only the jerks that are making moves on you. I mean, really Jenna? You think all he wants is to show you a few horses?” He mocked. He held the door open for me and, choosing to ignore his jab, I made a beeline for Sam, who had started walking once he saw us come out. Sighing, he closed the door and jogged a couple steps to catch up to me.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me! Did you think of that? I’m not an idiot, I know he’s hoping for more, but I also know he’ll back off if I tell him to. And even if he didn’t, don’t you think I can handle one teenage boy? My dad doesn’t have me train for nothing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I asked him, exasperated.

I watched as he physically reigned in the automatic response that wanted to shoot past his lips. He worked his jaw back and forth and took a breath as he thought of the best way to say it.

“Guys suck. Ok? And I can say that with absolute certainty seeing as I am one.”

“Dean-” I tried to interject.

“No, let me finish. I just don’t want to see you get involved with some guy who's only going to end up hurting you.”

I waited to make sure he was finished before answering.

“Yeah, but did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t interested?” How could I be? There wasn’t a boy in the world who stood a chance of gaining my attention when the most perfect one was already in my life, completely oblivious to how thoroughly he had ruined the chances of me ever being interested in anyone else. Of course I couldn’t tell him this, so there was no real way to assure him that I was telling the truth. “Zero chance of me being hurt. I promise.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly not sure if he believed me or not. “You could still fall off a horse though. I’m sure that would hurt.”

“Because the risk of falling off a horse is so much greater than getting hurt on a hunt?” I asked pointedly.

“Okay. You’re right,” he sighed after a moment of deciding whether or not to argue. “I’m sorry. You still have to get your dad to agree to it though,” he pointed out. I groaned and squared my shoulders, readying myself for the upcoming argument.

~~~~~

I was practically vibrating with excitement as Dean pulled into the driveway of Tony’s home. It had been one of Dad’s conditions, that Dean drove me. I could see several horses already and knew I’d be on one of them soon.

“Thanks Dean!” I said as I moved to get out of the car.

“Just a second,” he said, putting a hand on my knee to stop me. I paused with my hand on the handle and turned to him. “Just… promise you’ll be careful.” He finally got out. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when he worried. I knew it was only a brotherly concern no matter how much I might wish it was more.

“I will.” I told him with a soft smile. Then I jumped out of the car and headed towards where I saw Tony at the barn.

Ages 14 and 15 October 15, 1994

It was the second day at this school in South Dakota. Dad and John had gotten a call from Bobby about a possible ghost problem a few towns over from Sioux Falls and so here we were. All the moving around never got any easier. Just when I started to really get to know the friend or two that I made, we had to pack up and move on again.

I was eating lunch with three other girls. Kristin and Liz were sitting on one side of the table and Carly was sitting next to me on the other side, the rest of the table empty. I was appreciative of the three girls who had noticed the new girl sitting by herself yesterday and come over to keep me company. This is how it usually went. As a fairly introverted person, any friends I made were the result of the other people approaching me, not the other way around.

“Can you believe the amount of homework Mr. Cohen assigned us today?” Carly was complaining. “I don’t know how I’m going to have time to get it all done!”

“No kidding,” Liz joined in. “Does he not realize that the other teachers are all giving out homework too, not just him?”

“He gave us a week to get it done,” Kristin reminded them. “You can do a little every day. It’s not like it all has to be done tonight.”

“Says the overachiever who’s never missed an assignment or gotten a grade lower than an A her whole life,” Liz teased.

“What do you think Jenna?” Carly asked me. “You said you’ve moved around a lot. Would any of the teachers at your other schools hand out this much homework at once?”

“I mean, it’s definitely a lot to be given at once, but I guess I wouldn’t say it’s too much. Like Kristin said, we do have a week to do it. So, I guess I would consider it a reasonable amount,” I concluded.

Carly and Liz both had little frowns of disagreement on their faces, but they dropped the subject, moving on to the much more exciting – in their minds, anyway – topic of Snow Queen. This new conversation had only just started, Carly asking the other two what they were going to wear when I saw Liz’s eyes widen at something over my shoulders. Then she was leaning in, excitedly whispering.

“The hot new guy you were talking about is here,” she said excitedly to Carly. “Wow, you weren’t exaggerating.”

Carly turned to look at him and I saw Kristin peering around to see who they were talking about too. I didn’t need to look. I knew who it was. I sighed and kept eating. Sure enough, Dean soon walked past my line of sight, heading towards the dwindling lunch line. The girls were chattering about him, but I wasn’t really listening. Until I heard my name.

“Come on Jenna, didn’t you see him? Isn’t he, like, the best looking guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” Carly encouraged me to join in. Of course I agreed with her, but I wasn’t about to announce it out loud.

With a small smile, I said, “Well of course you guys would think so. In a school this small, anyone new is exciting.”

Liz scoffed. “Oh please. It’s not because he’s new. You did see him didn’t you? The guy in the leather jacket?”

“I saw him.”

“And you don’t think he’s attractive? At all?” Carly asked in disbelief.

I looked for him, saw that he was a little over halfway through the line, well out of hearing range, and sighed. I made a split second decision to tell them. Why not? It was rare that I got to talk about Dean this way. I had to keep all my feelings bottled up. It would be so nice to be able to let them out, and who better to talk to about it than a group of virtual strangers who would whole-heartedly understand and agree with me?

“Alright, fine. He’s the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen.” I agreed.

Carly was watching him as he made his way through the rest of the line. “Isn’t he though?” she sighed dreamily.

“It doesn’t really matter though,” I told the girls.

“What do you mean? This school is full of girls he’s never met before. Chances are he’ll be interested in at least of them, so why not think that any of us could be her?” Liz asked, probably thinking she was making a great argument. And maybe it was a great argument. For them. They didn’t have all the information about me though.

“Doesn’t matter for me,” I told them.

“Because you move around a lot?” Kristin asked. “Long distance relationships are a thing you know. And besides, even if he never looks at us twice, there’s nothing wrong with appreciating the view.” She turned again to watch him as she said this.

“Moving isn’t the problem,” I mumbled just as Carly squealed, “I think he’s coming over here!” and Kristin quickly spun around in her seat to face forward again.

I looked up and saw Dean just steps away from our table, as Carly had said.

“Hey, Jenna!” He greeted as he moved around the table to sit beside me.

“Hi, Dean,” I answered, blood rushing to my cheeks as the mouths of the other three girls dropped open in shock.

“Is the food at this school any good?” He asked, eyeing the chicken strips, mashed potatoes, corn, and rice krispie bar they were serving today.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” I told him.

“Great,” he replied, digging in. “So how are you ladies doing?” He asked around a mouthful of food. I elbowed him in the side. “What?” he asked innocently. He knew I hated his awful table manners, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to stop.

“So, uh… you guys know each other?” Kristin asked.

“Umm… surprise?” I said unsurely.

“Is it though?” Dean asked. “I mean in a school this size doesn’t everybody know when there’s a new kid or two?”

“Of course,” Carly answered.

“And nobody noticed that Jenna and I showed up at exactly the same time yesterday?” He continued.

“Well when you put it like that I guess we really should have,” Carly answered. “But no, for some reason we did not realize. I actually didn’t even see you until today.”

“Actually, now that she mentions it, I didn’t see you either. And you definitely weren’t at lunch yesterday. Where were you?” I asked him. I had initially written it off as him having a different lunch period. We often did. But this school only had one lunch period for the entire high school. He should have been there.

“I was running errands for Dad,” he responded easily. I knew that meant he was helping with the hunt in some way. I don’t know why I was just finding out.

“Your dad had you running errands instead of being in school?” I asked him, frustrated. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“Who says I wasn’t in school?” He asked, mock offended, even though he obviously hadn’t been. “Besides, not all of our dads are as insistent on a good education as yours,” he told me. “And when you didn’t see me at lunch it should have been a clue that I was busy,” he joked.

“We rarely ever have lunch at the same time. It wasn’t unusual not to see you,” I countered.

“So,” Liz interjected, looking at me meaningfully, “aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh. Right. Guys this is Dean. Dean this is Kristin, Liz, and Carly,” I said, gesturing to each girl as I named them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with his patented charming grin, the one guaranteed to make girls from all around the world stop breathing while they were caught in the intensity of it.

“How do you two know each other?” Kristin asked, looking back and forth between the two of us. The other two were looking and listening intently too and I noted the curious stares of several other people in the cafeteria. I mentally rolled my eyes, resigned to this new topic that would undoubtedly continue for a while.

This is what always inevitably happened. We moved to a new school. As the new girl, people would find me mildly interesting at best. I was mostly ignored except for a select few people who made an effort to be welcoming. And then people found out that I was somehow involved with “the hot new guy” as he was usually known. Dean would wave at me or talk to me in the hall, someone would see us getting into the same car after school, or in today’s case, he sat with me at lunch. Then I became interesting. People wanted to get to know me in order to get to know him.

“Our dads work together,” Dean answered for me, stealing the rice krispie bar from my tray.

“Hey!” I protested.

“What? You hate these things,” Dean said. He wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, but you could have asked instead of just taking it,” I mumbled petulantly.

“Why do I have to ask to eat something I know you’re not going to eat anyway?”

“Well it would be the polite thing to do,” I told him sternly. He just scoffed and took a bite.

“So you guys move around a lot,” Kristin started, continuing her line of questioning, “and it’s just you two and your dads?”

“And my brother Sam,” Dean replied through another mouthful of food.

“Ok, I know we were more out of the loop than we should have been with you, but I swear there isn’t a third new kid here. There’s no way we would have missed that,” Carly insisted.

“Nah, you wouldn’t have heard about him,” Dean told her. “Sammy’s in middle school.”

“Well thank goodness I haven’t lost it completely,” Carly joked.

“How long have your dads been working together?” Kristin asked.

“What’s it been? Five years now?” Dean mused, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yeah, probably pretty close to that, I’d say,” I said.

I saw Kristin open her mouth to ask another question when the five minute bell rang. We all hurried to dump our trays and get to class.

~~~~~

It was about ten minutes into art class an hour later, and I was trying to find the right mix of colors to blend together for the shade of blue I wanted. We were working on landscapes this week, using oil pastels.

I’ve found that art classes can be quite tedious or a lot of fun, depending on the teacher. I liked this one. She was pretty relaxed, giving everyone the assignment and then letting them do whatever they wanted within the parameters of the project. She was also completely fine with students talking throughout the whole class as long as they were still getting work done.

“So,” Liz started. We sat beside each other and I had been waiting for this. The questions about Dean would start now. Things he liked to do or watch or eat, what kind of girls he was usually interested in, that sort of thing.

“You and Dean seem pretty close.” She worded it as a fact, but her tone trailed off in a questioning way.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” I responded warily. I’d found the correct combination of colors I wanted and started working on the sky.

“And you guys are just friends? Nothing more?” She asked, unconvinced.

“We’re just friends,” I told her, already ready for this conversation to be over with.

“But why?” She wondered out loud as she grabbed a red oil pastel from the box between us. I felt my forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“Why what?

“Why aren’t you guys together?” She explained. “I mean, you’ve known each other for years, you apparently travel around the country together, you practically live together-”

“We don’t live together,” I quickly interjected. There had been a quick conversation in the hall about our living situation when Carly asked if Dean and I lived together. Luckily the five minutes between classes left just enough time to explain the situation without having to be questioned about it too thoroughly. “We’re always in separate motel rooms. It’s more like living in the same apartment building I suppose.”

“I said practically,” Liz quipped. “And that’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I sighed, using a paper towel to blend my sky colors together.

“The point is…” she started, pausing to find the right words. “Well, everything I already said!” She finally settled on. “You said you guys move around a lot. I imagine always being the new kids makes you even closer with the one person you actually know,” she said.

“I have Sam too,” I reminded her.

“You mean Dean’s little brother? The one in middle school?” She snorted. “Yeah, that’s exactly the same thing.”

“It is the same thing,” I insisted. “Our dads aren’t around much so we’re all pretty close.”

Liz looked at me like I was unbelievably stupid.

“I feel like we’re having two separate conversations here. Do you really not get where I’m going with this?” She asked.

“You’re trying to be absolutely sure that we’re not dating and Dean’s single, right? Well I’m telling you that we’re not dating. Can we drop it now?” I asked, irritated.

“No, we can’t drop it,” she countered. “That’s not where I’m going with this at all.” She let out a frustrated breath before continuing. “You said at lunch that he was the most attractive guy you’d ever seen.” She said pointedly.

“No I didn’t,” I denied, grabbing a white oil pastel to add in some clouds. “Carly said that.”

“And you agreed,” Liz said. “Look, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” she continued when she saw my blush. “I’m just trying to understand. I only saw you guys together for a few minutes today and it seemed pretty clear to me that you’re really close. So why aren’t you together?”

“He’s not…” I started to say, cutting myself off. Liz waited patiently for me to sort my thoughts. “He doesn’t see me that way,” I told her.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

I frowned, thinking about all the girls he was always flirting with.

“I’m sure.”

“Well… I think you might be wrong,” she said decisively. And then, before I could object, “Tell me about him.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Anything you want to tell me,” she said. “Isn’t it nice to get to talk about him like a normal teenage girl talking to her friend about the guy she likes? Not as the friend that can give other interested girls tips?”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I shouldn’t have just assumed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m sure you had a reason. So? What’s he like?”

I thought about it. What was Dean like? I spent the rest of the hour-long class telling her about the wonderful guy I spent most of my time with. I started out a little hesitantly, but by the end I was excitedly answering any question she threw my way. She was right. It was almost freeing to have this discussion with her, to put my feelings out into the world instead of keeping them trapped inside. When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I was feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

Ages 16 and 17 December 3, 1996

I groggily opened my eyes, trying to determine what had woken me up and then realized it was the pounding on the adjoining door.

“Jenna?” I heard Sam call. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Are you coming?”

Right. School. Well there’s no way I was going while I was feeling like this. My nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, my whole body ached, and I was so cold I actually wondered if the door had been left open to the winter air all night.

“I’m not coming today,” I said as loudly as I could manage. My head was pounding, and raising my voice would only make it worse.

“What?” Sam asked, opening the door and peeking his head in.

“I’m not going to school today,” I repeated.

“Are you ok?” He asked, brow wrinkling in concern.

“I think I caught that flu that’s been going around,” I told him miserably.

“That sucks,” he said sympathetically. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Sam.” He left the room and I curled up in a ball under the covers, trying to warm up.

I thought that would be the end of it, but about a minute later Dean was walking into the room.

“Sam says you’re sick,” he said, clearly already in full caretaker mode.

“Go to school Dean. I can manage by myself for a few hours,” I told him as firmly as I could.

“I don’t mind staying here for a day to take care of you,” he told me, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.

“I know you don’t, but you really don’t need to. Besides, you have to take Sam anyway, so you might as well just stay there,” I said, trying to reason with him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded in agreement anyway.

“If you’re sure. Do you want me to at least call your dad?” He asked. We’d been here for about a month and a half so far. John and Dad had been able to continually find hunts close by, so instead of moving to a new school again, we were staying put. They were currently a few towns away and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. “I really don’t like leaving you alone.”

“No, don’t. If you call him he’s going to think it’s worse than it is and he’ll either be distracted during the hunt or he’ll come back here, which really isn’t necessary.”

Dean stood up and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

“Promise you’ll call me if you need anything,” he insisted, patting his pocket where he kept the cell phone his dad had left us for emergencies.

“I promise.”

~~~~~

When the boys got home from school that afternoon, they immediately came to my room.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as he and Sam walked over to me. I was nestled into the couch, doing my best to stay warm under a throw blanket, some movie I wasn’t paying attention to playing on TV.

“Cold,” I replied. I had already put on a second pair of socks that morning in my attempt to warm up and when that hadn’t helped I’d gone into the boys’ room and stolen one of Dean’s oversized sweatshirts. That plus my pair of sweatpants and the blanket and I still felt like my teeth could start chattering any second.

“Here,” Sam said as he grabbed the comforter off of my bed and placed it on top of me.

“Did you eat anything today?” Dean asked.

“Not hungry,” I told him.

“You can’t just not eat,” Sam said as he walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll make you a piece of toast.”

“Have you had anything to drink today,” Dean asked, continuing his evaluation. I sheepishly shook my head.

“Jenna,” he sighed. “If you want me to leave you here alone when you’re sick, you have to do a better job of taking care of yourself. Sam, get her a big glass of water too,” he instructed.

He gently placed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking for a fever.

“And some Ibuprofen,” he added. “So you’re cold and not hungry. Any other symptoms?” He asked me.

“My nose is stuffed,” I told him.

“I can tell,” he said with a small smile.

“And everything hurts,” I admitted.

“Well the Ibuprofen should help with that at least,” he said as Sam came back over

“Here you go,” he said as he handed everything over. I sat up to take everything from him.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Dean smiled as the blanket fell off my shoulders.

“I told you, I’m cold,” I defended, taking a small nibble of my toast.

“I’m not mad,” he assured me. “I think it’s cute.” I blushed. “I want that whole glass of water gone in the next 15 minutes,” he told me sternly. “And then I’m getting you another one that better be gone by supper.”

I managed to eat the whole piece of toast and finished the glass of water as instructed. I curled back under the blanket while Dean left to refill my water. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, books spread out before him.

“Are you warming up yet?” Dean asked when he returned with more water.

When I shook my head in answer, he sat beside me, settling himself under the blankets and as close to my side as he could.

“Dean, I don’t want to get you sick,” I protested.

“If I’m gonna get sick, I’m gonna get sick. I’m already surrounded by your germs, I don’t see this making much difference,” he told me.

Sighing, I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. It took about 10 minutes for me to finally start warming up for the first time that day.

~~~~~

The next day was much the same. The boys had slept in my room last night, despite my protests that I would be fine on my own. Dean slept in my dad’s unused bed and Sam slept in mine, bringing in the comforter from his own bed. I stayed on the couch. I had tossed and turned all night and was exhausted.

Dean asked if I wanted him to stay home from school to take care of me. I told him not to. This time he brought me a large glass of water before leaving and told me I’d better keep myself hydrated today.

I took a bath around 1, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching muscles and warm me up. After soaking for about 20 minutes, the heat finally seemed to seep into my body and ease the chill I couldn’t escape.

I was feeling a little better when I got out an hour later, the warmth being a much needed boost to my mental state, but I still ached all over. After getting redressed in my warm clothes, I took a couple of Ibuprofen and tried to sleep before the chills came back.

The rumble of the Impala’s engine is what caused me to give up on my fitful attempt at a nap. I was shivering under the blankets and hadn’t managed more than 20 minutes of sleep.

The boys came in and fussed over me. They were both pleased to hear I’d drank some water today, but I still hadn’t eaten anything. Sam made me another piece of toast and grabbed a container of yogurt for me to eat too.

Dean curled up with me under the blankets again and I sighed, grateful for his warmth. His body heat radiated off of him directly into my side where we were pressed together and the blanket kept the heat trapped.

If I hadn’t been feeling so terrible I might have shied away from this level of closeness. We were very comfortable with physical contact, but this was more than the casual touches I was used to. The closest we had ever come to cuddling in the past was Dean’s arm slung across the back of the couch behind my head when we watched movies. And he wasn’t actually touching me when he did that.

The realization of how close we were was something I wouldn’t process until later when I was feeling better, but for now I just appreciated the comfort he so easily provided me.

~~~~~

“Where’s Dean?” I asked on the third day, spotting Sam sitting at the table reading a book.

Dean had skipped school today. No matter how much I protested, even when I told him I was feeling a little better, he told me he refused to leave me by myself again. He dropped Sam off and came straight back to the motel. He’d kept me company all day and made sure I drank plenty of water. I was even starting to get my appetite back a little bit. I’d managed to eat half a peanut butter sandwich and a few crackers.

I’d fallen asleep shortly before he left to pick Sam up. I halfway sat up in the spot on the couch that had become my semi-permanent residence – a place I left only when my bladder made it absolutely necessary – and looked around the room.

“He went to the store,” Sam told me. “He should be back any minute. Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

"If you wanted to put some poison in my water or something I wouldn't complain," I told him. This might be a bit dramatic, but honestly, if this was going to be the state of my life from now on, then life really wasn't worth living.

“Can’t help you there. I just used the last of my poison last week on my friend Ethan. He had the flu too,” he told me seriously. “Besides,” he continued, switching to a teasing tone, “I don’t have a death wish. Can you imagine what Dean would do to me if he came back and found you dead?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Sam. I guess you need to do a better job of covering your tracks,” I told him. He smiled.

“Seriously though, how are you doing?” He asked again.

I sighed and sat up the rest of the way, noticing the comforter was back on me. I’d started taking it off when Dean was sitting with me, partly so he wasn’t quite so overheated and partly because the throw blanket was enough when combined with his furnace-like body temperature. He must have covered me back up when he left to get Sam.

“I’m doing better,” I told him. “I still can’t seem to keep myself warm, but the migraine and muscle aches are a lot better. My appetite is starting to come back too.”

“Yeah, Dean said you actually ate something today. That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.

“Hopefully,” I agreed as we heard the Impala pull up.

A minute later Dean came in the door, hands full with grocery bags, immediately looking towards the couch.

“Hey, you’re up!” he said cheerfully. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I told him, looking at the clock and realizing I’d slept soundly for about an hour and half.

“I’m glad to hear it. You definitely need to catch up on your sleep,” he said as he unpacked the groceries. “I hope you’re still hungry. I got stuff to make chicken noodle soup,” he told me.

That did actually sound really good. I told him as much.

“Good. I’ll get it started,” he said, grabbing a big pot from the cupboard above the stove. “I got some more Ibuprofen too if you need some,” he told me offhandedly. “I noticed we were about out.”

“I’m good. Thanks, though,” I said, not for the first time grateful for his thoughtfulness and attention to detail when it came to taking care of people.

“Do you want some help?” Sam offered his brother, already getting up from the table.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Jenna wouldn’t mind you sitting with her and keeping her warm until I’m done though,” Dean said, looking at me for confirmation.

“Actually, I was just thinking about taking a shower,” I told them as I tossed the blankets onto the couch beside me. I hadn’t showered in three days and I was starting to feel really gross.

“Aww, you hear that Sammy? She doesn’t want to sit with you,” Dean teased.

“You know that’s not it,” I told Sam as I looked to make sure he wasn’t offended.

“I know,” he assured me, waving off his brother’s joke.

I was already getting cold without the blankets, so I hurried off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to his book and Dean to his soup preparation. Closing the door behind me, I immediately turned the water on, setting it to a nice warm temperature, before undressing and stepping in. I let out a content sigh as the hot water hit me.

As I was working on combing the tangles out of my hair, I realized that in my rush to get in the shower, I hadn’t brought any clean clothes with me. Crap. Now what? I considered my options.

I could put on the clothes I’d been wearing for the last three days. I quickly discarded that idea. Though I’d been cold, I’d still been sweating. I wasn’t putting those clothes back on. It would completely defeat the purpose of showering.

I could walk out into the room in my towel to grab my duffel bag. I didn’t like that option much more than the first. While I would be completely covered, something about them seeing me in nothing but a towel, Dean especially, felt extremely… intimate. It wasn’t something I was comfortable with.

I heard a muffled conversation through the bathroom door as I tried to figure out a third option. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could hear them talking. I could hear Sam saying something in an exasperated voice when it occurred to me.

“Sam?” I called as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair.

“Yeah?” he called back, sounding like he was standing just outside the door.

“I forgot to grab my bag. Could you get it for me?” I asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” he told me before his footsteps retreated. I heard more muffled conversation, a door opening and then closing a few seconds later, and finally a knock on the door.

“Here you go,” Sam said as he opened the door and I heard the thump of my bag being set down.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem,” he repeated. The door closed. I stayed in the shower for a few more minutes, appreciating the hot water, before steeling myself to get out into the cold.

I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel, and started drying my hair. Once it was no longer dripping, I moved to my duffel bag to find some clothes. I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at the sweatshirt that was laying on top of it. Another one of Dean’s.

Once I was dressed, I spent a few minutes blow drying my hair. I normally didn’t bother, but I didn’t need water dripping down my back for the next hour when I was already cold. I stepped out of the bathroom and saw that the brothers had been busy.

Dean had finished putting the soup together and it was currently sitting on the stove to cook. The blankets I had been using for the past three days were in the corner designated for dirty laundry, and new ones – presumably out of the boys’ currently unused room – were waiting for me on the couch.

Sam and Dean were sitting on either end of the couch, The Untouchables on the TV screen, paused at the beginning. It was one of four movies we had, so we’d seen it a lot, but it was one of Dean’s favorites. Sam and I weren’t tired of it yet either.

Dean patted the spot next to him, and I sat down, curling into his side as he wrapped a blanket around me.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Much,” I sighed. “It feels so good to be clean. Thanks for the sweatshirt,” I added as an afterthought.

“You’re welcome,” Sam and Dean responded at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“It’s my sweatshirt,” Dean told Sam.

“Yeah, but I’m the one who grabbed it for her,” Sam argued.

“Because I told you to,” Dean countered.

“This is a ridiculous argument,” I said, lightly hitting Dean’s chest and nudging Sam with my foot. “I was thanking both of you anyway, so can we just watch the movie?” Sam scowled, but agreed and pressed play.

~~~~~

We were about three quarters of the way through the movie, soup eaten and bowls dumped in the sink, when there was a knock at the door.

We all looked at each other, confused and a little on edge. Dean’s arm tensed around me and Sam started walking to the bed, going for the knife Dean hid under his pillow.

“Jenna?” The person outside called.

I immediately relaxed. It was just Bailey.

“Let her in,” I told Sam who had paused a foot from the bed. He obeyed, looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Bailey was standing there, as expected, as well as Dylan. The three of us had become pretty close in my time here. I always had friends wherever we went, but I didn’t usually connect with people the way I had with them. They were definitely the best friends I’d made at any school, and we spent a lot of time together outside of class.

“Hey guys,” I greeted as they made their way into the room, stopping a few feet away from the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“Well you haven’t been in school for three days, so we wanted to check on you,” Dylan explained.

“Yeah. I mean at first we just assumed you were sick. But after three days we started to worry,” Bailey added.

“Three days isn’t an unusual amount of time to be sick,” I pointed out.

“No, but then Dean was gone today too,” Bailey said, a smug little glint in her eye as she looked at me. “So we wondered if maybe you guys had left town.”

“Nope. Still here,” I said unnecessarily.

“Good,” Dylan said, slinging a bag off his shoulders and moving to sit in the armchair. “Because we brought homework.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Dean said, standing up and throwing the second blanket over me before making his way to his own room. “Come on Sam,” he called over his shoulder. Sam sighed, but followed Dean out.

“Thanks,” I told them, genuinely thankful they’d thought to get my homework for me, but also not looking forward to having to do it. Bailey grabbed a chair from the table and set it next to the couch.

“So,” Dylan said casually as he took everything out of his bag. “Anything you want to tell us?” He asked teasingly.

“Um… no?” I said, confused.

“Are you sure?” Bailey continued for him. “No new developments you want to share?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I quickly scanned the room, looking for anything that might stand out to them. Not seeing anything, I just slowly shook my head.

“No, nothing. Why? Is there something new with you guys?” I asked, thinking maybe this was their way of segueing into giving me some type of exciting news. They just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re just stubbornly ignoring it, or genuinely oblivious to what we’re saying,” Dylan told me.

“And if that’s the case, it really makes me question if you’ve been telling us the truth,” Bailey said.

“The truth about what?” I asked, starting to get frustrated.

“You and Dean looked awfully cozy,” Bailey stated, not beating around the bush anymore.

I blushed. Oh, right. That. I thought.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I told them, not wanting them to make too many assumptions. They knew very well how I felt about Dean.

“Well how about you let me tell you what it looks like, and then you can tell me if it’s right or not?” Bailey said. She didn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “It looks like you’ve been sick for a few days. When Dean didn’t show up to school today, it looked like he might have gotten sick too, if you guys hadn’t just up and left. Now that we’ve seen him, I think we’re in agreement that he’s not sick?” Bailey looked to Dylan for confirmation.

“He didn’t look sick,” Dylan agreed.

“So, it looks like Dean stayed here to take care of you. Now the way the two of you were cuddled up together,” she mused, smirking at me. “That looked like two people who were very comfortable with each other. In a more than friends way. Which looks like either you haven’t been entirely truthful about the status of your relationship with him or there have been new developments. Am I missing anything?” She asked Dylan.

“No, that about covers it I think,” Dylan said.

“I know exactly how it looks,” I started.

“Of course you do because we just told you,” Dylan cut in. “So which is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Were you not telling us the truth before about you two – which I don’t find likely, by the way – or has something new happened?” He asked. I could tell they were both excited for me. They had spent plenty of time talking with me about Dean, and they knew how crazy I was about him.

“Neither,” I told them, seeing immediately that they were unconvinced. “Seriously,” I insisted. “Dean is a total mother hen, especially when one of us gets sick,” I explained. “If you don’t believe me, there’s a pot of homemade soup in the fridge. Dean never cooks. None of the guys do.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were practically in his lap,” Bailey fired back.

“Okay, first of all, that’s a huge exaggeration,” I said. Bailey snorted. “It is! We were sitting next to each other, that’s not ‘in his lap.’ Dylan, back me up here!” I pleaded.

“Well…” he looked between us, considering his answer carefully. “I do think that was a bit of an exaggeration,” he said.

“Ha!” I shot at Bailey.

“But,” he continued, “you were pretty snuggled up with him. More than you realize, I think.”

“Ha!” Bailey shot back.

“Whatever,” I conceded. “It’s still not what you think. I’ve just been really cold. As you might notice,” I pointedly waved the corner of the blanket. “He’s just been sitting with me to help me stay warm.”

“You still looked awfully comfortable with each other,” Bailey said, not ready to entirely give up.

“Because we are,” I said exasperatedly. “I told you about how we constantly travel and our dads aren’t around much. The three of us are pretty much all we have. People in that sort of situation tend to be pretty close.”

“I guess,” Bailey sighed.

“So do you guys cuddle like that a lot?” Dylan asked, moving on, but not entirely changing the subject. I blushed again.

“No,” I told him without elaborating.

“Honestly?” he pressed. “You know you can tell us. We won’t judge. Plus, I’d say that would be a good sign-”

“Really. This is the first time we’ve ever… cuddled.” I told him, not wanting to hear another speech listing all the reasons the two of them were certain Dean liked me back. Despite their intentions, it really wasn’t helpful. It could really only mean one of two things.

One, they were reading into things. They were wrong and he didn’t like me back. Or two, they were right. He did like me. But it didn’t matter because he clearly had no intentions of doing anything about it. I didn’t know which was worse.

“So,” Bailey cut in, breaking the growing tension. “Tell us all about mother hen Dean.”

I smiled and told them about how I’d spent the last few days. They updated me on the goings on at school and then gave me a quick rundown of the homework, telling me to let them know if I got stuck on anything. I thanked them and we said our goodbyes.

Either through eavesdropping – I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case – or, the more likely option, watching out the window, Sam and Dean knew when my friends left and immediately came back into the room.

“You want to finish the movie?” Dean asked as he moved a pile of papers onto the coffee table. Sam settled himself back on his end of the couch and Dean pulled me back into his side.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said, resting my head on his chest. I was much more aware of our position after Bailey and Dylan’s visit, but I decided to enjoy the closeness while it lasted.

When the movie was over, Sam went to the kitchen to grab some snacks while Dean flipped through the channels on TV. Sam came back with beef jerky, Doritos, microwavable popcorn and a bottle of water for me. I wasn’t hungry, but accepted the water.

Dean stopped on a channel playing some old western movie. As he settled his arm around me, I decided that I would happily spend every night like this.

Chapter 4

#supernatural #spn #fanfic #soulmates #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x soulmate!ofc #supernatural fanfiction #soulmate!au #so long

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just-a-smut-slut · 1 year ago

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Crestellys And Bixim

Chapter Three

Ara had a fitful sleep that night. When she awoke, her blankets and pillows her on the floor. There was even pillow stuffing where she had torn apart a pillow in her sleep. She looked out the window to the dawning of a new era of her life. Everything would be different now. As a single princess, she was given freedom, but as an engaged female, she was bound to her betrothed. They may as well be married for all the freedom it will allow her.

A knock sounded on the door and her maid opened the door, carrying a tray of morning tea and biscuits. She looked at the mess in the room and sighed, setting the tea down at the bedside table and moving to pick everything up.

“Sorry, Una. It was nightmares again,” Ara said in explanation. Her maid, Una, smiled at her and continued her work.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. It isn’t a problem. Just you eat and get ready for the day. Prince Taulgri is taking you riding this morning,” Una said as if that wasn’t as good as splashing cold water on Ara.

I guess it was a good thing that I didn’t sleep with Killian afterall, she thought. Una picked out a set of new riding clothes for her to wear to impress the prince. Ara didn’t think that a pair of snug, leather pants, boots, and a flowy, white blouse would necessarily appeal to a prince like Taulgri, but she didn’t argue. Una then set her golden hair into a loose bun and pinned a small, gold tiara into her hair. She looked comfortable but still elegant and very royal.

Ara walked to the stable, trailed by a guard that wasn’t Killian. The stables were on the outside of the inner castle walls, still surrounded by the outer wall. As she passed through the courtyard, she was met with congratulations to passing nobles or servants. Ara met every one of them with a smile and thanks. After years of palace life, she could act as well as any actress.

The stables smelled of their usual straw, barley, and manure. Ara loved the scent. She walked to her horse’s stall. Years ago, a warhorse had been injured. The military was going to put him down, but she wouldn’t let them. She nurtured him back to health and he had been loyal to her alone ever since.

Hesperos was a large, dapple gray stallion. He had been ridden into battle many times by some of her father’s best warriors. He whinnied as he saw the princess and walked to his stall door, tossing his head, expecting a treat. Ara took a couple sugar cubes from her pocket and let him nibble at them in her hand. She brushed her other hand against his head and mumbled to him lovingly.

She didn’t notice Prince Taulgri approaching her until he said, “Lovely day for a ride, I thought.”

Ara jumped a bit and Hesperos let out a huff of frustration.

“Prince Taulgri,” she inclined her head. He did the same. “Princess Ara.”

“Who’s this?” The prince gestured to the stallion. Ara noticed Hesperos standing a bit straighter, looking at the prince as if sizing him up.

“This is Hesperos,” she said with a smile and scratched his nose.

“He’s as big as a warhorse,” Prince Taulgri commented.

Ara smirked and said, “He is a warhorse, or a retired one anyway.”

Prince Taulgri’s eyebrows raised, obviously impressed. “He must have really taken to you. Our warhorses usually aren’t so… docile.”

“Hesperos is special, Prince Taulgri,” Ara shrugged.

“Would you mind if we simply addressed each other by our first names when no one else is around? It would make the rest of our lives a bit less tedious.” Ara couldn’t tell if he was joking or not when speaking about the future tedium of their lives.

“Of course. Whatever you wish,” Ara glanced at him up and down. He was wearing riding pants, a loose fitting shirt, and simple boots. He didn’t even wear a crown. He looked so… casual. She had expected him to be dressed in the ravelry of his station when taking her on their first ride together.

“Did my uniform disappoint you, Ara?” A smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

“Of course not!” She answered too quickly. The prince seemed to expect her response and quipped, “Ah, so you find my form pleasing?”

Ara scowled with displeasure. “Don’t be crass, Prince Taulgri.”

“Only joking, Princess Ara,” he smiled a little too playfully. Ara wondered if he had used that smile and that line on other girls. If they had been tricked into his casual demeanor. She would not be so easily fooled.

“Where are you planning on riding?” She asked.

Prince Taulgri shrugged, “I thought you could show me around, actually. Help me get acquainted with the countryside. Especially since this land is to be my home.”

Ara nodded and opened the stall door to let Hesperos out. The stallion walked himself down to the tacking station, not needing instruction from his rider. A servant brought an already saddled bay mare to Prince Taulgri. The prince brushed his hand against the horse’s soft fur and spoke to her as Ara saddled Hesperos. Her horse seemed to eye the other rider warily, which was enough of a warning signal for Ara. She knew to keep her guard around him.

The two of them rode side by side down a lane through the forest behind the castle. The surrounding countryside was worked by the castle staff, so there was no fear of bandits roaming the area. It was quite safe for the couple, however two guards rode their own horses far behind them, giving them privacy.

“What do you wish to speak about?” Ara asked, trying to end the silence that surrounded them.

The prince shrugged, “What do you wish to speak about?”

Ara rolled her eyes. She hated when people turned her questions back onto her. They usually did so in order to gauge where her head was at so that they could say what would most please her.

“You’re the guest. You decide,” she stated.

“Hmm,” the prince thought for a moment. “Well, I suppose we could talk about our future wedding. I’m sure we will both be knees deep in planning soon.”

Ara couldn’t think of something that she wanted to talk about less than that. “I honestly don’t care. You may choose whatever you like for the ceremony, or we will have a planner make all of the arrangements.”

The prince laughed, “I’d expected you’d say as much.”

Ara turned on him, “Did you now? Well, since you know me so well, maybe you can read my mind to find the phrase that I’m directing to you.”

Prince Taulgri had the gall to laugh again, “You’re just as they said.”

This made Ara even angrier, “Am I? And, what pray tell have they said about me?”

“You hate formality. You’re rude but an excellent liar. And, of course, that you’re the most beautiful fae female in existence,” he said this last part as if it were a joke she was in on.

Ara glowered. “You don’t want to know what I’ve heard about you.” She said flatly.

“I’m sure I can imagine,” Prince Taulgri said with a wave of his hand.

Ara wanted to shake him. To make him feel as uncomfortable as she did, so she went on. “Tell me. How many of your lovers exactly have you brutalized and when can I expect the same such treatment?”

Taulgri stopped his horse, surprising Ara. She pulled Hesperos to a halt and turned in her saddle to face him. “Hear me now, Ara. I will never raise a hand to you.”

“You don’t have to touch someone to destroy them,” Ara replied and nudged Hesperos to continue walking.

Prince Taulgri kept his horse a short distance behind her, not continuing their conversation. When they arrived back at the stable, the prince said his goodbyes and they parted ways. Ara wondered if she had pushed him a little too far. She had wanted him to know that she was aware of his history. That she wouldn’t stand for any poor treatment. He wouldn’t dare raise a hand to her, but he may dare to abuse her in other ways.

#faecore #fae #fae fanfic #fanfic blog #fantasy romance #fantasy #romantic #romance

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brokenonyxestate · 1 year ago

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SHE HAS RETURNED

A few years ago we sold a young mare named BOE Martinique to Helena Saint Clair. She has been downsizing, so we have been able to buy her back, which we did happily.

With our own horses we often buy them back without even seeing the horse first, but Helena was so kind to provide us with a video of how far the mare had come, so we see that the mare still had the quality we wanted to have at our stable.

So the other day she was transported back to Denmark to BOE's new facilities by Fuglebjerg, Sjaelland. It was wonderful to get her back, and she seemed to remember our oldest mare Tetra, as she said hello to her over the fence by accident, when my daughter was a little to distracted when leading her to the jumping arena.

Calypso is a pretty experienced rider by now - though still young -, but when I told her that she would be riding Martinique today she was surprised to say the least. But daughters of mine has no fear, and she just got onto the horse, after saying propperly hello to her.

After she had warmed up the mare, I told her to choose an obstacle and jump it. She of course chose a pretty high jump, but she had seen the videos from Helena with me, so she knew what the mare was capable of.

I watched her closely as she cantered pretty controlled towards the obstacle. I tried to not make her nervous by looking at her, but looked at the horse instead. After all, the horse was what I was interested to see jump, not Calypso.

"Hold onto the reins! Don't let go!" I yelled to her, as the mare bucked pretty violently after a lower obstacle.

"I'm trying!" Calypso replied in a yelp, as she held onto the reins for dear life, trying to not pull the mare in the mouth, as she bucked and bucked.

"Talk to her to calm her down!" I then yelled. Apparently our horses are too well-mannered, since Calypso had such a hard time calming the mares. This just showed that I needed to challenge Calypso more with the horses she was riding.

Finally she seemed to have calmed down the mare, who trotted very energetically forward around the arena. I could finally look at the equipage again without laughing - because yes it looked funny, but it was serious still. Martinique is a big horse, and could injure Calypso seriously.

"Are you okay?" I asked my daughter, getting a little close to the horse.

"I'm good," she almost panted. Apparently she had gotten the wind knocked out of her when the mare jumped and bucked like a rodeo horse.

"Do you know what spooked her?" I smiled at her, and patted her leg softly, when she moved past me in a slower walk.

"She probably just had some excess energy after not being ridden for a couple of days," my daughter said smartly, and stuck out her tongue at me.

"Cheeky!" I yelled at her, sticking out my own tongue, even if her back was turned towards me, as she rode the mare away from me to calm her down from the ride.

When she had finished cooling down the mare, she came to the gate and I let her out. Then I saw my oldest son Will.

"Will!" I called out, and waved at him.

"Yeah, Ma?" he replied and walked over to us.

"Can you take a picture of Calypso and Martinique?" I asked him as he got over to us.

"Sure!" he replied kindly, and I patted his arm to then get ready to give Calypso and the mare space, "No stay. You are so rarely in any of the pictures, Ma."

"Okay then," I agreed willingly, and stepped up beside the mare, touching her neck.

Just when William was about to take the picture I leaned in a little and whispered to Calypso:

"You will be in charge of Martinique's training from now on."

Calypso didn't say anything, she just looked at me in disbelief and wonder. That just made me laugh. She was in for one hell of a challenge with this mare - that much was for sure!

#BOE Martinique #Hera Cole #Calypso Cole #William Flockhart #BOE #black onyx equestrian #bridlepath #equality sims #the sims #the sims 3 #the sims 3 pets #sims 3 horses #show jumping

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thebarefootcajun · 2 years ago

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Horse Whisperers, Bertheaud and Chanceuse

We were corralling horses the day we met. Bertheaud, pronounced burth-owed, was a horseman. He’d grown up on a horse farm that had been in his family for quite a number of years. Those boys were put on a horse right out of the womb everyone said. Some even said Bertheaud’s Mom had mounted a horse when Bertheaud refused to be birthed, and he was born right there at that moment on a horse name Venir Vite, come quickly.

I worked for that horse family whose last name was Cheval while in high school and continued after graduation. BTW, my name is Chanceuse, pronounced Shawn-suz, meaning Lucky. Not sure the origin of my name, but I’ve always been lucky in getting jobs. This job is the best I’ve ever had, working with horses is in my blood.

Bertheaud and I have over the years become friends. At times we are inseparable. We come from different worlds. Bertheaud and his family have money. I come from a share cropper family. We barely scrape by. I was so happy to relieve my parents of caring for me even before graduating high school with the money I earned working with Bertheaud’s family.

One afternoon Bertheaud suggested we head to the bayou with a couple of troubled horses. These two guys needed some much needed time with us and each other. We rode them easy for the first ten minutes and then ran them to get the boogers out of them so to speak. Tying them up next to a fresh water lake we allowed them respite with each other, delicious water and lots of yummy edible grasses.

We decided to skip the bayou; it was a hot, humid afternoon; not only were the horses feeling fatigued but so were we. Bertheaud said he’d go for a swim. I watched as he stripped, and was quite shaken with the beauty of his maleness. Stirred in my groin might be a better way to put it. Feeling not quite sure how to handle this newfound feeling I shouted out to Bertheaud, “Je vais me promener autour du lac.” I am going to take a walk around the lake.

Bertheaud hollered back, “D’accord, c’est bon.” Okay, that’s good.

Bertheaud swam laps across the diameter of the lake. I could tell that he was a strong swimmer. Bayous, traditionally, not deep were mostly my experience with water. I’d really never learned to swim. I was a bit ashamed of that. Lac D’eau Douce named so because of its beautiful fresh water, a haven for prairie animals and humans. I finished one lap around the lake and I found Bertheaud sitting on the edge of the lake with his feet in the water. Possibly, sunning himself or drying off. That uncomfortable feeling happened again as I noticed his beautiful

Maleness. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Therefore I looked away mostly as Bertheaud chatted about Lily and Florence the two mares we had ridden to the bayou by way of Lac D’eau Douce.

Bertheaud got up and dressed in a matter of fact way like it was usual for him to parade around naked. We walked back to where the horses were, mounted and rode off to the horse pasture. We led the horses to a smaller corral where they could acclimate to being closed up again. Lily and Florence had become two of my favorite horses ever. I liked spending time with them alone after working them. We seemed to understand that we were all outliers. Different from the mainstream of horses and men. It was good to have them as friends. They listened and understood the trials of life. Understood that we weren’t what people thought we should be; we could relate to each other in being rough around the edges.

Leaving Lily and Florence in the corral I headed back to the main barn that serves as an office for workers as a place for meetings and work assignments. I was still a bit rattled about seeing Bertheaud naked. With no one to share this new experience I was on my own to navigate a new path in my life. I knew my friendship with Bertheaud was special, but now it was making even more sense; I was attracted to him sexually. As I young adult I’d never really explored that part of me before now. And I didn’t have a lot to draw from either being a prairie boy isolated from much of the larger world.

Not suggesting that prairie boys are limited in their understanding of these things; I’m just one who

is; naive and confused. Now I’ve added another dimension to my friendship with Bertheaud that somehow needs to come out to him. But how? I fear it’ll change our friendship. His friendship is one of the most important one in my life.

Readers: any suggestions how to continue?

#gay prose #horse whisperers #short story #Cajun prairie

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jacks-tracks · 2 years ago

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aguas termales

Hot springs at manialtepec, a day hike.

The manialtepec river flows out of a very long steep sided valley, a smooth series of oxbows. The trail is a dirt(dust) cow path through native scrub and barb wired dry pastures. 5 miles up is a hot spring which the town has piped into cement tanks. Probable rise in elevation is 200 feet, so an easy walk.

I went with my friend Gordon Smith, who at 85 is in much better shape than me.He's an ardent cyclist, retired ski instructor, life long batchelor, native of West Vancouver, now a summer resident of SunValley Idaho who winters in Mexico with his Mexican girlfriend Maru. She's in Mexico city for biz, so this was a good opportunity for we two to go hiking.

From Puerto Escondido there are collectivo taxis direct to Manialtepec, but seeing none at the crucero we hopped in a van going up the highway whose driver promised we could get from the highway to the town easily. For 35 pesos we rolled through the farmland at the base of the foothills, the road being raised above the lowlands along the lagunas. Dry season, the hills are crispy grey, trees are leafless, pastures bone dry. The crucero turnoff was deserted and I fretted that any collectivo from Puerto would already be full, but a tuk tuk came south and squeezed us in with the fat mexican guy in the back. 15 pesos and 20 minutes later we were in Manialtepec, and after some confusion(surely we w anted to rent horses!?) and a bit of texting while driving the nice woman dropped us off right at the trailhead/river bank. There a town employee charged us 50 pesos each, which i thought included the hot springs. A pictuaresque Burro loaded with firewood came across the shallow river showing us the ford.

It's a long walk upstream with 6 crossings ranging from knee to crotch deep, on a sand or gravel bottom, slow current, cool water. We shuffled along, yapping all the way, seeing Mexican jays and a huge multi trunked tree river side. Also saw brush tossed 10 feet high up into the trees by the seasonal floods. The papaya plantation of 10 years ago is totally gone, but 4 miles up some enterprising locals have built a set of A frame thatched cabanas for overnight renters(1000 pesos night with cheap local food) . Everything comes in on horse back, and a campesino stopped to chat with bucket of groceries slung on the saddle horn, a pinata tied on the off side and his daughter riding behind. Gordon and I made OK time for a couple of old frts, shuffling carefully across the stream. While the brush is dry, the trees were fooled by the rain last week and were blooming, so at times we were walking on a carpet of purple trumpet shaped flowers. The further we went, the steeper the valley sides and narrower. A cowboy passed us, friendly greetings. This is the real backwoods Mexico. Even the town is still one story buildings, dirt streets, sleeping dogs and horses parked like cars at the gates. up in the roadless valley, it's timeless.

We crossed the last oxbow, and a tiny hot creek outflowing from the springs. Up the hillside to the site, where another campesino informed us that we had to pay an additional 100 pesos each to use the pools. Ha,We objected, had a receipt from ticket master #1, but no, that is just the trail fee! Finally bargained to 50 each for 20 minutes.(He could see we were maybe not going to pay, and the money goes unrecorded into his pocket.) Happy hikers, we slipped into the tanks, sort of cement hot tubs, some 10 foot by 10 or the bigger new ones 10 by 20, all only 3 feet deep. i went into the first one closest to the sulpher smelling hot spring outlet. Hot, almost too hot! I poached for a few moments and moved to the lower tank, a bit cooler. Gordon made it to the biggest pool, and we waved and grinned back and forth. 20 minutes! We were in a half hour, glad to be in the shade and off the trail. Gringoes came in, having ridden up on horses at 1000 pesos each!, We sat on a bench and shared the sandwhich i'd brought and one of Gordons' oranges.

somehow the trail home always seems shorter, and we made better time, stopping at the cabanas for a coffee and coconut. It's a good idea to have a place to stay close to the springs, but there was no signage, and in the rainy season, no access. Friendly people. The only event on the walk out was a herd of bhrama cows being pushed up the path by 3 cowboys. We huddled against the barb wire, but the cows were more scared of us than we them and they sidled and skittered by, eyeing us nervously, finally breaking into a ponderous gallop away. Dusty cowboys wore paper face masks.

Back to Manialtepec, tired but happy, we wandered the sleepy town, seeing yards full of flowers, new construction, a road crew preparing to lay cement, a bakery(polvorones cookies), and finally a collectivo taxi. (3 front and back )which got us back to Puerto by 2:30, tired but satisfied.30 pesos each. a collectivo rocket ride and home to shower and siesta. Fine day, good company, and most important of all, a get out of the city into the country day. It's easy to just beach walk, market and pool swim here, but it is a busy suburb, noisy and populated. Good to get away to where the real locals live.

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watching-constellations · 8 months ago

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Brielle is currently on rehab after her injections. Turns out with two people, a lunge line, a couple mls of ace, and a few semi-blasphemous prayers, she acts just like a normal horse! My hopes are very guarded with her right now because this horse normally bucks like a goddamned rodeo champ on a whim, and she's really good at breaking herself, but hey, everyone's alive so far.

Enter stage left: Eva. Eva is approximately seventeen hands of angry. She's been described to me as, "a butch lesbian with a lot of baggage who's ready to uhaul with you on the first date, but she's also going to scream at you all the time, and she'll probably bully you for fun— just don't get into it with her, and you'll be fine!". Eva had a baby a few years ago, and immediately tried to kill it. She is absolutely prepared to take out the barn staff if she deems them inconvenient. Great start. Eva hasn't yet decided if I'm the help or target practice, but I'm holding out for "friend".

Now, Eva hasn't been ridden in about two months after a bout of cellulitis, and she's hardly been turned out. And, as I was informed, she also has horse PTSD because someone decided to beat the shit out of her while she was getting started. She hates basically everyone and everything, and she might buck you off at the mounting block. Oh yeah, and did I mention she's only six years old?

Naturally, Eva is my new project, because there's something deeply wrong with me and I should probably up the dosage of my antidepressants again I have a soft spot for mean, scary, troubled horses. Bonus points if they happen to be seal bays with devil horn ears, thick manes and tails, and tiny stars... which she is. And good lord, this horse is mean as hell. If Brielle is still lame and/or still bucking in May or June, Eva's owner is willing to consider a trade of Eva for Brielle because Eva's owner and breeder is terrified and refuses to ride her, and she can't even be bred because she's such a terrible mother. It's not like she's that bad to ride. Sure, she bucks a little, and she's anxious, but I've seen worse. It's just that she deserves better.

I had my second ride on her today. My plan is simple: I'm going at her pace. There's no punishment, and nothing bad is going to happen to her. I don't care what the hell she does, I'm just going to find a way to make it turn out okay. She's getting treats and praise and ease, and we'll take it day by day. It's therapy. As best as I can figure out how to give therapy to a gigantic, angry mare, anyway. My friend helped me with today's ride, and after going for a while, she said, "You know, maybe you won't love her, maybe you won't need her. But maybe this horse needs you. She might need you."

And, heaven help me, I remember being fourteen years old and terrified. I remember my PTSD diagnosis at sixteen. I remember running away in the night at seventeen, anything to escape just for a little while. I remember how hard I worked and how hard I tried to survive, how my academic success and willingness to try became the thing that saved me. I know what I needed then. I don't know if I'm going to have Eva for a couple months, or if it'll be longer. All I know is that I know what I needed when I was younger, and when I look at her, I see me, too.

After our ride today, Eva stopped trying to kick me. She licked my hands, and seemed disappointed when I had to leave. Against my will, there's a connection forming here.

So tldr; for the foreseeable future, I will be risking life and limb going on stupid glorified pony rides as I try to convince these two dumbasses that keeping the human in the saddle is a really good idea.

Probably pray for me or send good thoughts or make offerings to the equine gods or whatever, I don't even know, man.

What's better than one neurotic, homicidal warmblood mare? TWO neurotic, homicidal warmblood mares!

#my posts #horses #oh how the mighty have fallen #FEI -> we walk in happy circles and hope we survive :)#and now: we very carefully TROT in happy circles and hope even harder!!!#no one mention the “c” word #the c word is the source of all suffering #I would very much like to be able to canter without the fear of dismemberment #but hey at least this beats isolating in my apartment like I've been doing these past few months!

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transperceneige · 2 years ago

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There's a horse story I was told about and I literally can't get it out of my head so I kinda need to lay it out here.

Tw : it gets pretty gruesome, so skip entirely if you don't want to hear about horrific injuries caused by a horse.

So I was talking with a friend who's an excellent rider - she's 50+ years old now, has been working with horses her entire life, and at one point was competing at quite high level in eventing and show jumping. Let's call her M.

At some point in our conversation, she said something about that time she broke her back falling from a horse, so I asked her what happened.

Turns out that, in the 80s, when she was in her final year of high school, she got a part-time job working for a trainer specialized in backing young horses - aka teaching them to wear a saddle and bridle, and to carry someone on their back for the first time. They were also teaching the young horses the basics of under-saddle work, as well as working with 'difficult' horses, whose owners had trouble breaking in themselves.

(just for context, this is all happening 30+ years ago in rural southwestern France)

My friend M. is quite a petite, muscular woman, and was even more so at barely 18yo, and her athleticism and competency as a horse rider made her extremely good at this job. Basically, she was unshakable, and could stay in the saddle through the worst young horses' tantrums - rearing, kicking, jumping up and down, she had seen it all and very rarely got unseated.

The head trainer had different kind of riders working for him - big guys, tall guys, small guys, and my small female friend - and would try to find the better 'fit' for each horse. For instance, for some horses the process of being first ridden would go more smoothly with a big guy, some were more easily handled by women, etc.

After a few months working for the head trainer, M. got a ride on an especially difficult horse : Jaquin.

Jaquin was a tall, gorgeous chestnut anglo-arab, with an incredible pedigree (bloodlines so good, M. said that horse was probably worth more than her current house).

That was in the 80s, so anglo-arabs were still basically half arabian blood, half thoroughbred, meaning they tended to be especially hot horses, full of blood and stamina. Basically born to jump and run cross-country, but with quite a reputation for difficult temperament.

Jaquin was a superb specimen, and was still owned by the couple running the breeding farm he was born at.

But there was a serious problem with this horse : despite being raised in 'normal' conditions (aka no abuse, handled by professionals with a long experience with horses, and no evidence of any physical pain), this horse had stayed all his life dangerous to handle, and very aggressive towards people. The owners had tried it all with him - but at 7yo, Jaquin was still a nightmare, so they got him castrated, hoping it would help make him less dangerously dominant.

Sadly for them, that didn't change a thing (basically : the castration was too late to really impact his behaviour), and the horse was still unriddable (which was kind of a bummer for a horse bred for competition).

In a last-ditch attempt to make something of this horse of fantastic potential but awful behaviour, the owners sent him to the facility M. was working at.

At first, the head trainer tried to have him worked by some of the other riders, but no one was able to get anywhere with the horse. So the head trainer asked M.

He also told her : never, ever stay alone with that horse, don't be alone with him in the stable, and don't ever ride him alone. That was the first time he had given her such advice.

But rightly so : M. was absolutely unable to approach the horse. He'd see her and try to attack. He's see anyone and try to attack and bite if given the chance, but was especially agressive towards small people, like my friend who's barely 1.50m tall. Despite all her experience with handling horses on the ground, M. was never able to even simply put a halter on Jaquin, as he would physically try to crush her.

The guys working at the barn had to get him ready for her, and they'd never ever get in his stall without a pitchfork in one hand.

M. told me she had never met a horse like that, and she never did again in her life.

The head trainer too was baffled, and agreed with M. that this horse had something deeply rooted in him that shone through his look.

M. described it as a glow in the horses' eyes, some sort of evil glimmer that made no sense for a prey animal. M. said you'd feel constantly watched when Jaquin was in the barn, like being watched by predator on the hunt. He'd see something or someone he could assert his dominance over and would try to tear through them at the first given chance.

There truly was the weirdest, most chilling vibe emanating from this horse.

So : that is a lot of red flags. But being 18yo and needing money, M. carried on and rode the horse. And riding a horse as difficult as Jaquin came with really good money (at least for her standards at the time).

M. being fearful and very competent, she actually managed to get somewhere with this horse. She got 15 rides on him. The 15th was the last one.

She told me the ride was actually really good, she had reached some goals with the horse's training and he worked well under saddle.

But M. said she made one mistake : she patted Jaquin at the end, and let go of the reins to let him walk with his head free. For some reason, that was a huge trigger for him.

Immediately, Jaquin leaped forward in the air, and threw himself on the arena's wall. M. got thrown off, and was catapulted a few feet from Jaquin. She said she was sure Jaquin tried to crush her against the wall with that first throw.

Now, the arena she was in was built for working with young horses, and as such there was a space left between the ground and the bottom part of the boards forming the wall. That space was there for when people were getting thrown off, so that they could roll over, get their body into that space, and avoid getting trampled by a scared young horse.

So M. was on the ground, at a certain distance from Jaquin - so technically she was safe and didn't need to roll under the wall. But when she looked up, she saw Jaquin looking directly at her. He then put his ears backwards, completely flat on his head, and opened his mouth, showing his teeth. M. said the horse made a noise she could only describe as a growl, and charged at her at full speed.

Knowing her only chance was to get into the small space at the base of the wall, she rolled over as fast as she could, just rolled and rolled towards the edge of the arena.

But as she was just a few centimeters away, Jaquin had caught up. M. was mid-roll, on her belly, head toward the ground. Jaquin lifted one of his foreleg up, and then put his feet down right on her back, between her two shoulder blades. And then he pushed, and pushed, literally crushing her.

All this was happening in the span of a few seconds - the head trainer, who was in the arena riding another horse, rushed to intervene, as did another guy on foot. They had to physically hit Jaquin to get him off M.

In that time, Jaquin had crushed a few vertebraes on M's back.

She had to be rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, and had to stay in bed, unable to move, for six months. She missed half of her senior year in high school.

Still, she told me the money she had made off of riding Jaquin covered her living expenses for almost a full year after high school.

After she finished her story, I had one question in mind : what happened to Jaquin after all that?

M. told me the head trainer sent him back to his owners after that accident, basically saying the horse was beyond help.

What happened after, she did not see herself, but she was told about. That's when this story gets gruesome.

Three months after M's accident, Jaquin was in the stables at his owner's place - the place where he had been born and raised as a foal.

Then comes the owners' son, a 7 year old boy. That boy probably had been told to never approach Jaquin, but being a kid and all, he probably didn't follow the rule, unaware of the danger - M. wasn't privy to the details of how exactly the kid put himself in this situation.

What followed is the most fucked-up thing I've heard about a horse.

Jaquin, seeing the boy approach, decided to attack. He turned his head 90 degrees, opened his jaw and lunged for the kid. The boy's face being small, Jaquin could cover it with his opened mouth, and he bit him with each set of teeth on each side of the kid's face. Crushing his skull with all of his force.

The kid died instantly.

...

After that horrific aggression, Jaquin was finally put down (euthanized).

He had killed a child ; not by accident, but unprovoked, with full intent to kill.

That story really stuck with me.

Horses are very pacific creatures, they're scared prey animals, and any aggressivity from them always stems from being put into danger or having been abused.

But I guess once in a blue moon, a horse like Jaquin is born.

Maybe there was something undetected with Jaquin after all - that, we'll never know. But M's recollection of that horse truly made me think : in medieval times, that's the kind of creatures we would have said is the devil incarnated.

#text post #story time #horse #equestrian #tw : gore #long post

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jordanstrophe · 3 years ago

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War of Royalty

CW: Medeival whump, slavery, sold/traded, branded whumpee, caged, intimate/royal caretaker, whumpee willingly facing whumper

masterlist

The blacksmith hammered away on his anvil, wiping sweat from his brow as he exhaled. A carriage halted outside the door, a man climbed out while scribbling away on a parchment. “Merek Raynoldus?” He asked.

“Yeah, that's me.” He replies, crossing his arms as he glances into the cage the horses drew. It contained a man huddled in the center on his knees with his arms tucked and head bowed low.

“He’s uhhh... Got a hurt leg on the journey here. If you want a replacemen-” “-I’ll take em.” Merek interrupted. The man looked up from the parchment, glancing the blacksmith up and down. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.” Merek scoffs. The man’s brow raises a moment before he shrugs. “Alright, the slave is all yours. That’ll be-

In an instant, the roads trembled from a trampling herd of horses. The whole town fell into silence as the four midnight horses formed a line before the two men, the riders dressed in dark menacing armor from head to toe.

“Merek Raynoldus?” One cold voice hissed behind a helmet.

“... Aye“ Merek nodded, sweat beaming on his brow as he glanced between the four.

“You’ve been summoned to the courts by the treason of the king. You’re coming with us.” The second ordered.

Merek’s heart froze as solid as ice. He knew why the four horsemen were here, and he knew what he was accused of.

His previous slave had turned him in... That ungrateful wretch.

The slave trader nervously rolls up the parchment “Shall I-.. uh, come back later then?”

Eden found himself outside the king's chambers once again. This never became easier as he took a jagged deep breath to calm his trembling. He opened the doors to find the king standing at the window, the curtains wide open as the light gleamed around his silhouette.

The boy dropped to his knees as he bowed his head. “You summoned me, my lord?” He gulped, hating how weak his voice came out.

“Eden!” The king beamed, a smile spreading across his face. Before the slave could choke out a word, his hand was taken and pulled to his feet. An arm clutching his shoulder, pinning him to the king's side as they stood at the window.

“It’s a beautiful day in Everthil.” He smiled, his grasp tightening. “Y-yes! Of course it-t is, your majesty.” Eden gasped.

They stood in silence until Eden finally peaked his eyes open, seeing the sun shine on the busy streets and children playing in the grass. He felt the king sigh against his shoulder.

“Eden. I want you to know we found your previous owner.”

The boy's lungs froze as his body tensed. The king noticed as he slowly ran his hand along his cheek to soothe him. “He’s been thrown into the dungeons until I choose his sentence. I would kill the man now, but this week... is not for death.” He spoke, his voice growing soft.

“Now, I want to offer you something.” He turned the boy towards him as he tilted his chin up with a finger. “I know that man hurt you more than just your body, but your soul as well.” His hand rested over Eden’s heart, the place where the brand had long been burned. “You have my permission to enter the dungeons. I'm sure you have some unspoken words with that traitor.”

“B-but my lord! That man was my master! He owned me for years, how could I face him?!” Eden cried.

“Was, dear. He was your master. Tell me, who cares for you now?” He asked. Eden hesitated for a moment, his cheek resting within the king's palm. “You do, my lord.” He muttered. The king smiled as he thumbed his cheekbone.

He guided Eden into the chair by the window, leaving him with his thoughts to make his decision.

Yet here he was, trembling at the gate to the dungeons. The door pushed itself open as Eden jumped back, seeing a figure exit dressed in dark armor. They paused as they stared at each other for a moment, even though their eyes were covered, he knew their gaze was fixated on him. The figure's head tilting to the side before they took their helmet off to show their scar-ridden face.

“Eden?” The man asked. “...Y-yes sir?” He stuttered, puzzled how the man knew his name. “Ah! I was wondering when I would meet you! His majesty talks about you all the time. Really, I’m starting to get jealous!” He laughed, his armor rattling with the movement.

Eden’s face fell red as he couldn't find any words.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. The name’s Godfrey, one of four horsemen, the King's royal officer.” He smiles while offering his hand. Eden returned a smile as he tried to shake the man’s hand, but the size of his glove was too large as all he could grasp was two fingers. “So I see you decided to come here after all. Word of advice; don’t let him get in your head, and give em hell, ahaha!” He laughed, roughly patting his shoulder as he passed.

Eden shuddered as he approached the door, grasping the cold iron handle.

“Eden.” He heard behind him, turning around to find the horsemen hesitating at the staircase. “I just want you to know, you’ve made the king happy. For that, you have my thanks.” He smiled.

“... Wait.. But how?” Eden called, finding the man had already retreated up the stairs. He sighed, but he felt his cheeks still burning red with blush. He pushed the door open as he found a room with a single cell, a man broken and bruised slumped in the corner.

His head slowly raised, his eyes shooting wide when he found his old slave standing before him. “Ray!” He called, falling to the ground as he practically crawled across the floor. Eden nervously took a couple of steps back.

“Ray! Oh thank goodness... It’s me! Please, you have to get me out of here!” Merek begged, clutching the bars.

Eden’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at his former slave owner. A man he once feared for his life, now slumped at his feet begging for mercy.

“My name is Eden ... Merek.” He glared.

The man’s face dropped at his words, the color draining from his face.

The boy was his only chance to make it out alive. So it seems he would have to break the slave once more to do what it's told.

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @thegreathowdini @kim-poce @digitalart-dwa @princessofonward @andwhump @sunflower1000

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xdutch · 2 years ago

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"Doctor, my apologies." He corrected himself, in truth he was unaware that he had such a title, in even more truth he probably had completely forgotten if he'd been told. Despite the sharpness of his tone he couldn't help but give a small smile, he expected as much from the other which only proved to amuse the werewitch even more. He'd never met someone like the good doctor, not in his short lived life, making his mere presence something he couldn't forget. Not that the other would have let him, one stern look and an insult later he was left thinking of him more oftehn thatn not. Mostly when no one was around in the darkness of the night.

It hadn't been noticed by him until he'd gotten to the horse that Lucien was clearly avoiding looking at him. "Of course not, Doctor. They are well taken care of to the highest standards possible, took it personal when it came to them." He meant it, he also meant to look at him directly, noting again how the other was avoiding his gaze. He wondered if this was about their little body swap that had happened during the spring mischief. It made some sense, he'd been rather enraged that they'd been switched to begin with-- and now he was left dealing with how that might have felt. All of which were an assumption on his part.

When they got to the stall he stepped aside, letting the doctor take a look at his horses. He'd lean up against the wood of the stall as he waited patiently, wondering if he'd even ridden any of these horses though he knew just what they were being used for. He watched him silently as Lucien looked over his horses, giving him all the time he wanted to make sure they were up to his standards. When he came back around to where he was he gave him a lopsided smile. The queston had him frowning slightly, "A couple, they were quite the sight and had the place buzzin' for a lil while. I helped get them ready for what Raiden wanted." He explained, thinking quickly on why he wanted to know. "Any reason why you're askin' about them?"

"It's Doctor." Lucien corrected with a sharpness that always came with having to correct those that didn't use the proper title, one he'd worked too hard to get over the many years and many doctorates he'd received because unlike the many that claimed the title and boasted about their knowledge Lucien put in endless hours of work and continued to to stay reliant in the fields he held doctorates in and to be able to practice in those fields legally.

He followed the younger man through the unfamiliar area. Lucien rarely came to the stables, his most recent visit when his body was switched and he still remembered the feel of the body before him. It was a very different memory since the tactile recollection wasn't from his own hands. He was lost superimposing those feelings and hypothesizing the feeling of Dutch under his touch until he nearly ran into the younger as he came to, what Lucien perceived as, a sudden stop.

Unconsciously a hand reached out almost touching the groom to stop him from hitting the younger, but he recoiled it before it could reach the werewitch, balling it into a fist, and pulling it tightly back into himself diverting his gaze to the horses. "As they should be for their costs. I did not purchase them to be mediocre, Mr. Hawkins." Lucien's words fell to their normal cold even tone as he looked them over. Never a fan of the animals himself or most in general save for their purposes in scientific study. These he had no use for save for the race he'd bought them for then he could care less. He'd sell them or use them to study one of his many biological agents.

After visually inspecting the horses he came back around to face the younger groom again finding it not as easy to treat the werewitch as indifferently. He was the more senior of them and a councilman so it should have been on him to broach the less than ideal situations that mounted over spring mischief. Lucien had zero desire to speak of any of it; ever, to any degree. "Has Mr. Proulx had any horses pass through here that you've inspected?"

#c: lucien

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the-blonde-adventurer · 3 years ago

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Never Ending Truths (6)

Indiana Jones x OC

Summary: Everyone is born with a matching tattoo to their soulmate, but not everyone can feel their soulmate’s emotions. Harley LaCarrubba is a freshman attending Marshall college to one day be an archeologist with her passion for history. Lucky for her, she is being taught by none other than the famous Indiana Jones, the school heartthrob. She can feel her soulmate’s emotions but never met him in real life, making her feel guilty about having a crush on her professor.

Words: 2225

**Three months later**

Life is going great; school is so much better now Eric has left me alone. I'm doing great in my classes, acing every test I'm given and even in mathematics. Indy lets me stay after school and help him grade tests and shows me artifacts he recovered. We still tease each other, and most of the time, we end up laughing and telling stories from our past. I have fallen head over heels for him, and I know I shouldn't have. I can't help that everything about him drives me crazy. His cute laugh that wrinkles his eyes, his cologne that floods my senses, his quick sassy remarks, the way he nudges me with his arm after teasing me, the way he takes his glasses off and bites the arm in thought, the way he looks at me with admiration when I answer a question correctly.

I get up at three o'clock in the morning to go down to the farm down the road to pick up another workhorse for my dad. I put on my old pair of work jeans, my black and white checkered shirt, put my hair up, placed a bandana to keep my hair back, and a couple of boots. I will be driving home today for our two-week break and helping him out on the farm.

I get in my truck; madrina lets me borrow along with the horse trailer. I back out and drive down to the farm to pick up this new horse. I listen to the radio, trying to keep myself awake and focused on the road.

I finally got to the farm parking out front, where the farmer was waiting for me. I got out of my car, getting the older man with grey hair and thick glasses. "Mornin ma'am." he nods his head kindly. "Good morin, glad to finally meet you. You must, Carl." I smile as I shake his hand.

"I am. Your father already called and paid for the horse in full. Let me tell you, this horse is a great workhorse. She's a Percherons and loves to work." he smiles as he walks me back to the barn.

"Fantastic; I know my dad would love that." I smile at him as we walk back to get the horse. His farm was so lush and beautiful, with an excellent field plowed, a big red barn that must keep all the horses, and flowers all along the outside of the beautiful house. He took me inside the barn, and I saw this beautiful black draft horse about 17 hands tall and a big black smooth mane. "This is her; her name is Rokka. A brilliant horse comes on a whistle and knows her name. I got her trained up real good. She's also saddle broken." he smiles at me.

"She's perfect." I smile as I hold my hand out to her to get used to me. She nudged my hand, wanting me to rub her face. "Hi baby, you are precious." I coo as I rub her nose, placing a kiss.

"Your daddy told me you are one hell of a rider." he smiles.

"Oh, I haven't ridden in a while." I blush with a smile.

"Well, I will when I go home." We get her bridled up and lead her out to my trailer. I put in some hay for her to have a little snack for the school trip. I wish I could pick her up after school, but that's an hour in the wrong direction, and I won't make it home until two days. It's a fifteen-hour drive, and I don't want to spend more time than I need to. So I get her inside, close the door behind her, and chain it shut. This horse trailer is excellent for her. It opens in the front so she could get fresh air but can't run out; spacious for her, and I can lay hay down as well.

I pull up to school parking in the back so that I wouldn't be in the way. I set up a little water trough for her then gave her an apple. "I'll be back at lunch." I kiss her nose before leaving. I go to my classes hearing people mummer about how I'm wearing pants. Of course, in 1934, women who wear pants are viewed as masculine. I ignore them as I focus on my studies.

Finally, lunch, I can check on Rokka. "Here, for your new horse." Madrina hands me an apple and a couple of waters.

"Thank you." I smile as I put them in my bag before walking out to the parking lot. I passed Indy as he was going to lunch with his hands in his pockets. I nodded my head in greeting as I gave him. "Afternoon, Professor."

"Afternoon, miss LaCarrubba." He nods back before looking at my outfit with a smirk. I walk on the grass, going over to my horse trailer. I gave my horse water and the apples taking care of her until lunch was over.

**** I sat in Indy's class, listening to him teach as I took a few notes. There were only five minutes left and then I would be able to head home. "Whoever brought the horse to school is running around the campus by the English building. Take care of it now, or animal control will be called." The Dean announced over the intercom. I jolt up, racing out of class as fast as I could. I heard people rushing after me probably to see the show. I glance behind me to see my whole class running with smiles over their faces.

I spot my horse eating grass by the pond and put my fingers on the corner of my lips, whistling her over. "ROKKA!!" I scream. She snapped her head up and slowly walked to me. I walk over, meeting her halfway. She ran to the other side of campus from the parking lot. I mount her and grab her mane, ready to ride back to the trailer. I noticed everyone was watching me, and teachers shook their heads in disappointment. "Ya!" I kick her sides, and we gallop away, going as fast as possible. I heard cheers behind me as I rode past everyone causing me to smile. I finally make it back to the horse trailer letting out a deep breath. I dismount and get Rokka back inside, noticing my chain was gone. I sit down with my head in my hands, thinking about how much trouble I will be in for this. "You alright?" I heard that deep voice ask me. "I'm in so much trouble for this."

"How did she get out?" Indy questions me.

"I don't know, I had the door chained up, and now I can't find the chain." I sigh, running my hand through my hair. I watch as Marcus Brody, Dean of Marshall college, walks over to us with teachers following behind him.

"Here's your bag." Indy hands it to me. I take it and nod my head thanking him, ready for the ass-chewing I'm about to receive. Indy left and walked behind the trailer, probably to hide.

"Miss LaCarrubba! Explain yourself! Have a horse run through campus, scaring students, disrupting class, ruining our lawn. This is not how a student of mine should act. Why is there a horse here?" Dean Brody scolds me.

"My family are farmers, and my daddy called me explaining my horse Cowboy died, and we don't have a farm horse. He found this horse at a cheap price, so I picked it up for him so after school I could head straight home and help him out." I explain as tears run down my cheeks. "I had her chained up, and I don't know how she got out. I'm so sorry; I was trying to help my dad out so he wouldn't lose the farm." I explain trying to stop the tears that threaten to escape.

"I can tell you what happened." Indy came around the corner with the chain in his hands and bolt cutters. "It was sabotage."

"So you're saying someone released that horse?" Brody questioned Indy.

"Yes, look, you can see where it was cut." Indy goes over, showing the chain.

"How do we know she didn't do it to show off?" Some teacher I've never seen before says. Indy looked up at him with glare after insinuating I was to blame. "She was in my class, and I had eyes on her. She jolted up once she heard that announcement and rushed to put that horseback."

"Maybe she did it before your class." The same man says.

"She was in my class." Mr. Smith tells the group.

"I think you should tell us, coach; your name is on the bolt cutters." Indy points to the handle where the name Stapleton was carved into it. That must be Eric's dad! I look up at him, shocked, knowing his son is the one that has been making my life hell. "Your son has been bullying my student since the first day of school." Indy takes off his glasses putting them in his jacket.

"Lies."

"Day one, he teased her, day two he threw peanuts at her, day three shot gum into her hair, and Mrs. Donovan and I had to get it out. You know it was him. That's why he was benched." Indy gets inches from the coach defending me.

"He was benched because of his grades."

"You and I both know that's not true." Indy tells him lowly. He's going to swing; they are going to fight.

"Yes, I do recall having him in my office for bullying this poor girl." Dean Brody says as he points at me. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. LaCarrubba, you're not getting into trouble. Coach, your kid is off the team for bullying this girl continuously." Dean Brody tells him. I rub my hand, wanting to feel my soulmate calm me down.

"You can't do this to him; he's worked so hard to be here!"

"Well, his actions caused him to lose his spot, be thankful I didn't kick him out." Dean says. "Now leave before something else happens, and I have to fire you and kick out your son."

"This is all her fault; you have it coming to you, little slut." He pointed at me as spit flew out of his mouth. Indy grabbed his shirt, pulling him close to his face. "Don't you dare threaten and insult my student. You lay a finger on her. I'll cut your hands off, do you understand me?" He shook the man. Teachers tried to break them apart, but Indy held on tightly, not wanting to let go. I've never seen this side of him before; he was so strong and pissed off. Indy usually keeps his cool and is very easygoing. "You have a thing for her, huh Jones?" He smirks, tilting his head to the side.

"She's my student! I look out for my kids just like any teacher should. I wouldn't have to keep having to look out for her if your son left her alone and stopped trying to get her in trouble." Indy shook him.

"Enough!" Dean Brody broke things apart, separating the two men. "Everyone leave now!" He orders. Everyone left their separate ways leaving Dean Brody, Indy, and myself alone. "Hey kid, you okay?" Indy bent down to me. I look up at him with tears streaming down my face. I quickly wipe it, not wanting to see me cry. "Oh yeah, I'm good."

"Spill it."

"I thought I was getting expelled, and I was upset because all my hard work would have gone down the drain. I'm just trying to save our farm and help my dad. I can't imagine the disappointment if I tell him I got kicked out." I explain as I look down at my hands.

"You aren't getting expelled, you are not in trouble, and no one will lay a finger on you as long as I'm around. Everything will be okay, don't worry about it anymore." He took my hand in his, and I felt a shock go through me, causing me to jump. I know he felt it, too, because he had a look of surprise on his face as he looked up at me. "Must have been static electricity." I mumble as I stare into his eyes.

"Yeah, you're right." He nods his head.

"Thank you again." I look down at the ground before looking back up at him. "I seem to attract trouble."

"You and me both." He smiles before putting his hand on my shoulder. "But damn, you can really ride and bareback too; I'm impressed."

"I have many hidden talents." I smile with a chuckle.

"That you do, alright kid, you should probably head to your father's."

"You're right." I nod my head as I stand up. Indy opened my car door for me, and I smiled at him. "Alright, cowgirl. Drive safe. I'll see you in two weeks."

"See you in two weeks." I smile at him and put the key in the ignition, hearing the car roar to life.

#indiana #fanfic #indiana jones #harrison ford #soulmate #romance #adventure #history #raiders of the lost ark

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morporkian-cryptid · 3 years ago

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Today in "Elliott's Niche AF AUs": one (1) person asked me about this, sooooo...

Lupin III Discworld AU crossover headcanon pile thingy!!!

For those who don't know: Discworld is a flat world held on the back of four giant elephants on top of a giant turtle, floating through space. That world has magic, as well as trolls, dwarves, goblins etc... but in a way that's meant to subvert typical fantasy tropes.

Ankh-Morpork, the biggest city on the Disc, is a hotbed of crime, innovations, and innovations in crime. It is run by a council of guilds, and by a Patrician (a lifelong tyrant; he's elected by the guilds but he has the final say in everything). Notorious for having an Assassins', Thieves', Beggars', and Seamstresses' (sex workers) Guilds. Also notorious for its Watch (the police), which is actually surprisingly good at solving crimes. It's also the biggest immigration destination on the Disc.

Character backstories/situations:

Lupin : half-quirmian-half-agatean (Quirm being the DW equivalent of France), grew up in the Agatean Empire (DW equivalent of China/East Asia). He moved to Ankh-Morpork to follow Fujiko, and/or to escape Zenigata. He’s an illegal thief (meaning he's not registered with the Thieves' Guild), and his favourite hobby (besides just stealing in general) is screwing with the Guild. Commander Vimes, the head of the Watch, is supposed to catch him (or at least help Zenigata catch him), but he's secretly rooting for him because he dislikes the Guild slightly more than he dislikes Lupin.

Jigen : son of a couple of Agatean immigrants in Ankh-Morpork, grew up as a street urchin in the Shades (the most crime-ridden neighborhood of the notoriously crime-ridden Ankh-Morpork). He joined the Assassins’ Guild later in his life as a (mostly self-taught) sharpshooter, with a talent that outshone that of the Guild's best students. He later quit the Guild after he met Lupin (possibly had a contract to kill Lupin, and decided “screw this I’m going with him”). He can use any kind of shooting weapons, but favors crossbows. He’s tried stealing and using the gonne (DW's first and only firearm); it didn't go well. He somehow managed to learn one single spell from the wizards, the fireball, by becoming pals with Arcchancelor Ridcully (wizard, head of the Unseen University, and famous for his unfortunate passion for crossbow shooting).

Goemon : agatean immigrant/fugitive, master swordsman. He left Agatea because Fujiko stole his Zantetsuken and fled to Ankh-Morpork, so Goemon had to follow her to retrieve his sword. He then met Lupin and Jigen and decided to stick around. The Zantetsuken is a talking sword, and its personality is basically the embodiment of Bushido. It's extremely annoying (like all talking swords), but Goemon loves it. (it was probably his only friend back in Agatea)

Fujiko : agatean immigrant/fugitive. Ran away from the Agatean Empire chased by Goemon. She joined the Thieves’ Guild, but everyone confuses her for a seamstress because her technique usually involves seduction. She tried it on Vetinari once. It failed spectacularly.

Zenigata : agatean immigrant, part of the Empire’s police force, who came to Ankh-Morpork chasing Lupin. He only brought his assistant Yata with him, and has to cooperate with the Watch to have resources to catch Lupin. Vimes doesn’t particularly like him, but he’s good at his work so he can’t say anything (they're both too stubborn to get along).

Bonus:

Yata: Zenigata’s assistant, came to Ankh-Morpork with him, rapidly became great friends with Rufus Drumknott (the Head Secretary of the Patrician, Lord Vetinari). He has a bad influence on Drumknott. He also befriended Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson, but then again Carrot befriends everyone.

Ami: She's a clacks operator. Clacks are basically the DW equivalent of telegraph. There's a group of clacks hackers called the GNU, so she might have joined them.

Albert: He's part of the Patrician's Dark Clerks (they're the secret services of Ankh-Morpork)

Rebecca: She's from Quirm. That’s all I have about her for now. (Quirm's the equivalent of France, but in the french translation it was made into an equivalent of Italy)

Random-Ass Headcanons

Lupin gets along like a house on fire with Moist von Lipwig (former conman and current postmaster, notorious adrenaline junkie), both figuratively and literally. Lupin and Lipwig sometimes team up on heists and rely on each other’s help, when they’re not busy competing against each other because Lupin keeps daring Lipwig to thieving competitions.

One of the contests’ goal is to steal Vetinari’s manuscript, The Servant. Fujiko wins. She wasn’t even in the race.

///

Fujiko quickly became friends with Adora-Belle Dearheart (Moist von Lipwig's rather explosive girlfriend), they get together every now and then to trash-talk their respective boyfriends.

///

For some reason everyone thinks Lupin is a werewolf. (it’s actually Jigen)

(maybe. I haven't yet decided whether or not he is. That would be a very good source of angst, considering what most werewolves are like, and also a very good source of domestic fluff if the whole gang has to adapt to the moon cycle and Jigen's transformations. Idk. Might be fun.)

///

Fujiko owns a horse golem (a gift from Adora-Belle or something she stole, we may never know). The Gang also owns a carriage, modified with a spell so it will drive faster, and they drive it completely carelessly. It has been destroyed and rebuilt countless times. (actually a bunch of spells, Lupin probably found a way to blackmail Ridcully so he could mod the shit out of his carriage. Or they rely on Jigen’s friendship with Ridcully)

///

Lupin uses swamp dragons as firearms (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Jigen: You stole a dragon??? Lupin: I didn’t steal him! He’s his own person and can make decisions himself! Dragon: I wanna steal). He has an alias and disguise entirely dedicated to visiting the Sunshine Sanctuary For Sick Dragons, and somehow became friends with Lady Sybil Ramkin-Vimes (Commander Vimes' wife, and the greatest expert on swamp dragons in the city, probably on the Disc). Vimes doesn't know about it, and Lupin finds the whole situation hilarious. He constantly makes jokes about how he’s playing with fire.

///

The Thieves’ Guild and the Watch are competing to catch the Gang, but secretly Vimes is rooting for the Gang (the Guild just hates them). That said, Vimes also hates Lupin (only slightly less than he dislikes the Guild), because he's always a little shit whenever he gets put in jail, and then he immediately breaks out.

///

Rincewind (famously bad wizard with a shit luck and a tendency to run from problems) once got arrested by Zenigata, because he got startled by him yelling LUPAAAAAAAAAN! and started running for the hills, making Zenigata believe he was Lupin in disguise. Rincewind is terrified of Zenigata.

///

Zenigata is actively trying to stop the Thieves' Guild from catching Lupin and Co, both because he wants to catch them himself, and because he knows what the Guild does to illegal thieves and he doesn’t want it to happen to Lupin.

///

Lupin stole Ridcully’s hat (custom wizard hat with a bunch of pockets, drawers, a crossbow, and a tiny flask of alcohol) as a gift for Jigen’s birthday. He also stole Lipwig’s hat (golden cap with dove wings), after which Adora claimed she didn’t recognize Moist (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Moist: C’mon babe, it’s me, your boyfriend! Adora, knowing full well who he is: I have never met this man in my entire life). He also raided the Assassins' Guild's armory/museum to get a birthday gift for Goemon.

///

About Jigen and the gonne (spoilers for Men at Arms) : basically, the gonne being such a dangerous and destructive weapon compared to crossbows, it has a nigh-magical attraction on people, and awakens and strengthens whatever lust for power, vengeance, blood etc they have. It basically controls its user and feeds on their convictions, addictions, wants, etc. The only person known to have resisted it is Vimes (because he's a stubborn mofo with a sense of morals you could bend iron on), and even he came damn near to losing his mind. (And Carrot, because... he's Carrot.)

Assuming the gonne didn't get destroyed in this AU: after they steal it, Lupin tries to use it, gets completely possessed/cursed (again) and accidentally tries to murder his friends (again), prompting Jigen to take it from him. Jigen then gets possessed as well, and they start fighting for the gonne, until Goemon just walks in, takes it out of their hands and takes it away. Goemon's completely unaffected by the gonne because 1) of his ascetic training and 2) "it is a filthy morporkian artifact and cannot compare to the noble art of the sword."

///

Zenigata often teams up with Angua (resident werewolf of the Watch), they get along very well. The Gang is very easy to track, they smell like a tobacco factory that has caught on fire.

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Yata and Drumknott (Patrician's head secretary, and confidante, sort of) get together after office hours, and argue about whose boss is the best (because as we all know they both have a crush on respective bosses). One day Drumknott accidentally calls Vetinari “Sempai” after he heard Yata call Zenigata that all the time.

///

Lupin follows Lipwig’s example and steals all of Yata’s pencils every time he visits the Pseudopolis Yard (the Watch's HQ). Drumknott is fuming when Yata tells him about it.

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Leonardo Da Quirm is butt-naked, because Part 4.

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Something with vampires, probably.

///

tagging @carriagelamp and @mad-whoman-with-a-book00 because I know you may be potentially interested in this AU ^^

#lupin iii #lupin the third #discworld #ankh-morpork #terry pratchett #lupin iii discworld au #already making a tag in case i make more posts; you never know #the hobbit's headcanons

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