#join me in my prayer circle for good dad

[its-chelisey-stuff]

appreciation post for the best kdrama dad of the year

i know where KiHo learned to be green flag material and it wasn't from his sperm donor...

the scream I let out when I saw this!!!! I seriously hope no harm comes his way, especially after coming face to face with psycho sperm donor this ep. I fear for him the most out of all five members of the family (I'm including MokHa). Because that sick man thinks good dad stole his wife and children.

I love how amazing he is. He took one look at a hesitant and fearful woman and knew something was not right and then took on the job of protecting her and her boys, who are now very much his children because he raised them, protected them, and served as a wonderful role model of what a real man should be. And he did all of it out of love.

look, despite my feelings about this "love triangle" (can it even be called that? neither KiHo nor MoKha suspected it and she never came close to liking him) I feel for him and I applaud Cha Hakyeon for his performance. He broke my heart a little.

Sadly, my feelings about the character have not changed much from how they first started. I do like him when he's being useful, investigating and moving the plot along (even if he was frustrating at times), but I do not like him as a pining second lead, as it was unnecessary. He could've been MokHa's friend without developing feelings for her and I think it was really cruel on the writer's part to write his crush for her, when that was very much just there to keep the suspense of who the real KiHo was out of the 2 bros. when it only lasted for five eps.

[lengthofropes]

I hope this question doesn’t come off as insensitive, because I truly don’t mean it that way, but have you/your family ever thought about leaving Ukraine? Like was it ever a discussion when Russia started their attack?

If you don’t want to answer, it’s fine! Also, i know it’s not much of anything, but I do keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

Thank you. And its ok, I can answer that.

Yeah, we had a discussion. I’m pretty sure every Ukrainian family had at least one of those. But you gotta understand, it all comes to not what you’re leaving behind, but whom you’re leaving behind. Because no matter what you do your social circle will be torn either way. Every person has a right to make their own decision, and you just have to respect it.

I didn’t want to leave. My truth is I’d rather die here than leave, because my home is here, this is where I belong. And I kinda stick with this statement to this day.

My father didn’t want to leave too, and he also wasn’t allowed because he was 58 when full scale war started. He wanted to join territorial defense troops. Mom didn’t want to leave the country and nothing in this world would’ve make her leave him so… Also she couldn’t leave her mother and brother.

My sister was completely devastated cause her fiancé was in France, but she didn’t want to leave the country and she couldn’t leave us.

That all was so freaking insane when i remember it…

I also remember how our parents tried to persuade us (me and sis) to leave when the situation rapidly got worse. Jfc I even remember we agreed… and packed, and said our goodbyes… and then just… couldn’t do it…

My sister has left Ukraine in April. She was suffering from continuous panic attacks and nightmares, especially after numerous report of war crimes (r*ape and t*orture) russian soldiers commit on occupied territories. So we collectively decided she should just go and be with her loved one. That wasn’t an easy decision. Idk if you can imagine it, but seeing your sister crossing the border and knowing there’s a good chance you’ll never see her again it’s not something you deal with easily.

So uhh, yeah, now we’re like this. She visits once or twice a year, and we visit her. This year our dad turned 60 so he’s allowed to cross the border now, and he and mom went to see her in France ☺️.

Some of my friends who left and lived abroad for some time are now back. Some don’t. Some leave now.

I’m staying home. I can’t imagine starting a whole new LIFE elsewhere. Just… i cannot.

[fictionfunshop]

Whore Phase - One Shot (Spencer Reid)

Thanks @moderatelydelusional for the inspo - I hope I did your idea justice.

18+ - Filth and not for children's eyes.

MGG / Spencer Reid are killing my feels

........

*200 LIKES!!! You've all made me happy. Currently writing more filth for your eyes **

You weren’t expecting him to text.

He usually called you when he wanted to see you, purring down the line telling you all the filthy things he wanted to do to you, which always made your thighs clench. You decided to have a Friday night in; you already filled your belly with your favourite take-out, had a long hot bath with a new book you picked up earlier in the week. Now you were sitting here catching up on some trashy television you dare not tell anyone you watch, painting your toenails when your phone came alive, making you jump and smudging your baby toe in the process.

Can I come over? – Spencer

No hello, or how are you, which you knew meant he had a bad case and needed you to let off some frustration. You understood and didn’t mind him using you like this, your Friday night instantly looking up and thanking your earlier self for taking your time shaving. You immediately type back your reply.

Course. See you soon.– Y/N

You jumped up from the sofa and go to your bedroom to see what nice underwear you had clean, instantly slipping on a lavender chemise set you picked up a few weeks ago, immediately thinking of him. You were fully aware of the agreement you both had – he told you he didn’t want a girlfriend because of his job, and you were working through a bad breakup and wanted some no-strings fun, so when he was free, he would come over to yours, never his and you would both “chill out” AKA screw each other’s brains out.

You knew the absolute basics about each other. You knew he worked for the FBI, which you thought was an elaborate chat up line until one night he came to you straight from a case, his badge in his pocket, gun on his hip and stacks of paperwork pouring out of his bag. You knew he was an only child and that his mother lived in Vegas, his dad not to be seen. He enjoyed reading, teasing some of the titles on your shelf, and he was bisexual, something which didn’t surprise you in the slightest when he admitted he had been with men before you. Even though he knew next to nothing about you, he never made you feel like a whore, he never slipped out in the middle of the night, and if he was free the following day, breakfast was always his treat at the café around the corner or the near-by diner.

You wandered back into the sitting room, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge and pouring yourself a glass. You sat back down on your couch, your mind now on high alert that he was coming to see you, thinking of all the ways tonight is going to go down.

He has fucked you senseless in every corner of this place.

From your location on the couch where you straddled him one lazy Sunday morning he was off work, the tiny kitchen table now being held together by prayers after you both came back here drunk from separate nights out, or the shower where two weeks previous he teased you until you were delirious before pinning you against the tiled wall. You didn’t have time to register anything else when your obnoxious buzzer rang throughout the apartment. You buzzed him up and left the front door open. You go to fix him a glass of wine and change the channel to a random news station. You’re still in the kitchen when you hear him drop his bags near the door and take his shoes off before you go to meet him in the sitting room.

He looks sexy but exhausted. The circles under his eyes evident, and you wonder why he came here instead of straight to his place. His hair is sticking in all directions in desperate need of a trim, and his shirt is creased from sitting on the plane. He’s attempting to take off his tie as he wanders over to you, interrupting the process by giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“Here, let me,” you hand him the glass of wine before you slide it from around his neck quickly; you fold it neatly and hand it back to him. He gives you a small smile before stuffing it into his pocket and downing the rest of the glass of wine. He places the glass down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms and a tight hug.

“You look beautiful as always,” he mumbled in your ear. “This for me?” his fingers rub the strap of the fabric.

“Yeah, I got it a few weeks ago. You like?” he nods his head, his eyes trailing all over your body, his hands following their path. The flimsy material did little to hide anything from him.

“I love your body, “ his hands grip your hips, pushing them into his, feeling him get hard through his slacks, “knowing you were waiting for me, in this…” he gripped the back of your head before clashing your lips together.

His hands wandered around you, cupping your ass, making their way up the back of the thin vest, his fingers running down your spine as you get to work, unbuttoning his shirt, as soon as you could get your hands to feel the flesh underneath you did, your nails digging into his shoulders. He broke the kiss and took your hand in his, and lead you to your bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and by instinct, you knelt between his thighs, your lips meeting again. This time your hand was rubbing the bulge; his were tangled in your hair. You wasted no time in undoing his trousers and releasing him from his boxers. He sucked in his breath when he felt your lips on his hips and nipping at his thighs as you gripped him, squeezing his base with every fluid motion. His finger tangles back into your hair when he feels your tongue lick the head of his cock, your lips wrap around him, sliding him down your throat with ease. Although he was bigger than other guys you have been with, you had enough practice with him. You look up at him; he was staring back at you.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he encourages you, as he grips your hair tighter and you open your mouth wider, signalling him that he’s in control.

Looking at him above you, his hair even messier than before and his lip tucked behind his teeth, you could feel how wet you were getting. You were sure he could see how hard your nipples were through the flimsy material covering you. You couldn’t control yourself; the hand not working on him goes between your legs and dips into your centre to find yourself right before you circled your clit, moaning as you continued to suck him off.

He lifted your head off his cock, spit dripping down your chin.

“Are you touching yourself? Does sucking my cock get you off? “ You nod your head.

“ I want you to show me how you do it..”

This was a new idea from him.

You stand up and take off your chemise and underwear before you crawl onto the bed. As you settle down on the pillow, he stands up too and undresses before settling between your thighs on his knees. You pinch your nipples hard and let out a moan as you feel his fingers lightly trace the outside of your thighs. You move your hand down between your legs before you settle your fingers back into your centre, curling them to reach the spot he does with ease. You crane your head back and let out a sigh as you settle back into a rhythm, occasionally pulling out to circle the bundle of nerves that makes your leg twitch and your hips match your hands. You feel him pin you down to the mattress.

“Look at me, Y/N, “ Your eyes snap open as they meet his, now completely black, the hand not on your hip, slowly stroking himself. “This is better than I imagined. Is this what you do when no one is around to fuck you?”

You nod your head as you let his name sigh from your lips. You can feel how close you are; you’re now dripping between your thighs, a thin sheen of sweat now covering your body, and he knows it too. He bends his head down, his hair lightly tickling your chest, and his mouth finds your hard nipple, his teeth sinking into it lightly before he circles his tongue around it. That’s all you need from him to let go, his mouth moving to yours to capture your screams, and you rode out your orgasm. You open your eyes to see him staring at you, still hard. He lifts the hand between your thighs and licks your two fingers clean as he stares at you. His actions turned you on further as you felt yourself throb.

Nothing else needed to be said between you. He climbs on top of you and settles himself between your thighs. He nips at your neck before he slips in; you can feel yourself grip around his cock, still not used to his size. He pauses for a moment before he slams back into you, hissing in your ear. By instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him go deeper, hitting your cervix as he bottoms out; It should hurt but it feels like heaven. He settles into a quick rhythm, fucking whatever problems he had out on you, but you don’t care. The feeling is building up in the pit of your stomach quickly as moans slip from your mouth.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, a smirk on his lips.

He knows that you’re in the same delirious state as him. His hair is matted around the base of his neck; you can feel it around your fingers, which have tangled themselves there.

“Come for me, Spence, I’m close…so close…” you beg him.

“Me too, won’t last long…”

One of his hands moves from above your head to the headboard to keep up the rhythm as one of your hand moves between your legs, and you rub your clit, he stares down at the show before kissing you again. You bite his lip and tighten even further around him as your orgasm washes over you, chanting his name as he continues to ram into you. A few more sloppy strokes, and he joins you, swear words fall from his mouth, and his eyes squeeze closed. He pecks your lips again before he collapses next to you. You both lay there for a few moments trying to catch your breath before you get up to clean yourself off in the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, you can see some red marks on your neck from him already appearing. You pop back into your kitchen to grab some water before you head back into your room. He’s put his boxers back on and is sitting up against the headboard.

“Here, I figured you’d want one” you hand over a bottle as he gives you a soft smile.

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Well, it wasn’t a hard decision, a hot FBI agent who wants to have sex with me…” he rolls his eyes at your playfulness as he takes a swig.

“Well, this FBI agent is tired now after no sleep for nearly 30 hours, so how about we finish this off in the morning and some pancakes?”

What girl can say no to that?

[drunkoctopusinc]

Ok so I’m working sound for this church that rents out a theatre i work at and I have been inspired to write a Christian Movie™. Here’s how it goes-

GenericTroubledWhiteBoy is in need of a job and can’t turn to his EdgyRocker friends for help. Maybe he’s newly sober, maybe his friends are just godless bums depends how much we want to pretend this is a good movie. Regardless of the reason, our protagonist needs a job so he gets a job doing sound for a church. Throw in a scene where the EdgyRocker friends are like “ew church” give our protagonist amble opportunity to say that he doesn’t like god but also doesn’t really know much about Him, and then we get to his first day on the job.

He is v grumpy, v cynical, he absolutely must get roped into a prayer circle (because this keeps happening to ME). So there he is at peak grumpiness sitting at his sound board when suddenly- oh who’s this? A pretty blonde girl? Shocking! She’s a volunteer controlling the slide presentation or something. Her name is something like Hope or Charity one of those noun-as-a-name names. She’s got like disney princess powers or something so she breaks through his grumpy man shell.

I think you see where this is going now. NounName will bring SadBoy into the loving arms of Jesus. Further scenes will include; SadBoy willingly joining the prayer circle and even making a prayer request (featuring a knowing smile from NounName), SadBoy’s EdgyRocker friends judging his growing Jesus Boner by suddenly turning into a cringey atheist YouTuber, NounName’s mom telling her to be careful chatting with a nonbeliever to which NounName replies she “sees something in him”, NounName’s dad giving his approval to sound boy (cause like fuck women having agency ya know?).

Our final scene is SadBoi getting baptized and then sharing a good Christian™ handhold with NounName. Scenes of their wedding/family life play as credits roll. I’m calling it Gospel. (There will be no real gospel music tho to be clear- only WhitePeople Jesus music)

Now, here’s the thing- this movie works the other way too. Let me explain

We still start with SadBoi working at the church cause he needs money. He still meets NounName while she’s volunteering. BUT instead of NounName bringing SadBoy into the loving arms of Jesus, SadBoy provides a window to the outside world which makes NounName realize this church actually is terrible. Cause like SadBoy isn’t sad cause he doesn’t have any Jesus in his life, he’s sad cause he hasn’t had his coffee yet. Also like gay people aren’t evil, in fact they make dope desserts, and this satan music is actually a bop, also his tattoos are lowkey cute, and is that a WOMAN with AGENCY?! Oh sign me right up for that shit. So now instead of SadBoy getting baptized, NounName leaves the church.

Now- stay with me here- I have a sinister plan.

You make Movie #2 BUT

You market it like its movie #1.

Troll all the Jesus freaks. Make Twitter light up with angry toxic Christians. I’ll bask in the glory of there indignant anger as they are completely unaware they’re just making my point.

[boimgfrog]

hey @pantoranprincess​ i uh. i wrote it <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139768

full fic under the cut

The two men were seated at a table, enjoying lunch despite the… cozy size of Luke’s office. Conversation flowed easily, albeit mostly one-sided.

               “anyways, that’s when I saw Obi-Wan, my first master-” Luke paused, noticing Din’s helmet tilt slightly at the name, “you do know who Obi-Wan was, right?”

               Din froze, not expecting the Jedi to pick up on his confusion, “the name sounds familiar… Bo-Katan mentioned him once,” he took a sip from his straw, “said he was a sister-seducing- man-whore? Was he some kind of escort?”

               He waited as his words washed over Luke. The jedi blinked twice, a smile flickering past his lips.

               “yes,” Luke nodded, “he was, excellent job,” he spooned more soup into his own bowl, hiding his smile behind its large spoon.

               “and he was your master?” Din asked, tilting his head forward.

               “mhmm,” Luke set the spoon back into the bowl, matching din’s gaze through his lashes, “taught me everything he knew,”

               Din coughed, turning his attention back towards his lunch. he sipped at it, ignoring the blush that crept under his helmet.

The jedi huffed, eyes twinkling. Something told Din that maybe, just maybe, he’d lied about the Obi-wan thing.

                                                          -><-

The back of Luke’s head hit the ground, pulling a wheeze from his body. Above him, Din stood poised, cradling a very fussy green toddler. He extended a hand toward the fallen jedi, but Luke waved him off, leaning up on his elbows.

“’s nothing, no offense but,” he gestured to Grogu, who had calmed down some, “he’s no Vader, I’ll be fine,” this time, he accepted Din’s hand, hardly dwelling on how easily he pulled him up.

“Vader?” Din asked, shifting the baby to his hip, and pocketing the darksaber he’d previously been using.

Luke looked up at the Mandalorian, tilting his head with a smile, “Darth Vader? The emperor’s right-hand man?”

Din’s helmet betrayed to hint of recognition. Unbelievable. No way, there’s no way he was this clueless.

“big cape, scary helmet? Red lightsaber?” Luke tried, wracking his brain.

“oh, you mean like the guy on those old recruitment posters?”

“those- the recruitment posters?”

Din nodded, “I’d see ‘em plastered up in bars and stuff, back before the empire fell,”

Recruitment posters. Din, one of the best bounty hunters Luke had ever met, king of Mandalore himself, had only heard of Darth Vader via recruitment posters. Luke felt his chest flutter. He nodded along with whatever Din said next, mind elsewhere. If he hadn’t heard of Darth Vader… what else had he managed to miss?

                                                         -><-

“Din!” Luke called from down the hallway, footsteps tripping as he ran inside Din’s ship, “Din! My sister’s here,” he said, knocking on the solid metal hull, “She wants to meet you!” his voice made it sound like an important event, though Din could hardly see why exchanging niceties with the sister of a backwater jedi warranted such flare.

“mm,” Din pulled back the door, peering down at Luke who was bouncing on his toes, “why?”

Luke ignored him, grabbing Din by his gloved hand, and dragging him towards his office, “this could be a big opportunity for you,” he rattled on, eyes shining beneath his mess of dust-streaked hair, “it’s good for you to make connections like this, given your newly-found title-”

“connections?” Din interrupted, “what do you mean?”

Luke spared a confused glance back at the Mandalorian, still steadily walking him towards his sister, “my sister? Leia Organa?”

Din offered up no response, but Luke was enamored by it nonetheless. He could understand not knowing much about galactic history, after all, he was under the impression that Din lead a particularly... sheltered childhood. But things that were happening now? The new republic?

“she was the princess of Alderaan? She helps lead the New Republic?”

“Alderaan...” Din paused, “that’s the one that blew up, right?”

“yes,” Luke dropped Din’s hand, unhooking the tarp that shielded his office from view, “yes, it’s the one that blew up,”

“mm,” Din hummed thoughtfully, “is she a jedi too?”

“sort of, I’ve been helping her train,” Luke said, checking his hair in the gleam of Din’s helmet.

“must’ve been why they blew up Alderaan then,” Din held still, “they were trying to kill her before she got too powerful,”

Luke’s hands stilled. He stared up into the Mandalorian’s visor, “huh,” he said, unable to stop his lips from twitching, “maybe so,” Luke turned around, brushing the tarp aside for Din to enter, hiding his smile behind the fabric.

                                                          -><-

It was almost cute, how little Din seemed to know about the galaxy he lived in. it didn’t really matter, of course. Most of it was just history lessons, nothing that would seriously impede him on a mission or in battle. And he wasn’t stupid by any means. He could speak more languages than Luke could count on his hands, flesh and robotic, and had flight skills that could rival even the most trained X-wing pilot. Still, it was hard not to feel fond when the Mandalorian only just now realized that Luke and Leia were twins.

“how was I supposed to know!”

“Din, starlight, our father would’ve been found out the second one of us was born, how exactly did you think he managed to swerve the jedi code to have another baby?”

“listen-” Din huffed, biting back his argument when he saw how ecstatic Luke was over this whole ordeal. Luke only nodded along expectantly, crossing one leg over the other. He was nothing if not encouraging.

“to be fair,” Din started, scowling at Luke’s twinkling smile, “she’s a princess, and you grew up on Tatooine,” he huffed, “and you never mentioned your dad was a jedi,” he added quickly, hoping Luke would miss it in his euphoria. No such luck.

“Din,” Luke stood up, reaching to cradle the Mandalorian’s helmet in his hands, “Anakin Skywalker? Did you think that was a coincidence?”

“it’s a big galaxy, there’s like half a billion ‘Djarin’s out there,” Din answered, but the bite had left his voice. It was hard to be frustrated when Luke was so close, all soft smiles and saying “Din” like it was a prayer.

Din leaned into the jedi’s touch. He’d blame it on the weight of his helmet later, and Luke would play along, teasingly offering to hold the helmet if it ever got too heavy. It was only ever teasing though. Luke never asked for more than Din was willing to give.

                                                         -><-

 They were pressed together, Din’s arm wrapped lazily around Luke’s waist, the jedi’s head leaning against his cold, armored shoulder. The beaches on Luke’s planet were nothing special, but the sunsets, oh the sunsets were spectacular. Grogu had been poking at Luke’s brain all day, playing memories of beach days on coruscant and building sandcastles with the crechemasters, until Luke finally caved and suited the baby up for a day in the water, inviting Din along.

Grogu had the time of his life, taking turns force-throwing sand at his dad and splashing his master until they joined in the fun. After a full day of entertaining the little gremlin, though, the two men had decided to impose Nap Time on the kiddo, sprawling out together on one of the many beach towels Luke had brought. (“you didn’t grow up on Tatooine, Din. Trust me, sand gets everywhere”)

The baby was fast asleep against Din’s armor, wrapped up so his head didn’t get bruised by the beskar.

“this was nice, huh?” Luke asked, shifting to look up at the Mandalorian. His eyes brushed over the thin stripe of exposed facial hair before he pulled his gaze away, embarrassed. Even the smallest of glimpses got his heart racing. Ridiculous, honestly.

“mhmm,” Din absentmindedly rubbed circles on Grogu’s back with his thumb, “could’ve done without all the sand in my armor, though,”

Luke laughed, “ugh I know,” he shifted again, pulling his arms from the poncho he was wearing, “I always get so much sand and dust in my hand, it’s the worst,”

Din tilted his helmet, “in your hand?”

“yeah,” Luke fiddled with his glove, pulling it off before tugging on one of his fingers, revealing the intricate system of wires, “you didn’t know?”

Din knew he was staring, and he knew that wasn’t polite but he just- “you’re… part droid?”

Luke laughed at that, a full, hearty laugh, one that had him gasping for air and rolling on his back. Din reached for his hand, holding it up so that it didn’t hit the sand as Luke fell back.

“yes,” Luke said, catching his breath, “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he flicked his finger again, closing the wiring hatch. Din hadn’t removed his hand, so Luke twisted their fingers together, “you really didn’t know?”

“how was I supposed to?”

“the lifting things six times my weight didn’t tip you off?”

Din sputtered, “you’re a jedi??? You lift things six times your weight all the time???”

That got Luke laughing again, eyes twinkling in the setting sun. He was teasing Din, yes, but he was also so, so deeply fond of him. This, Luke asking questions, Din answering truthfully even though it made him look silly, this was everything to Luke. Luke trusted the Mandalorian, of course he did, and this made Luke feel like Din trusted him as well. just the thought alone was enough to make the Jedi smile wider, letting his head fall against the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more.

                                                           -><-

Luke paced around Din’s ship. It was bigger than his last one, and somehow even harder to navigate.

“Din, where’s your holoprojector?” Luke had promised to tell Leia when they were getting close, and they’d be closing in on Coruscant within the hour.

“don’t have one,” came the response from the dashboard, stopping Luke in his tracks.

“don’t- do you at least have a data pad?” no holoprojector? Maybe Din was poorer than Luke thought.

“yeah,” Din shuffled around for a moment, before handing Luke a beat-up data pad that was at least a century old.

“Din this thing is ancient,” he said, frowning at the actual layer of crust on the screen, “does it even have holonet?”

“nope,”

“wh-“ Luke was dumbfounded, “how do you get your news? What if something big happens??”

“if I need to know it, someone will tell me,” Din said as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, but the thought left Luke reeling.

“Din, starlight, you didn’t know who Darth Vader was,”

“I did so-”

“yeah, from recruitment posters-”

“it still counts-”

“no it doesn’t-”

They fought like that for a moment, back and forth, until it dawned on Luke.

“holy stars,” he said, cutting Din’s rant short, “Din, is this why you didn’t know about Obi-Wan? And Anakin being my father? And Leia and the new republic?” Luke sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, scooping up Grogu and setting him in his lap.

Din grumbled, turning his attention back to hyperspace, “it wasn’t important,”

“starlight it was Darth Vader-”

The two started arguing again, bickering in that old married couple kind of way. Luke couldn’t help but smile at the situation. All this time, all these silly little accidents and conversations, all because the Mandalorian hadn’t bothered to install a holoprojector in his ship. It was amazing, really.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, you don’t know anything about Mandalorian culture,”

“Din no one knows anything about Mandalorian culture,”

Din slumped in his seat, hands gripping loosely at the steering controls. Luke leaned forward, bumping the Mandalorian’s with his head until Din faced him, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“hey,” Luke said in hushed tones, “for the record, I thought it was kinda hot,”

Din let out a breathy laugh, pulling back slightly to look in the jedi’s eyes.

“that says more about you than it does me, Skywalker,”

Luke matched his laugh, Din joining in before resting his forehead against Luke’s again. They were gonna get an earful from Leia when they landed without a party to welcome them, but for now they would simply rest, all shiny armor and gentle curls, bathed in the glow of hyperspace.

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one

A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!

SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                   *     *     *     *     *

Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  

“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”

“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.

“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”

“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.

“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”

“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”

“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”

Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”

Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”

Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.

***

There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  

After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.

“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”

“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”

“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”

Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”

“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”

Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.

“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  

“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”

“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”

Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”

“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.

***

“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  

“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”

Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.

Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”

Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”

Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”

Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”

“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”

Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”

“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”

He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”

Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”

“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”

“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”

He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”

“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”

“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.

“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”

“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”

“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”

Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”

“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.

“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”

“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”

Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”

***

“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.

Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.

He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.

Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”

Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”

“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”

“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.

Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”

“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.

He would definitely be calling.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Can we please have April introducing their friend, the reader, to each of the brothers(separately). Like they were on a lead about mutagen being distributed to some shady people and they would’ve almost died if it weren’t for the turtles. When asked who were those guys, April sets them up to meet one of the brothers as to not overwhelm them. Besides a bit of hysterical laughing and self rambling “Giant ninja turtles. Okay sure!” They take it all like a champ. Sorry if this is too much. 😅

I think I understand this one and it’s not too much at all, just sorry if I misunderstood and get it wrong

Leo

Obviously, April introduces you to Leo first

you had snuck into one of the shadiest places you think you’ve ever been in order to find out who was distributing this mysterious mutagen which had half of the city looking like animal farm and the other half scared out of their wits

but things took a turn when you asked too many questions

that was always your mistake, bad guys don’t ask questions.

But Leo was the one who helped you up from the floor when you hid behind the sofa

they’d blown the lights out before they came in so you didn’t really get a good look at them other that noticing they were big, big boys.

so before April introduces you she warms you that they’re not..of the human variety.

You didn’t understand until she opened the door and sat at the breakfast nook was a very large turtle man wearing a blue mask

“Holy fucking shit. dick, fucking fuckery” you say in a low, almost expressionless voice

you’d gone full circle from being so intensely surprised that your voice came out as bored

Leo looked up at you 

“I’m sorry” you say “that was rude, what I meant was: holy fucking shit, dick, fucking fuckery” but this time you say it with feeling.

Leo gives a kind smile and a small chuckle. it wasn’t the worst reaction he’s had from a human before but it was one of the funniest.

that’s when the mumbling starts.

“I mean if you’d said giant turtles I would’ve- well, no, I wouldn’t have believed you but come on how is Kachhapa over there even real I mean seriously and is that? Ye-yep that’s a sword, he’s a giant turtle with a sword. Not sure if that’s cool or irresponsib-LOOK AT HIM!”

then you just start laughing, which gets a nervous laugh from everyone else in the room before a long silence

Leo finally talks

“...Well, I’m glad I could see you again in such different, less dangerous circumstances. I hope you’re staying out of trouble”

April decides you guys should leave it at that, if you’re gonna be weird then you should see Mikey next

Mikey

Leaving Leo to go see MIkey you mumble “What does he mean ‘stay out of trouble’ he’s not my dad”

so April hurries you along faster

you stop her before she knocks on the door to Mikey’s room

“so there’s another one? Of them? Ok just let me gather myself”

you half attempt some prayer hands together yoga pose thing before April just knocks anyways

when you walk in, you don;t know what you were expecting but somehow are surprised all over again that another mutant is in front of you

but you keep it together this time

Mikey is so cheery and happy to have company that isn’t April or his brothers

he waltzes up to you and does a little half bow with a small “Hey there, lovely. How’re you?”

all you can do is turn to April and ask “The turtles flirt?”

 she widens her eyes as if to say “Stop fucking acting this way” 

you sigh, look back at Mikey and smile

“Hi! Thanks for saving my life before, really appreciate that and all, being alive is-is kind of my jam so .....”

he beams at you, now he remembers you

you exchange a few more sentences out of politeness before excusing yourself to use the bathroom

Inside the bathroom you give yourself a much needed pep talk in the mirror that starts with “you dumb bitch, act casual!”

when you hear a voice from outside the door say “Normally pep talks are supposed to be motivational, not self deprecating but go off, I guess”

Donnie

That voice belongs to the one and only: Donnie

you open the door and immediately just say “holy shit, I’m so sorry you had to hear that”

he’s so nice about it, though

all smiles and “It’s ok, we’ve all been there. Who are you trying to act casual for? If I may ask”

You explain that this is kind of awkward, but being around mutants isn’t really something you grew up accustomed to so this is a whole new world for you “And I called your brother Kachhapa!” you blurt out

which makes him really laugh

“Don’t worry, I bet that reference was lost on him” he reassures 

you compliment his glasses

because that’s what normal people do, right? Point out stuff they like about each other

this one has a more calming affect than Mikey did and you appreciate that so much, but he warns you about his final brother

says he’s a hot head and you should watch what you say a little

finally April finds you “So I see you’ve met Donnie now” then leans in closer to you “Hope you’ve got all of that out of your system before you meet Raph”

you reassure her that you’re a perfection functioning human being now and both Donnie and April walk you to the gym to see Raph

Raph

you get to the gym and the biggest turtle of them all is bench pressing the biggest weights you’ve ever seen

you gulp

mental pep talk time since the purple one interrupted your last one

“ok, he’s big, he’s strong, he could rip you in two so easily. why does that sound kind of good right now, though? stay on track, brain! Ok, just tell him like a gym pun or something?”

“Hey!” you call over to him, Donnie and April widening their eyes at your boldness “you hear about that guy who asked the receptionist at the gym which machine he should use to impress women? She pointed to the ATM”

he cracked a smile!

you couldn’t believe it!

this big badass guy who you could see as you got closer was lifting 450lb cracked a smile at a dumb gym joke

you soon discovered he didn’t say much but at least this wasn’t anywhere close to the interaction of fire and death you had pictured when Donnie and April talked about how ... Difficult this brother is.

eventually Mikey and Leo come join you in the gym and now that you’ve become accustomed to these oversized turtle men, not being weird is getting easier, you even got invited round for dinner the next night to meet their dad 

April leaned in and told you their dad is a giant rat and all you replied is “of course, why wouldn’t he be?”

in the end, They all commend you on taking this meeting like a trooper and not freaking out entirely

even though you feel as though you could have been a lot cooler than you were about it

[ionianstar]

Imagine Luke and his classmates performing Oh Happy Day from Sister Act 2.

And Luke is equally as talented and equally as afraid.

xxxxxx

He and his classmates had been rehearsing for weeks, building up the courage to believe in themselves and to perform. MC is an older angel who had agreed to supervise the rehearsals and direct the performance.

They readied themselves on the morning of the performance. It was to be performed at assembly on Monday morning, in front of the entire student body.

Their hands were all clammy as they clasped eaxh others' arms and laced pinkies and leaned heads on shoulders while standing in an empty classroom waiting to be called up.

MC was sitting on the teacher's desk as they all stood around her, nervous and excited. She made sure to meet each of their faces and give them a bright smile.

"You will be fine. You are all so talented and so dedicated. And I'll be right up there with you. I am so proud of all of you." Some of them started sniffling and MC tutted and opened her arms. The young angels all rushed forward, throwing their arms around her and each other.

"Oh my loves, don't cry too much. You'll sound like little frogs up there." She spoke into the mass of white and gold and teal around her. Some of them chuckled and cleared their throats. They finally relented and broke away.

"Now, final warm up. We need those throats nice and warm so we give our best." She stood and they all elegantly scrambled to form a neat circle. Luke slid next to her and sbe felt his small, sweaty fingers interlace with her own. She squeezed his hand and continued.

"Vowels."

A soft chorus of voices rose into the air and MC closed her eyes, smiling. As they practiced, she felt Luke's grip loosen gradually until his hand fell away entirely and his voice rose clear and strong beside her.

As their voices faded out, a knock sounded at rhe door and MC opened her eyes to see Simeon, beautifully clad in his uniform, leaning against the door frame.

Tiny gasps echoed in the room and she swore she heard Anna in particular say "Oh sweet Father", followed by the sound of a smack. She swallowed her own giggle even as the rest of the students didn't.

"You all sound more and more beautiful everytime I hear you. I don't know how you keep doing it. That hall will be a sight and sound to rival even the seraphim." He praised the young angels as he walked into the room. They shuffled around and made space for him next to her.

Luke's hand grabbed at yours again and you glanced at him, his head bowed for some reason.

"I actually came to tell you they'll be ready in about 5 minutes so we can start filing out." Simeon's voice caused her to take in all their bright faces again.

"Luke, would you do us the honor of saying a prayer before we go?" MC turned to the young boy and he nodded. They all held hands again and bowed their heads.

"Dear Father, thank you for allowing us to perform and giving us these talents to use for Your worship. Guide us, keep us, grant us the courage and confidence to perform well. In Your name, Amen"

A chorus of "amens" and shaky exhales.

"I know you will all do wonderfully." Simeon looked around at all of them and they returned his smile

"Let's go rattle Heaven." MC winked and they visibly relaxed. They formed a line and filed out of the classroom. Luke took up the rear and MC didn't miss the affectionate squeeze Simeon gave him.

MC and Simeon followed behind them as the neat line of white hats and shirts walked up to the stage and took up their positions. She walked to the center of the stage and Simeon sat on her far right at the piano.

She glimpsed some clasped hands and smiled at them all. "Focus on me and Simeon. That's all."

Simeon began playing and she saw a few visibly tense, notably Luke as he began.

The chorus came out softer than normal and huskier than they robably intended. She motioned for Luke to step forward even as she swayed. He continued singing and stepped forward out of formation and began their practice vocalizations.

They followed along and tension melted away as their voices gained strength.

"Relax, Luke." MC whispered and Luke's lips pulled up into a smile and he opened his mouth to sing again.

Oh, he was clear as daylight.

Even the chorus swelled behind him and they stepped and swayed. Here were the beautiful cherubs of the Celestial Realm. Here were her little angels.

Another vocalization adlib and their voices soared in the hall.

She stepped and swayed with them as they clapped and Luke belted behind her. She could see Simeon swaying in his seat and she beamed at them all. As she mouthed the words, the skin on her arms raised and she felt a shudder run through her and she reveled in it. They were all smiling so widely and confidently she almost cried.

These cherubs worked so hard and Luke the hardest of all, spending countless hours perfecting his pitch and rhythm with Simeon and herself. He was so afraid at first but he pushed through. Him and Anna working especially late nights to choreograph movements and formation. It was truly a class effort and MC was so proud of them.

Luke's voice rang out behind her and she was about to look around at him when he released a falsetto. MC whipped around and the hall erupted into cheers around them. She collected herself and turned back to the group who were all staring wide-eyed but still singing. Their final exclamation seemed to shake the very ground they stood on and they were almost drowned out by applause and cheering.

MC turned on the spot, flashed a smile and bowed. She knew the students on stage and Simeon mimicked the action and by the time they all exited the stage, the cheering hadn't stoped.

She was doubly impressed by their neat and orderly trek back to the classroom. Simeon had the good sense to shut the door behind them.

At the click of the lock, they all erupted into laughter and exclamations. The students all crowded around Luke, who seemed to still be in a daze, hugging and smiling at and with him.

MC caught his eye and he walked over to her and stood in front of her for a few moments. She understood the high after performing and put her arms around him.

"I'm very proud of you, Luke. You were beautiful out there." She spoke into his cap and his smaller arms wrapped around her torso.

"You all were. I don't think any cherub class has ever evoked such a response in the student body. I am proud of you all." Simeon added and in an instant, several smaller figures rushed to hug him. Sniffles were heard and MC could make out Simeon's quiet cooing to the young angels. Luke finally released her and she smiled down at him, even as a watery smile graced his face. She brushed his hair away from his forehead and pressed a kiss there.

"I had fun. Being on stage with all my friends was easier than I thought." Luke looked around at his classmates and they sent him smiles and thumbs-up signs. Simeon came over, after soothing many a young angel, and Luke threw his arms around Simeon's waist and Simeon huffed a laugh.

"I am so proud of you, my little one. You were spectacular." Simeon plucked off Luke's hat and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Luke gave another watery laugh.

"Ya know," Anna began, standing next to MC, "you guys are kinda like our parents. Which means you're also kinda married." MC gawked at Anna as the younger angel simply smiled knowingly and looked between her and Simeon.

"So that'd mean you kinda have a crush on your dad." MC smirked down at Anna as a horrified expression crossed her face.

"On second thought, you're my big sister." Anna nodded to herself and left MC's side as Luke joined their group of friends.

Simeon came to rest against the teacher's desk with her and she allowed herself to lean her head on his arm.

"You did well, MC." Simeon spoke very softly and MC smiled tiredly.

"So did you, Simeon. We all did well." She patted his leg and he chuckled.

Luke saw them in his periphery and smiled to himself. If this was the catalyst to get those two to finally confess, he'd happily sing on stage until it happened.

xxxxxx

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 24) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±9400 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 24: John’s presence at the horse show flips Dean’s world upside down, sending him a tailspin that could have serious consequences. Will Y/N and his friends be able to get through to him? Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. 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: How Do You Get ‘Em Back - David Ramirez. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74​​​​, and @winchest09​​​​ for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand. Guys, this is going to be a heavy one. 9.3K of angst. If you are invested in this story, I suggest you’ll have the tissues ready before you start reading. Godspeed.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     “Hello, son.”

     Only two words, but it’s more than Dean has heard his father say in a long while. The simple greeting lingers between them, like smog polluting the air, stealing his breath. A force of habit the cowboy assumed was long forgotten has him square his shoulders. After all, if there’s anything John taught him it's that men can’t be weak.

     What does he call him? Dad? Sir? The cowboy isn’t even sure and so he decides to keep his mouth closed. Instead, he measures the man before him. He is but a ghost of the parent Dean remembers - or at least idolized for so long. His boots are dusty and worn, the leather tearing at the creases. His clothes are dirty, stains on the white t-shirt he’s wearing under a camel jacket. He grew a beard, the tough hairs grey now. A black cowboy hat hides most of his slick hair, but they don’t conceal the dark circles under his father’s eyes, nor the tale of pain and sorrow that are still apparent. Nothing has changed, really. He just got older.

     Dean can feel his knees weaken as his breaths come out shaky, but he is able to stand his ground. He sets his jaw, gritting away the frustration that continues to build, his fists clenched, nails digging into his palm. But it’s more than just aggravation that courses through him; it’s joined with an overwhelming sense of panic and fear. He wants to run, far away from confrontations and the dull blade that is tearing open old wounds. What he would give to go back in time, just an hour or so, to prevent this moment. What he would give to be able to live the life he naively pictured, with his family, with Y/N. 

     Meanwhile, John watches him, eyes glossed over and wearing a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”      Still, Dean can’t speak. He just stares at his father. Even the gentle words falling from John’s chapped lips don’t lift the tension. Where Dean was thankful that the stables were empty just a few minutes ago, he now wishes it was swarming with people, because being cut out from the public eye is not a position the cowboy wants his girlfriend to be in. When John steps closer hesitatingly, Dean moves in front of her, one hand back to make sure she stays behind him. It’s instinct, a reaction that is fed by years of doing the same for Sammy. He did everything possible to protect his brother then, and now he has to do the same for her. Dean has to get her out of here. Now.

     The cowboy turns his head slightly, addressing Y/N without letting his old man out of his sight. “You should get Joplin warmed up. I’ll be right there.”      “Dean? Are you s--”      “Go,” he insists, wincing at the strict tone of his own voice. 

     John has halted and watches the exchange, his gaze following the cowgirl who moves to the box on her right and takes off the halter of a black horse inside the stable. Without a word but with concern and confusion evident in her eyes - which flick to his before she averts them quickly - she takes the Quarter by the reins and guides the mare out of the stable. When she’s out of earshot, Dean’s father returns his focus to his son.      “That your girlfriend?” he wonders.      “No,” the wrangler claims, wanting to keep her out of this at all costs. John doesn’t have to know about his relationships with her or with his friends. It will make them vulnerable to his influence. “She’s just an intern,” he adds.

     Believing the statement to be true, he dips his chin, nodding slightly, and Dean is able to exhale. At least he got Y/N out of harm’s way, now he just needs to somehow prepare himself to take the fire. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s time to face the faults of the past. He  allowed the family to fall apart on that dreadful night when the bond between the Winchesters was shattered to pieces. Dean destroyed it all.

     Carefully, his old man moves closer once more, and involuntarily the young cowboy steps back. He doesn’t want to. He intends to stand tall and hold position, but trepidation has him back up before he can stop himself. Apparently aware of the effect he has on Dean, John ceases his attempt to close the unbreachable gap between father and son. 

     Leaving a safe distance between them, he speaks again. “You’ve grown up to be quite the man, Dean. Your aunt and uncle must have taken good care of you.”      More than you’ve ever done, Dean thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud, too apprehensive for the reaction it might trigger. “They have.”     “Well, I’m glad,” John smiles at the ground. “I’m glad you landed on your feet. Do you know if Sammy did too?”

     Dean’s eyes fill to the brim before he can blink. He doesn’t know. The big brother who was supposed to look out for him, who was supposed to give everything to provide his younger sibling the safety and care that he deserved, doesn’t know. The question is a punch in the gut, a verification of the fact that he has failed Sam like he has failed so many others.      “I don’t,” he admits, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. “I haven’t seen him since.”

     John sighs, sniffles slightly and glances up, as if he’s mad for a prayer that has been left unanswered. The news does a number on the old guy, and suddenly Dean feels sorry for the man standing before him. His father was already lost when their mother died, and it only got worse when Sam disappeared. The agony it triggered has never left him, just like it never left his son. That loss will always remain, a piece of their heart cut away violently, leaving a hole that bleeds to this day. They both had to settle for a life without Mary and the youngest Winchester in it. As much as Dean wants to hate his father, he simply can’t. He wouldn’t want to wish that kind of torture upon anyone, let alone his dad. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes he has made.

     “I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped that maybe…” John pauses, shaking his head slightly. “I hoped you boys at least found your way back to each other.” 

     Dean swallows with difficulty, his bottom lashes barely clinging to the tears that threaten to roll down his face, but he manages to keep it together. He wishes the same, because life without his sibling feels incomplete. God, he misses Sam. And all that guilt, the sorrow, and the uncertainty of his well-being come rushing back to him in a magnitude that he can’t cope with.

     John watches his son again, a grown man now, yet still his boy. “I was wondering if maybe we could sit down someday. Have a drink or something, y’know? Try and put this all behind us?”

     Astonished, Dean stares at him. A part of him wants to mend this broken relationship, but John must be aware that rekindling the father-son bond will never undo all the trauma their family endured. There’s no going back to how things were, there is no returning to the time the Winchesters were happy. Mom died, and her death set them on a course of total ruination. And yet, Dean can’t answer. He can’t tell his father ‘no’.

     “John Winchester!”      Hasty footsteps echo between the stable walls, and when the conflicted cowboy glances past his father, he notices Bobby, moving closer with determined strides. A shuddering sigh of relief escapes Dean, and he’s glad the man opposite of him turns around to face his former brother-in-law so that he doesn’t witness the sign of weakness. With his uncle here, he instantly feels safer, knowing that even if this conversation develops into an argument, he has back-up now. 

     The elder man holds a fury in his eyes that is visible even in the shadows of the worn ball cap he always wears. “You better walk away,” he warns.      “We were just talkin’,” John assures, calmly.      “I don’t care if you are holding a family reunion,” Bobby sneers. “If you don’t leave right now, I will get my gun and blast your sorry ass so full of buckshot that you will never sit in a saddle again without scratching the leather.”

     Dean’s gaze bounces between his father and his uncle, weary of the clash that is about to kick off, as the two older men keep their eyes locked on each other, tension rising by the second. But then, against his expectations, John gives in to Bobby’s request and steps aside. He glances back at his son one last time, giving him a sad smile, before he breaks away and strolls off, shoulders slumped and defeat obvious.

     Collecting himself by taking a breath and blowing it out as slowly as he can, the younger cowboy makes eye contact with his uncle, who approaches him until he’s in arm’s reach. He puts his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, gently encouraging the troubled young man to look at him, hoping the touch will ground his nephew.      “You alright?” Bobby asks, the lines in his forehead deepening as he frowns.      Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He can’t speak and has to break away from his uncle’s observant gaze. Bobby’s grip loosens; he’s aware that Dean isn’t ready to expose his true feelings about this unfortunate run-in.      “I’m gonna make sure he leaves the premises,” he assures.      With those words, the man - who once again has provided him safety - turns away to follow John, committed to matching action with his words if the guy doesn’t take his threat seriously. 

     Finally alone, the unsettled cowboy tries to inhale again, but his diaphragm seems to have risen to chest height. He can feel anxiety like he has never experienced before in his adult life get a grip on him, and whatever he tries, he can’t stop it. Afraid that his legs might give way, he takes a step to the side and holds on to one of the stable bars, but he still can’t breathe. Unable to hold the frontline in the battle he’s fighting with the overwhelming sense of distress, the tears break through his defense, spilling down his cheeks. Suddenly, he feels sick. He needs to get out, he needs fresh air.

     Feeling the bile creeping up from deep inside him as he stumbles outside, he quickly turns the corner behind the tent before he heaves this morning’s partly digested breakfast into the grass. He throws up everything he has been holding, hoping the anguish will leave his body as well, but it doesn’t. When his stomach is empty, he is still left with the same misery.      “Fuck,” he chokes out, steadying himself against the steel corner pillar of the stable.      He wipes at his runny nose and his tears, sniffling. Get a hold of yourself, Dean, he lectures, you need to keep it together now. He straightens his back, looking down at the mess he made, closing his eyes for a second as he pulls in a careful breath. 

     “Dean?”      Recognizing his friend’s voice, the cowboy turns around. Benny stands behind him, worry in his clear blue eyes. Manning up and finding his footing again, Dean walks up to meet him. The Southerner hands him a bottle of water, and even though the receiver is thankful for having something to rinse his mouth with, he wishes it to be something a whole lot stronger.

     Taking a swig, he lets it wash away the sour taste before he spits it onto the ground. After another attempt he realizes that it’s no use and takes a careful sip this time, swallowing it down to put out the fire inside his chest. He glances at Benny, giving him a nod.      “I - I’m good,” he says, not just trying to convince his companion. “I’m good.”

     Knowing him well, his best friend doesn’t contradict him, even though it’s clear as day the statement is far from the truth. Dean’s eyes are bloodshot, his hand trembling when he moves the bottle to his mouth.      “You might wanna get to the warm-up,” Benny reminds him, handing him the headset.      The wrangler grimaces. “Shit, yeah. What time is it?”      “Two-thirty. Her starting time is in twenty-five minutes,” the Southerner says.      “I gotta get goin’,” Dean realizes after cursing again, moving past him to make his way to the arena. He holds up the water bottle as he jogs away. “Thanks.”

     Hoping his friend will understand that he’s thanking him for a lot more than just the drink, he hastens away. Right now, he has someone else who needs his support. Y/N has left the stables well over fifteen minutes ago, so he hopes she’s not nervous because of his late arrival. When he finally reaches the fence, he spots her amongst the other riders, warming up Joplin. He can tell she’s focused, or is she upset with him for not being on time? Finding it hard to read her from a distance, he sums it up to a mixture of both. Without disturbing the other competitors, he bends down to duck under the barrier, approaching her and her horse. But when she ignores him completely and continues to work the Quarter on a small circle, he hesitates. 

     “Y/N?” he calls out, not sure if she saw him from inside her bubble.      “What?” she snaps.      Taken aback by her reaction, he watches how she keeps circling, slowing down to a walk, but still not stopping to take the headset or even grant him a look.      “C’mon, let me help you,” he ushers, holding up the device for her.      But when she looks him in the eye, the coldness they behold frightens him. “Why do you even care?” she wonders. “I’m ‘just an intern’ anyway.”

     Like she just slapped him across the face, Dean stares at the cowgirl, the daggers she’s shooting at him with her powerful gaze stabbing him right in the heart. No no no, he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes. She wasn’t supposed to hear him say that to his father. He labeled her as an intern only to make sure John wouldn’t be able to get to Dean through his girlfriend. Of course he didn’t mean a word of it! He has to make her understand.      “Yankee, I’m sorry. I--”      “Forget it, Dean. I can handle myself,” she snarls. “Leave me alone.”

     With that, she moves away from her boyfriend, riding Joplin to the other side of the warm-up ring, as far from him as possible. Regretful, her trainer saunters back towards the fence, making his way out of the ring. When he straightens himself, he is met by Jo, who has her arms crossed in front of her chest as she narrows her eyes at her cousin. It’s clear as day that she’s about to rip him a new one as well.      “What did you do?” she demands to know, sternly.

     Dean looks at her, opening his mouth to answer, but unable to even utter a word. I fucked up, that’s what I did, he realizes. Like he has fucked up everything else that was ever good in his life. He doesn’t reply, though, and instead shakes his head, admitting his loss.      “Here.” Dean hands her the small device with a microphone attached to it, his fingers still trembling. “Help her if she needs assistance, alright?”      Perplexed, she watches him walk off. She at least expected a counter with a claim that he didn’t do anything wrong.      “You’re not gonna even watch her ride?” she asks before he’s too far gone.      “I’ll watch from the bleachers. I don’t wanna distract her,” he returns, sadly looking into her eyes before he carries on.

     Observing her cousin, an uneasy feeling settles in her stomach. The guilt is oozing from him in great amounts as he disappears in the crowd, his head hanging, the usual upbeat attitude nowhere to be found. What has gotten into him? Something must have happened, something bad. She can’t recall the last time she has seen him this troubled, not since… Jo’s eyes grow a little larger, her brows that were knitted together a moment ago now rising. Suddenly it dawns on her; she hasn’t seen him so thrown into disarray since he arrived at the ranch at fourteen years of age. She might have been only eight at the time, but those memories lingered. The sight of a kid so scared, so depressed, and so broken left an impression. Even as a little girl she knew he had been through hell, and by the looks of her cousin now, it seems like those dark days are catching up with him.

     Jo wants to go after the poor guy, but she knows she can’t abandon her best friend. When the steward calls out Y/N’s name, announcing she’s up next, she focuses on the rider again. Right now she is her main priority, because whatever happened between the intern and the wrangler, Jo knows she’s Dean’s priority too.

     “Ready?” she checks while quickly drying Joplin with a towel before they head towards the gate.      “Yeah, I am,” Y/N assures, pushing Dean from her thoughts.      “Remember that it’s fine to pick your first cow from the side of the herd, okay? Don’t set the bar too high. It’s your first time,” the blonde cowgirl offers.      “I know,” she assures, even though she’s not planning on playing it safe.

     The frustration has morphed into determination, a strong will to prove that she can manage just fine and that Bobby has every reason to dote on her. She much rather feels aggravated than insecure, so she allows the anger to flood the worry, shutting out her usual insecurity. She’s not going to let anyone down, especially not herself. 

     Concentrated, she goes to the gate, eye for the prize. Joplin already has her ears perked towards the cattle, knowing it’s game time. The clock starts to tick, and with confidence, she guides Joplin through the group of heifers, picking one dead in the middle to single out.

     She doesn’t know Dean is watching from the sidelines, and intense sadness filling his soul. She doesn’t know how proud he is when she makes two amazing cuts and she scores 73 points, outclassing him. She doesn’t know that he’s very much aware that his girl doesn’t need him anymore.

     Swift strokes brush the dirt out of Joplin’s dark coat. Dust particles dance in the air, illuminated by the orange rays of the setting sun that fall through the window of the stable. The mare allows the pampering, on hindleg resting on its toe, her head hanging low. Big, brown eyes are half closed, falling shut every once in a while. Sleep almost taking the normally feisty horse, the grooming having a relaxing effect on her. It’s almost as if she realizes she’s about to go on a new adventure, and she’s taking this moment to recharge after her run.

     Jody has matched Joplin with a great family. A sixteen-year-old girl will be riding her. The teenager and her parents came to meet her new horse right after the great performance, absolutely beaming, knowing this wonderful animal was now theirs. In about fifteen minutes, Joplin’s new owners will be here to take her to their farm in Alamo, New Mexico. The family promised to give the Quarter a forever home, and they showed Y/N pictures of the beautiful barn where the little dark horse is going to live. She’s going to a good place, but the farewell remains bittersweet.

     Once the Joplin is thoroughly cleaned, her rider takes her by the halter, raking her fingers through her mane. Y/N has never been good at saying goodbye, but it’s time now.      “Be good, okay?” she whispers, letting her hands gently run down the horse’s neck. “And don’t pin your ears back too much. People are gonna think you’re mean, but I know you’re a softy.”

     Joplin breathes out a sigh through her nose as if answering the person who has been her companion for the past month. It’s peculiar how fast a bond between human and animal can form. There has been a connection between them since the first time Y/N saddled her up for a trail. The thought of buying the beautiful Quarter herself has crossed the cowgirl’s mind ever since she learned Bobby planned to sell her, but no matter how difficult, this is also an aspect of the business that she needs to get used to. When she will finally have her own stables in a year's time, horses will come and go. She can’t keep every one of them, and so she needs to set Joplin free.

     Judging by the hollow sounds under the tent’s roof, the new owners are on their way. She can distinguish Jody’s voice, and Bobby’s too. A girl with long, brown hair and bright eyes peers over the stable door, already glancing at the beautiful horse lovingly.      “I bought her new transport boots,” she announces enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t want her to get hurt on the trailer. I also got a rug for when it gets a little colder during the night. Do you think she will like that?”      The teenager holds up a red, woolen rug, which matches the leg protection perfectly. Y/N chuckles at the sight. Joplin is going to get so spoiled.      “Those look amazing.” She reaches for one of the boots. “Here, let me help.”

     They strap on the protective wear together while Bobby, Jody, and the parents close the deal on the other side of the alleyway. After the money is counted, the ranch owner hands over the horse’s passport together with a certificate of ownership, shaking their hands once more. Y/N waits for her boss to look her way, wondering if he - as owner - should give Joplin away, but the old man gives her a friendly nod, telling her without words that she will have the honor.

     “Well, I guess this is it,” she says, fumbling with the leadrope. “She’s yours now.”      “Thank you,” the young cowgirl returns. “We will take good care of her. Promise.”      Not trusting her voice, the Y/N smiles warmly, but there isn’t a doubt in her mind that the family will. She doesn’t want to get emotional, it wouldn’t be professional after all. And so she does her very best to blink the mist from her eyes when she offers the leadrope, handing over Joplin to her new owner.

     The family who just gained an additional member exits the stables, heading to the trailers to start their journey home. The rider, the trader, and the rancher watch them leave, all with smiles on their faces. Everyone involved in this sale wins. Y/N can’t help it, though, and has to wipe a lonely tear from her cheek. Jody, who notices, wraps an arm around her shoulder, sheltering and comforting.      “Sorry,” the cowgirl excuses, a little embarrassed.      “Don’t be sorry, honey,” she dismisses sweetly. “Caring matters, especially when money comes into play. Someone who cares has far better judgment than someone who’s greedy. Remember that.”      Y/N smiles at the wise words, storing that piece of advice with all the others she has picked up along the way. 

     “Pretty good ride,” Bobby compliments his intern, in his own way trying to cheer her up. “Especially at your first cutting class.”      Jody glances aside at the ranch owner, not impressed with his choice of words, before pulling the cowgirl closer into a side hug. “Pretty good? Are you kidding me? You absolutely slayed it! If you’re not giving that girl a rider’s fee, I will.”      “Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Y/N objects.      “No, you deserve it,” he insists while leafing through the hundred dollar bills in a large envelope.      “Bobby, it’s okay. I am already super grateful for everything I’m learning and the experiences that I’m gaining. You have already given me a room and a stable, not to mention Ellen’s cooking. You really don’t have to pay me.” 

     Y/N shortly places her hand on her boss’s to seize his actions, wanting him to stop counting. The Gold Canyon Ranch might have made good money over the past three days, yet that doesn’t mean a financial disaster is avoided. She doesn’t want a share.      The old man holds her gaze and she can tell he’s wondering if either Dean or Jo have spilled a little too much information. Maybe it is because of that assumption that he settles and lets it go.     “At least lemme buy you a drink, huh?” he offers before he turns to his business partner. “I just have to round a few things up with Jody here.”      “Alright, see you in a bit,” Y/N returns.

     As the two business partners walk off to look for a private place where Bobby can give the woman who has made the sale possible her commissioner’s fee, the cowgirl slips into the tack room. She decides to start packing, since the crew presumingly will leave in a couple of hours. She has to keep busy, but Dean breaks into thoughts straight away. Sighing deeply, the cowgirl tries to wrap her head around her boyfriend’s reasoning. His words, which had her freeze to the ground for a second as she left him with his father, still ring in her ears. She’s just an intern. Why would he say such a thing? Why hadn’t he expressed that she is his girlfriend? Why did he never mention his father to her? And if he isn’t even able to talk to her about his family, what else is he hiding?

     Her train of thought is interrupted by Jo, who hastily rushes around the corner, her restless eyes searching the tack room before she checks the stables.      “Have you seen Dean?” she asks, concerned.      “No,” Y/N bitterly answers.      “Okay, enough.” Jo places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg. “What the hell is going on with you two?”      “You tell me,” her friend responds coldly. “I was under the impression we were doing just fine until Dean wasn’t even able to introduce me. Clearly, I value our relationship more than he does.”

     “What are you talking about? He’s crazy about you,” the blonde cowgirl reminds her.      “Is he?” Y/N spins on her heels, finally looking her in the eye. “Because for someone who claims to care about me, he sure keeps an awful lot of secrets.”      Jo sighs. “Look, I know Dean isn’t the guy who’s very chatty about those kinds of things, but what makes you say that he doesn’t care?”      “Because he couldn’t even tell his family - who he failed to tell me about, by the way - that I’m his girlfriend! He told his father that I am just an int--”      “Whoa whoa, wait. His father?” Her best friend stares at her bug-eyed, needing a moment to process the information. “His father is here?!”      “Yeah, he showed up in the stables earlier to visit him, before I got on Joplin,” she confirms, somewhat confused by her shocked expression.      Jo steps towards the intern, grabbing both her shoulders and looking at her intensely. “Are you absolutely sure?”      Y/N shrugs a little, not understanding the earnesty. “He looked a lot like Dean, and he called him his son, so I’m assuming.”

     Her best friend just gapes at her, her cousin’s demeanor by the warm-up ring suddenly making much more sense. If he had an encounter with his father, his entire world just got turned upside down. Judging by how messed up he was when his only living parent left him to rot when he was still a child, she can only imagine what his return after all that time has set in motion.

     “We need to find Dean, now,” she says, grabbing her friend by the wrist and pulling her out of the tack room. “I’ll explain along the way.”      Unsettled, Y/N fastens her pace to jog next to the ranch owner’s daughter. “Jo, what’s going on?”      “Dean didn’t lie to you when he said that he hadn’t seen his family in a while. In fact, the two haven’t been in contact for fifteen years,” she explains as they exit the stables.

     Stunned by the revelation, the cowgirl next to her tries to make sense of it all. Fifteen years? Why would he have cut all ties with his dad for fifteen years? She can’t possibly imagine doing such a thing. Something horrible must have happened, something beyond comprehension.      “That still doesn’t explain why he described me as anything else but his girlfriend,” Y/N  brings up.      “Listen, you don’t know John. He is a manipulative son of a bitch who has played dirty mind games before. If Dean let on that you were just someone working at the ranch, he was trying to protect you.”      Y/N stops dead in her tracks, her hand which is still entwined with Jo’s causing her friend to spin around. “He w - what?” 

     “You need to talk to him,” her friend insists, dragging her into motion again. “My guess is that he found a place to be alone or he’s liquoring up. Either way, your man is spiraling out of control and he's gonna need his girl in order to get out of that vicious circle.”      “He - he won’t talk to me,” she stammers. “Not after how I was with him before my run. God, I can’t believe I was so self-absorbed. I thought he didn’t want me there because he was embarrassed of me, and you’re telling me he was making sure I was safe?”

     Jo wishes her companion wouldn’t put herself down like that, because the blonde cowgirl honestly gets why she reacted the way she did, being unaware of the family drama. She never thought the day would come, but here she is, defending her cousin’s honor.

     “Like I said; he’s crazy about you, Sis. He has never been like this with somebody else, so if there’s anyone who can through to him it’s you. He might try to--”      “- push me away, I know. That’s kind of his thing. I won’t let him,” Y/N promises.      Jo nods at that, glad she was able to convince her. “Good, now we just have to find him.”

     They arrive at the square where all the shops are situated, most of the stand holders packing their unsold products into cars and onto trailers. The sun has disappeared behind the horizon, the skies painted with red. There are a few people around, music coming from the tent further up where the after-party is in full swing. They meet Benny at the crossing, though, who is looking for his friend as well.      “Have you seen him?” Y/N asks the farrier, who has the same worried frown on his face as the girls.      “I tried the trailers, but no luck,” Benny says. “Stables?”      But she shakes her head. “We were just there.”

     The three glance aside when a group of young guys stumbles out of the tent, alternated colored beams in their wake, coming from the disco lights inside. The concern that has Jo’s intestines in knots worsens, because if Dean has hit the bar, reasoning with him is going to be problematic. 

     Y/N enters the tent, backed up by the other two members of the Gold Canyon Ranch. The band plays a happy, upbeat country song that contradicts the alarming anxiety and dread that is riding her nerves like a racetrack. Frantically, she looks around, trying to identify her boyfriend amongst the crowd. She doesn’t see him in the booths on her right, nor around the dancefloor which she and Dean owned two nights prior. Once she convinces him that she understands why he said those things and that he did nothing wrong, she can wrap her arms around him again, comfort him with a kiss and ask him for another dance. He can continue to be the wonderful, supportive boyfriend, making her laugh and making her smile, lifting her up and making her feel appreciated. They can go back to how things were.

     Trying to convince herself that everything is going to be fine, she moves through the mass of people towards the beer taps, when she stops suddenly, the wind being knocked from her lungs by the sight in front of her. At the end of the bar, she finds Dean. Not nursing a beer, sad and alone like she expected to find him, but in company of the same girl who was all over him on Friday night as well; Jamie. The cowboy, already intoxicated, leaning into her when the blonde whispers something in his ear, touching his arm as she does. A blind man would be able to see the chemistry, their conversation easy and carefree. The beautiful girl seated on the stool next to her boyfriend doesn’t show a sign of insecurity, her cheerful and confident personality matching Dean’s perfectly. She is everything Y/N isn’t.

     Unable to move, she watches the film play out before her, a story of fun and romance that will push her story with Dean to a tragic end. Tears begin to fill her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat. A part of her hopes that he will turn around and see the devastation that his actions are causing, but he doesn’t, occupied by the gorgeous old flame which seems to have ignited something new. He doesn’t even see me, she realizes. He doesn’t see her, because once again it has been made perfectly clear she’s not worth holding on to. That has always been the case whenever it came to love, hasn’t it? So why on earth did she think that with Dean it was going to be any different? And just like that, she’s back to being invisible again. 

     Abruptly, Y/N turns around, desperately needing to get out of the buzzing atmosphere, but she collides with Jo the second she does.      “Woah! Where are you--” Jo steadies her friend when she almost falls over, holding her by her arms. Stunned, she stares into her eyes, noticing how they are glazed over with absolute heartbreak. “What’s going on?”

     But Y/N just shakes her head, moving past her hastily; she can’t stay here a second longer. The upset girl struggles towards the exit and ignores Benny, who watches her departure, perplexed. When he straightens himself again, he glances at Jo, as much confusion on his features as on hers. But when his focus locks on his buddy at the bar, his face falls.      “That son of a bitch,” he mutters, his remark triggering the blonde cowgirl before him to turn around as well.

     Jo’s jaw falls slack, observing as the two order another round of shots. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. She can’t believe she’s witnessing the man who she thought had made a change for the better, now making a turn for the worse. Frustration boils inside of the petite yet feisty woman, who is biting down hard on her bottom lip when she faces Benny again.      “You talk some sense into him before he really crosses the line,” she directs. “I’m gonna go after Y/N and see if I can repair the damage.”

     The broad-shouldered wrangler nods and watches Jo take off before he goes in the other direction. He pushes through the mass of people who are enjoying the last party of the event, all oblivious to the dramatic scene they are all a part of. He senses that the drama might become a whole lot worse if he doesn’t manage to pull Dean’s head off his ass.

     “What do you think you’re doin’, brother?” Benny claps his hand on his friend’s shoulder, interrupting him before he downs the shot waiting for him on the bar.      He scoffs. “What does it look like?”      “Seems to me you’re about to get a lil’ too friendly with a gal that ain’t yours,” the farrier says with a lowered voice, hoping it will enlighten him.      “We’re just having a drink,” Dean counters, annoyed, reaching for the glass in front of him, but Benny pushes it out of reach.      “Do you think that’s what Y/N saw too when she was here just now?”      Now he does get the cowboy’s attention, common sense finally pushing to the forefront. “She was here?” he questions, dumbfounded.      “Yep, and you’ve got somethin’ to fix. Let’s go,” Benny suggests, his large hand flat on his companion’s back calmly pushing him off the chair and onto his feet, both men giving Jamie a short nod before they leave the party.

     The fresh air slaps Dean in the face when he exits the tent, sobering him up enough to realize how bad he screwed up. He knew it was a horrible idea to do the one thing his dad always did when the pain got too much to bear; hit the alcohol and drown his sorrow. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? No matter how hard he fights, no matter how different he aspires to be, he will always be just like his father. The same ego-centric, selfish and spineless dick that breaks everything he touches. 

     When the two men stop in the middle of the square, Benny looks around, trying to find the girls. He doesn’t spot them sitting at any of the outside tables, nor by the restrooms.      “It don’t matter, I already fucked it up anyway,” Dean mutters when his friend glances between the market shops.      The farrier pauses his search and gazes at him superciliously through half-lidded eyes. “No disrespect, Chief, but what the hell is wrong with you?”      “You really want me to get started on that list? Because if so, we’re gonna be here for a while,” the wrangler returns snarky, avoiding his friend’s blue eyes, taking a few steps away with his hands on his hips.      “John showing up here is not y—”      “Don’t!” Dean interrupts with venom in his voice, spinning around and pointing a firm finger at Benny. “Don’t you dare bring up my father.”

     He’s trembling, the anger that ran in John’s blood for years now raging through his veins. Fire sets alight his insides, flames dancing in his pupils that glare at his comrade warningly. The Southerner takes a tentative step towards him, realizing he needs to get through to Dean, but has to handle the subject as carefully as possible.      “You are not him. I know this,” he speaks slow. “I know you love Y/N, too.”

     But Dean scoffs and shakes his head, not just denying that he does, but refusing to allow himself that kind of fulfillment. He was stupid to even think that he ever had a chance with her. It was just a matter of time before it all would come crashing down on him, ruining everything that he never deserved in the first place. He can’t love her, because if he does, she will fall victim to him, just like he did to his dad.

     “Listen, brother. You’re not seein’ straight right now, but you can still make this right,” Benny continues. “You care too much about her to just throw in the towel. Remember when she first came to the ranch? You were smitten the second she walked through those doors. You called dibs on her for a reason.”

     The cowboy’s shoulders rise as he inhales deeply and fall again when he blows out a breath. Of course he remembers. He remembers the first time he laid eyes on her over his poker cards, how she responded to him from across the saloon. He remembers how she gave him a run for his money when he came on too strong. He remembers how he panicked when she didn’t seem interested and the idea of her being with someone else had him strike an agreement with his best mate. He remembers the rides, their first kiss, the moment i--      “You called dibs on me?”

     Stunned by the unexpected voice, both men turn to where it came from. Benny gulps thickly when he notices Y/N stepping from under the awning of one of the food trucks, Jo in her shadow. Even in the dim glow from the overhanging strings of lightbulbs, he can see her eyes shimmer with despair.      “Y/N, it ain’t as bad as it s--”      But the cowgirl cuts him off immediately, shooting Benny a glare. “You can stop with the Southern smooth talk. I need to talk to Dean alone.”

     After exchanging looks over the course of several uncomfortable seconds, both Benny and Jo step aside, sauntering away from the couple. Once their friends have disappeared behind one of the trailers, Y/N returns her focus to her boyfriend again, her judgemental stare boring into his soul.      “I asked you a question,” she repeats, managing to prevent her voice from trembling. “Did you make some kind of pact with your buddies?”

     Dean doesn’t answer, but he sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. He lifts his eyes from the ground for a moment, glancing over before he averts them again. The woman standing a few feet away from him chuckles cynically; she knows enough.

     “So what, women are like cattle to you? This is a funny bet?”      The cowboy frustratingly shakes his head once. “You know it’s not.”      “Do I?!” Y/N returns, her tone sharper and higher than anticipated. “Because if this isn’t just a game, then why did you shove me aside for some blonde broad--”      “For fuck’s sake, we were just having a drink! We had this argument already!” Dean snaps, throwing his arms to the side.

     Taken aback by the hostility, Y/N stares at him. She has seen this anger before, but just a glimpse of it. It was when Ash lost his job and blamed them, in particular Dean, who took the acquisitions hard. That evening it was mostly guilt that triggered the cowboy to lash out to her and the second he realized he had upset her, he apologized. But now an apology doesn’t even seem to cross his mind that is clouded by darkness far greater. At this point, she’s not sure if she would be able to accept it anyway.

     “Well, it didn’t make much of a difference, now did it?” she returns after using the dreadful silence to recover.      “Apparently not,” Dean scoffs, shifting his unfocused gaze aside.      Mulling over the chain of events that have led to this moment, he swallows with difficulty, indignation taking off the heat for a bit, stopping it from boiling over. The calm gives Y/N enough courage to step closer.      “Dean, I know today was a whirlwind. I know - I’m aware that what happened in the stables earlier has sent you into a tailspin,” she sympathizes, careful not to mention his father after witnessing his outburst with Benny when he did, “but this isn’t you.”

     The disheartened guy before her huffs again, sardonic and hopeless. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Because it’s exactly who he is. This is who he was always destined to be. It’s how he was raised, it’s in his DNA. For two months he allowed himself to hope that maybe he could change, that maybe he could be better than the poor excuse of a man his father was. Y/N gave him that pipe dream, and even though it’s unreasonable to be upset with her for seeing the good in him, it’s amongst one of the many frustrations he’s experiencing. 

     “It is. This -” Dean points at himself, his upper lip twitching with disgust. “- this is who I am.”      She shakes her head, not ready to give up. “It’s not. You are kind, loving, your heart is--”      “You don’t know me!” He exclaims, running a hand through his hair and trapping the light-brown locks between his fingers before he gestures wildly. “You think you do, but you don’t have a fucking clue! I haven’t told you anything about my life--”      “Then talk to me!” Y/N yells back as he turns away from her.      “I CAN’T!!” 

     Dean is facing her again, vexation flaring in his emerald green eyes. His heart beats so vigorously that it has his entire body pulsating. He takes her in, the beautiful young woman who he fell for, and he can see that her hope is fading. It pains him to hurt her, but he’s left with no choice. Being angry with him will make things easier, though. It will help her move on. If she is going to feel sorry for him, the pity would only prompt the caring girl to hold on and try to piece the shattered shards back together, and he can’t let that happen, simply because it’s useless. He refuses to take her down with him, to burden her with the same demons that he has to live with. He can’t do that to her, not to the one he loves. She’s way too good for him, so pure, so selfless and gentle. She’s everything he shouldn’t have, everything he isn’t worthy of. It’s better this way, it’s better to end it now. 

     “I can’t. Who you think I am, it’s not me. I’ve been lying to you, pretending. I can’t be the person you need me to be,” he claims, calmer now that he knows what he has to do.

     Y/N’s breathing picks up slightly, the air leaving her with a shudder each time. His words seem so definite already, but he can’t possibly believe that they are not right for each other, can he? All those moments they shared, all the affection he offered; that was real. That was him. Why can’t he see he’s exactly the man she needs?      “And what person is that?” she questions, hoping that whatever argument he fires back, she can turn around.

     Dean is quiet for a few seconds, thinking about a fitting answer. The profound fondness he feels for her begins to resurface and it’s tearing him apart. She needs to understand that the fairytale they have been living is a facade he can’t continue to maintain. Dreams never last forever, this is where they wake up.      “You need a guy who is honest, who you can trust. Look at us; I can’t even bring myself to tell you about my family, my past, or anything for that matter,” he reminds her.      “I knew what I was in for, Dean. I don’t expect you to spill every dark secret you think you have. You don’t have to spell out everything to be with me. We can work it out!” she argues desperately.      But the cowboy shakes his head, feeling the sorrow brim in his eyes. He wants her to be right so bad, but he knows he can’t live a lie.      “You don’t get it, okay? I’m a fucking mess. I did things that are unforgivable. I don’t have my shit together, but you do,” he says, a sad smile barely pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You know exactly where you wanna go in life, what you want to achieve.”      She steps closer, praying that if he lets her, she can eventually bridge the space between them.      “We can do that together,” she pleads with all the hope she has left.      “We can’t,” he returns, having gathered every bit of strength to look at her before he pronounces the words who he knows are the truth. “This isn’t gonna work.” 

     The tears that have gathered become too much even for a dam to withhold roll down her cheeks now. An already unbearable ache gets worse, her heart physically hurting and taking up so much space that Y/N feels like she can’t breathe. He can’t be doing this. He can’t pull the plug, not after all the epic moments they shared. Every warm look, every gentle touch, every loving kiss; every blissful memory. How can he possibly let go of that?      Refusal has her reach out to him, one last attempt to repair what is already broken. “Dean, stop… Why are you hurting me like this?” she cries.

     The cowboy drops his gaze while fighting the tears and the grief for what he’s losing. He wants to reach out too, take her hand in his, but he can’t cave now, he can’t be selfish. He has to do this for her.      “Because if I don’t, if I allow this to go any further, it’s gonna hurt a lot more.”      Dean fixates on anything but Y/N, no longer able to endure the sight of her falling apart in front of him. It’s dreadfully quiet as if the world stopped turning, and in a way, for the two individuals in the middle of the square, it just did.      “So - so what? This is it?” she stammers, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re breaking up with me?”      Biting his lip now, he focuses on what this decision will offer the woman at arm’s reach. An uncomplicated life in which she can pursue her dreams without having to worry about someone dragging her down. She can be free to do whatever she wishes and that’s all he can ask for. But in order to provide her with that opportunity, he has to let her go.      “Yeah. We’re over.”

     Like a bullet fired from a gun, the defining words rip through her chest and pierce her heart. The silence after the shot is deafening, canceling out the sounds of their surroundings. The streaming pathways of desolation gather at the end of her chin and drip down on the dry soil, enough to darken the dust. Her eyes are glued on him, though, but he doesn’t return her gaze. The conclusion of their relationship sinks in with every passing second, leaving her soul in ruins. It’s over. They are over. And there is nothing she can do to change the course of history.

     Unable to be in his presence, she forces her feet to move, turning away from the man she is no longer with. Dean can’t watch her leave, fixed on the dark earth where her tears fell just moments ago. From his peripheral vision, he notices Jo rushing by to go after her friend. Good, he thinks to himself, she’ll have someone to lean on. 

     After standing there for what feels like an hour, he takes a few hesitant steps towards one of the trailers, placing both hands flat on the metal, searching for something to ground him while he closes his eyes and lets his head hang. He can’t find it, though, not in the cold steel, not in his reasoning behind this brutal decision. The resentment builds again, and Dean pulls his right hand back, balls his fist, and almost puts a dent into the barrier before him. The action only confirms what he deep down knew to be true all along. All that rage, the self-hatred; he can’t bottle it up forever, so it’s for the best that Y/N will no longer be there to witness it. 

     Dean bends his elbows, his forearms now pressed against the iron and his forehead resting between his clenching fists, as he struggles to pull in a shaky breath. He feels like he’s imploding, the outer frame of his structure caving in on itself. His mouth falls open, his bottom lip trembling, then he allows the tears to cascade down his face. 

     He can sense Benny by his side, but Dean is too wrapped up in his own destruction to really acknowledge him. The comforting hand on his shoulder is a touch he barely registers, his body is already rebuilding its emotional walls, caging away his ability to feel and casting it in a permanent shadow. That’s where it will remain, encapsulated in darkness, cut out from the light that his girl had to give. Benny stays by his side, though, letting him know that he is there for his friend, as much as Jo is there for hers. 

     “Sis, wait,” the ranch owner’s daughter tries desperately, following the woman who just had her heart broken into the stables.      Her request remains unanswered, Y/N only stopping when she has reached Meadow’s box, her hands shaking while she tries to unlock the door. When she’s unable to, Jo quickly steps in and opens the gate, holding it for her companion. The bay horse has lifted her head, alerted by the commotion in the alley, but clearly recognizes the person stepping inside. She seems confused by her owner’s frail state of mind, though, pricked ears and concerned eyes taking in the situation. 

     The cowgirl folds an arm around Meadow’s neck while she buries her face in the Quarter’s brown coat, then she breaks. She breaks into a million segments, lost in the mixture of wood shavings and straw underneath their feet. The air is too thin to breathe and sobs wreck her entire form. 

     Never in her life has she felt so unwanted, purposeless, and vulnerable as she’s feeling now. Dean let her in and she trusted him to handle her with grace, yet the second she was comfortable with this new way of being, he pushed her out. She thought she knew the man she felt such a strong connection with. Yes, she realized very early on that it was going to be difficult to get through to him. The soldier with thick armor had stacked the barricades high, but that never intimidated her. After all, she had climbed mountains before. 

     She gave Dean her all, but in the end, it turns out it was useless. Y/N isn’t even sure what’s real and what’s not, if the cowboy has been wearing a mask all along, or just now turned into someone that he isn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. He has made himself perfectly clear; she is not the girl he wants to be with.

     The only one stopping her from collapsing is Meadow, who holds still like a statue, aware that if she moves, her owner will fall to the ground and might never be able to get up again. The horse senses exactly how to handle Y/N, the usually so spirited mare now timid and calm, picking up on the despairing energy. 

     Jo, who had silently slipped into the tack box to get a bottle of water and some tissues, comes back into the stable, tearing up at the sight of the two who have such a strong bond. The thousand-pound animal has curved her neck around her human, resting her large head on the cowgirl’s shoulder. As if trying to comfort her, Meadow twitches her lips, gently rubbing them against her owner’s back, her way of showing affection. People can be cruel sometimes, to others, to horses. Jo has witnessed it, and she knows Dean has too, which has ultimately led to his dreadful decision to cut Y/N loose, and by doing so he has hurt her in terrible ways himself. But at least the girl has her horse.

     Meadow, who is oblivious to the reason behind her owner’s sorrow, offers solace nonetheless. Quietly, she waits until the cries die down and the tears begin to dry, and even then she stays close to her person, having a better sense of direction than most humans do. Y/N’s four-legged friend is honest, treats her with kindness, and loves her unconditionally. It’s a special connection no man can ever steal away, yet many can learn from. This incredible being is her soul horse, a term Dean has taught her, the one who she thought was going to be her partner in life until he decided otherwise. He is right, though; it is over between them. She has lost Dean’s heart, but at the end of the day, no matter what happens, she will always have Meadow.

That’s that then. They are over...

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

Read part twenty-five here

[scrapyardwarlocks]

Worst-Case Scenario

AAAAHHHH 911′s season 4 finale is tomorrow!!!

Soooo usually whenever there’s a huge, impending episode for a show I’m into, I try to lower my expectations as far as humanly possible. If my bar for the episode is in the Mariana Trench, then anything positive will make me enjoy the experience, even if it’s not my ideal outcome.

I thought I could share what, in my eyes, would realistically be the worst way this episode could go. I’m considering all of the information we’ve gotten so far from the trailers. If you’re like me, maybe this’ll help? 

(Fair warning: if you want to be hopeful for the ep, want to avoid trailer spoilers, or you don’t like seeing heaps of pessimism on your dash, you may want to avert your eyes)

a lot of important storylines don’t get resolved and we have to wait until season 5 for answers

if you blink when Albert first appears on screen, then you’ll miss all of his screen-time

the sniper’s identity is super dumb and inconsequential like a misguided vigilante or something

Hen’s mother is still suffering due to her illness

Maddie’s postpartum depression only worsens and Chim doesn’t really know how to help her

Bobby and Athena's talk isn’t good enough to resolve their issues, so they decide to take a break

Bobby is at risk of dying in the fire, but Athena has no hand in saving him

And now for Buddie... hooo boy here we go

Buck tries to be more than friendly with Taylor again and she politely rejects his advances again. Despite this, Buck doesn’t respect her decision and still wants to pursue her romantically

the sequence of Buck pulling Eddie from under the truck and trying to save his life is brief. Most of the work is done by the other paramedics/firefighters at the scene

Chris doesn’t seek comfort in Buck after he hears about his dad

Buck is crying just because of Chris’ reaction to the news, and it has nothing to do with his own fear about Eddie maybe dying OR he just found out someone else from the 118 has been shot

Eddie getting shot is glossed over soon after it happens. We don’t get to see Eddie’s recovery, and the next time we see him after the incident, the only indication that he was injured at all is an arm sling

Buck takes an unnecessary risk by climbing that crane, gets hurt, and doesn’t actually do anything important plot-wise

Carla’s comment about “Eddie not following his heart” really means that Eddie wasn’t 100% in his relationship because of his lingering Shannon grief. He gets over it after his near-death experience because he realizes life is short or some sh*t like that

Eddie and Buck’s convo after Eddie is in the clear boils down to: “Hey thanks for helping to save my life, bro!” *punches shoulder platonically* “Let’s move on and never think about this incident or how it made us feel ever again”

all of Eddie’s loved ones, and Eddie himself, think that Ana is a great addition to the Diaz family... they’re clearly gonna be together for awhile #EddiexAna5eva

(Might’ve gotten a little heated at the end there, forgive me)

Please join me in my prayer circle so none of this happens 🙏

[petalshields]

[ ELLIOT KNIGHT, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ]  —  [ SABER WINSLOWE ]  is a child of  [ EPIONE ]  with the power of  [ PAIN SUPPRESSION + PATHOKINESIS ] .  they were born in  [ 1993 ]  and have been in nemean lion since  [ 2008 ] .  with the change, they  [ GRADUATED FROM ]  the  [ MEDICAL ]  role which makes sense since they’re usually  [ COUNSELING + READING + TRYING TO FEEL SOMETHING ] .  if you’d like to meet them try the  [ SUN ]  building .  —  garnet / she/her / kst / 18+ / @nlupdates​

it’s garnet ya’ll already know the vibes. this long as hell but bear with me.

Saber’s pinterest is here!

BIOGRAPHY!

saber did not grow up knowing the people he called his Ma and Pa were not his biological parents. Ma and Pa lived in a red barn hidden acres deep in rural New Haven, Kentucky and they prayed every night for a child that they couldn’t seem to conceive. one night, a woman appeared with her three-year-old son in tow, explaining that his father died in a tragic accident. the winslowes welcomed him inside and the woman disappeared into thin air. it wasn’t until the boy, who told them his name was saber, was fed, bathed, and asleep that they questioned where the woman came from. unbeknownst to them, it was the goddess of recovery epione, who just lost one of her mortal lovers and decided that saber could be the answer to the winslowe couple’s prayers.

starting he was around nine-years-old, saber bounced from foster home to foster home. he was taken from his doting parents who weren’t at all neglectful nor inattentive, but a concerned doctor reported the frequency of his hospital visits and the severity of his injuries. as a rambunctious lad who was always too curious, saber collected injuries the way other kids his age might’ve collected bugs. it did not help that he appeared to have an exceedingly high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t aware that a part of his body was wounded until someone pointed it out or he fell forward because his leg was broken.

while his parents were being investigated, at around the age of twelve, saber was placed in a particularly volatile household. its chaos could be felt the moment that he stepped inside. nonetheless, saber always had the gift of being a calming presence to those around him. even at his young age, he sympathized with others and always helped those in need, but he noticed that emotions could change quickly if he touched them. he could place two fingers on someone’s pulse and the heart of a mourning person would no longer thud under his fingertips, their sorrow drying on their cheeks. saber had the same effect on his aggressive foster family, who he would touch on the shoulder, elbow, or hand to calm them down. they’d always shake him off, but their mood visibly shifted, and saber would watch them walk away from the battle they’d almost started. he couldn’t relate to such extreme displays of emotion — while he wasn’t without empathy, he did not feel deeply for himself.

emotions became a puzzle that he wanted to solve, and saber poured over books about the topic to better understand his foster family. it was his obsession and he began to absorb random facts about how the brain functioned. this led saber into reading more, curiosity becoming less physical and tactile and more intellectual, using a flashlight under his covers at night to consume more knowledge.

when saber was thirteen, going on fourteen in a few days, he was claimed by epione sending a garter snake into his box-sized front lawn. saber, who was outside at the time, bent down to examine the creature, and when he looked up, there was a woman that he’d never seen before standing with his social worker. His social worker introduced him to his mother and explained that he’d be going with them to a new place, giving him time to pack his suitcase with his things. he did as he was told, waving goodbye to his foster family. they grumbled about having one less mouth to feed.

in the car, saber couldn’t stop looking at his mother, who was so familiar yet a stranger, and it was then that his social worker told him about his godly heritage. that because he’d been claimed by his mother, he was in danger, so he had to go somewhere he could be kept safe. that somewhere was nemean lion.

saber was a little awkward at first, but he found his strides, excelling in his training. he stayed in the standard track for the first year before switching to medical. many thought that he could have been a hero because of his bravery and his inability to feel pain, but he chose to follow his passion in trying to crack the brain. he received basic medical training, but by the time he was eighteen, he remained on campus for a little bit longer to study psychology.

at nemean lion, saber became close with another boy, another demigod. saber never had a crush before and he didn’t feel the clichés. the affinity that he felt towards the other boy was chosen rather than felt — he chose to speak with him for hours, he chose to go on dates with him, and he chose to kiss him back. in addition, saber also vowed to never change the other boy’s emotions with his ability — it was nice to have something that flourished organically without manipulation on his part.

homophobia tw: saber and his boyfriend married immediately after graduation and he brought his new husband back to meet Ma and Pa. the aging couple was set in their ways, and though they tried, they did not approve of saber marrying someone so quickly. when saber asked them if they would have approved if he did the same with a woman, he found their answer in their hesitance. his husband stormed out and saber filed behind him. “why didn’t you say anything?” his husband spat at him. saber didn’t say anything in response, understanding the reason for the reproach, that perhaps he should have said something, but he also logically understood that their bigotry wasn’t his problem. he touched his husband’s cheek, absorbing the pain and anger, something he swore he’d never do to his husband. but he did, and for the remainder of their time together, he didn’t forgive himself for it.

saber and his husband had a few honeymoon years before the marriage unraveled, but saber wasn’t aware of the unraveling. he came home one night to find his husband packing his bags, claiming that he no longer felt that spark between them and he hadn’t for a while now. saber simply responded that he didn’t notice, withholding that he felt the distance between them increase but couldn’t do anything about it, didn’t know what to do. he didn’t want to use his power to fabricate contentment, even love, where there was little to none. his husband said “you never notice, because you don’t know how to care.” it was an act of caring, however, that saber let him go find whatever would make him happy. shortly after, the divorce papers were filed, and his last name legally changed back to winslowe.

saber owns his own private practice, and he services both humans and demigods. the whole point of his character is that he’s telling other people how to get their lives together while his own is a hot mess, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. but it be like that!

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

CLIENTS: everybody needs a lil therapy

EX-HUBBY: i’ll probably put a wanted connection in for this, but if you think that your muse could have been married to Saber....i just think we could have that conversation.

SOCRATIC CIRCLE: ezra stokes and sila demir zerhouni are part of this little group, where they get together and discuss intellectual stuff over coffee. if you think your muse would be interested in joining them, let me know!

MENTEES: the mind’s just as important as the body, and i imagine saber has a lot of insight that’s useful for other medical track kids. however it doesn’t have to be restricted to just the med kids, let him be ur dad friend.

CONFIDANT: someone who saber can hit up and be like “so do you feel nothing or is it just me” u feel me??

OLD FRIENDS/LIKE SIBLINGS: saber tries to be a good person and he really values his connections, so he maintains his friendships. he definitely got his shit rocked by his husband suddenly divorcing him so he really wants to figure out how to have relationships that mean something to other people.

ANYTHING: hit my line babes

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

sorry this took a while but for the character ask game: shang xirui from winter begonia, your priest guy from the guest, and lee rang(?) from totnt ^^

Thank you for sending this dear 💖This is gonna be difficult but here we go I guess?

for this Ask Game.

Shang Xirui (Winter Begonia):

Favourite thing about them : his passion for his art and his honesty, the wide depths of his emotions.

Least favourite thing about them : his violent and abusive side. No matter how much sympathy I have for his trauma, it does not excuse some behaviour.

Favourite line : "All of my most valuable things of Shuiyun are in this room. The Founder, my dad, Jiulang's gift, and you." - The way I sobbed at this moment, and the way Cheng Fengtai can't believe that Shang Xirui just called him one of his most valuable things. It's just a very sweet moment and that just shows how much I love the way SXR expresses his feelings.

BrOTP : Chen Renxiang. I love this strange friendship they had going on, of being rivals but also knowing each other so deeply and caring for each other? When they first introduced Chen Renxiang, I did not expect to get invested in their relationship like this. It felt so flawed and yet the affection was real?

OTP: Cheng Fengtai of course, because they are married and in love.

NOTP: hmm. I'm not sure, there must be a ton that wouldn't be my thing. I guess I don't like interpreting his relationship with Xiao Lai as romantic? I absolutely adored the friendship and love that they shared, and I know that she was the only one SXR thought of marrying, but I never saw it as something romantic. They've gone through everything together and she was the one person that SXR trusted unconditionally. They were family.

Random headcanon: Shang Xirui is ace and non-binary, you can fight me on this ✌

unpopular opinion: Idk if it's unpopular, but he's the sexiest Winter Begonia character, hands down.

favourite picture of them: I took it from here x.

Choi Yoon/ Father Matteo (aka. 'my priest guy from The Guest'):

Favourite thing about them : It sounds strange, but maybe his rage? I like seeing him express his emotions, even if it is anger, because he is so closed off from everything, it's nice to see that it bursts out from time to time. I'm glad he has at least that, eventhough that makes him act stupid sometimes.

Least favourite thing about them : The way he expresses worry by trying to shut everyone out? I hated it when he tried to talk down Kang Gilyoung from joining them because it's too dangerous for her. I understand where he's coming from, but he should stop acting like he holds the authority to stop anyone. Also the way he just assumed that Hwa Pyeung could never possibly relate to him, lol what a moron.

Favourite line : Whenever he speaks prayers lol. Okay jk, it might be this: "Lord, I’m trying to save my friend today. I’ll risk my life fighting against my enemy. Please spare my friend." - This just hits me deeply every fucking time I watch it. Also technically it's a prayer too.

BrOTP : Kang Gilyoung. I love how they care about each other and accept that they've gone through similar things. I feel like she became a person that Choi Yoon can comfortably talk to in a way he's never had before? Someone that is his age and knows his pain and simply accepts it, without nagging or too much fuss, eventually at least.

OTP: Yoon Hwa Pyeung. These two disaster men struggle opening up to someone else and they are especially bad when it comes to each other and yet they keep circling each other. So much pent up frustration and raging tension and gay desperation that eventually turns to trust and love. The good shit.

NOTP: Hmm, Kang Gilyoung maybe? I don't mind the OT3 reading of this trio but I prefer it a lot more if Gilyoung is the ace queen of the group stuck with a disaster couple. She is the only one holding all of them afloat lol. And as stated above, I like their friendship as it is without any romantic subtext.

Random headcanon: Maybe you can count my queer reading of him as a headcanon, but I won't leave it at that. I don't know if it's necessarily a headcanon, but I read him as someone who is deeply traumatised by religion (his abusive parents, his possessed priest brother who tried to kill him, the abuse he suffers in his priesthood) and yet he hasn't lost his faith. I know he said that he became an exorcist to find his brother, aka find the demon who did it, but I do believe that he genuinely is deeply religious, which simultaneously gives him comfort and even more pain.

unpopular opinion: I don't know any popular opinions in this fandom? So I can't think of anything

favourite picture of them: I think this one because i love to see him suffer >:) taken from here x.

Lee Rang ( Tale of the Nine-Tailed):

Favourite thing about them : His longing for family and being loved. Also his IDGAF attitude while giving way too many fucks.

Least favourite thing about them : his fixation on his big brother because it will be his downfall. but it also makes his character so I can't say I don't like it. He just deserves better.

Favourite line : ugh I had to scroll through tumblr for a bit so I find smth and there is not really one that stuck but I like: "I won't give my heart to something like that ever again. Never again..." - after finding the little boy that is his reincarnated puppy? Because he tries so badly to be detached from affection and emotion and yet he simply can't stop himself. He is so afraid of love while he craves it like air.

BrOTP : Ugh, I don't like saying it but Lee Yeon. Honestly, maybe I'm Lee Rang-biased but I hate how fixated he is on Lee Yeon while Lee Yeon is just out there doing his shit and being this hero and just. I hated it but it also broke me into a million pieces. I guess I have to call them an BroTP, just because their storyline just made me cry so badly. I don't like it though. Maybe I'm just annoyed by Lee Yeon. Do you see why Lee Rang is my favourite?

OTP: Not really an OTP but the found family he has with Yuri and Shinjoo is just 😭😭 Everything. I don't really know to what extend I ship this little family romantically but gosh, if Lee Rang isn't at least a lil bit in love with the both of them I will eat a shoe.

NOTP: I guess Nam Jiah? I don't really remember what their interactions where ( I forgot most of this show lol) but I remember being scared that they make Lee Rang being interested in his brother's girlfriend? I honestly can't remember what they did in the show but if they did that, I blocked it from my mind lol. I just wanted to hear nothing about it.

Random headcanon: He is secretely obsessed with soft fluffy things and is full of joy when the little boy gives him and excuse to play/buy/ surround himself with such stuff.

unpopular opinion: Uhm once again I don't know any, sorry.

favourite picture of them: He is 600 years old. from here x.

Thanks again for asking!! It took ages to get here, I'm sorry.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x15: Gimme Shelter

Then:

Dean used his words to save the world once

Now:

At a food bank community center, three teens dole out food while stressing out about one attendant who’s breaking their cleanliness rules. Connor heads over to talk to the woman, but is stopped by the center’s pastor. The pastor challenges Connor’s motivation. ”We have rules, but we also have spirit too, right?” The pastor tells Connor to lead with compassion, so Connor brings the woman food instead of kicking her out of the building. 

Later, Connor walks home. Much like all other cold open walks, this one also involves a solitary alley. He hears someone calling his name. Trying to find the source of the voice, he trips and finds a talking teddy bear, and a metal hook around his neck.

Dean and Sam discuss research. Sam’s found a non-case, while Dean’s hit the jackpot in Atlantic City. Specifically, an unexplained blackout has him thinking that Amara’s enjoying her new gambling addiction on the East Coast. 

Cas pops up and thinks he should go with the brothers, but they tell him to stay put and babysit Jack. I say TFW is just better together, but I’m not writing this episode. Hrmph. The brothers are packed and ready to go, but Jack stops them in the war room to ask about the case Sam found.

Sam tells him it’s nothing. Dean encourages Cas and Jack to investigate --to keep Jack busy. Cas seems skeptical, but Dean insists.

Agents Swift and Lovato meet with the local law enforcement to learn more about the case. Sweet Jesus is it cute that Cas continues to use pop-star names. It’s cute that Jack takes after his father with the upside down badge. It’s cute that Jack recognizes the teddy bear and says he has one (Did Cas buy it for him? He has a history of buying stuffed animals for his quasi-children.) 

The sheriff tells them about the victim, and how the word ‘Liar’ was carved into him. 

Jack posits that this all seems demonic. 

Cut to Cas digging into the ground at a crossroads. Time to get some information. Cas buries a picture of himself that Dean took when he was wearing a cowboy hat (Don’t worry, Dean still has his copy, and keeps it safe…. for reasons.) and Jack sets up a social media account. He’s WAY under 13 years old, so he needs a parent’s permission. Cas grants it easily. (Also, ALSO!! ALSO, there are NOT too many cats on the internet. This writing is so OOC, smh.) 

A demon appears. 

He’s channeling his inner Crowley, and I suddenly miss the bugger for a moment. Zach, the demon, is very bored and desperately wants something to do. He’s not really British and tells the duo that no one's making demon deals right now. Rowena’s of the philosophy that “people will end up where they belong.” Cas realizes their mistake and moves to leave.  “Sam was right, it’s not a monster,” Jack laments. “He was half right. Sometimes humans can be the worst kind of monsters,” Cas adds. 

At the community center, a woman locks up, and grabs a whole lotta cash from the donation box before she bails. Once outside, she hears a voice call her name. She looks around but sees nothing. She turns back to her car to find a masked individual. A weird editing choice cuts back to her...and commercial. 

Cas checks in with the brothers. Dean tells Cas to be wary of those “Hallelujah types” and I’m like, wha? Cas is an ANGEL OF THE LORD. He’s been around the block, Dean. Lol for looking out for your BFF, tho. Also, second awkward moment of the episode when Dean just hangs up on Cas? I’m…

Sam voices his reservations about the whole finding Amara --lying to Amara --killing Amara plan. Say it louder for the brother in the seat next to you, Sam! 

(Boris: I’m just going to insert this in the middle of this recap and never mention it again. Can we trust Billie? Is her plan actually something that is GOOD for our TFW 2.0? What is her agenda and does it align with what we want? What if what SHE wants is as equally bad as what Chuck wants? What if we as an audience are getting played right now??) (Natasha: What if the strings she’s pulling are emotional and she’s playing a dangerous game of chicken with Dean’s rage and Chuck’s entitlement?)

Jack joins the community center. He watches Dr. Sexy the pastor in a prayer circle, and talks to a disillusioned young woman who asks him to fill out a form before walking away. 

Cas walks in separately and wanders over to Dr. Sexy the pastor praying with a parishioner, and tells him about the cash stealing Valerie. She never made it home. 

Cut to Valerie tied and gagged. Her hands are in an elaborate guillotine. She wakes. Her screams are muffled. A TV turns on and flashes the word ‘Thief’. And one of her fingers gets chopped off. A timer starts on the TV. AND WE ALL RECOIL. 

Jack finishes the paperwork and tries to talk to the girls working the food line. The one girl storms off, upset. Jack follows her and tells her that he didn’t mean to upset her. 

She tells him that Connor and her dated. Well, they watched a lot of old movies together.  (AHEM! AHEM! AHEM! “I’m your Huckleberry.” AHEM. Please stop the clowning, it hurts so much.) 

Jack confesses to the girl that he lost his mother. The girl tells Jack that her mom died three years ago, and now it’s just her and her emotionally unavailable father, the pastor. “I have more dads than most, and I’m always just feeling like I’m letting all of them down.” JACK!!!! The girl tells Jack to trust God, not people. 

And we laugh, and laugh, and, guh, laugh. 

Cas, meanwhile, meets with Dr. Sexy the pastor. 

Cas interrogates Dr. Sexy Pastor about whether anyone else has gone missing recently. Well, there was one guy who used to work for the “faith-based community” but they parted ways. Cas and the pastor enjoy a little god talk. Cas, the weary angel, opines that God just doesn’t care. The pastor has a different take on faith - it’s about the people of his church doing what they can to take care of each other. We learn that this church recently changed from a fundamentalist branch to something more welcoming. Connor was able to come out as gay due to the changes, so some good happened. (Hindsight thoughts: this makes his death and the “Liar” all the more awful.) “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying,” the pastor concludes...and if that ain’t the truth about Cas!

Sam and Dean are on the too-slow train to Atlantic City when Amara drops in during a gas stop and invites them out for pierogi. 

At Patchwork, the pastor asks Jack to share his journey of faith during a prayer circle. Jack falters, and Cas steps in. “I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders. Without question. And I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. Then, of course, when it all came crashing down I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed. Something amazing. I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. I rediscovered who I am.” BRB crying!

Later in the cafeteria, Jack asks Sexy Pastor, M.D. how he brought together so many people with different ideas of religion. “It’s not about what they believe. It’s what they do,” he reiterates. (I imagine, for a moment, an ending where Jack calls out to the whole world and all living creatures and Heaven and Hell unite to win the final confrontation and make a better world together.)

The tranquil moment is interrupted by the TV turning on to security feed footage of the victim. The timer runs out and she loses another finger and screams and screams. Jack rushes over to the TV and pulls out a USB stick from the back.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters dine with Amara.

They bring up Chuck’s destruction of the other universes and tell her they have a plan to stop him. They’ve got a nephilim on their side AND he’s super powerful. All they need is for Amara to help them trap Chuck and...WHAMMO. Amara gently refuses to betray her brother. She lays some new mythology on them. She and Chuck are twins - creation and destruction - and their splitting apart first brought life into the world. 

Cas and Jack barge into the church’s ex-AV tech’s room. And by that, I mean, Jack gets hurled through another door? Um. Okay. The part of me that grew up with 3 Stooges is HERE FOR IT, tbh. 

They discover the guy is dead, chained up in bed with cuffs, with the word “lust” painted above him.

Getting ready to leave town, Sam’s ready to accept Amara’s choice. Dean “Fuck Acceptance” Winchester heads back inside and corners Amara. He asks why she brought back Mary. 

Amara tells him that she wanted him to see that the apple pie dream life he’s always striving for isn’t real - that Mary was only human - and BETTER because of that. Amara thought that would help him to accept his life. Amara also thought that having Mary back would release Dean from his anger. 

He leans forward and lets her know that he’s furious. Everyone in this universe is trapped, he tells her - including her. And she’s doing nothing. Amara falters in the face of this, and then asks him if she can trust him. “I would never hurt you,” he LIES TO HER FACE. She tells him she’ll think about it.

That evening Sylvia, the pastor’s daughter, listens to her friend gush over the social media attention she’s getting after posting about the torture video. In a flash of rage, Sylvia stabs her friend and races away. Dr. Sexy Pastor finds the current (still alive) victim just as Sylvia catches up to him. She accuses him of laughing at her mother after her mother died from trying to heal by prayer rather than medical science. She accuses him of changing the church that her mother grew up in. Jack jumps into the fray and gets stabbed for his trouble. When Cas arrives, Sylvia is quickly subdued by his Vulcan forehead tap of slumber.

Cas yanks away the restraints from the victim (SOOOO strong) and then heals her fingers back on while the pastor looks on in wonder. 

For So Strong Science:

Later, they gather outside while Sylvia gets taken away in cuffs. The pastor still cares about his daughter and vows to get her help. The driver of the car is Zach the crossroads demon? Oookay. 

Cas and Jack drive home. In the truck of feelings, Cas asks Jack why he couldn’t share during the prayer circle. Jack confesses that he’s been lying. The spell Billie is doing with him is turning him into a bomb to be used against Chuck and Amara. It’ll work - they’ll cease to exist. But Jack will be obliterated too. “This is the only way they’ll ever forgive me,” he tells Cas. 

Cas is horrified. He can’t watch Jack die again! Cas refuses to watch Jack die again, but Jack seems to have fully embraced this as his necessary fate.

Back at the bunker, Dean heads for the whiskey bottle late at night when he spots Cas shuffling towards the exit. Jack’s settled in his room, Cas reports. Cas then tells Dean he’s going to look for “another way.” 

Oh AND, “In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know…” 

FADE. TO. BLACK.  

The Se7en Deadly Quotes:

You guys go Highway to Heaven that bitch

You look greener than Baby Yoda

“Did anyone find any tiny bags with chicken bones inside?” “Did anyone smell sulfur?” “Did anyone feel cold?”

There were too many cats

Where can I find the Kool-Aid?

I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person

It was a gift, Dean. Not a trial

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[goldandbluesmiles]

Calls to Beyond

Summary: Bruce Wayne's kids, biological, legal and emotional make a call to beyond the veil on Halloween night.

Note: Inspired by the seance scene from Addams Family.

Ao3

Part of my batfam flufftober2020

It was the evening of Halloween, the candy had been distributed, the festivities were done and the rest of the late Bruce Wayne's coven was either gone or sleeping.

Jason brewed the tea, Duke grabbed the cedar, Dick took the crystal globe and the porcelain dish while Cassandra led the way through the tunnels under the house.

Once they got to Bruce's favourite spot, Stephanie laid down the blanket and they all made a circle around the crystal globe. First to last, clockwise. Space was left between Dick and Damian, enough for a fully grown man to sit comfortably.

When everyone was seated, Tim snapped his fingers and the candles already present lit up around the small alcove.

"So?" said Jason, "Are we ready?"

There were murmurs of assent from everyone and Dick picked up the cedar. After lighting the smudges stick he put it at the center of their circle. After, he directed everyone to hold hands.

Once everyone was connected, eyes closed with Damian and Dick having one hand free each, Dick started to say their prayers, calling out to their ancestors for guidance and protection. Once that part was one, he called to one specific person, calling them to join their circle.

The candles in the room flickered for a moment and by the time they all opened their eyes, there was a figure holding Dick and Damina's hands. He was a little faded, almost transparent but his blue eyes were clear and the smile just as they remembered it though he looked a little younger than he had been when he had taken his last breath.

The man smiled and he took his hands away, taking a look around.

"Tea and Seance on Halloween," he said, "How is it that I always end up with the most cliché moments with you guys?"

Jason snorted "Hey, Old man,"

"Hiya Bruce

"Dad,"

"Hello, Baba,"

"Nice seeing you B-man,"

"Hey, B,"

"Good to see you, Bruce,"

"Hi, Bruce,"

The apparition of Bruce smiled and gestures to the teapot and cups, "Don't wait on my account,"

Jason smiled and passed around eight cups of tea.

"So," said Bruce, "What's been going on with all of you? Barbara? You had your birthday last month right, how was it? Sixty-five is a big number,"

Slowly, his children started to tell him of their life's greatest moments since the last time they had talked, the good and the important. Barbara's birthday bash, Duke's first grandchild, Damian's first grey hair, Jason's reform school's second branch and of course, Stephanie's new free clinic. They also talked about Cassandra's accomplishments as Head Witch of the Wayne Coven and Dick's school for magical performing. Tim talked about the advancement and integration of magic and technology Wayne Enterprises and how he and Damian had been working on it diligently.

"That's great, guys," said Bruce, "Sounds like you guys have been having a great time, but tell me the rest of it,"

"What are you talking about, B?" asked Dick, like they didn't have this conversation every time they called Bruce to them.

"Come on now," said Bruce, "I didn't come heat to just listen to the pretty, tell me the ugly,"

Ever so slowly, Damian discussed the numerous deaths an attack on League of Assassins had led to, Barbara talked about her chronic pain with Jason chiming in too, Cassandra talked of the burden of the cowl and Stephanie spoke about crumbling under the responsibility. Dick told them about worrying for his kids and Duke agreed, citing how scared he was since his daughter hadn't really bounced back after her difficult pregnancy.

By the time they were done, most of his kids had tears in their eyes and were quietly hugging each other.

"Thanks for that," said Bruce softly, "But I've been watching you, you know. The nightmares come and go, the hardships might seem like they'll crush you but I know you guys can get through them. I saw how you guys supported each other after I was gone. I know that Dick still calls movie night and Jason still cooks dinner for everyone at least twice a month. Stephanie and Jay, you guys have helped so many people doing what you do,"

"Cassandra, baby girl, I am so proud of what you've done with my former mantel. The League of Assassins has always been wild but Damian, you ave come so far with it, changed the world in ways your mother and grandfather only ever dreamed of and you did it because you are dedicated, you care for those who work for you and while I can't say anything for the grief, you are strong. You guys are all so strong. Tim and Barbara, you guys have made advancements we only dremed of years ago, you guys are going os far and pushing through whatever life throws at you. Even from beyond, I will always admire you guys' strength, all of yours,"

"You really do watch over us all the time, don't you?" said Tim, voice as soft as the slow smile that spread across his face.

"Always," murmured Bruce, "Always,"

His kids smiled, gratitude shining in their eyes

"Thank you, Bruce," said Dick

"You're Welcome, Chum," said Bruce, "Though I think it's time for me to go,"

"Bye, Bruce,"

"See ya, B,"

"Thanks for coming,"

"Thank you, Baba,"

"Bye-bye,"

"Happy travels, Pops,"

"Bye, B,"

"Until next time, Bruce,"

The candles flickered again and when they steadied, their father was once again gone.

[artificialqueens]

Do You Know That Your Love is the Sweetest Sin? (Denali Foxx/Joey Jay) - Joley

Summary: Denali certainly didn’t go to the synagogue on Sabbath with the intent of getting laid, but maybe she was due for an unusual blessing.

ao3 link

“Denali, don’t be rude.”

Denali startled awake when her dad lightly shook her by the shoulder and she realized everyone was standing up. She scrambled to her feet, smoothing out her dress in the process and mouthing along to the prayers. She didn’t speak or read Hebrew, let alone have the prayers memorized.

Her father sighed. “Why don’t you go into the powder room and play on your phone? Come back in an hour.”

She graciously nodded and slipped out as inconspicuously as possible. The powder room separated the women’s bathroom from the hallway and had a couch and coffee table as well as a marble counter and wall-width mirror. So, she sat down on the couch and took off her shoes, deciding to get comfortable.

It hadn’t been ten minutes before another girl about her age wandered into the powder room. “Oh thank god, I thought I was the only person under fifty here.”

Denali looked up and giggled softly, looking the girl over. She had bleach-blonde hair that faded into lavender, her face framed by glasses and her figure still apparent through her modest clothing. “Me too, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’m Denali.”

“Right back atcha, sweetie. I’m Joey,” she hummed and joined her on the couch. “You home for spring break? I go nearby, ASU”

“Yup! I go to the University of Chicago,” she replied with a smile and a shrug. “But between you and me, I think I’m gonna move out there for good after graduation?”

Joey nodded as she listened. “Isn’t that super hard to get into, though?”

“I mean like, it has a six percent acceptance rate but whatever,” she giggled, tossing her hair off her shoulder.

“And so humble,” she teased. “Listen, I don’t wanna be presumptuous or whatever, but we’ve got an hour or so to kill, so why don’t we…”

“In here? Where a seventy-year-old woman named Esther could walk in and have a heart attack?”

Joey laughed and shook her head. “Of course not, follow me,” she hummed, getting up and offering Denali her hand, leading her down the hallway to an empty classroom. “They mostly just use this for after-school care now, so unless that weirds you out…”

“Nah, I’ve had sex in much weirder places,” Denali replied with a shrug before she set her bag on one of the children’s chairs and hopped up onto the wooden teacher’s desk, pulling Joey between her legs, kissing her deeply. “But that’s a story for another time.”

Joey haphazardly let her bag fall to the floor as she kissed back. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure there’s another time, then,” she hummed once they came up for air. She leaned back in, nipping at her bottom lip. Her hands wandered up Denali’s thighs, pushing her dress as far up as it’d go before moving underneath and tugging her panties down to her knees.

Denali smirked, running her fingers through Joey’s hair. “I love a girl that cuts right to the chase,” she purred, cupping her face and capturing her lips in another kiss.

“We are on a bit of a time crunch, after all,” she reminded her as she nudged her thighs apart, then used two fingers to rub small, firm circles against her clit. “And you might not wanna be too loud, just in case.”

Of course, being told not to be loud made it immensely more difficult for Denali to keep her mouth shut. She bit down on her lip, whimpering softly as she arched into Joey’s touch.

“Be good,” Joey’s warning was quiet and gentle, but stern. She waited for a beat to make sure Denali was staying put before easing one finger into her pussy, then another, thrusting slowly at first, but quickly building up a steady rhythm when she was certain that she could take it. “There we go, good girl,” she praised.

Denali let her body relax, yielding to Joey’s movements, pulling her into another fierce kiss just to keep herself quiet. But even with all the control she could muster, when she started to feel her orgasm building up inside her, the control crumbled in an instant and her hips were bucking up eagerly, needing just enough touch to push over the edge.

And lucky for her, Joey picked up on it and gave her what she needed, her other hand rubbing her clit in time with her thrusts, fucking Denali through her orgasm, not relenting until she was certain she was spent. “You good, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded as she caught her breath and collected herself. After quickly checking her phone, she pushed herself off of the desk, pulled up her underwear, and dropped onto her knees, undoing the fly of Joey’s slacks and tugging them and her panties down.

Joey tried not to let her surprise show, shifting so her back was against the desk for balance, gently collecting Denali’s hair into a ponytail while the other girl situated her face between her thighs and swirled her tongue around her clit. “Fuck…”

“Now who needs to be quiet?” Denali teased, though she didn’t give her a chance to reply before she continued, sucking on her clit as she slipped a finger into her, her pace similar to Joey’s, but not quite as fervent.

Joey’s eyes shut and her jaw clenched, her grip on Denali’s hair tightening as she focused on making as little noise as possible. But just like before, when she got close to coming, her composure eroded and she was barely stifling whimpers and moans by the time she came. “Oh my god…” she exhaled.

Denali stood back up and pecked her lips. “See? We had a religious moment after all,” she joked and took a step back while Joey got dressed.

The two of them quickly made their way back to the powder room, using their remaining time fixing their hair and makeup, doing their best to make it look like they hadn’t just fucked in a synagogue, something that would undoubtedly horrify everyone still participating in the Sabbath service. But for them, that made it that much hotter.

After the service, Denali and Joey reconnected, chatting and exchanging numbers, making plans to see each other again before Denali had to return to Chicago, plans to hang out over the summer. Sure, if anything did develop between them, they’d have to leave out the sinful details of their first encounter, but it would be a story they would always remember fondly.

[wallyaxiom]

𝚆𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴: 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝚂

hey besties it’s me coming to do the waltmeme thing. I couldn’t just pick one character to call my favorite. it also felt unfair to do that as well when there’s so many amazing characters here. so grab a snack, put on your favorite tangled song in my honor and buckle up as i go through the list of my fave characters here at walt each person plays. present gen only. sorry to my next gen faves. maybe one day i’ll write a list for you. or not. i’ll keep you on your toes. 

𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕒 𝕛𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕣

cassandra is a character i love so much. tangled is a movie that means everything to me. kiara is the person who understands my tangled feels. the way you play cassandra...like how you said i have a grasp on reagan, you have such a perfect grasp on who cassandra is as a character. her voice is so clear. you understand who the character is and have transformed her into something more than what was given in the bio i wrote and also in the show that’s used for inspo. she’s a spectacular character and i love her so much. it’s an honor to be one half of elssandra but also cassunzel. she’s such an amazing character. you should be so proud of what you’ve brought to life, kiara.

𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕔𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟

listen i told you every day how much i love monty. i literally scream it to you in your living room sometimes. i’ve seen every iteration of monty but i think this one is my favorite. i didn’t even know lightning’s real name was montgomery that was all you. so much of yourself is in monty. it reminds me of myself with wally and i think that’s the biggest reason why i love monty is because he’s bits and pieces of you and i love you very much. as much as i love cocky era lightning i love dad lightning even more. i wish i had a dad like him i’m not gonna lie but we’re not gonna unpack that on the man lmfao. i’m glad i’m more enveloped in his story now because he’s such a good character dude. like such a good written and played character. he’s second in my heart to sulley but is inching closer to number one by the day. 

𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕚

fran !!! my bestie !!! my fave !!! i would die for them !!! like bee, i love talking to you about fran and all the tomfoolery they get into. you’ve played them for so long and each time you transform them into something better than the last. they age like a fine wine. in the past almost two years i’ve been able to be part of their story more & i’m so happy for that opportunity. you’ve put so much love, care and devotion into fran. you’ve added so much to their story. like they’re so fleshed out, how does your beautiful brain come up with all this backstory ??? lemme know i need some of those brain cells. they’re amazing. you’re amazing. i want fran to buy me and island and make me pasta but i’ll just them do that for caspian the favorite child. 

𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨

hands down i had to put orion my future father in law. i’ve had the honor of watching you develop orion into something incredible over these past six years. ( holy cow !!! six ??? insane. ily ). he was a big bad, misunderstood boy and you’ve humanized orion. you’ve brought life into him and created such a beautifully crafted character. he has a heart now. perhaps a tiny one but it’s there. the backstory you’ve created for him and the future he has - all stunning and wonderful. i love this man. he deserves so much after the shit he’s been through. i’ve had the privilege of being in his orbit for a bit when i played logan. I still get to watch him and enjoy the light chaos he brings. i’m ready for the new era of casino owner orion and what trouble he’ll bring now. 

𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕪 𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕤

the boy !!! the legend !!! i love shaggy so much. first of all, the future you planned for him. how dare you ?? do you like to see me cry ?? is that it ??? i’m glad he hit his happy arc now because WOW. pain. shaggy is just a nice guy, man. he’s so nice to everyone he meets. i want to be friends with shaggy and scoob. i love mystery inc. i can’t imagine anyone else playing shaggy but you. to me, you are him. he’s the heart of the group. it’s not mystery inc without him. therefore, you’re the heart also. it’s not the same without you. 

𝕤𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕖

i could easily write an essay about how i love all your characters and how you play them all so well but i had to give this spot to sadie. the teagues are my og loves. every time i see sadie the part of my brain where logan resides lights up. she’s such a good character. she’s a little devil and it’s exactly what we need. we need someone to stir up the pot and throw eggs at kids. sadie is a product of her environment. she’s so tough and had to be so young. no one her age should have to grow up so fast the way she did. i would like to wrap sadie in a blanket give her some coco with bat marshmallows and tell her to take a break. hug her. maybe give her some therapy to. i love her. you’ve brought her to life in such an amazing way. i hope her brothers join her soon so we can have that sibling goodness. 

𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕒 𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕒

i was tempted to put ian here because ian lightfoot is joel and we already know how much i love al and wendy but i decided to show the og love so i put nala. from the get go you knew who nala was going to be and where you wanted to go with her. you always bring so much to your characters. you develop them in ways that amazes me each time. go bestie go you’re so talented. i love how devoted she. how fierce she is but also the vulnerability you bring to her. she was thrown into a world at a young age fighting a war she wasn’t meant to and THAT’S a lot on someone. and we see that. i love the way you play her and i’m so happy you decided to take her up. sorry you have to deal with simba tho. pour one out. 

𝕘𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕩𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙

everyone and their grandmother knows the oliver and co cast means everything to me. i’m so glad that you decided to join them ! you’re a wonderful addition. i love miss george. she’s fabulous in every sense of the word. sharpay evans is shaking in her lil boots. i just love divas. i love them. i am one. she’s perfect. and we know that’s not easy for her. i know your beautiful mind works wonders so i know there’s a lot of growing that georgette will be going through in the future and i’m excited for it. prayer circle for a jenny and oliver. 

𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕩

when you auditioned for thackery you already had an idea of where you wanted to take him and how you wanted to add to his character while staying true to the bio. that is the kind of stuff i like to see. this man has seen some shit and also has been through some shit. i do hope one day his soul can be at ease. he needs a long cat nap. you care a lot for thackery and it’s lovely to see. he may be a hamilton hoe but we have to respect the drip & love him for it anyways. 

𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣

timmy boy deserves a hug. a hug and a nice space movie to take the edge off. you always put so much of your heart and yourself into your characters. you care so much for them and that’s evident in buzz. he’s goofy, he’s cool and he’s just so wonderful. i’m excited to see where buzz will go from here and how he’ll develop over time. i’m hoping some happiness. maybe some resolution with woodrow just to spice things up. that metal arm is still cool too. 

𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕟𝕖 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕜𝕖

hey bestie !!! wow !!! daphne ??? gives me so much pain. I am so glad to be going on this angst journey of mystery inc and fred/daph with you. your love for her and the gang makes my heart so happy. i will happily spend hours talking about them and sending tiktoks to each other that remind us of them. you went beyond the assignment. you were just born to play daphne. you write her so well and understand her past the bio, past the inspirations of the live actions and mystery inc. you get her. you see her. she’s in good hands. i’m ready for all the pain she’s about to cause me. 

𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖

i love penelope. i really do. i am penelope’s number one stan. it was discussed before but it’s so easy to play miss piggy as unlikeable since she is such a brash character but you bring so much light and love to penny. it’s hard not to be in love with her and want her to succeed in everything she does. she’s the miss piggy we all grew up with but she’s also special because you’ve added your own personal touches to her. she’s an amazing character. i would punch anyone who’s wronged penelope. i’m excited for the layers to start peeling back and we see more of penny - especially her badass ways. i just love the way you play her and i love penelope hainline okay. i lovoe divas as stated above what can i say. 

𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕒 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕥

ANNIE !!!! WOW AURORA ??? genuinely she is the love of my life. I love her so, so much. she’s so sweet and wonderful and deserve to be tucked in ??? read a bed time story ??? and not be cursed ??? why’d i do that. she deserves the world and so do you. in the short amount of time you’ve had her you’ve added so much depth to her story. which is not always easy the first few months you have a character but you’ve put in a lot of love into aurora already. you understood the assignment and & went beyond.  i’m so excited to see where she goes on her journey and what will happen when he hopefully get a maleficent one day. also is it an aurora shoutout without me saying philip loves her ??? bc he does.