#and be loved

[neiljostensracooninstinct]

I need a fic where Kevin slowly learns how to let himself be soft again

[time-travel-bouqet]

Ok so get this...

I know I'm still standing on the shore screaming about a ship that sunk damn near a decade ago, but I got time... So on my 1,223,456,245 rewatch of Supernatural I continue to find parallels that were made between Sam and his love interest and Dean and his "friend" (love interest). I'm not exclusively talking about Cass here either... I mean did he have to see cass walking down the road the same way Sam say Jess?

Mid season 8 Dean is constantly giving Sam shit about being distracted by Amelia, on and on...eventually Dean tells him to make a choice fully in with her or hunting...Sam cuts her lose and then cut to the next scene and here's Dean, calling Benny to cut him loose after fighting for him all season against Sam's wishes.

What I don't really get is...if there were no intents to develop Dean's character into the Bisexual Baddie he became then why do all the things they kept doing?!?!

It still to this day pisses me off almost as much as the shit ending they gave Dean. No matter how many times we watch I will NEVER watch that episode again.

In this household we abhor such atrocities as Endgame, SPN 15 x 20 or Netflix's inability to renew any good, weird shows with gays and theys. I swear they cancel every single show that is interesting.

[silentgrim]

pow! 💥

[ofmiceandrese]

The fact that I’m not being fucked right now is rude and unfair

[themadknightuniverse]

can you combine ("You’re not angry. You’re scared. Scared of what this is.") and ("Are you okay? You look a little…” “I’m fine!") ?

Note : I went for a little shift from the canon. Here Nacho got rid of Tuco just like in the series, for his safety, but instead of Hector showing up next, it’s Lalo. So Nacho doesn’t work for Gus here.

—-

Nacho could remember the last time he had been sitting on a horse. He was only a kid, around five years old. He had visited family with his parents, and him and his cousins had spent about ten minutes on horseback at some fair. Nothing compared to handling a tall, strong and moody horse like he was attempting to do so today.

The black thoroughbred wouldn’t stop trying to reach for patches of grass, shift roughly on his feet whenever Nacho tried to stir him away from it, shaking his head, ears flat, and wouldn’t go straight forward to follow the path. Nacho hoped the horse would simply fall behind Lalo’s buckskin mare and make this whole surprise walk outside easier than it already was. But no such chances.

Nacho was pretty sure Lalo gave him this horse on purpose. The man had asked him earlier if he had ever ridden a horse before, and Nacho had answered by a far too sharp “Of course I did.” without ever giving any precisions about the circumstances. As if it was still required of him to impress his boss even though he was in Mexico, inside the very house of said boss.

Nacho cursed under his breath as he gripped at the reins again, trying to keep a hold on his mount who nervously stepped forward, head shaking, mouth working around the bit. Further down the earthy road, Lalo was looking at him, docile horse stopped across the path, sniffing the grass nearby.

“Are you okay, Nachito?” Lalo’s voice came from the spot he waited “You look a little…”

“I’m fine!” Nacho snapped.

The black horse, Nova, bucked just as he did. Nacho held on with both his legs and the saddle horn, determined not to fall. The mocking tone in Lalo’s voice didn’t help in any ways, which made him raise his voice, and now the horse was even more nervous.

“You sure you done that before?”

“Yeah!”

Nova all but stilled when Nacho kicked his sides to try and make him move forward. Despite the tension in his body, his own nervosity and the annoyance, Nacho minded his strength. He was careful not to kick hard, careful not to accidentally pull out some hair from the horse main, but the hardest to quantify was the strength he had to use on the reins. It didn’t help that it was two individual pieces instead of a single one like he had held on when he was a kid.

“You need to relax, cariño.”

The pet name made Nacho’s blood run hotter. He really didn’t need for Lalo to call him sweet little names 1) out there in the open and 2) while he was struggling with something. It was already a lot to deal with. This whole situation was.

Lalo and him had been sleeping together for almost a month, approximately 2 weeks after Lalo arrived in Albuquerque. Tuco had ended up in jail following Mike’s intervention, and Lalo was sent up North to deal with the whole ordeal in the meantime. It was a bit strange and stressful at first, and kind of still was. They slept together, and it was good, really good, Nacho never denied that, and it somehow didn’t change anything once they were at work. Lalo was still his boss, and he would order him around, and Nacho was fine with that. Coworkers with benefits if you would.

But then Lalo went a bit too far with his obsession over Gus Fring’s business, spurred by his uncle who would sometimes visit to make sure things were running as he wanted them to. It was evident that Hector sat at the top of the Salamanca hierarchy, and Lalo seemed to drink his every words. Which led him to investigate on the Chicken man's activities to a point where he seemed to have a good enough lead. Which led him to a name, Werner. Which led him to Mike. Which led him to a poor guy working at Travel Wire. Which led him to arson. Only to end up in jail.

Lalo never really shared all he found out about Fring with him. No matter how much time Lalo spent with him, imposing his presence at his house, spending a couple of hours or the whole night in his bed, his reasons to leave or the few elements he would share with Nacho would never be complete nor precise.

Again, Nacho was fine with that. It was the easiest way for all this to settle. He would get some good food whenever Lalo was around. Nobody would suspect anything except that he was doing a really good job at being a Lieutenant. And he would get the best stress relief activity thanks to Lalo’s skills. Nacho would sometimes be a little too famished for Lalo’s endurance, thanks to the age gap separating them, but they always worked it out. It was easy. It was simple.

But now he was in Mexico, in Chihuahua, dragged South by a just set free Lalo, after visiting the lawyers. They arrived the day prior, they ate delicious food prepared by Yolanda, one of Lalo’s people. Lalo had showed him around his property, his very own home, a strange mix between a real warm house and a military camp. For now, Lalo wanted to show him the area around his home, the people living close by. What Nacho suspected to be Salamanca territory, Lalo’s territory.

All of this was impressive. It was what Nacho himself always wanted. The kind of security he always hoped to get through this job. And Lalo was the one pulling him into all of this. In this part of the cartel world he had only was allowed to dream about. Lalo who had changed things between them the moment they entered his property under the celebrating gunshots.

Up North, Lalo’s attention had only consisted in nice meals, occasional pet names and a bit of mocking when it was only the two of them.

Now, Lalo was sweet. He was attentive to Nacho’s needs, to his comfort, and would even start doing things like kissing him on the cheek or mouth or even the back of his hand whenever he felt like doing so. Not that they never kissed. But never outside the intimacy of just the two of them in a room. And last night, when they were done fucking, Lalo held onto him afterwards. Lalo was making all this complicated. And he had yet to give Nacho any clue as to why he was there to begin with.

“Give him a bit more slack.”

Lalo had dismounted, coming close, and wrapped his larger hands around his own. Contact with Lalo had always been singular. Nacho always told himself it was because the man was a Salamanca and every single one of them always made Nacho feel unsafe, and getting one so close to him was particularly unnerving. What Nacho didn’t told himself was how electrifying Lalo’s touch was in a good way.

“Here,” Lalo said as he pulled the reigns, making them slide along Nacho’s fingers “this length is enough to hold him back from the grass, but not too much that it would stress him out or even hurt.”

The horse immediately shook his head, breathing heavily, like a sigh of relief, his body feeling less tense under Nacho. Lalo looked up at him then, his smile kinder than a couple of minutes ago. It made Nacho’s frown deepen.

“You know, it’s okay to say you never really rode a horse before. I won’t think any less of you.”

Truly, it was annoying. Nacho preferred when Lalo didn’t mind him so much.

“I did. But just… Not like this. Not in the wild. Not on such a big horse.”

Lalo’s smile broadened, still kindly, something akin to fondness, which made Nacho’s fingers close firmer on the reins, his heart beating faster as he gritted his teeth.

“Well, I’ll help you then.” Lalo’s hand was onto his shin then, forcing his foot out of the spur, “Lean forward so I can get up there.”

Nacho’s eyes widened.

“You what—“

But he didn’t really get the time to think this through as Lalo set his foot in the now free spur and held onto the saddle horn and the back of it to hoist himself up. Nacho instinctively leaned away, unwillingly giving Lalo the room to lean in very close as he settled right behind him. On the saddle. Not behind it. On it. While Nacho was still very much on it himself. The feeling of Lalo’s presence at his back was nothing unknown given what they’ve been up to for a month, but it never felt like how Lalo felt against him right now.

For starter, they were fully clothed. Second, there was much more contact than usual. Lalo’s larger chest was pressed against his back. His legs connecting with the back of his own. And his groin pressed against his ass. It only got worse when the man circled him with his arms, hands resting on his own, a couple of fingers touching the reins as well to get actual control. And despite the heat of Mexico’s early afternoon, Lalo’s breath felt incandescent against the skin of his ear and neck. Nacho would have tried to lean away if he wasn’t absolutely sure it would only press their waists closer together.

“Put your foot back into the spur.”

Nacho tried his best to focus on the task. He needed a few tries with how harder it was to slip his foot in the spur from his place on top of the horse. But he managed it, blood running hotter with every missed attempts, feeling ridiculous.

“Okay. Back straight. Legs relaxed. Look forward.” Lalo enumerated.

Nacho followed the indications like he would any order Lalo gave him. Still fighting to focus on the task and not on the presence behind him. No matter how firmer Lalo’s chest felt against his back now that he straightened his back.

“Here, gentle now.” Lalo murmured against his ear, making a shiver run down his spine.

Lalo guided his hands to stay loose, kicking softly against Nacho’s boot to make him hit the flanks of the horse kindly in turn. Nova stepped forward, easy and smooth, like Nachonhad hoped he would since the beginning.

“Good boy.”

It was clearly destined to Nova. Yet Nacho felt his cheeks warm up at those words. He tensed all over again, which made the horse slightly more jumpy in turn. Nothing like previously though, but noticeable enough that Lalo felt inspired to say something about it.

“Relájate, Nachito. I don’t know how to tell you this anymore. You’re always so tense.” Lalo laughed. “You’re gonna have a heart attack at 36 if you keep worrying so much.”

That was it. He didn’t need Lalo to tell him how to feel about any of this.

“I’m not worried. I’m angry.”

His heart skyrocketed in his chest as he finally said it. He never expressed a feeling to Lalo openly, never voiced some annoyance. But he had enough. That was enough.

“Angry?” Lalo said, almost sounding surprised. “Now that’s a big word.”

Nacho felt his blood boil. Nova sensed the raising tension beneath them, his ears flattening against his neck. Nacho felt the same. This was all so frustrating. And having this conversation in this situation precisely was upsetting. He couldn’t see Lalo, couldn’t predict his next move, couldn’t do anything but confide to Lalo while being very much exposed to the potential danger Lalo could be. He was still a Salamanca, after all. But he was done. He got enough.

“What am I doing here Lalo? Why did you take me to your home? You just decided I had to come with you out of nowhere. You didn’t told me shit since yesterday and we’re fucking horse riding now, and you are- you do those things and I- I don’t get it.”

Speaking his mind felt both liberating and, once he realized what he had just done, bone chilling. Nova kept walking forward, smoothly, joining Lalo’s mare who’s been patiently waiting there the whole time. Nova stopped then, as the horses sniffed at each other’s snout.

"You’re not angry. You’re scared.” One of Lalo’s hand left his own to connect with his stomach, fingers running along his abdomen, awakening chills, only to secure his arm around his middle. Lalo somehow leaned even closer, tucking his chin in the hollow between Nacho’s neck and shoulder. His thumb stroked his own where it rested on the reins. “Scared of what this is."

Nacho huffed. How ridiculous. Nacho knew fear, he experienced much of it in the last years of his life. This wasn’t fear. It was…. What was it?

“If I brought you here with me, it’s because I like the time I spend with you. You are full of qualities Ignacio.” Lalo lowered his voice then, making the moment feel like something infinitely more intimate “Don’t think I don’t see you, hm? I see you. I do.” Nacho shivered, face warming up “I see what you want. I see your ambition. And I would love to have you by my side.” Lalo made a pause. As if the man ever doubted anything. “More than just a Lieutenant. If you accept, you could even be a Salamanca.”

Nacho stared at their joined hands. At Lalo’s delicate caress. At the way his hand engulfed his own. Lalo had seen through him. He had perceived his wants. And was ready to offer it on a silver plate. The condition being to stay by his side. And if Nacho thought about it, whenever Lalo approached him, whenever it was only the two of them, there was nothing that made him want to step away.

And if he was honest, when time went by for too long without Lalo’s attention on him, he would start to look up for a call, a glance, a gesture, a word, that was meant to beacon him closer. And if his honesty was to be complete, he would admit that whenever Lalo’s body was connected to his own physically, he couldn’t help but feel somehow safer. And maybe, when Lalo held him last night, he fell asleep without his body locked into that trace of permanent tension that persisted in his usual slumber. But to place actual words on any of this would require a tremendous effort Nacho wasn’t ready to conjure just yet.

Also there was no way Lalo would ever see him as an equal. No matter the offering he was making, no matter whatever kind of appreciation he had for him, Lalo would never let him really stand by him as an equal. And Nacho aspired to reach that level of rank in the cartel, at least. It was where the true safety started. The first step that would allow him to stop looking over his shoulder. And surely, Lalo knew he wanted just that, if he was that perceptive. Then, why? This was really confusing.

“Lalo-“

“You don’t have to answer me just yet. Take your time. I’m a patient man, Ignacio.”

Lalo kissed his cheek, and dismounted. Nacho observed the man as he hoisted himself back onto his mare, clicked his tongue, spurring both horses forward down the road.

Nacho couldn’t look away from Lalo’s back, all the questions in his mind colliding into a mess of thoughts. Nova walked easily down the path, following Lalo’s lead, ears rotating to catch the sounds around them, but relaxed. Nacho felt himself sympathize with the horse again. He did felt less tense, less angry… no, less scared. Maybe following Lalo wasn’t a bad idea.

[salkiisdead]

Being home sucks. Especially cuz I'm trans, it's a reminder that until I have a way to escape I really can't do anything. Because as much as these people are family they would happily kill me (they have tired before when I said I wasn't Christan lmao) or id want to end my self. Worst part is I don't even get angry about it anymore I can't use the fact that this sucks to do better. Atleast it gives me cool art ideas. I'm so close to being able to get a job. So close to finally being free. Just got a survive a bit longer.

[ecstacycake]

the struggle of either wanting to fit in to be well liked or be myself and nobody likes you bc ur weird