#ive been thinking a lot about the cowboy au and how its more of a spaghetti western and not just a simple ranch hand vaqueros au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calmingpi · 1 year

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Some more hall of tuesday stuff~

Specifically, some thought processes and concepts. Yes, I know its Wednesday, but I got too tired + didn't feel well last night to type all this out

I'm noting the design process of this one, because while writing a Tarvek thing the other day it occurred to me that I have a habit of getting attached to characters that follow some philosophies that have become attached to lolita fashion- the dislike of ones true personality, using consumerism and extravagant tastes to fill a metaphorical hole, hiding negative traits beneath literal layers of cute clothing, presenting a personality thats within specific ideals of elegance and refinement, the concept of feminine androgyny, etc

Tuesday the first

Anyway, this outfit was inspired by Baby The Stars Shine Bright

Streamer Tarvek

I can't even possibly explain why i drew this to begin with, partly because i dont actually remember. But i love this au SO much. I wrote a whole bunch of these that i never ended up finishing. Heres a couple of them

Tarveks streams are not gamer related; its more of a commentary stream but really he talks about whatever he wants. Often hes prompted by questions from the viewers, that causes him to go on extreme tangents about whatever. History, politics, pop culture, math, literally whatever. It's also not a popular stream in the grand scheme of things. He doesnt market or promote this thing at all, but he has a small and very dedicated fanbase of very strange people. In general tarvek likes having an audience and not having to act really put together and refined. Instead he can infodump to strangers and not worry about impressing people too much. And he can wear cat ears and feel only a little bit silly instead of a lot

Girl Watching With Colette

Tarvek is married to agatha and gil in this, which i believe ive mentioned, and i think ive also mentioned that he pretends the stream doesnt exist to them. They dont bother him about it, but they do watch it and regularly comment. I think hes just embarrassed about having a goofy internet outlet, and they just really love watching him excitedly talk about his interests

This was another one from the original prompt list, called "girl watching with Colette." They're sitting at a little teahouse, i think. There's a sequel prompt called "Gil watching with Colette," where Tarvek is holding a large pair of binoculars and absolutely SEETHING with anger while Colette is laughing. Otherwise exactly the same setting

Unforgiven

Before this blog, one of my first Tarvek drawings is a picture of him dressed as Nayeon from Twice. I also remember a picture I did of Lars in a Love Dive inspired outfit being complimented a lot on here, lol.

Anyway, this one was inspired by the concept photos for Unforgiven by Llesserafim. I think concept photos are a really cool form of art in general. Art direction. Needs more recognition, really!

This one was based off the "fallen angel" style of photos they did, but they also have this weird "office cowboy" style of photos? From the same album? I have no idea what that was about, but it's really funny to me. There's a horse loose in the office space. He's using the copier. I didn't know he knew how to do that. Anyway, maybe I should do an office cowboy Tarvek, too. Ive drawn him as a cowboy before, and it was really fun

I Still Feel Alive

This is actually my favorite tuesday, which is funny cause it was just coloring practice, really. But my favorite bit is really all the just. Amount of stuff i shoved in there. We're on castle wulfenbach, hes been stabbed and poisoned (dw about it), hes drinking the vaccine gil made from his notes, weve got his favorite clank girls (which by the way i unfortunately love that we have tinka without a head and anevka without a body), his weasels of course, agathas portrait (because whos office is this, really?), we've got the portal to the eldritch monster dimension out the window there, and an apple tree!

I drew Tarvek with a lot of apple themes for a while, as a reference to his condescending snake description. Its kind of funny 2 me to think of agatha and gil as adam and eve (dont ask which is which. I dont think it particularly matters, tbh), and tarvek as the evil snake, because i think its exactly how hed see himself really. Whether hes actually an evil snake or not. Token evil teammate, awful seductress, yadda yadda yadda. Really, aggie and gil arent innocent either, which makes it funnier 2 me

Godqueen

I really love the idea of tarvek as a godqueen (or godking, i just think godqueen suits him better) because he was originally supposed to be killed off in sturmhalten. He could always still be killed off, which would be very disappointing because i think we would have wasted a lot of time then. Or he could live and things would be as expected. Or we could go the funnier route and make him literally immortal. That would be hilarious to me!

Also, im pretty sure gils going to be storm king. And with agatha as the heterodyne + probably a godqueen, and gil as storm king and the only one whos graduated college, i believe tarvek should be allowed a little immortality. Or maybe financial compensation. As a treat. Make it harder for bang to bully him

Looks wise, godqueen tarvek is based on what he keeps shoving agatha in (sidenote: that is NOT anevkas dress. Can you even imagine her in that? That is his dress. I dont think he wore it, but its definitely tarveks). When it comes to dresses i always put tarvek in something really flowy and needlessly gaudy. But suits and pants should be a tighter fit. A lot of the design inspo is wizard of oz based, particularly ozma. In a lot of illustrations she wears these very loose fitting gowns, and often very simple crowns and a few specifically placed flowers

His crown is also little storm clouds. If gil was a godking hed have little lightning bolts, but i think gil shouldnt be a godking. He can already lift tanks. But if he was, hed have little lightning bolts. Theyd match!

Tuesday Anniversary

First of all, i love painting. Like i love it SO much. Ok, cool

I wanted Agatha in the picture right off the bat, but originally I was going to draw them dancing at Albias ball. I drew this, discovered i drew them facing the wrong way, scrapped it, and then crab anons drink got spilled on them, so it was not meant to be. Also, frankly, i think the impact would have been all wrong. I wanted a kind of "what tarvek wished had happened" kind of thing and instead i think it just keeps bringing back how gil and aggie danced together. And really i wanted something special for just agatha and tarvek, since i tend to do so much gil shipping with them. Its been a while where ive drawn them something of their own

So i kept thinking about tarvek and agatha ideals, from his perspective. I went back to his "when im an evil overload and agatha is my sexy dark mistress" idea, but decided to go for a more likely scenario. So this is sometime in the future, and hes happy being able to walk her down the hall for whatever it is theyre doing. Theyre in Castle of course (with the little wall hangings from the game! I love those), and shes let him dress her up in one of his flowy dresses. His outfits still really similar to the one from the ball, which is also really similar to the one from sturmhalten. I think its just a design choice he likes, so i kept that up. Agatha also has two rings, because this is a moment to themselves but theyll never stop loving gil, really

#hall of tuesday

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xdandelionxbloomx · 5 years

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Modern AU idea continued

(part 1) (part 2)

(CW: cancer - not terminal and no character death)

Jaskier’s visual album starts with the sounds of a hospital--

It fades in from black to a scene of the edge of a hospital bed, the distorted sound of a doctor’s voice overlaid with ringing, making it indistinguishable--

A shot of paperwork, in and out of focus - an IV, Jaskier’s fingers tapping the arm of his seat, walls white and clinical around him--

And then there is the inside of a car, Jaskier’s head leaning against the window, eyelids drooping and heavy with exhaustion--

The sound doesn’t match as he cleared his throat, tried to speak - it’s a recording of when his voice was at its peak worst, rasping, breaking, scraping out of his throat--

Unsteady humming as Jaskier lifts his head from the window, overlaid with wrecked humming, and his own voice now, changed, not and yet himself--

“And I wanted to tell you someday-” Jaskier’s voice filters through the mess, and it quiets behind him as the car comes to a stop and Jaskier climbs out, leaving the sight of the camera--

“I kept telling myself - someday I would, but - suddenly those days were numbered and--”

A sigh.

The shot changes to Jaskier’s shoes, the dirt and dust the SUV kicked up swirling around them--

“I could only think of you. So I went to you and still, I could not tell you.”

Geralt’s arms wrap around his shoulders and Jaskier presses his face to his shoulder in the midday sun, hands gripping loosely at his shirt--

And then the shot is changed--

Jaskier is standing there in the same position, identical, but it is a dark room, empty--

Fog swirls about his feet--

His hands are achingly empty--

And Jaskier wraps his arms around himself and sings--

Sings about how his love slips through his fingers like smoke, how time slips through his hands like sand, how he can hold on to neither--

Sings about the agony of watching the years slide by, unable to reach out and grasp, unable to hang on--

Jaskier dances with an invisible partner, knocked to his feet, pushed onto his side, collapsed on the foggy floor--

He struggles to his feet, reaches out, and suddenly it’s the same shot before, and in a blink he’s back in Geralt’s arms, fingers loose in his shirt, forcing himself to step back with a wobbly smile, voice cracking on the last note of the song--

“Cancer is a scary word.” Jaskier whispers over a shot of Geralt cooking dinner, strong hands handling the knives with ease Jaskier will never possess--

“It’s strange because you’ve known your body all this time and suddenly you don’t - you feel like you’ve stepped into your childhood home after someone else has moved in, or after it’s been abandoned. You recognize it, but not really. It’s yours and it’s not. You don’t understand, but it’s happening and you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

Jaskier enters the shot, leaning up against the counter and smiling crookedly at Geralt, the camera panning over to focus on his face--

His smile falls when Geralt looks away from him, his eyes sad, searching the man’s face, running over his profile--

“And I swore I’d tell you before the time ran out. I didn’t know when that would be, but I’d tell you. And I think, maybe, I kept putting it off because I felt selfish for it.”

Jaskier looks away and pushes off the counter, steps past the camera--

Geralt turns to look after him and suddenly--

Jaskier croons a soft, slow, and sweet song about a man who smiles like the sun, a man with honey gold eyes, a man with calloused hands he wanted to hold--

Geralt stands in the evening, nearly grey hair painted yellow as the sun began to dip, eyes the same as they glance at the camera--

A shot of hooves as they cover the grassy ground of the pasture, called in for the night--

Jaskier croons about standing so close, of touches and shared laughter, of yearning and it being okay because he knew--

The man with honey gold eyes cared in his own way, showed it in his tolerance for too many words, in his gifts, in the way he cooked dinner for him always--

Geralt guides the horses to their stalls, feeds them, shots of his hands working stall doors shut--

And Jaskier--

Jaskier watching from the door of the barn, leaning up against it with a glass of water in his hand, Geralt’s hands waving him away any time he tried to help--

Jaskier turns to walk back towards the house and he stumbles--

The glass hits the dirt--

And suddenly he’s in that black room again, expression empty as the glass splinters, water spreads across the floor--

The song dissolves into acoustic plucking, Jaskier making the strings work for him as if they were a voice, too--

“You didn’t understand. I didn’t either, really. I don’t really tend to be an angry or bitter man, not truly. Resigned at times, perhaps, but not furious. But I was on the bad nights, when my voice wouldn’t come. When it felt like shards of glass in my throat. It felt like the world was keeping that, too.”

Jaskier crouches, pokes at the pieces of glass--

He picks a piece up, opens his mouth, sets it on his tongue--

“I thought a lot about what I might have done differently.”

The shot is the same, but it’s in the kitchen, Jaskier pressing a piece of strawberry to his mouth instead.

“I kept thinking that I should have told you. A long time ago, I should have told you - before I left to tour, maybe. Earlier than that?”

Jaskier grins at their dining table, the shot changing to the plate of strawberries before him, sliced into manageable pieces by Geralt--

“I almost did, once. We were sitting on that shitty apartment’s couch - you remember that apartment. I swear it haunts my dreams sometimes. I was picking out whatever filled the cushions through the hole worn on the right side and I watched you rant about one of the rich clients that boarded their horse at the ranch. I wanted to kiss you so much.”

A sigh.

The shot changes to Geralt rolling his eyes, but smiling as well, absently tucking his hair behind his ear - the shot slows for a moment, the motion examined--

“I didn’t. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Jaskier’s next song is more upbeat, though it picked up pace slowly.

This is all metaphors, sunflowers reaching for the light, rocks smoothed by a river--

It’s all what Geralt did to him, does to him--

How he does not know but he makes Jaskier better at the same time that he aches--

Jaskier rides a horse here, tacks her up, rides alone--

He pauses to watch a bird sing, before taking flight, wonder clear on his face--

A shot of Geralt reaching for Roach, her muzzle bumping his hand lightly--

The song ends abruptly, and it’s suddenly just Roach standing there, flicking her tail boredly, ears swiveling about as she listened.

“You asked me to stay.” Jaskier whispers, in the same tone that he talked about cancer.

“And I did. Of course I did. But I knew you were afraid even if you wouldn’t say it. And I couldn’t tell you, but I think you knew, then. I think you knew.”

Jaskier breathes in and then--

I love you more than the my ribs can hold, he strums the guitar gently--

It’s a tender love song about a cowboy who went grey early, who liked his coffee with milk and sugar on good mornings, who had warm hands--

It’s the single that he released originally, but a bit slower, a bit softer here in the context--

And it’s the porch, the stars, rocking chairs, a glass of whiskey, a glass of water, hands gesturing, smiles, wrecked looks, a guitar--

Snippets upon snippets of all the little things that Jaskier loves--

“They told me I was cancer free on a Thursday.” Jaskier confides, over the shot of a rising sun.

“I laughed at first, and then I cried. It didn’t feel real. And I didn’t want to go back to the spotlight, not yet. I had missed you. Missed the domestic. You asked me to stay, and you didn’t tell me to go so I didn’t. I worked on getting better. I worked on processing that I didn’t have a finish line anymore. At least one not right in front of me.”

Jaskier stands in the black room.

Fog swirls around his feet.

The sound of Geralt’s voice, muffled, floats in from the right, and then the left, surrounding--

“And more than anything in the whole world, I wanted to tell you. And I did. That all of it was for you.”

Jaskier runs--

He runs for the far side of the room, braces his shoulder, breaks through a door that wasn’t visible before--

The ranch sprawls before him and Geralt startles a little where he stands on the front porch--

The door of the little ranch house flung open as Jaskier pants at the threshold, eyes wide--

Jaskier sings something more powerful than the rest, reaches for Geralt, wraps his hands in his sweaty shirt--

He hadn’t taken his evening shower yet--

The light paints them gold--

Jaskier’s voice breaks on the big note and he leaves it in because this whole album is imperfect, things are wrong, but it’s his story and it matters--

And he sings forever--

He catches his breath after the song is over, strong arms wrapped around him, pressed against Geralt’s chest--

“I didn’t know you read poetry, but you did for me, one night. It was by Mary Oliver.”

A shot of Jaskier’s scratchy, loopy script--

A shot of papers spread across the floor--

A shot of Geralt pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he navigated the mess--

“And I’m terrified to release this. You haven’t even heard all of the inbetweens. But, cowboy, I keep thinking of your voice when you read it. How the final verse sounded on your tongue--”

Geralt’s voice overruns his for a moment, a gruff thing, low--

“Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.”

It’s a bit monotone, a bit straight from the page, a bit stiff, unused to being recorded, but it’s there, it’s his voice, it’s clear--

“And so I’m going to sing and tell the world about it all because life is too short for anything else.”

Jaskier’s last song leans towards his old pop records, bubbly and bright, but it’s acoustic, stays true to the sound--

And there’s smiles, and boots, and breakfast--

There’s Roach, and some of the other horses, flashes of kids and trail rides--

Geralt’s cowboy hat--

Jaskier stealing said hat--

Geralt yanking him in by his belt loops to kiss him--

The sun rising--

And the visuals fade to white from the light hitting the camera--

Jaskier dissolves into humming the upbeat tune, a sound that turns into bright laughter and a muffled--

“Geralt.”

Tracklist:

Time (Like Glass Is Fragile)

Honey Gold Pt. 2

Earthen

My Ribcage (You Live There)

To Breathe Once More (For You)

Who Do I Thank For Cowboys?

Runtime: 35-45 minutes

#modern au #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the visual album I imagine #idk man it Hit Me #my posts

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dwaynepride · 4 years

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the unfortunate case of nonchalance

PART V - BLOOD WAS OUR INHERITANCE

summary: jethro’s heart is pulling him two ways, and it’s hard to navigate the right direction.

words: 3,335

warnings: female reader

tags: @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty @pageofultron @stanathanxoox�� @kittenlittle24

author’s note: part 5 of the cowboy!au series. this is a part of meg’s 11k challenge. the prompts are cowboy au and secret relationship trope.

part IV | part VI

March 7th, 1889

Once again, I am a wanted man.

The botched bank job was nearly five days ago, and I’ve felt every single second of it. Anthony’s wound is worse than I feared - Doctor Mallard is doing all he can, but I know that man. His hopes are not high. Anthony’s got a fever and he still bleeds from time to time.

That boy is strong, but even I’m starting to worry.

And we can’t leave while Anthony’s so weak. Everybody’s been packing up, ready to turn tail, but a journey may very well kill Anthony, if his infection doesn’t.

I know my thoughts should be on finding a way to leave, but they’re not. Not all of them. When it’s quiet, I find myself wondering if Y/N is safe. She was far from the shooting, I know that. But that doesn’t stop my concerns.

I need to make sure she’s alright; that’s the only way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything else. I’ll ride to her home at night and no one’s gotta know I was back in town.

Plus, I feel that maybe she’ll help get my head on straight.

The night is so silent, Jethro barely lets himself breathe.

Even taking the long route all the way around the outskirts of town, he was nervous. Every shadow, every noise had him instinctively reaching for his pistol. It was some sort of miracle that he hadn’t run into any law yet, but seeing the pure white paint of your home made Jethro’s stomach tight.

All the windows were dark, except for one. A candle flickers on the windowsill; its light is warm and inviting and it draws Jethro in to search for you. Though, with his luck, your bedroom would be on the second floor.

His footfalls are silent against the ground. He still keeps a hand on his pistol, but Jethro’s eyes are locked on the candle in the window. He reaches the house, leaning his back against the wood. And slowly, carefully, his head creeps forward to peer in through the window.

His eyes take a moment to adjust to the light, but the image he finds when Jethro looks in makes his heart tight. There, on the bed, you’re laying with a book in hand. You haven’t noticed him, too focused on reading, but Jethro’s just pleased that he’s found you so easily. He’s already been in town for too long.

A hand comes up, and he gently knocks his knuckles against the glass. Instantly, you jump, eyes wide as they flicker up to look in his direction.

That look of recognition makes this whole journey worth it.

Jethro sees his name leave your lips, and he quickly motions for you to come outside. You’re reluctant, he can tell. And he can’t really blame you, neither. But again, he beckons you out. Eventually you nod, and he watches you scurry out of your room.

His hands curl into fists, and Jethro reminds himself to breathe. But try as he might, he can’t seem to calm himself. Five long days of wondering and worrying, only to find you home; safe and sound and reading a book in your bed. Now, he just wants to talk to you. Hear your voice and simply be in your presence.

After what feels like minutes, the back door of your home finally squeaks open. He hears it, and Jethro immediately moves toward the back of the house. And there, in the light of a half-moon, you’re standing there looking at him and Jethro suddenly can’t remember how to use his own words.

“Jethro,” you breathe out. It’s almost inaudible, but he catches it. And when you run up to him with open arms, he catches you, too. You smell of wildflowers and Jethro’s instantly taken back to that day by the river. When you kissed him softly and he felt your lips for days after

That feels like a lifetime ago.

“I’m okay. I’m right here,” he mumbles. And Jethro’s not afraid to squeeze you just a little too hard. God, as much as he says he’s been worried about you - he’s missed you a hell of a lot more. As crazy and scary as things have been the last few days, this is the first time Jethro feels a sense of normalcy. Like everything is suddenly right in the world.

He wants to stay in this hug forever, but you’re the one to pull away. And when Jethro looks in your eyes, he doesn’t find the happiness he expects to see. He isn’t barraged with questions of if he’s alright or what happened or if everyone was safe.

Instead, you step away from him. Still within arm’s reach, but no longer holding him. “The bank...all those lawmen....Jethro...?”

His eyes fall away. Perhaps Jethro was naive to think you wouldn’t have questions about the heist. Perhaps he was stupid in thinking your happiness to see him would somehow overshadow why he did what he did. But that explanation would take too long and Jethro simply wanted to be here with you.

Your face was taut. Unmovable. And he knows you deserve to know who he is.

His thumbs trail over your forearms, grip still tight in case you decide to pull yourself from his grasp. “I’m not exactly who you think I am, sweetheart,” he says lowly.

You look confused - as if not properly understanding what he means. “You’re Jethro Gibbs,” you tell him firmly. “You came into town with your friends-”

“My gang,” he cuts in. And as your eyes go wide, Jethro’s gaze falls once again. “We aren’t just moving into town, we came here to hide. We....we did some bad things out West. Things that I regret.” The words felt like poison on his tongue. It felt like every syllable was just pushing you farther and farther away from him. But Jethro finally looks back up, watching your shocked expression. “Things that got Shannon killed, and ain’t been ‘till now that I wanted to change. My gang’s not quite there yet - they’re still convinced we gotta rob folk. The bank wasn’t my idea.”

Finally, you wrench your arms out of his grasp. And your eyes had gotten harder. Almost angry; it’s the first time Jethro’s seen you like this. Not even at the saloon when the barkeep threatened to call the law on him. “I have a hard time believing you didn’t know anything about it, Jethro. They’re your friends,” you bite out. Jethro’s never felt quite so small. “My father works there. What if he’d been-”

“My people aren’t killers.”

“And how should I believe you? Seems like everything you’ve told me is a lie. Is your name actually Leroy Jethro Gibbs, or is it something you’ve made up?”

Jethro is silent for a moment. “You think I can make up a name quite so ridiculous?”

You huff and turn away from him to walk back into the house. Truthfully, that smartass comment was reflexive, and Jethro’s kicking himself for saying it. “Hey, hold on,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your hand. And you try once again to pull free, but Jethro’s much too strong. He comes around to face you, eyes intense and serious and you even stop struggling when you meet them. “Not everything’s a lie. I do care ‘bout you - a whole hell of a lot,” he says softly.

He can tell that makes you think. The way you watch him, reluctant to believe him, but also wanting to. And God, Jethro wants you to. His stomach’s painfully tight at the thought of his foolishness being what drives you away.

And his fears are realized.

This time, when you pull your hand back, he lets you go. “You’re an outlaw, Jethro. A criminal.” Your voice is so hard, so harsh against his ears, that Jethro can’t really believe that he heard it.

But he’s not stupid nor deaf.

“Well, you let this outlaw teach you how to shoot, sweetheart. And better yet, you kissed a criminal. Don’t act so high, like your hands are clean.” The words are sharp and terrible, he knows. He spits them out with the poison on his tongue and Jethro’s too angry to feel bad about it.

The light of the half-moon reflects off your tears in the split second he can see your face, because you’re walking away from him toward the back door. “Get out of here, Jethro GIbbs, or I swear I’ll start screaming and get the law down here!”

You don’t even look at him. Not one measly glance as you pull the door open to rush inside. For a few seconds, his feet are rooted to the dirt. And as mad as he is, Jethro doesn’t quite want to leave. That pull that drove him here is still in his gut, much to his annoyance. Buried under the heat of the argument. Plus, he made you cry - some of that anger is pointed to himself.

He turns away from your perfect white house, disappearing back into the darkness so the law can’t see him. And Jethro doesn’t look back, not once.

If he had, he knows he would’ve seen your sad face in the window.

Anthony’s infection was like a cough that just couldn’t be shaken.

None of Doctor Mallard’s tonics seem to be working. And as Anthony’s condition worsened, it seems like the gang’s morale faltered, too. Jethro felt that change; he is not immune to the mood that wily young Italian brings to the gang. And with the argument he had with you last night - well, he doesn’t want to admit how much he misses Anthony’s bad jokes.

His hand runs slowly up and down the muzzle of his horse as Jethero waits on Abigail. Their plan is foolish. Could likely get them locked up, or worse. But with Anthony on death’s doorstep, there’s little choice.

Abigail had not been involved in the bank heist. She’s the one who will walk into the general store and buy the things Mallard needs. Jethro’s going along to keep an eye on her, much to the gang’s distress. Because if they lose Anthony, could they really afford to lose Jethro, as well?

Perhaps not. But Jethro wasn’t going to let his foolishness get Abigail into trouble. And letting her go alone would be dangerous.

As they ride into town, he keeps his hat low. Doesn’t look anybody in the eye. It’s been some years since he’s had to ride through a town where he’s wanted, and he hasn’t missed the way it feels. The urge to run, or the sensation that everybody’s staring at him. Having to keep his ears pricked, waiting to hear a lawman shout his name, or the crack of a rifle.

“There’s the general store,” Abigail points out.

He nods without a word, and to his surprise, Abigail has kept a lid on her usual chatterbox self. He knows she’s no fool; this is too important, and her nervous talking may likely draw attention. Even her usual frilly black lace attire has been replaced with a much less noticeable dress. Truly a sacrifice.

But Anthony’s life is more important, right now.

They climb off their horses, and Abigail makes a beeline for the door. “I’ll stay out here. To keep watch,” Jethro mumbles out. His eyes flicker around the street, relieved that everything seems normal.

Abigail nods. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Her words bring little comfort. Jethro doesn’t like feeling so exposed.

Jethro tries not to watch people as they walk by. That would only make him look suspicious - on the other hand, he needs to keep an eye out. Be it paranoia or caution, Jethro watches the townspeople from under the wide brim of his hat. For him, it’s unusual how normal they all act when Anthony is back at camp dying.

And he’s not sure what powers are at play. Whether God or the Universe or just bad karma coming to bite him in the ass. But Jethro’s gaze wonders over across the street, a few buildings down. His heart stops dead, and limbs go cold. Not even the scariest lawman in the state could make Jethro quite so scared.

You haven’t noticed him, of course. Nobody has. But Jethro noticed you instantly. Like his heart was a compass.

He watches you, deep in conversation with the owner of the store you just walked out of. And it’s no wonder - your last name is on the top of that store. This must be some kind of business meeting.

And Jethro’s well aware he’s staring. He knows he outta be on the look out. Knows he really shouldn’t care whether or not you’re in town because of some bank business that your father likely roped you into. The argument was still fresh in his head - there was nary a time Jethro didn’t think back on that night with a hole in his heart. Or a fire in his belly.

Despite his mixed feelings, Jethro’s certain you’ll still be cross with him. Would tell him that you never want to see him again, and he’s not sure he can take hearing that, right now.

But God, how he misses you.

Losing the privilege of talking and spending afternoons with you felt like losing a limb. Jethro missed being able to escape his lowly life for a few hours and feel almost free. And you make him feel good, too. Like he can be a decent, respectable man with a decent, respectable life.

If he apologized, can Jethro even hope you’d forgive him?

Finally, you seem to conclude the conversation with the store owner and begin walking away. Jethro’s first instinct is to follow, and for once, he’s well-aware of how misguided his instincts have been, lately. His head swivels around to the door - Abigail would be fine for a few minutes, surely. He only needs to say a few words to you. And that’s still assuming you would stop and listen.

Jethro is careful about how fast he walks - slow enough to not attract attention, but fast enough to catch up. His stomach is tight, palms are clammy, and Jethro finds he can’t hardly breathe once he’s a mere foot away.

But he needs to concentrate. Needs to stay calm to get your attention.

Slowly, he walks up to your side. And before you could turn and look at him, Jethro leans his head over. “It’s me,” he mumbles out. You jump in surprise, give a gasp, and Jethro’s worried you might say his name and out him. Perhaps this was a mistake.

You don’t say a word. You just stare at him, mouth agape, and he knows this is the perfect time to pull you away from public eye.

With a hand on your arm, he discreetly pulls you into the space between two buildings. Just wide enough to fit the both of them, but provides the perfect privacy he needs. Away from the high society he loathes so much - the only attention he seeks is yours, and now he’s got it.

It comes with a price, though. Your face isn’t so bright and alive as it usually is, and Jethro knows he’s the cause of that. Your eyes watch him carefully, and he notices dark circles that were never there previously. Haven’t you been sleeping?

“What are you doing in town?” You ask him harshly. Jethro’s head backs away from the ferocity of your words. “If the law catches you, you’ll be hanged.”

He knows that. And he knows the stupid decision he made leaving the shop to chase after you. “My friend was shot. We’re here getting some medicine for him, but I think we might be too late,” Jethro says flatly.

And to your credit, you look sad. Sympathetic for his problems, and Jethro doesn’t miss the way your hand comes to grip his arm. As if comforting him, but too afraid to really commit to it. “I’m sorry, Jethro. I really am. I do hope he gets better. But we should not be talking, and you should not be here.”

You’re inching away from him, eyes downcast. And it isn’t until Jethro sticks his arm up to block your path do you stop. “So that’s it? After everything,” he asks. You don’t respond, and that only flares up his old anger from the previous fight. “I know I can never measure up to you and your family. I know I’m some lowlife, no-good cowboy-”

“Jethro, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Your words drain the anger from him. Maybe they shouldn’t; Jethro is never so easily swayed by words. But you look back up to him, meeting his eyes. “I was just....angry and confused and frightened. My father was going mad with everything that happened. You’re a good man, I know that. And I’m so sorry about what I said.”

The apology wasn’t expected. Jethro sooner prepared for a slap to the face than your honest regret. And a small flare of hope rises - that maybe this doesn’t have to end.

You’re still staring. Watching his expression soften, and eventually, your hand reaches out to grip his. A gentle squeeze that Jethro’s been craving. The soft touch that somehow manages to mend some of the cracks that these last few days have inflicted on him.

The seconds tick by, and Jethro knows he’s already been away for too long. It was a gamble to leave the store, and now he’s just being foolish for staying this long.

Regardless, Jethro leans in and presses his lips against yours with fervor. If the first kiss were as gentle and slow as a stream, than this kiss was a raging river. It knocks the wind out of him. Makes him feel like he’s drowning and you’re keeping him afloat. And you....you’re grabbing onto him. Clutching him tight by his coat, unwilling to let him leave this little bubble you’ve created.

Acting like this is the final kiss you’ll ever share.

Jethro promises himself that won’t be the case.

Your lips are soft and pliable against his. Jethro would happily stay in this crevice for the rest of his life, but he breaks the kiss. As he leans back, he sees small tears trickle down your cheeks. With a heavy heart, he wipes them away. “I need to go now. But I need you to do something,” he says, voice somehow sturdy after that kiss.

You look reluctant. “Jethro-”

“Tell your father about us. About everything,” Jethro states. And he ignores the way your eyes flicker away briefly before returning. “Once Anthony’s fit to travel, we’re leaving. And I want you to leave with us.”

It was a tall order, he knew. Leaving everything you knew. Everyone you love. But Jethro knows he wants you with him. Feels it in his bones that you’re meant to be with him, always. And the way you’re still gripping onto him, you must feel the same. That undeniable tug, like a rope around his neck.

His hand runs along your cheek one final time before he pulls away. Unfurls your hands from his coat and squeezes out of the crevice. On his way back to the store, Jethro doesn’t look back. And yet, he feels your eyes on him.

Just as he returns, Abigail is exiting the store. And she’s isn’t stupid; she knows he was gone. Instead of scolding him for such a stupid move, she just furrows her eyebrows at him. “Where did you go?” She asks.

Jethro keeps his hat down, unwilling to look her in the eye. His answer was too long. Too complex.

“Something important I had to take care of,” he answers simply. Not a great answer, but the only one he’ll provide. “C’mon, let’s get back to camp.”

#ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

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katehuntington · 5 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part thirteen) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Ash Miller, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6350 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 thirteen: The six mile ride to find water is a long one, exhausting the wranglers. When they finally reach the river, Dean and Y/N find a lot more than just that. 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: ‘I Will Carry You’ - Carter Burwell (opening scene), ‘All The Wild Horses’ - Ray LaMontagne (Dean & Y/N final 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

“Here.” A water flask moves into her peripheral vision, pulling Y/N back from a hazy daydream. It’s past five PM, but it’s at least 90 degrees, the high temperatures lingering. The heat is dry, not the kind that is oppressive and makes it hard to breathe, but more torrid. Crippling nonetheless, especially for someone who is used to chilly autumns and cold winters. Her fatigued body was aching when they were standing at the junction hours ago, but Y/N didn’t want to be the one to call it quits. She still feels the pressure to prove herself, to her dad, to Dean and Bobby, to herself. So she kept her mouth shut. Now it seems stupid, because she isn’t feeling well.

Heavy eyes glide up the arm extended to her, meeting Dean’s handsome face, shaded by his Western hat. It’s clear that he’s concerned for her. “That’s yours,” she objects. “I’ve got some left.” “No, you don’t. You emptied it over an hour ago,” he knows, motioning her to take the bottle. Y/N huffs; looks like someone has been keeping an eye on her. Dean isn’t going to take no for an answer. “You gotta to stay hydrated, or this heat will take you down,” the wrangler pressures. “You’re not used to these circumstances.” “I’ve been here for over a month, Dean. I think I’m used to the climate by now,” she counters stubborn, even though she knows better. The cowboy eyes her sternly, but can’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching in a smile. Hardheaded? Y/N? Where did he ever get that idea? “Are you gonna drink it, or what?” he half asks, half tells her. Reluctant the cowgirl takes the water, but hesitates before she lifts it to her mouth. “What about you?” “I’m alright,” he assures. Before she has a sip, Y/N takes in the cowboy. Dust has covered his arms and his neck with a thin layer, the tiny particles sticking to his sweaty skin. His bandaged hand rests on the horn of the saddle, but other than the minor injury, nothing indicates that the long journey in extreme conditions is getting to him. He must be thirsty too, but he looks alert and healthy, which she surely does not.

Y/N quickly counts the number of hours she has been in the saddle; close to eleven. The long trail under the merciless sun is taking its toll. Dean knows it, even Joplin does, because the mare has reduced her pace significantly, getting her cargo safely across the land, while before she was hard to keep up with. Her rider is glad she slowed down and took the wheel, because she is not in the mood to repeatedly ask the dark little horse to ease. Every now and then, Y/N feels like she could faint, a wave of dizziness almost washing the female wrangler off her horse. Gosh, she wishes it was actual waves. She would do anything for a drop of rain right now. For a second she fantasizes about a nice bubble bath, or a shower even. She would do anything for a cool shower.

She swallows down the water, leaving some for the wrangler next to her. With worry puckered on his forehead, he observes her intently. It doesn’t go unnoticed, because a scoff erupts from her sore throat. “I’m fine,” she assures him. “I’m just tired and a little sore, that’s all.” But Dean isn’t convinced. Pondering he glances ahead, watching Benny and the other three riders. His Southern friend is making easy conversation and it seems like Macy and Brad are handling themselves, but Jon looks like he’s going on fumes. “We should’ve gone back,” he mumbles, second guessing his decision. “What? And return to the ranch without the horses?” she queries, resting her free hand on her thigh. “We had to make the jump, Dean. Rather on the second day than later. Plus, you said it yourself: find the water, find the herd.” Ted’s rider looks aside, the muscles of his jaw tensing as he averts his eyes again. He did tell her that, but he has trouble trusting his own words. Running low on water could have disastrous consequences in the desert. Having enough of it while on a trail is one of the first essentials. What if they get stranded? What if one of the horses suffers a more severe injury than Cash already did?

“How much longer?” Y/N didn’t mean the words to come out pleading, but when Dean returns her gaze sympathetically, she realizes how desperate she sounded. He then glances at the volcanic landscape around him, determining their position. With Battleship Mountain on his left and the entrance of Boulder Canyon straight up ahead, it can’t be more than a mile. “We’re almost there,” he reassures her. “I promise.” She nods, but her smile isn’t sincere. Everything other than ‘we’ll be there in five minutes’ is too long. Dean seems to be able to read her mind, however. “We can go for a swim once we get there,” he adds. Now Y/N does look up, her interest peaked. “A swim?” “Hm-hm. Where we’re headin’ isn’t just a little stream. There is water there the whole year round. So if you want, we can go for a swim.” He smiles at her. God, that sounds heavenly. She looks forward to it already, although a question rises almost instantly. She can’t go swimming in her jeans, so that means the cowboy is going to see her, all of her. Insecure she smiles back at him, trying not to let her self-consciousness stand in the way. “Don’t wait up for me; if you want to lead the group, go ahead. I’ll catch up.” She changes the subject, nodding at the six horses about forty yards up front. He shrugs, shaking his head lightly and dismissing her suggestion. “Benny will manage. I’d rather be riding next to you.”

And so he stays by her side as they descend into the narrow canyon, the trail getting steep. She lets Joplin choose the path, trusting the agile horse with bringing her down the slope. They drop several hundred feet in a short amount of time, Dean on her tail the entire time, making sure she will arrive at the river safely. Then the path evens out, a plateau hanging over a cliff seems to be the end of the line. The other wranglers halt at the edge, the moral lifting at the sight. Curious Y/N rides up to join them, when she spots it. In the middle of the dramatic landscape with intimidating rock formations, which cast long shadows over the land as the sun hangs low in the west, an oasis of green frames the riverbed. Crystal clear water runs through the La Barge Creek into Canyon Lake. Salt River snakes through the landscape to their east. They made it. They finally made it. After a long and stressful day in the saddle, they can finally recharge. “Boys and girls, welcome to Eagle’s Nest,” Benny announces, a wide grin on his face.

Y/N lets a deep sigh slip from her lips, just the image before her having her feel a little bit lighter already. She smiles at Dean, who mimics her expression, clearly relieved that it all worked out. The head wrangler is the first one to ride down the hill, the rest of the company in his wake. About a hundred yards from the water he stops Ted. “Set up camp here?” Benny assumes. Dean nods. “Let’s make it quick, before we run out of light.” He dismounts his horse, slightly stiffer than he did yesterday; even the experienced trail rider is feeling this one deep in his muscles. Y/N does the same and she lands on the rocky surface with a thud, her feet tingling. Walking seems almost foreign, the first few steps a little unsteady, a sensation similar to having sea legs. Her supervisor hands her Ted. “You can take the horses to drink first,” he lets his eyes glide from Y/N to Macy and Jon, who looks like he is in no shape to help set up camp. The women nod and get to it, taking over the other horses as well, figuring the sooner the evening chores are done, the sooner they can put their feet up.

All eight horses eagerly walk further down the slope and step into the creek while putting their lips to the surface. Joplin almost drains the lake, her ears ticking forward with each gulp. Y/N chuckles at her eagerness, as she takes her flask from her saddlebag and fills it up. Jon throws water into his face, a delighted sigh escaping him as he freshens up, Macy following his example. “I’ve never appreciated water so much,” he claims. “I will never take it for granted again.” “You and the water need a room?” Macy nags, splashing water at her friend, who returns the favor. Y/N watches them banter, taking a long swig from her bottle, emptying almost three quarters in one go. The cold water runs down her throat and for a moment she feels a little uneasy, but then the fluid settles in her stomach. God, she was thirsty. Maybe even dehydrated, in combination with the relentless heat. But after a few more sips, she feels a lot better. Refilling her flask again, she straightens her back, looking up at the plateau where Dean, Benny and Brad are setting up the tents in record time. She walks around Joplin to the head wrangler’s horse, taking his bottle and filling it up as well. Having done the same for the other two wranglers, she takes Joplin and Ted to the camp, giving out water.

“You’re a frickin’ lifesaver. Thanks, darlin’,” Benny compliments, taking his bottle gladly. After handing Brad’s flask back, she walks up to Dean, who is setting up a paddock for the horses. He doesn’t notice her until she’s right behind him; without thinking about it, she lays her hand on his strong biceps to get his attention. The wrangler turns around surprised, meeting her soft smile. She holds the water bottle up, his eyes bouncing from her to the refreshment, looking at it with the same want. Gratefully he takes the flask, his fingers brushing over hers in the exchange, before he twists the cap off and takes three, four, five swigs. He lets a contented ‘ahh’ slip from his lips, breathing out relieved. Y/N tries not to stare, but it’s like she’s under hypnosis. Those same lips were on hers last night, and she has to admit she wants that again. She needs to retain herself, though, because Brad and Benny are setting up the third tent next to them.

Dean lowers the bottle, catching her slightly lowered jaw and hungry eyes. He smirks, his emerald greens twinkling as he wets his dry lips. Then he tucks his chin down, looking deep into her eyes while his darken a little. It seems like it’s only then that she realizes she is gaping and the blood rushes to her face. She breaks eye contact, smiling at her feet sheepishly. Oh, he knows exactly what he is doing. After gathering her confidence, she looks up to meet his gaze, the playful smirk back on his lips. Something in the air has changed. The nerves have dissolved, together with the doubt. There is no question if they both feel attracted to each other, but rather when the pull between them grows too strong to resist. The silent moment of sexual tension lasts a couple of solid seconds, before Dean is called over by Brad to help him out. As he walks past Y/N, he holds her gaze and lets his fingertips brush her forearm. It leaves her skin sensitive, goosebumps running up, despite the fact that the temperature is nowhere near chilly.

Within ten minutes the camp is ready for occupation. The horses calmly chew on their hay and scavenge for grass and twigs in the makeshift paddock. Despite the long day, none of them are visibly tired. Not even Cash, who seems to have forgotten about the whole snake bite incident. “Who wants to go swimmin’?” Y/N puts down the last stone and closes the circle of the firepit, only looking up when she dusts off her hands. Benny has already shed his shirt, unzipping his pants now with no shame whatsoever. Stunned she stares at him, then quickly averts her eyes. “Hell yes! I’ve been looking forward to diving into that creek ever since I laid eyes on it,” Jon muses, his appreciation for water still not faltering.

The intern’s gaze lingers on Brad and Jon now; one kicking off his boots, the other unbuckling his belt. Even Macy follows without a second thought. The female guest notices Y/N’s hesitation, because she shrugs as she slips her denim jeans from her hips. “No different than a bikini, right?” she comments carefree. Macy has a point, it doesn’t ease Y/N’s nerves, though. Of course it’s not skinny dipping, but she still feels uncomfortable exposing so much skin. She glances at Dean, who leaves his hat on the corner pole of one of the tents. For a second she freezes as he unbuckles his belt, realizing there’s something else she hasn’t considered. Seeing Dean in nothing but his underwear might just be a bit too much for her to handle. “Last one down takes the night’s watch!” The broad shouldered farrier descends down the hill - only wearing his form fitting boxer briefs - with the guests in tow. Brad chases his sister, who squeals as she tries to stay out of reach, running into the water in her red bra and striped boy shorts. She doesn’t seem to care about how she looks. Y/N gulps as she watches her, wishing she had that kind of confidence. “You comin’ or do you need my help undressin’?” She jumps when she feels Dean’s hand on her hip and turns around. He stripped from his clothes, only wearing a pair of grey boxers. Dear Lord, he looks amazing. Last time she saw him shirtless, it was the morning of her first day on the job. He was freshly showered then, his hair fluffy. Now it is fixed with traces of gel, pushed up again when he ran his hand through it earlier, after his hat flattened the light brown strands. Dirt and dust have mixed with the sweat that the heat surfaced, adding to the tan lines on his arms and neck. She swallows with difficulty and tears her eyes from his toned chest up to his evergreen eyes. The wrangler senses her discomfort, because he narrows his eyes at her slightly, the trademark smirk dying down. She knows that he was joking about the undressing part, right? “You okay?” he checks. “Yeah, yeah. I’m - I’m fine,” she assures, faking a smile. “I’ll be down in a minute.” Dean holds her gaze for a second, trying to read her. Not sure if he made her feel uncomfortable, he lets his hand slip from her waist and decides against the quick kiss he was going to leave on her lips; he doesn’t want to push her. His expression is soft now, letting her know that it’s okay if she needs time. “Alright,” he returns, leaving it at that. He walks past her towards the water, the sounds of splashing and laughter welcoming him. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closes her eyes. She has to go down and join them and doing that clothed is both more conspicuous and impractical, since she’ll be wearing the same pair of jeans in the morning. Not taking a swim isn’t an option either, because this might be the only chance she gets to clean herself thoroughly, until they get back to the ranch. She has no choice, so why is she blowing this up in her mind? Why is she so self-conscious about her appearance? Because Jo told her once how Dean only goes for the pretty girls? Because she saw his former fling Casey, the beautiful brunette who could as well have been a model? Or is it because no one has ever looked at her like the head wrangler, and she doesn’t want him to see her differently after he witnesses all of her?

Frustrated, she takes off her hat and pulls the hairband from her braid, strapping it around her wrist. Internally she scolds herself for letting the insecurity get to her, all the while she unbuttons her plaid blouse and shrugs it off hastily. Before she changes her mind, she takes off one boot, then the other, leaving them by her tent, neatly placed next to each other with her socks inside. Finally she pushes her jeans down, folding them up and placing them on top of her Western boots. Again she inhales, because there she stands, in nothing but her black hipsters, a navy blue bra and a white tank top. Even though she had to pack light, she at least could have brought matching underwear. Not brave enough to take her undershirt off, she steps onto the path towards the water barefoot, running her fingers through her hair. The sight in front of her takes away some of her anxiety, because the wranglers, who were running low on moral an hour ago, are now enjoying their refreshing swim. Macy’s significant giggle echoes between the rocks at the river bed as Jon and Brad continue to tease her. Benny swims a slow lap, floating in the middle of the creek, while Dean washes his face in shallower waters. Thankfully, none of them are paying much attention as the intern approaches the waterline.

As she dips a toe in the water to test the temperature, Dean turns to look at her. His eyes shift from playful to mesmerized in a split second, because he has never seen her like this. For the first time since he met her, she’s wearing her hair down. The braid she left in for two days, leaves small waves in her locks, coming down like a waterfall. Her exposed legs haven’t seen much sun, due to her Northern origins, and probably her shyness as well. They seem strong, though, hours of horse riding and training leading to the muscles barely visibly moving under her soft skin, as she steps into the water. He smiles at the sight of the young woman, who sweeps him off his feet every time he lays eyes on her. “There you are.” She returns his expression, insecurity oozing through when she covers herself as much as she can. She has pulled her tank top down far enough to stretch over the little shorts she’s wearing. He is careful not to look at her differently, not wanting the self-conscious young woman to think that seeing her in less clothing changes his perspective, but deep down it hurts him. It hurts him that she apparently doesn’t feel like she’s beautiful, because God damn, she is. “Just take the plunge, Yankee,” he encourages, letting himself fall back smoothly, the water up to his shoulders now. “You know, for a place that is as hot as it is here, the water is pretty damn cold,” Y/N scoffs, collecting some of the water in her cupped hands and spreading it on her arms. Dean chuckles at that. She said ‘damn’, it’s about as close to a curse that he’s heard from her. “Once you’re in, it’s not so bad,” he promises.

Not having the heart to jump into the cool water, she puts one step into his direction, the surface at her knees now. This afternoon she would have committed a crime for a refreshing swim, but now that she is standing here, the cold licking at her ankles, she shivers. She still has her arms crossed, hugging herself in an attempt to feel warm and comforted. Movement of the water draws her attention and Y/N looks up at the head wrangler, who is moving towards her. Normally that wouldn’t strike her as alarming, but when she notices the mischievous grin adorning his handsome face, she holds her ground. “W-what are you doing?” she stammers. Dean doesn’t answer, but raises his eyebrows at her, fighting the fading resistance of the water with every stride. Oh boy, he is clearly up to no good. It causes her to step back and put out her hands in defense. “No - no - no! Dean, don’t you dare!” she warns, once she understands where this is going.

Y/N steps out of the creek now, trying to get away from him. But the cowboy is quick, and even when she sprints away, he manages to catch up. She lets out a scream when he grabs her by the waist, locking her to his chest with his strong arms. He then lifts her up without a strain and walks back to the creek. Not impressed with the fight she puts up as she tries to escape his grip, he steps into the cool water. “Dean, put me down! Put me --” Honoring her request, he jumps in, turning so that he is the first to dunk in the water and only then lets her go. They both go under, the cowboy coming up before her, shaking the water from his face. When Y/N breaks through the surface, he throws his head back while laughing out loud. The sheer horror on her face says it all; her mouth hanging open, her hair soaked and covering her eyes, her shoulders pulled up to her ears. She looks more like a cat who got dropped into the bath than a human being.

She wants to be mad at him, but the sound of his laughter melts her stone cold limbs. With a scoff she pushes the tangled strands from her face, glaring at the cowboy as she bites down on her lip in order to not break character. But then she chuckles, shaking her head. “You are such a jerk,” she utters. “You were taking forever,” he returns sniggering. Amused he watches her, moving a little closer. He’s about to apologize, when Y/N kicks her foot up, sending a big splash his way. He turns his head to avoid getting even wetter and counters with a good pitch, a handful of water sloshing at her as she protects her face. They continue to spatter like a bunch of kids, cackling as they do so, until Benny intervenes.

“Children!” he calls out, finally getting his friend’s attention. Both stop mid-action, glancing aside at the farrier who is watching the banter with his arms crossed and the water at his waist. “Permission to get the diving boards, Chief?” he requests. Dean nods, confirming, liking his Southern brother’s idea. Y/N studies him puzzled, however. “We didn’t bring diving boards, did we?” she double checks, not sure what Benny is up to. “Not the typical ones, no,” Dean returns mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

Benny returns from the camp not even a minute later, a horse by the halter in each hand. Stunned Y/N watches how he leads Ted Nugent and his own horse Ozzy Osbourne towards the riverbed, the large animals stepping in trustingly. He hands Dean Ted as he passes by, guiding the other chestnut to the center of the creek. When the water reaches to Ozzy’s shoulder, Benny pulls himself on top of the calm horse. Clearly it isn’t the first time that the wranglers have done this, because even when the farrier stands up on the gelding’s back, Ozzy waits patiently. “Bombs away!”

With a loud cheer Benny jumps from the ‘platform’, pulling his knees to his chest and breaking the surface with an impressive cannonball dive. He sends a tidal wave over the tourists, who rally him on. They swim towards Ozzy, who seems to love the cool down plus the attention. One by one they climb on his back, diving from his strong hindquarters. Dean watches the bunch with a contentment over him that Y/N hasn’t seen before. He leans against Ted, his arm resting over the arc of the horse’s spine. Of course this isn’t the first time she notices how relaxed he is, how at home he feels, and yet something is different about him. Like he reached a new level of happiness, of fulfillment. That couldn’t possibly have anything to do with her, now could it? But when he lets his eyes wander from the frolicking guests to Y/N, his smile grows wider, edging crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. “Wanna go for a ride?” he asks. Without wasting words, she nods, holding his gaze until he takes Ted’s leadrope. Skillfully he swings his leg over the horse’s back, using the momentum to jump from the creek’s bottom and landing behind Ted’s withers. Once he’s seated, he extends his hand towards the woman beside him, grabbing her arm and interlocking it with his. With one swift pull he hoists her from the water, Y/N using the same technique to sway onto the horse, settling behind the head wrangler. As he steers Ted a little deeper into the water, his free hand comes to rest on Y/N’s thigh, not caring about the guests seeing them together.

The cowgirl’s balance on a horse is that of a gymnast on the beam, so holding on to Dean wouldn’t be necessary, but she puts her arms around his waist anyway. Comfortable and allowing herself to let this be, like he has encouraged her to, she rests her cheek against the hollow between his shoulder blades for a moment, closing her eyes. Her bare feet sweep through the water, her toes drawing ripples on the surface, the break catching the last light of the day. Despite that she is not holding the reins, bareback on a horse that she doesn’t know, she feels safe. She hasn’t felt this carefree since the early days of her horse riding career. Her grandfather would walk with her during those very first pony rides, teaching her about horses along the way. She trusted him fully, never once doubting his life lessons and knowledge. With Dean it’s a different kind of faith. It’s knowing he will be right there whenever she needs him, but also to give her the courage to take that leap. “You alright back there, Yankee?” he wonders, feeling her smile against his skin. “Yeah,” she acknowledges. “I am.” The corner of Dean’s mouth pulls upward, his hand holding the leadrope shifting from Ted’s mane to cover her hands on his stomach, fingers entwining, trapping the braided cord in between. The rope made of horsehair scratches his palm, a contrast to her soft skin. Grateful he breathes in, the smell of desert dust underlaid with a subtle, herbal, organic scent of the river fills his nose. Before, he never felt like he needed something more in life. He has never gone steady with a woman, not more than a couple of weeks at least. He was never looking for a relationship and appreciated the freedom that came with that. But now, having her pressed against his back, warm and comforting, he realizes what he’s been missing.

They approach the other wranglers, the rider exchanging a knowing look with Benny, who takes in the perfect picture delighted. Before the guests notice the intimacy, Y/N slips her arms from Dean’s strong torso, pulling up her feet. “What are you doin’?” the cowboy wonders, looking over his shoulder. She stands up on Ted’s back and stretches her legs, steadying herself by holding on to him until she finds her footing. Then she straightens up. “Taking the plunge,” she chuckles. The intern jumps then, squeezing her nose closed as she folds herself into a ball before she crashes through the surface. Macy is still cackling when Y/N comes up, unsuccessful at dodging the spatter that came her way. Meanwhile the others cheer her on, now that she has finally joined them. She has completely forgotten about her insecurities, or the cold water that washed all that away. All she can think of is how blessed she is to be here, to gain so much more than just work experience.

The crew takes several more dives from the horses, who allow the gambol calmly. Dean drops an impressive dive bomb right between the group, not outdoing his slightly heavier friend Benny, but creating quite a splash nonetheless. Time flies by way too quickly, and before they know it, the sun has disappeared behind the mountains, leaving only dark shades of red and purple to decorate the sky. The air cools quickly and everyone knows they should get ready for the night. Eventually it’s Benny who rattles up the company. “Alright, y’all. Time for Benny’s famous Southern soul soup. Get your butts to camp and start that fire. I’ve got some cookin’ to do.” He shoos the tourists out of the creek, following them with the two horses in tow. He looks over his shoulder at his best friend and the intern, who linger. A mischievous grin comes Dean’s way before the farrier straightens himself, walking away whistling. Y/N sniggers at the funny character; looks like he has been acting as the head wrangler’s wingman. “Smooth,” she comments, a knowing yet amused smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, he’s real subtle,” Dean chuckles, busted. “Got you alone again, though.” He comes closer, water moving between them, and suddenly nature goes quiet. His hands end up on her hips, pulling in the girl who is so willingly looking at him. His fingers trace the hem of her white tank top as he dips his head, his nose brushing against hers.

Before Y/N knows it, he’s kissing her again. She melts into him, her muscles going slack under his touch. Like the night before, the kiss is gentle and unhurried, giving her a moment to compare the two. His lips are a little more chapped, probably due to the long day in the sun while running low on water. A three day old stubble tickles her skin, the tough hairs slightly longer than yesterday. He’s clean now, fresh water having washed away the sweat and dirt. The first-time nerves aren’t there this evening, but she does feel that same fire rise up from her coil. That same desire to stay here forever, because no kiss has ever felt this good.

He parts from her, with his hands still splayed on her lower back, looking down on the cowgirl he has hopelessly fallen for. A few clouds reflect the little light that is coming from the horizon, but it’s enough for Dean to notice something. He grins widely, even though he tries to tone it down, as his hands leave her waist to run the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, sweeping across the area under her eyes. For a second she wonders what he’s trying to brush away, but then it hits her. “Oh, Lord. I look like a Goth, don’t I?” she realizes, remembering how fond she was to still have a significant amount of mascara on her lashes this morning, helping her feel a little less naked. Now she regrets not washing it off completely. “More like a sad panda,” Dean chuckles, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle a laugh.

Awkwardly she looks down at the water, but the wrangler stops her, hooking his finger under her chin. “Don’t hide,” he says, his expression soft. Cupping her face, he wipes away the last black shades from her flushed cheeks, then drinks her in, his eyes flicking over her features. Embarrassment remains prominent in her stance, though. Dean feels his chest tighten a little, because if anything, he did not want to make her feel uneasy. “You know you don’t have to wear it, right?” he starts, his thumb caressing her soft skin. “The makeup?” She looks up at him again now, still insecure, but carefully hopeful. Where is he going with this? “I mean, if you want to and if it makes you feel better, don’t let me stop ya...” he adds, stammering a little bit. “I’m just saying that you don’t need it. You’re beautiful... With or without.”

A small smile forms on her lips. Again she’s blushing, not from shame, but from flattery this time. “You think I’m beautiful?” she asks, traces of slight disbelief in her voice. “Hell, yeah,” Dean assures smirking, half rolling his eyes at her doubt. “And as my lovely cousin told you in such detail, I have snooped around plenty, so I’d know. Those girls ain’t got nothing on you.” She laughs at the joke, casting her eyes down. “Hey…” Y/N glances up, the intensity of his eyes catching her off guard. “I mean it,” he whispers. Showing her exactly how amazing she is, he kisses her hard this time, leaving her breathless. Overwhelmed by the intensity she stiffens, but then opens up to him, allowing his tongue to slip past her lips. With her eyes closed she waits, letting him take the lead in their dance. Careful not to break the moment, Dean leans back, letting himself fall gently into the water, taking her with him. Floating away on waves of elation, he envelopes her in his arms, offering her the warmth of his body in the icy creek. He rises up then, searching for footing again on the floor of pebbles, the water at chest height now. For a second they part, breathing in each other’s air. The wrangler opens his eyes, looking down at the gorgeous woman who is slowly becoming his. Waiting for even the slightest hint of hesitation, he moves his fingers to trace down the hem of her top again, slipping underneath. She gazes back, her eyes piercing with nothing but want, nodding barely noticeable. Dean spots it, though. It’s like the lights on the track jumped to green, meeting her halfway in a kiss much more heated than the previous ones.

His hands hike up under her shirt, gliding over her delicate skin as his mouth never leaves hers. A hitching breath passes her lips when the pad of his thumb caresses the underside of her breast, featherlight, yet electrifying. Dean pushes her bra up slightly, almost tracing her nipple, which has hardened both from the cold and arousal. Completely in awe, she rolls her head back a little, exposing her neck. Gladly Dean ghosts over the junction to her shoulder, running his teeth towards her collarbone torturously slow, biting down a groan on the curve. Good Lord. His touch, his tongue, his mouth. Everything about this feels amazing. The freezing water is just the right temperature to cool her heated skin, the swell of the small waves identical to the one she feels in her lower abdomen. The cowboy can have her anyway he wants, she’s not going to fight him on it. In fact, she urges him to keep going, carding her nails through his damp hair and applying pressure once she closes her fingers around the brown locks, darkened by millions of droplets.

Dean’s right hand descends down her body again while his left remains to attend her soft breast. He follows the arch of her back, then lower, kneading and exploring her behind, firm from years in the saddle. Holy shit, this cannot possibly feel this good. The resolution to take things slow goes right out the window, as his fingers find space above the back of her thigh, following the edge of her underwear. Then he grips her tight there, his other hand sliding to cover the clasp of her bra, not freeing her from it just yet. He lifts her a little, pushing her flush against him. Hungry for the woman in his arms, he covers the top of her breasts with his mouth, the soaked fabric of her top between him and her hot skin. Dean knew it before, but this, this unbelievable display of chemistry only confirms it; she’s it.

His lips find hers again, even though she has to keep breaking away in order to get enough air. Her respiration has picked up, every breath coming out labored. She can feel the gentle vibration of a low moan coming from deep within his chest, only adding fuel to the wildfire that is spreading through her body fast. At first she is unaware of the noise of water rustling in the distance, but then Dean freezes. Not understanding why he has stopped, she nuzzles her nose against his cheek, drunk and thirsty for his affection, seeking his mouth, but the wrangler is focussed on something else. Confused Y/N opens her eyes, looking up at the handsome man, whose eyes are fixed on the estuary of La Barge Creek to Canyon Lake. “Dean?” “You hear that?” he whispers.

The sound of water moving and the fragile surface breaking dawns on her now and she follows his gaze into the dark. Then she hears a neigh and her heart skips a beat. That wasn’t one of theirs. “Find the water…” “Find the herd,” Dean finishes her sentence. Still in his embrace, she watches the mystical sight, able to make out the shapes now under a faint moon, once the clouds move away from blocking the light. The group of horses crosses the creek, some stopping to drink. Dean lets out a relieved laugh, turning to face Y/N again. “We found them,” she smiles. “We did,” he whispers. He kisses her briefly, knowing that he has to warn Benny, before the herd moves away. He drowns in her eyes a little longer, though, the ignited ecstasy still sparkling visibly in her pupils. His heart swells, his mind calms. He knows. He has found so much more than just the horses on this trail.

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 fourteen here

#Ride With Me #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x Reader #Dean reader insert #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester series #Dean series #Cowboy!Dean series #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural AU #Dean AU #SPN AU #Kate Huntington

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racheljchen · 4 years

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story vomit

-hong kong runaway idea reality in mental hospital? mr robot perfect blue -blue hour love "i wanna be scary" heart break shaves eyebrows red lipstick black panther for asians space? dreamjng of home story about learning to let go and putting yourself first story about choosing happiness, prolonged misery JYN AND CASSIAN IMMORTALS her fingers ruffled through soft locks of his hair, and her heart swelled. it was too little and too much all at once, after all the years apart, how could she have ever doubted wanting to be by his side again? Now that he was in her arms the certainty seemed to settle into an unshakable truth, that she and he were meant to return to each other, circling each other, standing by the other's side no matter the circumstances of the rest of the foolish world. the girl from before, who only knew of solitude, of running, looking over shoulder at every turned would have thought this new certainty unthinkable. it might have terrified her or disgusted her, but the Jyn of now was a different woman. his eyes caught her transfixed gaze and crinkled with a smile she knew better than her own. no words needed to break the cozy silence for the understanding to pass between them. there was nothing she wanted more than to crush his body to hers, to hold him gently and never let go again but the feeling overwhelmed her and she could only continue to cradle his head in her lap, stroking a finger down the jawline she loved. mine. mine. her heart said, touching a body that was not her own, this skin which would pierce me to be bruised, these bones which would shatter her to be broken. hours later, after many hushed words had passed between them, describing in few short words the many hard years that had passed for each of them, as the sky began to flush lilac with the rising sun, they broke apart with much hesitance. after several failed attempts on cassian's part to urge her to the fresher for a much needed shower, she finally relented breaking the connecting touch betwen them. jyn couldnt contain the tiniest childish pout. how could she miss holding him within seconds of relinquishing the contact? annoyed at feeling like a childish teenager but still petulant to let go. "go!" urged cassian, his eyes crinkling with a grin, and then, of course how she resist grabbing his smiling face again and kissing those grinning lips. cassians arms could not help but to circle around her waist but of course he was the one with the greater self restraint and he withdrew them after a few moments, pushing her gently towards the fresher door. under the hot satisfying spray Jyn allower herself the luxury of a quick moment to just enjoy the comforts of a life not based on the next meal, next job, and the overhanging urgency of survival, before she got to work scrubbing off the unholy layers of grime on her body. as she lathered suds into her hair, the fresher door clicked open with a soft hiss, and she peered through the fogged shower door at cassian, who of course smiled at her again, and she marveled at the ease of his surrending unlimited smiles for her when he was a man of few smiles for the rest of the universe. and with that her traitorous heart was off again, squeezing with the overwhelming painful joy of having him by her side again. cassian rinsed his toothbrush, finished with brushing his teeth. with a mischievous grin he peeled of his under shirt and dropped his trousers to the floor. steam poured out of the fresher as he slipped in beside her, putting his rough hands on the soft slick skin of her waist. jyn hooked her arms around his neck and tiptoed up to kiss him, soft sweet and slow, and they stood under the spray, feeling each other up like teenagers until suddenly Jyn shrieked. "Ah! Sorry, sorry, the boiler tank is small, I've been wanting to install a bigger one-" Jyn laughed despite the freezing spray erasing her comfortable warmth by the second. "get out you horn dog i still have to rinse out my hair" one of them gets executed but comes back to life cassian? comes back to find jyn and their child // cassian as a fire breathing bar tender modern au where they're divorced drug cartel AU krennic and galen in the cia/dea jyn smuggles or deals arms or something cassian is an undercover DEA agent cassian riding a horse, wearing a cowboy hat, smoking patron notices cassian is into jyn and 'gives' her to him "you're a lucky guy" thats just a nice way to say i want to fuck your girl jyn if you do this i can't protect you ive known these guys my whole life and you think you can get into this game for a couple months and i need you to protect me from them i dont mean from them cassian joserra jerome antonio anglés andrez after they settle down: oh where did you guys meet jyn: tinder // divorced soulmates when they meet jyn can tell its something special. she's been around the block enough to know that this one wasn't for messing around, that they meant too much to each other. cassian tamed her and she brought him to life and his friends were all supportive of course, relieved he had found some joy at last, that he finally had a reason to leave the office without putting in overtime more days of the week than not, a reason for brief smiles to stsrt escaping his serious outward demeanor. all they saw was cassian hiding a smile in a tumblr of mezcal st the bar with them, watching jyn dance with han and kes, twirling around them with smooth confidence as they tried not to trip on their own feet. how could it be anything but good? jyn knows cassian would never hurt her on purpose so she lets herself fall too easily, then slowly her life revolved around him. he occupied her throughts, her space, and she became nothing more than a part of cassian, his wife, as honoured and respectable as the role was she became suffocated with being introduced as his wife, people telling her what a great man her husband was, and she became defined by him, strangers assuming insight of her. when she leaves she finds herself all alone, realising all the friends she had were gifted to her by cassian, and the thought infuriates her. not at cassian, never at cassian, but at her past self for allowing this to happen, blind to painfully learned lessons to always have an escape route in sight, to rely on herself first and foremost. when she leaves, the pain is unbearable. she cries and she cries herself to sleep, and when she wakes up she's temporarily soothed her mind betraying her with the false sense that all the pain was just a bad dream and she would roll over and see cassian there, soft and warm and comforting and ready to hold her close and kiss the nightmare away. but the realisation came quick and she would be sobbing again. in the end it was only her stubborn pride that saved her the indignity of crawling back to him on her knees begging. or maybe it was the stone pit on her stomach that said you did this. you hurt him like this, and for what? how can you deserve to try and salvage what was perfectly good before you picked it up and smashed it on the ground just to see how the splinters would fall? when the fog of misery starts to fade though, she is relieved. even as she sits in her crappy, hole in the wall apartment, eating left over pizza for a undignified amount of times in a month, she is so relieved to be free. even if the AC keeps crapping out and she's sweating in February and bodhi has been the only other person to visit her apartment she is so relieved. her thoughts were her own again and she was so happy she could cry "jyn you will always be my family. you know that right?" she doesn't deserve it cassian walking barefoot in the shore wash at blue hour this pain wasn't unbearable but it was a unique brand of torturous. knowing exactly what she wanted was right in front of her, seeing it, touching it in soft polite embraces that lingered just on the dangerous end of perfunctory hellos and goodbyes. she's already had a taste of exactly everything she wants (not needs, not anymore, and that made the pain tolerable but a new unique brand of torturous), and she couldn't have it. she threw it all away. no regrets could be had, she would have never made it here without giving it up, but it certainly didnt help when they sat on the opposite ends of the friends spanning a bar counter and her attention still strayed from whatever kes was talking about to start at his lips, soft from worrying at the glass tumbler in his hand, hearing the memory of the laugh she only watched escape from him in real life as it was lost in the din of the bar. "i forgave you for literally tearing my heart apart the first time, but as much of a masochist as i am, I can't give you permission to do it again. so what is it jyn?" "come on jyn. it doesn't take an idiot to see how much we still care about each other" their scars are the only soft and tender part on them, new and innocent skin next to hard won calluses cassian's ex wife meet first time when cassian gets backup for his mission huge sexual tension competence porn celebrating successful mission, cassian shoots his shot she reveals she used to be in intelligence "understand this captain andor. i have a lot of respect for what you do. it's horrid work but it needs to be done. matter of fact i started in intelligence. but the one thing i know, is the kind of person that can stand that line of work, the kind of person i was back then, thats not the kind of people i want to break bread with" she pulls rank on him despite him being older and more experienced. "in my branch you get promoted fast because you die fast" cassian was being pessimistic/realist sbout expected bad outcome but young recruit is horrified more massive sexual tension at a bar or something, she goes outside to make out with some rando guy, cassian follows her and chases him off and kisses her. not nice and tender, hatefuck in an alleyway but it's so hot doesn't see each other again fuck in a tent, fuck in the showers start to bond, see each other's honour and kindess. after a bad mission she's doubting herself, unable to sleep, cassian takes her to a secret vantage point. "sometimes i think i'm a dispicable person" "not to me" he kisses her "what, really here?" where they're in constant threat of being walked in on "no." they just make out and its tender snd loving and it scares her off and she avoids him for a while cassian gets captured and held in solitary confinement for months, mentally tortured, starved. tries to escape, gets punished. gets fucked up in the head. draven and elkie are the only one pushing to find him and break him out. after cassian is found and returns to base he's a shell of himself, spooked, makes intense eye contact with elkie as he passes her but no aknowledgement of their signifigance to each other. after medical checks he's left alone and starts to panic, but before he freaks out fully, she comes into his room with shaving kit and a peach. she cuts a few slices for him to enjoy because hes not really allowed fruit, talks to him and shaves him as he heals she arranges for him to be put in a room with a chatty old soldier who keeps telling him old war stories, and visits him whenever she back on base. after a particularly bad mission. she crawls into his hospital bed in the middle of the night. after he's discharged, she sleeps with him whenever she can, calming him down after nightmares. one night he knows she's sleep deprived and needing to wake up early for important things the next day and tells her to stop sacrificing her sleep to help him. she's quiet before she asks if he is making her leave. he says no, so she just snuggles up to him. he realizes she prefers being woken up all night to sleeping without him. one say when cassian's feeling like he cant stand being amongst the people on the base in the mess hall, she brings him back to the vantage point to have lunch. they fuck but it's making love. something in between she gets captured and tortured. breaks leg. cassian rescues her. cassian cares for her in the immediate aftermath, she wakes up to him asleep in the hospital chair after he comes back from his own mission back on base, superiors want to send her off base to recuperate and get better PT, she really doesn't want to go, she knows she might never make it back and lose her nerve and her mind. their sleeping in cassian's bed and she admits this. he says there's desk work she can do on base. "married officers get first choice of postings" she's stunned by the insinuation "i need to know you arent whoring yourself out out of some misplaced need to take care of me. just because you slept with me a couple times doesn't mean i'm your responsibility." "i need to know you aren't... offering... out of convenience. just a loophole to help me out" "i'm not. i can't live without you anymore" they get married, she takes his name. captain andor and captain andor she drops off the grid for an extended period of time, she sees him in a crowd and he thinks she's a hostile, tries to take her down but she takes off her mask and goggles she dies in his arms CASSIAN'S LITTLE SISTER/DAUGHTER cassian's 16 she's 8, he saves her and has to babysit her for a while around rogue one she's 18 starting to do field work as an agent cassian as fulcrum is not nice or friendly but mentors her and takes care of her she just starts acting like a friend even though she has no reason to treat him like one bonds with jyn they go to each other when they're concerned about cassian, jyn tells her about a miscarriage, she tells jyn about PTSD she doesn't want to admit to cassian later as peace becomes more viable and cassian less cold and jaded, he starts to act like her family and at first it scares her off a bit she's hostile, says you don't have any right treating me like a child considering how you treated me in the past CASSIAN JYN F1 bodhi jyn both trained by legendary race strategist galen erso (betrays imperial team and orson krennic?) bodhi was trained to to compete and be great, jyn was thrown in and not expected by others to be a real competitor jyn joins f1 with saw gerrera's partisans, low midfield team, strapped for cash bodhi drives with his brain jyn drives with her gut bodhi tells her she can be truly great when she masters melding the thinking and control with her raw talent jyn podiums once and is over the moon but cassian isnt happy for her and she doesnt understand cassian says she doesnt understand racing yet, put herself on the line for revenge, had no way of knowing she was gonna survive her dirty trick and she only won when almost half the field retired calls her hotheaded and not ready cassian was an excellent ruthless driver, would drive dirty to make the win very good (champion?) gets into bad crash (jyn saves him?) and retires, join rebellion as race strategist cassian suggests jyn as new driver leia backs him up jyn helps cassian with his PT and tells him he doesn't have to put on a mask for her and he allows himself to show that he's in pain jyn falls asleep in cassian's hotel room and when he tucks her in she grabs him and they fall asleep together at a party after a good win jyn's tipsy and grabs cassian and starts singing and dancing in his face and cassian is laughing and loving every moment jyn's championship title comes down to the last race she gets a rough bump that physically takes a toll on her she has a good lead but she blows a tire and limps home (krennic gets on the radio somehow to try and break her confidence?) cassian: "do your best, bring her home. i'm right here jyn, I'm with you to the end. I'm not going anywhere" jyn wins a championship and retires she's proved herself after no one thought she would, defeated vader for a season she knows she doesn't have a strong chance of doing it again and wants to make room for luke and han so they don't join imperial F1 STORY young hotshot female driver gets put into falling from glory ferrari with him he used to be eyed as the next great talent but in a shit car he doesn't have any accomplishments to show and is starting to lose the hype and his drive to win she idolizes him, after a race where she does very well for a rookie and he delivers good but not great results, she goes into his driver's room and congratulates him on a good drive out of a need to assert control he fucks her he's trying to massage his own shoulder, she says here let me help, get close, talking, he turns to catch her eye and realises how close they are and kisses her fucks her on the desk, hot and dirty after their lustful scramble he comes back yo his senses and is a bit ashamed of what he's done kisses her on the forehead and leaves, saying see you tomorrow they keep hooking up throughout her rookie season, and spending time together in the public eye, her sweet genuine humorous personality tempers his steely cold and focussed persona and media and fans eat it up, everyone loves them as old gruff dude and young hotshot jokester duo two seasons like that as they grow closer there's a picture of him as a f1 rookie giving 14yo her a trophy forehead kisses become a meme she tells him what he already knows, he needs to jump ship from the team he loves in order to win he signs with a top three team as she continues to get more experience at their old team throughout the season they continue hooking up and hanging out in winter break they spend a lot of time with each other, to the point it seems like they're dating but theyve never discussed it he wins a world championship, realises the only person he wants to celebrate with is her she gets signed to a title contender team next time they hook up he's being a tender and says something commitment related she freezes up "what did you think this is" "yeah of course anyone would jump at the chance to fuck their idols, that doesn't mean their idols would be a good person to settle down with" "did u think i would fall in love with you just because i look up to you? im not some groupie. as if you weren't just taking advantage of me the first time, cheating on your girlfriend. im smart enough to know I'm not special, if you did it to her you certainly have it in you to do it to me" "i think we should stop doing this" breakup, theyre both heartbroken he feels betrayed, thinking the girl he's in love with just used him she doesn't want to admit she really did fall for him he gets signed to the same team as her the whole world is super excited to see their chemistry again but they're super cold, barely together, barely acknowledge each other press conference she blows off the question of whether she's excited to be teammates again he gets into tabloids rumored to be dating hot celebs they have a bad rivalry on the track fighting for positions gets double retirement and other bad things eventually he realises she only pushed him away out of self preservation and she mist have loved him to have done so much and cared for him the way she did he apologizes and asks her to give them a chance she's shocked but she agrees, but she says they shouldnt be together until the season is over cue sexual tension she misses him too much and he comes into her hotel room to get a fright shes in his bed and they cuddle she wins the championship after 5 years of being together and racing, he retires proposes to her, to the shock of the world

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dryasiulia · 7 years

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August 21st: Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day

This idea is fantastic and I want to support it as best I can. I’m constantly amazed that you guys take your free time to provide this for us; so this is quite literally the least I can do! There’s a lot more below~~~~~~

I wish I had the time today to reread everyone’s work; AND to read everything I haven’t yet. You all deserve pages and pages of praise; I’m sorry this is all I can do today. In roughly the order in which they were originally consumed:

@claudeng80 Even if it hadn’t been my fanfic introduction (If you don’t count watching GoT), Noble AU would still hold a special place in my heart. Honestly everything you’ve done is amazing. I still haven’t made it through the RIDICULOUS amount of happy you made for us during bingo. And that’s not even considering the ones I DID get to that I want to reread ASAP (omg that fairytale obi dragon one). And of course Snowdrop~~~ No words~~~~ I even enjoy the stuff you do that is outside my wheelhouse *cough* star trek. Plus, Akagami on the Bayou is literally perfection.

@sabraeal It’s lovely to see someone who is so talented spend so much time appreciating and supporting others. The comments/reviews that you (and Joanna and Andi) leave in the community are literally as entertaining as the stories. That said, obviously now I’m going to mention Seven Suitors because duh. It is Canon But Better and I hope there isn't a sekrit counter somewhere that shows how many times Ive read it....maybe even with the Haki B-sides inserted timeline appropriately~~~~ And I don’t have enough time to get into Truth In Masquerade (Or In Which There Will be Ascots; yup, I’m pretty sure that was promised, even if it was just in my head it still counts), modern AU, OFC fae AU (why am I capitalizing AU?), high school, daemons, the kiss of life (I may think about randomly at times) all the bb obi backstory stuff, the amazing haki stuff, and the one shots! Your 100 prompts was frankly, astonishing, and during a Very Bad Time for me. It was so amazing to have something like that to escape to. This workings of this site remain a bit of a mystery to me; things that are original and amazing frequently get missed or ignored; and a picture of a shoe with a cat in it like breaks the internet?

@superhappybubbleslove again with the “someone who is so talented spends so much time appreciating and supporting others” For me, watchtower is like “Uncomfortable RL Canon but Won’t Ever be Canon Because Shoujo” You do such an astonishing job of like Easter Egg Multi Level Pains. As if the over-arching pain isn’t enough; there are little poison barbs expertly sprinkled in specially designed for the utmost torment. Of all the pains (main story pains; not touching the B-SIDE pains because I’m still recovering from Friday) the little ones stick with me the most. Ugh, that part where he drops the spoons is honestly like the worst for me…..I’ve just upset myself again. And likewise with the I REALLY REALLY don’t want to know my reread count xD I don’t have the time to even get started on what Melt, the Mountain Lion au, and everything else deserves. (Like, I’m still kind of angry about how much I enjoy the ballet au - I mean wut?!)

@infinitelystrangemachinex your commentary is ALWAYS +100~ Automation Heart……I love your Shirayuki so much. She’s always a science badass. And the chemistry with Obi, LITERALLY no matter what the set up, is ALWAYS perfect. I’m not comfortable admitting 1. how many times I have read Analysand 2. how many times I then REREread it when you did Overflow — also rereading Overflow obviously and 3. How many times I read St Elmos Fire once I finally realized I hadn’t read it. Let’s just leave it at….a lot…. There are still a few things from last year I haven’t gotten to; someone might point out that I MAYBE would’ve had more than enough time to read those I had I skipped a rererereread or two….don’t pester me with your logics~ I’m sure they are equally amazing; I can’t wait to get to them!

@nebluus Apparently I’ve missed a few things on the classic “you must read” obiyuki lists. However, I have at least read Blizzard. ~~~~A FEW times. It most definitely belongs on the list. Everything about it is perfect. Ugggh….the part about how he would be a great father… “Are you the fire Obi?” Dead. Even though no true relationship stuffs happens it literally kills me every time.

@xaphrin sometimes I worry from your tumblrs you don’t understand how awesome you are; but then I think surely you see how many people tell you your awesome….right?!?! I can be a little bit of a cinnamon bun when it comes to reading sexy times, but I feel like you always try (nay succeed) to include it as part of the Whole Relationship. AND AND AND can we talk about how phone sex AU obi is. the. hottest. obi. Which is so weird…I mean if someone would’ve told me I’d love “phone sex” au I would’ve rolled my eyes. BUT ITS SO GREAT. And obviously diplomacy. OBVIOUSLY.

@ruleofexception for me you are like a box of cakes. (real talk, some chocolates are gross, all cake is delicious) “dead obi with oxygen shirayuki” nuuu please don’t do that….omg that was amazing. Hunger games?!?!?….moar pls all of the hunger games. Disembodied voices??…..amazing yes please (I loved Knowing You so much!!!). Whew and there are many things I haven’t yet said about Fall of the Crown….but I super love it’s gothic feels and I am super excite~~ (The knife naming/giving?!?!!) And you have more I haven’t even gotten to yet; I can’t wait~

@akai-vampire you take the bare-bones of canon and breath life into it~ When the smallest obiyuki bit happens, my initial reaction is “oh god nina will make me pay for this shortly” Late at Night is so lovely; I feel like “what happened if Shirayuki didn’t make it out” isn’t explored much~ And omg that blurted confession in Dreams….. And honestly, if you seriously SERIOUSLY get to 50 in “The Fifty Times You Stole My Heart” you WILL kill me. It’s only at 6 and I can barely make it now~~~ Srs. All of it.

@vivianwisteria okay, the “how Obi and Shirayuki met as kids” canon mystery is ongoing… However, the way you handled it in Adagio Appassionato is my absolute favorite~ (Canon needs to retcon Violin Shirayuki if Sorata ever actually gives us the backstory there.) I love it so much that when you dropped that bomb chapter I MAY have put off a serious work assignment to go reread everything IMMEDIATELY. I LOVE all of Conductor Obi with Issues so much~ Okay, and Love and Other Monstrosities I mean WUT. There are no other words for that…just WUT WUT WUT!!! Whew, and Impasse, the Damon Lindelof (but better) bad guys here are very mysterious and exciting. And OF COURSE I love found in translation…. And obviously I am SO VERY EXCITE about Ex Gratia~

@jaygirl987 The “worldbuilding” for Neighbors is astounding. For srs, you have fleshed out Bruce, THE CAT, more than most fiction manages to with human side characters. I literally can not wait to see where this goes; everyone’s been established so beautifully. I adore your obiyuki relationship one-shots as well. I can’t wait to catch up on the bingo stories I missed!!!!

@meibemeibelline I haven’t finished all of Apple Red and Gold yet…I REALLY need to make a obiyuki “to read” list post it note. However, I did get to Counting Coins and Motel on the Hill during Bingo. I LOVE your storytelling. Your descriptions and atmosphere are wonderful. Counting Coins was adorable, plus Obi as a hot teacher yes please. Motel on the Hill is so lovely~~~ It’s beautifully melancholy. I can’t wait to read the rest; I’m sorry it’s taken me this long!!

@codango obviously the road to Clarines is gravel is amazing. You succeeded where 18 years of my real life experience did not…you made the cowboy aesthetic attractive~ I adore your characterization of EVERYONE in this and I’ve been super excited for every chapter. Seriously, the individual elements should not appeal to me, but your skill and ability made them in to something I love.

@glitter-and-golden Okay, I never knew that I needed a mithra obi, BUT I DID. If I Walk It's With You Beside Me is a pleasure to read~ SO, I’m also a sucker for fictional food; and after I read this the first time I totally had to eat breakfast for dinner~ I love everything about this, Ryuu, their cottage, Zen, sassy mithra Obi. I am so excite!

OMG this was supposed to be faster… -.- I’m past out of time, so please forgive my abbreviated loves:

@onoheiwa - both your kiss stories were absolutely adorable~~ And I loved the amusement park; Obi’s disappointment when the park was closed was perfect. I can’t wait to read the rest of your stuff!!

@krispy-kream - I loved haki as the amyrlin and izana as forsaken SO MUCH. My memories of early WoT are mixed to say the least….If you want to go ahead and redo all the early books I’d be %100 on board with that.

@another-miracle - your intermissions are beautiful~ your prose is also lovely in general, I’m so sorry I’m behind!!! I’m VERY MUCH looking forward to reading everything you’ve given us~

@littleaverill - your role reversal au was great~~~ I love the idea of obi growing up in the shop~ I can only imagine how he’d be different. I REALLY love your style; there’s an element of the unknown and the implied that always leaves me like I just had a piece of cake that was EVER SO SLIGHTLY smaller that I would’ve cut myself — super delicious but if you even want to send me another slice I’d be okay with it! xD

@nonstopdoodle - The Spice of Life was so cute! Ryuu as AI was perfect~~ There was something very nostalgically Firefly about it that I loved so much~ And just ftr, your ponies are SO SO SO CUTE

@rebeccaravenroth - okay, the balcony-plants story for bingo was so adorable. I am fluent in passive aggressive post it notes. I adore your writing style and storytelling~

I’m sorry I left out a few AO3 people that I don’t know their Tumblr blog name or may not be on Tumblr!!!

#fanfic appreciation day #obiyuki #thank you all so much for what you give us #I wish there was more I could do to appreciate you~~~#<3 <3 <3

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