#I personally am proud of the choice I made on every transition gif in the middle

[cametotheshowinsd]

TAYLOR SWIFT: THE ERAS TOUR (2023)

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part fifteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 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 fifteen: The sun rises and it’s time to bring the herd home, but not before Dean reconnects with an old friend. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean & Rocko scene: ‘Road To Perdition’ - The City Of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. Final scene: ‘Ride’ - Hans Zimmer. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: It’s about damn time, ain’t it? Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Slow hoofbeats, little rocks and earth crunching underneath the thousand pound animal. Surprisingly light on its feet, never disturbing the quiet, as it scours the land for the last grass of the season. Calm breaths, taking in over a gallon of oxygen with each inhalation, followed by a soft purring sound when the air is pushed out through the nose. The cold of the night lingers and the air condensates. The first glint of the sun catches the moist clouds coming from its nostrils, turning the fierce creature into a dragon. Kind eyes, calm when it’s safe, but scanning the environment nevertheless, always on the lookout for predators. Pointy ears, flitting back and forth independently, picking up even the smallest whisper, like two little space antennas scanning the sky. 

     Dean watches the herd from a distance, with Y/N still sound asleep in his arms. He can tell she’s exhausted, because she didn’t stir once in the past three hours. The cowboy made sure she was fully covered with the unzipped sleeping bag, holding her close to keep her warm. She seems so comfortable, so trusting; it humbles him. Apparently she’s completely at ease being so close, her self-consciousness burned away by his never ending adoration. Of course he noticed the hesitation when they all went for a swim yesterday evening. She wanted to disappear, covering herself with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her expression shameful. And then there was the insecurity just hours ago, her mind clearly spiraling when he couldn’t give her the confirmation she so desperately seeks. Dean wonders what happened for her to lack confidence. If she has some douchebag ex-boyfriend maybe, who didn’t treat her right. 

     Staying awake wasn’t any trouble overnight, because he had plenty to think about. He’s not the guy to analyse his every thought, he'd rather stuff it all down and ignore them all together. But spending several hours under the Yucca tree, in an embrace with the one person that has his mind reeling, left him no option. So many questions, so much doubt. He wishes he had more answers, he wishes he could have a glance into the future in order to tell if he’s on the right path. If he can make it work with her, if he can step up to become the man she’s looking for. If she will stay with him, even after the internship, because the thought of her leaving brings back an anxiety that he used to experience when his family threatened to fall apart, which is exactly what happened, eventually. He came to one conclusion, though; he’s not going to let her go. 

     His gaze remains absently fixed on the horses, who have moved a few hundred yards closer. The oldest stallion of the herd had spotted the wranglers about an hour ago, but after careful observation decided that they weren’t a threat. It’s a beautiful sight, beams peeking over the mountain range, framing the horses’ silhouettes with gold. Small bugs twirl in the air like fireflies, surrounding the large animals. Dean squints and tips his head forward when the rising sun becomes brighter. The warmth is welcome; he hasn’t moved an inch over the past hours, not wanting to wake Y/N, causing the cold to settle in his bones. 

     A new dawn means they’ve got work to do and Dean is left no choice but to wake the heavy sleeper. The arrival of morning does the job for him, however; even with her eyes closed, the light seeps through. It triggers her to turn into him and hide her face in the crook between his shoulder and his chest. Y/N grunts, disagreeing with the time, and Dean sniggers. He’s not much of a morning person either, but his intern takes the cake.      “Mornin’, Yankee.”       She opens one eye and looks up, meeting an amused yet adoring smile.       “Morning…” Groggy, she rubs her face with the back of her hand. “Five more minutes?”      “You’ll miss the view,” Dean says, nodding at the horizon.

     His eyes reflect the scenery he’s beholding, the colors vibrant as the sun hits them just right, adding amber to the jade in his irises. It peaks her interest, and Y/N turns her head to face the new day. Only leaving a crack for the light to pass her long lashes, she takes in the mesmerizing scenery. On the edges of her vision, a darker shade of blue transitions into a lighter one, the tones changing from cold to warm as they enclose the sun. Cirrus clouds catch the first rays, curling across the sky like wisps of silk hair. From cobalt to pale turquoise, from apricot to saffron. The painter of this picture used every color on the spectrum. And smack in the middle, the sun rises. So bright, she seems to be aware that planets orbit around her. The Superstition Mountains stand proud and tall in the south, the peaks catching the early light, making the volcanic formations seem blood orange, as if lava is erupting from the earth once again. 

     The herd is only a couple of hundred yards away now, grazing calmly. They don’t seem to  be aware of the humans sitting on the top of the hill, almost as if Y/N is in a cinema, watching a gigantic movie screen. It would explain the idyllic Wild West decor, because such magic can only be created with CGI in a Hollywood studio. But they are here. Y/N can smell the air, sweet and earthy. She can hear the wind rustling small bushes and blowing gently through the canyons. She can feel Dean, the warmth radiating from his large form that has enveloped her.       “It’s breathtaking,” she says softly, leaning into him.      He places a soft kiss on her hair, and she smiles, content.       “Thanks for letting me sleep.”      He shrugs it off. “You needed it. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”      Y/N sits up and rolls her neck to loosen her muscles.       “It’s going to be intense, isn’t it?” she guesses, getting to her feet.      “I’d call it adventurous and exciting,” Dean chuckles, stretching his back now that he can move freely again. “Just like the old spaghetti westerns, y’know? Well… without the gun slinging and bounty hunts. It’ll be awesome, trust me.”

     Y/N sniggers, strolling around the Yucca tree to meet her horse. She finds it cute how the tough cowboy, who’s closing in on thirty, is beaming like a little kid. After ruffling Joplin’s mane, she takes a small case from one of the saddlebags, which holds her toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. She has found a new level of appreciation for these simple products of hygiene, given that she has been stripped from luxury and has to do with the absolute necessary. Especially since she’s not just kissing Dean in her dreams these days.

     Looking forward to the day on his doorstep, Dean pulls his radio phone from the front saddlebag, turning it on and twisting the knob to find the channel.      “Benny? Come in?”      He lets go of the PTT button, the device beeping once when he does, then it’s quiet for a moment. Mirroring Y/N’s actions, he one handedly fishes out his toothbrush as well, but when his friend doesn’t respond, he pushes the talk button again.      “You better get your lazy ass out of bed, Lafitte. Gotta bring the horses in.”      Dean clips the radio to his belt. He has brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth and cleaned his face by the time the farrier replies.      “Good mornin’ to you too, Chief.”      Dean grins at the slightly cynical tone of the Southerner. He pushes the button again, moving the speaker closer to his mouth.       “We’re with the herd, on Black Top Mesa, close to Dutchman’s Trailhead. Ya’ll ready to move?”      “Sure am, just cooking up some breakfast to go. Do you want some or did you already eat out?”

     Y/N has never timed taking a sip of water worse, because it comes out through both her mouth and nose. Dean stares at her mortified before he snaps the walkie talkie to his mouth.      “She can hear ya, you jackass!” he returns, his voice higher than he anticipated.      “Oh, I bet she can.”      The head wrangler shuts his eyes and cringes, turning away from Y/N to hide his red face. His free hand goes for his belt loop first, then rubs the back of his neck, before wiping the sweat on the denim of his jeans. Shit, this is embarrassing.       “I - I - We… You know what? I don’t owe you an explanation,” he hisses into the radio phone.      “I’m just saying, brother, if you haven’t yet, it’s gonna take us at least forty five minutes to get to ya, so--”      “- Over and out, Benny!”

     Quickly, he turns the device off, breathes out, and scoffs. That son of a bitch. Dean isn’t sure how he’s going to make Benny pay just yet, but he will taste his wrath. He carefully glances over his shoulder to check on Y/N, who he finds with her hand clasped over her mouth, trying her very best to contain her giggles.      “You think that’s funny, huh?” he mutters, flustered.      She laughs warm and hearty, wiping tears from her eyes as she approaches the cowboy.      “You don’t need enemies with friends like him, that’s a given,” she chuckles.

     He glances at her, his mouth pulling into a smile. She can spot a hint of relief, now that he knows she’s taking it well, but blood still warms his cheeks, making his freckles invisible. It amazes her every single time how all that confidence washes away once he loses direction. Benny was just teasing him, Dean must be aware of that. Besides, it’s not like the green eyed wrangler to take things easy, as he said so himself, so it’s not strange his Southern friend figured he covered at least a couple of bases overnight. She can feel a blush add color to her face as well, when the thought crosses her mind. Honestly, she too silently hoped he would have gone ‘down that road’. 

     “Well, unfortunately he assumed wrong,” she addresses boldly, taking the collar of his stockman coat gently between her thumb and index finger, reeling him in. “But he was right about them taking at least forty five minutes to get here.”      Stunned eyes flick over her features, wondering if he’s imagining things or if she really just gained the confidence he’s lacking at this very moment. Once again she blows him off his feet with her newfound assertiveness, like she does every so often. Shit, she’s sexy when she takes the lead like that.       “He sure was,” he returns, his hands now moving to her waist.      “I know we agreed to take it easy,” she tilts her head slightly, folding her arms around his neck now. “So what should we do with all that time?”

     Dean smirks at her from under his hat, shaking his head amused without breaking eye contact. What a tease. He couldn’t resist her to save his own life. Her radiance is brighter than the rising sun behind her. The pull he’s experiencing, the level of attraction, it’s so strong; he knows he’s going to have a tough time sticking to his boundaries. He has to, though, he has to do right by her. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun along the way.      “I got a few ideas,” he implies.      Before Y/N knows it, the strong wrangler lifts her up, pulling a squeal from within her, followed by a fit of giggles. He adjusts his grip when she folds her legs around his middle, smothering her sly grin with a sweet kiss. The low chuckle that escapes his throat sounds both gentle and gruff, adding to the wholesome sensation that fills her chest.       By the Yucca tree, he lowers himself to the ground, still holding the cowgirl in his arms until she has found her balance and straddles his lap, a knee buried in the gravelly sand on either side of him. The intimate connection strengthens as they get lost in the moment, the laughs dying down, eyes falling shut. 

     Dean lets his fingers wander over the fabric of her clothes, tracing the lines of her neck, her spine, the curves of her hips. Feeling no pressure that this needs to lead somewhere right now calms him, because even though it’s proven to be difficult to keep their hands off each other, he knows she will give him the space he needs and, despite this little tease, she respects him more than he respects himself.       He makes a little mental note when she whimpers, as he continues to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her throat and her collarbone. Dean might not go down on the beautiful cowgirl today, but he will remember the little touches that make her sigh and squirm. 

     Their agreement to take it slow, combined with Benny’s remark, sparked something new. Since their first kiss, she has been willing, eager for more, but now that what she wants is just out of reach, she finds it difficult to control herself. He can tell in the way she touches him, the audible breaths that reach his hearing when their mouths aren’t sealed together, the longing in her eyes when she opens them for a brief second. Dean never thought he would say it, but taking their time might have an advantage he hadn’t considered before. Teasing him, tempting her… it’s an interesting way to pass the time. Making each other wait might feel like a torturous game right now, but when the moment does arrive for them to take things to the next level, it’s going to be something else. And just like that, the bachelor who didn’t waste a second to get around with so many women, doesn’t mind waiting for the one.

     The two lay together for at least half an hour, making out like teenagers. Sweet touches, cute giggles, all smiles. If they could freeze time, they would. But when Dean glances north and notices the dust clouds coming from La Barge Canyon, they have to interrupt the intimacy; Benny and the others are on their way.

     Five minutes later, Dean shrugs off his long coat, now that the sun has cast out the crisp of the night. He folds it up tightly and stuffs it into one of his saddlebags. Y/N has already mounted Joplin, at home in the Tucker trail saddle. The mare didn’t entirely awaken from her slumber apparently, because for once in her life, she stands still and doesn’t bounce around impatiently like a bronc in the holding box at the rodeo. Her rider has her wrists crossed on the horn, the reins casually between her fingers, as she stares at the herd ahead.       “That’s the leader, isn’t it?” she says.

     Dean turns his head, looking at the dark bay horse, who stands between them and his congeners. The animal stares back, ears perked forward, one of them flicking back to the herd every now and them. The stallion observes him carefully, he doesn’t seem entirely sure how to deal with the presence of humans. He’s alert, ready to bolt and take his herd to safety, yet at the same time curious. Understandable, because these youngsters spent most of their life living as feral horses, only seeing men when they were moved from the reservation to the large winter pastures closer to the ranch, and back to the mountains when spring was around the corner.       “Yeah, seems like it,” Dean confirms, watching the beautiful creature.      He returns his gaze to the task at hand, tying the sleeping bag behind Ted’s saddle, but then realization hits him. Wait a minute, is that…? The wrangler turns to face the interested horse again, who is looking at him from about two hundred yards away, like he seems to recognize the cowboy as well.      Y/N glances from the wrangler to the horse and back. “Dean?”

     But he doesn’t respond, slowly stepping away from Ted, narrowing his eyes to see better. The horse’s mane grew long, his forelock covering his face, the black hair growing all the way down to his nose, but a hint of a blaze still visible through the curtain. Dark brown eyes take Dean in as the stallion waits, so still that one could mistake him for a statue, save the wind playing with his tail. The low vegetation hides the white markings on his legs, so the wrangler can’t tell for sure. It can’t be. He couldn’t have grown that big, he wouldn’t be the alpha, he reminds himself. But besides the horse’s size and rank within the herd, there’s nothing that indicates the animal, isn’t him. 

     Dean moves his hand to his mouth, pressing the tabs of his thumb and index finger together, creating a circle, before he places them on his lips. He inhales and whistles sharply. The sheer, high-pitched sound moves across the land, reaching ears miles away. The ears the whistle was meant for, pick up the unique sound too and instantly the caution and doubt in the horse’s stance is gone. He neighs back, loud and strong, confirming Dean’s suspicion.      “Well, I’ll be damned…” he breathes.      “You two know each other?” Y/N wonders.      Dean beams. “Yeah, we go way back.”

     He leaves Ted and Y/N on top of the hill, carefully making his way down the slope without spooking the feral horse. But the stallion doesn’t feel threatened anymore, now that he recognizes Dean. He jogs up to him, taking a few more steps before he halts. Friendly eyes take in the wrangler, his nostrils flaring when Dean tentivally reaches, picking up his scent. As a content smile spreads across Dean’s face, he lets his fingertips brush the horse’s nose, soft as velvet. He takes another step, gliding the palm of his hand up his jaw now, to his cheek and then down his neck, following the flow of the horse’s dark hair. The short summer coat has already partly been replaced, now that the cold of winter will arrive in a month or so.       Last time Dean saw him, he was barely two years old. A youngster, a boney juvenile, who was a tad small. Obviously the fellow needed more time. That’s why the wrangler gave his horse another year to grow. It worked out well, because look at him now.      “Hey, bud,” Dean says softly, ruffling the horse’s mane. “You got big.”

     From a distance, Y/N watches the reunion. She doesn’t know the whole story, but the connection between man and animal is unmistakably strong. They have a place in each other’s hearts and even though they have been apart for a while, that didn’t change. The leader of the herd, who one would expect to be dominant, accepts a human touch without hesitation. It’s an unusual response for a horse who has lived off the grid for years. 

     Warmth fills her chest, a smile on her lips, similar to the one Dean carries. It’s incredible to witness him around the animals that captivate them both. She has enjoyed his interactions many times before, watching him handle them on the ground, seeing him ride. Always kind, always respectful. He has a way with horses that is special. Her grandfather would have said he’s gifted. He also would have given her a thumbs up. Grandpa always offered wise words, often followed by silence, the quiet giving them even more strength. One of his sayings comes to mind: You can judge a man’s character by the way he treats his horses. Well then, if that’s a given, then Dean is definitely one of the kindest and most loving souls she has come across.

     The wrangler rubs the stallion’s shoulder, before he slowly turns around. He tries to beckon the beautiful dark horse with a simple shoulder movement, using only body language to invite the large animal to follow him. After a moment of hesitation, during which the stallion glances at his herd and back at his human, he follows. No rope, no pressure, no constraint, but free will. It’s hard to miss the pleased expression on Dean’s face when he looks up at the cowgirl, who still watches from Joplin’s back.      “I know country boys aren’t known for manners, but aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” she jokes.

     The stallion stops at the bottom of the small hill, aware that as the leader of his group, he still has a task to fulfill. He stands tall, checking on the herd, the autumn breeze catching his tangled mane, folding his tail around his hind legs. He looks almost mythical.      “His name is Rock N’ Roll.” Dean takes him in, proudly. “But he goes by Rock’o.”      “Is he yours?” she asks, curiously.      The wrangler nods. “I was there when he was born. He had a rough start in life. I bottle fed him the first couple of months.”      Amazed, she smiles at him. “No wonder you two are close.”             He returns her expression, taking a moment to absorb the image of both the woman who is conquering his heart, and his horse who already claimed it years ago.       “It’s gonna be much easier to bring in the herd with him on our side,” Dean says, moving to Ted’s left side, after which he puts his foot in the stirrup and swings the other over the saddle. “We have to handle it delicately, but he trusts me.”      “You think he will follow you?” Y/N assumes, keeping Joplin on the spot, who seems to have woken up from her nap, now that Dean mounted his horse as well.      “No, but he will keep the herd together. It's a misconception that the stallion leads the group. They are usually in the rear, driving up stragglers,” Dean explains.

     The head wrangler glances over his shoulder at the growing dust cloud, an indication that Benny and the rest of the crew are closing in. Within a minute, he spots the four riders and their pack horses coming over the hill. The mischievous grin on the Southerner’s face can be spotted from far away.      “Had a nice mornin’ ride, Chief?” he nags under his breath, once he has joined the two riders.      Dean shoots him a glare, his fiery green eyes demanding him to shut up without using actual words. Y/N heard the farrier, however, and no one is prepared for the comeback.      “Oh, we didn’t have time. Forty-five minutes isn’t nearly enough for what I had in mind,” she counters casually.

     Dean snorts, caught by surprise, while Benny cocks his head at the intern, staring at her bug-eyed. Y/N doesn’t give the the blue-eyed cowboy another second of her attention and leads her horse to Ted, her fingertips briefly touching Dean’s thigh as she passes him, before she rides down the hill, her head held high.      Amused, the head wrangler waits for his friend to catch the wide grin on his face, which he does once Benny snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head sniggering, his laugh rumbling deep and low in his chest.      “Brother, you are in way over your head,” he states. “She’s a pistol.”      Dean admittingly raises his brow, nodding in agreement while watching her ride off.      “She sure is.” 

     “Yah!”      In full gallop Y/N speeds up along the left flank of the herd, directing the horses back to a compact group every time they fan out. Benny and Macy are leading, Dean tailing, while Brad and Jon cover the right side. The head wrangler wasn’t lying when he said that it was going to be exciting, because she feels like she’s living a Wild West fantasy. 

     Joplin has her ears in her neck as she sprints away, cutting off two stallions who fan out. Her rider doesn’t even have to give a signal, the feisty dark mare knows exactly what to do. Even though she is smaller than the others, she stands her ground and didn’t think twice when one of the juvenile stallions took an interest in her. With a squeal and a firm kick she made clear not to mess with her, her zero-tolerance attitude keeping them at a safe distance. Y/N had a hunch Joplin was good at the job, otherwise Dean wouldn’t have chosen the strong minded horse for his intern, but she didn’t expect her partner to be this fierce. Unflagging, focussed, and fast as a bullet. It’s an absolute thrill to work with her.

     They pursued the herd into O’Grady Canyon, the higher cliffs on both sides helping the wranglers keep them together. They passed the rock formations of Tim’s Saddle and Dean and Y/N briefly exchanged a look and a smile as they crossed the small creek. Revisiting the place where they shared their first kiss only two days ago feels special, that night’s energy still in the air. So much has happened since, and yet their journey has only just begun. 

     After a quick drinking pause, they continued, before the herd could fall apart. Some of the animals are restless, while others follow a lot more calmly. Using horses instead of dirt bikes or even a helicopter is a lot less stressful for the feral animals, but being chased makes them nervous nonetheless. Rocko’s laid back attitude towards the humans keeps the panic in the herd contained to a minimum, though. 

     Thankfully, the weather is working in their favor for a change. A cool breeze is sweeping across the terrain and swishing through the canyons, keeping the temperature from rising to the heights it reached in the past couple of days. It’s a good thing the conditions are a lot more tolerable, because the riding is intense. The wind, together with the stampede, does kick up a lot of sand, engulfing the wranglers in clouds of earthy particles. Dean, being at the back of the herd, has pulled his neckerchief over his nose, keeping the dust from entering his lungs. 

     Halfway through the afternoon, the wranglers have managed to guide the group of horses safely down the slopes on the east banks of the Superstitions. A time consuming detour, but crossing the mountains without a herd is challenging enough, not to mention with over a dozen wild animals added to the clan. After descending the much smoother slopes for hours on end, the canyon functioning as a tunnel and relieving the pressure from the riders, the walls on either side fan out. Before them lays the valley, the small town of Gold Canyon in the far distance to the west, the sun edging towards it as the day begins to close in on the night. 

     “Yankee!”      It’s Dean who gets her attention, his voice rising above the sound of the stampede. Y/N turns in the saddle while she continues to follow the movement of her horse with her hips. Behind her, three young stallions have wandered away from the group in a matter of seconds. Joplin hasn’t noticed them yet, fixed on holding the flank ahead, but when her rider moves her hand to the left, she rolls away like a fighter jet. The little dark mare needs no encouragement and is at full speed within five strides, shooting across the terrain at a speed of forty miles an hour. Y/N has bent over Joplin’s neck, staying low in order to increase the aerodynamics. The fast rhythmic sound of hoofbeats tremor the ground, the wind rushes in her ears and drags tears from the corners of her eyes. The two cut off the youngsters, redirecting them back to the herd like they have been doing this together for years. Y/N’s partner in crime pushes her ears back and snaps her teeth, not so kindly advising the horses to hurry it up or else, triggering her rider to grin at her feisty character. Once the three join the others, the cowgirl lets out a cheer, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dean was absolutely right, this is just like a spaghetti western. 

     They ride along the promontory of the mountains to their right, roughly following the Lost Goldmine trail. By the time the company passes a volcanic remnant called Turk’s Head, the sky begins to change, adding orange to the blues. A glance at her old watch tells her it’s 5.10 PM. Three days ago she kept feeling her back pocket for her phone whenever she needed to know the time, or felt the urge to check her messages, but not having her Iphone with her turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Who would want to stare at a screen and miss all the good stuff? 

     Ted’s strides are long and consistent, not a trace of fatigue noticeable with the bay gelding. From behind the group, Dean should have a good overview, if it wasn’t for the dust clouds obstructing his vision. The small particles cling to his skin, his lashes, the fabric of his clothes. He can still see the boys holding their ground well on the right, the steep slopes running up into the peaks of the Flatiron assisting them, working as a funnel. Benny and Macy are keeping a good pace; if they continue at this speed, they will be home before dinner. Y/N is doing outstanding on the other flank, forming a dream team with eager little Joplin. Thankfully, Dean has eyes up ahead, because the radio on his belt begins to crack.      “Two miles to go, Chief!”      Dean takes the radio phone and presses the PTT button before he answers.      “Let’s bring them home, brother.”

     With his thumb he twists the channel nob, switching to number four, before he calls in again. They should be within the perimeter now. “Bobby, do you read me?”      It’s quiet for a moment, but then the static breaks.      “Loud and clear, son.”      The head wrangler smiles, glad to be delivering good news after three days and nights filled with nerve wrecking moments. Treacherous terrain, suffocating heat. Drought, snakes, minor injuries.       “We’re comin’ in hot. Thirty minutes.”      “The gates are open. I’ll tell Ellen to put the casserole in the oven.”      Dean’s mouth begins to water when his aunt’s famous dish is mentioned. No disrespect to Benny, but after all that canned food, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into that delicious corn, beef, and onion stocked, stomach filling meal.      “In that case, I’ll make it twenty. Over.”      “We’re ready for ya. Over and out.”

     The head wrangler hooks the radio back on his belt and glances aside. Rocko is galloping about thirty yards to his left, ahead by a few nose lengths. Sweat shimmers on his neck and shoulders, his dark bay coat almost black now. With big, powerful strides he pushes forward like a steam train, yet agile, maneuvering past rocks, cacti, and bushes. Even untrained, he has grown into a strong horse. Dean can’t wait to work with him. To strengthen that bond even more, to teach him. Watching the stallion by his side and under Dean’s wing as it were, fills him with pride already. It’s at this moment that Dean realizes; this horse is going to be something else.

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

Read part sixteen here

[lgcyujin-arc]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

                                 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐘 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀. gif credit ©

     picking the perfect song was not easy. yujin went through many decisions, some that made her cry due to not getting over certain events with the artist, some weren’t in range with her vocal abilities. trying to find herself in one song was hard, a song that could express her perfectly. but that was her problem from the beginning, she tried picking a perfect song for a woman who was nowhere near perfect. 

     so yujin laid in bed one night, earbuds in and volume on a volume that allowed her to every note and beat from her music. she placed her playlist on shuffle and sat there, skipping and pausing, writing down possible until she came across a song that made her heart skip a beat. 

     in a good way, of course.

     she played the song over and over again until she could comfortably hum the melodies with comfort. this was it, the perfect song that seemed like it was made just for yujin to cover and hopefully sing it the best way she can.

     yujin wanted a simple stage, warm lighting that set the mood for not only her but the audience who is here to enjoy and listen to a story. she was given a chance to have some extravagant stage with the prettiest props, yet she didn’t want any of that glamour because that’s not who yujin truly is. as much as she wants to be covered in jewels and the finest things, it was something that did not reflect her personality well and neither did it fit the theme of the song.

     so all she went for was that single spotlight, two streetlights spaced out with just her in the middle. this is all she needed, all she truly wanted as it was the only way for people to focus on her emotions and vocals. 

     slim fingers tightly wrapped around the stand of the microphone as the music slowly faded in. she needed to relax, take a deep breath and let herself go for once. and that’s what she did.

     with her cue, yujin started singing her lyrics softly just like luna does in the song. there was no need to force anything out, she had control over the way her voice wavered to the way she breathed. yujin wasn’t always able to do this so smoothly, with good practice comes great results. 

If someone hates you Make a wish upon the moon You’re just a little different from others You’re so pretty, you’re a small treasure

     even though she just started, yujin had grown comfortable being on this stage by herself. the stage fright she once had for two years seemed to have melt away as she gently removed the mic from its cozy home, feet moving away from the stand and near the edge of the stage. she wanted to seem engaging with the camera and the viewers. 

Young child, when I see you I think I’ll fall for you

     eyes closed as she started to hit the bridge, these few notes gave her trouble in the beginning, not able to hit them constantly as it was a quick transition. she had spent hours on that one part, not stopping until she could feel safe enough to move on. so being able to do it here, on this stage, without breaking a sweat made the young woman want to cry. 

     as the song continued, yujin felt more and more like herself, like the young girl who first started singing with a hidden purpose to her dream. even though she’s not able to fully express everything with this one song, she felt like it was a great achievement to sing something that made her drift off in a daze and smile so genuinely. 

     with the song soon coming to an end, the young singer went back to her starting place, returning the microphone to the stand and singing the last bit of lyrics. the music had gently drifted off, lights dimming in a dramatic effect as yujin had her head hanging low slightly as her ending pose. for once she wasn’t out of breath after a performance, this felt good, she felt at peace.

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖.

Did your rank put pressure on you to perform better, or do you feel relaxed?

A hum was given, yujin had to really think for this. She wasn’t sure how honest she could even be if saying the wrong things could mess up her opportunities of getting this solo - or even staying in her rank. “I think it put pressure on me in a good way. I liked the feeling. It helped me to work even harder, to keep pushing myself past a certain point.” She nodded, agreeing with herself as she continued to talk. “There was a moment of relaxation while performing because I was enjoying myself, I was finally doing something that felt right. So knowing my ranking helped me out in the long run.”

Now that you've done your performance, are you confident in your chances of getting the solo?

“Yes, I am.” There was no hesitation, no pause that made Yujin doubt herself anymore. She didn’t need that negativity anymore. “I showed a side that I barely show to my own friends. A performer who’s not so perfect, just a girl who’s trying to live her dream.” She shrugged, giving the camera a soft smile. “It was a bit of a challenge for me to sing in such high notes, but I’m really proud of myself with the outcome of that performance.”

Does this song represent the personal style you would like to go for solo?

“At the moment, yes. I want to try so much in the future, but for now, this is the route I want to go in if I’m given the chance at the solo.” Yujin was all about experimenting these days, taking a risk even if she didn’t end up succeeding in the end. “I’m proud of this song choice and I hope i was able to show that through my emotions.”

[kibumrk]

KIM KIBUM    ;    SPHERE AUDITION         dance - toy         song - simple     ( acoustic )

once jaehyun and dongmin both tell him they’re auditioning, the choice is easy for kibum. he knew from the beginning he would do it, as long as he wasn’t leaving jaehyun and dongmin behind. still, it’s hard to leave, hard to say goodbye to the company that offered a contract renewal to a 24-year-old, the company to which he’s given so much time and dedication for the last three years. 

but still. with royal debuting a girl group soon, he can’t put all his trust in the idea that they’ll have the time to debut him. he’s facing military service in a few years, and if he doesn’t debut before then he doesn’t know what he’ll do. would any company re-sign someone more than thirty years old? thinking about it makes him feel slightly nauseous. 

rachel told him that royal wouldn’t have signed him if they didn’t have plans for him, and he understands what she means, but he just can’t take that risk. 

he waits until he knows jaehyun and dongmin have both already filmed their tapes to film his own. he even helps dongmin with his own choreography, alongside rachel. now, though, he’s ready to get started on his own videos. 

he’s been working on his own auditions since the announcement, because it didn’t take long at all to come up with the songs he’d be doing. this seems like the perfect opportunity to unveil the song he’s been writing since almost the beginning of the year. for his dance, he knew immediately that he would do an updated version of the same dance that got him into royal. 

the video starts with him in position, standing in the middle of a seocho practice room and looking down at his feet. he looked back at the choreography he originally used ( thank god for his youtube channel ) and modified it, making it match his since-changed style and skill level. 

the past dance was very reminiscent of the first time he choreographed for the song, when it was meant to be a group dance for himself and luminosity. he changed it to a solo dance for the sake of the audition, but for the most part the moves and overarching concept of the dance being about a puppet under control didn’t change. 

he doesn’t want to be a puppet this time, though. this isn’t about him submitting, being a pawn for the company. he is still under their rule, sure -- moving to sphere won’t change the fact that an entertainment company basically owns his soul -- but he wants to establish, at least in his own mind, the idea that he’s his own person, that he makes his decisions. 

since he’s been in royal, the group that made the song finally had their first concert, but the dance for the song ended up being a simple one -- traditional girl group-esque moves done through half of the song as it was used as a transition between two of their more popular ones. kibum still decides to incorporate some of those feminine moves into his choreography, though -- it’s always been an important part of his personal style to not give a damn about gender norms, and he likes being able to give that little nod to the artist, even if he’s almost certain they didn’t choreograph it themselves.

the dance tells less of a story now, but is more of a here i am, this is who i am. take me as i am or not at all kind of message. it shows off his skill, with difficult hip-hop popping and smooth flow throughout, but also his personality, what with the cheeky mixture of traditionally “girly” moves with the more common hip hop style. 

he cuts out the second verse, dancing through the slow beginning, the chorus, the dance break, and the final chorus. there isn’t a time limit, he knows, but he doesn’t see much point in dancing to a verse that sounds just like the first one. 

the dance break, however, is where he really shines. almost every sound made in the electronic break down has its own small popping move associated with it, until kibum ends up on his knees on the floor, until the song sounds like it’s being turned back on and he rises smoothly, moving right back into a repeat of the chorus choreography, but with much more force now that he’s fighting an invisible battle, some force that knocked him down before he got back up again to finish the song. 

( so maybe he didn’t fully eliminate the symbolism from the choreography. whatever. sue him. )

the dance finally ends with him punching the air after the final never of the lyrics, and he edits the video so that the screen goes black then, as if he literally punched the lights out. 

when the video fades in again, kibum is sitting on a stool in front of the camera. behind him are two of royal’s coaches, ready to play piano and guitar, respectively. one is his lyric writing teacher and the other his piano teacher, both of whom are proud enough of him to help him out with this, even though it means he intends to leave royal. 

( “it’s not important where you end up. it’s important that you debut, and that someone who isn’t us hears you sing this,” they said in response to his concerns about them helping him with an audition for another company. the words stick with him, and run through his mind as he begins singing. )

I’m standing on the last road for today It’s like this every day In this big world I know I’m like a particle of dust Nothing is easy In this exit-less, maze-like world

this first verse was the most emotional he let himself get in the whole song -- he wanted the first song he wrote to be positive, a reminder of the one word that inspired the whole thing -- happiness. it took him a long time to understand that not every lyric had to be filled with poetic genius, but once he embraced that concept it became a lot easier to write. 

Happiness is only a word It’s just a dream that everyone wants But that doesn’t make sense I don’t even wanna believe that Yeah I just want it simple, simple oh

he finds the chorus a little ironic, because hasn’t his life thus far been everything but simple? he’s hardly lived a textbook life -- he was kicked out before he graduated high school, then instead of even thinking about going to university he lived on the streets for another year before moving across the world for two years. then six months after returning, he became a trainee and has been at royal ever since, feeling his own life stagnate as everyone else kept moving, going on through milestones and careers as he stayed behind in training, day in and day out. 

this could be the end of that -- this could mean the beginning of a new era for him, when he can finally start moving forward again, finally feel like he’s beginning to accomplish the dream he’s been working towards for so long. 

Everything that makes me breathe I want it to be simple Until it goes far far away Until I can’t see

he could be giving up a lot. if sphere makes him move into a dorm, then he and rachel will almost certainly have to break up simply from the fact that they’ll never see each other. 

he hates the words break up. it sounds too -- and he hates the pun -- simple for them. it feels like he can’t break up with rachel at this point, because they’re each too much a part of the other. even if he had to stop texting her, stop all contact for months before sphere finally debuted him, he still wouldn’t feel like they had broken up. he would miss her, of course, but would always know that it wouldn’t truly be over -- if he ever gave up, or if they ever kicked him out, or if his career finally reached a point where they could be openly together, he knows she’d be there, waiting for him. 

( sometimes he thinks that dongmin and jaehyun’s insistence that they’re married isn’t actually that far off. lately, those thoughts have been affecting him less and less -- he wonders if it’s because he sees the truth in them. )

Em I want it simple yeah Even if everyone says I’m wrong I hope we can all smile when the night is over

his voice is far from perfect, and he still isn’t entirely sure he shouldn’t have just done the rap he wrote for evaluations. but his lyric writing coach insisted that this song deserves this honor much more than his evaluation rap -- while the rap was good, he also wrote it in just a couple weeks. he’s been working on this for months. 

“your voice is good enough to do it justice,” she tells him. “just sing. sphere values creativity, and this is better writing than your rap, because you’ve been working on it for so long. you deserve to let it shine. sitting on it for any longer isn’t going to make it much better than it is now.”

Everything that makes me breathe I want it to be simple Until it goes far far away Until I can’t see I call you baby yeah Baby’s called my happiness yeah Yeah I just want it simple, simple I want it simple

and as kibum nears the end of the song, hearing the instruments behind him follow his lead throughout every note and verse, he finally accepts the decision he’s making. in the end, it’s just like the song -- simple. 

he’s taking an opportunity presented to him, even after considering the potential consequences. jaehyun and dongmin are auditioning with him, so he doesn’t have to worry about leaving them behind. ( he’ll deal with what he’ll do if he gets in and they don’t if and when he has to make that decision. ) royal was going to make him stop seeing rachel at some point anyway -- they both knew that when they started this last year. 

happiness and dreams are simple, once you break it down. rachel will always wait for him, so there really isn’t a choice here. 

Oh I want it simple oh yeah I want it simple