#ive been crying about them for weeks now internally so thank you friend

[blissfulalchemist]

WIP Wednesday

(Because I got the brain rot and need others to suffer with me)

Thanks to Kate I've been consumed by another au old man ship from ffxiv so you all must bear witness to the small piece I have for them wherein Demos does not share the same soul as Sib. Tagging a few peeps: @belorage @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @unholymilf @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @corvosattano @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @shallow-gravy @deputyash and anyone else that wants to use me as an excuse to post wip stuff!

Shadowbringers spoilers

It’s a daze as Elidibus stumbles on the dirt road towards Eulmore. Body growing heavy as his vision darkens and can feel the shift in pressure as the void opens before him. So sudden and he’s powerless to stop it now that it’s started. Elidibus had felt this way only once before….he thinks? A distant memory pulls at him and brings him high from the ground. Half lidded eyes see the form of a brown haired man until he closes them and opens them once more.

He’s greeted by a smile that lights up ice blue eyes framed by ebony hair and round round brown glasses. He wears robes of old and more detailed than the shades left by the late Emet-Selch. The man turns to face him more and it’s when he starts to say something that the realization slams into Elidibus. He blinks once more, gasping sharply when the image is gone and he’s left facing the Warrior of Light’s right hand, Demos. With violet eyes framed by longer brown hair and a scar that slices his face, yet avoids the small scattering of freckles on his cheeks. His clothes are garments of the present matching many of the Crystarium and suit him far better than any of the attire Elidibus had seen over the years.

The two men look at one another briefly, a frown starting to pull at Demos’ lips. “How did-?” Elidibus stammers, “Was it you who called me here?”

Demos shakes his head, readying to speak when he winces in pain and Elidibus can feel the ringing in his mind. Can feel the way Demos’ gift grasps for any shadow of a memory in the darkened archive of his mind, He will find nothing of import. A rare moment though where Elidibus can wade through his memories in turn. It’s easy to grab the sliver of something that pairs so easily with one of the many torn pages. 

“I do not care what you are during the day….the moon is full and you are your true self….”

Elidibus laces their fingers together, smiling softly at the soft glow the moonlight gives to his lover’s eyes. “And I shall always be….for this is always my favorite moment….”

The memory fades leaving Elidibus to look down biting his tongue that he can’t seem to know why that was a memory that would come from Demos. “Did you learn anything new, Demos? I doubt there is much left that would surprise you.”

“You finding me here is a bit of a surprise.” Demos steps closer, hand starting to reach out, “I didn’t call for you Elidibus, but that still doesn’t mean I’d find your company unwanted.” Elidibus stays rooted, listening to Demos’ footsteps as he makes his way closer, “That promise you made all that time ago, about making sure that the star stayed upon its true course.”

“My duty, yes. What of it?”

“How did you ever decide what the true course was?” 

Elidibus looks up with a furrowed brow, “We have discussed this before. Do you not remember? In great detail, if I recall.” Demos shakes his head, “Very well. Choices and sacrifices must be made so that the star and all life within it are to thrive and be made better.” Demos holds his chin with a hum, “Did that answer your question?”

“If life is currently thriving and there are people all over that strive to make it better, then shouldn’t that mean the star is currently on its proper course?”

“The world as it stands is incapable of making change that will allow it to thrive. As Elidibus I shall see that the years of hard selfless labor of my fallen brethren will not be for naught.”

“And what of us?” Elidibus looks down, fists clenching, “What will become of us if you guide the star as you are now?” Demos becomes inches from the Emissary, his hand slowly reaching up to cup his cheek, “Tell me, Elidibus, does being with me mean you stand with your brothers….or against?”

His face is guided to look up into pleading violet eyes, all the while he searches for an answer to give, an answer that was spoken in another time perhaps? He stands still, sifting and wading through faded pages knowing there was an answer that passed through parted lips. He swallows, briefly closing his eyes, “Demos, I-.”

Elidibus’ eyes go wide as lips engulf his own and an arm tightens around his waist. The instinct to push him away fades as lips part and tongues entwine, a soft moan emanating from him as his eyes close and arms embrace the one kissing him. Memories he thought long gone pour out and fill his senses with a deep laughter among music that only became his favorite after they spent their first night together, the scent of cardamom and chamomile, ice blue eyes shining behind square spectacles, soft pale skin that his fingers dance over in the moonlight, office, and bedsheets, with the distinct warm flavor of winter caramel given to him by someone with a name he’d dare not utter since that fateful day. Demos’ hand slides up the back of his neck and in an instant he’s no longer in the body of a hero from the present, but once more in his original form. With long silver white hair that fingers could easily get lost in unlike what he has now, a feeling that lets free images of an office lined with bookshelves and a ornate wooden desk in the center with fresh varnish that was easy to feel when he was made to use it to remain standing as the surprise kiss made him dizzy. The first of many it turned out….

The cold tear that rolls down his cheek as the memory starts to end with a faint ringing in his ears is the only thing solidifying his truth, his fear….his grief. As Demos pulls away with shaky breaths Elidibus matches that fading memory as he breathes out, “Conner….”

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

[gremlintooth]

AHHHGH DUDE, IVE FINALLY FOUND YOU ON HERE, YESSSS BRO, YOUR WRITING IS PHENOMENAL, (I'd say I'm the biggest lagwafis enthusiast on the internet, as soon as i read lagwafis, I bought the CD, the collectors edition pill pack white shirt, I have so so so many quotes on my Craig Tucker Shrine from the fic, and if you wanted to know, I've currently managed to read lagwafis 388 times, people believe I know it by heart, get it? "I know you by heart, Tweek" and the agonizing fact I quote lagwafis every day whenever I see a brink of reference infront of me, like let's say yesterday, I was in a store- and I saw a tub of chai latte and I was so close to screaming lagwafis reference inside of the store, I'm also cooking up some fan art (specifically from coming home) so I'll totally tag you when it's out) AHHH I'M GONNA WRITE SO MUCH ON HERE IT MIGHT GO TO THE LIMIT, okay so first, let's talk about the fanfic itself, there are SO many tiny details in this fic that have either made me laugh or cry in agony, which is a good thing, also, the characterization is TOP TIER, a lot of fanfictions tend to fall slightly short on the background characters outside of the pairing that tends to be the main focus. This was a great change, especially in Craig's group and Stan especially, everyone felt so real and totally had obvious quirks from the fandom itself that I LOVED SO MUCH, your writing evokes so much emotion that I somehow managed to feel exactly how everyone felt in a chapter relevant to them.

Let's talk about the character description choices, the way you described Tweek in almost every chapter made my heart ache in the best way possible, you made him sound like a fallen angel, the definition of ethereal, also the fact you decided on giving him that mouth scar with backstory to it is TOP TIER, I have a similar scar on my lip and whenever I see it in the mirror I think of Tweek from this fanfic, let's move on to Craig, the way you wrote his internal monologue and the way his emotions played out made me absolutely soul crushed, this entire fic left a deep pit in my heart, especially how Craig was described, Craig was written so realistically that it actually felt like he was real. He purposely blocked off his emotions to prevent himself from being seen as vulnerable, he struggled with keeping his “I don’t give a shit” personality until it all just exploded and the part that he was so vulnerable with was exposed to the entire school.

Also I see that the lagwafis anniversary is coming up soon!! I usually celebrate it every year when I get the chance to, by doing lagwafis related things and shit, this fanfic deserves way more than just kudos and comments and hits, this fic deserves the damn world and beyond, I even had literal dreams of this fic being one day announced to be an animated movie, and if it ever did I would cry and vomit in the best way ever possible, my life would be so complete if we became moots on here, also, I'm not sure if you have TikTok, but that's where I'm most known to being the lagwafis enthusiast on there, i make a lot of lagwafis related videos, my username is spacecadetcraigz, if you ever see this at some point, just know im so grateful you took your time to read through this.

I literally wish you the best life for now on

Yours truly,

Spacecadetcraig

388 times????? That’s true dedication my friend, you must read it like twice a week? Incredible, I’m so glad you enjoy something I wrote this much. I’m also so glad you love the album by Spiritualised too, it’s such a special album and there’s something so perfect about the title track that I’ve never been able to shake.

I didn’t even realise the anniversary was coming up, thanks for reminding me! It’s so weird to think I started writing that story six years ago. At that time I’d been catching up with South Park and when I first saw the Tweek X Craig episode it was my new favourite thing from the first minute in.

An animated movie would be amazing, Matt and Trey give us the rights pls, free of charge if possible (they’d so try for another billion dollar deal ahahahah)

I’m going to check you out on tiktok and if you do make fanart please tag me! I’d love to see!

[spikesbimbo]

Drunk in Love

Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  

   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

  “Fuck.” He muttered

  “Any’all got a light?”

  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

 “Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  

  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."

  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”  

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

  “Shh baby im right here.”

  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[wizkiddx]

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now. 

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too. 

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy. 

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English. 

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response  Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke. 

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that. 

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her. 

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest. 

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over. 

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language. 

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak. 

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing. 

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly. 

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors. 

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest. 

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay. 

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together. 

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions. 

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately. 

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes. 

“I hate you, you know that right?” 

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it. 

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.” 

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction. 

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat. 

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed  his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees. 

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips. 

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous. 

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

[juseki-taisen]

Ive watched the anime and that was some good shit right there. the mix of 3-D and 2-D animation is wonderful too! I would love to know how the 12 would treat their recently transitioned or in transition S/O because I hear “trans rights” coming from them

You bet your bottom dollar that they all scream TRANS RIGHTS!

Updated: Because I did Sharyu twice and forgot Nezumi. Sorry!

Inounoshishi

Dating Inounoshishi while transiting is actually ideal

Not only does she support you and whatever gender you want to be, but mama has money and is going to pay for it

You're her darling, why wouldn't she pay to keep you happy?

She's also going to take you shopping. She loves shopping and the idea of getting you a whole new wardrobe is to good.

Just be nice and say thank you, and show how much you appreciate her

Honestly? She never got to figure out who she really was/is as a person since she was always trying to please her parents. Seeing you figure out/announcing who you really are is really motivating for her.

Dotsuku

Doesn't have a problem with it.

May occasionally slip up on your pronouns, but always corrects himself immediately. After a week? Doesn't mess up again

Dog. Loyal. He's not about to let something like you being who you really are affect what he thinks of you.

Added bonus: His daughter just rolls with it. Kids aren't as stupid as people make them out to be. If you used to be a princess/prince, you're now the opposite. The real question is, what kind of super hero cape do you want?

Dostuku will help with your medical bills. If doctors give you shit for it, the man has connections. He will find a good doctor who respects you and get your surgery (if you so choose) taken care of

Niwatori

The whole idea of being trans is a little confusing at first for her, but it takes about 000.1 seconds for her to decide it doesn't really matter?

Her whole life she's been a tool for the family, with you she's a person. In the end, no matter how you identify, as long as you still love her that's what matters?

Does a TON of research. She gets books, medical journals, ect. She uses her contacts to find doctors for you, and don't worry. Cost isn't an issue.

Anyone who tries anything just...vanishes. You know from that weird smile she gets she 110% had something to do with it

If you ever feel ad or dysphoric about your body, she's very supportive.

Sharyu

She already knew. She's very perceptive, and was just waiting for you to be comfortable telling her.

The most supportive.

Does whatever she can to make you comfortable. If you want new cloths, she'll shop with you. If you're to embarrassed to go to a store, she'll order online.

Never uses the incorrect pronouns for you.

Will put one of those little trans flags in the window of her apartment.

If there's a pride event, will go with you.

Arranges a good doctor for your transition when you're ready, and will go to appointments if you're nervous

Hitsujii

He's old, and has seen it all. He may be older, but he's not going to question it.

One of those "Whatever makes you happy" people

Doesn't understand a lot of surgery details and hormone stuff. He'll try to research it, but you may have to help him learn terminology. He does catch on fast

The idea of surgery freaks him out because he has no control. He’d help you, but he is going to be silently panicking on the inside

Uuma

Actually really cool with it? Just tell him you still love him. The first thing he worries about is that you’re going to become this amazing you, and the you that loved him wont love him anymore

Really supportive? Doesn’t know a lot about trans issues, but he tries

He will probably buy you anything with the trans flag on it. 

If you have surgery, he’s going to make sure only the BEST doctors do it

Listens when you talk if you have feelings to get out. It just makes him really happy you’re confiding in him

Takeyasu

Trans? Cool. Fine. Help him pull off this heist

He really doesn’t care, if you’re happy he’s fine with it? 

Actually brings up frogs that can change their gender, and that there’s a species of lizards that reproduce without asexually. If reptiles do it, why can’t people?

Gives you money for surgery if you wanna get it. Worries through the entire thing, but only Nagayuki knows about his brother internal freak out

Also, shopping spree. Criminal shopping spree. grab and RUN

Has trouble using the correct pronouns, but tries really hard and corrects himself. 

Nagayuki

He already knew way before you told him. He’s perceptive, smart, and also finds your online content. Really, he was just waiting for you to tell him yourself

Probably gets you a tray of cupcakes with the frosting colored with the trans flag colors. He likes snacks, any excuse to get snacks and make you happy? Killing two birds with one stone

Master of your pronouns and possibly your new name

You know how hard it is to change your name? This dude hacks into the systems and does it in a night. 

Helps you get surgery if you want it. Not emotional about it, but will hold your hand if you want him to. 

Ushii

Help him. He doesn’t understand trans when you first bring it up, but when you explain it clicks

Now he is fully on board and ready

While he can’t keep up with a lot of LGBTQ+ terms, he supports you and what makes you happy. You want to be the gender you’ve always wanted? No problem. Just tell him what he needs to do

Has fought someone who purposely misgendered you before. 

Will take you shopping if you’d like

You want surgery? He knows people. Honestly? He’s so well known that the doctors are volunteering to make sure it gets done properly.

Never once messes up your pronouns.

Tora

She’s seen so much on the battlefield that when you tell her, she’s not that concerned. It’s great that you trust her, and she will support you but...You’re not going to leave her, right? 

Cuzz she loves you with all her heart and if someone like you can become every more yourself (and therefor more amazing) why would you stay with a screw up like her?

After she gets past her insecurities, Tore is very supportive of you

Has punched a guy in the face for being rude to you. Maye have started a street brawl over it, it’s fine. She won.

Surgery freaks her out no matter what is it, but she’s going to be there if you want it. She may just cry when you can’t see her. What if something goes wrong???

It wont and you’re fine but you wake up and she’s crying like a BABY

Usagi

This...is kind of a disaster? Not in the way you’re thinking

He gets all your pronouns right, and quickly is VERY excited to call you his new girl/boy friend. 

But uh...people may die...A lot of people

If he notices that people give you weird looks, they’re dead. He will FIGHT and MURDER people who are transphobic (but what’s the loss really?)

Loves to shop with you, and tries to pull things he thinks you’d like (probably kills people there too, RIP)

If you want the surgery, you have to do the research. Usagi doesn’t get it. HOWEVER he will help pay...sort of

“It’s expensive”

“Will this cover it?” Proceeds to pull out diamonds and gold bars, and...is that a rare species of monkey? WHERE DID HE GET A MONKEY?

How do you even exchange that for money?

Imagine going to pride with Usagi. 

Snuggling with Usagi if you have body dysphoria. Him not really understanding everything but 110% being willing to support you. 

Neuzmi

Already knew. Not a huge deal for him. 

Supportive, but really casual about it

He’s great with pronouns, and does use his ability a lot to try and make sure he doesn’t say something to make you uncomfortable

always quick to apologize if he does. 

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Re: Star Wars prequel novelizations - the Revenge of the Sith book is genuinely one of the best things I have ever read and changed my life.

THANK YOU, anon, for reminding me about the Revenge of the Sith novelization.  I just reread it, and my crops are watered, my skin is clear, and — I cannot overstate this — I actually remember why I love Star Wars.  That love has been for too long stolen by The Fandom Menace sucking the life out of those movies to invent a new definition of suffering while digesting them slowly over a thousand years.

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover is one of the greatest works of adventure fiction I have ever read, and it continues to inspire the way I write action sequences and character conflicts.  It does so damn much to transform a movie that is, to be honest, just okay.  There are a couple of big additions from the novel that make the whole Skywalker saga richer, and there are about five hundred little tweaks that deepen the lore in a way that shows that Stover loves Star Wars to the core.

First big addition: having Obi-Wan tell Padmé that he’s in love with Anakin. This is great because yay, queer representation!  But within the specific context of RotS, it also sets up the super-important contrast between Obi-Wan and Anakin.  Obi-Wan, Stover’s novel makes clear, is the quiet and unassuming embodiment of everything a Jedi is supposed to be: he’s selfless, loving, hard-working, and incredibly skilled with the Force.  Obi-Wan falls in love with Anakin, realizes that Anakin doesn’t love him back in that way, and... lives with it.  He spends time with Anakin, supports Anakin, enjoys Anakin’s company, and doesn’t act like the world will end if Anakin isn’t his.

Anakin loves Obi-Wan, in a siblinglike way, and he loves Padmé.  But he’s got a nasty habit of expressing that love through possession and control, through going behind Padmé’s back to “fix” her life without her permission.  Anakin falls in love with Padmé and immediately concludes that he cannot possibly live like this: they must begin a secret relationship, and he must both marry her and remain a Jedi.  Later he destroys the Jedi and eventually Padmé herself because he sees himself as having no way out of that dilemma.

And all the while, Obi-Wan is there in the background.  Also in love with someone with whom he cannot have a relationship, and just… dealing with it like an adult.  Because millions of people are in love with people who don’t love them back, and that’s just how it is sometimes.  It’s selfish to obsess over “having” their love at all costs.  For Anakin, that obsession with saving Obi-Wan and Padmé eventually leads to him killing them both.

When Yoda tells Anakin that he must deal with his fear of losing Padmé through letting go, Anakin takes this to mean “let her die.”  But what Yoda means is not “let her die,” but rather “love her the way Obi-Wan loves you: quietly, selflessly, and with a willingness to do what’s best for her, whether or not that means you get to have her.”  And Anakin never understands that, because Anakin’s view of the world is so intensely egocentric.

Second big addition: updating the Force to explain the Dark Side. Revenge of the Sith, even more so than any other Star Wars, is all about the contrast between the Dark Side and the Light Side.  Here, Stover’s contribution is brilliant; he makes the Dark Side egocentric and the Light allocentric.

Terminology! “Egocentric” in psych refers to the perspective that focuses on how the world affects you and how you affect the world.  At the extreme, egocentric thinking can be believing that a baby is crying in a deliberate effort to annoy you, or that every person in a crowded cafeteria will remember what shirt you wore when you ate there a week ago.  “Allocentric” refers to the perspective that the self is one of several disparate elements buffered around by the world.  At the extreme, allocentric thinking can be failing to realize that others are reacting to your presence, or viewing your own life as one thing you can give to help others.

Stover doesn’t use those terms, but he does describe how Dooku “drew power into his innermost being until the Force itself existed only to serve his will” (p. 64).  Later, Obi-Wan “gave himself to the living Force… the Force moved him, let him collapse as though he’d suddenly fainted, then it brought his lightsaber from his belt to his hand” (p. 285).  Dooku ultimately loses his fight against Anakin because he focuses on how everyone is responding to him, and misses that Anakin and Palpatine are beginning to build an alternate alliance right under his nose.  Obi-Wan ultimately wins his fight against Anakin because he allows the Force to shove him around, and sets aside his concern with both his own life and that of his best friend while fighting for the greater goal of peace.

Not only that, but Obi-Wan’s understanding of the Force moves beyond that of most Jedi.  He compares “the will of the Force” to “the will of gravity,” in essence stating that simply because it is beyond human comprehension doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its own rules.  One can be a Jedi without needing to understand the Force in the same way one can be a pilot without needing to be a physicist.  In RotS, we see that his refrain of “search your feelings” is a way of calling on a Force user to be mindful enough to accept realities that are already evident, if one can only allow oneself to have that knowledge.

Stover also uses these competing perspectives — allocentric and egocentric — to explain why the Jedi Order falls.  The tight control the Order exerts over the Jedi moves them away from the will of the Force and toward the will of the Council.  Its insularity creates a sense of superiority, which is the reason so many Jedi fail to see their clone troopers as threats until it’s too late. Stover tweaks the Jedi Purge scene to emphasize that the only reason Obi-Wan and Yoda survive is because of their selflessness.  Obi-Wan takes the time to befriend his alien mount, repeatedly confirming her well-being, and then she shields him with her body when his troopers open fire.  Yoda respects the Wookie command and puts himself in a position to assist rather than lead the resistance movement on Kashyyyk, meaning that when a fight breaks out between him and his troopers the Wookies don’t hesitate to side with him.  Yoda and Obi-Wan are the only two Jedi who truly give themselves to the service of others, and thus they are the only two to survive the Purge.

...and the million little favors this book does for the movie.

During the opening battle, having Obi-Wan tell Anakin to “use the Force” to fly a narrow trench and having Anakin roll his eyes at such an obvious suggestion.  It’s a callback to A New Hope, but one that drives home how much more the Force is integrated in the lives of Old Republic Jedi than it is in the lives of Imperial kids like Luke.

Fixing the minor continuity error from Episode III to Episode IV — why would Admiral Motti dismiss Vader as following outdated superstitions if there were millions of Jedi within his lifetime? — by explicitly stating that the Sith are considered a dead culture.  Ergo, Vader’s “ancient religion” isn’t the Force in general; it’s specifically the Sith creed.

Making Palpatine scarier and more seductive than he is in the movie.  Stover’s rhetoric about killing even the Jedi children is frighteningly rational and coherent, and he uses it to give Palpatine some stomach-churning speeches while corrupting Anakin.

Using the novel format for all it’s worth.  Stover skims over the physical-comedy elevator sequence in favor of having Dooku and Palpatine discussing their plans for the war.  He only tells us about Anakin’s conversation with Yoda after the fact, in scattered flashes as a panicking Anakin runs through the halls of the Jedi temple.  He gives us intense focus on Anakin’s mindset while trying to land the broken halves of Invisible Hand, less on what the ship itself is doing.  He cuts away from Anakin and Obi-Wan’s final battle, toward R2D2 and C3PO as they struggle to drag a dying Padmé into her ship out of a desperation to find some small way to help her.

Revealing that Palpatine spends the entire story trying to kill Obi-Wan.  This gets hinted at in the movie, but Stover includes several moments throughout Palpatine’s “rescue” from Dooku when Palpatine sets Obi-Wan up to die, and mentions like eight other attempts on Obi-Wan’s life as orchestrated by Palpatine.  It’s a great character addition, that Palpatine assumes he cannot get Anakin to fall unless he first eliminates Obi-Wan.

Expanding Padmé’s role in the movie (set dressing, and later refrigerator filling) by having her secretly organize and launch the Rebel Alliance right under Vader and Palpatine’s noses.

Those are just examples of how Stover clearly knows the Force, gets the Force, and strives to make the Force more internally coherent.  How he sometimes translates, sometimes preserves, and always improves the pacing and tone of the film.

I haven’t even touched on the FUCKING AMAZEBALLS imagery or introspection in the book yet, but this post is getting wicked long, so I’ll go ahead and leave it here for now.  Point is, all y’all should go out immediately and get a copy from your library and/or used bookstore, because Nonny is right and it’ll change your life.

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Unexpected

Prompt: “what happened to your clothes?”  “I think i’m falling in love with you.” “I think ive always known, deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” 

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, somewhat detailed sex scene, iunno not much really. 

A/N: Sorry it’s so long, i had this idea and thought it’d be a fun read. Enjoy :)

Dean sat on your bed, mindlessly watching and waiting as you hid in your closet, dress after dress, skirt after skirt flying out, one almost hitting him in the face. He caught it mid air before tossing it down next to him. 

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up, its just a few drinks at the bar, Max already knows you, you dont need to impress him, he already likes you.” Dean spoke, watching as you popped out from your closet, three different shirts in your hands.

Dean was your best friend, you had met him and Sam as a child, your fathers had been hunting partners for a few years, always leaving you and the boys at bobby’s to cause trouble for the old man. You could still hear bobby’s voice sometimes, demanding Dean stop influencing you with his schemes. 

His buddy Max had run into him at the bar last week while you guys had stopped in during a hunt and they had caught up for hours, you had connected with Max off the bat, and when he’d asked you out, you were skeptical, see deep down you always knew Dean was your guy, your never ending crush on him had turned into deeper feelings years ago, you tried to deny it for years, and definitely never told him, but when Dean had convinced you to give it a shot, go out on ONE date with a guy he knew and liked, you gave in, never being able to say no to him, i mean, to be fair you hadn’t been with a man in over 2 years and you could use a night out, maybe even some quality time in bed with a good looking guy, plus, Dean trusted him, and that was enough.

“Dean, i haven’t been out with a guy in 2 years, i’m not going out with a guy looking like a swamp monster, first dates are everything, and looking your best can make or break the date.” You huffed, holding out a shirt to him for an opinion, he shook his head, grimacing. 

“First, you never look like a swamp monster, you’re stunning no matter what, you hardly have to work at that, secondly, that’s an old ratty tshirt you stole from me, really?” He pointed at it, now realizing he was right, why the hell you were even suggesting this. It was time to pull out the big guns. You sighed, hiding back into your closet, you had to have something date worthy. 

Dean had popped away, grabbing himself a beer, giving himself a break from outfit advice. You were his best friend and he wanted nothing more than to see you happy, even if it meant trusting Max to take you out on a date. It was one date, it’s not like he was stealing you away forever. He had always had a soft spot for you, you were his first kiss as a kid and he’d looked out for you ever since, and even though he trusted Max, seeing you get all worked up over a guy that wasn’t him still didn’t settle well with him, but he shoved his feelings down and tried to be as supportive as he could. 

He walked back into your room, realizing you were finally working on your makeup, you were slightly bent over your bathroom sink, reaching closer to the mirror as you did your eyeliner, truth be told, he loved when you did that black wing thing, it enhanced your big E/C eyes and drove him nuts everytime. He looked you over, realizing what you finally had chosen to put on, a shorter than he’d like black leather mini skirt, a matching leather shirt thing that looked similar to a bra more than anything. He cleared his throat. 

“What happened to your clothes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You finish your eyeliner before walking past him, fetching lipstick out of your little makeup bag before making your way back to your bathroom, “What do you mean? Theyre fine.” You spoke, applying your lipstick as he piped up.

“I mean like, where’s the rest of it?” he sassed and you rolled your eyes as you walked back into the room. “It’s not that bad is it? It’s literally all i can find that isn’t covered in holes, old blood or stained monster guts.” You looked down at yourself, smoothing out your skirt. Dean cleared his throat as he eyed you properly, trying hard to calm his way out of a boner. 

“Uh, no, no i’m just teasing, you look incredible.” He smiled, nodding, you shoot him a innocent smile, “Better, Winchester. Much better, right answer.” You shoot him a small wink and he chuckles. He had come a long way on talking to women because of her, she helped him realize as a teenager and a young man that he didn’t need to be vulgar or gross to pick up women and he’d learned a long time ago thanks to her that chivarly was key.

He watched as she put on her coat, Max waiting by the door to take her out, she gave him a little wave as she told him not to wait up, she’d be fine. 

“Be safe, have fun.” He smiled as she walked out the door, his internal groan coming out of his mouth and he kicked himself for being too scared to ever make a move himself. He’d liked her since they were teenagers, but he was too stubborn to do anything, his fathers voice telling him hunter relationships never worked. 

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

The night had been a blast so far, you and Max were having a great time chatting, dancing and enjoying each others company at the bar, he was sweet, nice and had a good view on life and hunting. He told you entertaning stories, some even involved moments he and Dean shared as young teenagers hunting together, being boys and trying to get girls, Max pranking Dean. They had a good friendship and you were happy Dean had someone besides you and Sam he could pal around with. 

You had moved to his truck a while ago, the mix of alcohol and pure need affecting you both as you made out like teenagers, the windows began steaming up, it was an unusually warm evening in lebanon and you were thankful you wore this outfit or would have soaked right through it from the heat. 

His hand moved freely on your thigh and you straddled him, his back against the backseat of his pick up with you on his lap, dry humping him like some silly teenage girl who hadn’t had sex yet, you made the first move, desperate to feel a mans touch, it had been so long. 

You yank your top off, nothing but some nipple covers to cover your exposed breasts, Max lets out a soft moan, “Beautiful,” he mumbles while he kisses softly around your skin, he slowly peels off the covers off you and his mouth lands on your nipple and you let out a louder Moan than you want to but it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

Before you know it, your both down to nothing but your underwear, you reach down and pull down his boxers, reaching a hand in and grabbing him and placing him at your entrance, you’re already so turned on you don’t need foreplay tonight, not when you’re this sexually frustrated. 

You sink down on him slowly, and you both moan out, yours comes out as more of a shout, and you begin to move, slowly at first before changing into a soft but faster bounce, he’s making sounds, you know that for fact but you’re so distracted by the feeling of pure pleasure you haven’t felt in so long you aren’t even fully aware of what’s happening, you let out a shout, and before you know what’s happening, it all suddenly just stops.

You come back to reality and notice Max has pushed you off, he’s pulling his pants back on and avoiding your eye. Oh for fuck sakes, you haven’t even came close to your release and Dean set you up with a 2 minute one pump chump. You were going to kick his ass. 

“What’s wrong? are you done already?” you ask, his looks at you, letting out an exasperated huff before licking his lips and shaking his head. “I’m sorry Y/n, i don’t think this is going to work out, besides, you shouldn’t really sleep with a guy if you’re not going to rememember his name.” He scolds, glaring at you before he shoves his shirt on and climbs out the back, you put your skirt and shirt back on, deciding to skip the panties all together.

“Hey! I do remember your name, it’s Max, i’m not stupid!” You yell at him, angry now that he would even suggest that. Max turns to you, glaring, “Oh yeah, then next time maybe you should try screaming my name out and not Dean’s, jesus christ y/n, if you want him that bad just go fuck him, i doubt he’ll say no!” He shouts and you stand frozen. 

“What? Dean?, i didn’t...I don’t-” you stutter, he cuts you off. “It’s kind of obvious y/n, you screamed his name for a reason, you obviously have lingering feelings for him, and im not going to be your pitty fuck.” He sighs, he ushers you into the passenger seat, offering to drive you home in what is the most uncomfortabe, quiet, embrassing drive home ever. 

You slam the bunker door closed, worst date ever. You make your way past Dean and Sam in the library as you try your hardest to avoid them, especially Dean, you were embarassed enough, you didn’t need to face him right now, and you sure as hell hoped Max kept his mouth shut about it too.

“Y/N? That you? “ You hear Dean call out but you avoid answering, flying past them to your room before slamming the door shut. 

Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“I guess the date didn’t go well then.” Sam speaks out, looking over at Dean. He shrugs, before getting up and walking towards your room

He knocks on the door softly, “Y/n, you okay? did Max do something cause if he did i’ll beat the living crap outta him.” He calls out, he can hear your sniffle, he sighs, before softly opening your door. You’re cuddled up in bed, watching your favorite episode of golden girls as you cry softly. He sighs and heads over, sitting on your bed. 

“Bad date?” He asks and you shrug, “Something like that.” He gives you a soft smile. “Want to talk about it?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, i just wanna forget it.” You speak, he notices you never meet his eye. He nods and agrees to leave it alone, he joins you quietly, watching tv with you but giving you your space. When you finally fall asleep, he goes to bed himself, but not before shooting Max a text. 

“Whatever the fuck you did man, she’s upset, and if i find out you hurt her, i’ll kill you.” 

                                                      ---------

It’s two weeks later when things finally come out, you haven’t spoken to Max since that night of your date. The bar is busier than usual, a few more college kids then there usually is but it is spring break, most of them are probably home for the much needed time away from school work. 

Dean is at the pool tables, hussling some airhead jock out of pool money. You watch and laugh when he heads over to you, cash in hand. 

“Ha ha, stupid brainless jocks. Always so much fun seeing how much of daddy’s money i can get out of them.” He chuckles, setting the money back in his pocket. You roll your eyes but smile. Why did you put up with this dork. 

Before you know it, someone is calling out for Dean. “Yo, Dean!” You both turn to spot Max, waving Dean over for a game. You swallow, nervous that the details of your date will come out, you still weren’t fully over it, and you dreaded Dean ever finding out, he’d never let you live it down and he really didn’t need a bigger ego. Luckily Max hadn’t noticed you yet. 

Dean motions he’ll play one round and be right back and you try to give him a smile, dreading this inside. Just don’t ask him about the date, you interally tell him, even though he’s long gone and can’t hear it. 

You sip your drink, asking for another one and you try to keep your cool at those two being in the same room all of a sudden. 

                                                      -----------

One game had turned into 4 and before you knew it, the two guys had captured a crowd, some betting on Max and some on Dean. It was becoming a friendly competition between the two boys. 

“Aw come on Max, don’t be a sore loser, i’m sure you can come back from that.” Dean teases, watching as Max lines up his next shot. 

“Easy for you to say Winchester, tell me, do you ever get sick of being a pompous prick?” Max winks at him and Dean smiles, “Eh, Sometimes, but then i remember how fun it is to watch you lose and its all worth it.” Dean chuckles, Max suddenly isn’t in a joking mood and he shoots, it goes in, he gets a few more and Dean’s actually surprised. 

“Not bad, man. You’re getting better.” Dean smirks, “Still no match for me though, i always win.” Dean leans in, takes a shot and gets his last three balls in, He lines up with the 8 ball, looks up at Max, and smirks, then his eyes find you, sitting behind Max a few tables down and he shoots you a wink, before sinking in his ball. Game over. 

Max turns around, realizing who Dean winked at, he turns back around, slamming his pool stick down. “Good game, I’m done, guess you won Dean, you got the money, and the one girl i’ve liked in a really long time, guess you always do win, huh?” He spits out, a bitter tinge to his voice. He scoffs and walks away.

Dean’s suddenly confused, what the hell was he talking about. He looks over at you, you’re watching the television over the bar, no clue what had just happened, he follows Max outside catching him before he reaches his truck.

“Hey! I didn’t get anything, if this is about y/n, you screwed that up on your own, okay? I had nothing to do with that!” Dean shouts. Max laughs and turns to face him. “Oh bullshit Dee, you have everything to do with it!” He sneers, “I really liked her man, she was cool, but like always, Dean Winchester always gets the girl!” He scoffs, making Dean frown, confused. 

“Y/n isn’t mine! she’s my friend, whatever you did to piss her off on your date was your problem, she didn’t tell me what you did but if you wanted her that bad, you had the chance to fix it!”

“REALLY DEE? Tell me, how the fuck would you fix the girl you like screaming your best friends name in bed when shes with you? Huh? How the fuck do i fix her thinkng about you while she’s fucking me?” He swallows, “Man, forget it, you wouldn’t understand, god forbid that ever happened to you.” He spits, before he’s in his truck, driving away. Dean’s still standing there, more confused than ever.

He finally makes it back inside, his eyes roaming around for you. He finds you in the same spot, the female bar tender chatting with you and making you laugh. Your eyes find him, beckoning him over and he moves.

He finally reaches you and you smile, “I got you another beer. How did the game go? You disappeared.” You ask, and he stares at you, he finally pipes up, and your heart sinks. Oh no. Please no.

“Max seemed very upset when he saw you, what happened on your date again? Why didn’t you ever go out with him again?” He asks, you take a sip of your beer and shrug. “I dunno, he wasn’t my type, just didn’t work out.” You bite your lip, hoping to god he lets this go, you don’t need to relive that embarassing moment. 

He nods, taking a drink of his own beer, “Okay, so he just wasn’t your type, that’s all? It had nothing to do with you screaming my name in the middle of sex?” He calmly points out and you nearly choke on your beer, spitting beer across the bar table, everyone close by stares at you, you turn red, apologizing and grabbing napkins to clean up your mess. 

You turn and face Dean, “He fucking told you!” Dean raises an eyebrow, “In a not so nice way, so it’s true? You really did?” He smirks and you bury your face in your hands, “Oh god...” You call out and when you look back up Dean’s cheesy grin is staring back at you, “Actually, apparently it’s Oh Dean.”

You throw a nice solid punch into his shoulder before you run out of the bar, “Y/n...y/n wait!” Dean calls out but you’re already half way across the bar and out the door. He throws down some cash and chases after you, catching you half way down the road.

“Y/n...” He calls out, “Just leave me alone Dean, i knew you would use this against me, i knew it. You’re a jerk.” You wipe away a tear, he finally reaches you and grabs your arm, turning you to face him. 

“Hey, i didn’t mean to upset you, i’m sorry, i just, i was surprised, that’s all.” He sighs, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I thought Max was the one who hurt you or something.” He speaks softly and you sniffle. 

“it’s embarassing, i didn’t even know i did it, i was so into it and then he just stopped, for a second i thought he’d already, you know, i was disappointed then we got into an argument about it and he took me home.” You shrugged. 

Dean nodded, he was quiet for a while, and then he spoke, revealing something that made even you question if you were drunk.

“I uh, i guess i wasn’t expecting to hear that, and i guess i got a little excited cause iunno i just, i think i’m falling in love with you, and when Max told me i just uh, i guess i was hopeful that maybe it meant you felt the same.” He swallows before going quiet, watching your reaction carefully. 

You nodded, frowning as you realised you weren’t dreaming, Dean loved you, Dean Winchester loved you.

“I think i’ve always known, Deep down, i think i’ve always loved you.” You shrug, “Every since we shared our first kiss, i think part of me has loved you ever since.” You smile, finally meeting Dean’s eyes, the grin on his face tells you all you need to know, this man is crazy about you, always has been.

“oh yeah?” He smiles, reaching out to grab you, you chuckle, leaning up and placing a slow, deep kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, what can i say, you’re just my type.” You smirk and Dean laughs. 

“Well then, why don’t we get back home and i’ll give you a real reason to scream my name.” He smirks, leaning down quite a bit to place wet warm kisses along your exposed neck. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” You roll your eyes, he meets them and a sexy grin appears on his face. 

“Not a chance.” 

[honeypirate]

In the end part two

Izuku Midoriya pro hero x fem pro hero reader

Okay so I wanted to write a part two because I kept thinking about it hahaha it’s shit but I wanted a happier ending. For Midoriya.

Comfort from waking up after being in a coma.

Part one here

Your eyes pop open and look up at a white tiled ceiling, you try to talk but you can’t get any words out, you start to panic, to hyperventilate as your mouth and throat recognize the presence of a tube, your hands fly to your mouth as the beeping from the machines add to your panic.

A pair of hands grab yours and hold them down gently “y/n y/n look at me please look at me” you look up and focus on a very familiar pair of emerald eyes, you squeeze his hands and he sees just how panicked you are in your eyes “y/n just try and relax Everything is okay just don’t look away from me keep your eyes on me” you nod quick and squeeze his hands again as nurses and doctors run into the room, nurses silence the beeping and a doctor comes up to you “just relax miss l/n it’s okay I just need to remove this tube” you don’t look away from Izuku as the doctor removes the tape and then slowly and gently pulls the tube from your throat. Once it’s free a nurse wipes away the spit and you take the tissues from her and cough into them, you begin to cry from how scared you were in that moment, from the overwhelming panic you felt.

Izuku wipes your tears as the doctor asks you questions. “I’m deeply sorry for you have to experience that. We didn’t expect you to wake up on your own. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks” your eyes flash back to Izuku and you can see how ragged he looks, he looks like he hasn’t slept that entire time, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing a sweatshirt that you stole from him a long time ago. He must have got it from your apartment. You wish you could hug him. He smiles at you with relief in his eyes, he knew exactly what you’re thinking, desperate to hug you as well.

After the doctors do a few quick tests they remove your IV and then leave you alone with Izuku. You watch as he stands from his chair he was at to stay out of the way and crosses the room to you, you smile gently and feel tears start to fall again. “Oh no don’t cry” he cups your cheeks and brushes away the tears “sweet girl” he says “I was so worried but I never lost hope. I knew you’d come back to me” you reach up and grab his hands, holding them in your own. “I was so scared that night” you whisper “I thought. I throught for sure I’d never see you again.” Your voice cracks “you saved me Izuku” his eyes swell with tears, as hard as he was holding them back he couldn’t any longer “I wish you didn’t have to go through that” you reach up and wipe his tears away.

Now you’re two crying people who are desperately in love with each other, both holding each other’s faces wiping away the tears. You can’t keep your feelings hidden any longer, you couldn’t when you knew how easy life could change “I love you Izuku” you whisper and his eyes widen for a second before your words really hit him, his tears flow harder as he leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, your tears mixing together, when he pulls back he takes a big breath with a smile and says “I love you y/n” he says with a laugh, you start to laugh with him “look at us” you say and he laughs a little harder along side you.

When you both calm down, stopping crying and laughing, he helps you out of bed and into the bathroom. Your muscles are stiff from not using them for so long and your legs start to shake after a few minutes. Change into some comfy clothes he had brought you a while ago, in hopes it would help you wake up somehow to know you had some of your things here. When you open the door again he’s right there, taking your arm and helping you back to the bed. He hands you your phone he kept charged and you called your parents, you ended up crying again and telling them that you want them to come over the next day since you just wanted to go home and get comfortable. “Let me speak to Midoriya” you mom says and you laugh holding out your phone to him “it’s for you” he laughs and takes it “hello mrs. l/n. Yes. Yes I will. Yes. Thank you” he hands the phone back to you, his cheeks flushed, you mouthed “what did she say?” At Izuku and he just grinned, unbeknownst to you he’s been talking to your parents every day since you were in the hospital since they live in America and can’t travel. He’s confided in your mom many times about how much he loves you and how scared he was. “I’ll tell you later” he whispers as you continue your conversation with your mom.

After you finish your call you text all your friends and you send out a few messages on your social media’s so your fans know you’re alive and you look at emails and then groan at the number. You sigh and hand your phone to Izuku “can you take this? I’m overwhelmed” he nods “of course” he slips it in his pocket and then pulls you into a hug, rubbing circles across your back as you take deep breaths, the smell of him filling your senses.

A nurse came in after a little while with a wheelchair and your discharge papers. Izuku has your other things in a bag over his shoulder and he follows you out of the hospital with the nurse.

Izuku takes you to your apartment and runs a bath for you, he helps you into the bathroom and then hesitates, “can I ..” he gestures at you and you chuckle, raising your arms above your head, knowing he just wants to take care of you.

He helps you out of your shirt and your bottoms, taking your hand as you step into the hot bubble bath “this is perfect Izuku thank you so much” his face is red from seeing you naked but he feels good that you trust him and love him. He wants to help you feel loved and cared for. He kneels behind the bathtub and wets your hair, gently massaging in the shampoo and conditioner, tears were softly falling down your cheeks as you experienced this moment with him. You felt so loved and taken care of.

You washed your front and he took the wash cloth from you to wash your back, his cheeks getting even redder. He helps you out of the tub and wraps a towel around you, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a hug not caring about the water on your skin and hair. “I’m going to lay out some clothing for you” he says and you nod against his chest. As he disappears you brush your teeth and run a separate towel through your hair. before your legs and arms begin to shake. “Zuku” you say before you find yourself falling to the ground. 

“I’m here sweetheart” he says and catches you, easily sweeping you up into his arms as he carries you out to the bedroom “sorry I took so long” you shake your head, a frown on your lips as tears spring to your eyes yet again “no. Don’t be sorry. You have been,,, so good to me, I can’t ever thank you enough” he sets you gently on the bed and crouches down to look at you closely, a small smile on his lips “I would do anything for you, for nothing at all. I’ve been so lucky for you to give me your heart, to trust me to take care of you. I love you. I will always take care you.”

 you don’t realize you’re crying again until he’s wiping your tears away “come on, lets get you dressed and then I’m going to carry you to the couch where we can watch movies and order take out” you smile and nod “good girl” he stands and grabs the clothes he has laying out, helping you put on your shirt before slipping your underwear up your legs, helping you stand and keeping you steady as you pull them all the way up. he places your hands on his shoulders as he helps put your sweats on you before sweeping you up again. you chuckle softly and he smiles, the sound making him feel the first real happiness he’s felt in weeks. oh how he’s missed your laugh. 

After a good meal you’re feeling more like yourself, you sit on the couch with your feet up on Izuku as he tells you thinks you’ve missed. Like how a new hero is interning with his agency and how Bakugou finally confessed his feelings for Ochako. you could hardly believe you missed so much. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve been coming here to shower, I just wanted to feel closer to you” he’s shy and look at his hands, blush dusting his cheeks. You turn your body to move closer to him, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards yours, you kiss his nose “I don’t mind. My home has always felt better with you in it” his face blushes deeper and he kisses your lips softly. “I’m so happy, so relived you’re here” you smile “I’m here to stay” you say and he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tight.

“I can’t wait to get stronger and come back to work” you say cuddling into him “I’m glad you still want to be a hero but I would understand if you had a change of heart” he runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back to look at him “thank you for saying that” you caress his cheek and he blushes “but i’m a hero, I have to get my strength back so I can fight along side of you and protect people.” he places his hand over yours “that’s the girl I fell in love with” he places his forehead against yours and you close your eyes “let’s go see Recovery Girl in the morning. she might be able to take care of the damage done to your muscles and then I can help you start training as soon as you want” you chuckle and reach up to place your hands on his neck “that’s a good idea. will you stay here with me tonight?” you rub your thumbs softly against his skin “I was hoping you would ask me that” he whispers and before he can say anything else you close the last few inches between you both and press your lips into his

he sighs and cups your face gently, smiling into the kiss, when you break away his eyes are filled with a mix of love and bliss, “i love you” you whisper and he blushes “I love you” he says back to you and your heart fills with electricity, you’ve been dying to tell him that for months, it feels amazing to finally have it out in the open and reciprocated. you just wish it was under a better circumstance. 

You watch a move while cuddling, his hand in yours and your head against his chest, when it ends you’re already falling asleep against him. he chuckles as he turns off the tv, picking you up easily “I cant believe im falling asleep. You would think i got enough of it the last three weeks” you say as he carries you to bed. he tucks you in and turns to leave but  you pop up, fully awake and grab his hand “don't leave!” you shout and then blush, embarrassed at your outburst, you drop his hand and look down at your hands in your lap “I’m sorry” you whisper and he reaches out, tilting your chin up to look at him “don’t worry” he leans down and kisses your forehead “I’m going to shower and then i’ll come right back here to you” you blush deeper, feeling a little worse for your outburst. “okay” you whisper and he leans down, kissing your forehead before re-tucking you in “I couldn’t leave you and I don’t want to. Don’t worry my sweetheart”

when he gets back after his quick shower you’re still in the same position, he thought you were asleep until he slid in next to you and you pulled him to you, cuddling in to his chest “finally” you whisper and his heart flutters, you were waiting for him. “you make me feel safe” you whisper “I’ll always keep you safe, no matter what” he says and you kiss his shirtless chest “always my hero” you say before finally feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep. 

[yourstrulylightstar283]

I’m Here, Son. Always (A Cars 3 Human AU One-Shot fic)

The following fic contains subject matters. Discretion is advised. And the following fic is a complete human AU. Also, this is for you all, carsisthebaneofmyexistence, daia-red-panda10, pnf-lover98, drawbauchery, 13thdoodle, the-brucest-fan, hoshi-tsubasa, cassi-art, lightning-mcquack/klhpyro/cryptid-aliens and people who want to see Doc alive and continue to be there for his son figure Lightning.

For disclaimer, I don’t own Cars series and its characters.

The fic © bat25wonder32super (Me)

A week and 2 days (Nine days) after he has suffered a violent crash, leaving him badly injured at the Los Angeles International Speedway, Lightning McQueen is still hospitalized and is in a coma.

He has his forehead, chest, right lower arm and left upper arm wrapped in gauzes and a cast on his right leg while he is wearing hospital patient gown. There are adhesive bandages here and there on his face & body, though cuts, scrapes and bruises are still there on his body and face along with a bruise on his left lower eyelid while the IV tubes are connected to his body. Thankfully, his heart rate is steady, and he’s able to breathe on his own. His bodily functions seem quite normal and he has no swelling on his face, eyes, both upper and lower eyelids and body. The cuts and scrapes are not deep but he’s still not responding. He is with his mentor, crew chief and father figure Dr. “Doc” Gary Hudson, formerly known as The Fabulous Hudson Hornet, at his side.

Doc feels very heartbroken that the terrible crash accident that happened to him happened to his son figure. He misses Lightning’s smile and training alongside with him. He longs for the times he, along with the people from Radiator Springs and Lightning has spent together. He longs to hear his voice again. He wants his son figure back and he needs him to come back. After reflecting on his longings, he takes a shaky but deep breath with tears in his bright blue eyes and takes Lightning’s left hand in his gently.

“Lightning, if you can hear me, please keep fighting. You’re precious to me. You’re precious to your friends including Mater and even Sally. You’re like an older brother figure to Cruz and you’re precious to her. You’re so precious to all of us, son. Please stay alive.”

Doc holds Lightning’s left hand a bit tighter yet still gently as Doc finally allows himself to shed his tears and with that, his tears slide down his cheeks. He can’t stand the thought of losing the precious person who is like a son to him. The person who gave the people of Radiator Springs including Sally, Mater and even him a new happiness, hope and peace. He also can’t stand the thought of the people of Radiator Springs including Sally and Mater losing Lightning and he even can’t stand the thought of Cruz losing her older brother figure. He tries to continue speaking through his tears as he desperately but gently wipes his tears with his handkerchief (Doc’s handkerchief is a sky blue with dark blue dots.). “Son, I need and miss you so much. Cruz needs and misses you so much. Your friends including Mater and Sally need and miss you so much. We all need and miss you so much. I love you so much and we all love you so much, son. Please wake up. We all can’t accept the thought of losing you and I can’t stand the thought of losing you. It’s been a week and two days (Nine days). Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave all of us,” after saying these, he finally let himself to cry softly as he gently touches Lightning’s lightly freckled cheeks and kisses his lightly freckled nose. Doc leans softly against Lightning and caresses Lightning’s hair gently as he keeps allowing himself to cry softly.

A few moments later, Doc hears Lightning’s voice calling him. “Doc...”

“Son?!” Doc looks at Lightning opening his blue (Somewhat darker than Doc’s) eyes slowly and Lightning smiles, a weak but warm, gentle smile. Doc is now joyful that Lightning is finally awake.

“I thought I lost you, I was so worried. I’m glad you’re awake, Lightning. It’s okay, son. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here, son.” Doc says warmly with a gentle, soft smile as he wipes away his tears with his handkerchief.

“I’m sorry that I made you worried, Doc.” Lightning answers. “It’s alright, son. I’m happy that you finally woke up.” Doc replies gently. Then, Lightning asks Doc, “How are my friends from Radiator Springs, Mater, Sally and Cruz doing?”

Doc answers, “They’re still missing you and wishing for your recovery. Also, they have sent a lot of sweet get-well-soon cards and gifts to you.” “That’s very sweet of them, I really appreciate it. I can’t wait to see them again. I want to thank them for their support and kindness,” says Lightning with a happy smile on his face. “Tonight, I’m going to call them that you woke up and you can see them tomorrow,” says Doc, smiling warmly. “Thanks, Doc,” says Lightning, still smiling with full of happiness.

But suddenly, Lightning’s smile disappears with his eyes filling with sad, remorseful tears. Doc sees Lightning’s remorseful, sad face and Doc’s smile disappears too. Doc is now concerned about Lightning. “Are you okay, son?” asks Doc with his eyes filled with genuine concern and sympathy.

Tears fall down Lightning’s cheeks as Lightning sniffles. Lightning sadly thinks that he’s failed the person who is like a father to him. Lightning manages to say tearfully, “I’m so sorry, Doc. I let Jackson Storm get into my head. I’m so sorry that I let you down, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry that I messed up everything. I’m so sorry.”

Lightning sobs as Doc gently hugs him, being careful not to hug him too tightly, knowing he would still be hurt. “It’s okay, Lightning. It’s not your fault. I’m happy to see you alive. I’m here, son. Always,” Doc comforts Lightning kindly as Lightning gently hugs him in return, even though he is still crying. Lightning feels and knows that Doc is always here for him. With Doc, Lightning feels reassured.

The End.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

The Study of Hearts

Master List

Warnings: Hospital talk, minor swearing

~~

“Hey Y/n, what’s been up with you today, doc?” You spare a quick glance over at the nurse who’d come up beside you, glancing away from the patient’s chart for only a second before returning to it. 

“Nothing’s up with me, I’ve just got a lot of patients today.” She scoffs instantly. You should have known better than to try and lie to Nurse Choi. She had been your head nurse during your internship, and your residency, she knew almost everything about you, and you were a fool to assume she wouldn’t notice your sudden drop in mood. 

“Don’t tell me that. We’ve had a fuller ward than this and you’ve never snapped at someone. That resident you scolded is still crying in the nurses station.” You feel a twinge of guilt at her words. The resident hadn’t really done anything wrong, but offered up the wrong medicine when you asked the group a question regarding a patient. You may have laid into them for longer than necessary about checking charts and allergies before handing out meds. “And this morning you actually shouted at the guy who took your parking spot. This isn’t like you.” You’re thankful the patient you’re currently looking at is asleep, recovering from a surgery that just ended. “So tell me what has the calmest, most level-headed doctor in the cardiology department so wound up.” You sigh deeply, setting the chart back into the sleeve at the end of his bed. 

“My boyfriend.” 

“The idol you swear you’re dating.” She huffs, somehow not believing you. You roll your eyes, deciding not to continue and simply walk away. No one ever believed you when it came to your boyfriend of nearly 4 years, and he wasn’t helping his own case either. “I just can’t believe an idol would date you, I’m sorry Y/n.” You spin back to the older woman, rising to your full height. You were sick and tired of people looking down on you for who you were dating as if they had any clue what was happening. 

“It’s Doctor L/n, Nurse Choi. You may refer to me on personal terms when we are outside of this hospital, but seeing as you refuse to respect my personal life, you are no longer privy to it.” She blinks up at you in confusion before nodding. You can almost feel the shock she emits.

“Yes, Doctor.” 

“Room 1134, Patient Kim Seungkwan needs to be prepped for anesthesia. Dr. Song will be here in an hour.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” She bows to you before turning away. 

“And Nurse Choi.” 

“Yes,Doctor?” There’s a hopeful gleam in her eyes when you call for her again. 

“Tell that resident to stop crying, if he can’t handle being reprimanded there is no place for him in a medical field.” Her shoulders slump again, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty. 

“Yes, Doctor L/n.” With one last curt nod to her you spin on your heels, stalking down the halls to your office. 

You’ve barely gotten the chance to start your computer before someone is knocking on your office door. 

“Who is it?” You ask, annoyance clear in your voice. 

“Someone told me you’re having a bad day.” The voice of the young Chairman has you standing immediately as he walks in. 

“Chairman Yoon, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You bow, but he simply waves it off. 

“Come on, Y/n, it’s just us. What have I told you about bowing to me.” 

“Sorry Myungsoo, someone could have been behind you.” You chuckle dryly at your friend. “What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.” He holds up a small lunch box, waving it slightly. 

“I brought ice cream, but if you’re too busy I’m sure someone else will help me eat it.” 

“I’m never too busy for ice cream.” You relent, holding out your hands for the box. “And I guess your company too.” He takes the seat across from you, watching for a moment as you dig in. 

“So tell me, how come you’ve been such a bitch today?” His comment makes you choke slightly. 

“Yah, Myungsoo, what the hell?” 

“Come on, Nurse Choi’s upset, you yelled at a resident so bad he had to go home early.”

“He’s a crybaby.” You huff. 

“That’s besides the point. What’s eating at you?” You sigh, stabbing your spoon into your ice cream and setting it on your desk. 

“Mark.” 

“Huh, you’d think Mark eating you would make you happier.” His joke has your cheeks flushing instantly and you throw your napkin at him. 

“Yah! That’s not what I meant.” 

“What about Mark? I heard their tour ended a few days ago.” You clench your teeth slightly, recalling exactly what’s got you so pissed off.

“They got home last night, at least BamBam says they did, only Mark didn’t text, call, anything. I only found out they got back in when BamBam posted a selca.” “So you’re mad because he didn’t come see you?” 

“I’m mad because I’m fucking sick of it!” You explode, slamming your hand on the desk, making him jump. “He refuses to tell anyone we’ve been dating for almost 4 years, so everyone thinks I’m some delusional fangirl. He refuses to talk about the possibility of moving in together, we never go out when he’s in the country, and when he’s on tour I barely get a text once a week. He’s never met my friends or my parents and it kinda feels like he doesn’t even want to be in a relationship with me.” You finish your rant with a huff, raking your fingers through your hair. “He’s been managing to piss me off without even talking to me.” 

“Sugar, I don’t think you’re mad, I think you’re hurt.” He begins, setting his own treat down, “Anger is a secondary emotion.” 

“I know that, I did take psychology.” You grumble. 

“So what’s really making you so upset?” You cross your arms on the desk, hiding your face in them. 

“What if he doesn’t want to be with me any more? What if he just sees me as a burden these days and is trying to make me break up with him, so he doesn’t feel bad?” Myungsoo sighs, reaching out to rub your arm soothingly. 

“I think if you’re questioning the relationship, you should either talk to him, or break it off.” 

“I know, I’m just not sure if I’m ready for that. I really love him, you know?” 

“Chairman Yoon, we have a meeting sir.” A voice announces, knocking on the door. 

“You should go, thanks for the ice cream, and letting me vent.” 

“No problem, sugar, you should call him.” 

“I will.” The moment the door shuts behind him you pull your phone out of your bag, and pull up his contact. He doesn’t pick up, but you aren’t shocked. “Hey Mark, I heard you got in last night, I hope you’re doing alright. Look, I uh, I didn’t call for no reason. I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. There’s just so much missing between us, like,” You scoff lightly, “Like love. So yeah, I uh, think we should break up.” You look up to the ceiling, blinking back tears. “I get off at 11 tonight, if you want to call me back then. I doubt you will though, you never seem to want to talk to me any other time. Either way, I have Thursday off, you can come get anything you left at my apartment then. Bye.” You hang up quickly, before shutting your phone off and tossing it in your bag. You felt like sobbing, just finally crying and letting it all out, but you knew you couldn’t, you had patients to help, and they were the priority. 

Of course, by the time 10:45 rolled around, you were dead on your feet, your brain hurt and you were about 2 seconds from cracking open the emergency wine you kept in the fridge in your office. 

“Sir, I may not be a pulmonologist, but I can tell you that smoking combined with not exercising are a major factor in why your heart is damaged.” You insist, trying not to roll your eyes at the man as he scoffs. 

“I don’t think you’re qualified to talk to me about this.” 

“Sir, I’m-”

“Doctor L/n to Emergency Care, paging Doctor L/n to Emergency Care.” 

“Mother-” You cut yourself off with a huff, “Sir, while you are in my care, it is my duty to offer you medical advice. You need to cut back on the cigarettes or quit entirely. While you’re in this hospital you are not welcome to smoke unless outside in a designated area, with a nurse present. Good night.” You bow, quickly exiting the room before you lose your cool and punch him. 

“Doctor L/n, you’re needed in-”

“I heard,” You interrupt the resident who ran up to you. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s a patient. He was attacked by a mob. He seems alright but he refuses to leave without seeing you.” The kid explains, holding the elevator door for you.

“Is he having trouble breathing? Shortness of breath, chest pain?” 

“No, I haven’t seen his chart yet, but as far as I’m aware he only has a few cuts and bruises, if there are any internal injuries, it would likely be contusions on his ribs or-”

“Spleen, why on earth am I being called?” You’re racking your brain for some kind of answer when the elevator door opens. 

“Ah doctor, you’re here.” The head of the ER sighs, meeting you only a few steps away from the lift, “Good. This way.” She begins leading you down one of the quieter halls.  

“Jangmi, tell me you have some grasp as to why someone needs a cardiologist here right now.” You bite at the inside of your lip, completely lost as to why someone might need you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n, he’s insistent and he’s mentioned you by name several times. Besides I’d rather his company continued to send their idols here.” 

“Company?” You ask, just as she opens the door. “Who-” “Oh thank god, the good doctor is here, now will you stop being a baby?” A familiar voice asks, and your heart leaps into your throat as you round the privacy curtain. There, sitting on the bed, looking pitiful in the hospital clothes, was Mark Tuan. You have to bite back tears as you pick up his chart. He had several bruises already forming on the skin you could see, and a split in his lip. 

“Mark Tuan what the hell happened to you?” Blood pressure, normal. Pupillary response, normal. No signs of concussion or brain trauma. 

“Some sasaengs started fighting as we were trying to leave, Mark got caught in the middle.” Jackson explains, toying with the IV stand. “Hey what does this button do, Y/n.” 

“Don’t touch it, Jackson.” Your response is instant and almost habitual, having had to slap his hand away from your tools plenty of times. 

“I’m sorry, Doctor L/n, do you know these men? Personally?” Jangmi asks, noticing the way JB lingers at your shoulder and Jackson immediately stops toying with things. 

“You could say that.” You muse, “Your vitals seem fine, though your heart rate has gone up slightly.” You can’t help the cheeky smile that dances onto your face. No, you broke up with him. You set his chart back down, grabbing his chin softly to turn his face towards the light. “You’ll have a few bruises, but nothing your make up artist can’t cover.” 

“Y/n-”

“So you have any trouble breathing? Shortness of breath, chest pain, headaches?” You ignore his plea of your name in favor of the heart monitor next to him. 

“No I’m fine.” 

“Then why did you beg a cardiologist to come see you?” You snap, turning on him. “If you wanted to finally talk to me, you could have waited fifteen minutes. Instead you’ve wasted the time of not one, but two doctors, at least one of our residents and several members of the nursing staff. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What do I have to say? What about you? You broke up with me over a voicemail.” He shouted back, and you watch from the corner of your eye as everyone in the room takes a step back from the two of you. 

“Well if you ever pick up your damn phone when I call, I could have broken up with you like that.” Your voice is somehow level, despite how hurt and angry you are. 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.” Well, fuck, okay that was on you. “I didn’t want to run into you like this, but I figured ‘fuck it, you work here anyway’ might as well see you.” 

“So instead of waiting to be discharged and coming up to my department you worry me sick by begging me to see you like this? Do you know how scary it is to be paged down here? I was terrified someone’s heart had stopped beating, or I was going to need to perform an emergency surgery and I found you sitting here, beaten up instead.” The dam breaks, and the first tears begin streaming down your face. “The second I heard JB’s voice I was terrified I was about to have to save your life. After everything I told you about my work, about my fears of finding you on my table one day, how dare you use that against me.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Mark jumps up, pulling you into a tight hug as you cry into his shoulder. 

“You’re the worst.” 

“I know. I know I’ve been shitty. I should be taking you out and showing you off and I haven’t been. I’ve been so scared that Aghase might reject you, I never realized I was the one doing the rejecting. Please give me a second chance.” 

“Promise me you’ll change?”

“For you, in a heartbeat.” 

“Um, Dr. L/n.” Jangmi’s voice has you pulling away from Mark, wiping your eyes on the cuffs of your sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Seo.” You laugh, trying to calm down. “I’ll handle his discharge paperwork.” 

“Of course, Doctor.” She chuckles softly, offering you all a bow before exiting the room. 

“You really broke up with him over voicemail?” JB asks, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I was upset.” You defend. “I also yelled at several people and told one of my closest friend’s to go fuck herself.” 

“Well, I’m declining your break up attempt, you didn’t tell me directly, so it doesn’t count.” Mark decides, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you walk out of the room. Nurse Choi is standing immediately outside the door, discharge paperwork in hand. 

“Oh, Nurse Choi, I thought you were up in Cardiology still?” You greet. 

“Dr. Seo asked me to deliver this personally.” Her eyes are wide as she sees Mark’s arm around your waist and the other boys just behind you. “It seems I owe you an apology, Dr. L/n.” 

“Yes you do. I’ll take those.” She sets the clipboard into your outstretched hand with a bow, moving to walk away. You saw the slump in her shoulders as she walked away, and the guilt crept into your chest. “Before you go,” Your call has her turning back to face you. “Noon, Saturday, come have lunch with me? Please Jisoo?” The smile that erupts on her face is enough to make you feel better. 

“Of course, Y/n, see you then.” 

[multifanficss]

EMERGENCY ROOM( BTS X READER)-13

A/N: I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this, now that I'm officially on spring break ill try to update more this coming week. Here is Chapter 13 :) !!

Next-Day, Morning

Y/N's POV:

B/F/N has been stable all night, and hopefully, they can operate this morning. My patient, Jackie, is doing well and healing. They still haven't found her father and her mother is recovering from surgery and still has not woken up, She may have fallen into a coma but they aren't sure yet. I didn't leave the hospital all night and fell asleep next to B/F/N. I sat next to her and looked at how peaceful she looked. She always had a smile on her face and would make me laugh. Then I heard a knock at the door. It was Dr. Min and Dr. Jung, "Good morning Y/n, how are you?" Dr. Jung said. "I'm doing okay, are you both going to be able to go back in and finish?" I asked nervously. "Yes, and The chief will be there too as an extra set of hands. Do you have any questions?" Dr. Jung said. "What time will the surgery be taking place?" I asked. "In about an hour, mina and the other interns are in there right now prepping the OR and soon she will be heading up." Dr. Jung said. I nodded. "Don't worry Y/N we will do everything we can." Dr. Min said. They both nodded and left to prepare. While I knew it would be some time before they brought her up, I decided to go check up on Jackie.

I go to Jackie's room and saw her talking to Dr. Jeon. "Good Morning, Dr. Jeon," I said and he smiled. "Good Morning Dr. L/N, How is your Bestfriend doing?" he asked. "She made it through the night and they will be operating on her soon. How is Jackie doing?" I asked as I smiled and greeted her. "She is recovering well, You and Dr. Kim Taehyung did very well." "How are you feeling right now Jackie?" I asked. "I am feeling a lot better," she asked. Then Dr.Taehyung walked in, "Hi Jackie, Y/N, Jungkook," he said. Jackie smiled at him and kept wiggling her eyebrows as if he had to say something. Then he shook his head but when I made eye contact he just smiled and said, "Kids" I chuckled. "Well, I have to go now," I said and excused myself. "y/n, wait," he said. "Yeah did you need something,?" I asked. "No, I just wanted to ask how your best friend is doing," "She is doing..” That's when I heard the speaker saying code blue. 

Then we both ran in the direction everyone else was going. It was B/F/N room. "What happened?!" asked Taehyung. "I don't know she just began to crash." one of the nurses said. They began to help her. I just stood there, lost. Jungkook ran to the room and went inside. “I'll take over chest compressions, quick the paddles." He said and Taehyung did as he said. "Clear," Taehyung said. Nothing, "Alright, 300," they gave her medication and bumped it up. "Clear." Taehyung said. They waited for a second and got a heartbeat. "Tell Dr. Min and Dr. Jung that we are bringing up the patient now," Taehyung said. One of the nurses quickly began to inform while everyone including Jungkook took B/F/N to the O.R. I had tears down my face and hated that I couldn't do anything. I grabbed her things and brought them to my residents' locker. After I got to my locker I put them in there and decided to go back to my patient to check up on her.

Once I reached Jackie's room there was a man in there, "Hello, I'm Dr. L/N," I said as I took out my hand to shake his hand, "Hi I'm Jackie's Father, Peter" he said. "Nice to meet you. Last night Dr. Kim Taehyung, Dr. Min, and I performed surgery on your daughter and she happens to be recovering very well." I said. "How is my wife doing?" he asked as he held his daughter's hand. "She got through surgery and Dr.Min is waiting for her to wake up to evaluate how she will recover. and if her surgery went as plan. If you would like to see her, I can take her to you but I can't take Jackie just yet." I said. "What? why? I want to go see my mom." she said and began to cry. "I know but you can't be moving just yet, we have to wait a day or two. okay," I said. She nodded but had tears down her face. "Alright I will let you see her but you have to be brave," I said. That's where Dr. Kim Namjoon entered. "Hi, I'm Dr. Kim Namjoon, I was one of your wife's surgeons." "Jackie wait right here, I'm going to get you a wheelchair, then we will go see your mom," I said and went to get her wheelchair. I got back and set it up. "Alright let's slowly get you up, Namjoon get the iv bag please," I said. We got her up and she sat in the wheelchair. He got the iv bag and hung it on the pole from the wheelchair.

We got to the room and her mother was awake. Dr.Min was there. "Hello Dr., How is she?" her husband asked. "She is doing well and is expected to make a full recovery," he said. "Jackie you can stay here for a bit then we have to go back to your room okay," I said. She nodded and hugged me. "Thank you," she said. I patted her back and she smiled. I walked out and waited for Dr.Min. He walked out and smiled. "Yoongi, How is B/F/N? Is she okay?" I asked. "She did great, She is currently recovering, she should wake up pretty soon," he said. I hugged him and thanked him so many times. "No worries, Would you like to go see her?" He said. I nodded and he brought me to a room. There stood Jungkook and Taehyung. "Thank you," I said and hugged both of them. I had tears but was so happy. I turned to B/F/N, and she laid there slightly smiling and opened her eyes slightly as well. "Hey....I missed you.." she said. "Hey...I missed you too" I said. "I have to tell you...something, " she said. "Tell me tomorrow, when you feel better," I said. "No,... It's about your mom" she said. That's when my heart dropped. "What is it?" I said. she stayed quiet and said.

"She..."

[moonxvxsun]

aaaa i love the morning sickness one! id love to read the continuation :)

here is the second part! there can be a third part if there is enough interest in it. but remember this is all in the past all of this already happened. here is how Ryver and Myla first met!

TW: sexual assault, transphobia, not respecting pronouns, emeto

everything in italics is sign language

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

Ryver was broken, completely broken. Not only because all of this was the product of the night he'll never talk about. The night he can't forget about. The night that replays in his head over and over and over again. But because while he was transgender, he wasn't able to get the surgery and it wasn't even something that he was sure that he wanted. Despite that, he still hated all of his female parts, all the parts of him that gave people ammunition to invalidate who he was as a person.

Sitting in the exam room, he was having a full-on panic attack. His mental state was broken, completely broken. Once he ran out of energy he basically collapsed on the exam bed, crying himself to sleep. There was no way the hospital would let him leave, he was broken.

He was moved up to the psych ward and refused to talk to anyone, to eat, or sleep. He did nothing but just stare at the blank wall. He had to be given IVs to give nutrients to him and the baby.

"He's new, he's eighteen and he agreed to try this new type of therapy. Go in and good luck, if he doesn't respond that's normal, but give it time. He is also hard of hearing, but you're proficient in ASL, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Ryver was sitting in his room on his bed staring at the wall, he had agreed to try a new form for therapy thinking that nothing would work anyway so he didn't care.

"Ryver, hello. My name Myla Fitz, I'm a senior in high school and I'm volunteering for the new teen help program." A small girl in a white dress said as they walked into the room. Her voice sounded like the voice of an angel, Ryver couldn't help but turn to see the owner of the voice. Looking at her, he was sure that she was an angel.

"I understand that you've been here for over a month now and that you're three months pregnant." She said softly and looked up at him smiling, he had the cutest little baby bump and despite how sad and depressed he looked, he was gorgeous. "I know that you haven't talked to anyone since you found out you were pregnant and that you've dropped out of college. Can you tell me what you're feeling?"

Ryver just shook his head, but that was more than he's done in months. "Ryver, I understand that things are hard for you right now. And I know that you might not want to talk about you yet, so I'll tell you about me so you know who you'd be opening up to." Myla smiled as she sat down in a chair across from him and crossed her legs. "I had just been accepted to college, I wanted to go far away but I decided that our hometown college here was the best place for me to be. I'm actually pretty nervous about college, my twin Avi is also going to be attending the same college but we're trying to branch out our friend groups. But I'm glad to have my twin there with me, I always feel like I need to protect Avi...people have always bullied them and while I'm more dainty I would seriously hurt anyone who comes near them. Avi goes by they/him pronouns and is more masculine even though we are identical twin sisters. But I just call Avi my twin, I hope no one is mean to them...High school has been hard for Avi. They're actually the reason I joined this program, they were locked in their room refusing to talk to anyone until they found this program. They really helped Avi, I owe this group my life for saving them, I want to help people too."

"I became pregnant because a boy I liked asked me to go to a party at his frat and we started getting more... intense... but his friends were all hiding taking pictures and videos proving that I wasn't a boy..." Ryver finally spoke and signed his voice weak and tears were filling his eyes. "I go to the college where you're going, and I hope your twin never has to experience what I've gone through."

Myla didn't know what to do, they just wanted to run to Ryver and hold them and protect them. It was the same anger that they felt whenever someone was mean to Avi. "Ryver, I'm so sorry that happened to you, and I'm so proud of you for being able to tell me that." Myla signed back before she stood up and walked over to the bed and sat beside him and held out her hand. "I'm glad you could trust me Ryver, and if you're more comfortable, I'm fluent in ASL."

Ryver smiled, for the first time in months, he smiled as he looked over at Myla and grabbed her hand, and squeezed it before letting go and signing. I don't know what to do, I don't want to terminate Myla... but I'm only eighteen...

There's always adoption, but I know that there is a lot of thought that goes into this. But remember Ryver, you're not alone. You have the hospital staff and I'll be here to check in on you while you're still a part of the program.

Ryver just nodded, but the thought and anxiety of everything were overtaking him, along with the smell of his lunch that was being brought into the room. I feel sick... He spoke softly and a wet belch escaped his lips and his face dropped, he was so embarrassed. He couldn't focus, he was so embarrassed, and the anxiety of it all, he just burped again, this time a small stream of bile coming up and pouring all down his front. He barely had time to recover before his stomach lurched and a thinker stream of chunky green and brown vomit spilled all down his front. Myla didn't move, despite the vomit getting on the edge of her dress, she just stayed calm and rubbed his back.

Ryver had never been so embarrassed in his whole life. He had been throwing up every day in front of countless nurses and doctors but today was different, there was an actual angel before him and he got sick on her beautiful dress. But instead of being disgusted she just sat calmly and helped him pass his nausea.

Ryver, you're okay. Calm down okay, and take a breath, okay? Myla spoke and signed. She was internally thanking her twin for being obsessed with learning ASL.

Ryver just nodded but he was still feeling terrible. Though his nausea had passed, his whole body felt weak and that's not to mention how embarrassed he was about getting sick on Myla's dress.

I'm sorry about your dress...That was gross, I feel so bad...

No please don't apologize Ryver. I'll let you get cleaned up and I have to go change. But before that, I'll be back next week and we can chat again. I hope you can start to feel a little better and return to your normal life.

Ryver couldn't respond. It had been such a long time since he had felt so loved and cared for, even if was just a volunteer who he figured probably didn't even care about them. But he couldn't help how much this visit meant to him, and how cared for he felt.

What was he going to do? Was he going to actually go through with this?

[stellacolletore]

08.26.2020

oneechan, let’s eat! anime: chihayafuru characters: mashima rika, mashima taichi/ayase chihaya, mashima oligo, mashima reiko, oe kanade, komano tsutomu, nishida yusei, hanano sumire summary:  for Rika Mashima, meals with Chihaya-neesan is always something to look forward to. notes: zero spoilers (aka everything’s headcanon, compliant with the mizusawa series)

i.

Their first meal together is a memory she only remembers from a photograph.

She’s been staring at said photograph for a while now, initial objective in leafing through the old family photo album promptly abandoned. Accomplishing the assignment for character development class could wait; this surprise has to be dealt with first. ASAP.

Because no matter which angle she looks at it, the picture still appears like it’s taken from an alternate universe.

Admittedly, the notion sounds over-the-top for a simple snapshot of a supposedly normal lunch in the Mashima household from five years ago. Especially with their dining area remaining unchanged, pieces of chinaware retaining their meticulously-curated pattern on the cupboards. She and Taichi-niisan sitting on the same ends of the table. Truly, everything is familiar, except for one thing: Chihaya-neesan had been occupying the spot next to her older brother.

It’s not that Chihaya-neesan is a stranger to Rika that the discovery of her dining with them before is something wholly unexpected. Quite the opposite, actually―Rika adores Oniisan's then-best friend. Cheerful and always in the mood for playing whatever game Rika requests (much unlike her annoying Oniisan), Chihaya-neesan brightens his bedroom whenever she’s around.

That’s where the surprise comes from, though. In her memories, Rika has only ever seen Chihaya-neesan in that room―and for a reason both the Mashima siblings fully understand. Okasan can be intimidating. It figures that Chihaya-neesan would only breathe well once she’s well out of range of their mom’s trademark laser glare.

But this photo is solid proof that there had been a day―or were they days? ―when Okasan wasn’t Mrs. Pressure in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes. The wide-toothed smile of hers, perfectly matching Oniisan’s, reflects that well enough.

It’s also evidence that there had been a day―at least―when Chihaya-neesan wasn’t on the receiving end of her mother’s barely concealed disapproval. The corresponding serene smile on Okasan’s face in the photograph says it, too.

After snapping a picture of it, she excitedly heads upstairs to Oniisan’s room. Look, Taichi-niisan, she intends to say. Let’s have fun with Chihaya-neesan again. Don’t you miss her, too?

The doorknob is turned halfway when an unfamiliar voice from the inside cuts her motion short. “Ta-kun, when are you going to invite me to your house? It’s what normal boyfriends do, you know.”

Rika’s mind turns up blank fast enough for her to miss Taichi-niisan’s reply, before filling up with a sick sense of dread at the mental image that appears afterwards.

It’s the same one as the photograph she’s been holding minutes before, only that instead of Chihaya-neesan, it’s an unknown girl who’s smiling beside her brother.

Rika’s not in the least surprised in finding out how she doesn’t like the image. At all.

ii.

You’ll be paying for this, Taichi-niisan’s glare tells her. You’ll be thanking me for this, Rika’s playful ones reply.

The doorbell rings, and in a flash, Oniisan’s expression switches from embarrassed annoyance into embarrassed anxiety. Her mischievous expression slips, too―she’s not that sadistic, after all. Of course she’s also feeling nervous about this. But nervousness is expected, nervousness is normal, when she’s about to meet the girl who says she loves her older brother...on livestream internet. For anyone to hear, including her classmate’s sister who happens to attend Mizusawa High School.

And really, if Rika Mashima hadn’t taken it upon herself to share this information to her Dad, who a) loves a good love story and b) loves his son so much that every milestone of Oniisan is treasured by him, then wouldn’t that just be sad? And totally not fun at all?

“Ara, ara...Who could that be? Taichi, would you please answer the door?” Otosan’s eyes are already gleaming with childlike mirth. Oniisan, cheeks turning more and more crimson by the second, rushes to the doorway.

Yep, this is going to be fun.

From the kitchen Rika hears her Okasan’s chiding. “Oligo, would you please give our son a break before he and Chihaya-san skips this lunch altogether?” The plates she’s carrying make an unusual clinking sound as they meet the glass table. Huh. Even Okasan is tense about this whole ordeal.

Chihaya-neesan finally arrives, sheepish as she was confident during the Queen Matches a week ago. She stutters a greeting. “Ko-konnichiwa, M-Mashima Oligo-s-san. Mashima Re-Reiko-san. R-Rika-chan.”

Otosan sends her a warm smile, once again making Rika feel thankful that her Dad’s one of the kindest Dads in the world. “Hisashiburi, Chihaya-chan! Congratulations on your victory! But before all that―come, Reiko has prepared for us a wonderful lunch.”

Lunch is indeed wonderful, going above and beyond Okasan’s insane standards by all means. From the seat across hers, Taichi-niisan is no longer giving her threatening glares, his own metaphorical plate full with awkwardness and concern for Chihaya-neesan who looks just as helpless herself. She keeps on avoiding Okasan’s line of sight and cutting up steak without ever putting it in her mouth. Rika snickers. Chihaya-neesan hasn’t changed a bit.

Heart warm at the thought, she decides to play the adorable little sister role and throws them a lifeline.

“Chihaya-neesan, Akane-chan―my schoolmate―has a sister who also goes to Mizusawa. She says you and Oniisan are really awesome , creating a karuta club and winning tournaments immediately after! I think so, too. They’re awesome, ne, Otosan, Okasan?”

Rising to the bait, words of praise immediately follow, much to her brother and Chihaya-neesan’s continuing shyness. But somewhere in between Otosan inquires about the process that went into the club’s making, and Chihaya-neesan begins to respond more confidently, with the subject of the conversation not being her but her friends. Taichi-niisan pitches in bits of information, too, and Okasan listens with a surprising, but definitely not unwelcome, level of rapt attention.

Soon enough, they find themselves laughing at the quirky tales of Mizusawa Karuta Club (Rika’s personal favorite was the one where they went head-to-head with Chiba International School, whom they first thought were foreigners, only for Taichi-niisan to reveal that they were Japanese people who hadn’t ever been overseas…).

Amidst all the merriment, Rika finally notices something.

Chihaya-neesan is giving Taichi-niisan an inexplicably fond look whenever his own eyes aren’t meeting hers; that is, when he laughs. Rika realizes that she hasn’t heard Oniisan laugh like this for a long, long time, and, judging by that loving twinkle in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes, she feels the same and is just as grateful for Taichi-niisan’s new found happiness as Rika is.

Maybe it’s due to that look that neither Otosan nor Okasan brought up Chihaya-neesan’s post Queen Matches speech, or asked them about the status of their relationship and its implications on their future.

She’s got a feeling that those questions hold no importance anymore.

iii.

Sure, she might’ve an older brother who’s basically the stuff of shoujo mangas, but there are days when Rika wonders if she could trade him for a sister.

After all, an older brother won’t rush to your school after dismissal, begging you for a trip to the mall. (“It’s an emergency, Rika-chan! Help me!”) An older brother wouldn’t ask you about what a boyfriend would want for a first year anniversary. (To which Rika would answer, “Definitely not another set of karuta cards.”) He’s the last person you would rather be talking to about high school girl problems over coffee and cake at Starbucks. (“It’s so easy for you, Onee-chan. You’ve liked each other from the start.” “Easy?! You call all that easy?!”)

But as Rika parts ways with Chihaya-oneechan after a hectic but enjoyable day and goes home where Taichi-oniisan greets her (“I heard you went shopping with Chihaya. Did you have fun?”), she’s finally made up her mind.

It’s useless to think about trading his brother anymore. Not when she already has both.

iv.

Taichi-neesan hasn’t popped the question yet, but Komano-san―nee Kanade Oe-san―is already crying.

Waiting in a classroom like the rest of them, Nishida-san remarks, “Kana, you’re supposed to cry after Chihaya. After!”

“Well, I apologize if my tears cannot bear to wait a moment longer after having done so for fifteen years. ” Komano-san wipes her tears with a handkerchief her husband passes to her. Behind his eyeglasses, his eyes are moist, too. “I think three years in high school is already a long time. But Mashima just had to add med school years on top of that.”

Hanano-san, already wearing a gleaming engagement ring of her own, is also on the verge of breakdown when finally, her phone rings. “T-that’s our cue, guys!”

Rika, with emotions equally unstable as her brother’s lifelong karuta friends, grips at the box of cake she and Okasan have spent all night baking to perfection. Altogether they head out of their hiding spot and towards the Mizusawa Club Room, where Oniisan has just finished asking Oneechan a question that is, indeed, fifteen years in the waiting.

As soon as they enter the room, Rika is treated with a sight that surpasses every joyful moment she’s ever encountered thus far. Chihaya-neechan, in her classic karuta get-up, surrounded by the cards she’s spent most of her life loving, crying openly on the crook of Taichi-niisan’s shoulder. Oniisan, one arm placed lovingly around Oneechan’s waist, welcomes them inside with the brightest smile she’s ever seen him wear.

Needless to say, Rika’s exhausted the limits of her handkerchief after that.

Later on, when everybody’s calmed down a bit and Oneechan is finally convinced by Komano-san that, yes, this is not a dream, Chihaya-chan, Rika hands her a slice of the gift she’s brought.

And finally, finally, gets to say the words she’s been longing to say:

“Oneechan, let’s eat!”

[bxthharmon]

White Butterflies pt iii. || Hvitserk Lothbrok x Reader

 Words: 2028

Warnings: Mentions of arranged marriage, drowning, (veiled threats?)

Summary: An owl’s cry is bad luck

A/N: Ah, took a couple of days, sorryyyyyy

i | ii | iii | iv | v

This story doesn’t follow the plot, so you don’t have to know the story to understand it.

“Princess Y/N” Bjorn greeted you, “Come with me, Ivar’s going to announce the raids.”

“Firstly, we can stop with the titles, I’ve been here almost two months now, we’re friends, no?” you grinned, and he nodded, beckoning you to join him on the path to the hall, “and secondly, since I am no shield-maiden, do I really have to have my afternoon spent watching men argue and shout over their mead?”

He laughed, “All the same, you are a member of the family, and I feel that you should find out, I wanted you to know earlier, but Ivar refused.” you frowned, curious, but followed him into the Great Hall. You picked out your husband and Ubbe in the crowd, greeting them and kissing Hvitserk on the cheek.

Ivar called for the attention of the hall, and the room fell silent. “People of Kattegat,” Ivar started, “I have called you all here to announce the destination of our summer’s raids.” the crowd cheered enthusiastically, spilling ale in the process, “Now, I understand that you all have been asking for the last few weeks, and I’ve come to my decision. We’ve fallen out with plenty of countries, and so I feel we shouldn’t take on more than we can handle, no? That is why, in a moon’s time, we will be travelling to the home of my dear brother’s wife, Y/N.”

Cheers went up around you, but Ivar and Hvitserk kept their eyes on you, watching for a reaction. Standing there, you realised that your mother had done an amazing job on training you to keep your emotions private. You stood there, straight-faced and calm, but internally panicking.

“Brother,” Ubbe said, “By doing this, you breach the terms of the agreement one that you signed, it would be unwise to do such a thing. They have a large army, a strong one, have you considered that it would not be so wise?”

“We have the largest army in the world,” Ivar said, a cheer went up, “And we have an inside woman, no?”

Stares turned to you, and you sighed, stepping forwards. “My king, it would be an honour to help you in this attack. Though I must admit, women were not told battle plans and such where I come from.” 

“Well I suppose you’ve just got to tell us all you know, hmm?” he said, as if he expected nothing less. 

You walked away, full of panic. You did not care for your family, your country or its people - there wasn’t a single good person in that court - but you were worried. If your father found out he would try to get to you - contact you or hurt you - he would do anything to turn you back to your old country. He would expect it. You had no doubt he would hurt the people you were close to, maybe even kill them, if it meant you helped him. You felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N,” said Hvitserk, “Are you okay?” you turned abruptly to face him.

“My family is many things, but they are not high-minded people.” you said, “I have seen both cultures, and you, as vikings, in the way you fight, you are honourable, and honest, but they will stab you in the back, they will poison you and manipulate you to meet their own ends. Their army is smaller, but they will find out our strategies and plans. To do this, we would have to fight in the least viking way possible.”

Hvitserk stared at you, and you continued, “Ivar is punching above his weight, and I don’t want to watch a futile battle. I’ll help, but don’t expect me to support this. I don’t love them, but I also don’t want this to start a war, and by doing this Ivar is starting a war that I don’t think he’ll win.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp and exited the hall, inhaling the cold, fresh air.

“Y/N,” Arthur greeted, and you looked up from your embroidery.

“Arthur,” you forced a smile, “What brings you here?”

“Theodore.” he says, and you frowned lightly.

“What’s Theo done?” you said, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Theodore told a servant girl that you were… courting… a boy from Lord Jackson’s court.” he sat down in front of you, and glared into your eyes. You held the stare, swallowing the fear induced by the glint in his eyes. Like he was mad, like he would kill you. “Now,” he began, drawing his dagger, and holding it to the light, “You are young, too young for betrothal, but in a couple of years, no doubt, once you’ve got your monthly blood, you will undoubtedly marry. And you know, our family is the most important thing.” he lifted the blade so that you could see your face staring back at you, “so we can’t have you marry some unimportant, good-for-nothing Lord in one of our own courts, can we?”

“Mother said-”

He pushed the flat side of the blade against your collar bone, the edge cold metal threatening to twist and slice your skin. “Mother knows that you will marry to form an alliance, and if you stray from the path that your father is building for you, then people will get hurt, and you are too kind to let that happen.” the blade twisted, and drops of blood trickled down your skin.

“Thank you for your counsel, brother.”

You’d known then that everything he’d said was true. You’d spent your whole life preparing for this marriage. You’d learnt Frankish and German and Latin fluently, and could just about get by in at least four other languages, so that you could speak to any foreign suitors and handle visitors to your court. You’d learnt to write, read, sew and embroider so as to have reputable skills to help in your life. You’d learnt manners and etiquette to impress suitors. You’d been taught how to veil threats, hide emotions, and test other’s certitude.

You had been prepared for it, yet when it had happened, you couldn’t have been in more shock. You had been thrown into a world with different Gods, customs and celebrations. You already understood and spoke the language, but were nowhere near fluent, and struggled to keep up with conversation, especially given the refusal to teach any language relating to another religion.

You felt out of your depth.

*

You stood on the docks of Kattegat, the sea stretched out before you, turbulent and stormy. The waves rising metres into the air, and winds cold and harsh against your skin, biting and clawing at you. The swell of the wave was noticeable from the moment it entered the fjord, rising and surging towards you with purpose. You wanted to run, to get out of the way, but your feet were stuck, you couldn’t move. The wave only seconds away from hitting, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

As the impact hit you, you were blown away, floating in the undercurrents as water took the town as its own. The wave pulled back, and you were swept away, out of the fjord, and into the endless waters of the sea. Your lungs screamed for air, but you couldn’t tell left from right, up from down. The depths gave you no means of escape, and your lungs were collapsing, you were sinking. Forced by the water, your mouth opened, and water filled your lungs.

But you did not die.

You hung there, in the middle of the sea, breathing water. You pulled yourself forwards through the water, your eyes wide open, stinging, but seeing. You pulled yourself through the water, and realised that you suddenly knew how to swim. You felt yourself begin to relax and felt your guard drop. You regained your bearings. 

But then the water became a mess of fangs and scales and blood and you were disorientated and hurt again. Panic filled your system and you pushed yourself away, trying to escape the huge writhing body that was thrashing all around you. You found yourself watching the thing from a distance, before you saw its eyes.

Evil, red, hateful, they caught you in their gaze, growing bigger, more vicious, bloodthirsty and hunting. You saw its fangs, pale and sharp and full of venom, its scales smooth and perfect. This - this thing - was a monster, a beast, made for murder and hate and unspeakable deeds. It was hunting.

And you were the prey.

The mouth of the serpent came close so quickly that if you shut your eyes you would have missed it. It was so big that for a split-second you realised it would swallow you whole, and you were as small as a mouse is to a bear.

You were going to die.

Air filled your lungs as you sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, panting. Everything was blurred and all you were aware of was your breathing - shallow, quick and ragged - everything else was unclear.

You felt faintly aware that someone had sat up next to you and you could feel their arm over your shoulders, pulling you into them, stroking your hair, kissing your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay? Y/N, tell me what happened, talk to me, me heart, talk to me.”

The murmur pierced through your dumb state, and everything came back into focus. You could feel tears streaming down your face. You brought your attention to Hvitserk, whose face taught with concern, eyebrows pulled down to a frown, his eyes, dark and strong, but he too looked scared witless, on the verge of tears.he took your face in his hands, “My Princess, tell me what happened.”

“I, uh, I was at the docks.” your speech, you realised, was broken. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever been in front of someone, “and there was this - this wave. It was coming towards me, so fast,  and it seemed… almost, I don’t know, angry. It flooded all of Kattegat - the whole thing - and took me with it back out to sea. And I was trying to hold my breath - obviously - and I don’t know how to swim, so I was panicking. But - but I could breathe.”

He frowned, “Underwater?”

“Yes, it was like I was breathing the water itself.” you sighed, “But then, just as I got my bearings, this huge thing came and it was, like, thrashing,  around me. I - I got away, but this, giant, huge… snake, I think, it saw me. And it looked like it wanted to kill me, for no real reason. And it surged towards me, it was so big that it fully, like, I don’t know, it consumed me?” you looked at your lap, and felt tears falling.

“Hey,” he looked into your eyes, “hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. But do you know what this means?”

“No,” you said, “I’ve never had a dream like that before.”

“You could breathe underwater, that means you have Njord’s favour.”

“Njord?” you asked, despite how you were trying to learn about the Gods, you didn’t know them all. 

“The God of the Sea, and the Wind, and of Trade.” He explained. “We should tell the others of your dream, it’s important.”

“Important how?” you asked.

“Important because we want to have his favour for our sails to your land.” he kissed your nose, lightly. “It’s daybreak anyway, come to our meeting with me later, help us out.”

“For you,” you kissed him, and then left the bed, calling a thrall to help you dress. Hvitserk left quickly, kissing your cheek and assuring your attendance to the small war council. 

You went to the yew tree before the council, and prayed. You prayed for family, but not family that shared your blood. You prayed for the family whose home you lived in and whose success depended on you. You wondered what had become of Theo, and if your family was still healthy, and you questioned if you wondered this out of love or curiosity, and if they thought the same of you. Somewhere, in the distance, an owl called.

tag(s): @soleil-dor @siliethkaijuy

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part ten) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±6500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part ten: Y/N is about to go on an adventure. Good thing she has her friend Jo to help her pack and her crush Dean to guide the way. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: The Man With The Harmonica - Ennio Morricone, Hide And Seek - Gareth Dunlop (end scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

    “Wait, you’re not planning on bringing all that with you, are ya?”     Y/N’s eyes leave the three pairs of boots from which she still has to choose. Not to decide what two sets to leave behind, but which to wear and which to pack. Jo stands in the doorway of her tiny room, staring at the bed, which is covered in flannels, shirts, tops, several hats, jeans, jackets, sweaters, towels, socks, matching underwear, swimwear, a makeup bag, and a toiletry bag. Even a hair iron and of course her phone charger lay amongst the collection of items that one way or another are going to have to fit into her bag.

    The season is coming to an end now that September has reached its final days. It’s time to move the two-year-old horses down from the summer reservation. Bobby had asked his intern if she wanted to come along and of course she blurted out ‘yes!’ before he could even finish his sentence. She was so excited about the trail ride and started packing immediately. This is going to be quite an experience, especially for a show rider like herself who usually sticks to riding in a fenced arena.     It’s a good thing that she started gathering her things early, because she has been contemplating what to bring for over an hour now. She’s the kind of girl who pays extra for exceeding the luggage weight limit on her flights, so no wonder she’s having it tough choosing what to bring.

    A little helpless she looks over at Jo, who’s waiting on her response.     “I was planning on bringing this, actually,” she returns, hesitatingly.     “Damn… poor horse,” the blonde cowgirl comments, eyeing all her friend’s stuff.     “Too much?” Y/N assumes.     “Just a tad,” Jo scoffs as she walks in. “And what the hell are you bringing the entire electronics store for?”     “It’s just my charger and my hair iron. I will look like birds are nesting on my head if I don’t straighten this out,” she objects, holding out the strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail.     “And you can’t have that with Dean around.” The ranch owner’s daughter crosses her arms in front of her chest, knowingly frowning at her friend.     Y/N tilts her head and glares back, but fails to come up with a decent counter, because she’s not wrong.     “Shut up,” she mutters instead.     “By all means, pack it.” Jo shrugs as she turns back to the door. “But unless you tie a generator behind that horse of yours or find a cactus with a plug, you ain’t charging a damn thing.”     “Wait. What?” Y/N responds, confused.

    Jo sways around, her blonde braid hanging down from one shoulder. She narrows her eyes, trying to understand how her friend could be so oblivious to the fact that there won’t be any electricity where they are going. “What did my old man tell you exactly?”     “That we might have to spend a couple of nights out camping,” Y/N recalls, trying to remember his exact words.     “Have you ever been out camping, city girl?” Jo wonders, her tone indicating that she has figured it out.     Now Y/N crosses her arms defensively. Just because she comes from a wealthy family, doesn’t mean that she has never been on a trip back to basics.     “I have, as a matter of fact,” she returns confident.     “Let me define ‘camping’,” Jo kicks off. “I’m talking ‘bout the sleeping-in-a-tent, no-shower-for-days, cooking-your-own-food-above-a-fire kind of camping. Not the kind where you park the luxurious double axle camper nice and close to the restaurant and the power station and get that satellite working as soon as possible so y’all can watch Netflix.”

    Y/N opens her mouth to claim that she is not that kind of person, but has to admit her loss. She’s right, down to the double axle camper and the satellite TV.     “So, no electricity? No shower?” she asks, intimidated by the matter, a trace of panic in her voice.     “Nope,” Jo confirms, amused. “Better start prioritizing. Let me get my saddlebags, you can use those. Everything that doesn’t fit in there except for your sleeping bag, is not comin' along for the ride.”     “Alright,” Y/N agrees reluctantly, nonetheless grateful for the help. “But how are you going to pack if I have your saddlebags?”     “Simple: I’m not. I’m staying home,” the ranch owner’s daughter says.     Astonished, the intern looks at her. Wait, her friend isn’t coming on this trail? The thought actually scares Y/N a little, because Jo has been there to guide her since she picked her up from the airport over a month ago.     “Are you kidding me? Why?”     “Someone has to run this joint while y’all are having fun. Usually, the stable crew guards the castle, but with Ash gone…”

    Y/N drops her head, her mind going out to the former cattle worker. Ash left a week ago. Bobby gave him two weeks' notice but said he was free to go anytime. The loyal employee showed character and stayed as long as Bobby could afford to keep him. But after those fourteen days, Ash had no choice but to leave. Everyone was sad to see the quirky fellow go. The exchange of hugs between him and every member of his working family was moving to witness.     “Dad offered to stay behind by himself, but he’s getting too old to work that hard,” Jo explains. “Garth and I will make sure everything runs smoothly here.”     “What about me? How am I supposed to function without my conscience?” Y/N pouts.     “You’ll be fine. You got Dean to hold your hand the entire way,” Jo mocks.     The worried cowgirl chuckles. “That’s the whole problem now, isn’t it?”     Jo gets up and intends to leave the room to get the saddlebags. She halts in the doorway, though, offering good advice. “Just remember: don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”     “He’s your cousin. Of course you’re not going to sleep with him,” Y/N returns smartly, pulling a laugh from the blonde cowgirl.     “See my point?” she returns, winking back before she leaves the room.

    Thirty minutes later, Y/N is packed and ready, but sacrifices had to be made. Obviously, the hair iron and phone charger didn’t make the final cut, but neither did her shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer, since she won’t be able to shower anyway. Her makeup didn’t fit into the bags either. It hurts to leave it all behind and she already feels insecure about spending days with the others wearing a blank canvas of a face. Sure she isn’t as fresh at the end of a working day as she was at the start of it, but so far she has been able to keep her hair and makeup in check. Now she won’t even have a mirror to judge how tired and ordinary she looks without a brow pencil and mascara.     “You’re all set.” Jo, who is on her knees on the wooden floor fighting with the saddlebag, secures the last strap, shifts her weight back on her heels and places her hands on her narrow waistline.     “I owe you one. I would have never managed alone,” Y/N says, appreciating her friend’s help.     “You know you can count on me.” She shrugs it off after getting up. “I’ll lend you my raincoat and my gloves too. Never sure if you’re gonna need ’em, but if the monsoon decides to throw a curveball at ya, you’ll be thanking me.”     She pops out of the room again, as excited for the intern as Y/N is herself. Jo’s bubbly personality has her smiling even after she leaves. It’s funny how it feels like they have known each other for years and yet it was only a month ago that she got into the pickup truck at the airport. One month ago, this challenge started. Her dad tries to hide the surprise in his voice every time she phones him to tell him how much she is enjoying her time here. He probably expected a plea for money. That, or a one-way ticket back to luxury and easy work.

    Y/N looks at one of the pictures that she nailed to the wooden wall. It portrays her family; Mom, Dad, and her three brothers surrounding Y/N at her graduation ceremony. Sure, she misses them, but she is starting to become a part of this ranch family too. That’s how it feels anyway: accepted, wanted… even loved. Her eyes hover over the picture frames and other decorations that she used to spice up her room a little. Many of the photos show Meadow, some snapped during shows, others at home in the fields. Won belt buckles and ribbons are trophies of their success together, each memory a highlight of her partnership with the special Quarter mare. Y/N remembers when she won every single one of them.

    “You’re not getting homesick, are ya?”     She startles, jolted awake from her daydream, and turns her head to face her handsome supervisor. Dean leans against the doorpost, and judging by the amused expression, he has been standing there for longer than a second. Dear Lord, she got so caught in recalling past victories and happy memories, that she didn’t hear him walk up to her room. The sight of him has her lost for air, even after recovering from the scare. He stands on one leg, the other bent and crossing his back foot, resting on the nose of his boot. Fringe from his worn chaps fall down over his jeans, a dark brown Stetson to match it. Dressed in a red plaid buttoned shirt and a denim jacket over it, he looks even better than he did this morning. The handsome models in the old Marlboro commercials have nothing on him.     “Don’t worry. I’m not going back anytime soon,” she responds before Dean can call her out on staring. “Besides, this is beginning to feel a lot like home, too.”     The wrangler glances at the wall next to the bunk bed and lets his eyes roam over the photos, ribbons and buckles. He smiles at a goofy picture of her and her three older brothers.     “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he compliments.     Y/N smiles at that. “Well, I am going to be staying here for a while. Might as well make it cozy.”

    He grins, his green eyes catching the rays of sunlight coming through the window. Specks of gold stand out amongst the apple green, his pupils adjusting as they flick over the captured moments. They stop when he notices a photo taken during a prize-giving ceremony. He recognizes Meadow instantly, her trademark white face is hard to miss. She stands proudly with a white and blue sash hanging from her neck, event sponsors standing next to the horse, presenting the prizes won while smiling at the camera. But the person who smiles the brightest is Y/N, who sits squarely in the saddle with a wide grin on her face and sparkles in her eyes.     “You won the State Championships,” he says impressed, reading the footnote. “That’s pretty damn impressive.”     Y/N lights up but stays humble. “Meadow was on fire. It was the ride of my life.”     “I bet it was.” Dean watches her for a second, admiring, while she reminisces over the highlight of her riding career. Then he glances at his watch briefly. “We leave at ten. You’re all packed?”

    “She is now,” Jo interrupts, holding out a rolled-up sleeping bag and neatly packed raincoat. “Gloves are in the pockets.”     “Thanks, Jo.” Y/N takes them and looks over her shoulder in search of her saddlebags. Dean instantly moves in to pick them up, since she has her hands full anyway.     “I got it,” he states, lifting her luggage over his shoulder.     “Oh, how noble of you!” Jo teases her cousin, not at all impressed with his manors. “What are you gonna do next? Buy a white horse?”     Y/N snorts, but quickly straightens her mouth into a thin line to silence herself and hide the sign of amusement. Luckily, the wrangler is too busy countering her friend, as he follows the two girls into the living room.     “It’s called ‘being nice’. You should try it sometime,” Dean snarls.     Before the ranch owner’s daughter pushes open the front door, she looks over her shoulder. “Would you like to hold the door for her too?” she suggests, a challenging smirk on her face.     “Would you like to shut your piehole?” Dean fires back after rolling his eyes.

    Y/N giggles at the bickering, and opens the door herself by pushing it with her foot. If she didn’t know any better, she would think the two are siblings. Maybe not by blood, but they spent a great deal of their childhood together in the same house, at least that’s what she understood from Jo. Over the years, the youngest Singer figured out that she might not be able to beat her older cousin when it comes down to strength and speed, but verbally she stands her ground just fine. Now is no different, because Dean might have had a comeback ready, Y/N doesn’t fail to notice the color on his cheeks. He carefully glances at her from under his hat, the cowgirl smiling back reassuringly before she descends down the stairs.

    At the tack up area, the Joshua tree stands tall, offering meager shade to the horses and humans underneath its branches. It’s rush hour. Benny and Garth are readying the horses, assisted by the three riders that are coming along for the trail. Dean was against bringing people along on such a long and potentially dangerous ride, but Bobby said the tourists paid good money and were experienced, so eventually, he agreed. Eight horses are tied up to the rails around the yucca tree. Six of them will be ridden, the other two will be the group’s packhorses. Y/N spots Joplin amongst them, the feisty mare that has grown on her over the past weeks.     “She’s yours for the next couple of days.” Dean points her out, heading over to the dark horse with Y/N’s baggage. “Since the two of you get along so well.”

    Delighted, she faces the mare, who pushes her soft nose into the folded raincoat in her arms, sniffing up the aroma. Y/N likes the little dark horse. She is not easy, has different ideas about what the pace should be, and can get very offended when her rider tells her otherwise, but there’s something about her attitude that the intern appreciates. She’s fast, tireless from the second her rider puts a foot in the stirrup, to the second he or she gets off. The Quarter is perfect for a trail like this. It didn’t cross her mind to bring Meadow for the ride. The reining horse, which is used to train on smooth arena footing, would most likely injure herself on the uneven rocky slopes and narrow paths. The hours under saddle would be much longer than regular training too, and Y/N does not want to confront her four-legged best friend with a task that she isn’t up for.     Dean swings the saddlebags over Joplin’s back and straps them to the saddle. He mounts the sleeping bag and Jo’s raincoat that he takes from the intern on top, his fingers briefly brushing against hers in the transfer. The tingling sensation lingers on the surface of her skin where he touched her, causing her to be the one who is flustered now. The wrangler carefully glances over as he secures the baggage. She feels caught, but his expression is soft and comforting; he felt it too.

    “Okay, y’all! We’re goin’ in five!” Benny shouts loud enough for everyone on the square to hear with his Southern accent thick on his tongue. “If you have to use the john or forgot to pack clean undies, now would be your last chance to do so.”

    Last preparations are made by the crew. Benny secures his lasso to the horn of the saddle with a leather rope strap, while Dean consults his uncle one more time before departure, the two of them looking at a map of the Superstition Mountains. Then Dean folds the map and shoves it into the inside pocket of his jacket, after which he walks over to Ted Nugent, the big brown gelding that he will be riding for the upcoming days, since his favorite buckskin is out with a tendon injury ever since that rainy morning when the cattle broke out.  Ellen walks up to her nephew and hands him a paper bag which, without a doubt, contains something delicious.     “Made you some pecan tassies for on the road,” she says. “Wouldn’t want you to miss my baking too much.”    “Thanks, Ellen.” Dean gives her a grateful nod and puts the tassies in his saddlebag.     “Be careful out there, alright?” she presses, clearly worried about the quest that lies ahead for the wranglers. “Bring them back home safely.”     “I’ll take care of the bunch. I promise,” he assures comfortingly, gently pulling her into his chest after which he gives his aunt a kiss on her hair.

    Ellen and Dean aren’t the only ones who exchange a few last words before the group leaves.     “Okay, grasshopper. This is it,” Jo’s voice sounds from behind Y/N.     She spins on her heels in between the horses to meet the ranch owner’s daughter, who folds her arms around Y/N and hugs her tight. Happily, she returns the embrace before Jo pulls back and holds her by the shoulders.     “Stay away from chollas if you don’t want Joplin to turn into a two-year-old who never had a saddle on her back before. And if the horses get nervous and you hear a rattle, get the hell out of Dodge, because there’s a rattlesnake within a few feet from you. Check your–-”     Y/N cuts Jo off, because she has heard this before from either her or Ellen.     “I know, I know. Check my boots for spiders and scorpions before I put them on and keep the tent closed,” she fills in.     “Not just to keep out insects and reptiles, but horny cowboys as well,” Jo adds.     Y/N snorts. “I’ll handle him. I will miss you, though.”     “I’ll miss you, too, sis,” her friend returns, smiling.

    They say goodbye while Dean unties his gelding and gets on swiftly, overlooking the group from the higher point of view.     “Y’all ready?” he asks the company of six.     When the riders cheer, he takes the reins with one hand and pulls it gently towards him, an aid for Ted to backup and move away from the other horses. The excitement rises noticeably, comparable to what one would feel when on an aircraft just before take-off and on its way to a new destination. Some of the animals start to get restless in the thrill, Joplin included. Y/N doesn’t waste any time and pulls the safety knot in order to free the mare, then puts her left foot in the stirrup and pushes herself off the ground with her right, swinging it over the back of the black horse.     “Good luck, y’all,” Bobby wishes the six men and women.     “See you in a couple of days!” Jo calls out.

    Y/N waves at the people staying behind, a bright smile spreading from ear to ear. Looking forward to the adventure that will come next, she straightens herself in the saddle and faces the vast landscape. She might be twenty-four, but she feels more like a seven-year-old going on a field trip. In front of the rider, a pair of alert ears belonging to Joplin point forward. Beyond that view, the promontory of the Superstition Mountains stretches out. The sun has risen from behind the ridges in the East hours ago, already warming up the valley with its strong rays.

    Dean watches the young woman, consumed by a different kind of scenery as his horse follows the path. In the past few weeks, she has grown more comfortable in her role as a wrangler and a ranch hand. The daily routine is starting to become her second nature and the people she works with are her friends now. He wouldn’t have guessed it at first - and he’s quite sure she herself wouldn’t have guessed it either - but she fits in perfectly. The rich girl from upstate with a master’s degree under her belt feels at home surrounded by a bunch of country folks in the dry desert lands of the south west. Who would have thought that? Dean smiles, content; something tells him that this trip will help her blossom even more.

    She could almost hear a harmonica play the theme from Once Upon A Time In The West, and she’s still waiting for tumbleweed to roll across the path. Cacti reach for the sun, their arms outstretching upward, like the giants are growing actual limbs. It’s a nice variation to the evergreens that she is used to, back in Maine. The rain that came down two weeks ago has laid a blanket of green over the dry lands; it’s amazing how nature can change in a matter of days. Jo warned her about the sun, and with good reason. Over the last month, the intern slowly but surely got used to the extreme weather circumstances that Arizona offers, but she has never been on a horse during the hottest hours of the day. It might already be late September, but the heat is blistering. She could use a shower right about now, and just the thought of not being able to take one for the next couple of days grosses her out. The temperatures weigh on the female rider, more than she thought it would, but her partner Joplin doesn’t seem to mind much. Her neck and shoulders are sweaty, but she still dribbles impatiently every now and then, eager to cover more ground.

    Dean leads the group, guiding them from spring to spring. The group left the Hieroglyphic Trail about three hours ago, which ended at a small creek and a poor excuse for a waterfall. They took a break there and had a few of Ellen’s delicious pecan tassies while the horses drank. Now, they are well on their way to Willow Spring, but the trail isn’t getting any easier. As they conquer the steep slopes, the pace slows down. Y/N is amazed at how the horses are able to maneuver on the rough terrain, which consists of loose pebbles, slippery boulders, and cracked volcanic rock. One misstep could severely injure the large animals, but they seem to be aware of that. Joplin proceeds agile and fearless, almost like a bobcat, and her rider learns quickly to let her take care of the drops and jumps. She doesn’t need guidance, the mare knows the way. All Y/N has to do is sit tight and move along with her to maintain the balance.

    “How y’all doing back there?” Dean is looking over his shoulder, his free hand resting on the cantle of the saddle.     “We’re good!” one of the tourists assures.     His name is Brad, the young guy riding next to his sister Macy and their buddy Jonathan. The head wrangler chatted a little bit with the three members of the group and they turn out to be good company. The trio is traveling across the country, enjoying a gap year from college. With Brad and Macy’s father being a rancher in Colorado, they know their way around horses. Jonathan is a little less experienced in the saddle, but he’s managing just fine. No doubt about it, though, that he’s going to be left with a serious muscle ache in the coming days.         The leader of the pack shifts his eyes from them to his intern, asking her the same question silently. She nods, smiling reassuringly at her handsome supervisor, telling him in the same language that she’s doing fine. Content, Dean smiles back and winks at her before he straightens himself.     It’s a good thing he’s not facing her anymore, because Y/N is sure that about a hundred butterflies hatched from their cocoons in her stomach, the feeling triggering her to take a shuddering breath. She huffs, annoyed with the response he triggered. Just look at him. He’s infuriatinglygorgeous, looking way too good on his horse, in those darn chaps, wearing that darn western hat. A part of her wants to dislike him, just for being so distracting. But she can’t be mad at him, not really. Just a glance her way with that grin and she’s a complete goner. Y/N watches as the cowboy catches up with Benny, slowing his horse down when they are side by side.

    “Tell me, Chief, how are things between you and the intern goin’?” the Southerner wonders, making sure the woman in question is unable to pick up on the conversation.     Dean looks aside at his best friend, amused by his curiosity. “It’s not going anywhere, really. Things are good as they are,” he claims.     “Oh, c’mon, now. Did she turn you down again?” Benny guesses.     Dean eyes him. “She didn’t turn me down. I just didn’t make my move.”     The wrangler next to him seems to need a second to process the information. Dean Winchester didn’t make a move on a girl he likes in 0.2 seconds? That’s a new one. “Wait a minute. So you two haven’t even…?”     “We’re just friends, Benny,” Dean claims, aware how terribly unconvincing it sounds the moment he pronounces the words.     “Horse shit. You didn’t pass up Casey to be ‘just friends’ with the gal. You called dibs,” he reminds the head wrangler. “Besides, I see the way you look at her. You don’t look at a pal like that.”

    Dean shakes his head, remembering the arrangement well. It’s not like he can deny he made that deal with the farrier, despite that it felt wrong to do so. But back then when he claimed her in order to keep his notorious friend away, he was still clueless about the affection he felt for her. The affection that steadily grew stronger to the point where he cares more about what’s best for the free young woman than what he wants for himself.     “So what, Benny?” He shrugs, hoping his friend would let it go.     “So what? I know it’s a little dusty here in the desert, but did you get sand in your eyes?” Benny returns, perplexed.     “Look, I know she’s awesome, and yes, I wouldn’t mind hooking up with her, but I can’t, okay?” Dean claims.     Unable to understand the math behind his choice, the broad-shouldered ranch hand throws him a look that somewhere between dirty and confused. “Why not?”     “Well for starters, Bobby will kill me if he finds out, since he took me aside to specifically forbid me to pull anything. Secondly, she’ll only stay for six months--”     Benny interrupts him, however. “Invalid, Chief. Bobby told you before to quit bouncing around with clients and staff and it never stopped you then. And since when is six months too short for you? You usually get bored with your lady friends after a--”     The cowboy from the South stops mid-sentence and Dean can almost hear it click in his mind. Oh, boy. Benny has figured it out. Even though he tried to make up excuses in order to avoid being confronted by his best bud, there’s no way of dodging that bullet now.     “Well, fuck a goat and call her Nancy! You’re in love with her,” Benny announces, shocked.     Dean raises his eyebrows at the rider next to him, then scoffs and looks away, trying to act like the very idea is ridiculous. “That’s - that’s just… Y-you’re insane,” he stutters, unable to flat out deny it.     Benny starts to laugh out loud, apparently very much amused with his discovery. “I can’t believe you walked straight into that love trap!”     “Would you keep your voice down?” the rider next to him hushes.     The farrier looks over the back of his horse at the intern, but she’s about thirty yards behind them talking to Macy, clueless what the two wranglers leading the group are discussing.     Dean stays quiet for a few long seconds, trying to decide if he is ready to admit that she means so much to him. “She’s a nice girl, Benny. I don’t wanna hurt her,” he claims.     “Oh, c’mon now! You’re seriously telling me you grew a conscience all of a sudden? You used to love ‘em and leave ‘em without a second thought.” Benny has crossed his wrists over the horn of his saddle, the reins loosely between his fingers, as he looks aside to catch anything that would indicate what’s going on in his best mate’s head. It’s clear that he’s astonished by the shift in his demeanor.     “I’m gonna ignore the urge to ask you who you are and where my friend is,” the Southerner chuckles. “But is it really just her heart you’re scared to break?”     Dean ponders, trying to make sense of the odds and ends that scatter his thoughts. Benny is not entirely wrong. It terrifies the wrangler to give in to these emotions. Is that maybe the true reason why he didn’t kiss Y/N that night under the Joshua tree? Or when she came looking for him after he had that argument with Ash? Maybe it’s a bit of both.     “How long have we known each other? Fourteen, fifteen years now?” Dean recalls.     “Give or take,” Benny confirms, looking down at the trail as he moves his hand over the mane of his horse in order to steer it a little wider around a boulder.     “Do I seem like the kinda guy who does that? Fall for a girl? I liked the way things were, no attachments and all that,” the head wrangler continues, confused.     “That’s the thing about falling in love, Chief. It happens to the best of us and always at a time when you least expect it. It hits you like lightning and you’re toast before you even got a clue why you’re feelin’ so crispy,” Benny says wisely.

    The head wrangler glances at his companion sideways, reading into his words. It almost sounds like the Southerner knows what he’s talking about.     “You’ve been there,” he realizes.     “Oh, I’ve been there. I’ve been beyond falling in love, I loved her with my whole damn heart,” Benny acknowledges, smiling at the memory. “Her name was Andrea. We were both eighteen. She spent the summer with relatives in Louisiana and I was a lost cause from the moment I laid eyes on her. A Greek Goddess, and I ain’t exaggeratin’. She was pretty as a peach! Kind, funny as hell, too.”     “Since she’s ain’t here, I reckon it didn’t end well?” Dean assumes again.     “It didn’t; she went back to Greece and I moved here because everything reminded me of her at home,” his friend tells him.     “You know you just proved my point, right?” the head wrangler says, a hint of triumph in his voice trying to mask the sadness in his eyes. “If love always comes to bite you in the ass, why even bother?”     “‘Cause the heartache ain’t the clue, brother. What I had with Andrea was so good, so pure, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Even if I knew what I know now, how it would end, I would take that plunge again without a doubt in my mind.”     Dean huffs, unable to believe that. “Despite that she left you?”     “Fuck, yeah,” Benny states. “Better to love and to lose, than to not have loved at all.”

    Dean is quiet now. The path narrows and he holds Ted back a little, merging behind Benny’s horse. As he lets his friend’s words sink in, he glances down the slope at the intern again. She’s several yards down the steep hill, focused on Joplin as she rides her up the trail. Her braided hair already has strands peeking out from under her hat, and he is sure if she had a mirror she would fix the mess, but he loves it. He loves it when the wind rustles her locks, or when the desert dust smudges her skin. Once again that feeling overcomes him, the feeling of a lantern being lit in the pit of his stomach, warming his body as it slowly rises through his core to his chest, where the heat lingers. It feels so good, but there’s a catch to the sensation. It comes with the emotion that creeps up on him when he lays awake at night thinking about Y/N; fear. The fear of her leaving him after her internship. The fear of her reaction if he would let her witness the scar tissue that lays thick on his soul. The fear that this love will consume him, just like the love for Mom consumed his father. The fear of failing her. But now that the true meaning of Benny’s message dawns on him, another kind surfaces. It’s a thought that he hasn’t had before, and as it pops into his head, the question reverberates louder through his mind than all the others. What if he misses his chance? What if there are only so many opportunities to win her over?

    He straightens himself before she looks ahead and spots him staring, and he closes his eyes and tips his hat forward. Shit, you’ve been so worried about losing her that you forgot that in order to lose her, you have to have her first, he thinks to himself. A sigh slips from his dry mouth, reminding him how thirsty he is. He reaches for his water bottle from his saddlebag, pulls out the cap with his teeth and gulps down the water, knocking his head back as he takes a few swigs. Nope, he’s not dehydrated. In fact, he’s still having these contradicting thoughts. When he slips the bottle back where he took it from, his eyes wander down the path again, this time looking straight into hers. As he tries to decide on his next move, he holds her gaze as she smiles up at him. Dean wasted two shots already; what if it’s three strikes, you’re out? If he fucks this up, at least he tried, but if he won’t give this a try at all, he’ll beat himself up over it for the rest of his life. Either way, failure seems to be inevitable.

    Then he remembers something. Something that he was taught at a very young age. He had just turned four when he took a fall off the neighbor’s Shetland pony. It was the first time he had rode alone without his mom holding the miniature horse and the naughty pony took advantage of that situation. The Shetland picked up speed and bucked once, sending him straight into the dirt. After making sure that her son was okay, he recalls his mom picking him up.     “You wanna give it another go?” she asked.     “No…” he said.     “So that’s it? You never wanna ride again?” she questioned again, her voice gentle.     Now he was quiet, not sure how to answer that. “I don’t wanna fall off,” he mumbled eventually, looking down at the ground.     “Falling is a part of riding, sweety. It’s a part of life. It’s okay to fall,” she told him.     “But it hurts,” he said, rubbing his scraped elbow. “And it’s scary.”     “Yeah, sometimes falling can be very scary,” Mom acknowledged. “But you won’t get any better if you stop trying. You have to face what you’re scared of, to grow. You know what they say about falling?”     He shook his little head, waiting for the elaboration patiently.     “You have to fall off seven times before you'll become a good rider,” she says.     “Seven?!” he repeats, eyes wide.     “Seven,” Mom pointed out. “But you know how he becomes a great horseman?”     Dean shook his head again and listened eagerly. All that he wanted was to become a horseman, so this was the time to pay attention.     “A good rider becomes a great horseman when he falls seven times and gets up eight.”

    The wise words always stuck with Dean as he grew older. He remembers when he was twelve and got back to his feet after his seventh crash landing, this time from a young bronc. He was a horseman now, because he got up beaming, and brushed the dirt from his jeans. Every time when life beat him down, he did the same. Sadly, Mom wasn’t there to see her son become a horseman. She was long gone by the time he reached that age, but her life lessons will never be forgotten. Life is filled with setbacks. No one walks this journey without encountering them. For some that one setback is enough reason to give up and never become good at anything, for others, it’s a way to push through. And yes, getting up and trying again is not easy. But Mom taught him to look fear in the eye and get back in the saddle anyway, because quitting will definitely not get him anywhere. Whenever he hit the ground, literally or metaphorically, he would think of that memory. Now is no different. Mom was right; he has to face what scares him in order to grow.

    Dean slows down his horse, pulling the bit just enough to stop Ted, giving the horse behind him a chance to catch up. When Joplin comes alongside, he glances at the rider from under his Stetson.     “Hello, Cowboy,” she greets, a small but delighted smile on her lips.     Dean chuckles at that, his eyes not leaving hers.     “Hey, beautiful,” he returns.     The compliment brightens her eyes even more and heats up her cheeks. The trail barely allows the two of them to ride side by side, their stirrups touching occasionally. He aches for her knee to brush his like he would crave rain after a long desert ride. When the denim of her jeans does rub against him, it leaves him electrified. And then he realizes that Benny is right, too. It is better to love and to lose, than to not have loved at all.

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

Read part eleven here