#it makes so much sense now. of course sam is everything to me. i always always latch onto characters who fight who try to say fuck you i am

[sammygender]

thinking about dean growing up and putting everything before himself. hunting and his brother and his dad and his dad’s revenge quest for their mom. he doesn’t matter. he is entirely irrelevant. thinking about dean internalising this as just what you do, just how people behave and how they should behave. him viewing selfish as the worst thing you can possibly be.

then thinking about sam growing up and fighting. brave enough to challenge their father and rebel against him and voice something different, brave enough to focus on what he wants. dean seeing this and it stings - he could never do that. how is sam acting like that? he can’t believe that’s the right way to behave. so sam must be selfish, just in believing he has any right to his own life.

dean sublimates himself for the family and expects sam to do the fame, and his resentment and jealousy that sam doesn’t turns into anger and making sam out to be the mean one, the one in the wrong. and this never goes away. this is always what dean levels at sam - that he’s selfish, that in wanting to make his own choices he’s rejecting their family, rejecting dean……. awful. toxic. evil evil message to send to sam. entirely in character. dean wants to prioritise sam, would save him over the world. but he doesn’t care what sam wants.

selflessness isn’t always a charming character trait. it’s not the same thing as a generosity of spirit and it’s definitely not the same thing as being caring. sometimes selflessness just means you’re incapable of prioritising your life and incapable of understanding how anyone else could or should prioritise theirs. sometimes it means you still act selfishly, you just convince yourself you were objectively in the right, because doing something actually for yourself is unthinkable. sometimes it means you think the very act of having wants and boundaries is selfish, no matter whether they’re yours or anyone else’s.

anyway… thoughts on dean’s specific brand of awfulness regarding sam. what does it matter to him what sam actually wants? since when did it ever matter in the winchester household what anyone wanted? dean had to deal with things he didn’t want for the mission (for john). sam has to deal with things he doesn’t want for the mission (for dean). augh. the cycles

[artyandink]

that’s my man (and my woman)

Summary: Your kids are curious little buggers. Asking questions about everything and anything under the sun. So there comes the complications of when your kids ask you if you’ve fallen in love before. How will you explain everything? Time to put your imagination to use.

A/N - I’ve been putting out a lot of sexy fics recently. Why not some fluff?

Song Inspo: Style - Taylor Swift and Perfect - Ed Sheeran

It took so long just to get two human beings to eat breakfast.

“Charlie, Sam, breakfast!” You called up the stairs, sighing after you did. Your hands were on your hips in true mom fashion, and disbelief and faux-regret was your adrenaline high this time as you wondered why exactly you had kids. That you loved to death despite their poor eating schedule. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

The thundering of little feet on the stairs told you that you had two incoming hurricanes.

Your seven year old boy, Sam, and your five year old girl, Charlie, appeared at the bottom of the stairs with broad smiles, crashing into you for a bear hug that knocked the wind out of your sails. You laughed as you hugged them back, giving a few pats of their head each. “Hey, there. Ready for breakfast?”

“Is there syrup?” Charlie asked eagerly, running and hopping into a high chair, grabbing her plate of pancakes and bringing it to her with a familiar lick of her lips and happy, twitchy grin. Sam had gotten his father’s hair, while Charlie had gotten yours. But the eyes were swapped around, and it was always a point of laughing. Not one child could be more like one or the other.

Arguably, both kids had their father’s dimples and smile. So yes, he could stake his claim.

“And whipped cream?” Sam added with a toothy grin.

“Raspberries?”

“Blueberries?”

You shook your head with a chuckle; such chatterboxes. You opened the fridge and a cabinet, getting out the maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries. “Not too much, ok?” You passed the toppings to them, and with a chorused ‘yes, mom’, they proceeded to completely disregard your orders. It made you shake your head again, huffing out a breath when all sense of scolding them disappeared once you saw the golden morning light hitting their little heads as they squealed and laughed.

Kids. You loved them to bits.

“Mom,” Charlie asked through a bite of pancake and whipped cream that smeared over her mouth, “have you ever loved someone before?”

The question startled you slightly, but you grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning her lips with a soft smile as she shied away with a shriek of delight, little bunches waving about wildly. “Course I have, sweetie. But only once.”

“Ooh, tell me, tell me!” She giggled, while Sam cringed a little, muttering a small ‘gross’ that got a sharp glare and pout from Charlie. Out of care for his little sister, he shut himself up.

You took a slow breath in to give yourself time to think, leaning on the counter and putting down the paper towel. “Well, it started a long time ago. When I was twenty six, all young.”

“That’s old.” Sam wrinkled his nose in confusion. You scoffed lightly, because it damn wasn’t, but he was just a kid.

“Behave, Samuel.” You ruffled his hair with a laugh. “We met at my old job. 4th October, 2006. He had his brother with him. Now, I thought he was trouble. He had a leather jacket and one of those really fancy, loud cars and he was very popular with girls.” You reached out to tickle Charlie’s side, which had her squeaking. “But he was likeable, and charming, so I wanted to bump into him more often.”

“Was he cool?” Sam perked up, suddenly very interested. “He sounds cool.”

You pinched his chin affectionately. “The coolest. But our job was very tiring. We went through a lot of big stuff, like I told you in your bedtime stories. There would be vampires and werewolves and fairies of all kinds, but he and I would always save the day. And if we didn’t, we’d save the next day.”

“You saved the world!” Charlie exclaimed, making an aeroplane with a pancake bite on her fork. The action sent a flutter of warmth and love through your chest. For your family. Something you thought you’d never have.

You nodded, guiding the bite to her mouth gently before your hyperactive child sent the fork flying. “That’s right, gumdrop. We saved the world.” It was like telling a story, of you and your prince. “I couldn’t help but love him. He’d call me sweetheart and hold me tight. He’d look at me with a wide smile on his face, just for me. And he told me I was the one he was looking for.”

“That’s corny.” Sam piped up, but he also had a wide, goofy, dimpled grin on his face. He leaned forward. “So, where is he now? Did you two leave each other?”

“Well, he-” The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the house, followed by soft padding steps and heavier ones not so far behind.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” A familiar voice called, the deep one which always had your stomach doing flips. That you heard murmuring sweet nothings in your ear every damn day. “C’mon Miracle, stay still- attaboy. Such a good boy.”

“That would be your father.” You sighed, not in a disappointed way, but a lovesick teenager way because hearing the word ‘sweetheart’ from your husband’s mouth never got old.

Your husband. Damn, you didn’t think you’d make it to that point. Not when Chuck was still a threat. Or even that rebar that Jack saved him from.

Your kids shrieked happily and practically flew off their high chairs, sprinting towards their dad, who was busy taking off his jacket in the hallway.

Dean Winchester. All 6’ 1” of flannel and denim, but this time with burden-free smiles and lit up looks.

When he saw his two munchkins, the jacket was off in a flash and he’d bent to one knee in order to absorb the impact of two koala hugs. “Aw, hey, squirt number one and two. Hope you didn’t give your mom much trouble.”

It felt so much better than the impact of a punch. Indescribably better.

“Dad!” The two giggled at the same time, accepting two kisses on the forehead each while being smothered by their dad’s strong arms. Warm and comforting and no longer instruments of destruction.

They’d always be somewhat like that, Dean thought in the back of his mind. The seed of doubt sowing in again.

Then Dean saw you in the hallway, and his brain forgot to work, doubts forgot to sow and crept into the dark corner it came from. You, his wife (he never got tired of the way that word rolled off his tongue), Mrs Winchester, standing there all pretty looking at him with those eyes of yours that always saw through his crap and often jackassery.

Dressed up in his undershirt, your sweats with the last few winks of sleep yet to go from your eyes, but still working yourself to the bone to make sure your kids had a good meal. A far cry of the days where he’d look up, see you covered in blood that wasn’t yours, adrenaline-pumped with that sexy fire in your eyes, machete in hand instead of that ring he bought around your finger.

He preferred this look on you. It meant you were safe.

Dean watched as you gave Miracle an idle scratch before ushering the kids into the kitchen, then walking up to him and wrapping those gorgeous arms around his neck, gorgeous eyes twinkling and your gorgeous lips stretched into a smile.

The whole nine yards, apple pie and picket fence of gorgeous and it was all his. All his personal heaven.

“Mrs Winchester.” He murmured, nudging your nose with his as his arms circled your waist, drawing you in and gripping your hips with both underlying possessiveness and a tender glow in those emerald eyes. Your soul soaring and low, warm vibrations in your body increasing until it was at the frequency of his. Syncing you both.

“Mr Winchester.” You giggled softly as you let your lips meet his once, pulling back. Then you couldn’t help yourself, letting them meet in holy matrimony again. And again. And again, over and over until you were both mentally and physically restraining yourselves due to your children being in the next room.

“We have to stop.” Dean chuckled, his hand tangling in your hair as the other inched down from its place on your hip, taking yet another hit of your honeyed lips.

“We do.” You whispered back, meeting his ministrations with the slow massage of your thumb against his scalp from where your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his chest.

Over his heart.

“Hard to when y’looking so pretty, darlin’, and you know it.” He huffed, nuzzling your nose before dipping to press a slow, hot kiss to your jugular. “Wearin’ my shirt too, hardens the bargain. And these sweats, god, you know what they do for your ass.” As if to punctuate his point (and sentence), he gave a quick, firm slap to it. “Ain’t makin’ it easy for me here, baby.”

“Dean!” You squeaked, giggling. “Our kids are in the kitchen.”

“Lil’ buggers. My sex drive’s arch nemesis.” He groaned against your neck, but listened anyway, taking his hand off your ass and cupping your cheeks, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, then hairline. “C’mon.” You two made your way to the kitchen, where Miracle then padded over, rearing on his hind legs to paw at Dean’s jeans for attention. He obliged, bending down to ruffle Miracle’s golden coat.

“Hey, boy.” He whispered, fingers doing good work to give Miracle the love he was whining for. “I love you a lot, ok? But I’ve got a wife, a very sweet, very sexy…” Dean gave you a once over with a lick of his lip and a quick bite of the bottom one, “wife. And I wanna get her in bed today, so don’t ruin this one for me. All respect given. Alright?”

A small whimper of affirmation.

“Attaboy.” Dean gave Miracle a quick scratch behind the ear before straightening up.

“C’mon, mom, tell us what happened to the cool guy!” Sam insisted, which had Dean raising an eyebrow at you in question. Cool guy? Who, what, when, where, how, why?

“Yeah, the one that stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes!” Charlie added, making a heart with her tiny hands.

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter by his hip. “Oh? Who stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes, honey? Do tell.”

“First of all, I did not say that.” You chuckled, raising a finger.

“You don’t have to. It’s all here.” Charlie pointed to her own eyes with an intense stare at her finger and a cute pout. It almost had you melting. “But tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh, then took Dean’s hand and kissed the battle-scarred knuckle.

The gesture making Dean internally melt and externally making his eyes fill up with hearts and his lips twitch into a warm smile.

“I married him.” You said softly, your eyes mirroring the same look.

“Damn right.” He chuckled, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Free from the stress of an Apocalypse or a battle. That tasted like coffee and toothpaste rather than beer or whiskey and had no rush. His hand cradling your cheek while yours gently cupped the back of his head. Breathing in his body wash that wasn’t low grade anymore. You still had the unlimited credit cards, so you had more time for things like these. The little things.

You became absorbed in everything Dean, the kiss not as passionate as when he’d dipped you and took your breath away in front of a crowd of hunters on your wedding day but still had the same meaning. The whispers of the vows you two had choked out through tears. He became absorbed in you, in the sweet taste of a croissant on your tongue and your floral scent dizzying and overwhelming his senses in a good way. It was you he was feeling. It felt like you, so real, so safe. It felt like home.

“Ewwww!” You were interrupted by Sam and Charlie, and you broke apart, foreheads pressing together with a soft laugh coming from the both of you.

His hand on your waist, yours carding through his hair. Comfort, assurance, something you both had been deprived of for fifteen straight years. You wouldn’t let being Mrs Winchester go. Not now, not ever.

Mrs Winchester. Never got old.

I’d appreciate a like, comment and/or reblog! Make sure to do this for all your favourite writers so they get inspiration!

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

[thigholstercas]

So I wanted to have all these parts of scripts that I love with destiel moments that were erased, changed, or added context in one place. Bare in mind that there are some that are Production Drafts and others Writer's Drafts, and so on.

4x02 - Are you there, God? It's me, Dean Winchester

Oh honey, he's gonna be your husband

Honestly, I'm just putting this here because I love this scene.

5x04 - The End

Cas received the order to follow Dean's commands once, and he sticked to it up 'til the end of everything.

7x17 - Born again identity

Just remember, this was after everything that happened in season 6 and widow!dean arc 1.0

Forward to Cas' speech in 15x18, yes the parallels.

Swear this is a whole Dean thesis. If we go back to what started this whole thing in tmwwbk. Dean tells Cas, we can fix this. And he never stopped wanting to fix it.

8x17 - Goodby Stranger

Like, I know they established that it didn't make sense for Dean to say I love you here, which fair, and we ended up which I need you (somehow worse).

But if we look at this as a whole, what Dean might understand is that saying I love you makes people leave him. Fastforward to the part when Dean takes the sigils so Cas can find him and Naomi visits and tells him that Cas doesn't return his feelings. Fastforward again to the You didn't trust me because even if we get to know that it was hard for Cas to leave with the tablet, away from Dean, Dean doesn't. For Dean, he left him, without even acknowledging that he loves/needs him, ignored him, and didn't trust him. Imagine you say I love you and you are left feeling abandoned, betrayed, and angry.

8x19 - Taxi Driver

This in the middle of I love you, and You didn't trust me is something

8x22 - Clip show

The one guy that's always had your back.

9x22 - Stairway to Heaven

Don't know what they smoked to write this, but I want some

10x23 - Brother's Keeper

You'll see the word shattered used a lot. This very much both destiel and drowley imo.

Season 12 is weirdly filled with these, so here are special mentions (because the max of pictures is 30 and there are too many moments). Most likely, it has to do with the market research by the end of 2016, which is why from 12-15, these scenes are more emotionally charged.

Mary saying Good friend when Dean and Cas hug in 12x01

Cas told Mary I promised (Dean) when they were talking outside the barn before going in to help Dean save Sam in 12x02

Dean telling Mary Get him outta here! when Cas was wounded in 12x12. And of course, when Cas says the things they have shared changed him (but that's on screen)

Cas texts? from 12x16

Dean is a worried husband on 12x18.

Dean explaining that no matter how much Cas messed up, did the wrong thing, or every dumb move he got it in 12x20. Cas was always Cas.

12x10 - Lily Sunder has some regrets

Dean telling Cas he has changed, and it has all been for the good. Again, forward to 15x18.

12x19 - The Future

This whole episode is charged with scenes from Dean and Cas. Like you have the angry Welcome home from Dean when Cas returns from Heaven. Dean calls Cas a super strong dude in a trenchcoat. The mixtape scene with the That was a gift. To keep. And Dean softening a bit even if he's angry because he's more worried.

But I think the biggest one is this one. The destiel sex scene (jk)

And after this, even though it is said in the show. There is more insistence from Dean to not let go of Cas -> We're not gonna let you just walk away. Not again. Not happening.

12x23 - All Along the Watchtower

The word shattered is mentioned a lot in the scripts. This is every part that describes Dean's reactions after losing Cas. Forward to 15x18.

13x06 - Tombstone

This is one of the best things that never happened in the show. You have Dean choking down his emotions saying he's much better now and Cas who fought with the empty with everything he had in 13x04 to return to Dean, coming to a meadow near a windmill because Dean thought he'd like it.

13x14 - Good Intentions

Forget about the in love part. They are best friends, and we didn´t get this.

13x20 - Unfinished Business

He lost Cas and it damn near broke him. Not we lost Cas, I.

14x12 - Prophet and Loss

Losing Dean was unacceptable. Cas said that losing Dean was unacceptable. And Dean got emotional. And then forward to 15x18, Cas just goes no, Dean can't die because that'd be unacceptable to me, so i'll sacrifice. And then, Dean gets emotional. Again. But for Dean, the unacceptable happened.

15x09 - The Trap

Forward to 15x20. In this future that Chuck showed Sam that he lost Dean the second Cas was gone.

Have I said how much they used the word shattered. Anyway, Dean wanted Cas to stay. That's his best friend.

He's amazing.

15x18 - Despair

This is not that different from what it was filmed, it is just that seeing it described makes it different. Especially when you get things as Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester, Dean is emotional, stunned, shocked. And have I said how much they used the word shattered. Also, you can see how it starts as a confession because Cas is confessing that he made a deal, but then it ends as a declaration, a declaration of love. Which makes testament such a good word for it.

15x19 - Inherit the Earth

The fact that Dean couldn't say Cas was gone

He's not the ultimate killer. He's not daddy's blunt instrument. He's someone who raised his little brother for love, who fought for the world for love and the most caring man on Earth

15x20 - Carry On

We don't talk about this episode because the script has way too many [omitted] but this is exactly what happened in 15x09 when Chuck showed their future to Sam if they followed the road they were taking.

Okay, that was it. Probably missed some, but for me, these are the parts that stand out.

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

while i will always love and appreciate the bisexual dean winchester agenda, i truly believe that if he was raised differently—or maybe if he grew up today instead—that boy would have been gay. like his love for women in a romantic/sexual context was always such a caricature and was continuously used as a symbol of masculinity that played against the roles assigned to him by his father growing up for the sake of suppressing any queerness he might exhibit. now whether that suppression was purposely written into his character or was a reaction to the character they had created, i’m not sure, but it’s there regardless.

i don’t mean to dismiss the love he felt for cassie or lisa, but particularly with lisa, i’m not sure he was ever in love with her, despite the fact that he did care for both her and ben. i get so frustrated watching the end of s5 because him going to her house and his perfect “apple pie life” being with her in suburbia genuinely came out of nowhere and i’ve never understood a) why it had to happen, and b) why it had to be lisa. but thinking about it in this sense, she was the closest thing he had in his life to everything he was raised to believe he should want by one john winchester, who lost his perfect wife, perfect family, perfect apple pie life and sent all of them down this path in the first place. so of course to dean, his happy ending would be with someone like lisa. but that’s the important part. someone like lisa, not lisa herself. he may have had love for her and he may have been able to picture a life with her, but it wasn’t necessarily because she was everything he wanted; she was a symbol of the things that tore his family apart and so to be with her felt like he was finally able to put some of it back together. and that makes me so sad for him because all of that is a result of the sense of responsibility ingrained in him growing up by john, not something he wanted for himself.

but back to his general attitude towards women, there was an excellent post that said he only acts like the typical womanizer he has a reputation for being around women deemed “stereotypical” by the misogynistic perspective. otherwise, he tends to take on a fairly brotherly role; he doesn’t tend to pursue any women he can “take seriously,” and is more intimidated or impressed by them than anything else. with the exception of cassie (which was pre-series and we never got full context for in the first place), he only ever pursued women with whom he would have a definitive ending—by that i mean women who he knows he’ll never see again or who would have a clearly defined role during the time they’re together that wouldn’t threaten the status quo. and yes these could also be the traits of a commitment-phobe or someone chronically on the move, but for one, sam doesn’t tend to do the same thing (see ruby, amelia, and eileen), and for two, given the things i mentioned already, it makes me consider it more of a result of him not actually being interested in women romantically.

his reaction to women when not purposely used as the butt of a joke or to perpetuate the “womanizer dean winchester” agenda is often so innately fraternal, caring in a way that doesn’t have any expectations behind it. and when there is a romantic context, so much of the relationship can be attributed to the way john raised him and the beliefs he has as a direct result; it’s never simply been built on the foundation of love.

every time he is dismissed as this macho het guy, it also dismisses so much of what makes him a wonderful character, and yes a lot of that is his queerness. so in a world where he didn’t grow up with roles and responsibilities that shaped him into someone he knew his dad hated and forced him to create this character for himself in order to survive? i think he would have been gay and he would have been okay with that.

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

Detecto un nerviosismo muy revelador en Mordor. La finalización del rodaje abre un escenario nuevo acerca de las posibles interacciones de Sam y Cait fuera de esa burbuja de trabajo, ya sabes, solo es fan service por lo tanto nuevo tablero de juego con unas fichas que se pueden mover, hasta cierto punto porque no olvidemos que queda todo lo relacionado con la 8 y última temporada, libremente. Y hay una cosa que me intriga acerca de los planes futuros de Cait. Mordor da por hecho que va a permanecer en UK ya que esa casa que compró va a ser su residencia habitual pero las ultimas noticias de hace ya tiempo era que esa residencia estaba inhabitable y me pregunto si ese factor ya está resuelto. Por supuesto dejo en tus manos actualizar esta duda.

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Lamento mucho la respuesta tardía a tu mensaje. Como siempre, el otoño parece ser esa época del año en la que las cosas se aceleran, por algún motivo aún oscuro, hasta ese agradable paroxismo navideño. Pero, sin más dilación, traduzcamos primero lo que me enviaste:

'I'm sensing a very revealing nervousness in Mordor. The end of filming opens a new scenario regarding the possible interactions between Sam and Cait outside of that work bubble (you know, it's just fan service), and so we've got a new game board with pieces that can be moved, to a certain point, because let's not forget that everything related to the 8th and final season still remains open. And there is one thing that intrigues me about Cait's future plans. Mordor assumes that she will remain in the UK since that house she bought will be her habitual residence, but the latest news from some time ago was that that residence was uninhabitable and I wonder if that factor has already been resolved. Of course, I leave it up to you to update this doubt.'

I don't think we need to comment more on the nervousness (you're elegant, I would rather call it hysteria) across the street. If these people are so damn RIGHT about everything, how come they seem to have completely blown a fuse, five minutes after their well-oiled, mean routine came to a brutal stop? Smooth operators (remember? LOL for an entire geological age) they are not, and never were; still, it's a thing to behold, just seeing the amount of clones trying to step into my backyard. You'd never make me believe that an entire battalion of newbies suddenly follow me, with empty pages and a whole list of shipper contacts to boot. And then we have those Anons, whose dull, morose perseverance is only matched by their obsessive cruelty. Anons who, mind you, are pretty much transparent in their style, punctuation and stylistic mannerisms - all of these always betray them, and yet they keep going on and on and on. Pretty mental, if you ask me.

The dubious advantage of answering late is that now we know C was eventually (and predictably) spotted in London, at an intimate dinner hosted by Jessica McCormack, a jewelry creator and Zoë Kravitz, Lenny's daughter and an actress in her own right. No family vacay in the sun with McGill and as soon out of Scotland as S - their pundits are worthless. We could logically assume a hefty part of her life will be spent in London, where all the glitz and the glam and the networking are, rather than in rainy and industrious Glasgow. And I cannot help but wonder what do all these people make of their own relationships, and the immediate vision I have is one of a very monotonous life, eons away from all that glamorous gypsiness. Which is quite alright, if you ask me. What is ridiculous, however, is to naively assume that everyone makes the same choices as them.

But you asked me about that house and I think it's time to share with you what I can share at the moment. For obvious reasons, I have obliterated the address and kept from the single document I am about to quote (there are several more in my possession) only the essential parts. The researcher I was, once upon a time, cringes at the thought. But it's better to be safe than sorry: encouraging stalking is certainly not a responsibility I am willing to take, even if the new address is known by all the factions of this fandom and even if the documents are public, therefore usable.

For context purposes, let's just remind that C's new "residence" is a high profile carriage house built in 1841 (featuring a wine cellar!), that one can see even on Wikipedia and in all the architectural guides of the city.

As such, it is protected by the national legislation and local regulation on heritage - the Scottish competent authority being Historic Environment Scotland (https://www.historicenvironment.scot/). They have a three-tiered listing system, with more or less flexible protection criteria and regulations. C's house is an A listed property ('outstanding example of a particular period, style or building type'):

It is a criminal offence to make any alterations to an A listed building without prior proper consent, on top of all the other planning permissions applications:

Any update or repair must, therefore, be vetted by the local city council, after a rather lengthy procedure of public consultation, where anyone (NGOs, but also private persons) can send comments. Quick aside, here: why would someone as private as C buy such a prominent property, situated on top of an elevation, nonetheless? I have my own idea about it, which is easy to guess, I suppose.

The house was bought in December 2022, for a hefty amount exceeding 2 millions GBP, way above its asking price of 1.6 million GBP:

Permission for further alterations was duly sought, several times. I will just mention one of those applications, which I could almost find comical (but no, I don't, really). Let's see where this takes us.

It took the new owners almost four months to submit the first application to the City Council. You'd say the architect's office was probably busy: fair enough. But then, this lackadaisical rhythm carried on, almost as if no prior strategy to address existing problems of the property and/or maximize the profit of a very expensive acquisition had ever existed. Almost as if one of the owners, or both of them didn't really GAF about the whole affair - and it is true and readily available online, that all the applications have been managed by ahem... The Manager himself or his appointed agents. C seemingly had nothing to do with the entire process: a bit curious, don't you think?

The second application (and the one I am going to talk about, here and now) was sent for consideration in July 2023, almost seven months after the sale was concluded. Curiously still, it aimed to widen the driveway entrance and make substantial changes to the entrance of the property. Discretion be damned, of course - how odd, huh?

It was flatly refused in September 2023 by the City Council, pending three objections from a neighbor and two national and local heritage protection charities/NGOs (Architectural Heritage Society of Scotland and Friends of Glasgow West):

With a bit of patience, you can read all the documents - they are not that hard to find, after all. I will not comment further upon them, as I find the above clear and enlightening enough. There is, however, one detail that definitely made me smile, remembering what brought me here first:

This, to be exact: 'the paving of the driveway (...) could lead to potential surface water/rainfall discharge onto the public footway and carriageway'.

As compared to this (remember? LOL):

[Remember: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/720483288334090240/it-all-starts-with-a-smoke-alarm]

There seems to be something odd going on between McGill and water damage. Carelessness, perhaps? I wouldn't dare presume.

Anyways. The entire permission tango with the City Council ended early March 2024. Since then, radio silence. The Taj Mahal stands empty, with not a sign of busy kerfuffle, as far as we know. I am well aware that the owners have three more years to go until the permission would be useless and they'd have to reapply again, but given the nature of the other planned updates (vacuum glazing, anyone?), I would doubt it is okay to wait until March 2027.

I hope this answered your question and I am once more grateful for your patience, Anon Rebelde.

[caitchercatlady]

Sleeping Over at Ramshackle w/Trey

You can’t come up with any clue why Trey Clover, the Vice Housewarden of the prim and proper Heartslabyul House, is expressing his fancy to sleep over at Ramshackle dorm for the weekend. You have told him that your house is always open if Trey wants to come over, but when you tell Trey that, that happens a week ago. Seven days later, and he is taking your offer now. Of course, you don’t mind, but you have yourself baffled.

It’s a Friday afternoon. You and Grim have just arrived back at Ramshackle from class, and you immediately go about, preparing for Trey’s arrival. Grim thinks that you’re doing too much for a guy who all of the sudden wants to come over, but you don’t pay that any mind. Trey is as much of a guest as your friends when they come over to hang out. Cleaning is not much of a problem (as it’s become a common pastime for you). However, your biggest task is to organize the kitchen. Grim groans that you cleaned it yesterday, but you never know how polished it would need to be. Trey is the baker of Night Raven after all. Who knows? You guys may wanna make something. Everything must be in proper order for that.

An hour and a half passes by, and the awaited knock finally comes to the door. You’ve been scrubbing the sinks and floors for Seven knows how long, and your stomach combines excitement and nervousness into one stew. You open the door to a pleasant surprise from the Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Trey says. “I got out of club and quickly went to Sam’s to get you a visiting gift. I hope you like cookies.”

“Of course,” you reply, delighted. “I love cookies.”

“So do I!” shouts Grim in the background.

You both smirk at that.

The two of you spend the first hour of the hang out finishing your homework while dressed in comfy attire. Trey makes sense in saying that completing your work before the weekend will make your free time less stressful before the school week begins again. However, as you are trying to do the magic mathematics on your own, every few minutes, Trey side-coughs the answer for you. As helpful as it is on the hardest questions, you realize it’s more of Trey doing this for you instead of you doing things for him.

“Do you want me to make you anything?” you ask after putting your school work away.

Trey smirks. “You don’t have to do such a thing.”

“Yes, I do. I am the Prefect of this…house.”

“But we’re friends. We shouldn’t be competing like this.”

“Isn’t it custom that those of an establishment treat the guests?”

“True, but it’s a little old fashioned.” Trey pats your hand. “How about this? Let’s treat ourselves tonight. There’s a lemonade recipe I conjured up that I can teach you how to make.”

You introduce Trey to your clean kitchen, and the both of you get to work. You half some lemons, fill the pitcher with water, mix the lemon juice, but then, you add a dab or two of honey. To top it all off, Trey has chopped some strawberries into pieces and sprinkles the bits into the pitcher. Once you stir the whole thing, you have Trey’s perfect lemonade ready for everyone’s drinking pleasure.

You give a swig of the concoction first, and you find it just as delicious as Trey hopes. Grim begs to try some, and when he does, he finds the lemonade to be a little too sweet for his own good, so he bounces off. Trey and you find that hilarious. Trey suggests that he spread some of this on his own food to keep Grim away.

“I have never heard of a better idea than that,” you say.

“I do. We should brush our teeth and get ready for bed. We don’t want to stay up too late.”

Ace and Deuce have warned you about Trey’s reputation with teeth brushing, so you arrange to wash up in the bathroom first, using the “brush your teeth while you shower” technique. This should make Trey either forget or not even think for a second that you skimped out.

At Trey’s turn for showering, you realize that you gotta get some extra blankets in case he gets cold during the night. You open the closet and remember that the extras have been placed on the top shelf, a not easy place to reach. You have left your step stool downstairs as you were cleaning the kitchen hours ago, and you are not in the mood to lift the stool up a flight of stairs again. So you attempt the old fashioned “jump and pray you’ll reach” tactic.

Much to the surprise of no one, this doesn’t work.

Trey, now out of the shower, nice and clean, sees you struggle, and instead of grabbing whatever it is you need to fetch, Trey has you piggyback on him to reach the blankets. You’re thankful that Trey assists you when you want to do the task yourself, and now that you’re comfortable, you are ready to get answers.

“Why are you being so nice today?”

He perks an eyebrow. “Aren’t I always?”

“Well, yes, but for a guest in my dorm, you’ve been doing a lot to boost my spirits.”

Trey snickers. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of how exhausted you’ve been this week. Even someone as hardworking as you needs a break.”

“So you wanted to sleepover as a thank you to me?”

“That and to do things for you like you do for us here.”

Your eyes flutter with tiny tears slipping out of the ducts. “How long have you thought of doing this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Trey responds coyly. “Maybe a week…or two…or three.”

“Trey!”

“No need for hysterics. I just hope you understand my intentions now.”

You nod slowly and reassuringly. “Since you want to do things for me, I do have one more favor I’d like to ask.”

“Aim it at me, Prefect.”

“May I…” You realize as you speak that what you may ask might change things for you and Trey, but… “May I spend the night in your room instead?”

The Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden bursts into a chuckle fit. “You made it sound like I would say no.”

“Were you?”

“I thought you would never ask me. These blankets won’t do with just one person. What do you say?”

You say, “I’d be delighted.”

Trey removes his sky blue sweater and dresses you in it. He comments how much cuter you look in it, making you blush. You say that it’s time to get some shut eye, and Trey can’t agree more by wrapping you in the blankets and holding you close, so that no one will be cold that night.

[travelersspark]

IM BACK! 🌟

Literally when on break since I've been busy with college and work😅. Now I can get back into the swing of things ! Since I'm here , might as well make a new headcanons post ~♡

𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝑳𝑲 .ᐟ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝑮𝑵.ᐟ𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑶𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒔

First off. Cayde had a meeting with you at your local job. You and Cayde were close since he practically raised you along with Tessa . You were running late and Cayde was inside Optimus. Optimus had heard about you but never thought much about it.

He'd ask about you to Cayde and Cayde talked fondly of you so Optimus could sort of trust you. So could Cayde. Hence why he was gonna finally explain to you whats been going on for the past year.

Of course you are insanely confused when you get in the truck and Cayde starts being cryptic saying. “ Y/N. You know you can trust me right ? I would always tell you if somethings up.. ” -Cayde

You are dumbfounded at first while the silent drive fills the cabin with awkwardness. Then it hit you. “ Have you been looking for girls on tinder Cayde?! God I swear - ” - Y/N.

Facepalm from Cayde. Optimus almost laughed in his alt form but Cayde coughs before having to disprove your idiotic suspicion. He basically rushes an explanation of the autobots and decepticons and everything that has happened for the past year since you haven't really seen him.

Annnnnnnnndddd. Your not buying it. After the drive he tries explaining more but you brush it off basically just tired from work and chalking up his excuses to him being tired and or drunk.

Well.. until you see a group of vehicles strolling around and stopping with their headlights nearly blinding you (Kind of like the introduction the team from TF1) and with some loud noises and rumbling. You see them. Giant robots standing among you.

You Fucking FREAK. Definitely bout to be ready to throw some shit. Like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK CAYDE ! Cayde has to mostly calm you down as well as Optimus surprisingly trying as well explaining that they would never hurt you.

After a couple of minutes of losing your shit. Optimus introduced himself explain his motives and his following. Your still apprehensive but sort of star struck. Ootimus's voice and tone was totally different than his remorseful and sort of stern tone. It even surprised Cayde.

Optimus certainly finds you intriguing due to the stories Cayde told him Since you now know of thier existence they have to basically become your body guards in a sense. You don't mind it but you still have your worries. Mostly about the part with the decepticons.

He reassures that he would do anything to try and keep you and the other humans safe.

A couple of banter from the crew but with one Stern glance of Optimus they shut it.

You two might have a quite interesting partnership - in a good way.

𝑩𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒆

oh. This mute bot is EXCITED to meet you ! He was the first one to transform and show himself to you after optimus.

Kind of flustered and worried when you lost your cool about seeing them. But after he calms his excitement and lets his leader explain himself.

He flashes his sick moves which makes you smile and laugh a bit. He gladly would do it again to make you smile.

Bee is one of the first bots you considerably found yourself talking to.

When you found out he couldn't speak like the others and communicated through a radio, you though he was quite a special bot.

He's like you in a way. You to pair together so well. Bee thinks of you like his old partner Sam.

Oh. He can get protective of you. Mainly when Crosshairs or Hot Rod get a bit flirtatious or silly around you.

Casually offers a drive after a few hours of meeting which you don't really refuse. You had to admit. He was a dream ride of yours.

Its love at first sight in his eyes. He already finds himself crushing on you from day one. And he hopes that you stick around with him.

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔

God another Squishy thing?! Let's just say he wasn't amused.

Well until you basically cursed the hell out of Cayde. Now he's impressed

Now he's made it his mission to figure out what makes you tic.

Weirdly he can he either considerate or just a complete jerk. But a loveable one at that.

He finds himself always trying to be flirtatious with you. But when you do it back he gets completely flustered and curses you out (his love language according to drift)

Fights about the miniscule things with you. Like if you eat in his alt form and there's a crumb he's gonna scold you.

Never saw himself being friends with a human but he would definitely enjoy his company with you.

First meeting him he is pretty serious about not wanting you around a bit but it shifts to wanting to hang with you more.

You two are FUCKIN GREMLINS TOGETHER. yall annoy the hell out of optimus and cade at times. God you two are a mess

Starts out as not being protective of you to being ULTRA protective. Mans always worried about you but tries to play it off.

𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒅

Omg him and Bumblebee fell HARD for you when Cade introduced you to the crew. Literally he couldn't stop gawking at you.

Already trying to one up everyone else with his flirtatious and suave energy.

Placed a bet with bee to see if you'd like him more.

First to offer you rides from work, school or whatever. (He figured you showing up in his alt form would make you popular or cool. And he wasn't wrong either.)

Immediately asks Optimus to assign him as your guardian. Let me tell you, he is smitten by you and in the best way possible.

Says small pet names in french

Arrogant little bastard. Can't take any hints when you need space.

Overall hes just wanting time with you but doesn't exactly understand the idea of patience is a virtue.

𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

Another human huh. Cool, hope they useful type energy.

Hes pretty chill about it to be honest. Definitely hesitant at the idea but understand where Cade is coming from.

Would personally introduce himself to you if you find him a bit intimidated. Secretly he's a big softie and jokes terrible behind closed doors.

Once he finds out you are just as handy as Cade is hes all over you. Don't expect him.to leave you alone with random weapon scraps and ideas he has in his head.

Probably would take you out to test some grenades with him or something.

Pretty protective on first meet. Mostly since he knows he can keep you safe with his experience and skills in war.

If you don't like the sight of anything remotely similar to cigars and smoke. He would actually stop puffing his bullet in front of you out of respect.

Doesn't care much about your habits as long as you don't get your ass in trouble that is.

Not the type to drive you around since he's a big ass military vehicle and that would definitely cause alot of suspicions.

𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕

Not bothered but skeptical of your arrival. Let's just say he isn't too fond of the idea of another human around

Probably would discuss his concerns to cade and optimus about the risks but would be told that it was mostly for the best.

He gives up and pretends you just another one of the bots.

Pretty distant at first since he's still weary of you.

But if you compliment him during training of something and use the right terminology of the kata forms and martial arts he will definitely open up to you.

He appreciates someone who can understand his dedication. As well as someone educated in the sacred arts of Japanese and Chinese traditions.

Offers meditation lessons after some time if you are willing to do so.

Silent but deadly type of protective.

Has fought with crosshairs one time.when he was picking on you.

Very tsundere at first but overall he knows you are a good person and wouldn't mind getting to learn more about you

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[archivists-plus-one]

So I've had a running theory for TMAGP for a while now and I think today's episode gave me just enough to somewhat solidify it... 

(Special thanks to @clare-89 for helping out with this!)

Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol up to + including episode 19 below:

Chester - Sulphur (The Soul)

Okay so my theory is that each of the TTS Gang represent/are connected to each of the three alchemical primes, and this is what keeps FR3-D1 'balanced'. And I'm pretty sure I've connected the dots...

I think this is the most obvious of the three - he has had every single case that has been categorised as “transformation” so far, and the other cases he’s had have all related back to The Magnus Institute, been very ‘Eye’ orientated, or mentioned Hilltop Road or interdimensional travel (And the doppelganger case did say it was in Oxford…). Transformation also has a deeper meaning - in alchemy, it is believed that the human soul has the capacity to transform, and the process of doing so is very similar to what happens on an alchemist’s bench. 

Norris - Salt (The Body)

So it was while I was putting this together that I realised that Norris has actually only had four cases so far. His first one, the first case we heard in the show, was about a reanimated body which no longer talked or acted like the person it was.  If that doesn’t say it’s a body lacking a soul or a mind, I don’t know what does. The second one was the first with the infection in episode 3. This one, to me, could have been ‘The Mind’, but it is quite literally about a person losing his mind, and his body being taken over by whatever this weird plant infection is. The liminal space episode has many soulless, mindless ‘bodies’ acting as ‘NPCs’ in the services. And I think the Mr Bonzo case is quite self explanatory.

Augustus - Mercury (The Mind) 

Okay, so we have only had two Augustus cases, and at first I mostly gave him ‘Mercury’ because it was the last one and he had to fit into it somehow, but looking closer at the cases…he does. The violin case from episode 4 had a couple of instances of ‘mind control’, to a degree - The first being when the writer’s tutor is compelled to jump out of the moving carriage, and the second when the writer plays the violin and it appears to compel everybody to murder each other. The case from episode 18, with the person building a ‘house’ in their mind, is, again, also pretty self explanatory. 

But the thing that pulled this all together for me from episode 19 was actually a line from Colin:

If we are to believe that Chester is connected to sulphur, this would absolutely make sense - Sam has been becoming too obsessed with listening to Chester’s cases, particularly about The Magnus Institute, and he has been warned multiple times that it’ll “drive him mad”.

He also says that the world will end with too much mercury. Maybe this is why Augustus is only ‘allowed’ to read out a few cases? And if we’re running with the jmj theory that Augustus is Jonah….well, we’ve seen how too much of him can end the world. And Jonah did have the ability to see into people’s minds.

Another interesting thing here is that “Stasi” was the secret police agency of the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) between 1950 and 1990, and was both hated and feared. Knowing that FR3-D1 is written with German source code, I can’t help but wonder why they would have commissioned the program, and exactly why the OIAR have access to it. And exactly what really happened to Klaus…

Of course, as always, I entirely expect to be completely wrong about everything, but... What am I if not a nerd.

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (oops)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 13.5k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: poor body image, body dysmorphia, mentions of a past eating disorder, an ill parent, (this will include descriptions of struggling to breathe due to illness & mentions of an oxygen mask) drinking, cussing, Jake is jealous? 18+ ONLY: some pretty heavy making out, (but it's not with who you think it is hehe), mentions of an erection, slight nudity, mentions of being turned on. (please let me know if i missed anything. there are a few heavy topics mentioned, & the last thing i want is for anyone to begin reading without a proper warning.)

a/n: i am so sorry this chapter took so long. i truly hope you love it & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! i love hearing from you guys. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your morning drives to school are your absolute favorite part of the day. They serve as your singular moment of complete peace to counteract the chaos that can be expected once the day truly gets started. The serenity of the morning air calms your spirit and prepares you for whatever the day may bring. 

You’ve managed to find an alternate route to campus, one that keeps you far away from the heavy morning traffic. It adds nearly twenty minutes to your journey, but the cost of waking a little earlier each day is worth the promise of a few spare moments of quiet solitude.

The new path you’ve found leads you straight to school, and the best part– it’s an image right out of a fairy-tale. 

Trees line the unpaved road, their leaves in early autumnal splendor. Hues of orange and red greet you in their forenoon charm, catching the rays of the waking sun as they glow in bright iridescence. 

This morning, there’s a light rain shower leaving tiny droplets on your windshield. The sun still dares to peek through the gray clouds, illuminating the glittering raindrops as they gently fall to the ground. 

You’ve yet to be met with another morning traveler since you discovered this road only days ago. It feels as though you’ve found some secret passageway— a hidden spot with no name, set aside just for you.

Pure tranquility washes over your body as your foot rests on the gas pedal. 

It’s the moments like these that remind you of the beauty that still exists around you— that no matter what downfall you suffer, the earth will always be there to offer you her tiny bits of wonder to keep your feet planted firmly against her soil.

Your Firebird putters into the university parking lot, amongst the slew of shining, new vehicles with hardly an imperfection to be seen on any of them. You used to be embarrassed of your old clunker, but as time goes on you’ve learned to be grateful for it and all the places it has taken you. 

Your new staff parking spot is awaiting you, of which you are entirely grateful. After your first day, you found that the parking lots fill up rather quickly with commuter students, so having a designated spot just for you everyday has saved you a lot of grief in the mornings. Yet another wonderful perk of being an employee of the university.

The smell of roasting espresso penetrates your senses as you waltz through the doors of the campus coffee shop. You and Natalia had agreed to meet this morning before your classes to study a bit for your course on influential women in literature.

Carmen, your favorite barista greets you as you walk up to the counter. Her sincere smile is always such a pleasant addition to your mornings.

She’s the most lovely vision; her loose curls always tied in a perfect ponytail, her bangs framing the contours of her face beautifully. Her black browline glasses sitting atop her freckled nose that push up past her eyebrows when she smiles, showcasing her sweet dimples.

You’ve made the coffee shop part of your morning routine everyday, so you’re not surprised when she knows your order without you having to say anything more than “Good morning, friend!”

“Large cold brew with oat milk and extra vanilla?” she asks, already writing it on the cup with a Sharpie. 

You smile broadly. “You’re amazing, Carmen!” You hand her a ten and a five, insisting that she keep the change. She fights you a bit but realizes she’s already lost the battle.

She hands you your drink and you thank her, telling her you’ll see her tomorrow at the same time.

You choose a table close to a window so as to have a view of the gloomy, morning sky. 

Watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window seal, leaving their trail as the others merge to quickly join behind them— it gives you a sense of nostalgia that takes you back to a time when things were simply…easier. 

One thing about growing up in Oklahoma— it was always raining. And much to your mom’s discontent, you were sure to be found outside right in the middle of it. 

It probably explains why you were almost always sick as a child. Frequent head colds were the norm for you. It never stopped you, though. The rain brought forth a sense of clarity for you—feeling the cold drops hitting your face was the mental reset your mind needed, and it still is to this day.

You’d always been fascinated with weather— but specifically the rain. A poem you’d fawned over in your childhood spoke of rain carrying the ghosts of the past— a sentiment you’ve held onto dearly ever since. 

That very poem is the reason you love literature. It’s the reason you’re here, to study the thing that brings you the most comfort. 

Each time it rains, you’re flooded with lovely memories…memories of the ghosts that still linger from your youth.

This is the first rain shower you’ve experienced thus far in your new home; it feels as though the earth is trying to tell you it’ll all be just fine. She’s telling you that you do belong here, that you’re right where you need to be. 

“Daydreaming much?” Natalia pulls out the chair opposite of you, sitting her usual hazelnut latte down as she takes her seat.

“Guess you could say that,” you say through a smile. “I just adore the rain.”

You each pull out your laptops and Charlotte Brontë books, catching up on your weekends with one another.

“You’ll never believe what I agreed to on Friday,” you say.

She looks at you with a smirk splayed across her glossed lips, her rose colored cheeks still wet from having just walked through the rain. 

To your surprise, she asks, “Does it have anything to do with a little medieval film project?”

“How in the hell do you know about that?” 

“My brother,” she responds. “He’s helping Josh with it. Doing set designs, costuming— it’s quite impressive, honestly. Those costumes are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and I’ve done theatre my entire life.” She blows air on her coffee to cool it down a bit before taking a sip, wincing from the heat as she pulls the cup away from her lips. “I knew they were searching high and low for a Guiniverre— guess I should’ve known it’d be you.” Her long, butterfly lashes flutter with a wink as she giggles.

You’re not entirely sure what to make of her last statement. You just chose to ignore it.

“He said it’ll be killing two birds with one stone— that we’ll be helping out his brother for his film class, while also having something for our project in Movack’s class.” You pause to take a deep breath, “But I am no actress. And if it’s all truly that impressive, I may prove to be a bit of a disappointment.” Your hands fall into your lap as you stare down at yourself— your body comfortably covered with your usual oversized sweater and leggings, feeling a rush of insecurities as you imagine yourself being filmed. “I’m more of a behind-the-camera type of gal, anyways.” 

You’ve fought this inner battle for as long as you can fathom— your appearance is a topic you tend to avoid. You hide behind people for photos, or offer to be the one taking them to get out of being in it altogether.

Disordered eating had been a side effect of the severe dysmorphic thoughts. But thankfully, after years of receiving help, you’re finally in a stable place in your recovery.

The thing that still lingers, though; the harsh way in which you view yourself. Specifically, your appearance. 

“You said you’ve done theatre your whole life— why aren’t you playing Guiniverre?” you ask her. “I can’t imagine they haven’t thought of you.” 

Natalia is far more fitting for this film. She carries the beauty required to take on such a role; the beauty of a lust worthy queen. Just as well, she clearly has the experience you so greatly lack. 

She scoffs as she sets down her coffee and crosses her arms. “I was not about to kiss Sam. Nope. No way. That boy is a pain in my entire ass.”

Sam?… Kissing? 

This is the first you’ve heard of any of this. 

“Wait— what?” Your reaction seems to have caught her by surprise. Her eyes become wide and her lips part as she takes in your obvious confusion. 

“Jake…didn’t tell you about that? Did he tell you anything?” She leans in closer to you, a slight look of irritation present in her honey eyes. 

“He only gave me a vague synopsis— just about the infidelity in Arthur and Guinevere's marriage.” 

You suddenly come to a harsh realization that you hadn’t even thought about until now. 

Adultery and infidelity— forbidden romance. An entire film all about said romance, of which you are a main component. Of course there will be kissing in this film, perhaps even more. 

Your stomach drops at the prospect, and you're silently cursing Jake for leaving this little tidbit out.

Of course, it isn’t entirely his fault. You should’ve guessed when he told you the focus of the film.

You’ve already agreed, and backing out now would mean you’re back to square one with a project for Movacks class. 

All you can do now— beg to be anyone but Guiniverre. 

“First off,” you question, “who on earth is Sam?”

“Sammy? He’s their baby brother. He also takes classes here— well, when he decides to show up, that is. He lives with the twins.”

You pick up your coffee, taking a large gulp to keep the caffeine running through your system. “And why do I have to kiss him again?” 

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” she says, huffing a laugh under her breath. “Josh has…plans.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, having a pretty good inclination about what these plans entail. You nod your head to let her know to continue.

“There will be a few…intimate scenes, between you and Sam. He’ll be playing the knight of romance and chivalry himself, our beloved Sir Lancelot.” She follows suit in taking a few swigs of her coffee now that it's cooled down a bit. “You and Sam will really get to know each other. And from what I’ve gathered about this film, the emphasis will be on Guin and Lance’s love. Arthur will have a different love interest— I think they’ve already casted her? Anyways, I doubt you and Jake will have many, if any, scenes together. At least no saucy ones. Which I’m sure you’re glad to hear.” 

You were not prepared in the slightest for intimacy. Intimacy in front of a camera— with someone you don’t know, all for the sake of someone you hardly know. Someone who’s been a massive dick to you, no less. 

But her last statement— about not having any special scenes with Jake. She’s right, mostly. It would be incredibly uncomfortable to have any scenes like that with him…right? 

But, if you're being fully honest, a small part of you is a bit…disappointed. 

You shove that thought down fast. “Uh, yeah. I’m more than thrilled to hear that. That would be awkward as fuck.” You’re doing your best to be sure she doesn’t see right through you. 

“But seriously, y/n. Those costumes…” She smiles widely, shaking her head back and forth. “ My brother did a great job finding those. They’re going to accentuate you in all the right ways.”

That is exactly what you’re afraid of. 

With your elbows on the table, you throw your face into your open palms with such force that you nearly knock your cold brew to the floor.

“Nat, I– I don’t think I can do this.”

She lightly takes your wrist in her hand, jolting you a little so you’ll lift your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just acting, love. It’s not that serious, I promise.” Her voice is so sweet and gentle, her eyes have softened and are full of quiet concern.

“I know it’s not that serious,” Out of instinct, you pull your sleeves over your hands and take your hair out from behind your ears, hiding yourself as best as you can. “I just don’t like…this,” Your hands motion to your body covered with the security of your baggy clothes. “I’ve never liked this. I mean, just how much will these costumes… accentuate me?” The thought of baring yourself even in the slightest has your stomach tumbling with somersaults. 

“Listen— I know Josh, and he will never let you do something you’re not comfortable with,” she assures, her honest smile making an appearance. “His mind is wide open and his soul is in all the right places. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell him and he’ll fix it.”

You’re racking your brain with the thought of his twin being as wonderful as she described. How could someone who shares the same DNA profile with Jake truly be that amazing?

“And stop worrying about the costumes. I can promise you, y/n, you will look sexy as hell.”

She’s doing her best to reassure you— though it’s not totally working, you act as though it is to change the subject and get started on your studies.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You frustratedly close the lid to your laptop after having nearly failed your quiz. You had set aside plenty of time this weekend to study, but with how distracted you are right now from your conversation with Natalia this morning, all the time in the world for studying wouldn’t have mattered.

And of course, it’s Movack’s class— the one you most want to excel in, the one you share with Jake. 

He closes his laptop only seconds after you. 

It’s not a fucking race, Jake.

Movack stated at the beginning of class that once you finish your quiz, you’re free to leave. You quickly pack up your things, trying to make a hasty escape before Jake to avoid any possible conversation with him. 

You’re halfway down the hall and as you’re about to turn the corner to safety, you hear, “Hey, y/n! I need to ask you something.”

Fucking hell.

You pause for a moment, dramatically rolling your eyes before you turn around to see Jake walking towards you.

He takes his sunglasses off and places them in the breast pocket of his shirt. He makes eye contact with you, a rarity for him, before he asks “Are you free on Saturday afternoon? Around 4:30?”

…what?

That is the very last thing you’d ever expect to come from his lips. 

His gaze has yet to break as he awaits your response. His deep set amber eyes are piercing right into yours. He has an almost desperate look about him— as if he’s anxious for you to reply.

Is he…asking you out? 

Your intuition tells you there’s no way, but…why else would he be asking you this?

Suddenly, your body begins to tingle. The butterflies in your tummy begin swarming. 

You don’t know what changed— perhaps agreeing to the film? Maybe he’s finally seeing you as more than a scholarly competition, maybe he’s finally seeing you. Whatever it may be, you’re not questioning it any longer. 

You’ve decided you’re completely infatuated with him, and getting to know him even better outside of this classroom sounds…wonderful.  

“Y-yeah! I don’t have anything going on. I’m totally free!” With a full toothed grin on display and perhaps a bit too much eagerness, you follow with, “Why? What did you have in mind?”

His brows then become furrowed, his slight look of desperation transforming into one that says he’s now… confused. 

“Um… okay,” His voice sounds unsure, his inflection coming off as more of a question than a statement. “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through of some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

Oh. My. God. 

You’re mentally smacking yourself across the forehead. You want to crawl inside the deepest fucking hole on this planet and stay there with your shame. 

What is wrong with you? It’s as though you’ve completely forgotten you have a project to do with him— that that would be the only logical reason he’d ask if you were free. Obviously.

That’s why he looked desperate. Not because he wanted you to agree to some date— because he needs your help with this stupid fucking project you regretfully agreed to.

Your face (noticeably, you're sure) drops. You’re so humiliated at your response. No wonder he looked so damned confused. 

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” You revert back to your initial irritated tone, refusing to look him in the eye now, hoping that he’ll somehow forget you were any other way. 

“He also needs you to try on the costumes, too. Make sure they’re the right size.”

The costumes. 

This couldn’t get any fucking worse. But you can’t turn him down now, given you were so quick to tell him you’re free on Saturday. 

You simply say “okay,” as you nod your head in agreement.

He takes out his notebook, writing down his address before ripping the sheet of paper out and handing it to you.

You tuck it away in your bag, bidding him a quick adieu before turning to walk far away from him.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Not out of sadness, but out of mortification. Out of irritation.

Irritation with yourself, with him. And it’s not even his fault. You’re the one that jumped to ridiculous conclusions— jumped the highest you possibly could.

You feel utterly stupid. 

So fucking stupid.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your mom looks at you in shock as you walk inside your apartment. Ridding yourself of your bags with a swift toss to the floor, you slump down next to her on the couch.

“What are you doing home so early? I thought you had class until later this afternoon,” she probed.

“Just a little tired,” you say. “Thought I’d give myself some time to rest before work.”

“This isn’t like you, y/n. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

She’s right— this isn’t like you. You normally wouldn’t even think of skipping class, your education being the most important thing to you. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it today.

“Kind of a long day, I guess. And I’m a little stressed out with my classes.”

She then turns the television off and glares at you with the eyes of a worried mother.

“Talk to me, y/n. I know there’s more.” 

You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from her. She knows you too damn well.

You can’t hold it back any longer as you begin to spill it all. 

“It’s… stupid Jake. I thought he was asking me out today, but he most definitely was not. And I made an idiot out of myself because I misunderstood and—”

She stops you mid sentence, “And who is Jake?” she questions. 

You haven’t told her a single thing about him, about your project, anything. It’s not that you were trying to hide it from her, you just really didn’t want to talk about it.  

With a heavy sigh, you say, “He’s my partner for this huge semester project in my King Arthur class. We’re doing an Arthurian film with his brother,” you put a palm to your face. Looking up at her with a sarcastic smile, you add. “Oh, and Jake is a major dick.”

“Do you like him?” she asks with a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“Absolutely not!” you exclaim— rather loudly, at that. 

Even you don’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, so why would she?

She just chuckles at your response, knowing better than that but deciding to not ask you about it any further, switching the topic to your project. “Tell me about this film you're doing,” she says.

“You won’t believe this but, I’m actually acting in it.”

“You? Acting? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she jokes, forcing a smile out of you.  

“Just wait. It gets better,” you say. “I’m actually playing Guiniverre and Jake will be Arthur. It’s all about their adulterous marriage, and the focus will be on them cheating on each other. Quite romantic, huh?” 

She begins to laugh again, trying not to wear out her weak lungs, but it doesn’t work. She gets caught up in a huge coughing fit, struggling to catch her breath. 

This always happens; she can’t even laugh without her lungs giving her trouble. It shatters your heart. She’s always had the most contagious, obnoxious laugh. You miss the pure, unpunctured sound of it so much. 

You reach for her oxygen mask and gently place it over her mouth. “Just breathe, mom. It’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe for me, in and out…”

As much as it scares you whenever this happens, it scares her even more. The look in her eyes makes you want to cry. It’s a look that says “please make this stop.” 

You wish more than anything that you could.

It’s the moments like these that you want to curse your dad for leaving, for leaving his wife of almost twenty years like this.

She begins to calm down, her breathing slowing as she’s able to take full breaths again. 

“You okay?” you ask.

She moves your hand and lifts the mask from her face. “Just fine, sweetie. Sorry about that.” Her voice sounds so frail, like she’s just run a marathon. 

“Don’t apologize, Mom,” you lay a hand on your skinny thigh, squeezing reassuringly. “Please.”

She nods, then requests. “Tell me more.”

She doesn’t like to dwell on these things when they happen, so you start talking about the film and Jake some more. 

“He’s got a younger brother named Sam, who’ll be playing Lancelot. Apparently, there are a few scenes between him and I in the script that are a bit… sensual, you could say.” 

“Well, is he as cute as Jake?” she snickers.

“Mom! I never said Jake was cute.”

“Didn’t have to,” she says. “You think he is, I can tell.” Her grin says she can see right through you, and she’s not wrong. She never is. 

“I haven’t met his brother yet, so I have no idea.” 

You continue telling her more about the film, telling her about Natalia, but the conversation ends up taking a turn to being mostly (completely, actually) about Jake. 

“He’s just intimidated by you, y/n. That’s why he acts the way he does, so you don’t know his true feelings.”

You just shrug it off, knowing she’s obligated by blood to tell you that. She’s just trying to make you feel better.

“Just wait,” she says. “He’ll come around.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You look at your phone to check the time. 

3:45 am. Ugh. 

You’ve been in bed for hours desperately trying to sleep but your body just won’t relax.

You hated seeing your mom like that tonight. Watching her struggle to breathe… it's traumatizing every time it happens. And the episodes are becoming more and more frequent. 

You just want her to be healthy again. You want to be able to have a normal conversation with her without worrying about making her laugh. It’s tearing you down, watching her wither away like this. It’s not fair. 

You just wish there was more you could do. 

Along with the stress of that, you also keep hearing Jake's voice on a loop in your head; “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

“I’m only asking…”

It’s the way he said ‘only,’ as if to say ‘don’t get your hopes up, that’s not what this is.”

Him posing that question (before you knew the true intent behind it) made you realize that— as much as you wish you weren’t— you’re somehow on the cusp of having feelings for him. And your conversation with your mom made that fact even more abundantly clear. 

It’s most definitely not because of his winning personality. 

No; it’s much different than that.

He brings about an air of mystery everywhere he goes. Every step he takes adds yet another layer to your curiosity about him. 

And the way he acted when he asked you to be a part of his brother's film, how his face lit up in a whole new light. There’s a genuine man beneath his exterior— you can sense it. You just wish that were the Jake you’ve come face to face with nearly everyday since classes began a few weeks ago. That’s the side of him (if it is truly there and you’re not just making things up) that you want to discover.

He’s just… different. And you're annoyingly drawn to it. You're completely drawn to it. 

You’ve never met anyone like him— let alone anyone that looks like him. As much as you hate to admit it, he is the personification of the female gaze. And his ridiculous attire, complete with his open shirts that display his necklaces on top of his bare chest— and yes, even his sunglasses that you try (but fail) to hate— all make it incredibly difficult to not find him attractive. 

He’s beginning to consume your every thought, and you’re so mad at yourself for it. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Saturday.

You’ve spent the entire week dreading today, contemplating backing out more times than you can count. Jake has been increasingly rude to you since your encounter with him on Monday. He’s spoken one or two words to you throughout the course of the week, but that’s about it. 

Again, you're wondering why the hell you agreed to do him any favors. 

If it wasn’t for this fucking project in fucking Movack’s class…

Without the consistent convincing from Natalia, you would have backed out. No question about it.

“Just make it through Saturday, y/n,” she said. “And if you still feel this way, tell him you want to do something else for your project. He’ll have to understand.” 

You told her you’d do it, but only if she agreed to go with you. Thankfully, it didn’t take much convincing on your part and she happily accepted your terms.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You bring your fist up to knock and wait a moment; nothing. 

You feel as though you’ve given it ample time, so you knock yet again. 

Finally, the handle on the door twists and is opened by, of course, Jake. 

You embarrassingly stare a few seconds too long, not able to find words.

Unenthusiastically, he breaks the silence, “Welcome to our humble abode.”

He holds the door open as you and Natalia walk through the threshold together. Immediately upon seeing the place, you’re in a state of pure shock. 

You’re not sure what you expected of Jake's home, but a two story, industrial loft apartment— massive loft apartment— right in the heart of downtown Detroit, was most surely not the first thing on your list. Natalia told you it was nice, but you weren’t prepared for this. 

How do three college students manage to afford this? 

The ever plaguing mystery continues.

It’s like walking into a photoshoot for a prestigious interior design magazine. This place doesn’t even look real. 

Your eye is instantly caught by the decor. A tasteful mix of bohemian and modern rustic. The red brick walls lead to tall ceilings covered with exposed steel piping, adding so much unique character to the place. Trailing vines line the huge windows, casting the living room in an almost sage glow.

Jake ignores you, (shocker) as he heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “Well that’s just great,” he says, taking out a can of Miller Lite and turning to face Natalia. “The least your brother could do is restock our beer when he takes the last one.” 

She just snickers in response. 

Suddenly a loud bang comes from a room up the long staircase, followed by a pair of animated giggles.

Jake turns his head slightly in the direction of the commotion, mumbling “fucking imbeciles” quietly to himself, but loud enough that you heard it.

“What the hell was that?” Natalia asks.

“Our moronic brothers,” Jake grumbles.

Then, a man with a set of wild, messy curls on top of his head jogs down the stairs, giggling while struggling to keep his footing. 

“What were you doing up there?” Jake demands. 

“Do you really want to know?” the curly haired one says, wiping his shiny lips with the sleeve of his shirt before smoothing down his disarrayed mustache. 

“Nope. Not one fucking bit,” Jake scoffs.

Jake then nods his head in your direction, letting him know that you and Natalia have arrived.

“Well hello, my dear Natalia!” he says, pulling her into a hug. 

Then, he catches your eye.

“Ah hah!” he shouts, giving you a long look. “You must be our queen! Lovely to meet you, m’lady,” He grabs your hand and kisses it before making a dramatic display of bowing before you. “If I may be so bold, the name is Josh. Sir Josh of the Frankenmuth, Michigan sector— at your service.” 

This is Josh? The other half of Jake? 

There’s no way. Sure, they have the same face. Well, besides the addition of a mustache and goatee to Joshs, but still. Clearly they’re identical, but so starkly different from one another.

You look over to Jake, noting a slight irritated look from him. Ignoring it, you meet Josh in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You throw a little extra emphasis on ‘so’, looking at Jake once more and picking up on his eye roll— even from behind his sunglasses. 

You’re remembering your first encounter with Jake—how it was so vastly different from right now as you’re meeting his twin for the first time.

You instantly felt welcomed with Josh, while with Jake, you felt like a major inconvenience. (And admittedly, you still do.)

How can they be so different, yet look the exact same? 

He’s even dressed like the perfect contrast of Jake.

Jake is clad in his usual monochromatic look—sunglasses, black button down and all. (How many of these fucking shirts does the man own, for godsake?) 

But Josh, on the other hand— he’s wearing a stark white sweatshirt and skin tight khaki pants, pulled together aesthetically with high top tennis shoes that mimic the brightness of his top. 

They are the personification of yin and yang standing before your very eyes.

“Would you like a drink?” Josh offers. “We have beer, wine—”

Jake interrupts him, yelling, “There’s no more beer!” as he takes a long sip out of his can.

“Okay then, no beer.” Josh chuckles. “Well we have water, of course. But that’s far too boring. I'd be happy to mix you one of my world-famous cocktails if you’d like.”

“Take it from me— if you don’t want to end up sloshed, do not let him make you a cocktail.” Another man makes his way down the stairs, stopping once he gets to Josh. He towers over him, being at least six inches taller. He’s awfully handsome, with the same kind, honey toned eyes that mimic those of your lovely friend standing beside you.

“My sweet, sweet Malachi. It’s okay to just admit that I make the most pristine drinks known to man.” Josh grabs his waist and tugs him close in an embrace.

“This would be my brother,” Natalia says.

“This is y/n?” He greets you with a hug, nearly lifting you off your feet. “It’s so great to meet you! You’re so kind to help with this.”

“I’m glad to help! I’m a huge Arthurian nerd, so this is right up my alley,” you say to him. “I just hope I can do Guinevere some justice. I’ve never really acted before.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great!” Josh chimes, “If you’re ready, I’ve got one of your costumes set up in Jake's room. Last door, straight down at the very end of the hall.” 

Jake’s room?

“Okay! Sounds great. I’m really excited to see these. Nat told me they’re amazing,” you say, heading in the direction Josh told you his room is in. 

Josh watches you leave, holding his hands up in a makeshift camera. “Yep. You’re the perfect vision for our Guin. Very pretty,” He playfully nudges Jake with his elbow, “You were right, my brother.”

What does that mean?

Jake’s cheeks become encompassed in a pink hue as he chokes on the beer he’d just taken a sip of.

“Why thank you, Sir Joshua,” you say as you turn around towards him to curtesy.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You were nervous enough about being in his home, but his room? That is an entirely different story.

A person's room is the most personal, intimate space. The space that holds all their innermost secrets. Walking in feels like the ultimate intrusion.

Your stomach tightens as you turn the knob on his bedroom door.

Immediately, you're struck with the same scent he carries with him. 

His whole room smells like it— like him. 

You turn to shut the door behind you to have some privacy, catching a canvas portrait on the back depicting an iconic Edgar Allan Poe quote: “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

The room is dimly lit, with blackout curtains hanging over the windows—only a single lamp in the corner next to the bed illuminates the space. 

The walls are lined with medieval artwork. Depictions of Ophelia and The Lady of Shalott, with a few famous pieces by the great Edmund Blair Leighton that you’d recognize anywhere. And, of course, no medieval artwork collection is complete without the classic portrait of Morgan Le Fey. She’s illustrated in her quintessential colorful attire, looking as enchanting as ever. A favorite or yours.

Your curiosity is certainly piqued as you notice a few books sitting upon his bedside table. 

The Lord of the Rings series. A Tolkien fan— you’re not surprised in the least.

The Two Towers is splayed open to page 316 with the corners very gently dog eared. 

Next to the book lies an opened notebook donned with scribbled detailings of what he’d read. Little footnotes and observations, brief analyses of chapters.

A smile dares to creep across the corner of your mouth— finding it incredibly nerdy, yet all at once completely endearing that he places so much care in what he reads. 

You know next to nothing about this man, but one thing you do know— he loves literature. And you’d bet he loves it almost as much (if not slightly more) than you do. That truly says something. 

On top of the table on the opposite side of the bed sits a small record player, the record sitting under the stilled needle— Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix. 

You skim a few other album titles placed on the shelf next to it, seeing the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Janis Joplin; he’s a blues kind of guy. 

You grew up on that very same music, all thanks to your mom. She made sure you were well versed on music from a very young age. 

A dark red Gibson SG is perched on its stand right next to the table holding the record player. The scratches engraved on its body indicate heavy use— you can tell this thing is quite loved.

He’s… a guitarist? 

God. The mystery surrounding this man is never ending. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you wish you did know.  

Feeling as though you’ve explored far too much of his room, you decide to focus your attention on the garment bag laid out across the black velvet duvet across Jake’s bed.

You unzip it, your nerves exuding through your shaky hands at whatever you’ll discover inside.

You lift the dress out of the bag high above your head as the length reaches clear to the floor. 

Holy shit.

When Natalia told you these costumes were amazing, she was understating to the highest degree. 

Golden hand sewn lace embroiders the deep burgundy corset bodice. The square neckline is garnished with gold and red gems in the most intricate pattern, with the same jeweled design present on the cuffs of the long sleeves. The skirt, the same shade as the bodice, is silken and heavy and adorned with a similar gold design cascading all the way down to the hem.

Truly fit for a queen.

You can’t help but wonder where they possibly found this. It’s the most gorgeous gown you’ve ever seen— and you get to wear it. 

Undressing yourself in Jake's room feels…strange. You feel vulnerable and exposed, but the butterflies in your belly are swarming at the thought— the thought of being only in your bra and panties in Jake’s bedroom.

Taking another look at the corset, you quickly learn that a bra is simply not an option for this dress. You remove it, feeling particularly risqué now being half nude in his room.

You lay the dress on the floor and step into the skirt one foot at time, lifting it up and carefully putting your arms through the sleeves. 

You try tightening the laces of the corset, but without being able to see, it’s proving to be rather difficult. You know there’s not a chance you can get this situated yourself. 

You decide to text Natalia to come help you, but as you go to look for your phone, you remember you left it sitting on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. 

You open the door and marginally peak your head out, calling for her to come lend you a hand with the dress. 

“Sorry— should’ve warned you about that,” you hear Josh yell from across the apartment. 

“You rang?” Natalia jokes as she makes her way down the hallway to you. 

“This is fucking impossible to get on,” you huff, closing the door as she walks in the room. 

She chuckles as she shoves your hands out of the way to take over tying the corset. “You’ve really got yourself in quite the mess here.”

She sinches it as tight as it will go, forcing the breath out of your lungs in one final tug of the laces. 

“Jesus, Nat!”

“Oh you’re fine. God, you literature people are so dramatic.” 

“You’re one of us too, you know,” you quip back.

She secures the ribbon tightly with a bow before she says, “I think you’re in. Turn around, let's see what we’re working with.”

You run your hands down your torso and up to your chest, feeling the constriction present against your breasts as you turn your body to face her.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n. That’s what you’ve been hiding under those giant ass sweaters?” she marvels with arched eyebrows and wide unblinking eyes. 

You haven't seen yourself yet, and judging by how snug the top of this dress is hugging you, you’re not exactly sure you’re ready to.

Pointing to the mirror leaned against the wall, she tells you, “Get your ass over there, you have got to see this.”

Years of body dysmorphia have set you up to hate everything you put on if it isn’t something that hides you. Tight fitting garments are your worst nightmare. You feel safe in things that conceal your figure, and being in something that doesn’t do that is forcing you to come face to face with the thing that terrifies you the most. 

With a reluctant sigh, you slowly walk over to the large wooden oval floor mirror standing next to the matching dresser. 

The first thing you notice upon lifting your eyes to meet your reflection— your breasts. From feeling them moments ago, you knew they were on full display, but you didn’t realize they’d be this exposed. One slightly questionable movement, and it’s all over.

The sleeves sit off your shoulders, leaving them exposed with the rest of your chest. 

Your eyes trail down to your waist that is being held tightly by the corset, your figure finally being exposed. 

“O-oh god…” you quietly stammer. “I look…”

“Insanely hot.” Natalia interrupts. 

“…I look fucking ridiculous.” 

“What the hell are you talking about, y/n?” she demands.

“This isn’t flattering…not in the slightest.” You bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You can’t hide as easily as you would like to in this get up— and the thought of being filmed in this has your stomach in a nauseous hold. 

She walks closer to you and gently brushes your arms, motioning for you to put them down— to stop hiding.“You’ve got to be kidding me, y/n. This dress was made for you.” She adjusts your right sleeve a bit, smoothing down a few wrinkles. With a tender voice, she asks, “What could you possibly not like about this?”

“I’m not you, Nat. I can’t pull this off like you could.” 

“Do not start that shit with me, girl.” She sounds more stern this time. “Just because you don’t look like me, does not mean you aren’t fucking beautiful. If I have to spend all night convincing you that you’re gorgeous, I will.” 

Natalia is the kind of person you’ve needed in your life, your whole life. She just gets you, and she always has the right thing to say at any given moment. 

Not wanting to make this moment any more about yourself than you already have, you simply say, “Thank you, Nat.” 

You reach for a hug and she pulls you in, saying “You’re welcome. Now, get yourself out there. I can’t wait to see the look on these boys’ faces.”

Just in time, a knock sounds against the bedroom door. “Uh ladies? Time is of the essence!” Josh jokingly yells from the hallway, snapping being heard through the wall. 

You’re standing completely still, fear keeping you frozen on your feet. She notices and motions for you to move. 

“You first,” you tell her.

She playfully rolls her eyes and agrees. Opening the door, she says, “Let’s go, your highness. Your kingdom awaits your arrival.” 

You follow her down the hallway, hiking the skirt of your dress up as it’s far too long for you. You're so anxious to let Jake (and the other guys— but mostly Jake) see you like this. Petrified, really.

You’re afraid of his reaction, that it won’t be what you want it to be— that he’ll act disgusted. 

But all the same, you want him to see. Maybe this will change his mind. Maybe he’ll think you look as good as Natalia says. 

You can only hope, anyways.

Natalia pulls out all the dramatic stops to introduce you. “Gentlemen, I present to you, your queen.”  

She stands to the side as you walk forward into the living room. Josh is sitting on the couch next to Malachi, both of them with large smiles across their faces at the sight of you. They each fawn over you, telling you how immaculate you look. Josh praises Malachi over and over for managing to get them the perfect gown, “The sizing is impeccable!” he tells him. Then he winks at Natalia. “Thanks for getting her sizes for us, Natty!”

You hear them, but you’re hardly paying them any attention as you’re stuck scanning the room for Jake, but to no avail. He’s nowhere to be seen. To say the very least, you’re full of disappointment. 

“Well, fuck me,” you hear a voice say, one that you’re not quite so familiar with.

You snap your head in the direction of the voice to see a man— who looks a little like Jake?— leaning up against the floor to ceiling window in the dining room. 

“Seriously, Sam?” Natalia snaps, “Where the hell are you manners?”

Sam— the Sam. The one you’ll be sharing the screen with the most.

It makes sense why he’d be chosen to play ever-romantic Lancelot. He’s a major flirt, quite fitting for the role. And— he’s fucking beautiful. Something you were not anticipating. (And something you hadn’t even thought about, with your mind being so overloaded with thoughts of Jake.)

While he doesn’t share the same similarities with Jake as Josh does, (they’re twins, so, obviously) you most definitely can’t deny the fact that they’re brothers.

Sam is a bit taller than the twins, his body shaped completely differently to accommodate his longer frame. His facial hair is quite similar to Joshs’, with his hair more the likes of Jakes'. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl,” Sam blurts. “You sure you’re at the right place? Seems you should be galavanting in Hollywood looking like that.” 

A heat rises to your cheeks at his compliment. You’re sure your face is nearly the color of the gown you’re in. He’s awfully bold— and you kind of like it. 

His eyes stay fixed on you as he begins walking in your direction.

“I take it you’re y/n?” he asks, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a quick peck. “I’d say Jake made a good choice for our queen.” He looks into your eyes as he gives the back of your hand yet another kiss— this one a bit more involved. 

You smile at the feeling of his mustache ticking your hand as he grins against the skin. “Thank you, Sam. I’m quite flattered,” you say, still giggling like a fucking school girl with a brand new crush.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Nat quips with a stark roll of her eyes. 

“This…THIS!” Josh shouts as he stands from the couch, trotting over to you and Sam. “The exact chemistry I was hoping for. You two just naturally have it— you exude it.” He grabs you both by the shoulders and pulls you both into a three-way embrace. “Sam, go put on your costume. We should run through a quick scene. I just have to see how this will play out.” 

Josh is so giddy about it all that he plants a wet kiss to your cheek, saying with a sincere smile, “You really do look wonderful, you know.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

Josh led you all down a little pathway behind their apartment building that leads to a shrine of towering beautiful, old trees. The sun just barely breaks through the colorful leaves on their full branches, illuminating the mossy ground in a soft and subtle golden glow. 

His vision for this particular scene with Lancelot and Guinevere is to take place in a forest setting, a “secret hiding place tucked away in the depths of nature's wonder,” as he put it.  

You look around in awe; it’s though you’ve walked through the pages of an old story book. An enchanted forest, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the busy city. You would have never guessed this was hiding here. The perfect spot for a film– more importantly, it’s the perfect spot for lovers to enjoy their inconspicuous love affair. 

“The lighting right now is unmatched,” Josh exclaims, taking note of the time so he knows when to come out when you’re ready to actually start filming. It’s just after 5:30, and with autumn nearly in full swing, it’s right at the beginning of golden hour. With the way the trees are shading the sun, it makes for the most beautiful, soft scene— almost lucent. 

It reminds you so much of the serene road you’ve found for your morning treks to school each day. You feel the same way here as you do on that secret road; this will surely be a new favorite place of yours. 

You’ve got the script in your hands, skimming through the scene Josh has highlighted for you. 

Guinevere is sending Lancelot off to a jousting match, giving him her red scarf in secret to tie around his arm as a token. He must wear it during the game for good luck, and he’s meant to return it to her once he wins. A common medieval practice amongst lovers. 

It ends with her wrapping her arms around him, enveloping him in a “deep, heated kiss to bid a farewell,” according to the script. 

Oh god.

You read ahead a little. Apparently, this will be what gives their little love affair away. Arthur will recognize the scarf around Lancelot's arm as his wife’s, and the rest will be left to history. Angsty– wonderfully so. 

“Right here,” Josh says. “This is perfect.” 

He positions you and Sam in a spot that’s right in the middle of a circle of trees. 

Sam's skin is glowing beautifully in this light, his dark eyes now several shades lighter as the sun catches them just right. 

You can’t help but stare at him. He’s just so handsome, and he looks particularly regal in his costume. A white velvet, high collar top with white pants that are hugging him in all the right places, and a deep red cape draped over his broad shoulders— the same shade as your dress. 

Is it historically accurate? Absolutely not. But it is most definitely serving its purpose of making him appealing to the eye, or making him lust worthy— which is exactly what Malachi was going for when he chose this get up. 

His cape is meant to match your dress, symbolizing their affection for one another. 

It’s brilliant, honestly. 

Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, his perfectly round eyes meeting yours while he quietly says, “If you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t be afraid to tell me or Sam. Promise me you’ll say something.”

Sam looks at you with the same eyes as Josh, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable enough with everything before you start.

You smile at them both, patting Josh's hand that’s still resting gently on you. “I promise.”

“Okay, great. You guys ready?” Josh asks. 

“I think so,” Sam says, looking down at you with heavy eyes and a sweet smile. “You ready, y/n?”

As you’d walked the path down here, Josh mentioned that Jake left to go get more beer while you were getting dressed. And… he’s still not back yet. 

A part of you doesn’t want to do this without him here. Why? You wish you knew. It just doesn't feel right for some reason.

You look around at everyone once more to see if maybe he’s shown up and you just didn’t realize it.

You see Josh, Malachi and Natalia all standing around you— but no Jake. 

Oh well…

Matching Sam's smile, you say, “Yep. I’m ready.”

Neither of you have your lines memorized just yet, so you both read directly from the script.

Sam begins the scene:

“My love. I accept this token and will wear it as I carry you with me, that with it wrapped around my arm, so as you are wrapped even tighter around my heart.”

Then you:

“With it carries the promise you will return to me, unmarked and whole. Again will you lie with me, again will you hold me as tightly as my token holds you.”

You know Sam is acting, but the way he’s looking at you as you say your line— he looks like he’s madly in love. It’s catching you off guard, making your knees weak as your voice trembles with the next line.

“Seal your promise of returning to me with your lips, my love. Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

With that, Sam drops his script to his feet. He lifts his hands to cup your face, holding it gently as his thumbs lightly sweep across your cheekbones. Your breath hitches, and you too, drop your script. 

This… this suddenly doesn't feel like acting anymore. 

He leans in slowly, his lips just beginning to brush over yours. You grip his shoulders, leaning in the rest of the way until, finally, your lips collide with his. 

A kiss so sweet and tender. Not too deep, yet a far cry from a friendly peck. 

He pulls away from you delicately, the sound of his lips breaking from yours the only one you can hear as silence lingers in the air around you.

As you look into his eyes, you notice something different, something real. Like he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you just a short while ago. 

“Wow, y/n’s got some serious acting chops after all,” you hear Natalia say, slowly clapping.

But it’s abruptly interrupted by someone speaking.

“What— what the fuck is going on?” That voice… you know that voice without even looking away from Sam. 

Jake. He’s back. 

“Bravo, bravo!” Josh shouts while clapping his hands. “God. Beautifully done, you guys. I’d like to run through it just once more. Give me a little more passion this time.”

You finally look away from Sam, seeing Jake standing next to his twin with a bewildered look upon his face. 

In his all black outfit, he really stands out amongst everyone, amongst the golden sun rays that shine down upon him.

He’s not wearing his sunglasses, and you’re once again spellbound by his eyes. Their amber tone heightened in the light.

He just looks so fucking good. 

Sam is beautiful, but he’s just not Jake. 

“Hello? Is anyone going to fill me in on this?” Jake asks again, motioning his arms toward you and Sam.

“We’re rehearsing a scene, Jake.” Josh retorts. 

“Yeah? And what scene might that be?” Jake sounds quite unhappy, much to your confusion.

Josh picks up the script at Sam's feet, holding it open to the page you’re currently working on. “This one,” he says. “The one where she gives Lancelot her token. I wrote this weeks ago, Jake. Why are you acting like you’ve never seen it?”

Jake hastily takes the script from him and reads over the scene in question. “I swear I’ve never read this before.” He continues flipping the pages, going back and finding more scenes that will be shared between you and Sam. “Why the hell do they have so many of these scenes together? When did you decide on all of this?”

“Seriously, Jake?” Josh scoffs. “These scenes have always been there—,” he growls, using his hands to help communicate the emotions in his next words. “You clearly haven't read a word of the fucking script. Guinevere and Lancelot’s affair is the main focus, with some on Arthur’s affair with the maiden. We literally talked about this. Multiple fucking times.” 

Jake gives the script back to Josh, fiercely rubbing his chin as he does so.

“Why are you so upset, Jake?” Josh asks. 

“I’m literally not, Josh.” 

“Uh, yes you are. You only rub your chin like that when you’re pissed.” 

With a flair of his nostrils, Jake says, “Just get on with your goddamn rehearsal.”

“Just ignore them. They do this shit all the time,” Sam quietly says to you. “Ready to do this again?” he asks.

With your attention back on Sam, you smile and nod your head.

You do the scene again, much the same as you had before. But this time, with the watchful eyes of Jake, you feel a bit more… inspired. 

“Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

Sam once again takes your face in his hands, leaning in close to you. 

This time, instead of grabbing his shoulders, you opt to run your fingers through his hair. 

Locking eyes with Jake, who’s standing perfectly in your view, you lift your face to crash your lips with Sam— much harder this time. 

Josh wanted more passion, and he’s getting exactly that.

You push your tongue past Sam's plush lips, eliciting a soft grumble from deep in his throat. 

His hands suddenly move from your face to your neck, his fingertips tracing the skin while leaving goosebumps in their wake. He then reaches down to your waist, pulling you tightly against his body.

This is no Guiniverre and Lancelot sharing a secret kiss in the middle of a hidden forest; this is you and Sam enjoying the hell out of each other. 

But even as your mouth is fully enveloped with Sams, even with your tongues fighting for dominance with one another— your only thought… is Jake. Fucking Jake.

You situate your face just so, where you’re again able to look Jake in the eyes. He intensely glares as he watches you in a moment of pure desire with his brother— and he doesn’t look happy.

Incidentally, it's only adding fuel to your fire as your lips continue furiously attacking Sams. 

You wrap your hands even tighter around his soft locks as his tongue is dancing with yours. 

More beautiful, hushed moans escape Sam’s mouth straight into yours as you echo them right back to him. 

He tastes like heaven mixed with a delicious honey sweet bourbon, he’s fucking delectable. 

With a little hesitancy, (especially on Sam's part) the kiss breaks as you are forced to come back up for air. 

Sam is still holding you close, so close that you can feel his enthusiasm between your bodies that’s thankfully being covered by the skirt of your dress.

“You’ve uh, got me in a bit of a predicament here,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You look him in the eyes, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip. “I can tell. Pretty big predicament, huh.” Your new found bravery has taken even you by surprise. 

Sam just smirks at you while everyone is left stunned at your performance. 

“I… am so fucking pissed,” Josh says. 

“Why, babe?” Malachi asks him.

“Because I didn’t bring my fucking camera. You two… you two were made to do this together. I really hope you can do that again. Holy shit. Bra-fucking-vo.”

“What do you think, y/n? Think we could do that again?” Sam asks you. Although it’s clear he isn’t referring to the film. 

Looking at Jake, his jaw clenched and his fists tight, you say, “Yeah.” You tear your eyes away from Jake, looking at Josh to finish. “I think we could do that again.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

A few weeks have gone by, and most things are going very well with the production. 

Josh is a fantastic director (albeit, a little too bossy at times). Their sweet friend Daniel wound up being a great cameraman, getting shots of you that didn’t make you completely cringe at first glance. Then there was Malachi, who is consistently helpful, just like his sister. Sam, the perfect scene partner— so attentive and great at checking in with you between takes. 

And Nat, ever the loyal friend, has still been coming to rehearsals with you. She hasn’t missed a single one, and her support has meant the world to you. Each time you feel a rush of insecurity washing over you, she’s there to talk you through it and be the encouragement you need.

The only part of these rehearsals that’s getting extremely old is how much Jake inserts his “constructive creative criticism.” 

On more than one occasion, you’d shoot daggers in his direction and remind him that he’s not the director and to leave it to his brother. To which he’d respond with a scoff, palms planted, strong on his hips, and turn to leave the room in a huff. 

Then there are the arguments between the twins… which have been growing in intensity. Some days production ends because the two of them just refuse to see eye to eye, making it impossible to get through a single scene. 

You have to admit— these two are rather passionate about their work.

You just wish they’d stop arguing long enough to showcase their talents. 

The most memorable day on set as of yet was the day Jake's costume had finally arrived. 

He’d been taking far too long to get dressed in his attire, causing Josh to succumb to a near full meltdown. The sun was setting and Josh was adamant about getting at least one scene with Arthur shot outside. 

Jake, however, was extremely unhappy with the costume that was chosen for him. He refused to walk out in it, claiming it was nothing like what he had pictured for the character. “This isn’t Arthur,” he said. “This is a goddamn see-through crop top.”

And that had instantly piqued your attention. You’d walked around the corner of the hallway, Natalia leading the way. Thankfully— because she did not need to be privy to the fact that you were so curious. 

Then, you saw him. Clad in his film outfit that was a cut off chainmail top, with its short, tight sleeves putting his muscular biceps on full display. 

His pecks, (which you’ve caught yourself admiring a time or two before) looked particularly perked and rounded. 

You also loved how sheer the top was, giving you a fantastic view of his skin underneath. 

Jake clearly wasn’t happy about it, but you most definitely were. 

“Goddamn…” you whispered to yourself, watching the way his arms flexed each time he adjusted his shirt. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so fucking sexy. 

“I’m not wearing this, Josh.” Jake asserted. “Nope. This is ridiculous.”

“Yes you are, Jake. It’s only for a few scenes, then you can wear the outfit you chose.” Josh blurted. “And I told you we’d get you a black cloak to wear. Will that make you feel better?” You noted a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“Fuck no,” Jake said. “And why the hell does Sam get to have my sword for so many of his scenes?”

The argument continued on, and almost an hour later, Jake finally gave in. But, it was too late. The sun had gone down, and you were all ready to call it quits for the night. 

“Well, a fucking wasted day. Thanks an awful lot, Jake.” Josh shouted as he stomped up the stairs.

They were able to shoot that scene the very next day, and as usual, they acted as if nothing had happened. 

It’s pure whiplash with these two. One minute they’re cussing each other out, on the verge of throwing fists; the next, they’re making each other laugh so hard they’re nearly rolling on the floor. 

Outside of filming, Jake has remained stoic– ignorant to your existence. 

At school, he acts as though you don’t exist– only acknowledging you if he absolutely has to. For instance, before you can even try to get a word in before or after class, he’s already shooting up out of his seat before you have time to even think about standing up.

And similarly, at rehearsals, your conversations are limited to one or two words here and there, besides the incessant critiques he tosses around after your scenes. 

Sam, however, has given you nothing but praise after praise. His flirting hasn’t let up— and you’ve been dishing it right back any chance you get. 

You had ultimately decided if Jake wouldn't give you the time of day, you’d give it to someone who will. Who just so happens to be Sam.

Although, it lends more material for Jake’s reproval. The comments he’d make about it were aggravating at best.

“Can you show us all some fucking respect, please?”

“We’re trying to get work done.”

“Do you want us all to have failed projects because you two can’t stay fuckin’ focused?”

And, to every response, Josh shut him down, scolding him for being an asshole. 

“You’re going to chase away my muse, Jake. Please, cut the shit,” he’d roll his eyes, messing with the sides of his hair, fluffing it, cutting a glance at his twin. “I’m tired of you acting like a child. You’re the one causing us to lag with the ridiculous comments.”

The comments did distract you a little from the scenes you knew were coming up rather quickly on the filming schedule… but his remarks also added unnecessary anxiety to the overall atmosphere for you. In which case, Sam would be the one to make you feel better, bringing you right back to him.

The particular scene that’s hurtling towards you is happening later this week. You’re filming a brand new scene with Sam that will be far more intimate than anything you’ve filmed thus far. 

Josh wanted to give you time to adjust to everything and feel completely comfortable before he introduced this part of the film.

You’re still nervous about it, but your eagerness to see the film through has you ready to give it a go. 

The day before the filming of the scene, you go about things like normal. You have so much fun rehearsing with Sam; Nat and Malachi watch in awe as the scene flows flawlessly between the two of you, like it normally does. 

And today, it’s easier because Jake had been strangely absent. But, it hadn’t been better. Because no matter him being so irritating, you had sort of missed looking up at him, mid-scene with Sam. It had become oddly normal to find his eyes while meeting Sam’s lips.

After finishing a rather long rehearsal, Josh reminds you in passing that you’ll be wearing a brand new costume for tomorrow’s shoot.

And you figured today was as good a day as any to give it a peek.

Walking to Jake’s room to locate it, you sent Nat a quick text that you were heading there. She’d slipped away with Malachi to discuss costumes, but you knew if you ended up trying the costume on that you’d need her there to help (or at the very least, encourage). 

Jake’s room has become designated for your costumes, of which he has expressed ample irritation about. Just one more thing for the twins to fight about.

You’re actually starting to believe that Josh made it that way just to spite Jake. 

Once you make it there, the stark red garment bag is hanging on the closet door, awaiting you. It’s the other one that had been laid out on Jake's bed that first day you came over. 

That day had slipped away from all of you with Josh’s insistence that you and Sam re-rehearse the kiss, over and over. So, you never got the chance to try it on. 

You had hesitated looking at it since that day, though, because Nat forewarned you that this costume was much more revealing than the last, and knowing that, you haven’t really been in any hurry to try it on. 

Lifting up on your tiptoes the slightest bit, you grab the garment bag that holds the brand new, different costume that Malachi has specially picked for you.

Nat had fortunately gotten the text and had made it in time to help you remove the corset dress, carefully placing it back in its garment bag. 

Left in your black thong, lacking a bra from your prior costume, you look at the other bag, now laying on the bed. Your stomach sinks to your knees at the possibility of what’s hiding beneath the red canvas.

“Just how bad is it, Nat?” 

The anxiety you faced trying on the first dress weeks ago is now creeping its way back in. You’re scared stiff for a moment, staring down at the costume still hidden beneath the red fabric.

“You’re overthinking it, y/n,” she says. “Just open it and find out. All I can tell you is you’re going to look unreal.”

Not wanting to draw this out any longer, you start unzipping the bag, slowly revealing the black lace that was tucked away inside.

You pull on the hanger to take it out of the bag fully. 

A long black gown of intricate lace and chiffon— a lavish, luxurious piece of… lingerie. The gown exposes skin, hiding just beyond the cloth. Tight at the bust and waist, and flowing out at your hips. 

The neckline is completely open and plunges down to the waist. The mesh material decorated with an elaborate floral design— is utterly see-through. The front of the gown is held together with only a black satin ribbon tied in a bow.

“Holy shit, y/n,” she gasps, admiring every piece of your body she can see. “You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

“God, Nat…” You hold it up to your body, running your fingers over the long, bell sleeve. “I really don’t know about this.”

“Josh told you if you don’t like it, they’ll find you something else. But you should at least try it on, see what you think,” she says. 

You’re scared of putting it on and absolutely despising your body; you’ll be forced once again to face all of the things you don’t love about it— you won’t be able to hide in this. Not at all. 

But, you promised Josh and Malachi you’d try it. And Nat is right— they have assured you over and over again that if you’re not happy with something, they’ll fix it. No questions asked. Josh asks you every single day if you’re comfortable with everything, and he’s made it abundantly clear over the course of the production that you must tell him if there’s anything you don’t like.

Clearing your mind of any more thought, (because you’ll overthink yourself to the death if you don’t) you untie the sash, placing the gown over your body. 

As you suspected, there's nothing left to the imagination. 

The lace just barely covers your breasts, laying completely open down to your belly button— and you’ve suddenly become hyper aware of the fact that your nipples are peeking through the sheer fabric. 

“Please tell me they have pasties for me, because this,” you grumble, pointing to your chest, “is not going to work for me.”

Initially you’re talking about your nipples that you can see through the sheer fabric, but you figure there’s no use in hiding what’s on your chest from Nat. Something you would also like to be covered from eyes that you can’t fully trust yet. So, you lift your breast the slightest bit to also expose the red ink lying beneath the supple flesh.

Redrum, in dark red ink etched along the curve underneath your right breast. 

Your best kept secret is no longer hidden with the likes of this dress.

“Is that…. a tattoo?” 

You had decided on an impulse one night (after a few too many drinks) that you wanted a tattoo. It had been a hard week of treatments for your mom, while also simultaneously being the week that you found out about your acceptance to U of M. And you had figured you might as well do something for you— both to celebrate and distract yourself from the sad reality of your mother’s decline. 

No one knows about it (save for Natalia now). Not even your mom. It was gotten with the intent to be something special for you and only you. A part of your body that you could find comfort in despite your dislike for your build— something about yourself to be comfortable with.

And being the massive Stephen King and Kubrick fan that you are, you decided on a tattoo that solidifies your love for The Shining. Both the book and the film have carried through some incredibly tough times in your life, so you can’t really say you regret the permanent decision. But, you like that it’s something sacred for just you. 

“Yeah,” you say, tracing your finger along the flesh like you do nearly everyday. Just to ground yourself. “Important to me for several reasons. No one knows about it. You’re the first to know I have it actually.”

She nods in approval. “I’m honored,” she says, a sweet grin highlighting her features. “And I’m totally here for it.”

You really weren’t ready for everyone to see it yet, though. 

“Do you think there’s something that we could cover it up with?”

She is already walking to the door as you ask, ready to help however she can. 

“I’m going to check with Malachi,” she says, one foot out the door. Then she steps back inside the room, shutting the door to a crack before she whispers. “I won’t tell anyone about it. I’ll just say I wanna snoop through Josh’s Ben Nye.”

“You’re the best Nat,” you feel tears well in your eyes. 

You’ve never had a friend as wonderful as Natalia, and with every small thing she did to help, it solidifies how grateful you are for her. 

When the door closes behind her, you decide to bite the bullet and look at yourself once more.

Your thoughts begin to torment you, but you combat them with Natalia’s words. 

“You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

You wish so badly you could eternally shut the thoughts off long enough to see yourself the way others see you, especially in these stunning costumes that you should feel beautiful in. 

Someone as lovely as Nat— inside and out— complimenting you in the way she has, you should feel inclined to believe her; she’s not just telling you what she thinks you want to hear. She’s the most genuine person you’ve yet to meet and the last person to ever bullshit you. 

A few heavier tears have begun to form, threatening to fall at any moment as you take in your image in the mirror.

You do look beautiful.

For the first time in god knows how long, you can see your beauty reflecting back to you, effectively telling your ever intrusive thoughts to ‘fuck off’ once and for all.  And it’s not just in your body, it’s in you. The beauty within yourself that fully encompasses who you’ve grown to become as a woman.

You’ve been through some tough ass shit— had to go through things that you wish you hadn’t had to… and you’re still standing here to speak of it. That, in and of itself, is an accomplishment that shows some sort of beauty and resilience flowing from inside of you. 

It doesn’t feel right acknowledging these things. You’re not used to it. But at this moment, it feels okay. Feels good. You let yourself have it for now.

You normally wouldn’t dare be caught in something like this (let alone allow yourself to be on camera) but now, you’re actually excited. You never would have guessed you had a passion for acting, for playing a character so vastly different from who you are in real life. You’re glad to have somehow stumbled upon this whole thing; it’s helped you find the confidence in yourself that you’ve been desperately searching for your entire life. 

Moving the material covering your thighs the slightest bit, you reveal your leg, flexing it and admiring the taut flesh there. The feminine way your body is built complimenting the lean muscle that’s been built from hard work over time— working your ass off to get to where you wanted to be. Then, you poke your ass out, turning the slightest bit, you see the plush skin of your ass through the thin, dark material. You take the briefest second to appreciate the way it looks, round and full at the top of your thighs. Usually you would hate acknowledging that—hate. it.—but right now? It’s something sort of… sexy, seeing it. It’s hidden away beneath the flowing material, but wholly visible as well. 

It’s mysterious and you like it. The gown acknowledges parts of your body, without putting it on full display and it’s honestly everything you needed. It helps you to accept the curves you usually curl your lip at. 

Just then, as you stand there with your leg completely out of the slit, you hear the handle on the door turn and the door slowly creak as it’s being opened from the other side. 

Nat must’ve found the makeup for your little secret. You hold your breast in preparation to cover the ink, but don’t immediately turn around towards the door. Part of you, wanting her to see this new found confidence you’ve discovered within the confines of this gown. 

“I am so fucking glad you talked me into trying this on. I would have never if it weren’t for you— “

The sound of a throat being cleared of tension is made, interrupting you before you’re able to get the rest of your words out.

With a slight cock of your head in the direction of the door, your hair waving around your shoulders in the process, you realize… it’s not Nat standing on the threshold. 

Stunned, frozen solid in your position that exposes your leg all the way up to the round flesh of your ass peeking through, you realize that standing where Nat should be… is Jake. 

He’s as still as you, with one hand still on the doorknob and the other tightly gripping the frame on the other side. 

You half expected him to shut the door immediately upon seeing you, but he didn’t. He’s just standing there, eyes trailing your barely clothed figure. 

You should say something. You should tell him to get the fuck out and give you some privacy. But as you attempt to open your mouth to do so, nothing comes out. 

His eyes linger on your face for a time, but eventually, they start trailing from your feet, up your legs, over your hips and taut stomach. You’re hardly breathing, but your chest is still heaving short breaths… 

It becomes obvious to you that you like how his eyes feel on you. How he’s observing every inch of your body that you’re feeling brave inside for once… 

You want him to see, to see you exactly like this. 

Suddenly, your nipples harden when his dark, whiskey colored eyes (sans sunglasses, thank fucking god) find your shapely breasts outlined by the fabric just barely hiding them. The hand covering the round flesh tightens in an attempt to conceal the tattoo, but you’re longing to release the hand and show him all of you. 

But you know better. So your hand stays firm, but you let your erect nipple peek through the fingers splayed across your chest. 

You hear footsteps quickly stomping down the hall, becoming louder as they get close to Jake’s room.

“Jake! What the fuck are you doing?” Nat’s hand reaches out from nowhere, takes his arm and shoves him clear of your sight. Successfully breaking your lust ridden trance. “Give her some fucking privacy, godammit!”

And as you stood there, Nat giving Jake a piece of her mind, you can’t ignore how hot and bothered you’d become. You rub your thighs together, searching for a hint of friction from whatever had just transpired between you and Jake, longing for more of it. 

Your friend finally comes in, adamantly running her mouth about how irritated she is by Jake’s intrusion, but you don’t hear her words. 

Because you feel the complete opposite of her. In fact, you want to push her out of the room and bring Jake back to finish what had just barely begun. 

“God, he’s a fucking idiot. I’m sorry about that,” she says as she begins rubbing the stage makeup on the skin of your tattoo, you imagine briefly that her fingers are Jake’s… 

Then, feeling your nipples begin to harden from the thought, you clear your throat. Fuck. Too far.

Cover, cover, cover… 

She can’t know. 

“Damn,” you shake your head, your cheeks hot. “Why do they always keep it so cold in here?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice a shift in dynamic as she laughs.

“I know, girl,” she snorts, a curl falling in front of her eye that she blows away. The breath makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Malachi is always giving Josh shit about it.”

She finishes blending out the makeup, adding a little powder on top to set it. 

“I’d say we’ve got you pretty well covered. Take a look, tell me what you think.”

You turn back to face yourself in the mirror, and right before you’re able to look at your reflection, a picture sitting on the dresser catches your eye. 

It’s of the three brothers— Josh, Sam, and Jake… their arms around each other as they smile wide.

But you can only look at Jake’s face, his smile so beautiful and bright in the image. 

“Yeah, it looks great,” you say, eyes fixed on Jake’s handsome face, smiling back at you. “Looks really good.”

a/n: any thoughts as to why Jake is being so horrible during this film production? 🤔

buckle up, we've only just begun. ;)

if you'd like to be tagged, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. 🤍

love you all so much.

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome@heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon

I’m fairly certain I’ve included everyone but if I’ve forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

[lol-jackles]

https://www.tumblr.com/teamfreewill2pointo/750106101611151360/hi-finale-anon-here-thank-you-so-much-for-your

I’d love to get your take on this post. I don’t agree with it. Supernatural was about Sam’s hero journey which the finale completes the arc established over the 15 seasons.

Why is it difficult for people to see the basic and timeless story construct?

Supernatural is Sam Winchester's Hero Journey, it's all here in the "Hero Journey" tag. Dean Winchester is a very popular character, the awesome sauce but not the main course, which I explained in the "Support Protagonist" tag.

Link. Here I had thought Will viewed the finale through Destiel-rose-colored glasses but it turned out he was interpreting it through BiBro-stanning-lens. And Will's proof that SPN is just as much as about Dean as it is about Sam is, wait for it, "Dean was given a myth arc"', as in singular.... out of 15 seasons. Did he mean season 10? Because according to Jensen, season 10 was a “rare Dean centric storyline” and how "Dean's rarely in this position of being the focal point of the general story's motivation," (X). Is Will disregarding Jensen's own words?

Will: "you can't remove one brother without the whole thing falling apart."

True you can't remove Sam, otherwise there is no story. Once Jared planned to leave SPN, WB canceled the series. Remove Dean and with some minor tweaking, SPN will mostly still be the same (X) but it probably wouldn't have lasted 15 seasons. It would be more like Buffy with 7 seasons. (X)

Will: Sam returned to the ordinary world and got a wife and child because it did it for Dean.

Actually Dean gave his blessing and permission for Sam to return to the ordinary life he always wanted for himself. It's why season 15 clumsily shoehorned "Drag Me Away" episode just a few weeks from the finale to remind the audience that Sam wanted out of the hunting life since he was a kid. Yes Sam went to hell for Dean but it was unquestionable that Sam also did it to save the world. It set Sam apart from Dean's motive for going to hell which was only to save Sam, he didn't care about the world.

Will: "everything Sam did was for Dean".

Yes, by giving up his own desire for an ordinary life so that Dean wouldn't be alone. Sam told Charlie back in season 9 that he only stayed in the hunting life because he loved Dean. But that's not enough for AA stans and even some Bibro stans because they may have realized that Dean and the hunting world is the "belly of the beast" that every protagonist enters as part of their hero journey arc, which goes against their personal biases or agendas.

Will's Anon was only talking up to Return of the Jedi in their Star Wars analogy and Sam never became a witch and he never "used his powers". Holy smoke that was the whole point of depowering Sam after season 5 so that he doesn't end up an ex dues machina! Or am I mis-reading Will's writing and he was actually talking about Sam's power in the first 5 seasons?? Regardless, Sam is NOT a witch, what the heck is Will smoking???

Will, listen to me carefully: Luke's hero journey goal was to become a Jedi. Sam's hero journey goal was to return to the ordinary world. It was never supposed to be a one-to-one comparison, Kripke never said that.

Now we come to Will's streaming value argument by using the 2023 chart to "prove" that the Carry On finale isn't driving equal watch time for each season. How is that supposed to even make sense? Will is ignoring the very basic human nature of simply tiring out from watching so many episodes. The rate of decreasing viewership from season to season is fairly consistent. Unlike hellers, the general viewers will start with the first season and gradually peter out.

A bad series finale will kill the popularity of the show and gets memory-holed. A disappointing series finale will put a big question mark in the rewatch value. "Carry On" finale did none of this because it made narrative sense, as Jensen said when he paraphrased what Kripke told him.

See my "Carry On finale is awesome and here's bunch of reasons why" tag.

[myfairkatiecat]

LOTR Musical Chicago Experience (according to Katie)

I GOT TO SEE THE LORD OF THE RINGS MUSICAL IN CHICAGO! As promised, here’s a blog post detailing my experience, my opinions on the characters/plot portrayal, and basically everything else I’m still rotating in my brain after seeing it last night.

Audience Member Experience

After coming in off Navy Pier and into the theater (Navy Pier was cool too but that’s not why we were there), I started seeing Lord of the Rings fans. Some people even came in costume, which was fun. As we got closer to the beginning of the show, it got harder to tell cosplayers apart from actual actors cause… the actors were just there. Walking around, greeting the people, saying hello…

The show began at seven. At about 2 minutes til 7:00, they really began interacting. Our seats were on the main floor near the center, and Bilbo Baggins came out right in front of us, asking some of the people, “Who’s here for my birthday party?” we all responded enthusiastically, and then he shouted so the whole theater could hear, “WHO’S HERE FOR MY BIRTHDAY PARTY??” Then the entire theater sang the happy birthday song to Bilbo Baggins and applauded, but that wasn’t even the beginning of the show. Hobbits were walking around playing games with the audience. I heard Frodo introduce himself to some people behind us. Rosie was carrying around what I believe was a ring toss game.

At about four minutes after 7:00, the main character hobbits began to make their way from the audience and onto the stage, while ensemble members stayed throughout the audience to create the sense of really being there with them in the Shire. The Hobbits greeted each other, gave each other hugs, and everyone started playing instruments to indicate the beginning of the show.

I wouldn’t realize it until house lights finally went off, but they were still on through the whole first number! The actors looked like they were having a fantastic time. The prologue song was a rendition of the “Now and for Always” chorus sung by the hobbits, and then Bilbo said his iconic lines at his birthday party and ended up disappearing in a puff of smoke. When Bilbo said he was bequeathing everything to Frodo, this one actor far back in the audience started grumbling and telling everyone around him that was stupid, and I’m officially dubbing that guy Unidentified Sackville-Baggins Character.

After they began to tell the actual tale and Frodo’s journey began, the house lights finally turned off, and it was like, “oh, we were hanging out with hobbits in the Shire, and NOW we’re watching Frodo’s story after he leaves,” almost like we, the audience, were in the Shire the entire time.

The characters onstage played all of the music. I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel about that when I first heard about it at the watermill, but now having seen the show performed that way, it was AWESOME. It made everything feel very homey, like a story being told around a campfire, even though the effects for the epic parts were FANTASTIC (I’ll talk about that in a later part of the post).

The characters often showed the nature of their journey by trekking through the pathways in the audience. Act two began suddenly the the house lights going all the way off as Gollum suddenly appeared up in the audience, scurrying down and murmuring in the Gollum voice. (Sméagol’s actor was amazing, by the way. Amazing portrayal. 10/10.)

The audience interaction really made it feel like you were in the story, and it was absolutely so much fun. I could tell the actors agreed.

Casting and Character Portrayal

This is the casting we saw:

With the following cast update:

As you can see, Sam’s understudy played Legolas in the show I saw. He did a fantastic job. He kinda looked like a Sam to me? But that’s probably just because I saw that in the program. His acting was phenomenal and I could tell he was having a great time with the role (especially singing Lothlorien, which, of course. Singing that song is so much fun.)

The rivalry to friendship of Legolas and Gimli was portrayed fantastically. Both characterizations were spot-on and their catfighting from the very establishment of the Fellowship was very entertaining. While a lot of the show was understandably abridged from the original plot, leaving less room for a full development of the relationship, but their journey to understanding each other as friends was beautiful nonetheless, and one of the main things that stood out to me as far as the well-portrayed character development in the show.

Sam and Frodo were phenomenal. The portrayal of their relationship, the good parts and the bad parts, Frodo’s descent as the Ring affects him more and more paired with Sam’s unwavering loyalty—that was one of the things done best about the show. Sam embodied the role, and when he grunted in determination as he picked up Frodo to carry him over his shoulders, the entire audience burst into applause. It was such a wholesome moment because of how well their relationship was done.

Arwen and Aragorn’s romance was done about as well as I could have hoped for given the length of the show and how much of the rest of the plot was going on. It was sweet and given many moments, but there wasn’t tons of development there. However, it touched on the parts that were most important to the plot, and I definitely enjoyed them.

Merry and Pippin were chaotic and played amazingly. Nothing more to say there. Just. Fabulous. 🙃

Boromir!! They did my guy Boromir justice, from his initial hesitance, to the true development of why he sees the Ring as a possibility for good, to the unwavering way he cares for his people and their wellbeing, to the way his honor remained even in his worst moment… it was really good. His death scene made me cry. Aragorn holding Boromir as he died 😭 I don’t even remember their exact dialogue but I was like wow you might as well just kill me now 😢 I went from giggling at “GIVE ME THE RING wait no I didn’t mean it I’m sorry stay with me—“ (yes that was the exact wording he used) to absolutely sobbing over his death. YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT TO ME (they did it was in the books)

Galadriel… :/ okay so the actress was very talented. Like, insanely good. I just would have done Galadriel’s character differently, and I think she was done differently in other productions of this show. She was a powerhouse for sure, but her scrunched expressions on long notes and moments of growling and the way she walked were giving “sassy girlboss” which was fine but not really what I was expecting for her character. So… do with that what you will.

Arwen’s character was portrayed amazingly. She usually only showed up to be in love with Aragorn, which was unfortunate, but the way she was done by the actress was an absolute 10/10. She was so graceful and tender and strong-willed and beautiful and just. Arwen vibes.

I don’t even have anything to say about Sméagol/Gollum. Just… perfect. Amazing. I can’t even describe how well he did the character. Imagine Sméagol in your head and that’s him. The script also did justice to his internal conflict, which I appreciated so much!

Effects

They gave a strobe lights warning but they did NOT tell me they were going to be flashing lights right at my eyes ���� if you’re sensitive to lights at all, just don’t go to see it. Take care of yourself.

That said, if you can handle it, it was AWESOME. During the “you shall not pass” scene, they had a black tarp waving near the ground with projections of fire on it. It created a seriously awesome lava effect. They were also flashing white lights directly into the audience during the whole thing, which I think was purposefully disorienting while Gandalf ended up disappearing.

The Shelob scene featured an ACTUAL GIANT SPIDER ONSTAGE. I mean not a live spider, it was a puppet I guess? I have no idea how they did it. But it took up the entire stage and it was terrifying. People with arachnophobia DO NOT LOOK.

The effects were genuinely awesome the entire show. I can’t do them justice with description, but the use of their set pieces and lights and fog genuinely made for a great stage fantasy experience.

Other Stuff

The show began right before 7:00 with the interaction as I mentioned before, and bows ended at 10:15. So the actual show was 3 hours, with a fifteen minute intermission.

The adaptation of the plot was very abridged, as I may have mentioned, because of entire the run time being the length of one LOTR movie (which is already a slightly abridged LOTR adaptation). Minor plot points/middle sized plot points were diminished in favor of major plot points and character development, which I think was appropriate for the medium. You could tell where the time skips were, of course—Frodo puts on the ring in the prancing pony and suddenly he’s been stabbed by the witchking and is recovering in Rivendell. And a lot of the plot of Return of the King that didn’t involve Sam and Frodo just vanished. But again, I wasn’t expecting a fully faithful adaptation of every plot point in three hours, and I truly believe the spirit of the Lord of the Rings was captured in this production.

Some of the best and most famous quotes were done basically word for word, which I really appreciated. I did feel like I was immersed in the world of Tolkien’s books, with a dash of the Peter Jackson movies and lots of really well composed music.

If you have any specific questions about my experience at the show, certain scenes or songs, etc, send me an ask or a DM because I could absolutely continue to talk about this show. I’m in love with it and I’m so lucky that I got to see it. If any of you get the chance, I highly recommend it!

[crazyunsexycool]

The sun ☀️, the moon 🌙, and the stars ✨

Chapter 11: heat of the moment

Pairing: alpha!steve Rogers x alpha!sam Wilson x alpha!bucky Barnes x omega!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warning: smut! All the smut… I don’t think I’ve ever written so much smut for one chapter! Heat, ruts, claiming, biting, bond marks little tiny bit of insecure reader at the end. Some oral (f receiving), tiny bit of choking (you’ll see),

A/N:I’m surprised wrote this so quickly but I had been thinking about this chapter for a while. As always let me know your thoughts, I appreciate the reblogs and comments it hyped me up to write more.

Series Masterlist

“My heat?”

“Yeah sunshine. It makes sense we’ve been around each other nonstop for the last week and a half. It was bound to happen.”

“But it didn’t feel so-so bad last time.” You whined.

“Possibly because you’ve been with the three of us constantly.” Sam says. “What do you want to do, sunshine? We can get Bruce here to help get rid of the symptoms or…”

“Or what?”

“We could help you through it. But it’s your choice if we claim you or not.” Steve says.

“Would you want to?” Your voice was small and you were afraid that they’d say no.

“Of course we do, you’re our best girl.” Bucky speaks up.

“I’d like that. To have your marks, all three of you.” You said before groaning when you felt more slick forming between your legs. It didn’t help that their scents were stronger now, this was just your body’s way of reacting to them.

“Ok, sweetheart. Everything is your choice, we’ll do what you want. Who do you want first?”

You looked at the three of them wide eyed.

“Sunshine, you’re ok. You’re safe with us. Just say the word and we’ll stop ok?”

You nodded, your brain foggy and thinking about only one thing.

“Use your words baby.”

“What I say goes.”

“Good girl.” Sam purrs out as he sat down in the nest you’d built.

Before Steve and Bucky left you and Sam, you practically demanded their shirts to add to the nest. Their scents helped soothe you. Any of them would have been a good choice as your first but Sam had been the one you connected with first. He had eased your worries about being in a relationship not only with an alpha but with the three of them. It would only make sense that as your hindbrain took over that you’d seek that same comfort in this part of the relationship.

“Tell me what you want, omega?”

“You. I want you alpha.” You whined as you straddled his thick thighs.

Sam didn’t stop you when you played with the hem of his t-shirt and then pulled it over his head. You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times and you’ve even had a few make out sessions that also ended with him shirtless but this was different. Sam placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer before crashing his lips into yours. He only pulls away to take off your shirt and then his lips are on your neck and chest until he takes your nipple in his mouth. Your hips jerk forward as a reaction to his ministrations. Especially when his hand finds its place between your thighs and is expertly teasing your clit.

“Sam please.”

“I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel good.” He murmured against your skin.

Without warning he ripped the leggings you were wearing. Which was a good thing because you felt like you were burning up.

“Is all this for me?” Sam said with a cocky smirk as he felt the wetness that pooled between your legs.

“Alpha, please. Need you.”

“So pretty when you beg, omega.”

Sam moved you back slightly, enough to pull down his sweats. At any other moment you would have realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear but right now you were more interested in getting some sort of relief. Your attention was on his hardened length and instinctively you wrapped your hand around it and began to move it up and down. You preened when he moaned out your name.

“Y/N, are you sure you want this? Do you want me to claim you?” He asked one more time before he completely lost himself. You couldn’t tell yet but his rut was being triggered just by your heightened scent alone.

“Yes alpha. Want your mark and your knot.”

Sam growled at that and then an arm wrapped around you, pulling you up so that he could line himself up with your entrance. Your breath hitched as you lowered yourself onto him. You had been with a beta once but he didn’t compare to Sam. Sam was bigger, you were sure they would all be. The stretch was a bit uncomfortable at the beginning. He was gently running his hands up and down your thighs to keep you grounded and kissing your neck and chest to distract you. Once you were fully seated and you had a chance to get used to him, he cursed under his breath.

“Are you good, sunshine?”

“Mhm.”

“Take your time baby, I’m all yours. It’s just us, nothing else matters.” Sam smiles up at you as his hands move to your hips.

But you couldn’t wait anymore and you rolled your hips. You moaned as you did it once and a second time. Sam helps you build a steady rhythm by guiding your hips. Soon that isn’t enough and your hands are on his shoulders as you start to bounce on his cock.

“Fuck ‘mega. Feel so good, taking me so well.” Sam mutters. The grip he has on your hips tightens as he starts to take control. It causes more slick to drip from your center and you whine. “Make a mess on my cock ‘mega. Just like that.”

“Alpha, please.” You beg. “W-wanna cum.” You were right there on the edge of bliss but you needed a small push.

His scent was intoxicating, the way Sam held you close was comforting but it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world that made you throw your head back. Giving him easy access so that he could claim you. Sam shifted under you a bit, planting his feet firmly and thrusting up into you. That was all you needed as he hit your g-spot over and over again. It was sudden the wave of pure bliss crashed over you. Sam nearly growled as you clenched around him. Then you felt his teeth break skin but there was no pain, not when he helped you through your orgasm.

You were panting and resting your forehead against his shoulder while he rolled his hips a few more times before his knot locked you into place. He guided you to his neck, urged you to claim him just as he had you and you did it happily and he came with a grunt of your name.

The bond snapped into place and you’d never felt so alive or connected to anyone before.

“So good for me ‘mega.” Sam said softly as he pulled a blanket over you. He kissed your temple. You wanted to say something but you were so tired, your eyelids felt heavy. “It’s ok. Just rest.”

Without a worry in the world you relaxed against him and closed your eyes.

****

“Sam?” You called out as you woke up, worried he had left you.

“I’m right here sunshine.” He poked his head out from the bathroom and smiled at you.

Warmth spread through your chest as you made eye contact and your hand flew to your neck. There you found his mark on you and his smile brightened even more.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Great actually but…”

“But?”

“A little sore.” You said, a bit afraid he’d be upset but he smirked instead. Pride flooded the bond.

“Yeah you are.”

“Sam!” You felt heat rush to your cheeks and more slick formed at the thought of what you had done with him.

“It’s ok baby. I have just the thing for you.”

He walked out of the bathroom and without missing a beat he picked you up. The bathroom was warmer and there were a few candles set up. The bathtub was filled with water and you could smell whatever scented oils he used. There were a few flower petals floating on top too. Sam turned in order to set you down in the tub but your grip on his neck tightened.

“Get in with me?” You looked up at him with doe eyes, something you knew he couldn’t resist.

“Of course.”

Sam got in first and then you did, sitting between his legs and resting your back against his chest. His fingers delicately drew patterns up and down your arm and you sighed contently.

“Thank you.” You said after a few minutes of silence.

“For what?”

“Everything. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Baby, I’d do anything for you. We all would.” He says.

“I know.” You turn to look at him. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful and I’d do anything for the three of you.”

Sam smiles and places a gentle, loving kiss on your lips.

“Well all I want you to do for me right now is to get comfortable again and enjoy this bath before things get intense again.”

You smile and do as he says, enjoying the feel of his kiss on his mark.

Sam had placed you back in your nest. He cuddled with you a bit longer but as your heat built up again he knew it was time for him to let Steve or Bucky in. Even though he was reluctant to do so. Even amongst a pack like theirs possessiveness was bound to happen during an omega’s first heat with her alphas if there were more than one. He knew it was ridiculous to feel that way but he couldn’t help it.

With one last kiss to your forehead Sam got out of the nest you’d built that now smelled like sex. He was replaced by Bucky at your request. You sighed happily when you felt his vibranium hand caress your cheek.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky checked in with you.

“Bad, need you.”

“I know, moonbeam. I’m gonna take care of you now.” Bucky cooed. “Do you still want this? Want my mark on your neck?”

You only nodded as you felt that all familiar fuzziness taking over.

“Use your words darling.”

“Yes, I want it.”

“Good girl.” Bucky smirked as you preened.

He pulled back the blanket you’d been wrapped up in, leaving you bare for him. Bucky inhaled deeply as the sweet scent of French lavender, violets and honey that usually lulled him into a sense of calm, now made him feel alive in a different way. He couldn’t help but settle in between your legs. His lips moving up your thighs and leaving a trail of kisses. Bucky didn’t waste any time as he licked a long stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. He growled at your taste before sealing his lips around your bundle of nerves.

You gasped at the sensation and your hands found their way into Bucky’s hair. The sweet sounds you were making were like music to his ears and he wanted to hear more. Soon enough he slowly started using a finger to fuck you.

“So fucking good omega.” He murmured against your mound before he started to flick his tongue over your clit.

“Alpha please.”

If the heat alone wasn’t enough, Bucky’s very talented mouth wiped all functions from your brain. You knew what you wanted but you couldn’t ask for it. Not with the way he was using two fingers to find that spongy spot inside. The need low in your belly built quickly and you found yourself grinding against his face.

“Be a good girl and cum for your alpha.” Bucky growled and it sent a shiver down your spine and straight to your pussy. You moaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

It took a moment to come down from that high but when you did Bucky was gently caressing your cheek. He smiled at you when you finally looked up at him.

“So pretty when you cum, omega. I wanna see you do it on my knot.”

“Please alpha.” You reached for him and he gladly ducked his head and kissed you. Another moan escapes your lips when you taste yourself on his tongue.

Bucky moves to hover over you without breaking the kiss. Your legs part willingly as he settles himself in between them. When you feel his cock, already hard and leaking precum, against your heat you roll your hips.

“So desperate ‘mega. Is this what you want?” He rolled his hips and you moaned.

You nod and whine as he pulls away slightly. Bucky lines himself up, groaning as he pushes in.

“Look at that, you were made just for me.”

His hands find yours and he puts them over your head, pinning them with one hand. Bucky is slow with a roll of his hips. As much as he wanted to go fast and hard, he remembered that you were more delicate. He had much more restraint than he realized, even when you sounded so pretty.

“Alpha…”

“What do you want, omega? Tell me.” He ran his nose along your neck and he placed a kiss over Sam’s mark before giving your breasts attention.

“More, please.”

“More?”

“Faster. Harder.”

The growl that rumbled in his chest had you clenching around him.

“Are you sure about that darling? Think you can handle me fucking you like that?”

“Yes, please. Need it.”

Bucky smirked, his eyes completely dark and full of lust. His hand letting go of yours and traveling down your body until they’re at your hips. He pulled away from you, sitting up on his haunches and pulling you with him. Bucky snaps his hips once, testing out if that’s really what you want. You throw your head back with a moan as you hold on to his forearms. He does it again and again until he’s built a rhythm that is pushing you to the edge. He knows it just by the way you flutter and clench around him, that and the chorus of yes and alpha that pour out from your mouth.

When you finally reach your peak and you’re engulfed in pure pleasure, Bucky leans over and marks you. You feel his teeth break skin and then his tongue runs over the new mark. The next thing you feel is his knot and you will yourself to look up at him. He’s so beautiful like this, completely blissed out and barely holding back. Bucky offers you his neck and you claim him just how he had done with you. His knot catches and keeps him in place as he whispers your name. With a few final sloppy thrusts, Bucky cums.

Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you with him so that you’re laying on top of him completely. With a satisfied sigh and a smile on both your lips you let sleep take you as Bucky mutters praises in your ear.

****

To your surprise Bucky is still in the nest with you. He was seated up with his back resting against the pillows you had placed to the side earlier. He smiles as you look up at him.

“Hey there sleepyhead.”

“Hey.” You sit up and move to straddle his thighs and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, just wanna be close to you.”

You missed Bucky’s sweet smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close for a few minutes, just enjoying the new bond that had been formed between the two of you.

“You need to drink some water.” He muttered a few minutes later. You pulled back to see he had a water bottle close by as well as some snacks. “Gotta keep your energy up, darling.” He said when he followed your eyes.

“I don’t want to eat.”

“What, all you wanna do is fuck?” He teases.

“Yeah.” You teased right back and he laughed. It was still a new and strange sensation, feeling his happiness through the bond. Along with that feeling Sam’s curiosity piqued.

“Just a few bites of something darling. Let me take care of you.”

“Ok.”

“Good girl.” Bucky’s praise sent a shiver up your spine.

The rest of the time with Bucky was spent cuddling and napping. You weren’t sure what time it actually was but you didn’t care as you were lulled to sleep with the coolness of Bucky’s left hand on your forehead.

The door opens slowly to reveal Steve. He was shirtless and was wearing sweats that hung low on his hips. The sight was mouth watering. He had a smirk on his face and a dark, lust blown look in his eye.

“Hi my sweet starlight.” He said as he walked in and closed the door.

“Hi.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Just you.” You whispered.

“Good answer.”

Although Steve is radiating the confidence that comes with being the head of the pack, both the team and personal, he’s gentle as he gets into the nest. He still understands how vulnerable you are at the moment. Steve hovers over you as he crashes his lips against yours. This kiss is more dominant and all consuming than any you’d shared before. You moan against his lips as his hands find your breasts and palms them.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks against your lips and you nod. “Do you want more?” You nod again.

“Please alpha, need more.”

“Then present for your alpha.” He whispered in your ear.

The command left no room for argument. Not that you would, the growl laced within it spoke directly to your inner omega. You scrambled to get on your hands and knees. Just for good measure you lowered your chest toward the floor and wiggled your hips for him. You heard his groan and then felt a sting on your ass from where he smacked you.

“Such a tease. You’ve been doing it for weeks.” He mutters before smacking your ass again after hearing your moan.

“You’re a tease.”

“Is that what you think baby?”

“Yes.” You say breathlessly as you feel Steve shift behind you and run his hardened length between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated there.

“No more teasing then. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

“Please alpha.” You wiggle your ass for him one more time before he buries himself inside you in one thrust.

That was enough to knock the wind out of your lungs and your mouth to hang open. Steve could feel you clenching around him and it took everything in him to not fuck you into oblivion. At least not yet, he knew he needed to ease into it. Steve pulled back slowly and immediately you felt empty so you pushed back into him.

“Someone’s desperate.” He teases while grabbing your hips to keep you in place.

Then he pushes back into your warm cunt. Steve leaves a trail of kisses up your spine while he ruts into you.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” He whispers into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Steve straightens up and starts to thrust harder and faster. You grip the pillow closest to you as you take every inch of him. He’s turned you into putty in his hands and all you can do is moan and writhe beneath him.

It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling that fire deep in your belly build. It’s obvious to Steve that you’re close with the way you’re making a mess and fluttering around his cock. His hand snakes around your body and wraps around your throat and he pulls you up. Steve moves his free hand from your hip to your clit, giving you added stimulation.

“Alpha… So good.” You said, over and over again.

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl? I know you are. I can feel you squeezing me. So fucking tight.”

The combination of his filthy words, thrusts and hand between your legs was enough. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and the only thing keeping you up is Steve’s arms around you. His head is buried in your neck and that’s when you realized he’s left his mark on your neck. Before you can enjoy the feeling, Steve is pulling away and laying you down on your back before settling between your legs again. He smiles down at you while he lines himself up again.

This time when you look at him you can see the tenderness in his eyes. He’s gentle and caring with how he searches for his own release. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek as he whispers your name as he finds his own bliss and exposes his next to you. His knot seals you together for the moment, but your mark on his neck seals you together forever. Before moving Steve peppers kisses all over your face. Then as carefully as he can he moves to lay on his side. Your leg thrown over his hip and his arms around your waist to keep you close.

****

You’re cuddled up next to Steve when an overwhelming feeling washes over you. You can’t stop the silent tears that slip through your lashes and fall on his bare chest. He pulled back to get a better look at you at the sensation and noticed the tears.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he sits up, bringing you with him. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. There’s no real way to explain it. Soon the door to the room opens to reveal Bucky and Sam. They both have worried expressions on their faces.

“Talk to me baby. What’s wrong? Do you need something?”

“No, I just- I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels like a lot.” You said as you moved into Steve’s lap looking for comfort.

The three alphas look at each other, concerned that maybe they moved too fast. The last thing they wanted was to make you feel forced or trapped in a relationship.

“I’ve been so alone for most of my life. But now I have you, all of you. What if I’m not go-“

“Don’t even think about it.” Bucky cut you off. “We’ve talked about this darling. On our date remember.” He was sitting beside Steve so that you could see him. “Feeling like we don’t belong but we do, you do. That feeling right now, I know it. I felt the same way when I was first mated and bonded.”

“You did?”

“Yeah I did. It took me a while to figure out what that overwhelming feeling that sits right,” he leans forward and touches your chest. “There. It’s the bond and more importantly what you’re feeling is love. It’s the love we have for you.”

“You love me?”

“Sweetheart of course we do.”

“We love you so much.”

“Absolutely.”

They all said at the same time.

“I- I love you too. All of you.” You admitted.

That feeling in your chest warmed you from the inside out. Steve tipped your head back and kissed you softly.

“You have us and we never want you to doubt your place in our pack.” Sam adds. “I don’t think you’ve realized it but you’ve got us wrapped around your finger, sunshine.”

The following few days were a blur. Sam, Bucky and Steve’s rut started a few hours after your heat. The four of you were a tangled mess of limbs within the confines of your nest. They took care of you and you returned the favor.

It was overwhelming and scary, comforting and safe. The more you settled into the bond the more at home you felt. Never again would you be alone. You had your pack to make you feel safe and loved and cherished.

In those first few days understanding the bond and the connection with all three alphas was confusing. But then it clicked. You realized you were more than true mates, your souls were connected too.

Ch 12

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@darkhairedmenrule

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

Series taglist:

@learning-howto-be-myselfx3

@teambarnes72

@buckyinluv

@lizardbumblebee

@snufflet

@supraveng

@samfreakingwinchester

@spookymicrowave

@samlworld

@hawkeyes-queen

@babygirl-one-and-only

@mememe7147

@broiderie

@sausage-sizzle-grace

@kneelforloki

@exhaustedfangirl

@jupitervenusearthmars

[mourningstarrz]

They Belong to Me

summary: ghostface!ethan convinces his family to not include gn!reader from their attacks

tags: nothing rlly LOL, established relationship, secret relationship, alluded murder

a/n: idk bro i was up at night and thought of this, also reader isn’t present until the end LMAOAOAO anyways not beta’d or proofread. lmk if y’all would like to see this develop more :)

-

“I’ll take care of Jason and Greg tonight, I want you the two to be in the clear. Okay?” Quinn and Ethan nodded, taking note of their fathers each and every word. “Alright, now then.” Bailey pulled out a photo of the entire friend group, “they’ll think Jason and Greg hits close to home, but I think we should take it a step further and go for the new addition,” he pointed at you, stood between Sam and Ethan.

“No.” Capturing Bailey and Quinn’s attention, the two turned to look at Ethan with a frown. “We leave y/n out of this.”

“We’re not going to let your dumb infatuation with y/n ruin our plan!” Quinn yelled at him. “You don’t even know if y/n likes your ass, why spare them?”

He sighed and looked up at Bailey, determined to protect you. “Leave y/n out of this. I follow all your orders, and all I want is for them to be safe.” looking back at the picture, he fights back the smile from the memory. “For example, I know y/n trusts me. Mindy is constantly on my ass as a joke, which makes it more likely for her to notice something. Anika is cool with me, but not enough to back me up. Chad,” he blows a raspberry, “yeah, he’s my roommate. But the moment Mindy gets any inkling of anyone, he’s quick to back her up.

“Quinn already has Tara and Sam’s trust to back her up because she’s their roommate. Besides having y/n trust to back me up, I’m only asking for this one favor. Never have I asked for more.” He leaned back against the chair, folding his arms above his chest. “Stay away from y/n. Jason and Greg is close enough.”

A beat of silence. Ethan knew he was stepping in dangerous territory. Asking his psychotic family to not rip you to shreds. But he knew he has to try, he would rather die than bare having to know your fall was due to his family, or even worse, himself.

“Richie always took care of me,” he never did “he would’ve been happy to see me happy.” Richie could’ve cared less about Ethan.

At the sound of the sigh from his father, Ethan congratulated himself. “Fine. But if they run the possibility of ruining everything for us, then you have to kill them. Got it?”

This is the best I can do, he thought to himself. “Fine. Y/n is out of this. Okay?”

Quinn grumbled, leaning against her chair. “Whatever.”

-

As he opened the door, his face lit up at the sight of you mindlessly on his bed, listening to music and scrolling away on your phone. Dropping his backpack on his desk, he walked over to you, smiling when you looked away from your phone.

“Eth!” Flinging your headphones off, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Sighing as the scent of his cologne filled your senses.

He hugged you back, of course. Sitting down next to you. “Miss me that much?” Ethan asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“I thought I came ‘round too early.” You confessed, turning around and fetching your notebook. “Ready to go over econ? This chapter is so confusing to me…”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded and walked up to his backpack, grabbing his notebook as his phone buzzed. None other than Quinn texting him.

quinn hirsch

your little partner better not screw anything up.

Ethan rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone. Taking out a pencil and turning back to you with a smile, “you’re lucky I’m your boyfriend AND your tutor.”

-

a/n: ANYWAYS YEAH LMKKK IF YOU WANT MOREEE reblogs r appreciated🫶

-lucifer

[vioartemis]

You have to let me go

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: A year after the night, after moving to New York, Sam forces Tara to talk about something she would've rather avoided Warnings: blood, injuries, ‘slight’ (maybe a little more than ‘slight’) angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

It had been a year since that night at Woodsboro, at Amber's house, where she and Richie tried to kill everyone. One year since Tara saw you get shot.

She was so scared she had lost you that day.

"Amber, put the gun down" you said, walking slowly towards her as she was aiming at Tara

"Oh, you think you scare me Y/n? I'll kill you both!"

"It's not too late to stop, you can still make the right choice"

"I know."

With that, her index finger went to the trigger, ready to shoot the brunette. Tara couldn't move, paralyzed in fear. She didn't want to die. She couldn't die now.

That was when you rushed to Amber, redirecting her arm so she shot the wall. She pushed you to the ground, tried to shoot Tara again, but you kicked her legs, making her fall next to you.

You straddled her, pinned her left hand above her head, and were struggling to do the same with the other one. She still had the gun.

Tara looked away for a second, looking for the other gun Richie dropped earlier. She bent down and took it from under a cupboard.

When she heard the gunshot, Tara's head jolted up in your direction. You were still on top of Amber, pinning both her hands to the ground. In the silence that followed, she could hear a faint noise.

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

Red droplets were dripping from your chest onto the wooden floor. A red stain started to appear on your back, growing quickly at the liquid was absorbed by your shirt.

Tara felt her heart stop when she saw you falling on top of Amber, who pushed you to the side so she could get up. The sight of you lying on the floor in a puddle of your own blood made her go crazy.

She didn't even realize what she did until she heard Amber's body hit the ground. Didn't pay too much attention to it either.

She ran to you, pressing her hands on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Your eyes were closed, you were pale. For a second she thought you were dead.

But you opened your eyes slowly, hissing in pain.

"Fortunately, she doesn't know how to aim..." you said weakly, making her smile

That was very typical of you, joking in this kind of situation. She would've been disappointed if you didn't - or worried.

She didn't remember well the next days, it was all blurry, but she blamed the painkillers and the aftershock of the attack for it. All that mattered was that you were alive, and by her side.

When the time had come to move to New York, she was relieved. She felt like she could finally breathe and that she finally had a chance to live happy with you.

You went to Central Park together, watching sunsets and eating ice cream while sitting on a bench. You went to karaoke, ice rinks, roller parks, everything that you never tried before.

You even tried axe throwing once, but quickly abandoned the idea when the weapon brushed your head. Maybe it was a little too dangerous for a date.

It was so refreshing to do all these things without being worried of being attacked by Ghostface. To the brunettes, everything seemed lighter here, people seemed nicer too.

Tara liked her new friends, Anika, Ethan and Quinn - who was also their roommate. Out of the three, her favorite was definitely Anika, Mindy's girlfriend. She was so sweet and cute... Nothing compared to you of course, you were her one and only.

To her surprise, they didn't seem to really like you thought. They seemed distant when talking about you, as if they were hiding some kind of feeling they didn't want her to see. Which was understandable; who would want their friends to tell them they didn't like their girlfriend?

Even Sam who had always loved you was acting strange. Side eyes, little looks every now and then... Maybe she was just worried about her. Which was, again, understandable.

What was less clear was the people in the street. They were looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. Maybe they weren't used to see two girls holding hands publicly...

Tara didn't pay too much attention to it, preferring to focus on you and your beautiful smile. That smile she wanted to see every day when she woke up for the rest of her life.

She put a movie on for the two of you, your favorite one, and didn't know if she should get popcorn or not. She didn't like the taste of it on your lips when she kissed you, but she liked eating it while watching a movie, comfortably huddled in your arms.

"Can we talk?" Sam suddenly asked her

"We're kinda busy right now, don't you see we're watching a movie?"

"That's what we need to talk about Tara. You can't keep doing that."

"Watching movies with my girlfriend?" Tara asked, confused

"Pretending she's still here"

"What are you talking about? Y/n's right here!"

"No, she's not. It's all in your head Tara... None of us can see her..."

The brunette looked behind her, where her friends where standing, not far away from Sam.

"It's not funny, Sam. Guys please, tell her to stop"

"..."

She turned to you, seeking your help.

"Y/n do something... Tell her to stop, you know how I felt when-"

"... She's right Tara..." you said with a sad smile "You have to let me go..."

"What...? But-"

"You need to accept it Tara..." her sister said

"It's okay my love, acceptance doesn't mean you will forget me... You need to move on, start a new life here with your friends..."

"What are you guys talking about? What should I accept?"

"That she died at Woodsboro, that very night at Amber's house" Sam intervened

"No I- I was there I-"

"You couldn't save me Tara..."

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

Red droplets were dripping from your chest onto the wooden floor. A red stain started to appear on your back, growing quickly at the liquid was absorbed by your shirt.

Tara felt her heart stop when she saw you falling on top of Amber, who pushed you to the side so she could get up. The sight of you lying on the floor in a puddle of your own blood made her go crazy.

She didn't even realize what she did until she heard Amber's body hit the ground. Didn't pay too much attention to it either.

She ran to you, pressing her hands on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Your eyes were closed, you were pale. For a second she thought you were dead.

Then it lasted a minute. Then two. Then five.

You weren't opening your eyes.

No matter how much she cried, how much she begged you to, you didn't move.

Her hands were soaked with your blood. Her heart was broken in million pieces.

She couldn't admit it, you couldn't be gone. Not like that. Not now. You would open your eyes soon, hissing in pain, and say something like 'Fortunately, she doesn't know how to aim'.

Her eyes filled with tears when the realization hit her.

"But our dates last year...? A-and all these nights we spent together...? And... and everything that happened since that night...?"

"I was never here..."

"N-no I- I can't make up all this in my mind...! Y-you're talking to me right now, it's you, it's-"

"Is it really? Didn't you notice that I only seem to say what you wanted to hear...?"

"Y-yeah but that's how it has always been... we never fought before... A-and I don't want to hear what you say right now...!"

"But you need to, and your inner self is plenty aware of that..."

"Y/n..."

She reached for your hand, but she couldn't take it. It was like she tried to grab a fistful of fog; impossible. She looked up at you, terrified.

"No... no no no no... please..."

She tried to grab your hand again, then your arm, your thigh, anything that could prove to her that you were here. But she couldn't. She could still see you, but touching you had become impossible.

"It's normal that you can't touch me, your brain is starting to process... Soon you will not see me anymore..."

Indeed, you started to slowly fade away as her brain processed the information.

"No please... I don't want to...! I don't want you to go...! I- I need you Y/n...! Please stay...!" she tried to hold you, unsuccessfully

"I'll still be with you, in your heart, in your memory..."

"Please Y/n... baby... I- I can't... I can't do it without you..."

"Tara, my love... You have your sister, your friends, they're here to help you... And I'll be here too, sometimes, if you really need me. But you have to try and live your life..."

You had that smile that made her fall so hard 4 years ago. That smile that she loved so much. She knew it was only her mind making it up for her so the last image she would have of you would be that smile. She could see you were fading away.

Yet you seemed so real...

Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she watched you disappear.

She stared at the empty space you left next to her, until Sam took her in her arms.

"It's going to be okay, I promise..."

"S-she's gone... I... Sam, I can't... I can't without her... I- I need her... I..."

The brunette sobbed uncontrollably in her sisters' arms, who rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her a little.

Moving on would be difficult. So difficult. But she knew that was what you would've wanted. See her happy.

[angelsdean]

you probably noticed this but: right after dean finishes telling the CBGB story, he says “john friggin winchester” and takes a shot, and the jacting joices in that moment are… god. i mean the jacting joices are there the entire time ofc but they kinda give *overemphasizing this as a ‘cool john’ story* to me at first, but in that final moment—dean purses his lips, he shifts in his seat, he stares into the distance… he looks bitter. it’s like dean allows himself to feel bitter about this story for just a second, when sam and cas are no longer looking at him ://

(the exact moment i’m talking about is in a gifset you reposted recently)

Yea there's definitely a vibe throughout the whole thing that he's like, telling it as this "funny anecdote" but underneath there's more feelings brewing about this story. Like the story itself comes up because Sam prompts him to tell it, so it's not even Dean's first thought.

Even Cas asking them "You loved your father?" and Dean's response, "With all I had" is like, on the surface you can take that as a positive statement but it's also pretty vague when you really poke at it. It's like, okay and how much love for your father DID you have? It's not the same as a resounding "Yes, of course!" It's more, "I loved him as much as I personally could, given everything." And I do think Dean loved his father. Dean is full of love and he cares even when people might not deserve it. But, we also know he's no stranger to criticizing his father (as he literally says in the next breath that John was not winning any Dad of the year awards) and acknowledging that he was put through shit he did not deserve at way too young of an age.

Even him saying "damn if he wasn't there when we needed him" it's, I mean, he's literally criticized John for being a deadbeat and leaving them and not answering the phone and putting them in danger before so this line immediately rings hollow. And in the context of the scene it makes sense that he'd say this to Cas because Cas is specifically asking them about John as a way of understanding what a father is supposed to do. He prefaces his questions about John with the fact that HE never knew his father and thus has little experience with this whole Claire situation. He's looking for guidance, so it makes sense that Dean would over-embellish a little and want to paint John in a better light for the sake of telling Cas that "yea a good dad is there for their kids." Which we Know John wasn't always there for them. (Side note but all of this ALSO ties into Rowena and Crowley's subplot this episode, how she abandoned HER kid, wasn't there for him, left him vulnerable but is trying to be there now etc etc. Thematically it's an episode abt imperfect parents and their children). And the fact that Sam prompts the story to me says that Dean was probably just going to leave it at that, simply giving his advice to Cas that good dads are always there for their kids.

But anyways, all this to say, I can definitely see Dean feeling bitter about the story at the end there. Especially as the happy little mood drops and he's no longer trying to "give advice" and is reminded of the case, Claire, and how his own experiences actually relate to hers. It's like he finishes telling the story Sam prompted him to tell in the first place and he remembers, "yeah and that was fucked up. and dad might've been there THEN but what about all the other times he left us vulnerable and open to be preyed on. and now Claire is in the hands of this pseudo-guardian who is also putting her in dangerous and vulnerable situations, and and and."