#It took a full year for me to finish that song since I was learning on the go

[herefortheships]

There's something I totally haven't talked about in this blog in a while, and since I have many new people following me recently (which I'm super happy and grateful for 😊✨ Thank you!), I thought I should share!

Ok. I'm just super bad at self-promoting, because I'm an introverted and shy person (and it's also embarrassing for me to self-promote; the least I want is to seem annoying or pretentious or something 🥲🙈).

But yes, here it goes:

I have a new song out since July! My song is called "The Songstress" and it is the first song I ever produce all by myself. You can listen to it on YouTube in this link for free if you like. Or if you want to support me some more you can stream it on Spotify or other streaming platforms (it's on Amazon, iTunes, Apple Music, and many others, since I used DistroKid as a distributor). Or just subscribe to my YouTube channel because it also helps the algorithm with visibility.

I hope you like my song! Next song was going to be out in October. Let's see if I can get it finished by the end of the month. If not, next month. It will be titled "Scarecrow". I just have to get it mixed and mastered, but the song is complete now.

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

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“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[malfoyscoffee]

cruel summer ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!reader genre fluff, slightest angst | 2.4k words | best friends to lovers warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, crying, and au with no voldemort. song "cruel summer" — lover, taylor swift

It was the best summer you could have asked for.

All your friends had decided to spend your last summer before graduation at one of your estates; one located in a small yet beautiful muggle town where no one knew of your identities.

Your big and empty villa helped everyone have their own space. Yet you had spent every waking moment making more fun memories and getting close to your friends, especially Theodore.

Even yesterday, the two of you went out to the nearby beach and returned drenched from the ocean water and rain combined, forgetting to bring spare clothes to the spontaneous trip. Your friends didn’t bat an eye when the two of you returned like wet dogs, knowing it was normal for you two to go on your own adventures.

Today marked the final three days before summer ended before you had to return to Hogwarts for your seventh year.

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with pastel colors, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of ash from the bonfire that Mattheo and Blaise had started. Your group had recently learned of a muggle snack called Smores, so everyone found a spot around the fire, trying to make the treat for the first time.

“We should all go out to the town bar later tonight since it’s better to be hungover tomorrow than the last day,” Draco suggested, leaning back in his seat as you took a bite out of the dessert. You leaned over to Theodore, who shared the spacious seat with you, letting him take a bite too.

"That’s a brilliant idea, it's our last night to drink before we start the semester,” Mattheo agreed, nodding along with what most of the group was thinking.

Theodore shifted next to you, leaning down on your shoulder while speaking up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so go without me.”

You looked at your best friend closely, not realizing sooner that he had felt sick today.

"Did you catch a cold from yesterday?” Pansy inquired, reaching over to one of the plates to grab some graham crackers. There were many plates sprawled out over the side tables filled with crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

You felt Theodore nod next to you, "Yeah, I think it’s from the rain yesterday, I’ll be fine though. You guys go without me,” Theodore reassured, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

“I’ll come to pick you up if you want to head back early from the bar later,” He spoke with his mouth full, making you laugh as you could barely make out his sentence.

After he finished eating the marshmallow, he placed his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Thanks, Theo,” You said before taking the last bite of your Smore.

He smiled brightly at you before the group soon fell into different topics. 

You eventually got up from your seat, walking over to the girls to listen to the latest gossip that Pansy heard through the grapevine.

However, a conversation caught the attention of everyone.

“You're going to go abroad?” Lorenzo's eyes widened at Theodore's announcement, causing a hush to fall over the group.

You turned straight to where you were previously sitting. Blaise was the next to speak, “Mate, when was this decided?” Everyone waited for Theodore’s response while your nervousness suddenly kicked in.

Sure, none of you verbally discussed your future after Hogwarts, but it was a silent agreement assumption that all your friends would settle down nearby.

“I’m planning on going to the States for a while, nothing is set yet though.”

Your heart sank as you watched Theodore's gaze meet yours, his expression a mixture of regret and apprehension.

"When were you going to tell us?” You questioned, still shocked by this announcement.

He looked down at his hands, feeling ashamed for keeping this from everyone, especially you.

“i just didn’t know when to bring it up, so thanks Enz,” Theodore glared at Lorenzo, “For dropping the bomb like this.” He spoke sarcastically at the boy who sighed.

Astoria tried to lighten the mood, noticing the frown on your lips, “Draco, aren’t you going to London after we graduate?”

The conversation shifted to Draco’s plans to study in university longer to become a healer before the group shifted to another topic.

You couldn’t focus after hearing about Theodore’s future plans being abroad, meaning it would get hard to see him.

But why were you worried when he was just your best friend?

“Hey, can you both go inside and help me get more ingredients?” Pansy asked you and Astoria loudly, the two of you agreed to go inside for a moment.

“So, are you going to tell Theo?” Astoria looked at you, curiosity playing in her eyes. She walked over to the shopping bags on the kitchen island to grab more chocolate bars.

“Tell Theo what?” You stare at her with confusion, walking over to your pantry to grab the marshmallow bags. Pansy sighed, setting out more plates for the ingredients on the counter.

“Are you going to tell Theo that you like him?” You froze your actions for a second, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the marshmallow bag in your arms.

“What do you mean? We're just best friends.” You wave them off and open the bag.

Astoria slaps a hand to her forehead, “Yeah, but you fancied him for years! Also, the two of you have been hanging out every single day of our summer. What two best friends don’t get sick of each other and act like a couple?”

“Two blind idiots, that is.” Pansy finishes Astoria’s question, right as you finish pouring the marshmallows.

You sigh, “Okay, sure I fancy Theo. But you guys just heard that he’s leaving for the states after graduation. I won’t even see him, so it’s hopeless.”

You felt yourself getting more upset at the idea that Theodore didn’t tell you before, “Why did he hide that information though?”

Astoria walked around the kitchen island to comfort you, a hand resting on your back. "You know, it’s okay if you do end up confessing to Theo. We still have one year at school together,” Astoria comforted you.

Pansy picks up the plates you filled and sets it on the island, “Also, didn’t you hear when he said it’s not set yet? He might not go abroad, who knows?”

You turn around and grab the plates, walking towards the door to go back outside, “It's useless, he doesn’t like me back. Let's just forget this happened.”

A few hours later, you sat in a booth at the town’s muggle bar with everyone except Theodore.

The muggle bar was bustling with activity, filled with the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and the rhythmic beat of music from the large speakers. Your group opted to sit in the big booth instead, the furthest away from the commotion. This was more fun as it was similar to what you did at parties back at Hogwarts.

In front of you laid three empty pitchers, once full of dirty shirleys, the alcohol gone in two hours due to your rushed drinking.

“Can someone drink the rest of my vodka cran?” Astoria asked, leaning into Blaise’s shoulder. Everyone chuckled at her behavior, knowing Astoria was always the first one to get tired while drinking.

Blaise pushed her cup towards Mattheo, who gladly accepted the drink for himself. Most of your friends had a high alcohol tolerance, so it was expected to drink for hours.

“It’s okay, you can close your eyes for a bit,” Blaise spoke while looking down at Astoria with adoring eyes. The entire group saw the interaction, feeling bittersweet about the affectionate couple in your friend group.

“Salazar, if only I had a boyfriend who would watch me while I'm out drinking,” You spoke while grabbing Astoria’s—now Mattheo’s, drink and chugging it down.

Everyone was taken aback by your action because this was not how you usually acted during the many years of drinking with you. 

“You do have someone who takes care of you every time you drink.” Draco reminds you while pushing the vodka cranberry away from you.

You stare at Draco with wide eyes, “No, Dray, Theo only sees me as a friend.” You let out a dramatic sigh and your friends laugh at your obvious crush, which only Theodore hasn’t picked up on yet.

Draco puts his hands up in surrender, but with his signature smirk, “I didn’t even have to say his name for you to talk about him, huh?”

“Theodore Nott, my best friend, does not like me.” You groan while putting your hands on your eyes and leaning back in the comfortable seat.

Tears welled up in your eyes, catching everyone off guard as your emotions spilled over. “Guys, Thor’s going to leave for the States. How will I see him when he’s abroad for Merlin knows how long?”

Pansy started to pass your napkins to wipe away your tears, while Lorenzo took out his phone. “I’m going to text Theo to pick her up.”

Pansy nodded at Lorenzo before looking at you in pity, “Yeah, she’s going to be out soon.”

Everyone kept their gaze on you as your tears eventually stopped falling. “Rest your head and sleep a little.” Mattheo spoke while moving your head to his shoulder while you closed your eyes.

Seeing your eyes closed, Draco twirled the black straw in his cup, “So when do you guys think they’re going to get together?”

Pansy chuckled at the comment, taking out her phone to snap a few photos of you for memory's sake. “First week after we get back to school, I’ll bet on it.”

"I say in one day,” Mattheo chimed in with a grin, resuming the conversation while you rested.

"Theodore!” You exclaim while running to your best friend. You pull him into a hug while breaking into a big smile, Theodore laughing at your drunk state.

Theodore waves behind you to say goodbye to Mattheo and Pansy, who walked you outside the building. Everyone else planned to stay longer at the bar.

The fresh cold breeze greeted you as you stepped outside, causing you to shiver lightly for not dressing for the weather.

Theodore quickly draped his hoodie over your head, the fabric offering warmth against the chilly evening air.

The cold breeze nipped at your skin, causing goosebumps to form as you wrapped Theodore’s hoodie tighter around yourself.

Theodore quickly found your hand and intertwined it, a smile reaching both of your faces. The two of you walked back to the villa in comfortable silence.

It was a short walk back and when you arrived, you excitedly pulled Theodore to your spot.

You had told Theodore about the garden kept away in the gates in the back of your villa, hanging out many times during your stay. You decided to keep the garden a secret, wanting it to be your little hideout.

“Did you have a fun time?” Theodore asks first, walking towards the white bench placed in the garden.

You shake your head, staring at your connected hands,“No, Blaise and Astoria were being so cute it made me sad.”

Theodore frowned, pulling you to sit down next to him. Your connected hands were placed on his lap.

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything” Theodore reassured, unsure if you would open up to him while being drunk. He knew the walk back would sober you up a bit, but not completely.

“It’s just,” You stopped to think about your next words while Theodore waited for you to continue.

“Never mind, I’m fine.”

“But that’s not true.”

Theodore’s gaze bore into your own, not making any effort to move. The moonlight cast a soft glow over Theodore's features, illuminating his face as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Let’s just go inside,” You suggest, standing up from the bench and pulling his hand.

“Did you cry?” Theodore asks, being able to see your face more clearly after you’ve stood up.

Theodore rose and cupped a hand on your face, tracing over your cheeks. “Why did you cry?”

You place a hand over his hand, moving it away from his face. “This,” You break free from his hold completely and take a step to create space away from him, “Theo, this is why I cried. You’re the reason that I cried.”

Theodore stares at you without saying anything, making you more frustrated.

“Theo, I love you, isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” You yell your confession, finally voicing the feelings you’ve kept from him. Your heart raced as you finally voiced the feelings you had kept hidden for so long, the weight of your confession hanging in the air.

Theodore had a devious grin on his face, his laughter echoing in the quiet garden as he pulled you into a reassuring hug. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life.”

You stand there shocked at his actions, “No,” You mumble into his shoulder. “No, this can’t be happening.”

You pull away from his hug, “Theo, you’re going abroad after graduation, I won’t even see you. Salazar, how is this even going to happen? No, how are we going to happen? Wait, do you even like me?”

As Theodore pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, you felt a surge of warmth flood through you, dispelling the lingering doubts and fears. “You really can’t see that I’ve loved you since first year?”

Your mouth is open from shock, and Theodore laughs once again, this time wiping the tears away.

“This can work. I’ll be gone for a few months but I’ll come back, here, to be with you.”

You look at Theodore, a smile now forming, “So we can do this? Give this relationship a try?”

“Yes, now let’s walk inside, you’re going to catch a cold.”

You give Theodore a quick peck on his cheek, before taking his hand again.

“You know,” Theodore pulls your intertwined hands to kiss your hand, leading you to exit the garden.

You blush at his action, “What?” You ask curiously.

“It’s a cruel summer with you.”

And you can guess that Mattheo won that bet.

[creativewritersposts]

a damn poet - Connor Bedard

requested; @chericherilvr 💓

summary; Connor Bedard x reader

Connor is so busy trying to have his best season that he forgets about things that really matter. He needs to learn how to be a poet to save your relationship.

warning(s); angst! fluff, argument, maybe grammar errors

author's note; it took me hours to finish this one. It was an honor for me to write this request. ♡

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Deep in your heart you know how Connor feels for you. He wouldn't invite you over another continent, joining his world championship, if he wouldn't love you. But something inside you breaks. Seeing all these hockey couples with cute pictures, sending their girlfriend flowers and the players screaming from the rooftop how much they love their girlfriends.

Connor is not like this. He loves you, he cooks your favorite food and watches all movies you want to watch. He's so focused to play the best rookie year he could do and lost the focus on his private life. He doesn't want to post your relationship official, because of his fan base.

You're self-evident for him.

"Hey love", you smile with big eyebags, touching his shoulder as he walks in the hotel room. It's your first time after three days having a real conversation with him.

"Hi", his mouth is straight, kissing your temple and waking in the bathroom. You're exhausted from love-bombing him. You're so tired of being so upset.

"How was your day?", you ask him, hearing the shower. "I can do better", his voice echos back. "You're already enough, my love", you shout back and throw your body into the bed. You spread your arms apart, your legs are on the ground.

Connor comes out after a few minutes ago in a towel, his hair is still wet and he's looking fine.

"What is that?", he grabs a paper from the desk.

"So I hold onto your shirt, as I stain it with blood

Will I finally find my own peace?

Clear my mind out of my thoughts, then state that I'm in love

Tempted with the idea of dying in these sheets"

"I'm writing songs ", your voice shakes. Connor never noticed this because he's always busy and you're asleep when he comes home. You're working full-time in a job you don't like and at night you're writing songs. Hopefully to live from that one day.

Connor looks up from these lines, "since when?", he breathes in. Hid eyes get red. Red like crying. "over a year", you sit up on the bed, your arms are supporting your back.

"Why didn't you tell me, babe?", he sniffles.

Babe. How long didn't you hear this nickname?

"You were busy", you tell him the truth. Maybe he'll break up with you. Connor sobbs, "are you really feeling this way? Finally finding your own peace?", his blue eyes searching yours, you can see how much it burdens him.

"your lyrics are professional, they're so good", he cries and tries to hide it. Whipping his tears with his wrist, face to his bag with all clothes.

He's putting a shirt on, turning around. "I just need time to realize this, babe", he kisses your lips, you taste the salt from his tears.

"You have an important game tomorrow, I'm ok with that ", you response. He nods and lays down. Without a kiss, hug or this comfortable feeling.

He lays down and let you alone with all these thoughts in your head. He doesn't seem to care much about you. Maybe it's time to leave.

Next day Connor feels like shit, even in his hockey clothes, nice fans around his team. He slept surprisingly well, but feels like the night after silvester.

It burns in his chest, you don't feel happy. But why? Since when you're writing songs? as a good boyfriend he should know. What is he missing in this relationship.

He's not shitty boyfriend, he didn't know it's hurting you. He thought its okay that he's having a strict time schedule.

"Concentration, Bedsy!", his teammate hits his shoulder to wake him up from daydreaming. Like a robot Connor played his best game but the celebration feels like a crime.

"Yo Connor are you going out with us?", some boys asking him in the cabin to celebrate their win. "No", he wants to see you. He forgot how stunning you are. How hard working you are. You're a poet and he had no clue!

He walks in your hotel room, lights are out. Just some papers all over the bed. He grabs one paper, reading the lines.

'He grabs me by my neck

Puts a dagger to my heart

Tells me I'm a mess

That I'll never be enough'

Gosh, it hits him. You are more than enough. You're his safe place. He reads every paper, focused about what you feel. It's time to hear out what you need.

He grabs his phone, calling you.

"Hello?", your voice sounds happy. "Where are you, babe?", he asks interested. "I'm at the whirlpool inside the hotel, I'll come over in 5 minutes, okay?", you're scared he's mad when you're late. You thought he's celebrating with his team and won't come to bed until midnight.

You pack the stuff and walk back to your shared room.

The opened door shows you the sort out papers with your lyrics on your bed shelf.

Connor lays in bed, smiling softly. It's typical Connor, he's a clean guy.

He smiles. He smiles at you without talking about hockey. "Congratulations for winning, I'm proud of you", you stutter.

This view feels so surreal, having a relationship after months. Having a boyfriend waiting for you.

"You look beautiful", he grins angelic.

You stopped the last step, "what did you say?". Maybe you have issues with your ears.

"You look beautiful and I love you", he talks loud.

"Love you too?", your honest reaction. The last time he said it, he broke is jaw and was out of his mind because painkillers. Months ago.

"Uhm can we talk, please?", he pets your hand, when you lay down with him. It feels like home. Smelling his perfume, hearing his breath and touching you.

"Sure", you get insecure what's coming next.

"Ok it's not easy for me", one tear runs down his cheek. You're frightened, just able to nod.

"Why do you write songs with me as enemy?", his voice is distanced and cold.

"Oh I'm sorry I don't write lies!", you defense yourself.

"I'm a good boyfriend!", he argues, "you treat me like I'm self-evident!", you yell your frustration out of your lungs. So much pain inside your chest wants to come out of your mouth. So much unsayed words.

"No-", he argues back, more tears are coming out his blue eyes.

"Yes Connor! Yes, it's true! I love writing songs and I hate my job so much! I am crying every night because my boyfriend doesn't care about me and I'm all alone and you're hiding me from fans because you could have a ruined career, I get it!", you sob under choking your salty tears. You're outraged.

You take your pillow and lay down on the floor, Connor looks down, "come over".

"No", "god damn come over!", he huffs.

"You have practice tomorrow, good night!".

That's the last time you saw him for the next two days. He's busy. Semifinals are tonight and Connor posted something on Instagram, you're too upset to check.

One WAG comes to you at the game, giggles and tells you, "never thought Bedsy is a poet!". The game is already on fire but your fingers are like a magnet, they want to switch what he posted - even if he's an idiot.

He posted a picture of you reading a book in the garden, laughing at you without pressure, without hockey and in his caption;

"You can feel, when someone traces your skin

You can kneel, run, jump and also can spin

And when I close my eyes I wish I was just like you"

[xmads-omensx]

Sorry if I'm overdoing it with yet another request.

Levi Ackerman x female reader

fluff/ one shot

Levi and Y/N are married and they have a 3 year old son. There is a visit from Santa Claus at the mall. The boy learned that his father's birthday is on the same day as Christmas. So, he demands two gifts from Santa Claus for Levi and also for himself. The boy says he also wants his birthday to be at Christmas too.

I don't know if I managed to make you understand. But the story would be fun too.

Thanks. I don't know if the same person can make another request.

DAY 21 - MALL SANTA VISIT

Word Count: 1,591

pairing: Levi Ackerman X wife!reader

content warnings: modern au, they have a child, fluff

Of course, you can send as many requests as you like! I really enjoy writing them so it's no problem at all!

Also sorry it took so long to post, I decided to use it as part of my 25 Days of Christmas <3

Hope you enjoy :)

Furlan was fascinated by the prospect of the shopping mall having a Santa Claus who could grant your Christmas wishes.

He thought Santa was only supposed to live in the North Pole, but his Aunt and Godmother, Hange had told him all about it.

She told him that Santa sometimes had to travel to shopping malls because then he could make sure he was getting everybody’s Christmas wish correct.

He couldn’t wait.

Levi was less than ecstatic when I told him about our weekend plans to visit the mall Santa that Saturday, but he went along with it to make Furlan happy.

That Saturday morning, we had been rudely awoken by Furlan’s excited shouts as he flung himself onto our bed giggling to himself.

Levi took him into his arms before placing a kiss on the top of his head and whispering a quick good morning to me.

Furlan had been counting down the days ever since Hange told him about the legendary mall Santa.

I got myself dressed whilst Levi got Furlan ready, then grabbed my handbag and jacket before heading down to the front door.

Levi had already strapped Furlan into his car seat and had opened the passenger door for me to climb into. As I got into my seat, I paced a chaste kiss on his cheek before he closed the car door behind me.

The entire drive was full of Furlan’s cheery voice singing his favourite Christmas songs.

“Hange!” Furlan shouted, pointing out the window as we pulled into the shopping mall car park. And sure enough, he was right. Next to her beat up pickup truck, Hange stood excitedly waving at us as we pulled into the parking space beside her in Levi’s sleek, black car.

Furlan wiggled with excitement in his seat as he anxiously waited for Levi to unstrap him so that he could rush to his Aunt.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Levi huffed, secretly glad to see his friend.

“Y/N here mentioned that you weren’t quite done Christmas shopping, so I figured I would come and keep her company whilst you and Erwin finished shopping.” She explained happily, hugging me tightly as we laughed.

“Erwin?” Levi questioned, his eyebrow raising.

“Yep!” Hange exclaimed with glee, pointing at the white range rover that had just pulled into the car park a few spaces along from them.

Erwin exited his car with a big wave as Furlan giggled in Hange’s arms at his Godfather.

“So what, you’re shipping Erwin and I off while you two go to visit Santa?” Levi asked with his usual frown.

“Yep!” I exclaimed, kissing his cheek.

Erwin walked over to the group and immediately began to usher Levi into the mall to “escape the wrath of Hange” as he put it, since he still hadn’t managed to bring a plus one to the annual Christmas party.

Hange and I entered the shopping mall shortly after Erwin and Levi.

The plan was to look in some of the shops before heading to the ‘North Pole’ that had been set up outside of one of the larger department stores in the mall.

We would meet Levi and Erwin there, as Levi still wanted to take his son to see Santa, despite the fact that he was never a huge fan of the holiday, or the excess decorations that looked messy and cluttered when they were hung up in the bust shopping mall.

“So, what have you gotten Levi? Because I have no idea.” Hange asked.

“For Christmas, or his birthday?” I replied.

“Christmas, you know he only lets you get him birthday gifts.” Hange replied.

“I got him a new winter coat that he asked for, and a new teacup for his collection.” I replied. The teacup was tradition, so there was very little point in me even telling Hange that I had purchased it for Levi.

“Ugh, that’s boring!” Hange complained.

“Hey, you asked.” I defended. “And besides, you know Levi only ever asks for practical things if he really needs them, and even then he only asks me to get them for him.” I finished with a laugh.

“But seriously, I want to  get him something and you are literally his wife so give me answers!” She demanded, practically hanging off of my arm.

“Why don’t you get him some new gloves? He likes those leather ones but they have a hole in the pinkie.” I suggested, making Hange’s eyes roll. She never liked getting anyone practical gifts.

“But that’s boring.” She complained.

“But Levi will like it.” I mocked her tone.

“Ugh, why is your father so dull, Furlan?” Hange asked my son who clutched my hand tightly in his own.

“He’s not dull, he just has specific tastes.” Furlan recited to Hange what Levi often said to him when he didn’t want to get the pain sets out.

Hange and I both burst out laughing at my son’s robotic response, sounding exactly like his father.

“Okay, back to the topic at hand.” Hange began once again. “So I can’t get Levi anything for his birthday? Only Christmas?”

“Hange, you know the answer.” I began.

“I know! But I just figured that since they fall on the same day, it shouldn’t matter what I get him because they will blur together anyway.” She explained.

“You do have a point, but you know he doesn’t like his birthday.” I went on.

“I know. I guess I just keep hoping that one year he’ll change his mind and want to celebrate it.” Hange added with a sigh.

“What are you talking about mama?” Furlan asked.

“Your dad’s birthday.” I replied. I didn’t want to have to explain to Furlan why his father hated his birthday.

“Does daddy not like his birthday?” He asked. His large, round grey eyes staring back up at me.

“No, he doesn’t sweetie.” I replied with a smile.

“Why not?” He asked. Shit. There was that question that I didn’t want to ever have to answer.

“Well, kiddo, you know how I don’t like bananas?” Hange asked, leaning down to Furlan’s eye-level. He nodded his head. “Well, your dad just doesn’t like his birthday. He never has the whole time I’ve known him.” She finished, patting Furlan on the head and standing back up to her full height.

“Just get him the gloves so he can stop complaining about the hole in the pinkie finger.” I laughed after a brief moment of pause.

After much complaining from Hange, we managed to buy the gloves and head back to the agreed meeting spot.

Levi and Erwin stood next to one of the pillars by the makeshift ‘North Pole’, Erwin towering over Levi as usual.

“Daddy!” Furlan called as he let go of my hand and ran into his father’s arms.

“Are you excited to meet Santa bud?” Levi asked our son who beamed up at him, nodding his head frantically.

I took Furlan’s hand and led him over to the queue where he was to wait until it was his turn to sit on Santa’s lap.

The line went down quickly as each child took their turn to make their wish to Santa.

Suddenly, it was Furlan’s turn.

He walked up to Santa with a big smile on his face and giggled as Santa lifted him up onto his lap. I rejoined Levi and the others by the pillar.

“So, young man, what’s your name?” Santa asked Furlan.

“Furlan Ackerman!” He exclaimed with excitement, making Santa laugh.

“And what would you, Furlan Ackerman, like for Christmas?” He asked.

Furlan thought for a moment before answering.

“well… I have tow wishes.” He said timidly.

“Two!” Santa exclaimed. “Well, I suppose since you have been such a good boy this year, I can grant you two wishes.” Furlan smiled before answering.

“My Daddy’s birthday is on Christmas, but he doesn’t like his birthday, and I think that’s sad. So my first wish is that my Daddy likes his birthday again so we can all have fun and he can get even more presents!” I could feel Levi tense ever so slightly beside me.

“I see.” Santa paused for a second. “And what about your second wish?”

“I wish that my birthday was Christmas too, so that my Daddy and I can share a party and get more presents too!” Furlan exclaimed with excitement.

“Well.” Santa began. “I can’t change your birthday, but I’ll see if I can do anything about your father enjoying his birthday.”

Furlan beamed with joy at Santa’s words.

“Take this for yourself.” Santa held out a small wrapped package to Furlan, “ And take this for your father.”

Furlan took both gifts, thanked Santa before hurrying back to where we all waited beside the pillar.

As soon as he reached us, Furlan handed Levi the gift that Santa had given him.

“Open it.” Furlan demanded, sounding exactly like his father.

Levi hesitantly peeled back the red wrapping paper to reveal a small keyring with two wings on them. One of them blue, and the other white. It was an insignificant little keyring, but for some reason, it made Levi begin to tear up.

Then it hit you. Levi didn’t hate the idea of his birthday anymore, because he had his own family to re-write the past with.

Furlan’s wish to the mall Santa, made Levi realise how loved he truly was.

And that small, cheap keyring was a symbol of the love from a son to his father, which Levi would treasure forever.

[urboynoah]

How the ES!Autobots would react to you singing a love song in another language

that silly idea just arrived in my head listening to "Mon Amour - Remix" because, idfk, it has such a good vibe. I KNOW i haven't written shit for literal years but transformers got the best of me! Link of the song as the end, ASKS OPEN!!

The terrans part is NOT ROMANTIC!!! IT'S YOU ASKING THEIR OPINION ON SINGING IT FOR YOUR CRUSH!! don't make this weird pls

(Also I know I'm bad at writing. I just do it for fun so no judging pls!! Apologies for any spelling mistakes, english isn't my first language!)

Bumblebee

Would look at you like that exact emoji : “🤨”

The fuck you mean you can sing?

THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU CAN SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE-?

He ends up loving it and even vibes a little, tapping his feet on the beat

Still confused about the meaning of the song

He asks you so many questions when you finish singing, since when you started learning the language, what does it mean, blablah.

You explain to him you were born and raised in Mexico, your parents would always talk to you in Spanish. You learned english by yourself when you changed country.

He's actually amazed at how good you speak both languages

He still hasn't forgotten about the meaning tho.

He begs you to know, but you don't give in, and let it as a mystery, because you're just silly like that. :b

Optimus Prime

If I had to also use an Emoji for his expression, it'll probably be : “😲”

He didn't expect you to sing at all, considering how shy you are

He even less expected you to sing WELL.

Not to complain.

He thinks your voice is very soft and even if he isn't too found of music in general, this one sounds strangely soft and optimistic.

Is it because you sing it? Maybe

It took him a few seconds to realize that if he wasn't understanding what you were saying wasn't because you were stumbling on your words, but because you were speaking another language.

He's very gently surprised by that fact, it makes him smile.

Not only because it only makes you look smarter to him, but also because he realizes you two are similar, both talking multiple languages.

He softly asks you what it means, not pushing too far.

He looks at you SO SOFTLY you cannot bring yourself to say no

You explain to him it's a love song, and he tries his best to fight the need to give in and kiss you. (He's a cutie patootie real no fake)

Starscream

Judges you at first. I'm not sorry.

Like why did you randomly start singing??

Why can't you even do it in THE RIGHT LANGUAGE

He seems annoyed tbh

You chuckle and tell him it's a love song, but you hold a strong bond to Spanish language

He relaxes and rolls his eyes, because he can't admit that it's actually sweet.

Thrash

You go up to him and asks him for an advice or two.

He immediately accept, staring at you like, bro/gurl, you got his full attention.

You explain to him you want to sing a song for a person you like, with a twist. It's a love song, but in another language.

He seems both interested and curious

You start singing it to have his opinion on the vibe, and when you're done, he aggressively nods. Approved by Thrash.

He seems curious on how you know Spanish, tho..

You explain to him your story real quick, that your parents come from Mexico but you changed country. You know the language by them.

He's amazed. You're such a cool person.

Will ask you a full translation of the lyrics!!

Twitch

You find her completing the chores to earn stars, she seems so focused and flying everywhere, it's hard to get her attention.

You have to tell her you'll give her your star if she helps you out.

It didn't take a lot more for her to sit on the floor, focused on what you're about to say. (Make it quick, her adhd head isn't going to hold for long :3)

You explain to her you want to impress your crush by using the little things you know the best.

Singing, and your ability to speak another language.

She immediately agrees, it's sweet and unique!!

She doesn't ask any questions and just tells you to go for it, like what are you waiting for??

Don't forget her star. :3

[imawkwardlysoc]

"only bought this dress so you could take it off"

Song: Dress by Taylor Swift

Pairing: bob floyd x reader (afab)

Warning(s): Allusions to smut (not written) & Aftercare

Word Count: 1,913

Summary: Y/N had just moved to Miramar and was invited to the Navy Ball in San Diego by her roommate. Soon when the both of them arrived, Y/N was met with a face she hasn't seen in a long time.

Backing away from the full length mirror, I admired the dress I picked out a few days ago. The muted gold beaded dress hugged my waist in all the right ways. With it being off the shoulder and a sweetheart neckline, it showed the right amount of chest without it being too scandalous.

“Wow, you look amazing.” I looked over to see my roommate, Natasha, entering my room.

“Are you sure? I mean is this appropriate for a naval ball?” I turned to face her.

“Yes, all heads will turn to you when you enter the ballroom,” she reassured me. “Who knows? Maybe a navy man will approach you and you end up going on a date with him, but if it’s Hangman, straight up reject him.”

I laughed at what she said. “Nat, I just moved here two weeks ago, I’m not looking for a relationship yet.”

Ever since I moved to San Diego two weeks ago, I’ve been more focused on my teaching job. I work at the local high school near a navy base as a science teacher. I was hired when the school year already started so I've been catching my students up since the substitute teacher they had barely got them learning.

“Well, the Lyft is almost here, you should finish getting ready,” she told me before leaving my room.

Slipping on a pair of gold heels, I grabbed my clutch and double checked the inside to see if I had all of the things I needed. Closing it, I walked out of my room and walked out of the house with Natasha after she locked the front door. Getting into the car, our driver started to drive us to the US Grant hotel.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine,” Natasha squeezed my hand. “All of the Dagger Squad is going to love you.”

We soon pulled up to the hotel and saw a bunch of naval higher ups in their uniforms with their plus ones. I’m pretty sure that I also saw some politicians entering the hotel. Natasha and I soon walked in and headed to the ballroom entrance where we showed our identifications along with invites.

When we walked in, I started to feel overwhelmed. Many members of the Navy and their plus ones filled the room while a live band played music.

“Oh, I see them!” Natasha started to drag me to where her friends were. “Guys, meet Y/N.”

I was soon met with two dark skinned men, one with a buzzcut, another one with a somewhat porno mustache, and one who looked like a real life Ken doll. She soon started to introduce me to them with their actual names and call signs. More of the members came and I was introduced to them along with her captain and his husband.

“Guess who finally showed up,” Jake announced. “How long does it take to get a soda?”

“Y/N, meet-” I looked over to see who came and I froze.

“Robbie?” His name fell out of my mouth.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He asked.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I walked up and hugged him.

“It has.” He returned my hug.

“Wait, is this the Robbie you told me about?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded my head.

“Are we missing something here?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, did you and Baby on Board used to have a thing or?” Jake asked.

“Baby on Board?” A confused look formed on my face when I heard the name he gave Robbie.

“No, we used to be childhood friends back in North Carolina,” Robbie explained.

“Yeah we’ve lived in the same neighborhood until I had to move to Arizona because my dad got a new job,” I nodded and pointed to Natasha. “That’s where I met Natasha.”

“And we’ve been inseparable until we had to leave for college.” Nat wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It took me some convincing to get her to move down here.”

“Well, I had to finish both of my masters,” I told her.

“Two masters?” Admiral Kazansky raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, one in mechanical engineering and one in physics, but I also have a teaching credential for physics.” I smiled proudly.

“Do you mind if we continue this conversation while I get myself another drink?” The admiral asked me.

“I don’t mind at all Admiral,” I answered while linking arms with him.

While on our walk to the bar, he started asking me questions about my studies and why I double majored. I also talked about my time studying my undergrad at Cal Poly and getting my masters/teaching credential at the University of San Francisco. 

Throughout our conversation, I glanced at the other side of the room to see Robbie talking to some of his squadron members. We would send each other a smile if we made eye contact with each other.

Soon a familiar tune filled my ears and the room. Placing my drink down on the bar, I faced the admiral.

“Excuse me sir, but I have to do something,” I excused sir.

“It’s no problem, also call me Tom.” He smiled and I nodded my head.

Hurrying myself to the other side of the room, I made my way to where Robbie was. When I saw him leaning against the wall as he listened to his friends, a smile came onto our faces as lyrics started to echo through the room. Handing his drink to Ruben, I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the dance floor as Come On Eileen played. (A/N I just imagine the dance scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower) We started to do the dance routine that we created when we were kids whenever this song played through the stereo. We continued to dance to the song and sang out the lyrics.

“Wow, it’s been a while since we last did that,” I caught my breath after he dipped me and we moved to a slow dancing position.

“I’m surprised that we still remember it,” he chuckled.

“After the amount of times we perform this dance in front of our families, I would be surprised if we don't remember the moves,” I looked up at him.

He still had the same face from what I remembered as a little kid, but it was more defined. He was still the shy and reserved kid that I knew of as I grew up.

“Hey, wanna head out?” He whispered in my ear which sent chills down my spine.

“Sure,” I agreed.

He led me off the dance floor and went to his squad.

“It’s been great meeting you all. I hope we get to see each other again,” I told everyone.

They all said their goodbyes and Robbie and I left the hotel ballroom. As Robbie and I waited for the valet to bring his wrangler around, I felt him put his coat over my shoulders and wrapped his arm around them. Leaning against him, I looked up at him and gave a smile. Soon the wrangler was pulled up and he helped me into the car. Getting into the driver’s seat, he closed the door and untied the tie he was wearing.

During the drive to Natasha and I’s house, we were sharing stories and memories from our childhood. He also explained the reason why Jake called him Baby on Board sometimes. I laughed at the stories that he had with his crew. I guess he’s glad that he’s permanently stationed here with his crew.

Pulling up in front of the house, he got out of the driver’s seat and helped me out of the car. Walking me up to the door, we stood there for a moment, waiting to see what happens next.

“Thanks for taking me home,” I thanked him.

“No problem, it’s nice seeing you again,” he smiled. “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you,” I looked down at the ground and blushed.

I soon felt his fingers touch my chin and moved my head to face him. Don’t know the reason why but I started to feel my heart begin to race as my stomach fluttered. Leaning my head in as his did, our lips touched and moved. It continued for a few more seconds as it got more passionate until we detached, looking at each other with a blush on our faces.

“Did that just?” I asked.

“Yeah, it did,” he nodded his head.

“Well, I should head in now,” I told him and grabbed my house key from my clutch.

Unlocking it, I pushed open the door and walked into the house without closing the door. I tossed my clutch on the kitchen island and started my walk down the hallway to my room. Hearing the sound of Robbie’s footsteps entering the house, I looked over my shoulder a little and gave him a wink. Entering my room, I took off my heels and started to unzip the back of my dress.

“Need help with that?” I heard Robbie’s voice enter my room.

“Please,” I answered despite me not needing any help.

Chills were sent throughout my body as I felt his breath hit my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I bit the inside of my lip as he started to place kisses down my neck. With my dress off, leaving me in my undergarments, I turned and started to kiss him as he led me to my bed.

*Aftercare*

Tangled up in my bed sheets, Robbie laid flat on his back while I laid my head on his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other drew circles on my thigh.

“Imagine if we told younger us that we’ll be in this situation,” I chuckled, looking up at him.

“I feel they would be grossed out,” he let out a laugh. “I miss this, I miss us hanging out with each other.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “It sucked that we weren’t able to keep in contact with each other.”

He nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “But hey, we got to see each other again even though it took over ten years.”

“True,” I laughed.

“I know I already said that you look beautiful but that dress on you is amazing,” he complimented me.

“Well, I should buy that dress in other colors if it makes you do this,” I smirked as I gestured to us in bed.

“Nah, anything you wear can make me feel like this,” he placed a kiss on my lips.

“This isn’t going to affect our friendship right?” I asked him.

“I already lost you once, not losing you again,” he said while pulling me closer to him.

I smiled and laid my head on his chest letting out a yawn. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

*The Morning After*

Opening my eyes, I looked over to see Robbie still sleeping. Smiling to myself and last night’s events, I quietly got out of bed and threw on his dress shirt. Walking out of my room, I walked down the hall to the kitchen to see Natasha standing there with a cup of coffee and a smirk on her face.

“So, my backseater huh?” She asked.

“Shush,” I blushed a little while pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, just saying he’s a really good guy but you already know that,” she told me.

Soon we heard footsteps revealing Robbie in his boxers and hair disheveled.

“Yeah, he really is.”

[arazialotis]

Ceilings

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: About 3700

Summary: The reader is finishing up a hunt and is hesitant to head back home. Inspired by the song Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine.

Warnings: Mild Smut, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Season 15 Spoilers

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

---

The brown spot in the corner of the ceiling held your attention. What had once been a pristine and ornate building had since fallen into a state of disrepair over the decades. The plaster moldings reminded you of art deco, and the crown cornices on the border showed a level of craftmanship barely found in today's practices. Yet, from years of neglect and lousy state budgets, necessary upkeep and repairs had long since been postponed. As a result, moldings had crumbled, cracks ran up the wall and into the ceiling like tree branches reaching for the sun, and that brown spot now grew wet with condensation as you watched it gather in the middle. The drop was near heavy enough that at any moment, it would fall. The sheriff would have to situate his trash can under it if this rain was to keep up or grow any heavier.

Dean cleared his throat and, from the matching red leather chair beside yours, nudged your knee with his, effectively breaking your concentration. A warm smile grew as he longing looked at you. His suit coordinated well with yours, navy blue and a green tie that failed to compete with his eyes. You felt a flush crawl into your cheeks, and you pinched your lips together, mixed emotions welling up.

"I still can't believe it," Sherrif Cadwell huffed, signing off on the last of his forms. "If I hadn't been there with you, seen it with my own eyes."

If you had to guess, he was younger than your typical run-ins with sheriffs, early to mid-thirties. But the optimism for growth and change for his township and the system at large clothed him in a juvenile naivety. Additionally, you couldn't deny the fact that he was attractive. His eyes shone like stars in the night sky, his nose was slightly crooked (you learned during your time on the case together) from a bar brawl he was the cause of during his college years, and his lips were full, the kind that would feel plush against your most sensitive spots. You couldn't help but squirm in your chair, but you could feel Dean take notice as his gaze traveled over you.

He continued. "Honestly, I still feel like I need to check myself into a psych ward."

Your chuckle drew his gaze from the papers. "Even after years in the business, I feel the same way. Someday I might grow used to it."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without you, Agent Steinhardt. Thank you again." He conveyed with the utmost sincerity.

Your smile filled the room full of sunshine on this rainy day. "I think we are past the pretense of FBI and aliases now."

His demeanor matched yours. "I'm not convinced. I know an X-files agent when I see one."

"If you ever do cross Mulder or Scully, put in a good word for me. But seriously though, if anything," You struggled to find the right words. "Out of the ordinary comes across your path again; the number on that business card will ring true."

"And is that number good for ordinary things as well? Say, uh, dinner or drinks before you head out of town?" He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

You looked down at your feet to conceal a blush. It wasn't the first time someone had made a pass at you on a job, but Sherrif Cadwell was the first to stir up this reaction. You took a deep breath and recomposed yourself. You could feel Dean's eyes burning against you, analyzing each move, every reaction. His finger sat against his lips, silencing himself, waiting for your response.

A pit formed in your stomach. "While I'm truly flattered, Zack," You paused, the words caught in your throat. "My heart belongs to someone else."

You looked to Dean, but he remained the same, piecing a puzzle together, trying to communicate something unspoken. Despite your interest in Sherrif Cadwell, nothing compared to the energy and the swell of your heart while looking at him.

"I understand. It wasn't my place anyways, but I knew I'd be kicking myself in the ass later if I didn't take a shot." His bashfulness and sensitivity tugged at the strings of your heart, making it even harder to turn him down. "Whoever he is better know how lucky he is."

"He knows." Dean's voice was a warm whisper that barely registered.

The sheriff stood, signifying the end of the meeting; you rose as well, the old chair groaning as you did. Zack extended his hand over his desk, and you accepted, shaking it.

"It was a pleasure." He ended.

Upon leaving his office, the single room spilled into a once grand hall with polished mosaic tiles and pillars that supported high arched ceilings. The sheriff's department was small, consisting of three other staff. Their open office was bordered by low wood paneling, separating them from the other departments this building housed; the drain commissioner, mayor, parks and recreation, to name a few.

You were at the gate that you could probably step over when Sherrif Cadwell called after you.

"Hey!" His steps were heavy as he rushed to catch you. "You forgot this."

Zack held up one of your many homemade EMF meters. It was still switched on, barely crackling static as it scanned the area. No pitches squealed, or lights flared. You took it from him, switched it off, then threw it back. He caught it with ease.

"Keep it." You instructed. "It could come in handy."

A few more thanks and pleasantries were exchanged, but eventually, you found your way to the main lobby. The rain pounded like crescendoing drums against the roof. An employee who entered the building through revolving wooden doors lowered their umbrella, shaking off the rain droplets before leaning it against a coat rack. You had lacked the foresight.

"We could just swipe that one," Dean remarked.

A faint smile accompanied the short huff of an uncomplete laugh. Not entertaining the thought further, you pushed through the revolving doors requiring more exertion than anticipated. Immediately out of the building, you were drenched. You didn't stand a chance. The marble steps lead down to the street and across to a park that might be a nice place for employees to lunch, given lighter weather. That Impala waited for you, parked just a few paces away at a meter. You looked up to the sky, blinking away the rain that fell into your eyes. You hoped for a break in the clouds, even a thin patch where the glow of the sun hinted that it still existed.

"Y/N," Dean feigned impatience, but you could hear the amusement in his voice. "Let's go."

You looked at him longingly. He was your sun and your storm.

"What?" He questioned. "What? Oh, don't get all romantic on me now. You wanna dance in the rain? This isn't a Gene Kelly movie."

Your lips pinched together, holding your breath as he stepped closer to you, his radiance not hindered in the slightest by the downpour. His begrudging attitude melted to tenderness as he took your hands in his. Goosebumps prickled up your skin as the space between you closed. And then he spun you around like a leaf dancing with the wind. Laughter finally consumed you as you ran to the Impala. The keys jingled in your hand, and the hastiness of escaping the rain caused you to fumble with the lock.

The door creaked open as you found refuge inside. Your shallow breaths quickly fogged up the windows.

"Fantastic," Dean said dryly. "This is great for the upholstery."

You shimmied out of your jacket, and Dean's sarcasm vanished at the sight of your soaked white blouse now clinging to the peaks of your breast. The sheer fabric revealed the outline of the bra underneath, yet even that barrier did not hide how the chill of the rain had affected you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him swallow a lump in his throat. You fished for your heels, throwing the shoes in the back seat along with the jacket.

"You could have said yes," Dean whispered. "To the sheriff."

You gripped the steering wheel tight, staring blankly ahead as a pit knotted in your stomach.

The words that left you were barely audible. "I didn't want to."

The car's bench squelched under your weight as you shifted, and he drew in from the passenger seat. "Why not?"

A sharpness caught in your throat. Your eyes drifted to his; every detail, from the gold hidden in the forest of his irises to the freckles that dusted his face to the faded scar just above the bow of his lips, was perfect.

Your voice caught, but it still came out in an echo. "You know why."

Dean inhaled sharply, his eyes lingered on your face, only once looking back down at your blouse. He searched for permission, and when he was met with no resistance, his hand snaked behind you and into your hair, guiding your lips to his. Although there was a hunger present, his kiss was soft like clouds. Not the clouds above currently carrying the storm, but pillowy white clouds scattered on a summer's day. A delicate moan escaped your lips and into his, craving more, to which he took every advantage of your parted mouth. The fog layered thicker onto the glass windows, and you'd have to turn on the defroster before driving away.

Your heart pounded against the cage of your chest as you parted, never wanting to end the moment. As you turned the key, the engine sputtered to life with a rumble of thunder. It sat idle, and the warm air began to erase the remnants of your breath away. But even as it became clear enough to drive, you sat unmoving. The rolling of the engine and the patter of the rain were the only sounds. Dean lounged against the passenger door; one arm outstretched on the top of the bench, the other brushing the stubble against his jaw. His boosted confidence apparent from what had been shared seconds before.

He grew impatient, waiting for your next move. "Are you heading home?"

Your sharp inhale was the only response.

He turned it over in his head. "It's late enough, and we could afford an extra night."

Your toes curled in anticipation, hoping for ulterior motives behind his statement.

By the time you arrived back at the motel, the room had been cleaned. It was a simple establishment, but the family who owned it poured their souls into keeping it welcoming and updated. The bedsheets were crisp from a recent laundering, and they smelled not like the fake cheap lilac fragrance most cleaners were filled with, but real, fresh lilacs just beginning to open on a bright spring day. The tulle curtains swayed in front of the open window. There was no fear of the world outside peering in; the motel was near vacant, and the storm would drown out any sounds from within.

From Dean's outbursts to his impulsivity, one would think that would translate to a fierce and forceful lover. Of course, he could be in the heat of the moment, but that was not his default. Instead, he was tender and giving and took his time, extending precious moments to last deep into the night.

Seeing you now, wringing your hair with a towel and the wet clothes hung to dry, he restrained himself. The only sign of hunger in his eyes, the way he drank you in, and the flick of his tongue over his lips. He closed the gap between you. Goosebumps prickled on your bare skin from the chill carried on his damp clothes. His hands hovered over your shoulders, electricity sparking in the space between.

Your hands trailed up his chest, your breath shaking as you did. Your hands reached his tie and loosened the knot before snaking it around the nape of his neck and letting it fall to the floor. Continuing their journey, your hands moved to his shoulders. A small chuckle flew from both of you as you clumsily attempted and failed to remove his jacket. He helped you along by shrugging out of it. Next were the buttons of his dress shirt that went more slowly. Dean stared down at you in admiration as you carefully undid each one.

When he was finally fully free, your breath caught gating your emotions, and you met his eyes again. Dean guided you down to the bed, and you landed gently on the down-feathered comforter. His lips showered your neck in kisses as intimate as the sweet hymns whispered from Orpheus to Eurydice. His eyelashes against your cheeks felt like wisps of the wind carrying with it the song of chickadees.

Bracing himself with one hand above your head and the other gliding against your waist to steady both of you, you granted him passage to paradise. The praises and moans were as delicate as the rest of the encounter. Attentive to every reaction and response, he composed his movements into a soothing melody. Dean took your hand in his; the other left your waist as he fisted the sheets in his palm. Your souls entwined together, locking for all eternity. The drop ceiling with beige vinyl tiles stared down at you. You squeezed your eyes shut, and your free hand drifted down to your apex to help reach release.

Long into the night, when it was over, Dean laid on his back, panting to settle both his breath and his heart. You laid on your side, intently studying the curves and angles of his body. With a final deep breath, he found balance. The sheets rustled as he turned to meet your gaze. His brow furrowed, unable to read you.

"Sweetheart. What is it?" He asked.

You couldn't muster the words and shook your head no. He drew you into him, cradling you. Safe in the cocoon of the sheets and his arms, you breathed in, trying to capture his faint scent competing with the lilac. Juniper and eucalyptus. Or was it cedar and sage? You couldn't recall and drew in deeper.

"Don't leave me." You whispered into his chest.

"Never." He promised.

---

Sunlight poured into the room. The brightness disrupted a pleasant dream. Birds chirped and splashed in the pools of puddles outside the window. Your eyes blinked open, no longer able to grasp the dream. Where Dean was supposed to be was cold and empty. The sheets crinkled as you reached over, searching for him.

Your hair was brushed aside as a peck greeted your temple from above. "Time to get up, sleepy." His voice much deeper than when he called out your name last night.

A whine was all you could conjure. You pulled the comforter over your head, hoping it would cave you into darkness and hide you from the day. You wished to stay in the relief of sleep forever. Dean's footsteps grew farther away.

"I'll head back without ya." Dean teasingly threatened.

So much for promises.

---

It was silent on the road home. There was no music, no words exchanged, only the constant rumble of the engine. The roads were eerily empty, and all that surrounded you were yellow fields of wheat and corn ready for harvest. The flatness of the plains stretched incessantly as if you were caught in an endless loop, never to arrive at your destination. The steering wheel was cold in your hands, and the Impala complained when you accelerated. Perhaps louder than normal, and it felt like you had to push harder, almost like tar had built up in the interior. She certainly needed a tune-up once you got back to the bunker. Dean stared out the passenger window, his knuckles brushing lazily over his lips, watching the rows and rows and rows of fields go by. Lost in a thought that he wasn't going to share and you wouldn't ask about.

A sign welcoming travelers to Kansas signaled the growing end to your journey. Your breath shuttered. Dean's eyes glanced at you, but you refused to acknowledge him. Like a toddler testing boundaries, he nudged your knee with his. A gesture that normally would cause a blush to rise, fondness to grow instead stirred up panic. Your knuckles grew white, gripping the steering wheel. Fifteen minutes out from Lebanon, a cry escaped your lips. Dean saw then tears had started to stream down your face. You pinched your mouth closed, ashamed of losing control. Dean shifted towards you, his arm resting over the bench. His hand drew up your neck to the base of your head, massaging small circles.

"Shhh." He cooed. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." He repeated the mantra to calm you.

You finally broke on your way through town—the whimpering and shaking breaths held back for no one. Dean held the nape of your neck in his hand but had ceased movement, staring ahead as you drove closer to the bunker, praying you could maintain control of the Impala despite your state. He could no longer provide you comfort.

Pulling into the garage, you parked the car but didn't have the strength to shut it off. So it sat there running idle. Your growing pain manifested into sobs and wails. Dean pulled you in, his arms wrapping around you. You clung to his shirt as if he would vanish at any moment.

"I can't do this without you." You sobbed into nothingness.

He pulled you back, his eyes raking over you almost to see if you had been injured. "What are you talking about? I'm right here, Y/N. I will always be right here."

He placed his hand over your heart as if taking pulse and then against your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning against his soft touch. His thumb brushed away a tear from your cheek, but more kept coming. His soft lips hovered over yours, but the taste of the bitter ocean was too distracting to claim the solace he offered.

The Impala sighed as she was granted permission to rest. The engine clattered as it began to cool. You curled into yourself, lying on the bench with your knees tucked into your chest. Her tin roof sheltered you, and the tan upholstery above yearned to blanket you, for she too, wept.

---

Miracle was under the table in the library, curled up around Sam's feet as he typed away on his laptop, consulting a few reference books now and then. Aside from the clicking of the computer keys, the bunker was silent. Sam's hair was tied back in a half-bun, a new style for him, but it concealed the unkemptness better. His tired eyes checked the cell phone, scrolling to your number but hesitating not to let worry get the best of him.

Miracle's ears perked up, and his collar jingled as he lifted his head, catching the sound of a door that opened as silently as possible, like an intruder not wanting to get caught. A whisper between a bark and a ruff huffed out as he alerted Sam of the sound of friend or foe; to Miracle, it was still to be determined.

Sam reached down and scratched behind Miracle's ear reassuringly. "Who is it, boy?" He exaggerated the enthusiasm of his voice. "Go get her."

Miracle barked louder this time as he stood, his tail half wagging. Sam continued to encourage him along. The clatter of claws echoed against the concrete as Miracle finally took the initiative to investigate for himself. Sam waited for you and Miracle to return to the library, and he waited some more, but soon he found himself wandering the halls, hoping to check up on you.

You stood on the threshold of your old room. Everything was in place just as Dean had left it. The bed was neatly made, the weaponry displayed on the mantel, and the few touches you added. You couldn't bear to remove your items from the room but couldn't bear to sleep there either. Miracle sat patiently at your side, his tail thumping against the ground. He pawed at your leg, and you half-heartedly ran your fingers over his soft fur. Miracle nudged you further, hoping for more effort, but was happy to receive any amount of attention. Your duffle fell at your side; unpacking would halve to wait until tomorrow. All that had happened in this room replayed in your memory.

"Hey," Sam called from down the hall. You had been near radio-silent; he was anxious for an update, but more importantly, how you were holding up. "How'd the hunt turn out?

When he reached you, his brow furrowed, and his features dropped. Your eyes were red, and your cheeks were puffy. Even without the sniffle topping it off, it was obvious you had been crying.

"What happened?" He asked. "Are you hurt?"

The levees you had forced up to walk back in here broke yet again. So many tears had been wept it was impossible to believe more would come, but they did. They poured out.

"Oh, Y/N," Sam's voice shuttered.

He grabbed you by the arm, forcing you against himself. His solid frame anchored you and held you so tightly it almost hurt. Sam was the only rock you had left to stand against the pounding waves. Your cries of anguish muffled into his flannel. Sam had thought he, too, had run out of tears to cry, yet holding you in your shared pain caused his eyes to well up. He tucked your head under his chin, hoping to provide you comfort, and protection, and peace like a hen gathering chicks under her wings. For what seemed like an eternity, you held each other there, sharing and spilling tears until you were too exhausted to shed any more.

Your voice was worn and hoarse, but you had to ask, desperate for a ray of hope. "Will it ever stop hurting?"

Sam sighed. "I don't know." He answered honestly.

And you didn't even know if you wanted it to. The pain, the loss, the grief, it made Dean real. It meant your time together on this earth had meant something. And the memories, the visions, imaging he was still with you, though they burned, they let him live on.

You buried yourself further into Sam. "I miss him so much."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too."

---

[marshmallowgoop]

2024 AMV Review

[2022] [2023]

2024 felt like a huge video editing year for me. It was characterized by three major developments:

Submitting to contests

Editing MMVs (Manga Music Videos)

Participating in timed challenges

For contests, I maybe really threw myself into the con contest scene (that is, for AMV contests that take place at conventions) after sparking a heated discussion about submitting personally captioned videos for the sake of better accessibility. An initially stressful situation ultimately became one of overwhelming support, and I've since become more involved with this part of the AMV community, which has been so kind, encouraging, and inspirational. I'm certain I wouldn't have made the strides in my editing that I feel like I made in 2024 had it not been for the community.

In fact, the last two developments on my list are purely because of the community. It was the community who pushed me into making MMVs; after signing up for an MMV exchange (check out the video Violet Skies gifted me here!), I practiced MMV-like skills with an AMV/MMV ("No Choir") and also made my first full-blown MMV in DaVinci Resolve ("15 Min Flame"), which involved thinking in a more motion graphics way and utilizing my program's 3D camera, something that maybe looks a little wild (but is sincerely less complicated than it seems!):

Incorporating more motion graphics and manga panels into my work then became almost "standard" for me. Four of the six AMVs I made for Project Org Editor (POE)—of which none are unfortunately in this reel because they remain unfinished, but you can check out a preview here—utilized a fair amount of manga as well.

And that brings me to my last development: participating in timed challenges. POE is a biennial video-editing tournament with six preliminary rounds in which participants have one week to edit a video to a theme. I took part in every round (always with a Detective Conan video because I think I'm hilarious), but it was actually my second timed challenge in the year. The first was SLICE (Short Little Iron Chef Edits), wherein participants had about four days (100 hours) to create a video set to a song from a list of songs only revealed at the start of the challenge. "If You Kill Me" was my entry, and I finished it pretty much to my satisfaction by the end of the 100 hours, so I thought I would do even better with POE.

But POE was extremely hard on me. I finished nothing, never scored above mediocre, and had a meltdown after Round 2, where I must have cried all day after submitting an entry that I hated (and won't be revising). It was my most difficult video editing experience thus far—emotionally and physically, as I sacrificed sleep to edit and wound up sick by Round 6. I really wanted to stand out and impress, but... I wasn't there yet.

And that probably describes my feelings about my AMVs in 2024 better than anything else: not there yet. There's been a lot of growth in my skills, in my eyes; there's the aforementioned MMV experience, where I practiced 3D camerawork as well as manga animation for the first time, but I've also made longer videos, utilized "Twixtor" effects ("Feel About You"), learned how to make my own VHS tapes for the ultimate VHS aesthetic ("Eyelash"), and continued to work on my pacing and compositions (even if I still have a long way to go with the pacing and even intentionally made it "worse" as an experiment once). Videos from 2022 and 2023 that I used to be so proud of almost became painful, and I'm overall much happier with everything I made in 2024.

But whenever I'd make finals in a contest—which happened at seven cons (green text in the video, with yellow being when I didn't make finals but still had a video exhibited, which happened at six cons)!—I knew I had no chance of winning a category, and I have yet to. Because I'm not there yet. I'm satisfied with most of my videos from 2024, but they don't feel special enough. Good, maybe, but not great. For POE and Anime Frontier, where I entered nothing but Detective Conan videos, I captured attention for my dedication to the franchise, but the AMVs themselves still feel lacking.

In thinking about 2025, I've been thinking about what it means to be there. I've been thinking about how to measure growth, as measuring the times I make finals, or my note counts, or YouTube likes, or even scores I get in tournaments like POE, don't seem to be healthy ways of defining development (especially when what makes finals at cons might not really correlate with what's most beloved online, with "If You Kill Me" being my most successful con video of 2024 but "Nosedive," which never made finals once, being my most successful video on the web). Conversations with others (thank you!) have provided a wealth of wonderful suggestions for considering growth: trying new things, doing easily what used to be difficult, finding joy in your work.

And in 2024, I do think I made progress in all those things! But being there goes back to my question of what is good art?, and, well, I think I'll need to continue working on defining what that means to me.

Still, my major goal for 2025, at this time, is to be less hard on myself. As my videos have become longer and more elaborate, they've taken more time to complete, with each AMV in this reel (excepting maybe one) representing at least 30 hours of work, with many being 50+-hour efforts. That's a fair chunk of time, but I still beat myself up for "not doing enough" or "not completing enough videos," which isn't fair to me.

It's regrettably not something I did for 2023, but my year-end DaVinci Resolve hour count for 2024 (counting time from when I first got this computer in late August 2023) is 1,107 hours!

The earliest total-hour screenshot I can find is 666 hours in July 2024, so this means I spent, at the very, very minimum, over 441 hours in Resolve in 2024. And dedicating that many hours to improving my craft isn't nothing!

In the end, I am sad that there are only 12 videos in this reel when I at least started brainstorming and drafting for 9 more. But all the improvements I made, all the ways I challenged myself, all the seeing things like this at cons, in person, on the big screen... that's worth celebrating.

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me so far. I hope to post even "better" videos in 2025—ones that are there!

[savebylou]

There is nothing forgettable about Louis Tomlinson.

An interview of Louis that lives rent free in my mind is this one:

As Tomlinson acknowledges, in One Direction he was seen by some as “forgettable, to a certain degree”. “The others have always been… Like Niall, for example. He’s the most lovely guy in the world. Happy-go-lucky Irish, no sense of arrogance. And he’s fearless. There are times I’ve thought: ‘I’d have a bit of that.’ Zayn, back in the day. He could relate to me on a nerves level. In the first year we were both the least confident. But Zayn has a fantastic voice and for him it was always about owning that. Liam always had a good stage presence, same as Harry, they’ve both got that ownership. Harry comes across very cool. Liam’s all about getting the crowd going, doing a bit of dancing…”And then there’s you.“And then there’s me.” Louis, 2017, in the Guardian.

Since The X Factor we always saw Louis as this person full of life, humour and even he didn't got a lot of solos in the 1D albums on the live shows you could always recognize Louis' voice in the chorus.

He was all those amazing things but he had to work with people who make him feel not enough from Savan who said it was the least talented one, to that producer that Louis mentions in aotv that make him work hard to record his solo for Gotta Be You single and by the end to not put Louis in the song.

After dealing with people who didn't making him feel good enough, makes me see why the Louis of 2017 said that quote, even if he was all this wonderful things as a person and artist, he thought he was less than the other 1D boys and is just heartbreaking because he was as special as them.

Even if he was working with people in the industry that didn't believe in him, he find his place in 1D, he got involved in the songwriting process and was a voice for the band.

It can't be easy hearing for years that he is not important, but he keep believe in himself and his talent.

I think with the first tour he realise that he is enough. If you see an interview of Louis in 2019 is not the same when he did interviews in 2022 after his first tour, you can see his confidence after he witness the fanbase he has around the world.

The second tour he was even more confident and enjoy more the tour because he was performing music that he love more than the first album and he already knew how much support he had from fans.

Even after two world tours he still got nervous during the festival season, but he still did it and shine and find a new confidence in this new type of envoiroment.

7 years after that interview, we see Louis with three successful albums, two world tours, his own musical festival since 2021, a documentary, his clothing line, etc. All of this achievmentes he has done with not a lot of promo and not a lot of support on radio and media. He has create his own path in an industry that has always understimated him.

The more confident Louis is and the more popularity he gets it makes it possible for him to make new projects. Is just facintaing to see the different things he has created, he sees music and art in different ways where he wants to be involved with and keep creating, collaborating, supporting new artists. He brings so many layers of him as an artist.

I'm just so proud and happy of Louis and how confident he is in himself, it took a long time to get to this point, but he did it and he will keep growing as an artist and I think his fanbase will do the same because his music is powerful and special. The sky is the limit for Louis.

There is nothing forgettable about Louis, he is talented, creative, inteligent, funny, joyful, just a beautiful person inside and out. I hope he knows this, because one you start learning about Louis the least you will want is to forget about him, you want to keep his music, words, and smile in your heart and mind for your lifetime.

I write this since the 14.08.23 and I had really struggle to finish this post, because there are not enough words to explain how amazing and special Louis is and I'm just thankful to whitness his grow as an artist and see him shine with every thing he does.

Louis deserves the world, he is a beautiful person, a talented artist and I will always wish he achieves everything he dreams of because he deserves that and so much more.

We are lucky to have someone like Louis and I'm so grateful that we are celebrating one more year of Louis. Happy birthday Louis.

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - Track 01 - It's Good to See You

Summary: What if it wasn't the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky's story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

STORY PAGE

Track 01 Word Count: 4.1k+

Read The Entertainer

November 25, 1981

“Ooh the wheel in the sky keeps on turning I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow”

I felt my heart race as I turned my focus back to Steve Perry singing on the stage. My mouth suddenly felt dry, my palms clammy.

It can’t be him, I thought to myself. No. No, it’s not. Just someone who sort of looks like…

I hadn’t seen him in five years. Sure, I’d seen his face - on the television, in all the rock magazines I bought, on the back cover of all three of Wildfire’s albums...and sometimes in my dreams. But I hadn’t seen him in person since that day at the airport when I’d hugged him goodbye and wished him well.

When I’d told him I loved him.

I tried to pay attention to the band in front of me, the one I’d come to see. Journey’s newest album Escape was my current favorite, so when I received a raise at my job, I rewarded myself with a concert ticket to their fourth sold-out show at The Forum, the night before Thanksgiving. Halo had been disappointed she couldn’t make it, but she’d already promised her family she’d visit them for the entire week, so I was attending alone.

I wished Halo was with me right then however, so she could be an extra set of eyes and let me know if that cute guy a couple of sections over was who I thought it was. Instead, I snuck another peek of my own. It was dark in the arena, so I couldn’t get a good look, but his hair and profile fit the memory I had in my head.

Who was I kidding? It couldn’t be him. He was probably overseas in London or some exotic place I’d never heard of. I’d learned that Wildfire broke up earlier that year, so most likely he was resting somewhere - anywhere but Los Angeles. Still…

One more sneaky look out of the corner of my eye, but someone was blocking my view. With a sigh, I listened to Steve finish the song before the band gave their fake goodbyes, and I waited with the rest of the crowd for their encore.

The audience went wild during Journey’s last two songs, and their enthusiasm returned my focus to the reason I’d come. By the time the lights came on in the arena, I’d just about forgotten about him, or whomever the mystery man had been.

That is, until I turned the corner in the hallway after leaving the restroom.

“Sky?”

The sound of my nickname in a crowd full of strangers was odd enough, but the familiar voice threw me for a loop and back in time five years. Turning slowly, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me again, but when his handsome face came into view, my thoughts were confirmed.

It was him. And he was standing right in front of me.

“Harry,” I barely breathed.

His chest rose and fell with his own breath as his lips grew into a smile.

“It is you,” he declared with what sounded like relief. “I thought it was and...it is.”

I shrugged shyly. “It’s me.”

Those two seconds were enough to make me forget about the commotion around us, but when someone nearly knocked me into Harry, with barely an “excuse me”, he suggested we step to the side.

“You look wonderful,” he remarked when I took my place against the wall, his gaze leaving my eyes momentarily to shift down my body and back up again.

“Thanks. So do you.”

And he did. He hadn’t changed at all. Maybe...a tiny bit. His hair was still long, if only an inch or so shorter than before. The chocolate curls still brushed his shoulders the way they had five years ago, though they appeared a bit fuller. His jaw lines seemed to be a little more defined, the sharp edges peeking from behind his stubble. The only real difference was probably his choice of clothing, though it didn’t stray too far from the style I’d known him to wear. His long legs were clad in jeans, and boots adorned his feet like before, but he wore a more conservative tan v-neck sweater underneath a brown leather bomber jacket, both of which I decided were very sexy on him. I caught sight of the familiar cross that lay in the center of his chest just before my eyes locked with his once again.

He seemed to stare at me for a few seconds, his dimples slowly disappearing from his cheeks as his lips relaxed until he finally opened his arms and stepped forward, surprising me with an embrace.

“It’s good to see you,” I heard him murmur in my hair.

“You, too,” I replied, his old, familiar scent suddenly overwhelming my senses. I bit my lip to keep the emotions at bay.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, stepping back to look at me again, his hands still grazing my elbows.

“Not bad, I-” I began when I finally noticed the man standing a few feet behind him. He was leaning against a post, probably trying to look inconspicuous, but I figured quickly that he must have been security. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Harry Styles had been a successful front man for the last several years. He was practically a household name.

“Did you come alone?” I heard him ask before I could finish my previous answer.

“Sorry?” I blinked, catching his gaze again.

“To the show? Are you here alone...or did Halo come with?”

“Oh,” I grinned, pleased that he remembered my best friend’s name as well. “No, I’m flying solo tonight.”

A gentle smile spread across his face again, and I thought he was about to ask me something else when I heard a loud gasp behind me.

“Oh my God. You’re Harry Styles!” a woman’s voice squealed.

“Yes, I am,” he nodded.

A tall, slim figure with fiery red hair and the tightest Jordache jeans I’d ever seen walked around me and stood between us as though I wasn’t even there. 

“I have to get your autograph!” she exclaimed.

As she rummaged through her small, yet obviously filled pocketbook, Harry eyed me over her head.

“Don’t leave yet, okay?” he mouthed.

With a nod, I felt my insides flip. He wanted me to stay. While my heart was bursting with the joy of seeing him again, it was all so sudden; I hadn’t really had a chance to process it yet. I caught the twinkle in Harry’s eye as he shrugged at me while he waited for the woman to retrieve a pen from her purse.

“Sorry, honey, I know I have some paper in here somewhere,” she announced

“Take your time,” Harry said genuinely.

I wondered how he could remain so calm and patient. I was already keen on dumping out the contents of her bag onto the dirty floor, and it had barely been twenty seconds.

“Aha!” she called, holding up a mini notepad with a kitten on the front. “Here it is!”

Giving her another winning smile, Harry took the pen and pad from her.

“What’s your name, love?” he asked her, and immediately I saw her beam at him as she jutted her tits out.

Damn him. Why did he have to be so charming?

“Kitty,” the woman replied. I nearly choked.

“Seriously?” Harry chuckled.

“Mmhm,” nodded the redhead. “Like a kitty cat. Meow.”

I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater to keep from laughing as I watched Harry sign Kitty’s little kitten notebook, his eyebrows raised to the ceiling and a goofy look on his face.

“What are you doing after this?” I heard Kitty inquire. “Maybe we could grab a drink or something.”

Although I thought I might vomit, Harry didn’t miss a beat.

“Sorry love, can’t tonight. I’m headed out after this.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Kitty pouted.

“Here you go,” Harry offered, returning the woman’s pen and notebook. “Nice to meet you, Kitty. Have a lovely evening.”

I had to hand it to him. He was definitely a pro at this.

“You too, handsome,” Kitty winked before strutting off with a wave. “Bye bye.”

I noticed the man behind Harry stood up straight from the post he’d been leaning on to watch Ms. Tight Jeans walk away, though it was unclear if it was for security or personal reasons. Before I could ask, Harry stepped closer to me.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “It happens from time to time.”

“I’m sure it does,” I grinned.

Just then, the man tapped Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, sorry man, but we gotta get goin’.”

“Shit,” Harry groaned. “Just...a gimme a sec, Stu, she’s...an old friend. And I got sidetracked by a fan.”

Stu narrowed his eyes before he nodded and held up two fingers like he was giving a peace sign. “Two minutes.”

Harry grimaced as he turned back to me. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I muttered.

“No, it’s not,” he replied hurriedly. “I didn’t expect to run into you, and...I wasn’t thinking straight, and now I’ve got two bloody minutes to talk to you after…”

“The ginger catwoman?” I offered.

Harry giggled, adorable crinkles forming next to his eyes. “Yeah.”

With a feeling of warmth inside down to my toes, I smiled. “How are you, Harry?”

“I’m...doing well, thanks. How about you?”

“You already asked me. It’s your turn. With probably closer to a minute left now.”

With a sigh, Harry tilted his head. “I’ve missed you. You might not believe it, but I have.”

I wasn’t exactly sure if I believed it; he had millions of adoring fans, girls flocking to him at any given moment. He probably hadn’t given me much of a thought. But it was still nice to hear.

“Hey, what am I thinking?” Harry shook his head. “I’m in town for a few weeks. Let’s get together and catch up!”

“Oh. Okay,” I replied, the butterflies resuming their dance in my tummy.

“Do you still live in the same place?”

I chuckled. Five years might not have been an extremely long stretch of time, but a lot had happened. Remembering that apartment I’d shared with Halo felt like eons ago.

“No,” I shook my head. “Halo and I each have our own apartments now. In fact, we’ve both moved a couple of times since then.”

“Oh,” Harry grinned as he scratched his head. “Yeah, I reckon it has been a while.”

“I’ll give you my new number,” I said.

Unfortunately, unlike Kitty, I didn’t carry around my own notepad. But I did have a pen and my ticket stub. Gesturing for Harry to turn around, I used his back for a surface to write on. When I handed him the stub, he glared at me questioningly.

“You could have just written it on my hand,” he smirked. “You might wanna keep this.”

I shrugged, both of us beginning to laugh as we noticed the song that had begun to play in the hallway.

“Call me, on the line Call me, call me any, anytime”

“That’s so funny,” I giggled.

“It’s like it was meant to be,” Harry agreed, his smile sending shivers down my spine.

Stu returned sternly then, his hand slapping Harry’s shoulder and ending our reunion as sharply as the breaking of a mirror.

“Gotta go, buddy,” he said.

“I’ll call you, Sky,” Harry promised. “We definitely need to catch up.”

“Okay,” I nodded, grasping the strap of my shoulder bag, unable to think of anything else to say.

Just as he was about to turn to leave with Stu, Harry stopped and looked at me for a split second. Then erasing the space between us, he pulled me into another hug. And just as quickly, he let go and was gone.

“Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day...”

Locking the door behind me and hooking the latch, I shrugged out of my jacket with a sigh, dropping it across the back of a chair. It had been a long, fulfilling Thanksgiving with my parents, but I was glad to be home. Turning on the radio, I made my way to the bathroom where I prepared a much-needed bubble bath for myself. Stepping into the suds, I sang along to Smokey Robinson.

“You’re gonna fly away, glad you’re goin’ my way I love it when we’re cruisin’ together”

Shutting my eyes, I let the melody, Smokey’s voice and the aroma of the bubble bath soothe me into complete bliss. The sudden abrasive ringing of the telephone startled me, however, and I sat up in the tub, wondering if I had enough time to get up and answer it. But I was so comfortable where I was, and I figured the caller would just call again if it was urgent. When the rings stopped after number four, I sat back and shut my eyes again.

“Let the music take your mind…”

My mind wandered to the night before when I’d run into Harry. I wondered if it had been him calling, and for a second I felt disappointed. But I told myself it probably wasn’t him. He’d said he’d call, but I hadn’t expected him to call me so soon. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really expect to hear from him at all.

I only hoped I would.

After listening to a couple more songs, I washed up and drained the tub. Quickly drying off, I headed for my bedroom, grabbed my robe from behind the closet door and slipped into it. Rick Springfield began to serenade me then, confessing his desire to have Jessie’s Girl as I padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. The phone rang again as I swallowed, the liquid suddenly feeling like a rock going down my throat. What if it was him? I stared at the receiver hanging on the wall as it rang a second time, and I slowly set my glass on the counter and reached for the radio knob, lowering the volume. Finally answering on the third ring, I felt fourteen-year-old jitters, like a girl getting her first phone call from a boy.

“Hello?” It came out more like a squeak than I’d wanted it to.

“Hi.” Only one, short word was spoken for his greeting, but it didn’t matter. I knew who it was.

“Hi,” I echoed as I slowly sat down in the kitchen chair.

“Sorry it’s so late. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, not at all,” I said. “I just got home a little while ago. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Happy Thanksgiving.”

I giggled, grateful for the good wishes of an American holiday. “Thanks. Did you do anything today?”

“I did, actually,” Harry replied. “Had a lovely dinner with the Azoffs. Turkey and everything.”

“Oh, Mr. Irving!” I exclaimed. “I miss him. How is he?”

“He’s great,” Harry chuckled. “Same ol’ Irving. What about you? How was your day?”

“Good,” I sighed. “Dinner with my parents as usual. Ate too much. As usual.”

“Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is for though?”

“I suppose so,” I grinned. “Especially if it includes my mom’s sweet potatoes.”

“Ah, with the marshmallows on top?”

“You bet.”

Harry laughed again, and I felt that familiar tingle on my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“So, I promised I’d ring you…”

“And you did,” I finished.

“Are you surprised?”

“A little.”

“Why’s that?”

Letting a breath out of my nose, I let the phone cord wrap around my finger. “Well...Harry...it’s been five years. It’s not like we’ve been in touch the whole time, or even at all. Not…” I swallowed hard, “not even one phone call.”

“I’m deeply sorry about that.”

“It’s not that I expected you to keep in touch, you know,” I continued. “When you left, I knew it was probably forever. I wanted you to go be whoever you wanted to be. And you did, and...I’m still very proud of you.”

“I appreciate that, Sky. But I do apologize for not keeping in touch. It’s been...a crazy ride.”

“I understand,” I said, though I didn’t really. “But enough about that. You said you wanted to catch up, so…”

“Yeah, I definitely do,” remarked Harry. “There’s a lot to talk about, though, and I don’t wanna keep you up.”

“It’s okay. I’m off tomorrow and I have no plans but to sleep in. So where should we start? I heard about the band. Are you...doing okay?”

I didn’t know the details of the break up, so I didn’t want to pry too much.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine,” said Harry. “Great even.”

“Are you guys still talking, or is there some animosity?”

“There wasn’t a big fight or anything,” Harry replied. “But yeah, maybe a little bit of tension. We just decided to go our separate ways. Deacon moved back to London. Lee’s girlfriend is having a baby and they’re getting married. So it’s basically just Mitch and me now. He’s with family for the holidays, and I’m just hanging out in L.A. for a bit. Irving and I are talking about a solo project.”

“Solo? Wow, Harry, that’s exciting! Will Mitch still be in your band?”

“I dunno for sure yet, but probably. I haven’t had much of a chance to discuss it with him. It’s still in the beginning stages, so I can’t say too much about it yet.”

“Of course, I understand,” I acknowledged. ���Well, whatever you do, I know it will be fantastic.”

“Thanks, Sky,” he said with a grin in his voice.

I chuckled. “It’s so funny to hear you call me that.”

“Why? Are you not Sky anymore?”

“Only to Halo,” I replied. “No one else calls me Sky nowadays.”

“Oh. So you reclaimed Mary Lou, did you?”

“Nope. Just Mary to most people. That’s what I go by at work anyway. Only my mom calls me Mary Lou when she thinks she’s scolding me.”

Harry’s laugh rang through the phone, the sound making me feel nostalgic and lonely at the same time. I’d missed him more that I’d been willing to admit.

“Well, am I allowed to call you Sky?” he asked.

“Sure. If you want to.”

“Yeah. You’ll always be Sky to me. ‘Like the colour of the sky just before the rain.’”

My throat made an involuntary gulping sound as I realized I was holding back emotions. “I...can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do, love. I remember a lot of things.”

Trying my best to push down the feelings rising in my chest, I gave a short chuckle. “Like what?”

“Like...the Joni Mitchell song you sang for me. Sleeping on your sofa. The night at the Holiday Inn.”

Goosebumps erupted all over my skin, even on my scalp, and I felt like I was floating. He remembered. Which meant...he’d probably thought about me before.

“And there’s my guitar, of course,” he added. “The acoustic Martin that I play sometimes. You were with me when I bought it.”

“I’m so glad you still have it,” I smiled.

“Well, it’s a great guitar,” Harry declared with a laugh. Then I heard him sigh before he spoke again. “So tell me about you, Sky. What has...Mary Jones been doing the last five years?”

I bit my lip as I rose from my chair, deciding to make a cup of cocoa. The radio still played low, like the background soundtrack from a movie scene. As if on cue, I heard the beginning chords of a familiar song, one from Wildfire’s second album. It had been one of my favorites and one of their biggest hits. I felt a ping of disappointment that I hadn’t been in touch with Harry at that time, and a bit of regret that I hadn’t made a point to see him on tour when he’d come to L.A. that year. But I just couldn’t. I hadn’t really known why, and despite Halo telling me I wasn’t over him yet, I’d sworn that I was.

But maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I was afraid that he wouldn’t want to talk to me, the way he was talking to me now. Or worse, that he wouldn’t remember me at all.

“I um...I work for an insurance company,” I explained, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. “In an office. Nothing fancy or exciting.”

“Well, that’s great. And you have your own place?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing fancy either, but it’s mine.”

“Wonderful. Do you still play guitar and sing?”

“I do,” I replied. “But not as much as I’d like to. Work gets in the way, you know? Life.”

Harry chuckled low. “That’s too bad. I really hope you stick with it. You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, grateful that he couldn’t see the red on my face.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

His question rang in my ears for several seconds as I waited for the water to boil. I thought fleetingly of Bill, a man one of my co-workers, Donna, had set me up with the weekend before last. While he’d been nice enough, there’d been no chemistry. That had seemed to be the normal pattern for most of my dating history. With the exception of Alan, whom I’d seen for a few months in 1980, I hadn’t had any serious relationships.

“No,” I finally replied, pouring the water into the mug.

“Oh. Well good, I reckoned I’d make sure before I asked you to dinner tomorrow night.”

I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “You were gonna ask me out?”

“Yeah, well...if you want to. I know it’s getting late and...I’d really like to see you again. I still have loads to tell you, but I’d like to do it in person. We could catch up some more. And I’d love to see your place...if that’s okay.”

“I think...that’s more than okay,” I managed to say, somewhat surprising myself.

I actually heard him sigh like he was relieved before he said, “Great.”

After giving him my address, we chatted lightly until saying our goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow, Sky. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Me too. Goodnight, Harry.”

My cheeks felt pinched from smiling, my face warm as I returned the phone to the wall. Time was a funny thing, I thought. It had taken me a long time to get over Harry Styles. Even when I’d thought I was, the memory of him had always lingered. Not hate or bitterness, just...longing. And then out of the blue, seeing and talking to him again...it was as though time had erased everything in between. The feelings I’d had for him all those years ago had returned in just a short telephone conversation.

I heard a slow song begin to play on the radio, and I turned up the volume as I grabbed my mug and sat back down at the table. The words hit me hard like a thunderclap through my chest.

“Hello again, hello Just called to say hello…”

Staring at the wall, every single memory of Harry replayed in my mind as tears streamed down my face. I remembered everything he’d mentioned earlier and more. I remembered dancing in my room to the old Buddy Holly record, and the way his lips felt when he’d first kissed me. I remembered the way my heart broke in two when I’d thought he was in his room with Pippa, and the way his green eyes silently spoke to me when we’d made love. I recalled the way his arms felt around me, the sound of his voice saying my real name, his laugh when I’d said something funny, the look on his face when I’d told him I loved him. I remembered the way he owned the stage in that honky tonk in Chula Vista, the way he’d cried the night he told me about Simon, his ecstatic voice when he’d called me to tell me Wildfire’s album had gone gold, and the photos that I hadn’t realized until later he’d taken of me with my camera - the same ones that still laid in the bottom of my nightstand. I hadn’t actually forgotten any of it. I’d only stored it all in the back of my brain for safe keeping.

“And I know it’s late But I couldn’t wait...hello”

By the end of the song, my cocoa was cold, and I cursed Neil Diamond for making me bawl. But it was what I’d needed. I hadn’t cried over Harry in years.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered to no one.

Then rising from the table, I poured the cold cocoa down the drain and turned off the radio. Perhaps tomorrow I could tell him in person.

Songs mentioned:

Journey - Wheel in the Sky

Blondie - Call Me

Smokey Robinson - Cruisin'

Rick Springfield - Jessie's Girl

Neil Diamond - Hello Again

How did you like this little reunion? Let's chat!

As always, feedback and reblogs are appreciated :).

tagging: @daphnesutton, @fkinavocado

[freyasilverbough]

The Cave Bear and the White Wolf - the Road to Moonrise Towers

Cw for blood, burns, bruises, canon typical violence, discussions of PTSD and survivor’s guilt

This installment briefly covers the tiefling party, the crèche, and Grymforge. I’m treating it like a prequel of sorts, since all the good stuff happens in act 2 😌 also pls enjoy some hurt/comfort content towards the end

Halsin had just finished his conversation with Zevlor when he noticed that a certain silver haired warrior was nowhere to be found. The hero of the hour seemed to be ditching her own party.

The wizard - Gale, he’d learned - stumbled a bit drunkenly to Halsin’s side. “If you’re looking for Freya, she’s sulking by the pond.” The human considered his next words for a moment before he continued. “She’s a bit prickly, but there’s a heart of gold lurking beneath that stern countenance. You should see her with the tiefling kids.”

“What do you know of her?” Halsin asked him. He’d been plagued by morbid curiosity since he returned from the goblin camp and set about his business in the grove. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, and it irked him more than he’d like to admit.

“Next to nothing,” the wizard admitted. “Selûnite, that much is obvious with the way she and Shadowheart argue. She hasn’t said, but her magic is a paladin’s. Other than that, it’s all a mystery. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, and she is quite the closed book.”

A paladin of Selûne. Halsin had guessed before that she was a follower of the Moonmaiden, but the depth of her devotion surprised him. From what little he knew of them, a paladin’s oath was the most sacred promise, and so powerful that it imbued their very souls with oathbound magic. Her near refusal to travel to Moonrise Towers was starting to make more sense. The curse that choked that land was the work of Shar, Selûne’s twin and foe.

“Anyway, pardon the pun, but I wouldn’t go poking that bear if I were you. Freya took off with a bottle of whiskey and a rancid attitude. Best to keep out of her way, if you ask me.” Gale stumbled back to his tent as Halsin considered his warning. There were few things in all the realms too strong for him, and someone ought to make sure she hadn’t drowned herself in the pond.

Halsin found her in a secluded spot on the shore, sitting against a tree. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her elbows rested on them, a half empty bottle of liquor in one hand and a ball of silver light floating above the other. She seemed relaxed, more peaceful than he’d seen her all day. Stripped of her armor and cleaned of the blood that stained her hair and face previously, she was just a woman. A woman who embodied the very moon, no doubt. The muscles in her arms and shoulders were on full display in her sleeveless shirt, and her tight pants showcased her powerful legs. Her body was a weapon in itself, and he couldn’t deny that she was radiant in the moonlight.

Something deep within him stirred, feelings that he’d suppressed for the longest time. How long had it been since he’d last taken a lover, he wondered. The shadow curse had consumed his thoughts for the last hundred years, he refused to let himself become distracted for all that time.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare, or did you need something, druid?” Freya’s voice cut through his thoughts like a hot knife in butter. She took another swig from her bottle and held it out in offering to him. Halsin chuckled to himself as he crossed the space between them to sit with her at her side.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. Before you know it I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on,” he politely refused her offer as she let out a sharp laugh.

“I fail to see the problem,” she joked.

“Then you have never heard my singing, which makes you very fortunate.” He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face at their banter. They sat in easy silence for a long moment before Halsin spoke once more, his voice turning solemn. “You’ve seen the ravages of the curse, I gather.” She stiffened at his observation, and took another drink. “I don’t mean to upset you, forgive me. It has just been…a very long time since another soul around me understood.”

Freya fiddled with the orb of light dancing around her fingers for a while. Her blue eyes turned contemplative, as if considering whether to confide in him. “I was there the day Moonrise fell. Don’t ask me to speak of it,” she answered, her voice firm but full of sorrow. “Do me a favor, would you?”

“If it is within my power, consider it done.”

“If I fall in that place, don’t hesitate. Burn my body until I’m ashes on the wind.” She sucked in a deep breath, then extinguished her light as she finished her bottle and rose to stand. Clearly, she held her liquor much better than he did, as her movements remained as graceful as ever. She looked down at Halsin as she stepped past him, eyes swimming with regret and grief. “Lae’zel believes a cure can be found in a githyanki crèche nearby, we’ll start that way come morning. Then, we’ll make for Moonrise.”

————

A tenday after the goblin camp fell, the group that had gone to investigate the githyanki creche returned battered, bloodied, and bruised. Freya’s frustration was written all over her face as she stripped her armor, Lae’zel made for her tent in deflated silence, Shadowheart sported a new mace that looked like the sun itself, and Karlach just hung her head low as she approached him.

“The creche was a bust. The so called zaith’isk blew up, after it just about shredded Freya’s mind. She’s pissed, Lae’zel’s pissed, everybody’s just fucking pissed.” Halsin glanced to the paladin, who was busy untying the braids from her hair as the sun fell behind the horizon. His concern for her must have been obvious, because Karlach hurried to reassure him. “She’s fine, like I said, she’s just pissed. Maybe a bit banged up from the githyanki Inquisitor that tried to kill us, but the old noggin’s intact. For now.”

“Githyanki Inquisitor, eh?” He mused as he lifted a brow at the tiefling. She just laughed.

“Yeah, you should’ve been there, mate. Vlaakith herself showed up and tried to order Freya around. She told us to murder the person who’s been appearing in our dreams, and Freya told her that she could do it herself if she was so powerful. Funny as shit now that we’re out of there.”

Traveling with the party this last tenday had given Halsin much insight into his new companions. A vampire with a newfound ability to walk in the sun. A wizard with such ambition he now carried a weapon of mass destruction in his own chest, one that threatened to flatten the Sword Coast at any moment. A githyanki warrior devoted to her queen and deity. A warlock who made a pact with a devil to save his city. A cleric of Shar, missing all but the most essential of her memories. A tiefling with the best sense of humor and a blazing infernal engine in place of her heart.

A paladin, who would laugh in a goddess’s face and deny her order.

He glanced once more at Freya, who had stripped her gauntlets and chest plate and was now nursing a clearly injured shoulder. He’d been designated as the interim camp healer, for when they came back half dead and their magic depleted - which was actually most days, if he was being honest. Freya, however, always refused his aid. She would make him tend to her companions first, and claim that pain made her strong. She had her own healing magic, as a paladin, but she preferred to use the powers of her oath to smite her enemies rather than keep herself in one piece. Still though, Halsin persisted each time. He’d never been able to keep himself from trying to aid the wounded, it was ingrained in his very nature.

“If you do go talk to her, tread carefully,” Karlach said to him. It was an echo of the warning he’d received from Gale the night of the party, though that had gone well enough.

Halsin watched as she held her hurt shoulder and tried to kick the lid of her trunk open with her foot. A frustrated growl escaped her lips, and Halsin nodded at Karlach once before jogging over to help her. He knelt and lifted the lid as Freya glowered down at him, a usual occurrence these last days.

“What do you need?” he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. Another usual occurrence. Halsin found her snark amusing, and a relief, as it meant she was still herself. “There’s a bag in there with a poultice and some bandages. I’m too godsdamned tired to cast a spell so I need it until I can fix this arm in the morning. Don’t give me that look, the others need your magic more than I do.”

This close, he could see the bruising blossoming on her collarbone and the blood from her shoulder coating her undershirt. Her lip was split as if she’d been punched, and it briefly filled Halsin with a hot rage to picture someone hitting her. He calmed himself when he remembered she’d likely hit them harder. He rose to his feet when he found the bag she was after, but he held out his empty hand instead of giving it to her.

“I’m an Archdruid,” he reminded her softly. “There’s more than enough to go around. Come on now, you’re exhausted and you’ll rest better if you let me help.”

She relinquished her injured shoulder and quickly snatched the bag from his hand, wincing as the movement aggravated her wounds. “I’ll decide what I need, druid.” She stalked toward her tent as Karlach caught his eye with an apologetic smile. The tiefling had tried to warn him, after all.

————

Halsin was reciting his ritual in the makeshift camp they’d set up within Grymforge, the Sharran stronghold Halsin had heard tell of before. Lae’zel, Astarion, Gale, and Freya had gone out that morning to investigate the fortress, but it was hard to tell how much time had passed this deep in the Underdark without the sun to guide him.

After the incident with the githyanki, they’d quickly abandoned the mountain pass and doubled back to the Underdark. They could have reached the shadow cursed lands by an entrance near the monastery, but Freya and Halsin both agreed that the route through the Underdark offered a more direct path with less exposure to the curse.

“Oh, fuck. Hey, Halsin!” he heard Karlach call out for him, and he rushed to the sound. The party had returned, Lae’zel muttering gith curse words under her breath. Freya had one arm around Astarion’s shoulders, and the other around Gale’s, holding all of her weight on one leg. Sweat dripped down her face as her expression twisted in pain. The armor around her other leg had been removed to expose the ruined flesh beneath, and the sight made Halsin’s heart stop in his chest.

The skin on her leg was a patchwork of angry red and blistered flesh, a stark contrast to the smooth, untouched skin that surrounded it. The once graceful curve of her calf was now marred by the ugly, twisted marks of the burn, a cruel reminder of the fire that had ravaged her skin. The skin was tight and stretched, as if it was trying to contain the searing pain within her.

Halsin relieved the elf and the wizard by moving to her uninjured side and carefully lifting her in his arms. She opened her mouth in protest, but he stopped her with a sharp glare before she could speak. “We’re going to my tent, where you’re going to let me heal that leg. Unless you would prefer to be bedridden for days while it heals on its own, which I doubt.” He spoke with the authority of an Archdruid, the authority that he shed weeks before and refused to enforce until now.

Freya’s eyes flashed before clouding with suffering once more. The rest of the camp was silent as he carried her to his tent and laid her gently on his bedroll. He got to work removing her boots and the rest of her armor, stripping her until the plate was removed from her body. The metal was hot to the touch, it must have been cooking her alive.

“Fucking…lava,” she croaked out as he whispered a cantrip to cool her down. “Drow pushed me. I caught myself before I fell in, but it got my leg…fuck it’s hot.” She propped herself up on her elbows to assess the damage, and her bright sapphire eyes went wide as they landed on her mangled flesh.

“Deep breath, Freya,” he ordered her softly as he carefully laid both of his hands on her leg. Blue light radiated from him and she groaned as her skin and tissue began to mend back together. He knew that the healing process was just as difficult, if not more so, for the one being healed as it was for the healer. Halsin paused his work long enough to fill a basin with water and use his magic to cool it to near freezing. He wet a rag, and laid it across her forehead in the hope that it would bring her heated skin some comfort.

“Thank you,” she moaned in relief. He returned his hands to her leg and looked in her eyes, waiting for her consent. She nodded once, and he began his work once more. “They were keeping slaves in there,” she whispered. “The duergar would beat them for the smallest inconveniences, and the drow killed a gnome woman just for being unlucky enough to get trapped behind a rock slide with him. The drow was a ‘True Soul’ too. He carried a busted lantern full of pixie dust. I’d wager that’s how the cultists navigate the curse.” She hissed her discomfort as his magic continued to repair her injured limb.

“Are you afraid?” he asked her gently. They would be entering the shadow curse the next day, and it weighed heavily on his own heart and mind. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

“I would be lying, and therefore a poor paladin if I said no. I’m terrified. Every instinct I have is screaming at me night and day to leave this path and find another way.” Halsin’s throat tightened as she spoke. “But,” she continued, “I would be a worse paladin if I abandoned this cause now, after we’ve come so far. My…someone once told me that bravery is not the absence of fear. Bravery is choosing to face it, regardless of how hard your bones tremble or your stomach churns. I owe it to every single soul we lost that day to see this through.” Freya flexed her leg as Halsin finished. “You do good work, druid.”

He could only stare at her like a dumbstruck fool. She was far wiser than he gave her credit for. “You’re right,” he chuckled. “True courage lies in facing your fears. You may be the bravest of us all, paladin.”

“That’s not true. I’m just trying to make it out the other side of this thing with my mind intact.” Her expression turned contemplative. “You’ve spent the last century working to banish the curse. I’ve spent the last century trying to forget it even exists. I’ve killed more Sharrans in Selûne’s name these last decades than I care to count to rectify my failure at Moonrise, but my true failure lies in my cowardice. Perhaps this parasite is my penance.”

Halsin rested a hand on her healed knee and gave it a light squeeze. “Nothing about you that I’ve seen thus far could even remotely be considered cowardly, Freya. Do not punish yourself, it’s not your fault the world is wicked.”

“Yes, well, it’s my duty to defend the innocent and banish evil where I see it. Anyway, we have a long day ahead of us. I should probably give you your bedroll back.” She moved to stand, but Halsin gently pushed her back down onto the fur.

“Rest here,” he ordered. “Your tent is clear on the other side of the camp and that leg will feel better in the morning if you stay put. I’ll take the first watch.”

“The last thing I want is to put you out of your own-”

“You are not a burden, Freya. Far from it. Rest, now.”

He expected her to argue with him further, but to his surprise, her eyelids drifted shut and her breathing slowed as she almost instantly fell into a deep slumber. Elves didn’t often truly sleep, Halsin had only done so himself a few times in his long life, but he knew that the events of that day had exhausted her mind and body. He reached over and removed the rag from her forehead, brushing a stray lock of moonlight hair from her face as he did. He was starting to understand her better, and he very much admired the glimpses he was getting of the woman behind her shield. She was brave and compassionate and powerful and resilient, though stubborn as an ox and more sarcastic than even the vampire at times. Freya was a puzzle that he couldn’t work out, but damn him if he wouldn’t keep trying.

[unholyverse]

waterparks // rock sound awards 2021

(full text under the cut)

WATERPARKS

CLASS OF 2021 ARTIST OF THE YEAR

WORDS: JAMES WILSON-TAYLOR PHOTOS: JAWN ROCHA

Another album, another lap around the world…another year that very much felt like it belonged to Waterparks. Their exponential growth continued this year with a new label deal and their latest and absolutely greatest record.

They began 2021 in isolation putting the finishing touches to 'Greatest Hits', and end it off the back of a triumphant, huge North American tour, by way of big, big festival slots and the realisation of more ideas than even they might have thought possible.

Here, Awsten Knight looks back on the journey he and his bandmates Geoff Wigington and Otto Wood have been on over the past 12 months, and faces towards the future.

How has your 2021 been, Awsten? It seems like a lot of bands have understandably found this year to be way more productive than last…

"It's better, but it's been equally productive. In 2020 I still made over 100 songs. Still recorded all of 'Greatest Hits'—it was pretty much done by January—made the DVD, 'FANDOM: LIVE IN THE UK'… that took like, five or six months. Yeah, 2020 was still super productive and then obviously this year…album release, making a million more videos, playing shows. That's why I say it's equal."

Was there any transitional period for you, or were you just straight into work mode?

"It never stopped. And I'm not saying this is necessarily a good thing, but I just can't stop working. It's very hard for me to stop. Sometimes I actively try to just because, but I feel like I just operate better if I'm working on things. The thing is, at least if we are out doing shows, I'm not writing songs because of it. But last year I didn't have an excuse."

'Greatest Hits' was of course released this year. You've talked before about wanting to better yourself with each album, but what's interesting is it feels like the leaps between each record are now getting bigger too…

"I'm very about smooth transitions between stylistic stages. It feels very inorganic if somebody has screamo, alternative rock and then they try and go full pop. It's like you didn't do it naturally, so it feels disingenuous. I also think that I was more impatient being stuck at home. And on top of that, since I had more time to create and just make weird sounds and demo things out, I got to learn a lot and hit a lot of things that I wouldn't have necessarily found so soon. So I think it's a combination of those things. This gave a lot of time for me to find the most weird, left of centre, out of pocket stuff. I can't tell you how many Halloween sounds I went through making 'See You In The Future'. Sorry, 'See You In In The Future."

It's funny hearing you talk about acts earning that change in sound. It's like you are world-building but it's about the musical sounds rather than characters or stories…

"Yeah, and wanting to make as many different styles as you can. Because when it stops being fun or fresh or exciting, I don't wanna do it. Touring itself is very fun and rewarding, but it can also get monotonous. So if you are not pushing the boundaries everywhere you can, whether its sonically or show production or whatever… I mean, you see how easily I get distracted. I won't want to do it if it's not fun. You know who has got the best transition between that I think I've ever seen? Like, as far as musical styles go as a band? Bring Me The Horizon. I know where they started and watching them go to 'That's The Spirit' and even the stuff they are putting out right now… it changes style-wise so much. Not only is it consistent, but it changes and I think thats awesome. Not a lot of bands are willing to do that in case it feels like they are putting on somebody else's clothes. But they've done it in a very smooth way."

"WHEN IT STOPS BEING FUN OR FRESH OR EXCITING, I DON'T WANNA DO IT"

"I THINK BEING ALONE ALL THE TIME MADE ME WANT TO COLLABORATE MORE…"

Was there anything specific on 'FANDOM' that you wanted to improve on or push further this time around?

"I don't wanna compare songs especially because if you compare old things to new things, just because of how nostalgia works, it'll never compare until more time has gone by. But if I can sit down and look at 'Numb' vs 'Watch What Happens Next… They're both cool, they both have interesting pre-choruses in very different ways. One of them is more drawly, very minimal and then the other is a little hip-hoppy but more in a Beastie Boys kind of way. Then that outro is from hell, just crazy. I love the vocal patterns in it, in the b-section. And then I'll look at 'Watch What Happens Next' and compare those patterns. I look at things like that. What stuff got added in that's special? What are the special elements that aren't just guitar, bass, drums? I compare stuff like that a lot. Some songs are written where it's like, 'This one will have a pit'. Some songs it's like, 'This is for people who don't even fuck with us, but it has such a groove'. Or, 'This one is a dark 'Life Of Pablo'-type production that's dark and evil but expensive-sounding'. There's just certain things I wanted to accomplish and especially at that time, during recording, being stuck at home, I needed to do what's going to make me feel fulfilled right now."

You seem to be in a very collaborative mood too with the guests on the album and then things outside the album like the track you did with DE'WAYNE. Is that collaborative spirit something you are becoming more open to?

"Yes, definitely. I think being alone all the time made me want to collaborate more. And then also I feel like, and I hope this comes off okay… as good as I feel like I am at writing and production and finding creative ways to do things, I know that other people are so much better than me at other things. I don't wanna be the fucking best in the room at everything, because then why am I in this room? When I gave 'Crying Over It All' to Zeph, I didn't give very much instruction. I was like, 'Just add harmonies, do your thing, pretty freeform, just go for it'. Because when I listen to her stuff, she'd always send me demos or even on her Instagram stories she'll post the acapellas of stuff she is working on. There's like twenty layers of vocals and they are doing these random swells and all this cool shit and I'm just like, 'Woah, that's insane'. So when she sent back all of the vocals for that, it was the same kind of thing. And that's not something I would have thought of. It's no longer me sitting at this desk right here working on 'Double Dare' or 'Entertainment. I think you can only go so far alone and if you happen to have friends and people you like around you who are incredible at other things, I don't see why you wouldn't collab with them. At the end of the day, all I want is the best album in the world."

It felt like that spirit of collaboration had disappeared in the scene for a while but is now coming back around again, which is great because, like you say, everyone benefits from that…

"Yeah that's totally true. And at least for me, I felt like I had something to prove, especially early on. Because we did… we had a lot to prove. But I think, maybe in an ego sense, or I don't know what it was, but I took a lot of pride in it. We'd meet people in other bands who were bigger than us and they'd go, 'Is it true that you had no co-writes or people working on this or anything?' But in the grand scheme of things, we're not shit. In the world of music, most people don't even know we exist. But I feel like that thing - that weird alternative music mindset. Some, 'Us against the world, got to prove yourself' type of shit - I don't really have that anymore. And I'm glad, because it's not productive, it's not helpful, it's not gonna make you have a better album. I feel like alternative music, as stubborn as everybody is, I think they are probably seeing how good collabs are in hip-hop, or how Spotify works and are like, 'Oh shit, we should do that"." You've always talked about personal stuff within your lyrics but it feels like on 'Greatest Hits', you were a lot more open and direct.

What do you think has changed in your approach to lyrics?

"I think there's multiple reasons for it. I think most people just don't look that deep into stuff and I want them to know what I'm talking about. 'Entertainment… that whole fucking album is metaphors. The whole thing. And I think with stuff like 'Turbulent', that was in a way more cathartic. This isn't an objective truth or anything, this is just for me, but I think it's more cathartic to be blunt. And thats not to say metaphors or keeping things poetic isn't good. I want to still use metaphors, part of me wants to lean a little more on that. There's just something very cathartic about just saying it. 'LIKE IT'… just getting to talk shit for verses and I had even more verses written but I just wanted it to be like a punk song. A very grungy, punk kind of thing. It was just more of a release. People that are very into the band will look more deep into things but sometimes I just want someone who hears ten seconds on Tik Tok to know what the fuck I'm talking about. Lyrically, I didn't want to waste any time, I just wanted to get to it."

'Double Dare' celebrated its fifth anniversary this year. Is there anything about the creative process back then that still applies to how you work now?

"Honestly, it's the same. Sit down, laptop, guitar, keyboard, bass, mic. Shut everything out, start making shit. What is made has changed, but the process is the same."

Is there anything you wish you knew back then that you know now?

"All I would do if I could go back is just give them a mixing budget. Because I wouldn't change anything. I like some of the songs more than others but I still think they should all exist. We made the whole album for like, $10,000. Some people might hear that and think it's a lot, but it's not. For making an album, especially on a label, thats nothing. If we could get a Zakk Cervini mix, like a remix…"

When it came to the live show, this tour seems to match this new era in feel. How did you approach bringing 'Greatest Hits' to the stage?

"We went through a lot of different stages with the production. This was the first idea - I want it to make it look like thunder if we want to, make it really dark and moody, no lights around us just silhouettes and bits of lightning, because it's just a full cloud wall, so we can be in a storm like we are going to die or it can glow gold like we are in heaven, or like a sunset. Somebody actually asked me at a Q&A the other day about the symbolism of the doors onstage and I think being in my apartment so much for that long, I was always just looking at them. It felt right to bring the three doors hovering in the clouds. We had the red, yellow and blue bikes because that was my only escape during it. I could come up with crazy production all day, but you also have to take into consideration the rooms you are doing. Is it indoor, outdoor, 500 people, 2,000 people…You base these things on that. What can work in different ways. I think it's the most fitting and conceptually it's probably the best pairing we could have had visually with this album. But some day I think it would be so cool, when we get to do those fucking arena shows, to collab with someone who has done it a million times. The first time or two around, you don't understand the capabilities of what can and can't be done. You don't know what your limits are, so you just kind of be safe. So I'm excited to eventually start collabing with someone on that."

As things get bigger, it feels like the rooms are starting to match your ambition. Is there a pressure to scale things up?

"There's not really a pressure. I just don't think about it like that. The other night, and this hasn't happened in forever, but right before going on I had this weird moment where I felt like I'd re-entered my body. They were already playing 'Greatest Hits' and the first song is about to start and I felt like I'd re-entered. I glanced at the audience and thought, 'Oh god'. Fucking freaked out. Like, 'What the fuck am I doing?' I say that because the best thing you can do is not think. If you just show up and do it, cool shit gets done. If you think about it, if you analyse it, you psych yourself out."

"I NEEDED TO DO WHAT'S GOING TO MAKE ME FEEL FULFILLED RIGHT NOW"

"SOMETIMES I JUST WANT SOMEONE WHO HEARS TEN SECONDS ON TIKTOK TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I'M TALKING ABOUT"

It was also great to see you be joined again by Mikey Way during this tour…

"I know man, that was so cool. We're always talking about when we can do stuff because he loves playing shows and he fucks with Waterparks and stuff which is so crazy. I was in Nashville a month before the tour and we hung out and got dinner, and he's like, 'Dude, I wanna play one of these shows'. And he's gonna be in Nashville so I'm like, 'How about Nashville? And anything else you wanna do'. And he's like, 'Definitely Nashville and I'd love to do more'. I was like, 'You let me know what you wanna play and we'll switch up the set after'. That was so fun. He is one of the nicest fucking people in this world. He's in the biggest rock band in the world and does not act like it. He's so humble and so nice. He's just a good dude."

Looking forward, what do you think are the biggest things you learned in the process of making 'Greatest Hits"?

"I definitely don't wanna talk too much, especially as I don't know way too much, but I think that the one drawback that I've had with 'Greatest Hits'… it's not even a drawback with 'Greatest Hits', it's just the way in which it was consumed. I think that because it's so long, and not even long runtime wise… It's just that 17 tracks is intimidating to some, especially if you are not a diehard listener. I think some songs got overlooked, or under-appreciated. There are certain ones where I wonder how long it's gonna stay underrated. The production on 'See You In The Future' is fucking insane but its not even in the top seven of the most listened to. Or 'Magnetic'. Or 'Crying Over It All' is I think one of the best songs Waterparks has ever put out. They just get overlooked. 'American Graffiti', I kind of made that song as I was frustrated one night at how dogshit a lot of alt rock stuff that was coming out at the time was. I was just like, 'This is so uninspired, I'm just gonna make the way fucking cooler version of what these people are trying to do. I'm gonna do the perfect mix of Jimmy Eat World and Death Cab and all these people. And then just throw in some real wild production'. That outro is so fucking pretty. I feel like a lot of those get overlooked because theres so much. And there's a lot we can't put in the set because it's literally 17 songs. We're already playing for an hour and a half every night, which is a lot. We're not playing six of the songs because theres not even time. What I'm getting at is, the next album will probably be more…I don't wanna say concise, because it's not like 'Greatest Hits' isn't. It definitely goes on more tangents because that was the point. But it'll probably be shorter."

It certainly feels like alt.rock is the place where the album is king. In hip-hop you can release singles all the time, EPs, whatever you want. Is that something you've thought about in terms of release structure?

"I'm cool with singles. I don't really wanna do EPs anymore. Mainly because I'd rather just do four singles or release them as a pair. Because then if somebody hates one, they'll probably like the other. But I think that I would probably just do singles or pairings then drop another album."

What is on the to-do list for 2022?

"We are coming to Europe. We've got some more shows that we are gonna announce soon. Some places we've never been before. We've locked in support, haven't announced it yet but its gonna be very cool. We're playing that London show—insane. I wish I could say more. It's gonna be a good year."

Waterparks' latest album 'Greatest Hits' is out now via 300 Entertainment. They're due to tour the UK next summer.

[fishnoodles]

Q&A with Nick Valensi of The Strokes

by Dave Hyman, January 25th 2011

The following article is a mirror of a myspace music interview Nick Valensi did in 2011, whose page has since been either deleted/inaccessible. This is from a snapshot on the Wayback Machine.

-

After 2006’s First Impressions of Earth, the Strokes, for all intents and purposes, split up: Frontman Julian Casablancas put out a solo record while his bandmates embarked on their respecive musical dirges. Guitarist Nick Valensi, however, was quick to get back to work. In a chat with Valensi about the NYC band’s new LP, Angles, set to drop on March 22—their first in five years, and fourth overall—the shaggy-haired shredder spills that he had the itch for new Strokes’ tunes far sooner than the others.

“I found myself trying to rally the troops,” Valensi says of the down time. “I thought that might excite them… but it didn’t.” When the Strokes did finally hit the studio in early 2009, they took a new approach: For the first time, each band member dipped his hand into the writing process. In an idyllic world the Strokes would look back on these five years as a blip on the radar, but we should only be so lucky. “Hopefully it won’t be another five years before our next album comes out,” Valensi says. “At this point it’s out of my hands.”

Read on for the full interview with the Strokes’ guitarist.

What’s the significance of the album title Angles? Does it represent the fact that you each came at this album from a different angle, contributing various songs to the collective effort?

I think you’re already looking into it more than I ever did.  I wanted to go with that title for the same reason I’d want to go with any title because it sounds really cool and you can interpret it differently.  I’m not really looking that deep into. Sounds cool to me.

How did you react to writing songs this time around, as opposed to previous albums where (lead singer) Julian Casablancas was the primary songwriter?

It was really different for me, personally. I never really wrote songs. These past five years that we took off was the first time that I really sat down and focused myself on actually trying to write a song from start to finish. So then, to be able to bring it into the band and have my songs played by my band, was new for me and really refreshing.

Do you foresee yourself writing more songs for the Strokes from here on out?

I always worked on other people’s songs and, to be honest, I still think that’s my strong suit—arranging and coming up with parts, coming up with directions for other people’s ideas. I still think that’s what I’m good at. In those five years off, no one in the band was writing songs for the band and I found myself trying to rally the troops several times. So I really felt like the best way for me to get my band back on track was to send them demos that I made. I thought that might excite them.. but it didn’t. At the very least, I got some of my music on the record.

Describe the sessions with Joe Chiccarelli (White Stripes, My Morning Jacket, the Shins) that resulted in 18 songs, however only one that will end up on the record.

We liked a lot of stuff from those sessions.. To be honest with you, I think we learned a lot from those sessions. He worked us really hard and we were probably very unrehearsed and unpolished going into those sessions. And he worked us fuckin 12 hours a day just doing takes all day. By the time we were by ourselves (remixing at guitarist Albert Hammond Jr.’s home studio), we were working more freely and more the way that we wanted to, but at the same time, we had all this kind of knowledge and practice under us, or behind us I should say, that we wouldn’t have had if we hadn’t have gone through (the Chiccarelli sessions). I’m really glad that we went through those two months with Joe.

What did it take for the Strokes to put aside their differences and finally get back together?

It took time.  Maybe everyone needed money or something. ‘We gotta pay our mortgage so may as well get this going again.’ The mood was and continues to be light and fun and playful, with mild undertones of hostility and resentment which is just the way of this band. When we hang out and when we work on stuff, it’s great but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t elements of hostility there. Undertones of hostility and resentment.

One of the songs on the album, “Macchu Picchu,” has been described as having a “hip-hop” rhythm. The Strokes doing hip-hop… that’s new.

I thinks it sounds really Strokesy. I wrote all the music for that and Julian wrote all the lyrics. It took a little while. It kind of went through different things over the course of a year and (we) finally kind of settled on something. ‘Hip hoppy’ was kinda surprising to me but I love that description. so I’m not gonna  shy away from that.

How do you please the fans who’ve been waiting so long for this album?

I feel like it’s gonna be impossible for us to make music that’ll live up five years of nothing. It’s kind of that Chinese Democracy syndrome. You take that much time off.. no matter what you do it’s not gonna be as good as people want it to be. I feel like no matter what the record is, or how hard we worked on it, or how much we like it, it’s not gonna live up to people’s expectations only because of those five years between the last one and this one. If we had just released this a year or two after the last one, I imagine it would have gone better.

Where do the Strokes go from here?

We’ll see. At this point it’s out of my hands. I really just want to make another album really fast after this one. I just wanna kind of focus on new music for the future and just getting something out.

And how does that happen?

I really want to just get in a room with the band and share ideas . We really haven’t done that yet. I’ve been trying to rally the troops again. I don’t know exactly when we’re gonna do that. I’ve got a lot of ideas and Julian was telling me he’s got a lot of ideas.. So hopefully we’ll do that soon and it won’t be another five years before the next album comes out

[karereiko]

Usually I don’t post my felting work before I finish (mostly because of lack of time) I would like to photo steps of my work more often but usually I just simple forget to do it. And since all my gray cells in brain are taken by story of Moriarty the Patriot so I decided to show William earlier, because I’m happy to make him and second, because he isn’t so complicated I might finish him fast. He’s going to be my first character standing up figure. I need to do second hand, shoes, some more details on the middle body, back hair and he will be almost done. I might try to finish him this weekend but probably next one is more realistic.

Well, I’m going to do Sherlock next, and I really want to do Albert because his chapters in 17th volume were amazing, I love such deep, psychological stories of the characters. And if I do Albert then only fair it would be to do Louis too so Moriarty brothers could be together.

As I said Moriarty story just took me over and strike that part of me that wants draw, make amvs for it. Last time I felt like this was with NO.6 and maybe at start of Zestiria until hate towards that game didn’t ruin my fun.

So yeah, meanwhile felting Moriarty characters I’m going to make some amvs, I even gathered some materials today, I was planning more manga focused videos (because no one does ones) but looks like I will have to mix anime in it if I wanna fill full song. I can’t decide what program use, I worked on Sony vegas for years, but I started to have problems with frames in it, it would probably be better to learn Premiere more since it would be useful to my work.

I have wanted to draw few Sherliam stories too, but yesterday I tried to draw something to warm up after 2 years break from drawing and it was total failure, I have problems with drawing digitally, I was never good in drawing on computer, I have only that outside tablet to draw, not monitor one, I know I lack steady practice but lines I did yesterday were awful and I’m not sure how it will end. If I will draw and publish those stories I want them to look good.

PS. If someone knows good place to talk about Moriarty, please let me know, discord I find, it’s so quiet on that one and I would love to talk more about differences between manga and anime and all.

[phantomram-b00]

Hey so remember the Shunk post? Welp. Guess what, I’m feeling angsty, and why not. I’m going to expand it in a form of a fanfic (well one-shot ish. So here it is! Keep in mind. I’m open to criticism ^^). For those who haven’t read it and would want to read this instead, this is something inspired by Amphibia season final for season 2. So spoilers for both Amphibia and Good omens season 2 in that order. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. So hope you enjoy! And I put a song at the bottom to match the energy 🤭.

For Everything…

Tag: Angst, Whump?, Ineffable Husband, Hurt Aziraphale, Hurt Crowley, Muriel is their unofficial official adopted child, Post S2, Metatron, I present you angst for your souls, Open ending, Amphibia inspired, This author was feeling silly, violence.

Trigger warning: blood, mild violence, and strong language.

Rating: This is going to PG-13 territory.

Heaven. The one place all mortals raved about since the dawn of time, Even Belinda Carlisle can tell you that “Heaven is a place on earth”. Oh what a beloved place; in their rose-colored view. Right now, what was once beloved place is decorated by blood and hellfire blazing the place that can rival the severity of the bookshop fire. Yet, the fight still commences while Crowley and Aziraphale hide behind the pillars to get to the elevators without going into the crossfire. Meanwhile Muriel tries to sneak their way the best way possible without provoking any opponent. They stop hiding as seeing no one’s on sight yet the elevator was still closed. It most likely been miracle blocked so no one deserts.

“Crap.” Crowley spoke finally gritting his teeth. “Where is Muriel, I specifically told them to report using these walkie-talkies bull crap.”

Aziraphale open his mouth wanting to make a joke. But knowing where they stand, he bite his tongue.

“Crowley, I’m sure they’re alright.” Aziraphale spoke with a reassuring smile.

“You know. This could’ve been avoided if…” Crowley shook his head. “N-nevermind Ange-Aziraphale.”

He frowned.

“No. Say what you going to say.” Azirpahale said looking at him. “Please.”

Crowley looking away refusing to look at the hazel blue eye. He took a deep breath.

“You’re timing is fucking horrible. But fine, you want me to finish my damn sentence? Alright, this could’ve been avoided if you haven’t left Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.” Crowley hissed, even with the glasses on Aziraphale still feel the daggers shooting at him. “But no, because you decided to just say fuck all those six thousand years and choose this place.”

“Crowley I…”

“No! I’m not done!” Aziraphale quickly silence himself. “You made that choice so easily, like it never matter to you at all. You decided to just throw it all away. You…oh! You rather forgive me than… ahh! Aziraphale do you realize just how fucked up that is?”

“I…Crowley. A-all I wanted was to make this a better place. I-I didn’t want this to happen anymore than you do! I..I just wanted to fix things.”

“Oh Aziraphale, nothing last forever.” he coldly remarked. “And you can’t fix what was already damaged so many time.”

Aziraphale’s eyes became glossy, he’s choking back the tears.

“Crowley…”

“Look. I could say I’ve always admired your need to wanting to fix things. But Aziraphale, when will you learn that your selfless will get you hurt?” Crowley said wiping tears that is steaming down his face. “Azirpahale..I…just wished you’d open your eyes.”

Aziraphale wanted to speak but he wiped his tears as well. He look up at Crowley again.

“Crowley. I wish all of this never happened.. I wish I never hurt you in this way. I wish they’d left us alone. But most of all, I wish I never forgave you.” Azirpahale said emphasizing on forgave. “I just wanted to try.. but at the same time, I never wanted to leave you.”

“Azira-“

“Look, I know full well that I owe you between an apology dance and or an alcoholic breakfast or whatever it is as soon as we touch earth or stop this apocalyptic war going on. Crowley, I never would’ve came here if Metatron said you can come along too. Yet I still went, and you can never forgive me for that. I know it isn’t an easy street at all; and frankly you have all obligation to be mad at me for the stunt I’ve pulled. Oh Crowley, my worse offense it never considered you and-“ he failed holding back his tears. “I never meant to say I forgive you. I wanted to say I l-“

Without a thought, Crowley pulled Aziraphale in a hug abandoning his glasses as they both tearfully cried. He hugged back hesitantly.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt an-“

“Crowley!” Muriel said using that walkie-talkie which cause the pair to immediately separate. Crowley cleared his throat and pulled out his walkie-talkie while aziraphale waits patiently.

“Muriel I told you my code name is Anthony.” He spoke rolling his eyes.

“Sorry! I got excited. I just wanted to say that I finally find that pesky Miracle blocker. Sneaky bastards am I right?” Muriel spoke.

“Language-“ Azirpahale chimed in which against Crowley’s attempt couldn’t help but chuckled. He missed this.

“Oh ‘ello Azirpahale! But yeah I should be coming up!” Muriel said. “Just d-“

An angel came and tackled Crowley to the ground causing the walkie-talkie to drop and break. Aziraphale try to get the angel off of him but the angel punches him square in the face causing aziraphale to hold his bloodied nose.

“Traitors! You two will reap what you have sow for trying to stop the ineffable!” The angel sneered as they raise their sword at Crowley to try to pierce his heart but he was able to grip their arm to restraint them.

“Oh right, so sorry we actually care about the bloody world and aren’t as bloody war hungry like you lot!” Crowley mocked as Azirpahale wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck to get them off giving Crowley time to get back up. Crowley notice that the angel dropped their sword so actively pick it up and piece it through the angels chest.

“You…bastards-“ the angel weakly spoke as Aziraphale let them go. dropping to the ground as blood spill from their chest.

“Crap, they’re coming this way, Crowley, give me the sword I’ll try-“

“No. Aziraphale, I’m not having you defend yourself alone. Not this time.”

“We seriously need to work on our communication skills. Now I know what Muriel was talking about mentioning it, I was going to say give the sword to me so I can defend you. I’m not gonna stay another minute of this place.”

“Oh. Right. That can work too Azirpahale.” Crowley said promptly giving the sword to Azirpahale. “Wait a minute, why can’t I have the sword then?”

“Because I know you can handle it. You always do Crowley.” Azirpahale said with a smile.

“..Thanks Aziraphale.” He said trying hard to not show he was smiling but of course failed.

Soon they heard footsteps which prompt them to start running towards the elevator; when the angel came they tackled them and did their effort to prevent them but with each swing from the sword and Crowley’s powers it made their getaway more smoothly.

Ding!

They look and see the elevator and there comes Muriel waving. But look at the scene as they open their eyes and actively tries to press open to keep it open as Crowley and Aziraphale ran towards it like it was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

An angel almost tried to grab Crowley but Aziraphale swung his sword as the angel did as well causing their sword to clash together.

“Crowley go! I’ll be right there!”

Crowley hesitated but went towards the elevator. He takes the turn to press the open button as Muriel stand back.

“Wait but we can’t abandon him!?” Muriel yelled shaking.

“We’re not kiddo! Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled towards Muriel and then to Aziraphale as he still is in a battle.

Muriel look intensely seeing Aziraphale fight off the angel, admittedly, the angel did get a good scratch at Aziraphale on his arms and face but Aziraphale swiftly prevail over the angel with their reflex and jabs from the sword. Crowley’s cheek grew redder than his own hair seeing this battle, he’ve seen him fight before but he can’t help but feel admiration toward the fact Aziraphale can in his own word, “be a badass”. He shake his head as Aziraphale finally finished with the final bow to the angel.

“Aziraphale! Would you hurry up?!” Crowley yelled as Muriel hold his arm frighten. But is gripping onto the hope.

“I’m co-“

Shunk!

Muriel shrieks holding their mouth. Crowley eyes widen as he was struck with profound horror. Aziraphale cough up blood for a moment as he slowly look down to see a familiar sword piercing through his chest. He notice the flames anywhere. No…

Even as his vision became to blur he look at the corner of his eyes. His eyes was stunned when seeing Metatron holding the handling of what was once Aziraphale’s sword.

“Now look you’ve made me do.” Metatron said showing no ounce of regret.

Aziraphale look back, he can feel he was going numb, his eyes was blurry so he can’t see the crying Muriel and Crowley’s yellow serpent eyes shedding tears.

“C-Crowley..” he choked up with the strength’s mustering up. “I’m sorry…for everything.”

Aziraphale’s arm shakes as he raise it up, Crowley recognizing what he was doing.

“Angel n-no don’t you dare! Don’t pull this shit now!” Crowley cried out. What kill him more was aziraphale smiling, for what? To reassure thing was still okay? Why the blood hell must he smile?

Aziraphale mouthed something before-

Snap!

Just as he dropped to the floor, the elevator was forcibly closing despite Crowley trying desperate to open them back up yelling his name. Atlas the elevator closed and the button for the ground floor glowed causing the elevator to go down.

“No. No. No.” was all Muriel can voiced trying to press the H button repeatedly but to no avail. “Crowley I’m..”

Muriel look as they were ready to apologize, but they were at a lost of word looking at Crowley. they’ve never saw Crowley smoking this badly before.