#Day 5: Cowboys

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Five: Living the Ranch Life, Just the Two of Us (again, not really, but shush)

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Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: probably not accurate to actually living on a ranch, I'm sorry..., Original Background Characters

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Janny! Janny! Look!” Remus yelled as he ran over to Janus who just left the chicken coop with a basket full of eggs.

“What is it, dear?”

“I look like a genuine cowboy! John lent me his vest!”

“That’s great, honey! Your boots really make the outfit.”

“They do, don’t they!” He lifted his legs to inspect the brown, knee-high boots with fringe at the side that were very cliché but one of Remus’ favorite possessions. “Anyway, John’s gonna teach me to lasso, you wanna come?”

“I promised Jane I’d help in the kitchen. But you have fun.”

“Thanks, I will!” With that Remus ran off in the direction of the cow stables. Janus chuckled as he looked after him before making his way to the main house. He went to the kitchen and placed the basket on the counter.

“Thank you, Janus. You’re a big help,” Jane smiled, as she wiped her hands on her apron and moved over to inspect his haul.

“It’s not why we’re here,” Janus quipped. “We came for a five-star hotel experience and not because Remus always wanted to see what living on a ranch was like.”

Out of the window, the two of them could see Jane’s husband John showing Remus how to tie a big length of rope into a proper noose for lassoing. Jane chuckled at the sight.

“He seems like an excitable fellow. It’s too bad you two are only staying a week. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having you for longer.”

“You’re the first person to ever say that, I think,” Janus joked, though there was some truth to that. Usually, both he and Remus had a hard time fitting in with their surroundings. The last four days they spent on the ranch, helping out where they can and learning a lot of new skills had been physically intense but mentally relaxing in a way Janus wasn’t used to from his usual routine.

“Oh, I doubt that!” Jane huffed. “You are both so nice, how could anyone not want you around?”

“Let’s just say, if we’d been born into this kind of environment, a lot of things might have been different.”

“Well, that’s obvious. Everyone would be different if you changed just one aspect of their past. I always thought that dwelling on the what-ifs was a waste of time. Live your life how you see fit and don’t look back too much. You’ll miss what’s in front of you! Now take these potatoes here. They need peeling and cutting.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Janus quietly started on his work while Jane bustled around him, humming lightly to the radio that was playing on low volume in the corner. In between the peeling and cutting, he looked outside. Remus seemed to have the time of his life, waving the length of rope over his head and running around without abandon.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy in a long time,” Janus commented, more to himself than to Jane, though she did stop her own vegetable cutting.

“That so? He seemed to me like that from the start.”

“Yeah, this trip’s been good for him.”

“I mean it, Janus, if you wanna stay longer, you can! We have no other bookings for a week or two.”

Janus looked over at her and she was smiling at him with a warm expression he’s never seen on his own mother’s face.

“I appreciate the offer, Jane, but sadly we do have somewhere to be.”

“Is that so? A shame. Where you off to, if I may ask?”

“A wedding. Remus’ brother will be quite mad with us if we miss it.”

“Oh, I’d imagine! I’d be cross with you as well!” Jane laughed. “Well, then let’s make the most of our time together and cook to our hearts content, huh?” She gently nudged Janus’ side with her elbow and he smiled. Looking out the window, he saw Remus sitting on the ground, somehow tangled up in his own rope with John trying to free him. Both seemed to be laughing though, so Janus wasn’t worried.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Another month. There was no need to worry for another month. They just had to keep an eye on their destination. That’s all.

[spitinsideme]

COWBOY RAGAPOM !!! hard to focus on the horseriding lesson when you are .. very close .. to a besutoful woman

[rithmeres]

☆DEEP☆SPACE☆PLANET☆FUTURE☆GUN☆ACTION!!☆

[g0nefischin]

OK real quick y'all what are we thinking about Dune with a missing tooth?

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 5: stealing my breath (give it back) @whumperless-whump-event

wheezing / light-headed

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Cassidy

whumpee: Gene

genuinely decided while writing this about gene having asthma. it flares up in situations like this or when he's sick. Good Whump Content......

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Sometimes, Gene wondered how people lived before having horses.

This sucked.

He silently cursed Sheriff Caufield for being the lazy bastard he was.

Gene was responsible for tracking down and arresting some members of Montana’s gang that had robbed a train car about 2 days ago. Rumor had it that the gang splintered off in order to hide, and were going to regroup in just a week. That meant it was now or never to try and find some of the more notorious offenders and lock them up for good.

The trouble was that the particular lead Gene had been sent to follow was up a complicated and winding mountain trail.

Now, Calliope was a very well trained and easy-going horse. That did not mean that she was scare-proof. If something startled her up there on the trail, and she bucked Gene off, the chance of him falling right down the side of the mountain was too high for comfort. 

So, he was forced to foot it up the steep trail.

And it was miserable.

Gene considered himself a fit man. He sort of had to be, with his line of work and all. Still, he was not this fit and he felt seconds away from toppling over on this damn hike.

One foot in front of the other. Come on, Delaney.

He used a stray root as a handle and hoisted himself up over a small ledge for what felt like the millionth time. He started to wonder if he was even going the right way.

He stole a quick glance at the sun and saw that it had hardly moved from the last time he checked.

He groaned.

Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few moments. The smoke trail he’d been following had been steadily growing closer. If he rested now, he’d probably feel right as rain once he barged into the makeshift camp, and he’d probably perform a whole lot better too.

Without giving it too much more thought, he plunked down against a large rock to give himself some semblance of coverage, tilting his head back and trying to catch his breath.

Apparently, it was easier said than done.

Unfortunately, the unceremonious way he lowered himself to the ground kicked up dust all around him, and it was quickly becoming harder and harder to breathe around the particles.

Also, for some reason, his panting wasn’t seeming to slow down. On the contrary, his breathing only seemed to become more erratic.

He suddenly paled when a thought crossed his mind.

When he was a little boy, he remembered being rushed to the doctor after he caught a cold once. He had been struggling to breathe, and his mother didn’t know what else to do.

The doctor had told them that it had been something called an asthma attack. He said that Gene would likely outgrow it, but to be careful, because under the right circumstances, he could always relapse.

This sure as hell seemed like the "right circumstances". 

Gene scrambled to sit up, thumping at his chest with a fist in an attempt to get some air.  Strangled coughs left his mouth, returning as grating wheezes. He would have cursed if he could. 

He tried to cough again, he tried to do anything that would open his airways somehow, but it was no use. It felt like he was breathing through a straw-- like his body was simply going through the motions of inhaling without taking in any air.

He silently wondered if this was how he was going to die. There was no one around for miles except the very group of people that wanted him dead. The odds didn’t seem to be in his favor.

Still, he struggled valiantly for oxygen as black dots danced around his vision. He suddenly felt the strange sensation of his entire body tingling. He wheezed harder.

••••

“I’m gonna go check if there's anything useful down the mountain. I ain't gonna be far. Holler if you hear anything,” Cassidy called out, tucking his revolver into his hip holster and beginning down the rough trail.

The gang’s current situation was… less than ideal. The train job had gone south, and Montana made the quick decision to have everyone split up.

Cassidy ended up with mostly the women and children. He supposed Montana wanted someone he trusted with the less skilled gunslingers.

That was Montana; always thinking two steps ahead. If he trusted Cassidy enough to take care of all these people, then by God he was gonna do it.

And that started with investigating the strange sound coming from down the trail.

Cassidy hadn’t said anything earlier. He didn’t want to scare the little ones, but he was quite certain there was a dying bobcat or coyote or something just a few minutes down, and there was no way in hell he was gonna let it near his camp.

He carefully skidded down a ledge and hopped onto a little patch of dirt. The sound was getting louder now, and he reached a hand down to his hip.

He whipped out his gun as he rounded the corner, aiming it towards the sound and--

In front of him was, in fact, not a dying animal, but the last person Cassidy had expected (or wanted) to see.

And something was very wrong.

Gene was leaned back against a rock, hands clutching frantically at his chest. His eyes were wide and panicked, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. The worst part, though, were the sickly wheezes and gasps that left him. His lips were tinged pale blue as he fought for every breath he took.

“Shit, Delaney,” Cassidy hissed, crashing to his knees beside the deputy. Deft hands quickly unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as Cassidy yanked him up to a sitting position.

Cassidy knew what this was. He was no stranger to these kinds of attacks. One of the younger boys in the gang had severe asthma as well. Cassidy was in charge of periodically stealing asthma cigarettes from the doctor when they went into town and--

Right. The box must be at camp.

“Alright, stay right here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Gene’s eyes flashed with fear, a plea of “don’t leave me.” Another high-pitched wheeze escaped his lips, almost sounding like a word.

“S’lver,” Gene managed, trying to grab at his wrist.

“I know, I know. I’m gonna help. I ain’t gonna leave you. Just gimme a second, would ya?” He huffed, before sprinting away.

Ms. Holly, one of the mothers at camp, stepped forward when she saw Cassidy running to her tent like a maniac.

“Now just what exactly did you see out there-- what are you doing going through my boy’s stuff?!”

“Can’t talk,” was all Cassidy could manage before emerging with the box of cigarettes.

Her further questions were cut off by Cassidy bolting out and back down the mountain.

“Now what in the hell was that about?” She murmured.

Cassidy practically flew down the mountain this time, not caring about watching his step. He found Gene easily, but noted with horror that his wheezes were quieter now-- they were weaker. 

“You’re gonna owe me big time, cowboy,” Cassidy remarked, sparking up his lighter and lighting one of the medicated cigarettes.

Gene was flagging now, eyes glassy and unfocused. He hardly even reacted to Cassidy kneeling beside him and propping him up once again.

Cassidy carefully pressed the cigarette to Gene’s lips, stabilizing him with a gentle hand on his chest.

“C’mon, y’damn idiot, you gotta puff,” Cassidy urged, patting Gene’s chest lightly.

Gene coughed slightly, and attempted to do as he was told. He took a small, sputtering drag of the cigarette, coughing at the bitter taste of the smoke.

“Good, that’s real good. I know it tastes as foul as sin, but it’ll help you. Just keep goin’” Cassidy soothed, his voice surprisingly gentle.

After a few more choked drags from the cigarettes, the color began to return to Gene’s face. He was still wheezing, but he felt like he was actually taking some air in instead of just spasming. 

Cassidy hadn’t noticed that his hand was rubbing up and down the deputy’s spine the entire time.

When Gene's airways finally opened up enough to take a full breath, he collapsed listlessly against Cassidy, panting for sweet oxygen. He looked utterly spent.

“S’lver,” He coughed, reaching up to catch his wrist. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it." His eyes flitted up in the direction of the camp. "I assume this means you’ll turn a blind eye to this?”

Gene nodded, letting his eyes fall shut. He didn’t give a damn what the sheriff would say, he was just grateful to be alive.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 5: Rope Burns

Content warning: none

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the earth unforgivingly, heating each grain of sand to an unforgiving degree. It was sweltering, without a hint of civilization for miles. There was nothing but a dirt road in front of Whumper, the sound of hooves stopping through the dust beneath them, and the unrelenting sun above. And the sound of ragged breaths behind them. 

Whumper huffed, licking at the sweat collecting on their lip. They pulled their hat low and, one hand firmly on the horse’s reins, turned to look at their newest catch. 

Whumpee was walking behind the horse, brace brisk despite the exhaustion written on their features. They had no other choice; their hands were bound before them, the rope’s other end leashing them to the saddle. They’d be coming along regardless of if they cooperated or not. The dirt clinging to their skin, the bloody nose left to dry unwhipped on their face, showed exactly what standing still would earn them. 

They’d been walking for hours now, and the strain was clearly wearing on them. Whumpee’s once defiant glare had turned glassy, lethargic. They looked like a starved, overworked dog, mouth open in a half pant, dragged along by an unrelenting master. Even from their place on the horse, Whumper could see where Whumpee’s wrists had been rubbed raw, and bloody from where the rope had irritated the skin. 

If the sheriff ever asked, Whumper would swear up and down they only dragged prisoners along for purely practical reasons. To avoid putting either themselves or their horse in danger, to keep prisoners too exhausted to be a threat. But in the privacy of their mind, Whumper wouldn’t deny that they mainly did it for the entertainment. The life of a bounty hunter wasn’t all shootouts and excitement after all. 

Whumper smirked. 

“Ya hangin’ on back there?”

Whumpee flinched as they were addressed, expression souring as their defiant glare returned. They opened their mouth to speak, but only a dry, hacking cough left their lips. Whumpee stumbled, barely righting themselves in time.

“G-go to hell,” they finally stuttered out, voice weak. 

“I’ve had plenty of folks tell me that, but none of ‘em ever managed to send me,” Whumper chuckled. “Now don’t you worry none. I’m sure the sheriff’s got a nice, cozy cell with your name on it. You’ll have plenty of time to rest there.”

Whumpee opened their mouth to retort, a scowl on their face. At that very moment, Whumper urged their horse forward. The horse hastened its pace, jerking Whumpee forward. Without their hands to protect them, they fell face first into the hard dirt, pulling a startled gasp from their cracked lips. The horse kept moving, pulling a squeal of pain as Whumpee as they were dragged across the hard, burning road. Whumpee struggled to regain their footing, scrambling to right themselves against the force pulling them unrelentingly forward. 

“Watch your step now,” Whumper called, turning back to the road with a grin. 

[velvethopewrites]

Day 5 of @starcrosseddeancas Dreamydrabbles - today’s prompt was “Cowboy Boots” and I tried something a bit different (it’s all dialogue!). I also went over by about 11 words. 😭 I know, I know, there are no drabble-police here, but I really was trying to stay within the word count! Ah, c’est la vie. Many thanks to the brilliant @fellshish for encouraging me 😘 as I was about to give up posting.

“Cas, you should get some new shoes.”

“What’s wrong with the pair I have?”

“They’re very…tax accountant.”

“Dean, Jimmy was not a-”

“I know, Cas. But, just like, think about it? You’re almost completely human now, you need comfortable shoes.”

“I think I might like a pair of jogging shoes, like Sam.”

“What? No way! Boots, dude. Boots, all the way. In fact…”

“Dean?”

“Ah-hah! I do have an old pair. Try these babies on for size. We can always get you a new pair later.”

“Dean, these are cowboy boots.”

“Yeah? And? What’s your point?”

“I am not a cowboy.”

“You’re not a runner either but you wanted ‘jogging’ shoes. I think you’re afraid of looking too ho—. Um, too fashionable. Yeah. Hey, don’t tilt and squint at me. Trust me.”

“They feel cumbersome.”

“Um. Ooookay. Maybe you’re right, maybe you shouldn’t wear cowboy boots.”

“Dean? Are you alright? You seem flushed.”

“We’ll get you jogging shoes instead, buddy.”

[lost-in-fandoms]

so many good things i could be writing about and instead i'm sitting here looking up recipes for cakes i won't bake

[firelise]

Every day I love Tyrant more…a film of a song that starts off with a Greek chorus begging a hangman for justice over a presumably killed partner, then the beat drops and BAM in rides the hangman who is (plot twist!) a 5’9” thick n fine lady who kills men with her pussy after sundown. Absolutely incredible. No notes.

[jimmyspades]

"I’m not about to go to Texas and not ride the mechanical bull." "You'll get hurt." "Nonsense. I grew up riding the ponies at the pumpkin patch." BOSTON LEGAL 1.17 "Death Be Not Proud"

[ceedeelamb]

Happy 25th birthday, king 👑

[goblininawig]

Dean is in a ridiculously good mood as he pulls Baby out of the Stampede Motel parking lot. He sings along at the top of his lungs to the twangy music on the radio. He becomes even more animated at the sight of a ‘clearance sale’ sign in a western wear shop.

“Cas, we gotta make a quick stop.”

Castiel stands patiently as Dean browses Western-style suits, chuckling to himself. He chooses a simple black one, accessorizing with a large bolo tie and a tawny cowboy hat (the only one that fits just right). He deliberates for a while in front of a display of boots, finally calling Cas over for his opinion.

“Which one?” he asks, pointing.

Cas sighs heavily, certain this is another test he’ll fail. “Those,” he answers, pointing to the brown snakeskin pair.

Dean cackles, “Perfect,” grabs the boots, and runs off to the changing room.

Written for Dreamy Drabble, Day 5: Cowboy Boots

Read more on A03

[inafieldofdaisies]

Happy Birthday, Cooper ❤️❤️❤️ Hope this cheers you up even a little, @strafethesesinners

[dontbadgerme2233]

there is a hole in my soul in the shape of a cowboy hat and cowboy boots

[mariatesstruther]

okay hear me out modern au where Tommy and Maria first meet in a club in their 20s and they bump into each other while dancing and just start dancing together and they just hit it off but in the end they both forget to give each other their numbers so both of them go back to the same club the next week to hopefully meet each other again (also Tess and Maria definitely go clubbing together because I love them as best friends)

cowboy!!!! yes yes YES i LOVE this. and u could extend this meet-cute into like a whole thing where tommy and maria keep trying to meet at the club and exchange information, but something gets in the way everytime!!!! kid emergency!!! bar fight!!! cocaine bear on the loose!!! zombie apocalypse—who knows????

im thinking the first time, tess drags maria to a bar she likes because she’s been trying to get the attention of this hot dilfy guy at the bar, but he’s always tailing along with his friend. by tess’s design, maria and tommy meet and and hit it off and dance (to maria maria by santana) the night away. they fall in love and decide they want to go home together, so maria goes to the bathroom—but joel randomly comes up and is like “tommy, hey sorry selena’s mom called, sarah had a nightmare and she wants us both to pick her up, we gotta go” and in true miller dad-uncle panic they BOLT. by the time maria comes back, tess is like “idk dude, mine got a call so they had to go. seemed like an emergency. bummer” and they assume thats that

on the flip side: everythings okay with sarah, but after tommy and joel tuck her in tommy’s suddenly just like “fuck—fuck!!!!!” and joels like “what? what???” and he’s like “i didn’t get her number :(:(:(:( fuck” and so joel’s like “it’s okay, i see her friend there all the time” and so tommy’s like “omg :D do you have her friends number?” “well… no” “joel… what the fuck man.” so they make a plan to go back next week with the hopes of at least seeing tess and getting maria’s number from there—tommy also wants to get tess’s number for joel, but he doesn’t need to know that

little do THEY know, tess and maria are already plotting for next weekend. they show up to that bar looking fine as FUCK—they quite literally turn heads walking through the door. of course the miller brothers are there, sitting in a booth all the way in the back and waiting, making eyes. tess and maria are not shy, so they start making their way over. unfortunately, some drunk asshole decides to try to get handsy with tess on her way there—which results in her punching him in the face, which results in him trying to punch her in the face. she dodges, of course, but it starts a full-on bar brawl that the miller boys jump into without hesitation (joel manages to tackle and land a few good ones on og drunk asshole too so. slay.). none of them get arrested or anything, but they definitely don’t get eachother numbers on account of joel and tommy having to duck the cops

so i guess they gotta keep trying ;)

[simmatics]

SWEET ★ HONEY ★ BUCKIIN

gave the Adventures of Corine [working title] girlies a little photoshoot because well....this ain't texas 🇺🇸🤠