#and you can see it! he tells sam and romane about his feelings for romane. he's the most direct when trying to help victor.

[hyperfixation-or-death]

Children mirroring their parents in Parallels.

Arnaud accuses Victor of lying, to which he responds that he's telling the truth. Later, Victor accuses Alice of lying, to which she responds that she's telling the truth.

Sofia tells Bilal that she taught him never to lie, because if he does, he breaks her trust. Later, Bilal tells Victor that he never lied to him, and to trust him.

Vanessa puts up with Herve's actions until they threaten Romane and Camille's future, at which point she says that she wants him out of her house. Later, Romane puts up with Herve's actions until they threaten to separate her and Camille, at which point she says that she wants him out of her life.

Alice tells Victor that Sam is responsible, indirectly stating that he should be as well. Later, Sam tells Victor that it's time he takes responsibility.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[padscomm]

ethan?

part 3

tara carpenter x f!reader

warnings: grammatical errors, so yea

a/n: I didn't expect this to blow up, but thanks alot!!

Anika · nikayoko

; anika

hey, are you okay?

you stormed out w/o hearing us say anything

I'm worried

; y/n

yea

I'm okay

nothing happened, it's just my tita auntie

was finding me because it was late

; anika

y/n, I thought you didn't have curfew?

; y/n

tita auntie made new rules ig

; anika

c'mon, stop lying to me y/n

I know that you're lying

you can tell me everything

if your not comfortable, just tell me okay?

I'll give you some space

; y/n

I'm not comfortable of talking about it

sorry anika, I promise I'll tell you when

I finally feel comfortable

; anika

take your time, don't rush.

INSTAGRAM

ynartist

liked by carpensam , nikayoko , lndry and 130 others

ynartist nobody knows my real birthday lol, do you even know me?

Ethan · @ lndry

when’s your birthday anyways?

· replying to @ lndry

Y/N · @ ynartist

i am not telling you that

Anika · @ nikayoko

I guess nobody know's you that well, even if your a talkative person

· replying to @ nikayoko

Y/N · @ ynartist

I don't tell info about me, unless your willing to know about me:))

mindymarts

liked by nikayoko , vcchad , tarafilms and 560 others

mindymarts my roman empire

tara · @ tarafilms

delete this right now!!

· replying to @ tarafilms

chad · @vcchad

but we look cute there

Mindy don't delete it

sam · @carpensam

r u fucking my sister?

· replying to @carpensam

mindy · @ mindymarts

probably he is

ynartist

liked by lndry , tarafilms , mindymarts and 1000 others

ynartist I'm gonna deactivate my account since i need to get away from shit, lol.

Anika · @ nikayoko

; Anika

mindy

have you been seeing how

y/n has been acting?

; mindy

oh yea

it's very weird

actually

do you think it's about chad & Tara?

; anika

I think so

; mindy

does she like Chad?

; anika

she said that she see's Chad as a brother figure

come to my apartment like right now

; mindy

okay?

after a few minutes, Mindy arrived at anika's apartment. “hey, baby.” anika pulled her in for a kiss, “lets talk about y/n. because I'm actually worried for her.” mindy didn't understand why anika was so worried for you, when she knew that you can take care of yourself.

“why are you so invested in y/n?”

“because, I care for her. I don't really see how you guys care for her.” anika said. mindy didn't say anymore, and just listened to anika yapping about y/n.

the both of them were on the couch, Mindy laying on anika's lap. “let’s go to her apartment.” Mindy suggested, and anika said yes.

and the both of them did, they went to your apartment, sharing with ethan. mindy didn't like ethan that much, but anika, ethan and you were the most closest people on earth. but anika alway's felt, that you and ethan had something together.

anika knocked on the door, and anika saw ethan’s tall figure Infront of her. “can i help you anika and mindy?” ethan asked politely, while mindy frowned, and wasn't buying it. mindy barged in the apartment, and knocked on your door.

“y/n? it's me mindy! can we talk?” you heard mindy knocking on your door, loudly. you didn't have any choice, and you just opened it.

“hi mindy, and anika. what are you two doing here?” mindy looked at you with disgust, “you were definitely been crying all night, judging by the looks of yours.” you were offended at the words of mindy.

“so? why do you care.”

“y/n, let's talk.” anika says, you agreed because you trusted anika, but not mindy. so you guys let her out for a bit, she didn't care.

Mindy was going to their place, of course McDonald's! and the core four was there, so she was excited since she was about to get food.

she arrived at McDonald's, and saw chad hooking his hand on tara’s shoulder. “whats up!!” Mindy says loudly. “ohh hey mindy, where have you been?” tara asked, “at y/n’s place, anika and ethan are there right now, they're having a deep talk.”

“ethan?” tara looked at mindy, “why is he hanging out with that douchebag?” tara frown’s, “well they are like something, that's what anika said to me.” mindy sense’s jealousy in the room.

“i can sense jealously in the room..” mindy jokes, and tara doesn't like it. “i need to use the restroom.” she goes directly to the bathroom, slamming the door.

“why does she trust Ethan more than me! I'm supposed to be the one for y/n.” tara thought to herself.

[bredforloyalty]

Hii would you like to share your favourite fics?? In any fandoms tbh i just trust your taste a lot 🫣

oh i am an animal i don't think i have good taste i have the taste of someone who's always horny and a teeeeny tiny bit fucked in the head jcsgbhy but i'm honored you asked and i'll share<33 you said you don't care if it's more smut or more plot so i didn't worry too much about that 👍

first off, a warning: most of these are explicit, involve incest, rape, child sexual abuse, and more!!! also most of them are on the shorter side + all are male slash! you'll be able to tell based on the pairing and the concept (i'll describe them a little) so just go by common sense and, idk. beware ahaha i'll go from some pairings to assorted and then the rick and morty ones will be under the read more (i feel like i can't leave them out because some of them genuinely made me insane and changed me as a person or allowed me catharsis like very very few fics before and even though it's repulsive to most others i can't deny that. there are big favorites in there. favorites of all time if i'm being fully honest). let's go..

gcest:

ghost dancer - by the lovely and talented rye @ supersonic1994!!!! noel overdoses on coke. i looove the image of kissing your brother when you think you're about to lose him forever,, does that make sense? love is love is love when one is desperate and if it's deep then it can transcend taboos and boundaries of self and all that shit. you know

things we never see - told through jill furmanovsky, their photographer, noel comes back (after they had almost broken up and he went to san fran without telling anyone). when it comes to them i do love an outsider pov. speaking of outsider pov,

you never notice you are blind - five times alan mcgee thinks he catches something between them and one time he definitely does. it is what it is

i don't really want to know - Nawt consensual, made me a bit sad hehe liam is not sick like him

some that are like, unhealthy jealousy possessiveness dubcon angst and so on: sins like scarlet, fishhook, what am i gonna dream now

samdean:

hungry til well fed - by the wonderful bug @ deanjohn (and mandymovie)!!! iconic cannibalism fic, just so them

brighter wound - wound blood pain codependency babeyyy

take the things you love - hathfrozen is iconic also.. i loved the heaven fic (you'll find it. if you want) but i want to share this because i like how conflicted sam is about their relationship and about the way dean treats him. smutty though

manhattan for beads - what i wrote down is this is the one where they try and it doesn't work and it's heartbreaking. so yeah candle_beck can be trusted w spn, iconic too

serpent round your heart - one of the first ones i read haha ^^

deanjohn:

where the evening splits in half - bug fic also!! all of bug's fics are great do check them out if you're interested in this pairing or dadson at all, seriously.. "Sam says, "I know how you felt about the man." No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know that Dad was a pig. He has no idea how far down Dean was in the mud with him. How dirty they both were, how much Dad ruined him."

midnight midnight - first time, dean hooks up with men so john can take blackmail pics and he gets jealous and yeah, hooray

and you learn how to settle for what you get - sex again but they're fucked up so it's always fucked up. dean never asked for it

waltjesse:

like i'm underwater - by the amazing @ kuleaxoxo!! yayyy power imbalance!! "Mister White's showing him off, isn't he?"

monaco - jesse gifts walt the watch. dubcon

i'm asking you to - rape roleplay, ignored safeword

others:

countercontrol - terence fletcher/andrew neiman, "Andrew leaves; but he always comes back. He likes to think that it’s of his own accord. But then he thinks of those paintings of staircases with the optical illusion of the stairs going nowhere except winding into each other, going the same place again and again, and ultimately going nowhere."

beach fag - roman roy/jeryd mencken, "Roman wishes he was a kid with an adult boyfriend."

the serpent under it - aaron stampler/martin vail, look i fucking love primal fear this is post-canon they get together etc. important to me

simple pleasures - edward nygma/bruce wayne, this is a big favorite i can't leave it out because when this was um coming out i was fucking obsessed. it's long i don't even read long fics

there's a head in the refrigerator - michael afton/william afton, this one's sort of self-explanatory..... i felt we needed necrophilia representation here

rick and morty:

bitter and begging - FAVE.. after the jealousy and possessiveness in vindicators 3 (the episode with the avengers copies that morty is enamoured with. who rick slaughters when he's off his shit and then covertly confesses how much he loves morty basically). this one really got me i think i cried because it's all so sad but um. full of love

that's my boy - this is the first of a series, i like that it's the start of.. the sexual abuse and they're still uncertain like i enjoy the in-betweens and when lines are crossed

love is a solitary thing - this one i love so much, it's about morty's fantasies and unrequited feelings for rick

safe - gen, morty starts talking with another morty whose rick rescues mortys from abusive ricks. i always really liked how the multiverse is like a prism? you can explore the different facets of their relationship and the possibilities and the extremes through it, you can have your characters meet their worst and their best versions, i just think selves from different dimensions are a great tool. in storytelling. and eliciting emotions. anyway rovingotter is fucking solid here

hands - a favorite.. the atmosphere... "He wonders if he'll still be sitting here in ten years, handing Rick his screwdrivers, feeling that hot instinctive rush of pleasure at knowing what Rick is going to ask from him before he even asks: bred for it."

the shape you made me - morty's stream of consciousness. i usually don't give stuff like this a chance but when i tell you that this affected me. because fuck it did affect me

the damage has been done - um..... internal cardiac massage fic 🥴

repurposed - "Is it ethical to leave the horrors of the universe at a boy's fingertips?"

and last but NOT least there's this series that i haven't read in full, just a little bit broken, that fucking killed me. tbh! i sobbed at some parts legitimately. maybe that's just on me i don't know maybe it isn't. the first 5 are crazy. admittedly alcoholism runs in my family too (lol!) and their relationship is so tragic.... this fic is about when rick quite literally stole the kid's dreams, concocted an entire plan to erode morty's love of heists and make him stop writing his heist movie script (and having any aspirations or plans outside of rick). when i watched that episode these are exactly the emotions i wanted more of.. it's madness......

[canonicallysoulmates]

J2 Gold Panel ATLCon 2023

The boys are looking handsome wearing blue, and red 🥰

Jared brings up the Saturday night concert and asks the crowd if it was thumbs up or thumbs down, then he shares a quick story about how when he was in High School the movie, Gladiator, came out and his Latin teacher was pissed off because in the movie the Emperor gives a thumbs up to mean mercy and thumbs down to mean death but according to Jared's teacher realistically it would be the opposite thumbs up for death and thumbs down for mercy because it's supposed to be a representation of the sword.

Out of curiosity, I did look this up and while some kind of hand gesture involving the thumb was used scholars can't say definitively what this looked like because writers at the time didn't really describe it, and if they did we seemingly have yet to find their writings. So there's a lot of scholarly debate as to what these gestures actually looked like and meant in Roman times. The popular idea that thumbs down was involved and meant death is attributed to an 1872 painting by French artist, Jean-Léon Gérôme, called Pollice Verso which depicts a gladiator asking for his life while the crowd gives a thumbs down. And that's your history lesson for today now back to our scheduled programming! 😅

Getting back to the panel, Jared mentions that there were times that were never printed where Dean would do an exorcism and Jensen would fumble on purpose, and Jared knew he did this on purpose and he would tell Jensen so and Jensen's reply would basically be 'yeah, but if I do it good they'll make me do it more, if i make it look like I can't do it they'll have Sam do it'.

And Jensen mentions what he called "his senior moment" which is that during the Saturday night concert he was singing Simple Man, and it's been so long since he sang it that he forgot the lyrics to the last verse. Backstage, prior to singing, he had the feeling this might happen because, again, it's been so long since he's sang it so the lyrics were printed out for him and placed in front of him on the floor but the font was too small for him to see them so when Jason Mann went over to him, he took his glasses and he said it was like the Matrix 😂

Getting into the questions, not gonna lie the first one is a weird one, but does Jensen remember the color of the belt and shoes he was wearing with the blue suit in his Man About Town UK photoshoot? He answers that he doesn’t think he had a belt on which gives us fangirl!Jared saying "easy access"...sir!

Anyways, Jensen thinks they were brown dress shoes. He says that in those photoshoots you walk in and there’s racks of clothing and generally a stylist and an assistant who will ask what you like, and he'll tell them that he doesn't know that they're the professionals so they just had him try stuff on and he wasn't really paying attention also he had like 12 outfit changes that afternoon which makes Jared mutter 'Jesus'. Jensen says that yeah, it was a lot that photoshoots are not their (his and Jared's) favorite thing to do, they're a necessary thing for their industry but he did have fun on that shoot. x

Out of all the famous horror movie villains which would be the hardest for Sam and Dean to face? Jared says it’s a name he can’t say aka Voldemort. Jensen says the easiest would be Michael cause he just stands there, that he's never understood how he catches people like does he get on like a segway. Jared mentions any villain Walking Dead, I wouldn't be too confident in that answer cause Negan but also I don't watch that show but I do know they've made some changes to the Walkers and they can open doors and climb shit now.

Jensen is still trying to figure out who would be the toughest, Jared tells him he'd go Star Wars or Harry Potter but those aren't horror movies. Someone in the crowd yells out Jason to which Jared replies he already beat Jason. The crowd also yells out Freddy Krueger but Jensen thinks Sam and Dean would have figured it out although he would be a tough one. x

Can they share any aspects of strain that their characters experienced that might have thought them something? Jared says that in his 15 and a half years on SPN he learned a lot, that it's hard for him to parse out what he learned with the help of Sam and what he learned with the help of Dean, and what he learned from the help of whomever. What he learned is that he went from being 22 to being 38 but he certainly learned that we are more capable than we understand, than we believe. That he loves stories of ultra marathon runners, or the one he was listening to recently on a podcast of a guy who trecked across Antartica. That those stories really inspire him cause sometimes when you're stressed about something and you go 'there's no way I'll figure this out' there's a little reminder in him to keep at it, and that as much as it is a cliche every thousand mile journey began with a single step. He felt that with Sam, and with Dean, and with the show so no matter how tired he is, no matter how emotionally or physically beat down he feels he just tries to keep on going forward.

Jensen says he'll echo what Jared said just slightly different view point. That both Dean and Sam, as his grandfather would say, when the good Lord made them he forgot to put the quit in them. They don't quit. And he can 100% be sure that Jared also has that in him as well and he feels confident he has some of that as well but it's because now they represent these characters that don't have quit in them that that he thinks drives them in their personal lives a little more than it would have had they never played these characters. x

How are the kids? Jared answers that theirs are good, that they finish school in May. That Shep just did a PSIA which is similar to the mathletes Jared did and he got like 4th on the district so he's a chip of the block, that Odette is still queen of the world as far as she knows, and Tom is kicking ass he's in sports and is doing well, that they're all safe and sound. Jensen says his are currently gallivanting around Europe with D, that they were at a museum today and she told him it was a total disaster. JJ is great, the twins however are 6 and very opinionated and if they don't like something- it reminds him of a story Ryan Gosling told about his little girl about how he took her to the Louvre and his little girl gave the museum a thumbs down that Arrow is like that, and that makes Jared share a story about when they were all in the Austin airport together last week on their way to Rome. They were supposed to have a 2hr layover in Atlanta but it ended up being around 5hrs so Jensen and D were trying to keep the kids awake and trying to think positive that maybe this is good cause they'll be more tired - at which point Jensen says that it was nice to have Uncle Jared stuck there with them (💕) - and when they were set to board Jared is standing with his rolling carry on and his backpack and he feels something push his carry on forward, when he looks behind him there's Arrow with her roller bag giggling evilly at him cause she wanted to play so he started to play with her. And then, at another point, he and Jensen had a little race with Arrow and Zep sitting on their carry on's, so Jensen has one of those aluminum rolling carry on's, the ones that you can sit on, and he was walking Arrow up and down on it but Zeppelin started complaining that it wasn't fair even though Jensen had spend a couple minutes already walking him up and down on the carry on too so Jensen looked at Jared and started signaling towards the kid, and Jared was like 'come here buddy' and put him on his bag and they had a little race through the airport. This is so cuuuute!!! I need y'all to go watch this moment for yourself cause it's an adorable story but also so you can see what the look was that Jensen gave Jared when he was asking for help with Zeppelin because it's such a help me with our kids look. x

Jensen had mentioned Lonesome Dove a while back but who would be Woodrow and who would be Augustus? Jensen feels like it's obvious, he would be Augustus and Jared would be Woodrow. Also, Jared mentions that the key makeup artist on Walker won the Emmy for makeup on Lonesome Dove! x

If they got a 60 sec ad in the Super Bowl what would it be about? Jensen goes "ha! you know how much money I just lost buying a 60 second ad?" Jared says that it would just be them crying, and Jensen says it would be an ad about how to stupidly spend your money 😂

Jared jokes his would be herpexia 🤣

The next fan read an article a couple years about how people think, some think in full sentences like a running monologue while others think in pictures and concepts, how do the boys think? Jared says he is absolutely the former. That he's either thinking solving the problems of the world in his head, or meow mix jingle, which he does part of, Jensen asks him if he sees things in text to which Jared replies yes, that he's thinking of the description of the visual more than the visual. Jensen also asks him what the recall looks like in his head when it comes to scripts, Jared replies that it flips in that case that when he's doing a scene he can see the script where the page turns, he doesn't have a photographic memory but he has a visual memory but that's for memorization if he's thinking about what he's gonna do later that day when he gets home he's not thinking about how it looks necessarily he's like making lists in his head.

Jensen says he would probably lean the other way, that when he memorizes a script at first he literally sees the page in his head and is reading lines which is largely why he can memorize lines that he's not even saying like he'll know what Jared's lines are he's basically reading the text in his head. And when talking about daily life if he's thinking about what he has to do when he gets home, he's visualising so if he's thinking about opening the door he sees that door and the dog going out, or thinking about getting the groceries he visualizes the grocery store and the aisle he has to go down.

Jared adds that a big day on Walker or SPN, a one hour episodic tv show, is like 8 pages, if you have an 8 page day you have a full day he thinks the most they've ever had was an 11 page day and that's kind of undoable unless you absolutely trust your director or is a lot of dialogue. He asks Jensen what's the most pages he's done in one day, Jensen answers 24 when he was on Days Of Our Lives that they usually shoot 60 pages a day. x

When the boys had a home ie the bunker was there anything they had to take with them from home or that they kept as a comfort thing when they had to go back on the road? Jared quips a flask. He also says he thinks they probably still had the cooler, he asks Jensen if he got legos or army men Jensen says he got all the weapons in the back. Jared says that when the show ended they had said the things they would love to have so their props department send them some things like motel cards, samulet, an army man and some legos so those are in safe keeping in his house.

The fan asks if Sam and Dean have any favorite driving games, someone in the crowd mentions punch buggies which Jensen says he calls slug bug which is when you slug someone when you see a bug car, and that that's probably what they played Jared says probably while the other one was asleep. Jensen also adds that there a couple of other things that they got from the set which they're not at liberty to talk about but the one thing he really wanted was Dean's two weapons of choice: his pistol and his sawed off shotgun. And that's a little trickier of a prop to take home and across the border because it's not a prop it's a firearm so instead what he did was he got a 1911 Colt .45, and he comissioned the craftsman in Van who had done the filigree engraving in Dean's gun to come out of retirement to do that filigree on the firearm that he bought, and he actually ended up using it in an episode just so he could say it was on tv. Then he did all the paperwork and sent it back home but the shotgun is ilegal if it's sawed off so he didn't think he'd be able to get it until he talked to his dad who told him that he tought his uncle had one and he did, he left it to Jensen when he passed so now his collection is complete. x

J2 Gold Panel Atlanta 2023

[heyho-simonrussellbeale]

A Piece of Work — Simon Russell Beale on a career spent playing Shakespearean roles

Simon Russell Beale’s memoir of a career spent playing some of the great (and many of the minor) Shakespearean roles, is as much a work of criticism as of autobiography. It is a better read for that.

By Cordelia Jenkins August 30 2024

“It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue,” says William Shakespeare’s heroine Rosalind, breaking character to speak to the audience at the end of As You Like It, written in 1599. Neither has it been the fashion, since then, to see the actor play the critic. In fact, the whole idea of character analysis in Shakespeare studies was out of fashion until relatively recently. But Simon Russell Beale’s memoir of a career spent playing some of the great (and many of the minor) Shakespearean roles, is as much a work of criticism as of autobiography. It is a better read for that.

At the age of 63, Beale can claim to be one of Britain’s most prolific and revered stage actors. The book is a patchwork of episodes from his life and sketches of the characters he has played over the years, starting with the lonely Roman, Cassius, and moving through some of the great comic and tragic heroes, Benedick, Richard III, Macbeth, Leontes and Lear.

While Beale is careful to avoid making claims to be “an academic, or even a genuine amateur specialist”, he confesses that he finds it impossible not to think of the characters he plays “as less than living, breathing men and women”. And when he breaks off from telling the story of his own life to deliver his observations on a particular role, the insights feel truer for being born of emotional, rather than purely intellectual, labour.

Beale is honest about the pitfalls of this approach. His interpretations are partial and deeply subjective. His chosen characters are typically loners or outsiders in some sense, looking for acceptance and, above all, redemption. And the themes he draws out from them are reflected in the telling of his own life story. It is easy, for example, to see what the appeal of joining a company of actors might have been to the son of an army doctor who had a peripatetic and often isolated boyhood.

His meditation on the crippling grief of Leontes, the jealous king who is responsible for the death of a beloved child, turns upon Beale’s memories of the death of his younger sister, Lucy, who suffered from a congenital heart defect and died at the age of four.

Readers may flag at the level of detail with which Beale describes his early career at the Royal Shakespeare Company and the National Theatre. But 30 years working in British theatre have given him an unusually acute understanding of the relationship between what he describes as the “work in the study and the work on the stage”.

He interrogates the centuries-long scepticism that actors have had for scholars, and vice versa. “I have met scholars who believe that Macbeth and King Lear should never be performed, because any attempt to do those plays justice will fail,” he writes, gearing up to dismantle that argument in his account of his own performance of Lear in Sam Mendes’ production of 2014.

In an interview with the FT this year about playing the part, Beale remembered a game with a fellow actor in which they habitually ranked “our top five favourites and our bottom five” of Shakespeare’s plays. “The bottom five were always the same. And the top five used to change, but Lear was always in them,” he said. It’s a revealing anecdote that hints at how consistent a presence Shakespeare’s plays have been through his career. A life’s work in fact — irrespective of the changing fashions.

Cordelia Jenkins is deputy editor of FT Weekend Magazine

A Piece of Work: Playing Shakespeare and Other Stories by Simon Russell Beale Abacus £25, 288 pages

[mrsaltieri-real]

Hi CJ, how would you rank the Ghostfaces?

Hey, Anon.

My ranking varies day to day so I’ll just tell you what it happens to be atm.

1: Mickey Altieri. Are you surprised? No, probably not. He’s been my number one ever since I can remember. He’s strong, brutal fast and GOD, he’s so fucking fine my heart cannot take it. Plus, he’s the first Ghostface to have an unmasking reveal and a bitch LOVES the unmasking reveals. He’s my baby girl and I love him forever. Also, I’m in love with Timothy Olyphant.

2: Stu Macher. He’s also my baby girl. I just love him so much he’s so funny and cute and brutal. Invented the iconic knife swipe GOD. I just adore every single thing about him.

3: Billy Loomis. Babe. Babe, babe, BABE. He’s so pretty I want to burst into flames. Complex baby girl fr my heart goes out to him. Again, brutal! “We all go a little mad sometimes.” RAIL. ME.

4: Amber Freeman. Best female Ghostface hands down. Her kills style is so chaotic and messy I LOVE it. She killed Dewey which aches my fragile little heart but you gotta give her props for doing it. She’s so hot. SO. HOT. She’s also literally insane and I like em crazy.

5: Ethan Landry. Although he doesn’t have a “hIgH KiLl cOuNt” I couldn’t give a flying cunt on a donut. He’s baby. His Anika kill was absolutely insane and his whole attitude in Act 3 was so fucking enjoyable. Just running around having a grand old time. Mood.

6: Charlie Walker. I’ve been experiencing some insane Charlie brain rot lately so he’s sky rocketed on my list, he may go higher who knows. Most brutal kill in the franchise, the phone call with Sidney, “I’m going to slit your eyelids in half so you don’t blink when I stab you in the face.” OKAY!!!! he’s fucking adorable I want to sit on his fucking face.

7: Quinn Bailey. She’s fast. Fuck she’s fast. She’s hot. Fuck she’s hot. She had so many feelings I honestly felt for her. Gale’s attack scene was so fucking cool. Her fake out death had me tbh. I love her, just not as much as others. Also, “Heyyyy roomies.” She can HIT.

8: Richie Kirsch. I don’t like him, I don’t hate him. He’s just pretty meh to me. His kills are cool I guess? I like that he goes for the throat. Jack Quaid’s acting was fucking phenomenal. He was funny and I really would’ve preferred him as a final boy.

9: Jason Carvey. Wasted. Potential. His Laura kill was so fucking brutal oh my GOD. I would have loved to see him more as a Ghostface because he would’ve been so cool.

Now to those I hate. Fuckers.

10: Nancy Loomis. Ugh. Nancy. Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. Fuck off. Bitch. You think you can kill my guy Randy? Fuck you. You think you can hire my baby girl Mickey and just betray him like that? Fuck you, you didn’t even succeed in killing him. Fuck off with your one kill. I like her motive though although like… Why did you just leave Billy? Make it make sense.

11: Wayne Bailey. God. I actually used to like him a lot but after rewatching I was like ew. No. NO. I get Sam killed your precious baby boy but like… You have two other children and you had to ruin their lives because of your sons obsession with Stab? Fuck you. His kills were amazing though I have to hand it to him. The bodega scene is top tier.

12: Roman Bridger. Okay. I adore Scott Foley. I cannot stand Roman. Imagine getting a whole teenager to kill your fucking mom because you’re too much of a little bitch to do it yourself. Grow up. Also, he’s so fucking whiny like oh my GOD just shut the fuck up, nobody cares what you have to say. His whole character and backstory was just horrible in my opinion.

13: Jill Roberts. Not a surprise to anyone. I hate her. I hate her and her boring ass character. Her two kills were boring and shitty and also I despise Emma Roberts. I will say nothing more about it.

[crowley-the-1-true-king-of-hell]

Another thing I love about the Crowstiel dynamic is that it is authentic. Crowley gives Cas the freedom to not suppress his thoughts and feelings. If Cas (not Godstiel) ever has a negative opinion about Dean, the vast majority of the time he either says nothing or very carefully words it in the most soft way possible, or says it in such a Cas like way that Dean is more like "huh?" than offended i.e "you aren't the broken shell of the man I believed you to be" is an example of a statement that made Dean go huh

Cas is afraid of Dean not liking him

Meanwhile Cas can tell Crowley "when you betray us I will be the one to carve out your heart" and Crowley just smiles. Cas doesn't need to suppress his opinion and his feelings, because Crowley's mature reactions give Cas that space

When Crowley takes something deeply personal he either kills them, helps kill them, or wants to kill them but because of a soft spot he has, he doesn't actually kill them. Crowley's defence mechanism, as proven by Dick Roman is to lash out when he feels hurt. Also his defence mechanism is proven by his desire to have Cas dead even though deep down he didn't really want it, after Cas hurt him through betraying him

Flirting is not his defence mechanism. Flirting is one form of Crowley's empathy in action "I understand why you feel this way, so I won't make you feel bad about it" i.e I understand why you feel like I will betray you. I can take that in stride. He also likes to lighten the tense atmosphere

What really got to Crowley in Crowley vs Sam is not that Sam yelled at him for killing his loved ones, Crowley is mature enough to get why Sam is mad. It was Sam saying anything good he does doesn't matter that really got to him

Anyway back to Cas

Cas has the freedom to be his authentic self as Crowley has the empathy to get where Cas is coming from and lighten the mood rather than snap at Cas for his valid feelings

Now "when you betray us" is definitely one of those the pot calling the kettle black type statements, because Cas betrayed Crowley before. But despite that Cas' feelings are still valid. There is a logical fallacy called tu quoque where you dismiss an opponent's argument, just because they did the very thing they are arguing against. So dismissing Cas' worry that Crowley would betray them just because Cas betrayed Crowley is a form of tu quoque

Crowley has more understanding than me tbh because I think I would have said "like you betrayed me?" in retaliation. Like no offence to Cas, I love him, but I would snap. Crowley didn't though because Crowley gets that no matter how upset he is over what Cas did in the past Cas' feelings are valid and he has the patience and understanding to give Cas space for that

Also Crowley is a masochist so that plays a role in liking the idea of his heart being carved out. Also demons can probably live without their internal organs

So when you have Cas looking to Crowley for reassurance, joking with Crowley, and going to Crowley for help. It is authentically Cas

When Vincent's sister shuts the door on him. Cas turns to Crowley for reassurance. "Do you think that happens to Sam and Dean?" He was really hoping that Crowley would reassure him that Sam and Dean also have doors shut in their face. Crowley's response was sarcastic because he's Crowley and probably was not the reassurance Cas was looking for, but it's still meaningful that Cas looked to Crowley for reassurance that the two detectives he admires most also have that happen to them

When Cas was reading Vincent's breakfast recipe, it was Crowley who he trusted to not judge him if he got it wrong. It was Crowley who he trusted to correct him gently without making a fuss like Dean would

Plus the inside joke of Agent Zappa

When you look at Crowley in that light suddenly "how is Gavin possibly your son, he has so much empathy?" turns into "oh I can see how Gavin is your son now and I can see why the different way you were raised meant your empathy was more suppressed than your son's"

Rowena can you imagine who she hurt while she was raising Crowley? When Crowley says "I didn't have any rolemodels, my mother was a witch" it implies that her witchy behaviour was an example to Crowley and therefore because Crowley thought abuse was an acceptable method of getting his way, it means he saw his mother abuse others and abuse him and she used her witchcraft to do so

Look if his mum was a good witch, then he would have had a good rolemodel, and he wouldn't have blamed it on her being a witch. He wouldn't have said that his mum wasn't a great rolemodel because she was a witch

She gave him nightmares using witchcraft to manipulate him and imagine what she did to Crowley when he was a child?

Then the abandonment issues, his addiction to alcohol because his mother got him addicted to it at a young age by using whisky to make him sleep, lack of support for trauma and being raised to believe abuse is love got taken out on Gavin

Gavin broke the cycle because he had advantages that Crowley didn't have. Gavin saw how drinking excessively led his father to a miserable life vs Crowley seeing that his mother's abuse actually led to her gaining respect until she got noticed by the guards for witchcraft. So Gavin sees his father's action ruin his father's life and thinks yeah that won't be me but Crowley sees his mother's actions improve her life right up until she gets found out

While both Gavin and Crowley were abused, their perspective on the abuse is different, and it's why Gavin broke the cycle but Crowley didn't at the time he was human

It's why Gavin was able to go in for a hug, because Gavin has his father's empathy. His father's understanding and his father's potential to forgive. Gavin already had the Prince of Hell title. He didn't have to try and hug Crowley, because there was nothing to gain from it. He already got his fancy title from his father. The hug was Gavin feeling a surge of love and forgiveness

Gavin puts his life at risk because Sam and Dean lied and said his father was sick. Gavin believed Sam and Dean would hurt him and he went anyway

Gavin is a reflection on what Crowley would have been

It's partly the reason why I can say human feelings Crowley is an incredibly empathic character with sincerity. More empathic than Sam and Dean imo

As an unrelated bonus I love how Crowley sits in the middle seat because he wants to sit right next to Cas

Dean and him may have had a summer of bromance but it is Cas that Crowley is whipped for, whether they be allies or enemies. It's Cas Crowley still wants to engage with in some way, even when the relationship turns negative. Whereas with Dean? Crowley was like LMAO bye I deserve better. It's not me it's you

[alwaysrememberjesus]

Prayer and God’s Presence

Psalm 27:1–14. For in the day of trouble He will keep me safe in His dwelling. (v. 5)

Who do you run to when you are afraid? David spent a significant portion of his life on the run. As a young man, he fled from King Saul (1 Sam. 21:10). In later years, after his son Absalom mounted a palace coup against him (2 Sam. 15:14), he hid in the wilderness. It is unclear when David wrote Psalm 27, but it may well have been early in his life. David’s wilderness experience taught him to see God as a stronghold (v. 1). A stronghold was a place one went for protection, perhaps a mountain cave or a fortress.

It was during these wilderness times that David developed a strong personal relationship with God. David considered the Lord not only his defender but also his friend. In this Psalm David longs for the presence of the Lord. The experience of God’s presence was so important that he requests it in verse 4: “One thing I ask from the LORD, this only do I seek.” His own heart tells him to seek God’s face, and he eagerly expresses his desire to do this very thing (v. 8). David’s friendship with God enabled him to speak boldly about his fears, desires, and hopes. But it is clear from the way David alternates between speaking to himself and addressing his audience that he is not saying these things for his benefit alone. What was true for David can also be true of us.

When David speaks about seeking God’s face, he is using metaphorical language. David undoubtedly remembered that when Moses asked to see God, he was warned that no one could see God’s face and live (Ex. 33:20). What David longed for was to be in God’s presence.

Are you feeling anxious? Alone? Scared? Through the Holy Spirit, you can experience the reality of God’s presence. When we pray, we sense God’s presence in a tangible way. Romans 8:16 says, “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

LARP and the Real Girl: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I am so sorry I haven’t posted. I was sick with the flu and completely forgot about it. I will be posted both episodes now!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

"So, what's been going on with you? I see Joanna has grown."

"Yeah, she is a little over two years old. As you can see, I'm pregnant with twins. Dean and I went to Purgatory for a year. Fun stuff," you chuckle.

Dean also tells her the minor stuff like sending Sam a text message that made it seem like it was from his ex. Out of everything you told her, that seemed like the one she was most hung up on.

"You sent Sam a phantom text from his ex? Dick move, sir."

"Yeah, not my finest hour."

"Right, well, are we ready to go?"

"Just a few more minutes. My back is killing me," you sigh tiredly.

"Get up," Dean says, walking over to you.

"Did you not hear me?"

"I hear you. Get up."

You sigh again and get up, and Dean turns you around so your back is facing his front. He pulls you in closer by your hips, and before you can question what he's doing, he gently lifts your pregnant belly from below. You groan in relief and lay your head back on his shoulder.

"Please don't ever let go."

The weight of your belly isn't pulling on your back, so it feels amazing to not have to carry it. Charlie watches with a smile on her face. She can see that you two are happy. Dean stays like this for five minutes, and you nod to signal to him that you're good to go now. He kisses your cheek and gently lowers your belly.

"You need to do that more often," you chuckle.

Charlie gestures for you two to follow her, and she leaves the tent first. Before you and Dean can follow her, you stop him.

"She may be the queen here, but you're my king... every day," you grin.

"And you're my queen."

Dean kisses you for five seconds, and then you two leave the tent. Charlie waits for you patiently and leads you throughout the park they rented out. Every person you pass by bows to Charlie since she is the queen. Dean sees a wooden sword, and he switches it out for the yellow foam he took earlier.

"Have you always been into LARPing?" you ask Charlie.

"No. For role-play, I prefer a tabletop. D&D, Gamma World, Car Wars, and things like that. That's why Cthulhu invented multi-sided dice, right? But a buddy of mine was into LARPing. I went for him and stayed for the chicks." You and Dean laugh at her jokes. "It's not just that, though. It's an escape. I mean, here, I'm queen and a hero. Out there in the real world, I'm just hacking out code and chugging coffee all day long."

"Wait, you're kidding, right?" you ask and stop her. "If it wasn't for you, we would have never been able to take down Dick Roman. Out there in the real world, you are a hero."

"She's right, you know," Dean backs you up. A few more women pass by and smile at Charlie, not going unnoticed by you and Dean. "I'm noticing a lot of these maidens checking you out."

"What? I can't shut this down. It's good to be queen."

You have the picture of the black tree symbol that you're showing to everyone, but each of the four groups of people don't know what it is. The only group you haven't talked to is the Shadow Orcs. After scratching Elves off the list, you have one more group to talk to.

"You can scratch the Elves off the list," Charlie says. "That leaves one more group. The Shadow Orcs. They're impossible to find."

"Wait, I know where we can find one. We met him on the way in."

You and Dean lead Charlie to the area where Monty was stuck inside the pillory. Looks like he's still there.

"Death to the queen! Death to the usurper!" he yells when he sees Charlie.

Dean draws his wooden sword and hits Monty on top of his head to get him to stop yelling. Monty growls at Dean, but you're in no mood for games. You take the picture out of Dean's hands and show it to Monty.

"Have you seen this symbol anywhere?"

"Yeah, of course." Monty quickly shakes his head and changes his answer. "No. No, I haven't seen it." Instead of you using your very real magic on this unsuspecting man, Dean takes his sword and places it underneath Monty's chin. "Okay, it's the Shadow King's family crest. You'll never find him in the Black Hills."

"The Black Hills?" Dean asks Charlie.

"The forest behind the playground. Come on."

You and Dean leave Monty where he is, letting Charlie guide you to the forest. There isn't much to see in the forest, but it's not like you're looking too hard. You're staying on the main trail, and when you're about halfway through the forest, you come across the man who was talking to Monty earlier, Gerry.

"My queen. There you are. I've been searching everywhere for you. Has this oaf attempted to harm you with his blasphemous metalworks?"

"Boltar, they're with me. They're both my new... handmaiden. We seek an audience with the Shadow King."

"Uh, these hills are not safe. I beseech you, my queen, you should return to camp."

"He's right, your worshipfulness. Uh, may I have a moment before you take your leave?" You and Dean take Charlie off to the side to talk to her while Gerry stays where he is. "Handmaiden?"

"He was suspicious. I panicked."

"Okay, take my phone," Dean says and hands over his phone. We'll find the shadow dorks."

"I can still help, though."

"Believe it or not, you are helping by finding Sam. It's okay, we can handle this," you encourage her.

She sighs and takes the phone before leaving out of sight.

"Lead the way to the Orcs, Bolty," Dean jokes.

"Speak when spoken to, handmaiden."

You snicker but follow him in the opposite direction in which you came from.

"Should I have gone with her?" you whisper to Dean.

"No, I need you next to me."

"Always the protector, Dean."

Much like before, you stuck to the man-made trail. You didn't find anything or any Shadow Orcs lurking nearby. It looks like you're not going to find anything, so the best thing is to head abc to camp in hopes that Charlie is with Sam. Sam or Charlie haven't called, so you assume they're not in any danger.

"Well, that was a bust. Are you sure the Shadow Orcs are even out there?" Dean asks Gerry.

"For a handmaiden, you certainly ask many questions. Yes, I am positive. They're just very good at hiding themselves, but a plan has sprung to mind that will draw the Shadow King to us. We shall take the Shadow Orc held in stock and offer him up as a prisoner exchange."

"That's not a bad idea," you say.

"I shall retrieve the prisoner. You two tend to the queen's laundry and chamber pots, and then meet me back here."

Gerry leaves just as Sam shows up without Charlie.

"Nice outfit," Sam chuckles.

"He's taking this very seriously," you nod.

"Right. Well, while you two were playing dress-up, I found out that the mark--"

"Belongs to the Shadow Orcs," you and Dean finish his sentence.

"Yeah, and they're using fairy magic."

Sam shows you the pages he printed out about the black tree symbol. The symbol represents pain in the world of fairies.

"The Tree of Pain. Whoever gets marked gets ganked."

"How do we stop it?"

"Find whoever cast the spell, and take them out. No more whammy, no more marks. No more marks, no more dead bodies."

"Well, our pal Boltar the chatty is getting the Shadow Orc prisoner. We're going to do a prisoner exchange to try and draw the King out of hiding. It was my idea," Dean grins.

"Where's Charlie?" you ask.

"She was with you two."

"No, we sent her to you." Dean rolls his eyes and walks off, calling Charlie's name. "Charlie? Your highness?" He quickly checks her tent, but she's not in there either. "She has my phone. Call it."

Sam takes out his phone and calls it, but it goes straight to voicemail. She isn't answering, which means she is in danger. She would have answered if she could. You want to go out and try and find her, but Sam doesn't think that's the best idea.

"We should look for her."

"No, we should stick to the plan. If she got lost out there, she might have been taken by Shadow Orcs. They might know where she is."

You stayed where you were with Joanna while Sam and Dean checked all the tents in the surrounding area. She is nowhere to be found, and you have no leads on where she could be. You have no choice but to stick to the plan.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e12 time after time (w. robbie thompson)

flowing locks and partial chops

okay everyone, the burning question has been answered. untitled 1 and 2 made it to the new laptop. whew. unfortunately, the worst of the 3 photoshopped pictures from the other episode ended up on the fake webpage

another shoutout to the foley artists, i appreciate watching with headphones. nice nighttime outside sounds in the background here. much as i complain about the score, the other sound stuff is really good!

DEAN Don't give me that dirty-diaper look. I ain't calling you.

weird but adorable

see nicholas lea in the credits and i'm trying to remember if that's a recurring character in this show or krycek in the xfiles 🥴

SAM I can't believe I'm about to say this but I hope you're watching cartoon smut, 'cause reading Dick Roman crap over and over again is just self-punishment. DEAN It's called anime, and it's an art form.

think you mean hentai, bro

DEAN How does paper beat a rock? It's stupid.

no scissors for dean, huh (it's like the alternate timeline sam and dean where he actually tries to win?) cute how padalecki played it, showing he noticed dean was actin different

okay. cute and all but why don't they share the bedroom? being that they share a room in motels? probably would be sleeping further away than normal, really. weird.

always holding that fake brand beer like it's a product placement. hypin up the product designers that made it

SAM What, are you gonna look up more anime, or are you strictly into Dick now?

looked very pleased with himself about that joke. but then dean got to show off his new security camera finding skills so it all evens out

SAM Wait a sec. SAM takes back the laptop. DEAN You can't let me bask in the glory for one second, can you? SAM Shut up. Look.

made me laugh

plan Don't Die ✅ didn't say anything about time travel though

it is krycek! good job, brain!

the xfiles s4e8 tunguksa - nicholas lea as alex krycek

40s with eliot ness seems like it should be a cosplay dream for dean

ken doll dean back in action. what a cutie

what are the odds that the sideburns will be reach his dimples by the end of the season

sam and jody bonding is sweet. invoking my warm and fuzzy feelings about rufus too no less. i'm still bummed that ellen got swapped out for jody, but i'm coming around on her

DEAN I used to do it 'cause that's what my family did. DEAN But they just seem to keep dying. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm doing much of anything anymore. ELIOT NESS Boo-hoo. Cry me a river, ya nancy. Tell me, are all hunters as soft as you in the future? Everybody loses everybody

dean truly ready to unload on any stranger. embarrassing but also relatable. much harder to talk to people who know you. and half the show's conflict would disappear if dean could talk to sam about his feelings as freely as he does strangers :p

DEAN turns away and wipes his lips. He sees three addressed envelopes, picks them up and smiles. DEAN "Back to the Future III."

okay but we already did this in the frontierland episode with the ashes of the phoenix and samuel colt getting the address of dean's phone -_- all right, not using the postal service, but the house, good tweak at least

the way he hurled himself onto the hard floor and the sound effect they used 😂

he's so pleased :)

the old lady remembering a whole lot of very specific details about something 68 years ago. and can id dean. sammy pleased no more

no time traveling reunion escaped the clutches of death again hug? so stingy.

got me thinking about another note dean wrote sam (and thought he called him sammy so since i looked it up to confirm here it is

s5e18 point of no return

[hyperfixation-or-death]

headcanon time! >:)

Anyways what if when Sam called Bilal his best friend (when he was talking to Lieutenant Retz), what if that was. the first time he had actually verbally expressed that.

 Because, yeah, they've canonically been friends for a while, but Sam also has a theme going on of not saying things until it's too late.

 With Romane, he only verbalized his feelings for her after the whole mess with the timelines had forever changed what their relationship would have/could have been.

With Victor, he only expressed his guilt over not defending him to their parents after Victor was already deep in an emotional spiral that words alone couldn't pull him out of.

And so, what I'm currently thinking, is that Bilal definitely considers Sam to be his best friend, but just doesn't really mention it, because Sam hasn't, so he think it's just like. An unspoken thing.

Meanwhile, Sam also considers Bilal to be his best friend, but he is Very Unsure over whether that's a mutual thing, because "what if Bilal is actually closer to Romane or Victor, and I just didn't notice, or what if he just considers us all to be equally close friends, which makes sense, and now I feel bad for trying to make rankings out of it. but then again, Bilal is actually the person I'm closest to-" and he just keeps overthinking it for years.

But then he loses all three of them in an instant, and suddenly it's "why didn't I tell Romane how I felt," and "why didn't I say anything when Victor needed me to," and before he can think anything else, he has to talk to the police, and then Lieutenant Retz is asking him if he's okay, and he doesn't think before answering. Because he's not okay, and his brother is gone, and his close friend/first crush is gone, and his best friend is gone, and-

And then it hits him. Bilal is his best friend, and he never told him that. And now he might never see him again.

But he does. He reunites with Bilal, then with Romane and Victor. And even if the whole situation is complicated, having all four of them in one place brings back a sense of security that he hadn't fully realized was missing, and he lets himself think that things are somewhat fine, because he had always been good at avoiding conflict, hadn't he?

Then Victor supernaturally ages Romane's stepfather half to death, and, well. maybe he and Victor were both holding onto a bit more than he'd previously thought.

And with everything that follows, it's isn't until after the finale that he lets himself think about how he really does have a habit of leaving things unsaid, and how he needs to stop doing that. (before it's too late again, before Victor ends up hating him, before he loses his friends to some other tragedy, before he loses everything all because he couldn't spit some stupid words out in time-)

So he's like. okay. i am going to mention to Bilal that he's my best friend at the first opportunity.

What actually ends up happening, though, is that the four of them are hanging out, and Victor is going on a tangent about how, "Romane, I would die and kill for you in a heartbeat, but i don't think our friendship can survive if you don't give me the bag of chips back" except he's starting to forget about the chips in favor of going into dramatic detail about the hypothetical crimes he would commit for her.

Around the third hypothetical felony, Sam tells him that he's pretty sure they all get the point. As Romane finally hands Victor the chips with a grin, Victor makes a face at his brother, and informs him that, "you're just jealous that i'm clearly Romane's favorite."

When Romane just grins wider, and doesn't deny it, Sam gapes at her in mock outrage. "You could at least try to deny it."

Bilal, with an (obviously fake) offended expression, half-heartedly complains that they're not supposed to pick favorites.

"Mhm." Romane nods. "Bilal, remind us, who's your best friend out of the three of us?"

"Hm...point taken."

"Wait, what was her point?" Sam frowns.

Victor rolls his eyes. "The point is that you're his best friend. Which leaves me as Romane's, and vice-versa."

"Oh." And before he can stop the question with the now-obvious answer- "I'm your best friend?"

"Sam, you already knew that." There's a pause. "Wait, you did know that, right?"

"I mean, I knew you were my best friend, I didn't know I was your best friend-"

Victor hits him with a pillow. "You're making this sound more sad the longer you talk."

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but Victor just hits him in the head with the pillow again, which is basically a declaration of war.

The ensuing chaos involves human shields, accidentally spilled chips, an excessive amount of dramatically flopping over, and what he's pretty sure was Romane freezing time just to mess with them.

And Sam thinks that he's so glad that they all made it out okay, that out of every version of his life that exists, he ended up with one where the four of them still have each other.

(And that, at least, can go safely unspoken; they already know.)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

It’s here!! Not gonna lie I watched the Frontierland episode last night in preparation 😂 And I am so ready to lose myself in Western Dean Winchester. Not to mention ready to rekindle my childhood love of Spirit lol.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

Oh goodness the enemies to lovers is bubbling under the surface and I am already naming Dean and Mila's children.

This chapter really is one of the best scenes in Spirit, not to mention one of my favorite songs in that movie. "Get Off My Back" is legendary.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. "That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.” That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed. “He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

I love her already. I mean I loved her from the moment that I found out she broke that jerk's nose, but a strong defiant woman. Yes ma'am here for Mila 1000000%.

Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

He's already feeling!😏 And I really loved that he fought the smile when she spat in the Colonel's face. Because Dean is already smitten with this woman.

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

I really love this part, when Dean can sympathize with Mila and her people and why they continue to fight. It also really brings together the "realism" in this story. Especially with the "He doesn't always understand their way of doing things..." A lot of people fear what they don't understand and for Dean to have a more "open" outlook even being surrounded by people who don't is refreshing. And now Mila gets to show her all the wonderful things about her and her tribe! He's different and I love him.

I also really liked the background you gave him. His father being in the army and that being the reason why Dean joined, and I can just imagine young Dean and young Sam riding horses and breaking them out on their family farm.

Okay also the fact that Mila calls Dean "Green Eyes" had me literally screaming lol. I was like, "girl I see you and I respect you for noticing how beautiful that man's eyes are."

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Let's go PROTECTIVE DEAN ALERT!

I hope Roman falls off a watchtower and into a giant pile of poop (the size of the ones in Jurassic Park) and then dies. I mean he doesn't... because Dean destroys that man. BUT I hope that they shoveled his body away with the same shovel they use for all the horse poop. It's what the people want lol 😂

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

The descriptions of his hands made me hyperventilate. 😳 I am telling you the trope of a big strong man who has done terrible things with his hands and then is nothing, but gentle with his significant other WIPES ME OUT. Oh stars, I can't take it 😭

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

It's true love and now I'm scared of what's gonna happen to them.

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently. “Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

YOU TURNED BABY INTO A HORSE?! MASTERFUL! GENIUS! Oh my word I was not expecting that, but it made me so happy you have no idea lol.

Again, so happy Roman is gone. Man is a whole problem and Dean is a problem solver lmao 😂

Oh this chapter was absolutely wonderful and it was everything that I expected and SO SO MUCH MORE friend!❤️ Western Dean is quickly infiltrating my subconscious and someone is gonna have to raise Freud from the dead to work this one out for sure. I mean Freud's already gonna have to talk to me about Spirit, but that horse had an energy, it was voiced by Matt Damon, I was young and impressionable, and I can't be held responsible lmao lol😅 (catching myself in 4k)

I can't wait for the next chapter!!😊

The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn. 

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now. 

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.  

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

COMING 11/10! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 2 on Patreon now!

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[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 157

The Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo/The Doctor’s Wife

“The Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo”

Plot Description: an unsuspecting but hip hacker is hired by Dick Roman to break through Frank’s firewall and gain information in the Winchesters

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died

Oh. The Leviathans are doing a “fun” little eugenics project before before just turning humans into breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Well, I guess Frank IS dead. Sorry Frank.

Awww I love Charlie 💖 she and I have similar looking work desk

Dick’s EXTREMELY THINLY veiled metaphors…they’re not even metaphors. He’s explicitly saying his plans, they just sound like hyperbole

Ooooo Bobby is gonna turn vengeful but I don’t think it’s gonna be Dick

Damn near choked on my lunch when Dick told Charlie’s boss that she was in the same league as Bruce Springsteen and Eli Manning as irreplaceable people…where he is absolutely replaceable like Tim Tebow…and Joe Biden. Just DYING here

I’m trying to get a better look at Charlie’s apartment decor…just looks cool. They’re making plans to break into Dick’s office

Dammit Bobby…DAMMIT BOBBY. You can’t just hitch a ride in Charlie’s bag via flask

I know it was fine and culturally relevant at the time this came out to reference [fandom redacted], but it does sour my mood

I can’t believe the writers pretended that even just the description of Charlie’s tattoo isn’t at all sexy…

The WAY Dean is so very good at walking Charlie through flirting with men

You know that vague sense of unease you get at the end of Blink because you have no idea which statues all over the place could be Weeping Angels? I’m getting that way with every background extra for Leviathans, and like…much more than I had with any demons

Oh. Except the background extras from the private airport were actually………Sam and Dean

No, Bobby. Stay focused.

God he’s so creepy. Which is good for a billionaire who’s also a biblical monster but damn. It does seem like a fun role to get to play

Don’t put what to do about Bobby on the back burner guyssssss

“The Doctor’s Wife”

Plot Description: The Doctor is lured to a sentient asteroid outside of the Universe by a Time Lord distress signal and soon realises his TARDIS is in grave danger.

I just…why would he trust that the distress call ACTUALLY can’t from “one of the good” Time Lords??

And that’s what you get for buying that lie

OMG I FORGOT NEIL WROTE THIS ONE!!! Mr Gaiman, I’m sorry for being incredulous, but god I hope he doesn’t ever see this

“Biting’s excellent! It’s like kissing only there’s a winner.” Did he write this from/for present day tumblr??

Like…I KNOW what “the little boxes will make you angry” means but it’s another thing to HEAR all those Time Lords that got lured there

Michael Sheen as House is just…..he HAS THE RANGE, DARLING

Omggggg his sad little “don’t we all?” when Amy tells him he wants to be forgiven for what he did to Gallifrey 😭😭😭

That’s not good…

I do have a much different reaction to the reveal of how House repairs Uncle and Auntie than I probably did when I first saw this episode. I’ll hold off on whether it’s at all their fault too til later

Not saying that the Doctor isn’t right to be angry at the situation, but can Uncle and Auntie REALLY be blames?

Oh, Idris/the TARDIS is such a Gaiman character (affectionate, absolutely affectionate) from my experience with his work

Oh noooo, House just abducted Amy and Rory. That…is gonna be the worst mistake it made

OMG 💀 Uncle and Auntie are literally just like

The TARDIS calls Amy the orange girl. Cute

Wait, is…is this the one where Amy and Rory have to face all sorts of horrors in the TARDIS??

BOLD of the Doctor to look at the TARDIS junkyard and not think at all about how HIS TARDIS will feel about piecing together a new TARDIS out of parts of old ones after his reaction to the repairs on Uncle and Auntie…..just sayin

Oh. It is…I think.

She always took him where he needed to go ❤️❤️

Nooooooo. There it is, Amy and Rory got separated…again and again. I hate the pain they go through in this one. She’s done nothing wrong but he’ll yell at her because she’s made him wait again after already waiting 2000 years

Like…did he think he could JUST BUILD a TARDIS without putting the soul of a TARDIS in it??

Look. I know House is messing with them and all, but if I found out there was ANY possibility that I could believe the person I was with could loathe me so much that they’d write “KILL [NAME] DIE [NAME] HATE [NAME]” over and over and over all over the corridor where they died??? I don’t think I could so easily and so quickly run into their arms even when I found out that was an illusion. Yeah, I’d still go with them, but…..

I’m also having a different reaction to the whole the name of the TARDIS thing…

Oh it’s nice to see Nine/Ten’s control room again, at least i think that’s what it was. Feels so long ago now

“She’s the TARDIS?!” “And a woman” “did you wish really hard?” “Shut up, not like that”

There are some REALLY good lines. Great job, Neil!!“Fear me, I’ve killed hundreds of Time Lords” “Fear me, I killed them all”

She just wanted to tell him hello. She stole him away from Gallifrey seven hundred years ago and only got to say hello this once after all that time

[loomiskiller]

i don't do well when you're away.

protective prompts | accepting | @infameous

He knows how she feels. Well, he gets why she feels that way. When someone is abandoned, you always feel as though anyone else in your life is going to abandon you. He sometimes wishes Christina would have just told him from the start that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. He would have figure something out. He would have raised Sam without her help. It would have saved their daughter the heartbreak of her walking out on the both of them. The thing is. He knows where Christina is. He’s still angry about it and he still wants to hurt her for it. She wasn’t who is important right now. Sam is. Sam always is. His thumb runs over the top of her hand. “I know, Sam.” He remembers how bad her tantrums got when he had to drop her off at school or when he needed to work late and he had to leave her with his sister. She has gotten much better as she’s gotten older, but, the anxiety for her is still there.

“I could just tell him no.” Him as in Roman. He’s the one directing the newest Stab movie. He’s never been asked to personally consult on one. Not even the one that featured a version of himself in it. It felt….off. He has not spoken to Roman since he was a teenager. After the man planted the idea in his head to kill Maureen and to do his kill spree with Stu. After he caused Billy to have a psychotic break after revealing why his mother left to him. They have not been in contact since then. Gale and Dewey are supposed to consult as well, so, maybe it’s just him being paranoid. Roman knows what Billy did and that….is a problem. “Or I could get us both a room at a hotel. I book us a day or more at Universal in Hollywood when I am not consulting on set. We go to the museums and other sites to see there too. I can make it a vacation for us both. We haven’t been on one for a while.”

[jdgo51]

He Gives Beauty for Ashes

Today's inspiration comes from:

Calm Your Anxious Mind

by Carrie Marrs

"'[God will] care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes... Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness” planted by God to display his glory. They’ll rebuild the old ruins, raise a new city out of the wreckage. "'— Isaiah 61:2-4 MSG

"Stella weeps after giving birth to a baby with no heartbeat. Years later, her four children are piling on top of her, each one’s giggles louder than the next.

Sam panics when he’s diagnosed with cancer. Years later, a routine scan comes back clear as he’s training for running a marathon.

Mae is heartbroken as she watches her husband move out. Years later, their bond is the strongest it’s ever been. They write love notes to each other every day.

These are snapshots of lives that have been touched by the God of beauty, the One who gifts us with renewal and sweet surprises.

Even when things feel hopeless, He says, “This can change. You can have joy instead of mourning and praise instead of despair. You can even become like a strong oak tree, one I planted to show the world My beauty.”

It may take time, but you can count on Him to free you. Ask Him to shine a brilliant light in any dark shadows and fill you up with deep goodness and new joy.

I believe You always have more beauty to give, God.

I believe You always have more beauty to give, God.

Make Hope the New Default

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. — Romans 15:13

God wants His kids’ hearts to be joyful and peaceful. Our part is trusting. His part is empowering us to overflow with hope, which can become our default mindset.

We don’t have to amplify the negative and downplay the positive. We can choose hope instead of pessimism. We can notice and soak in God’s goodness and let His love and words of promise fill our hearts. We can respond to Him by saying, “‘My hope is in you all day long’ and at night, ‘my body also will rest in hope’” (Psalm 25:5; Acts 2:26).

In this mindset, every day is a clean slate and fresh start, full of possibilities and potential good surprises.

Henri Nouwen wrote, “Our spiritual life is a life in which we wait, actively present to the moment, expecting that new things will happen to us, new things that are far beyond our own imagination or prediction. This, indeed, is a very radical stance toward life in a world preoccupied with control.”1

Consider some new leading thoughts today: God is preparing amazing things. His abundant goodness sparks anticipation and joy.

Give me the courage and faith to make hope my default mindset. Holy Spirit, make my heart overflow with hope.

Bring on the Levity

A merry heart does good, like medicine. — Proverbs 17:22 NKJV

Laughter is the most beautiful and beneficial therapy God ever granted humanity,” said pastor Chuck Swindoll. We definitely need to put humor in our toolbelt for dealing with anxiety. It wields some heavy-duty power.

Laughter releases tension and relaxes muscles, which can last for up to forty-five minutes afterward. It boosts energy, improves immunity, reduces stress hormones, and produces endorphins, which relieves pain and stress.2 There’s no question it relaxes us. And “the calmer we are, the more we remain in a rational or positive mind.”3

Laughing about something other than our circumstances can bring us relief simply by capturing our attention. Humor can also give us a new view of our life situation; finding a way to laugh about our worries and struggles can make them seem less threatening and heavy.4 Levity does mean “lightness,” after all.5

So seek out people who will laugh with you. Get goofy with friends and family. Watch silly animals on YouTube and silly people on TV shows. Tell stories and revisit memories that make you smile. Quote funny movie lines. Be playful and quick to lighten things up. See the humor in life, and you’ll make yourself more resilient.

You are the God of joy and You want joy for me. Help me bring more humor and levity into my everyday mindset."'

Henri Nouwen, Finding My Way Home: Pathways to Life and the Spirit (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2004), 101. Lawrence Robinson, Melinda Smith, and Jeanne Segal, “Laughter Is the Best Medicine,” HelpGuide, https://www.helpguide.org/articles/mental-health/laughter-is-the-best-medicine.htm. “ANXIETY: Find the Humor, Find the Cure,” Anxiety and Depression Association of America, February 27, 2018. Robinson, Smith, and Segal, “Laughter Is the Best Medicine.” “Levity,” Dictionary.com, https://www.dictionary.com/browse/levity. Excerpted with permission from Calm Your Anxious Mind by Carrie Mars, copyright Zondervan.