#it literally warms my heart to hear that i’ve inspired you to start creating like

[unbiasedarmy]

ℋ𝓊ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 ℐ𝓃𝒹𝒾ℊℴ ₊˚.༄

❀ ✿ ❁ ✾

Namjoon has left me in a puddle of emotions as his solo album finally dropped last night. #Indigo Having felt such deep emotions, I couldn’t help the inspiration that grew from within and led to me creating my own little piece of Indigo.

But while I was in the process of painting in all of these different shades of blue, an intrusive thought crept into my mind… What if Namjoon walked into my room with a super heart warming smile on his face cause he loved my painting…

Aaaaand now we’ve got a little drabble because I couldn’t let this beautiful, comforting thought go to waste. :) I hope that you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 💙

✿ミ★♡︎⁂𑁍☆彡❀༄✧♥︎𖧷❄︎☾彡⁂❁

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It has been longer than I would like to admit since I felt that creative pull to start a painting. So long in fact, I had actually forgotten what that spark of inspiration felt like. That is until last night.

I really wasn’t doing anything special, I was hanging out with some friends, grabbing a couple drinks when I realized that RM’s new solo album would be dropping at midnight. Once that realization dawned on me, I was so giddy and excited that I set an alarm for midnight immediately. After that, I resumed catching up with my friends as I waited for the moment that I could experience that deep color blue.

Flash forward to midnight, I am quite literally skipping with glee out onto the patio to be clear of all the noise from within the bar, waiting with baited breath for the first song to play. (Absolutely not grinning like a mad person, could never be me…) Thankfully for me, after trying to listen to the first two songs from the album, my friends had decided to call it a night, and after bidding them goodbye, I hopped right in my car and cranked the volume as Change pt. 2 began to play.

Having a wonderful jam session filled with soul, sadness, sexuality, peace, and chaos, I finally arrived home with this feeling of completion. With my endorphins flowing freely, thinking of the sheer pride I carry for the man who put out his heart and soul for the whole world to see, I decided to call it a night (but not before putting the new album on repeat of course).

⁂☆彡☾☁︎︎༄✩ミ★☁︎︎༻⁂☽☁︎︎༺✧

As my alarm goes off the next morning I bask in the morning light and the after glow of the previous night, unable to kick this need to create something. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched. And so, scratch I did.

Once I was ready for the day, I finally decided to pull out all of my art supplies, cringing inwardly at the amount of dust that had gathered on top of everything. As I get my mini easel set up on my bed, I cannot get Lonely out of my head, so I decide to que up the playlist I had already created: 🧵🐋🌏🦋🌧️

I grin to myself with excitement for what is yet to come, ready to create something with so much meaning, not just for me, but for so many people around the world. As the music plays in the background I hum along to the parts I’ve already committed to memory, and listen openly to the parts I have not as I get several different shades of blue prepped for my painting.

I decide to create something simple, since there is already so much meaning behind just the color alone, the painting itself didn’t need to be complex in order for it to make sense. At least not for me, and this is a painting I wanted to keep. I take my brush and run it through the darkest blue first, nearly black, like the color of an abyss.

With the music so loud, I didn’t even hear the front door open, or close, nor did I notice when a large man walked down the hallway to the open doorway of my bedroom, leaning there quietly. Only when I’m about to dip my brush into a lighter shade of blue do I notice his relaxed frame standing there as he watches me. Once I realize he’s there I nearly jump out of my skin, a blush immediately beginning to overtake my cheeks, flooding down my neck in a blotchy trail of pink and red.

“Oh, hi! I uhm, didn’t hear you come in.” I speak once I’ve turned down the music significantly, fiddling with my paintbrush with a sheepish grin.

There’s a smirk that quirks up the corner of his lip for just a moment, realizing the effect he has on you, before it’s replaced with eyes filled with wonderment.

“Yeah, that music was pretty loud, huh? Must be pretty good whatever it is..” He trails off with a cheeky grin, putting his fingers to his chin as if to contemplate whose music you were listening to.

I couldn’t even scold him for being so witty when my mind was filled with all of the praises that were nearly falling off of my tongue.

“Namjoon.. The album is.. Beautiful. And that in itself is such an understatement, you really, truly, put your heart and soul into it and it’s so evident in your lyrics, your flow, just everything. It’s perfect. I’m so proud of you.”

A shy smile begins to form over his lips as he walks over to you, still sat on the bed, taking a seat next to you. His eyes scan your painting and it’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking. Until he tells you of course.

“This, is beautiful y/n. These colors are so vibrant. And it looks like you really captured that feeling of drowning in the abyss but swimming towards the light. When did you make this?”

I feel my heart swell and my eyes begin to water at the unexpected praise, making me bite my lips to try to keep my composure.

“I started it this morning, I just couldn’t shake this feeling of inspiration and creativity after listening to your album last night. You made me feel so many feelings. And I guess I wanted to do the same, even if this particular piece of art will be kept within these walls.” I finish speaking with a smile as I recall all of the different emotions Indigo has made me feel.

Taking a glance at you before he focuses back on the painting he just sits there, like he’s admiring a work of Van Gogh. There’s a comfortable silence that settles before he turns to you fully, gently placing one hand on your cheek and one on your waist.

“This is one of the most beautiful pieces of art I have ever laid eyes on. It’s been so long since you’ve painted and I am honored to be your muse. I want to get a frame for it as soon as it’s finished, I wanna take a picture of it for the whole world to see.” He punctuates his deep feelings by pulling you closer, nudging his nose against yours, looking deep into your eyes with his own dragon like ones.

As I look into his eyes which are like two unending pools of emotion, my cheeks feel warm once again. I shyly wrap my arms around his neck, snuggling closer to him.

“What could I have done in my past life to deserve such an amazing man like you, Junie?” I whisper, feeling like if I speak too loudly he’ll be blown away, like a dream fading away far too quickly.

At this he leans closer, barely pressing his lips against mine, but just close enough that I can feel them curve into the shape of a beautiful smile, one that is sure to make his cheeks dimple.

“You know, I was going to ask you the same exact thing..” He speaks quietly before slowly pulling back to move the paint supplies and painting off of the bed.

Once the bed is cleared off Namjoon kicks off his shoes and gently lays me down with him, side by side, my head resting on his chest as he slips his legs between mine. We both release a deep sigh in sync with each other, resulting in us both breaking out in a fit of giggles. The kind that makes your cheeks hurt. But once the laughter dies down I gaze up at him, feeling nothing but peace.

As he peers back down at me he runs his fingers through my hair, making me all the more relaxed, causing a lopsided smile to appear on my face as I’m transfixed on his beautiful features.

“Namjoon-ie, you’re so beautiful..”

Hearing this compliment, he can’t resist the smile that invades his features. He shakes his head ever so slightly before speaking.

“No baby, that’s you. My beautiful y/n.” His voice sounds more husky as sleep threatens to take over, but he fights it off by planting a gentle kiss to your lips.

I smile against his soft, full lips, unable to contain my happiness as butterflies invade my stomach. Our lips move together very slowly, like we have all the time in the world. Yet like there’s no tomorrow. Finally pulling back from a kiss that I can only imagine feels like heaven, I bury my face in his chest with a small grin.

This makes him chuckle as he continues to play with your hair. He then places another kiss to the top of your head, pulling your body closer to his.

“I think that your painting is so cool babe, I seriously can’t wait to frame it and post it on Insta.”

I can’t help but giggle as he continues to gush over my painting. I decide to take a peak up at him with a questioning brow.

“You really think it’s that good..?” I ask hesitantly.

His mystical eyes meet mine before he speaks with the most genuine smile.

“I know it’s that good, love. I think ARMYs will absolutely love it. But we have to keep it here, I wanna keep it.” He finishes with a small pout.

I lean up and kiss his pouted lips before reassuring him.

“No worries, I actually painted that for myself. To remind myself that when I’m in those dark times, that there will always be light at the end, and that I just have to keep swimming towards that light.”

He seems satisfied with that answer as he simply rests his head on top of yours with a small nod, snuggling closer to you. He then places one final kiss on your forehead, bidding you goodnight and wishing you the sweetest dreams.

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Okayyyyyyy! I just want everyone who reads this to know that this is my first ever drabble! I have tried to write novels in the past, but I’ve never done like a one scenario kind of situation so I really hope that if you read it, you enjoyed it! But if you didn’t I am 100% open to any constructive advice you all have for me!

Either way though, thank you so much for giving this little read a chance, and I hope if nothing else it gave you the same comfort that it gave me to write it! 💙 . ♡︎ Much love ♡︎

[inkykeiji]

hii! u inspired me to start writing and i wanted to ask if you have any tips? im so unoriginal and not creative and ur stories are soo good and super unique!! how do u come up w story ideas? and any other tips?? also i love ur works and please take ur time and dont feel pressured to post, u are our #1 priority!!

aaaah this is so sweet!!!!! <333333

first off, i’m flattered to hear that i’ve inspired you to start writing, wow that’s incredible!!okay okay tips under the cut!! <33

as far as tips go: practice, practice, practice, practice, practice, practice, practice, practice

creativity is like a muscle; you have to exercise it to make it stronger! and, like regular strength training, it isn’t always fun or enjoyable to do this. i write every single day. i’ve been writing fiction for over 10 years. there are several days where i have to force myself to write something (so TAKE ADVANTAGE of inspiration the moment it strikes!!!) but i do it because, ultimately, i love it more than anything & i’m very committed to becoming better at my craft.

you don’t have to like what you write (and everyday is a lil much for someone who’s just starting out; please please please don’t overwhelm yourself or try to do too much at once; you’ll burn yourself out!!!) and you don’t have to write a lot, but writing frequently (even if it’s just a few sentences or a paragraph a few days a week) will truly help you improve, and is the best way for you to improve!!

if you’re having difficulty with figuring out what to write, use prompts!!! they’re fantastic practice and a great way to get u thinking and exercising that creativity! there’s so many floating around tumblr alone, but you can find them literally all over the internet.

the other thing is, sometimes staring at a blank document can be extremely daunting. try fleshing out your ideas & making notes in a lil notebook and then going from there!!

and overall, don’t be too hard on yourself. there will be days where you hate everything you try to write, and that’s fine; it happens to all of us. any practice is good practice, i promise you. try not to compare yourself to others; we all advance at our own paces and there’s nothing wrong with that. life/art isn’t a competition. keep your focus on you and your improvement!!

aw thank u so much for ur kind words sweetpea <3 i hope this helps a little and i bid u good luck on your writing adventures!!! you can do it!! i support you!!

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

[ysljoon]

Books, Boba, Bosom Buddies|Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the new hire at the library you work at. After the first clumsy run in you had with him your feelings for him develop over the months and you two painfully pine for each other.

Clumsiness is a trait that can usually be very hard to be considered an endearing trait, but somehow Kim Namjoon can change that. He doesn’t have a careful bone in his large, muscular body (he has such a nice body, how can we ignore that?). You got a first hand experience of his clumsiness on the first day when he was hired at the library. Somehow he decided to fill the circulation cart with more books than it can handle by placing books on top of the already properly placed books. As you turned the corner, both of you guys were unexpecting to each other’s presence. Namjoon was able to not only lose control of the cart to narrowly avoid hitting you, but also managed to dump the books all at your feet. 

After getting over the initial scare of being almost run over by the cart, annoyance came over you. You started to collect all the books that were scattered on the floor and you tried your best not to let your scowl show. You knew he was new, but how can somebody be this reckless with shelving books. Working at a library should be peaceful and Kim Namjoon is uprooting any semblance of peace that should be there. He stooped down and started to help you organize the books while profusely spewing out apologies. You looked up at him and your frown softened when you saw his dimpled cheeks and honeyed skin. Your annoyance disappeared because how can anybody hold any form of negative emotion to someone that looks this alluring? He was eye candy on thick long legs that caught your eye when he squatted down. Once you were done ogling him you got around to accepting his apology.

“It’s okay, just try to not hit any of our patrons because they will not be nearly as helpful or as nice as I was in this situation.” You gave him a cheeky grin and made your way to the audio section to find a DVD that a customer placed an order for pickup. Little did you know that the effect Namjoon had on you was the same case for Namjoon. The smile you gave him left him flustered in his spot, almost in a daze. He knew he was going to think of your smile for the rest of his shift and he didn’t need any distractions if he wanted to keep his job. 

//////

A couple months later you and Namjoon have become bosom buddies. You could call him for anything and he could do the same. You guys had created a friendship that blossomed into mutual pining that neither of you were aware of. The not so subtle flirting (it was painfully obvious to your coworkers, but of course the both of you were undeniably blind to each other’s advances) had ramped up as the weeks went on, but you still questioned if it could go any further. Jin, your other coworker at the library, was just as tired as you were from the blind romaticisizing. He always pushed you to ask Namjoon out, but you always disagreed by saying things like Namjoon was never interested in you and just thought of you as his best friend and nothing else. Jin always showed you evidence on how that wasn’t the case, but you were too in denial that someone as attractive as Kim Namjoon would want to be more than just friends.

As your shift came to a close and you were done doing your last walk around to make sure everything was in order, Namjoon was there waiting for you at the front with flushed cheeks. He was rocking back and forth on the sides of your feet and you wanted to just pinch his cheeks at how cute he looked at this very moment. You turned off the lights and walked out with Namjoon by your side. The library closes at 7 pm, but Namjoon still insists on walking you to your car even though there is still enough sun out to not pose any threat to your safety. The chilvarous action makes your heart flutter regardless. Tonight he seemed to linger around a little longer before saying goodbye. You gave him a hug and as you stepped off the curb he gently grabbed your shoulder. You turned to face him and he was avoiding eye contact while anxiously scratching the back of his neck.

“Y/N, there's a new boba shop that opened on the corner by my house. Would you like to go?” You now understood why he was acting so nervous and your heart was doing somersaults in your chest while Namjoon’s was probably beating like a hummingbird’s wings. 

“Like a date?” The words tumbled out of your mouth and you felt like an idiot. Of course this wasn’t a date, he just is your best and that’s all you’ll ever be to him.”

“Y-yeah it can be a date. Or not if you don’t want it to be!” Oh. You weren’t expecting that at all. You gave him a coy nod and opened the passenger side door for him to get in. The car ride was filled with tension that you’ve never experienced before. This is what you’ve been longing for and now that the time was here you didn’t know how to react. Namjoon put the directions into the GPS on his phone and you made your way to the boba shop. The drive couldn’t have been longer than 5 minutes, but it felt agonizingly slow from the awkward atmosphere.

Once you got to the store, Namjoon held the door open for you and the cashier gave the both of you a warm greeting. You decided on getting taro milk tea and Namjoon decided to get a hibiscus lemonade with fruity flavored popping boba. As you waited for your drink you made small chat with each other and started to make yourself more comfortable with each other. It’s crazy that you guys go from being best friends that could tell each other anything to acting like awkward high school freshmen that have no idea how to deal with feelings.

You and Namjoon enjoyed your drinks outside to bask in the warm summer air while watching the last of the sunset. Namjoon was going on about his love for nature and it made you feel so endeared that someone could feel so passionate about the beauty of earth. You couldn’t help yourself and cut him off mid sentence with a kiss. The boldness surprised not only him but you too. You pulled away and instantly regretted your decision when you saw his wide eyes.

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. If it’s weird we can totally forget this even happened and move on-” Namjoon gave you a warm smile and pecked your cheek with a gentle kiss. “I literally spent nights thinking about you kissing me. That was everything I dreamed of and more Y/N. I want us to be more and I’ve always wanted to be more.” Hearing his confession made you grin and you felt all your emotions come to the forefront, including your insecurities.

“I’m glad Namjoon, I want us to be more too, but before we go there. I just want you to know that I haven’t dated anyone since my freshman year of college so I’m probably a little rusty in the romance department.” You tried to brush off your embarrassment with a chuckle, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Namjoon took your hands in his for comfort and scooted closer to you where your knees were touching. “Y/N my first kiss was in my sophomore year and college and that was the last bit of romance I’ve ever experienced. We can teach and learn from each other since that’s what love is all about.” Namjoon wrapped you up in his long arms and everything felt right and you were content that the pining between you two was finally done. The days you spent daydreaming about him has become reality.

Notes: It is 2 am and I wanted to write this grossly self indulgent drabble. This is unedted and I’m so tired so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I was inspired by me getting boba for three days straight. As always I appreciate any likes and reblogs. If you would like to support me further you donate to my Kofi

[zhowongli]

hello! i started a new thread because the other one (+ this one) got really long, so sorry! but i guess this is my love letters to you guys because you’ve made my tumblr experience so, so much better && i’m grateful for all of you guys + all of my mutuals and followers!!

first of all, @himawari-senpaii thank you so so much for your kind words! meggi, i love your sunflower motif because it suits you so well! sunflowers make me smile whenever i see them, and it really brings me so much joy to see you on my dash/notifs. your tags are always so fun and sweet. thank you for tagging me in this 🥺 

@animoozies connie, where do i even start? you were my very, very first tumblr mutual on this account! i’m so thankful you reached out to me before, and you’re still checking up on me even now. words can’t describe how much i adore you + how appreciative of you! when i see you on my dash with your stories, i always end up cackling because you’re so fun. idk how you do it working all those hours + going to nursing school, but you is a mf boss ass queen!!

@hoekaashi ash, my queen!! my tag for you is my day is blessed because ash ✨exists✨ because that’s honestly how i feel about you. i am truly blessed with your kindness, your humor, your friendship, you. thank you for always keeping me company through our struggles in pharmacy school! you are one of the realest people i know, and i feel so honored that you always send me random kenma pics & fics you think i’d like 🥺

@kanao annette, the other half of my soul, my whole heart, my literal soul sister. you are one of the biggest blessings i’ve received this year, and i honestly don’t know where i would be without you listening to my dumb shit and supporting me through all my mess LOL. thank you for validating me all the time, even if it’s just stupid stuff like enabling me to buy all the random stuff that i’ve been thinking about LMAO. i love how we are always ✨speaking✨ and  ✨manifesting✨ good things in our futures together. i literally feel like i can talk about any and everything with you, and i love that about us 🥺 i am manifesting that beach vacation 2021 for us, okay!!! 💖

@sapphitedreams leo, my cutest menace in the kitchen 💖 thank you for reaching out to me when i was too shy to reach out to you uuuu. you’re such a chaotic calm in my life, and i love your energy. i am constantly in awe with how adorable, supportive, and creative you are! even though you bully me sometimes and only make things for characters’ birthdays, you are so so talented and it floors me every time i see your creations because they are so amazing idk how they’re real. i hope you are able to get some rest even if you have to work during your break (& i hope you don’t accidentally fall during work anymore smh HAHAH)!

@onefortyninecm danielle!! my love!! i know i mention this before, but i am always so so inspired by you. you’re so tiny, but you have such a big heart and soul. you’re so beautiful inside and out + your humor is god tier. i’m so glad you were the very first person i’ve ever commissioned from (& spiraled me into comissioning indulgent kenma art HAHAHA), and i’m still amazed by your talent and kindness every time you post something new omg. i still can’t believe you DREW ON YOUR PHONE what the heck!! you’re so talented it’s crazy HAHA. i’m always thinking fondly of you + dandy wedding in a pumpkin patch 2021, okay thanks. 

@p-irozhki rissa!! i am so blessed with all the gifs you create and all your content on my dash! whenever i think of you, i think about all the smol icons you use because to me, you = cuteness = i wanna hug you so much!!! i think i already said it, but i’m always so thankful when you read all my self-indulgent fanfics and leave kind comments on them 😭 thank you for culturing me about mangoes HAHAHA. there’s never a bad time with you, and i’m thankful we got to meet this year!

@hoshino-a lena lena! you actually have so much bde that i am in constant awe by you. you are such a baddie & i have this like clear imagine in my head of you with crisp and clean vibes + the skies from your pfp on discord, hehe. i love you and all your brain rots about your exes. at this point, every time i see semi, my first thought is “ah it’s lena’s ex” and whenever i hear some sad song, i would be like “omg it’s lena ab her ex semi eita” LMFAOIOAGJDLA. i love talking to you because your energy is just immaculate + i just love your presence 💖 also please get some sleep because do you even sleep 😭 

@myelocin nic!! you’ve painted my world in so many iridescent shade so life, i can’t even begin to describe how much you mean to me. you works are just so beautiful so imagine how much i shrieked when i saw you followed me LMFAOOADIGDALJ i love that your blog is your safe space because it has become a place of comfort for me as well (and i’m going to miss you so much when you leave 😭😭). your makki brain rot is so strong, and sometimes i think about makki and you making dinner and teasing each other and throwing flour at each other or something idk. this is nic’s world now and we are all living in it tbh. 

@tsu-kiss nina!! you are someone i find such comfort in. i’m not really sure if that even makes sense LOL. but your blog and you are a source of comfort for me. in my head, you have such an older sister vibe even though i’m older than you LMAOOADGHDAKJ. i hope life is treating you well because you deserve all the best!! seeing you thrive makes my heart so full 🥺 i love you so much!!

@souheii lisa!! i kid you not, the first time you dropped an ask in my ask box, my heart skipped a beat because you told me you love me and i love you and you are so cute and i cri!!!! i know we don’t talk often, but every time i see you on my dash or in my notifs or when we do talk, it’s like a little shot of serotonin every time :”) thank you for being such a lovely human being mrs. iwaizumi hajime, 27, althetic trainer😭

@ultkags​ cas!! my first child 💖 i know you’re on a hiatus right now because school really, really sucks BUT you are seriously one of my biggest blessings. you are literally my ray of sunshine because every time i talk to you, i gain so much warmth and energy from you. every time i see your edits, it absolutely AMAZES me because i literally don’t know how i am able to see all your edits FOR FREE?? all your thoughts behind the composition and symbolism for each piece is CRAZY. please remember that i’m always your biggest fan + i love you so so much. please take care and remember to drink water and get some rest!! your grandma is always here to send you love + forehead kisses because this grandma can’t bake :(

@u-make-my-heart-tsumtsum​ ree!! hi, i know we’ve only started talking recently but i love how open and warm you are. our love was so strong that even tumblr tried to stop us 😭 conversations with you are always so easy and lovely, and you are just such a cool person!? i love reading all your thoughts (& i can’t wait to dive into your masterlist after school ends because we live for fluffy tsumu content 😭). i’m not sure why you even follow me, but i adore you so much!!

@neonghxst​ el, where do i even begin!! you are such a lovely person, and i literally have no other words to say because you always leave me speechless. your writing is so so gorgeous, and you are so so beautiful. i love reading all your stories because they truly leave an everlasting impact on me, and i love reading your interactions + just seeing you on my dash. you are so thoughtful, and you take care of everyone around you so well. i hope that you are also giving yourself the same treatment because you deserve all the best as well! remember to drink water in between your coffees and get some rest as you go into your final 2 weeks of the semester!! 

@und3lla​ maliha! hi love! i know we haven’t spoken much or in a while, but i really do always think of you randomly. you were one of the first mutuals i made && you are such a sweet soul. i love how every time we talk, it really fills me up with happiness. thank you for just being such a lovely person && you truly are one of the softest people i’ve met. thank you <3

@deadontheinsidebut angel, my dumb ham, my queen, my hoe (heaven on earth), my everything. i know you are also on a semi-hiatus right now because everything that’s going on, but i hope you are properly taking care of yourself >:( i’m always here to remind you to drink some water in between your coffees and teas and to GET SOME REST. you are so so driven, and i really admire how open and friendly you are. you truly are your namesake because you are literally an angel, and i always feel so blessed to be in your presence (even if you bully me sometimes for being a boomer 😔). words can’t describe how much i love you and care about you && i hope that you are able to find what you’re looking for during your break! 💖

@rumprich​ ananya! hello! i am so thankful to see you and all your content on my dash. you have so much creativity, and all your edits are so aesthetically pleasing to look at? like it’s so light + pretty!! i’m so so grateful that we are mutuals somehow because ahhh i really don’t deserve you. you are so adorable, and i truly am blessed to see your presence! 

@yuki-souma​ vee! i know we only started talking very very recently, but you are so much fun to talk to! i love how diverse our conversations are, and i love that we have similar favorites, and even when we don’t, it’s always a fun conversation that i look forward to! i love how open and inviting you are, and i’m really grateful that we are mutuals + i love and appreciate you so so much! 

@owlywrites​ owly! hello! you are seriously one of the most supportive souls i’ve met on this website. your kindness and drive to learn always leaves me speechless because you’re so amazing. thank you for being so kind to me, and i hope you extend that same kindness to yourself! don’t be so hard on yourself and remember to take breaks and take care too. you are such a beautiful soul, and i hope you’ll remember that i’m always here to support you!! 

@graphicstills-in-motion hi arianne! thank you so so much for always being so kind to me. i don’t know what i did in life to deserve you, but i must have done something right to have someone so kind like you in my life! thank you for being such a sweet soul + always boosting everyone around you up. your kindness is definitely contagious! i love seeing your edits and reading our conversations because there are always so many thoughts put in. thank you <3

@applepienation​ justine! thank you so much for always checking in on me whenever i post random shit on my dash. i really do appreciate you and all that you do for not just me, but also for everyone around you. you are such a ray of sunshine, and i’m so thankful that you’re in my life! i know uni is crazy for you right now, but i hope you’re still taking time to take care of yourself! sending you lots of love and positive energy!!

@touyax​ drake! hi love. i absolutely LIVE for your tags LMAOOADJGALD. they are literally my thoughts but you just typed them out HAHAH. i’m so thankful that i get to see your beautiful content on my dash, and i’m always in awe by all your edits! thank you for always being such a fun person + never leaving me feeling like a fool whenever i post ask games LOL. i love and appreciate you so much! 💖

@kagehjna​ ilayda! my kagehina supplier 🥺🥺 i love seeing your presence on my dash because you truly post all the best things! you are such a lovely person + i love reading your tags HAHA. you are truly a joy and we will definitely have matching kagehina icons one day okay 😭😭 12/7 is finally here/coming SO I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!! thank you for always blessing me <3

@sadaharus hi mei! you are literally the definition of softness to me. all your content and edits are just so soft and beautiful, and i love seeing everything you post. you are my main gintama supplier HAHA. i really appreciate how kind you are + how you’re always so sweet to me. 🥺 i know it’s kinda funny how i started following you because of a random ask game, but i’m so so glad i did because i always feel so thankful you’re here! 

@fake-charliebrown charlie! my little sprout babie!! i have so much admiration for you because you have so so much talent! your style is so distinctive, and i love that!! it’s so soft + vibey, and i’m honestly so so amazed by it all. not to mention, you have the best haikyuu thoughts! thank you for sharing all of that with me! i’m thankful for you, thank you <3

@itachihaa​ ay! my froggy princess 🥺 thank you for always being so kind to me + having the patience to deal with how slow i am to responding!! i’m really appreciative of you always because you make/have so much beautiful content and you are so so sweet as well!? and the way you call me miss starlight 🥺 that makes me so soft like!! uuu i love you. 

@stardust-make-a-wish​ star! you are so so adorable!! i LOVE reading your tags because they make me feel so fuzzy and soft but also relatable HAHA. your presence is such a joy + thank you for always interacting with me even though i just spam random stuff LMAO. i love how thoughtful your answers are + how much you love cake/sweets (very suiting because you are so sweet 🥺). thank you for being interested in me even though i am the one asking you questions! 

@karasu-hoes​ daisy! hello! i have so much admiration for you because you have so much creativity and kindness! like your events are so cool and unique + your writing is so beautiful! i love reading your feral thoughts + all your work. i also really love reading your witching hours!!! thank you for blessing me with you 🥺 you are always so kind + i love how much you care about your friends and the people around you. i hope you’re taking care while renewing your teaching certifications! 💖

@frailuta nico! hello love! i know we haven’t really spoken before, but i just want to know i love you so much. you make the most beautiful gifs + i truly am in awe every time you post something. life is tough sometimes, but you are tougher! sending so so much love and positive energy to you + please remember to take care! <3

to all my mutuals and followers: thank you so so much for sticking with me and my mess of a blog. i honestly don’t really contribute much to anything, but i’m so thankful you guys are still here! thank you, thank you, thank you! i love and appreciate all of you guys + my ask box/messages are always open if you want/need someone to talk to 💖 thinking fondly of everyone today + so much love to you guys mwah mwah!

[hela-avenger]

Golden

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 4130

Summary: Where two broken people find the light in each other. Bucky x Reader 

Inspired: Golden by Harry Styles

A/N: It was time for me to pay a little attention to the other love of my life, Bucky. I hope you enjoy! 

hela-avenger masterlist

Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus, hoping

Take me back to the light

“You’re going to burn a hole on her back if you keep glaring at her like that,” Sam points out to Bucky as he noticed his lack of focus. They were supposed to be stretching for their morning run but Sam noticed Bucky’s strayed attention. “What did the poor girl do to you?” 

Bucky shifted his stare to Sam confused as to what he was referring to. 

“Nothing, she did nothing,” Bucky stutters in his response as he stopped stretching his calf and shifted to the other one. “And I’m not glaring at her. I was just…” 

Bucky can’t find the proper words to describe what he was doing at the moment. His mind had gone elsewhere the moment he saw you step out into the garden. 

The sun was just rising from the horizon when he saw you leave the compound. The morning rays created a halo around you and he was left breathless once again. 

You were golden. Absolutely golden. 

“Oh my…” Sam starts to chuckle. “You… You like her.” 

Bucky glares at him in return. 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“No, I-” 

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve asks the moment he joins them. 

“Bucky has a crush!” 

“No, I don’t,” Bucky snaps at Sam before turning to Steve. “I don’t.” 

Steve can’t hide his laughter as he notices that Bucky was blushing. Literally blushing with the rose tint on his cheeks spreading upwards. 

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Steve asks him. 

“I don’t…” Bucky resigns trying to convince them otherwise and lets out a sigh. “It’s not that simple.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s just not,” Bucky snaps. 

Before any of them could argue against him, Bucky takes off on their running path needing the time alone to forget any happy illusion he had conjured in his mind. 

I know you were way too bright for me

I'm hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Browns my skin just right

Your hand caresses the creeping vines that were crawling up the side of the wall. They were quite aggressive if left on their own which was why you had to keep a close eye on them. You didn’t mind the time and focus you set aside for the garden. It was a welcome reprieve from a chaotic past that continued to linger in your mind. 

Darkness was an old friend. One you weren’t so keen on ever running into again. 

You were a starving sunflower and you followed the sunlight from one horizon to another. 

You fed off of the warmth that the rising sun provided. If you had the means, you would follow the sun until she decided to burn out. She was a lover you were never ready to let go when the inevitable end of the day came. 

“Bucky! Wait up!” 

Your safe haven is disrupted by the shouts close by. It’s not hard to find the source of the chaos. It was one, more like three, beautiful sights that you were accustomed to seeing in every rising dawn. 

Captain America, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon. 

You were aware they were staying in the same compound as you. King T’Challa had offered to move them elsewhere if it was an issue for you but they were a breath of fresh air. They broke the silence that had become a guest in your home.

You were certain that they had noticed you as you had noticed them but the distance between these two worlds was one that you created. 

For your protection and theirs. 

You're so golden

I'm out of my head

And I know that you're scared

Because hearts get broken

Running away had done nothing to dissolve the issue. Bucky had only further confirmed Sam’s allegation and now he was being cornered and bombarded constantly. It was driving him mad and it drove him out of the compound to find peace in the silent outside. 

Now that he was out, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the silent oasis that he had seen you enter. Bucky should have known that driving him out was a ploy to drive him into you. Initiate the contact the neither of you were ready for. 

Though he knew this, he couldn’t help but walk towards the garden. 

It was calling to him. Luring him like a siren would a sailor. 

He took a step and then another and then one more. He didn’t have to move any further as your illuminating presence finally graced him. 

The sun was setting low. Its final golden rays whispering its goodbyes as they kissed your skin one last time. Your eyes slowly open quickly finding the new shadows that cast over your garden. It startles you and you can’t avoid the tumble that you take. 

Your back crashes against the vine wall, and the leaves are quick to wrap around you to cushion your fall. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Bucky mumbles as he steps up to untangle you. “I’m so sorry.” 

You can’t help but giggle as he continues to rain apologies to you. The vines are reluctant to let you go and that’s partly your fault. 

“It’s ok,” you giggle out. “I’m fine.” 

The vines are replaced with Bucky’s hands on your waist. He easily lifts you off your feet and sets you on stable ground. 

“I can’t believe the first word I ever said to you was shit.”

You snort at his response. 

“It’s not the worst first impression I’ve had,” you tell him. ”It might actually be the best one.” 

He smiles and it is warm and bright and soft that you find yourself mistaking it for the sun.

“Your smile,” you whisper. “It’s beautiful.” 

The words surprise him as much as they surprise you for actually saying to him. With one more apology, he’s gone. The sun is his smile fading away into the dark. 

I don't wanna be alone

I don't wanna be alone

When it ends

Don't wanna let you know

I don't wanna be alone

“You’re here again,” you laugh as you notice the lingering shadow at the edge of your garden. You knew it was the soldier again. The plants whispered it to you the moment he took a step inside your safe haven. “Having trouble sleeping?” 

It was the middle of the night and Bucky stared at you in surprise. You had seen him take strolls around the compound when sleep evaded him. You weren’t surprised to finally find him in your garden once more. 

The first encounter was cut short by him but by your own doing too. You hadn’t meant to drive him away but you thought it might have been for the best. 

You were healing and he was too. 

Yet, against all odds, here he stood before you except this time you were the one who caught him off guard.

“Yeah, I uh… I couldn’t sleep.” 

You hum in understanding. 

Unlike the last time, you find this need for him to stay. You find this need to see him smile again. 

“I know how that feels,” you empathize. “Follow me.” 

You walk down the stone path that wraps around your garden. Bucky’s steps are quiet but you feel him right behind you. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

You smile at his question.

“You’ll see.” 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach the grove of trees at the end of the path. A large hammock hung between two trees with an array of pillows and a wool blanket. Underneath it laid a field of lavender flowers that spread their peaceful scent upwards. 

“Do you sleep out here?” Bucky asks, confused. 

“Sometimes,” you answer with a shrug. “You’re not the only one with sleepless nights.” 

Bucky approaches the hammock and inspects the threaded white ropes. The sweet smell of lavender fills his senses and he can feel his tense muscles relax slightly. 

“Rest easy, soldier,” you tell him.

You turn away from him intending to rest in your room for the night but Bucky calls out your name. 

“You were going to stay here tonight, weren’t you?” he asks. “That’s why you’re out here so late.”

You offer him another soft smile and he returns it. The feeling doesn’t change. He is warm again and you enjoy it. 

“Goodnight, Bucky.” 

But I, I can feel it take a hold 

I can feel you take control

Of who I am and all I've ever known

Loving you's the antidote 

Bucky hears unfamiliar laughter coming from the kitchen. It is light and full of life that he’s drawn to it immediately. It shouldn’t surprise him to find you are the cause of it. He already knows your smile shines like the rising sun meaning that your laughter is the melody of waking birds and bees. 

His presence is instantly noticed but it doesn’t make your smile disappear. Instead, it seems to grow brighter at the sight of him. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” T’Challa greets him with a nod. “Good morning.” 

“Mornin’, your Majesty,” Bucky responds before glancing over at you. “Y/N.” 

“Morning,” you whisper in return. 

You hide your smile behind your coffee mug and shift your gaze back to T’Challa. 

“Steve and Sam were looking for you for your morning run,” T’Challa tells him. “They didn’t find you in your room.” 

The grin that T’Challa offered him was enough for Bucky to know that he was aware of where he spent his night. Bucky can’t fight the rush of warmth on his cheeks so he just nods and turns towards the coffee pot. 

“Sleep well?” you ask him. 

“I did,” he answers, sparing a glance at you. “Thanks to you.” 

“I did nothing,” you respond. “It was just the power of my garden.” 

Your shared look with T’Challa after your response doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but before he can ask for an explanation you’re already standing to leave. 

“I have to get going,” you sigh. “I have a garden to upkeep.” 

With that said, you leave and Bucky catches the soft fragrance of the vanilla and jasmine in your hair. It soothes him again and he wonders what kind of magic and grace you were made of to enchant him in this way. 

“She’s special, isn’t she?” 

Bucky looks up at T’Challa having forgotten his presence for a second.

“Yeah…” he answered. “Yeah, she is.” 

“She’s taken a liking to you. She rarely allows visitors in her garden.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s a work in progress,” T’Challa explains. “Just like she is.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N is… unique and life has not been easy on her,” T’Challa explains. “You might say she shares the same struggles that you do.”

That strikes him. It strikes Bucky hard. 

“Hydra?” he asks quietly. 

T’Challa nods slowly.

“She wasn’t aware of it at the time. It all came to light when SHIELD was dismantled to reveal its Hydra operatives. Y/N was in a training facility at the time being studied and analyzed. I believe you can derive what that might have meant if she was in Hydra’s hands all the time.” 

Bucky was having a hard time believing what T’Challa had just told him. 

You were a blooming flower. A bundle of sunshine and heaven.The light that shines through the dark rain. 

You showed no sign of trauma or abuse but Bucky knew too well of how scars can easily be hidden. He just never knew that you knew that too. 

“What did they do to her?” 

“I’ve spoken enough on her behalf,” T’Challa states. “That is a story only she can tell.” 

With those parting words, T’Challa takes his leave allowing Bucky to think over everything he’s been told. He didn’t know where to go from here, but there was one place where he could start. 

Golden

You're so golden

I don't wanna be alone

He finds you laying in the hammock staring at the few stars that shone through the branches of the tree. You were floating between the realm of sleep and consciousness but you wake as the whispers of the flowers near you alert you of your new visitor. 

You sit up and smile watching how Bucky nervously remained in the outskirts. You motion for him to join you and surprisingly he does. 

“Hi,” you greet him. “Long time no see.” 

Bucky chuckles at your greeting.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him. 

“Something’s been lingering in my mind since this morning,” he answers as he settles next to you. “Something that T’Challa mentioned.” 

You hum knowing where this conversation was shifting to. T’Challa had always been protective of you. He had proven it by bringing you to Wakanda and allowing you to heal in the pace that you needed to. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he hoped to open you up to others. You had been on your own for too long. 

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask. 

Bucky hesitates to respond which was answer enough for you.

“How much did he tell you?”

“Just that you were in a facility in which Hydra was secretly operating.”

“So he left the juicy bits out,” you whisper. “Figures.” 

“What did they do to you?” 

You lay back down into the hammock. The trees waved their branches with no aid of the wind. You knew it had to do with you as you recalled that period of your life.

“When I was younger, I had this gift,” you explain. “I had this way with plant life. I could manipulate them, create and destroy, mostly create. I could even, as crazy as it sounds, could communicate with them.” 

As you speak, the lavender flowers that were under the hammock begin to bloom showing a small extent of the power you once had. Bucky takes notice of it as the smell floats into the air. 

“I wanted to help people in any way I can,” you continue. “I knew that this gift could help in one way or another so when I was approached by SHIELD to help develop and study my ability I agreed.” 

“They took me to a facility. Isolated me from friends and family because I had to remain focused on the study. They just poked and prodded me with needles and toxins. I… They told me that they wanted to amplify my ability but all they did was hinder it.”

You pause your story to raise the sleeves of your shirt to reveal the scars of the injection sites to him. 

“They grew angry. They blamed me for the failure of their experiments. I should have known then that they weren’t who they said they were but I still held on to hope that maybe one day I would become what they needed me to be.” 

You raise your hand and try to will a flower to grow but nothing occurs. A dry laugh covers up your disappointment as you look over at Bucky. 

“They took my gift,” you tell him. “They took parts of me away too.” 

“You’re still here,” Bucky tells you as he takes a hold of your hand. “They didn’t take you. You’re still here.” 

“Perhaps,” you answer quietly. “The path of recovery is a long one. T’Challa helped me recover my gift but the psychological toll… That’s the one thing that’s holding me back.” 

You turn to face him fully now to find him scowling. No sign of his smile on the horizon. 

“How do you manage it?” you ask him. “What they did to you?” 

Bucky is silent as he thought of his response. He wished he could help you in the way that you’ve helped him, but he can’t. 

“I haven’t yet,” he whispers back. “But the moment I know the answer, I’ll let you know.” 

You're so golden

I'm out of my head

And I know that you're scared

Because hearts get broken

Bucky wakes as the sun starts to slip into the sky. This would be the second time he’s been able to sleep a full night. No nightmares to plague him or anxieties to stir him awake. A full night of dreams filled with hope and peace and he had you to thank for it. 

You, who at the moment, was currently resting right next to him. 

He’s surprised to find you in this position blaming the swinging hammock and the lavender flowers below for lulling both of you to sleep. There was no other reason for anyone to ever be this comfortable sleeping anywhere near him. 

He was a murderer, a terrorist, a criminal. 

And you… you were flowers, and light, and dreams. 

Bucky had no right to be anywhere near you. 

Not when he was a mess and you were doing your best to put yourself back together. He might have not been the one to break you but he might as well have. He had been the face of Hydra for so long. Bucky couldn’t fathom the thought as to why you would so eagerly want his presence. 

Unless you didn’t. 

Maybe you were too nice to push him away. Maybe you entertained him because you were too afraid to run away. Maybe your garden was a safe haven that he had come to disrupt. 

Bucky watched as you continued to sleep through the dark storm that was running through his mind. 

You looked peaceful in your sleep. Free from the restraints that came to find you when you woke. 

When you open your eyes, Bucky would be the first thing you’ll see and he couldn’t bear the thought of having you wake up to him; a monster. 

Bucky has no other choice. There is only one way to save you from himself and it is to remove himself entirely. So he slips out of the hammock as carefully as he can before leaving your garden once and for all. 

I know that you're scared

Because I'm so open

It’s been a silent couple of days and you have yet to get used to it. You had forgotten how cold and dry it can be to be surrounded in it. Not even the ever warm sun could get rid of the chill of it.

It’s been a long couple of days since you last saw Bucky. Even his friends seemed to forego their morning runs to avoid meeting you. 

You didn’t know why there was a sudden change. 

Had it been something you did? Was it something you said? 

You peered over the hedge hoping to catch sight of any of them roaming around the compound but no one ever appeared to give you an answer. 

Your mood started to shift into a dark place. As much as you tried to avoid it, you couldn’t help the dark thoughts that crept into your mind. 

You drove him away. You showed him your scars and it drove him away. Your darkness scared him off. 

The vines crawling up the wall shriveled down and the flowers no longer wished to bloom. Your garden was slowly sealing itself off and you couldn’t help the tears that rose in your eyes at the sight of it. 

This was the effect you had. 

Sucking up the life that laid around you. 

Your heart is beating fast and you can’t hear anything but the sound of your shallow breaths. 

It shouldn’t surprise you when you find strong arms embracing you from behind. A hushed whisper is spoken into your ear but all you can focus on is your once lively garden fading away. 

“Breathe, Y/N. Just breathe.” 

So you do and it takes everything out of you. You're sobbing so hard that your whole body trembles. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok,” T’Challa assures you. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“I killed everything,” you whisper. “I always end up killing everything.” 

“And yet you always bring them back to life,” T’Challa reminds you as he pulls away. “You always breathe life back into it.” 

“Maybe not this time…” 

“Y/N,” T’Challa sighs. “You haven’t had a panic attack in quite some time. What triggered it?” 

You hesitate to respond. You didn’t want to speak your insecurities out loud. 

“It’s been too silent,” you answer looking away from the king. “Where did everyone go? I haven’t heard anything in the past couple of days.” 

T’Challa takes a deep breath as he realizes what you tried so hard to avoid. 

“Do you really care to know of the Captain’s whereabouts or are you asking specifically about his best friend?”

You shoot him a glare and T’Challa is relieved to see something besides sadness in your eyes. 

“They’re all still here,” he answers. “But they… he is not doing so well.” 

That quickly captures your attention.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him. “Is Bucky ok?” 

T’Challa shakes his head. 

“Bucky seems to be having some dark days too. He refuses any kind of help and it's affecting all of them to watch him suffer alone.” 

“What can I do to help?” you ask. 

“I don’t think it would be wise…” 

“T’Challa, please, I want to help him,” you interrupt. “He shouldn’t be going through this alone.” 

T’Challa hesitates but he notices the flowers blooming once more and the grass becomes greener. 

You were healing already and he was taken back by the quick recovery. 

“Very well,” he gives in. “Bucky is in his room. You should go see him.” 

You're so golden

I don't wanna be alone

You're so golden

Bucky lays in his bed encompassed by the darkness he decided to surround himself in. He could hear Steve and Sam pace outside his door trying to find the magic words that will get him out of bed. 

There are none, but they still try. 

He hasn’t been able to kick himself out of the mood he found himself in. It’s been weeks since he’s had a lapse and one that seemed darker than the previous ones. 

Bucky closes his eyes hoping to gain a few minutes of sleep, but it evaded him. The sound of Steve’s heavy steps on the floor did nothing to help and Bucky is ready to yell for him to stop when it suddenly does. 

He frowns and it deepens when he hears your voice.

“I heard he isn’t doing well. I came by to see him.” 

“That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think he’ll want you to see him this way.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving, and if he’s going to go days without eating or drinking some water then so am I.” 

“Y/N, I…”

“I’m going in.” 

Bucky shuts his eyes when the door is suddenly swung open. The light from the hallway blinded him immediately.

It doesn’t end there. 

You stalk across the room and fling his curtains aside allowing the rising sun to cast its light through every part of the room. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky groans. 

You don’t respond. Instead, you move away from his windows and slip into the bed. You shove the covers away and settle right next to him. 

“It’s people,” you tell him. “That’s the answer.” 

“What?” Bucky asks, confused. 

“People make it better.” 

Bucky is still scowling at you. He had no idea what you were talking about. You let out a sigh in response before setting your hand on his face. You soothed away the wrinkles and offered him a smile.

“The answer to our question,” you explain. “The one about how to manage what they did to us… Its people. Surrounding ourselves with people who care about us.”

You settle closer to him. So close you can feel his breath brush across your face. 

“And you, Bucky, are sunlight and air and rain,” you tell him. “You are a storm, a blazing sun, an unstoppable wind. Nothing can drive me away from you so let me stay here with you. Let me stay until you feel better.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to respond so he lets his actions speak for him. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch when he realizes that you’re right. He moves his body against yours laying his head into the crook of your neck. 

He wanted to bask in your sunlight while you basked in his rain. 

Two miraculous force of nature working as one allows you to create life out of nothing. 

Vines start to creep through the cracks and corners of the room, growing and spreading throughout the floor and ceiling around the bed, the buds slowly blooming into iridescent flowers. 

You’re so golden

I’m out of my head

And I know that you’re scared

Because hearts get broken

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[arse-crack-thistle]

rwrb winterfest - day 18 - music

@rwrb-fests​ 

in which my dear princess bea needs a little comfort at christmastime (ace rep)

Bea always has a hard time around Christmas. 

Part of it has to do with her father. She seems to find new pieces of him to miss every day. Today, it’s his laugh—the deep chuckle he lets out when David jumps on his lap and licks his face or when he’s had a little too much brandy and Bea says something sarcastic and rude about her grandmother. 

She misses how the family used to gather around a table in one of the sitting rooms in Kensington and play gin rummy at Christmastime. The tree would stand tall in the corner. Their father insisted they decorate it themselves, despite Philip’s disapproval. It looked sloppy covered in tinsel and an assortment of colorful lights and ornaments. The star at the top tilted towards the left, but at least the tree filled the room with a delicate pine scent. The fire burned at a soft glow, and everyone around the table laughed and wore paper crowns from their Christmas crackers. It didn’t matter who they were, they were just a normal family.

Now, the room feels cold, even though the fire cracks across from her. In the corner, the bare tree sags. She hasn’t had the energy to decorate it herself since Henry’s been in New York, and while she and Philip have reconciled their differences, he’s never really liked this part of their family’s traditions. Her mother works a ton since stepping up as the heir apparent, so Bea didn’t want to bother her either. Her cat meows next to her on the couch.

Christ, she wants a hit. She wants something to wipe her memory and just let her be. She just might reach for the brandy on the liquor cart. Why did she convince Henry she could handle it being here? Or that she could handle him leaving?

No, he needs to live his life without her, even if she misses him. The hardest part about being ace is watching her people find their person.

She’s happy for Henry and she loves Alex, but she’s lonely when they’re gone. And with loneliness comes dark thoughts. And the chance she will relapse multiplies. 

Bea should call her sponsor. Or Henry. Or literally anyone. She knows they’ll answer. She knows she’s loved. But the only person she wants to hold her and make Christmas special again can’t.

She really misses her father.

Bea leaves the room. She puts as much space between her and the brandy as she can. When her fingers itch for something, she must fill them, and the best remedy is music.

Her favorite room in this place looks exactly how she left it the day before. The piano sits, awaiting Henry. The mismatch of rugs were her idea—benders with musicians in Galway inspired her, or what she remembered of them did. The cat finds her way to her spot on the brown settee. 

Before picking up a guitar, Bea passes tchotchkes from their travels on an antique side table. Nesting dolls from Russia. A Statue of Liberty figurine from their first trip to the U.S. A toorstag from Henry’s month in Mongolia. A coconut bra from Bea’s drunk cruise in the Caribbean. She’s since become a more sensitive and culturally-minded traveler. 

She sits with the instrument on the floor, her back against the settee. This particular guitar was a gift from her father on her fourteenth birthday. It was handmade for her, and her initials sit just below the artisan’s label under the sound hole. The koa wood has a rich, dark finish; Bea likes to drag her finger across the wood grain when she’s deciding what to play next or when she’s lost in her thoughts in between songs. When her father first gave it to her, the sound was bright and lively, but in the time since, it’s become mellow and warm. Perfect for fingerpicking.

She plays a few chords as she tunes it. Her cat purrs behind her ear. Crystal from the chandelier above her twinkles. She settles in the quiet moment and plays.

But there’s no heart in it.

Bea thought if she changed her scenery, if she gave herself something to do, she’d get out of this riptide. But every song, every passing minute, pulls her further and further out.

If no one’s around to hear her play, is it really music?

Is this her safe space if no one’s here to create its harmony with her?

She’s so lonely.

And the tune is as frozen as she feels.

It’s times like these she wishes she wanted her grandmother’s happily ever after—marry a man, pop out a couple of kids, and be a dutiful royal. But she can’t. The thought of marrying someone, of making and raising children, of being a mindless princess puppet actually nauseates her.

If only she had her own community of people like her, she might be able to rely on Henry less. Her other married friends wouldn’t feel so bad for her. She could just go on ignoring her grandmother and Philip, when he gets to be too much. Her mother wouldn’t worry as much.

And not that she wouldn’t miss her father less, but maybe she wouldn’t feel so empty without him here.

Maybe the soul could find its way back into her music.

So Bea snaps herself out of it just enough to text Pez and ask for his Instagram login. She has a plan that her handler—and her grandmother, for that matter—would definitely disapprove of.

But fuck the crown.

Bea needs to take her life in her own hands and demand more for herself. She needs help to feel better, but she has to be the one to initiate. If Henry could do it, so could she. 

Part of the AA mantra is to have the courage to change the things she can. 

She’s got it, and she can do it.

Pez responds quickly and without question, of course. She sets her guitar to the side and downloads the app. After she logs in, she leans forward and rests the phone against the floor pouf in front of her.

Bea takes a deep breath and starts a livestream, and the viewer count immediately skyrockets. Her grandmother is really going to hate this.

“Um, hello,” she says. “I’m sure you all weren’t expecting to see me, but our friend, Percy, was kind enough to lend me his account for a short while. I hope that’s all right.”

She shifts a little uncomfortably. She never minded the spotlight as long as she could control it, but even now, she feels more venerable than ever. Last year’s Christmas pajamas hang loosely on her. Surely, her reindeer bottoms will go viral, as she sits with her legs crisscrossed in full view of the camera. Her cat mews.

“Yes, thank you for that, darling,” She says to her and then looks to the camera.

“I just wanted to come on here to talk to you all. See, as we’re in the holiday season, it’s all a bit overwhelming, isn’t it? And in all of this hustle and bustle, one finds they get a bit lost along the way.

“I’ve noticed this in myself every year, but this time it’s more frustrating. I’ve just been feeling rather lonely lately, as one can during this chilly time, so I thought maybe you lot have experienced that as well. I wanted to connect with people like me. I don’t mean, like, I want to wallow in my problems—or that I have especially difficult problems—I mean I know I’m very fortunate—I just—um. Let me—let me straighten this out.”

She sighs. This could be a disaster. She could come off entitled and whiny if she doesn’t focus more on her words.

“It seems the people in my life all have a partner, and I am so happy for them, truly. But I don’t want a partner or a relationship of any nature other than friendship. And so during this time of year—and, I suppose, other times as well—I find myself the odd woman out.

“For example, here I am, alone in this place, with only my cat, with whom you’ve already become acquainted. Now, I know I’m very lucky to have this, but it’s empty houses that can lead people down a dark path, isn’t it?”

Bea needs to say the words. She needs to make it very clear. She watches the screen flood with comments and hearts. Hundreds of thousands of people are watching, and tomorrow she’s going to be on every media outlet.

“I’m aromantic and asexual, if that wasn’t clear. I can’t and don’t want to fall in love, and not that it’s anyone’s business, I’m not even faintly interested in sex. And that may be confusing for some of you, but for me, it makes my life, my mind, make sense.”

She’s slowly but surely finding her way back to shore now.

“For years, I thought there was something wrong with me, but there’s not. I thought the only way I could be happy was to be in a relationship, but it’s not. And if you yourself are ace as well, I want you to know you’re not alone.

“This is the real reason why I did all of this. I was lonely and sad tonight, and I wanted you all to know that if you feel that too, it’s okay. I hope I can learn about and grow in the ace community—not to replace my happily coupled friends, but to explore new friendships with people who can understand what I and some of you are going though.

“We’ve been taught that there’s one way to be happy, and I just don’t think that’s true. And I’m willing to prove it if you’ll help me. Starting now.”

Bea reaches for her guitar and places it in her lap. She finds the first chord of “Horchata” by Vampire Weekend. A text notification from Henry pops down.

HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

A smile creeps up her cheeks.

“Something I love to do when I’m down is to pick out a little tune. If it’s all right with you, I thought I’d play a round for us. Maybe answer a few questions if you’ve got any.”

Bea picks the first note, and the tone is perfect.

She feels warmth grow in her chest and travel around her arms and down her back.

Like her father hugging her from behind, arms crossed over her shoulders.

Just like he used to do many Christmases ago.

[liberty-barnes]

Miah’s 1K Celebration

so...

welcome to the mess that is my 1k celebration cause i’m unable to make simple choices and can’t stand the thought of letting people down

as you can see, i’m perfectly normal

the literal 1005 people following me would disagree on that but heyyy details

so anyway

one thousand

one bloody thousand people following me

my inicial reaction is whyyyy??? i’m just a bisexual disaster who sometimes writes a half decent fanfic but you deemed me worthy of your follow?

then i started crying cause yk

but bottomline is, i love you all, you’re the bestest people in the whole entire world, so i’m gonna make both a sleepover and a writing challenge

sleepover cause i like answering questions

writing challenge cause it gives me a chance to show you all other artists and discover other artists myself cause we all need them and they deserve more recognition

special shoutout to my mutuals who i’ll tag at the end for always being there for me and supporting me through every high and every low, y’all are the real heroes here

BUT ANYWAY, ONTO THE CELEBRATION PART, WHICH FINDS ITSELF UNDER THE CUT OTHERWISE IT’D BE TOO BIG TO PROPERLY REBLOG (i tend to ramble a bit, but you already knew that)

Starts: December 11th 2020

Ends: December 20th 2020

Who can participate: everyone, anon or not! no need to be following me either

send me asks for:

✨ my opinion on...

🌻 cast my mutuals as...

🎵 i'll put my playlist on shuffle and give you a song

🍉 random fact about me

🦔 what's my favorite...

🍀 i'll give you advice (or just listen to you rant, if you want)

💬 last text [insert person] sent me

💌 handwritten letter

🎬 movie rec

📖 fic or blog rec

📘 inspiration behind [insert fic name], how i came up with it or if you have questions about it

🖋 line from one of my WIPs (tell me if you want fluff or angst, i won't tell you the pairing or anything, that's no fun)

💋 kiss, date, marry [insert people]

🎤 give me a song an i'll do a mini cover of it (it will be 1min long tops cause that's all tumblr can take lmao)

📷 random picture from my camera roll (you can request a theme if you want, like pictures from my childhood or awkward pics or something)

Rules:

• Open to anyone (don't have to be following me)

• Send me a DM or ask with the prompt(s) you want (two people tops per work) and who you're writing about

• Smut is allowed but make sure to put it in the warnings

• I will accept works for any Marvel character or cast member, part of the Holland clan, 1D member or affiliated, Teen Wolf characters or cast member, Maze Runner character or cast member

• Can be reader inserts or not, but please specify it in your DM/ask too

• Tag me when you're done

• All works will be rebloged under #Miah's 1k writing challenge and put in a masterlist that will be specifically created for this writing challenge

Starts: December 11th 2020

Ends: January 11th 2020

Prompt list:

1. “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

2. “Home stopped being a place when you entered my life.”

3. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

4. “Could you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice.”

5. “Can you just please hold me?”

6. “You come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes.”

7. “Can I stay here tonight?”

8. “You’re really warm.”

9. “I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids.”

10. “Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.”

11. “You are crushing me right now.”

12. “Darling I love you and all, but please get out of my kitchen.”

13. "I leave you alone for five minutes and this happens."

14. "I didn't fall. The floor looked lonely so I wanted to hug it." "Then why are you crying?" "It was an emotional reunion."

15. "There's no such thing as too many fairy lights."

16. “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.”

17. “I love you.” “No you don’t”

18. “Any other lies left to tell me?”

19. “I miss the old you.”

20. “What happened to their happily ever after?” “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

21. “Lie to me. I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

22. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

23. "It's okay. It's not your fault that I couldn't be enough."

24. "Please don't leave me."

25. "You have the emotional range of a teaspoon."

26. "Will you shut up for once in your life?"

27. "This isn't about us."

28. "I will shove a christmas tree so far up your ass that when you open your mouth we'll see the fairy lights."

29. "I'm not crying, my eyes are sweating"

30. "Is that blood?" "Yes, but it's not mine." "Is that supposed to make it better?"

31. "I’ll drink to that.” “You drink to everything.” “Cheers!”

32. “Why is arson always your first answer?”

33. "What are you doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing?"

34. "I can explain!" "Then explain." "Okay, I can't explain."

35. "Get out of here with your facts. Just because you're accurate does not mean you're interesting."

36. "How many hearts did you break while trying to keep yours intact?"

37. "I know everything. It's in the job description."

38. "One more word out of you and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth."

39. "Do you listen to girl in red?"

40. "Is that code for something or am I just paranoid?"

41. "With how things have been going, I might as well start working at a circus."

42. "I love (him/her/them)." "Then why did you give up?" "Cause (he/she/they) deserved better."

43. "I want to ask but something tells me the answer will be more disturbing than anything I can think of."

44. "Do you think he's... *flicks wrist*?"

45. "Do I look like an idiot to you?" "Do you want me to answer that honestly or politely?"

46. "Just how clumsy are you?"

47. "So... the weather?"

48. "Just leave."

49. "Don't you fucking dare!"

50. "You don't have to talk right now. But whenever you're ready, if you're ever ready, I'll be here to listen."

tagging and complimenting my amazing mutuals cause y’all deserve it

@parkersbliss​ thank you for marrying me, first of all, and for being the most amazing wife one could ask. i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and i will never stop ebing thankful for your existence

@peterspideyy​ thank you for listening to my rants along with grace and supporting me during all my simping, you’re the sweetest thing existing since powdered sugar

@theamazingtomholland​ thank you for always putting a smile on my face, reminding me that i’m loved everyday and just being you, cause it’s the best thing you could be

@lozzypoz321​ thank you for listening to me rant abt my fics and how much i hate writing and then motivating me to write again or do basic things like get out of bed lmao (we still have the best taste in music)

@everything-is-alrightt​ kenzie lovely, thank you for being the pure little ball of unfiltered joy that you are cause even thinking about you and the jump shit your brothers get up to makes me smile like crazy, you’re amazing and don’t you dare forget it

@spider-trash​ thank you for being my brother, going alon with my ridiculous schemes for corrupting posie and making me laugh out loud every time you come up with something even worse, you’re the coolest bro i could ask for

and finally, thank you @fallinfortom​ for inspiring me to write in the first place, being an amazing mum to us, an actual good role model for me to have and for your random appearances in my dreams and the fun english teacher who makes us read tom holland fics instead of english literature. you’re amazing and i’m incredibly thankful to know you

love you all to the ends of the universe and back again, Miah

[littledreamybeth]

What a feeling

PLEASE READ AUTHORS NOTE: I really tried to write a good story here, but I’m so bad at creating smut. Some things may not make much sense to you because I didn’t explain or depict them properly. I’m sorry for that- I really am. I consider to stop writing because my writing  doesn’t seem to be good anymore... at least in my eyes... It’s hard for me to describe things in a language which is not my mother tongue... I’d like to thank you for reading my stories so far, and for supporting me. I won’t be writing anything for a while, but my work is still going to be up. Just don’t steal them, and give me credits if you repost it somewhere... Thank you...

This work was inspired by “What a feeling”- One Direction, the title of this story is dedicated to my favorite song of all time. I had to think of a scenario like this at Harry’s part.

Harry observed her from the other side of the room. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his naked torso, he just watched the half bare girl sitting on top of his bed. Her legs were bent to her chest, a thoughtful look lingering in her eyes. A few minutes ago, they were making out, resulting his shirt being pulled over his head and thrown onto the ground whilst she was completely freed from her dress. He knew what she was thinking about. She considered whether she should or should not have sex with him.

They had been dating for a few months, and never had Harry urged her to have sexual intercourse. He’d been told that she had negative experiences with her ex-boyfriends on this topic, because she was never ready for sex. And who would stay with a girl who wasn’t ready for more? Sometimes, it was even thought that she was asexual, which was not true. Harry was not like her former boyfriends- he actually gave her time as much as needed.

Tonight, however, was different. She was ready- or maybe not? Harry sighed, walking towards her and kneeling in front of her.

“Hey,” he murmured, his left hand cupping her cheek, forcing her to look at him. “You’re uncertain. I can see it in your eyes.” The other hand was placed on top of her leg, trailing up and down in comfort. He wanted to make sure this is truly what she wanted. Even though he craved to be physically interlocked with her more than anything in that moment, he’d still understood if she decided against succumbing to him. It takes a lot of courage surrendering to someone and giving yourself in to them-especially if it’s your first time. You lose your virginity only once, and one terrible experience may scar you for the rest of your life. So, he could completely comprehend her worry. Another thing, which he knew was plaguing her, was that he was already experienced while she wasn’t. She was new to all of this. For fucks sake, she didn’t even blow anyone ever in her life. She was just so pure. Pure and perfect. Harry was sure she was tormenting herself into believing that he wouldn’t like it, which is not true at all. Much more, he would love to be the one being enclosed with her body and honored because she chose him to lose her v-card, and not a prick who wouldn’t care about anything but his dick in his pants anyway. Harry would make sure she was taken care of. Thoroughly taken care of.

“I promise, there is nothing that you have to be scared of, love. We’ll do it at your pace, okay? The only thing you have to do is telling me when you feel uncomfortable, and I’ll stop instantly.” He intertwined their hands, bringing hers in front of his mouth, then plastering soft kisses on top of her knuckles. “But you have to tell me. Say something. Use your words. Otherwise I cannot tell what you want. And don’t overthink too much. This is all about you, not me.”

The curve of her lips went slightly up, forming a shy smile. “I know,” she stated. “I trust you, Harry. I entrust myself to you…”

Hearing those words out of her sweet lips was what he had been waiting for. But before he took some action, he again inquired whether she was hundred percent sure, only earning an approving nod from Y/N. He beamed a happy, toothy smile at her.

“Come here, beautiful girl.” His order was gentle, yet very firm- enough to cause goose bumps on her skin. He carefully pushed her down onto the mattress and slowly lowered himself onto her body, hovering only a few centimeters above her fragile frame. The warmth that radiated off his body was so overwhelming- it became very hard to breathe. That’s probably how others felt in his presence. Breathless, because Harry is so insanely beautiful, god really must have taken his time to carve his handsome face. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, her tongue wetted her lower lip while she felt her heart beating rapidly as if she was running a marathon. She gave in to the sensation that his close proximity brought along. The feeling of his fingers sliding down her right cheek and his minty breath fanning against her lips caused excitement to grow in the pit of her stomach- and a little bit down below. She tried to conceal it by pressing her legs together, but Harry noticed and slid between them, pushing his crotch intentionally against her clothed one, eliciting a short gasp out of her throat. If this short act was enough to make her legs tremble, then Y/N couldn’t envision how it was going to feel when he would thrust in and out of her.

She jumped slightly in her position when she heard his raspy voice inside her ear.  

“Look at me before I kiss you…”

That’s what she did. She opened her lids and locked gazes with his deep green eyes. They stared at her lustfully, enamored with her beauty, and Y/N could only imagine how hard it must be for him to control his patience. The more she looked at him, the more she drowned in his captivating eyes. She saw herself in them. She saw herself running through a grass field on a hot summer’s day, dressed in a stunning dress, her hair flipping with the wind while she let everything behind her- her worries, her fears, her problems- basically every negativity that consumed her. She saw herself in a forest, listening to the sounds that nature provided her. The murmurs of a stream, the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves on the trees, the smell of fresh air; all of this gave her the feeling of safety and protection. That’s how she felt with Harry now. She knew she was in good hands. And she could confirm she was ready.

“Remember what I’ve told you, alright?” Harry reminded her. “You can even push me out of the bed for all I care. But please, don’t kick me in the knob. I want to produce children after all.”

Y/N had to laugh at his statement. She really appreciated his efforts to lighten up the mood.

“My beautiful, Y/N,” the young man whispered against her soft lips. “My beautiful, gorgeous, adorable Y/N.” Upon that, he finally kissed her.

First, it was gentle. He wanted to test her waters, looking for how much she was willing to give him. She was shy and he respected that. But on the other hand, he also wanted to help her overcoming the shyness. He knew that she had more in her than she was revealing to the world. He wanted that part of her to break through, fighting her way onto the surface.

While he used one arm to support himself on his elbow, the other hand wandered up from her bare side to her chest. He cupped one breast and gave it a gentle squeeze through her bra. The sudden jolts of pleasure caused Y/N to moan in ecstasy. Harry took this opportunity to let his tongue slip past her lips, exploring the already familiar territory. They never went further than just kissing, as embarrassing as it might sound. Tonight would be the first time they would be taking their relationship to the next level.

Harry chuckled when he poked her sides and she flinched, letting out a squeak.

He disconnected their lips, giving her time to explore his body. The young woman accepted his invitation. With her fingers, she carefully stroked his well-toned belly, tracing the outline of his butterfly tattoo. His muscles tensed under her soft touch. She even tickled his belly button which Harry found just cute. Everything about her was adorable. However, she halted over the hem of his tight jeans. One tug was indication enough to understand that she wanted it off his legs. So, he got up, unbuttoned his jeans and pushed it down his ankles, leaving him almost completely bare. The only thing that he had to get rid of was his boxers. Y/N’s irises enlarged when they saw the outline of his erection- he was, well… huge. A blush in a deep shade of red adorned the apple of her cheeks. She wasn’t even sure whether she could take in all of him, and that’s were the overthinking started again.

Harry took notice of the uncertainty plastered on her face. Joining her again on the bed, he hoisted her up and placed her on his lap. He brushed her fingers through her hair. “Listen Y/N, I want you, I really do, and I know you want me, too. But we don’t have to do this right now. We can always save it for later, there is no need to rush. Don’t feel like it’s your obligation to satisfy my needs- it is not. I’ll be waiting for you no matter how long it’ll take.”

Her heart could literally burst into flames at his words. How many men out there were just as considerate and understanding as Harry Styles, and not only thinking about themselves? Probably not too many.

Y/N lowered her head for a second, then looked at him determined. “I want to make love to you, Harry… It’s just…” she sighed. “I’m very nervous.”

“I know that, my love. Do you think I’m not nervous? I’m the one with a dick after all, and I don’t want to hurt you. I couldn’t forgive myself if I did, because I want this to be the best experience you’ve ever had. If we do this, there is no return. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

The young woman passionately crushed her lips against his. “I know I won’t, because it’s with you.”

He offered her a smile, warming her insides.

His hands found their way to her back, about to unclasp her bra, when he saw the quick panic flashing through her eyes- not because she was scared, but because it was unfamiliar and unexpected. Being undressed by someone else other than her was something she needed to get used to after tonight. Harry instantly stopped. “Relax, love. You’re safe with me.” He brought his lips to her neck, sucking and marking her skin. Y/N closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling.

After they got rid of her bra (together actually, because he thought that it would make her feel more comfortable), his big hands began to massage her bare breasts, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples, which hardened immediately at the contact.  

“How does it feel?” Harry inquired while continuing to give her breasts some attention.

“’s nice,” she answered, shivering when Harry pinched her nipples.

Guiding her back onto the mattress, he climbed on top of her again.

His lips were worshipping every part of her body. There was no inch he left untouched. She was a goddess- a pure, innocent goddess. She felt so soft. He treated her like fine china- cautiously and carefully; he didn’t want to demand more than she could endure.

At one point, he grinded his clothed crotch against hers a second time to get her worked and loosened up a little bit. The sounds emitting from her mouth was like music in his ears.

“Let’s get us free from these,” he suggested, pointing at their underpants.

His fingers rimmed the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down his legs. And there it sprung free- his beast, pointing directly at his abs. Y/N didn’t exaggerate when she claimed he was huge- because it was true. The tip was swollen and slightly red, leaking a bit of precum.

Harry caught her eyes staring at his ‘best friend’.

“Do you- do you want to hold it?” he asked.

She averted her gaze and looked at him. “I…” She cleared her throat, blushing. “I can try.”

“You don’t have to, love. Really.”

“No, I want to know how it feels.”

Without his request, she wrapped her fingers around the hard, pulsating flesh. It felt heavy in her hand. Harry flinched, hissing at her touch, and a deep groan reverberated through the walls as she glided her hand up and down his shaft. He supported himself on her shoulders while Y/N played around with him. She liked how desperately he called her name, how his eyes fluttered shut and the way he licked over and sunk his teeth in his lower lip. She was about to wrap her mouth around the base as Harry stopped her abruptly.

“What are you doing there?”

A frown adorned her forehead. “I- I wanted to… y’know…”

“Not today, sweet girl,” the curly-haired man laughed. “We will have plenty of time for that later. But for now, it’s all about you.”

He asked her to stretch out her legs so he could free her from the last material that covered her body. Y/N had never felt so vulnerable in her life as in that moment, however, one loving gaze from him was enough to flush her worries away. She watched him as he opened a cupboard and grabbed a condom. He opened the foil with his teeth, pulling out the condom and wrapping it around his member.

“Are you ready?”

“I am.”

He pulled her against him for another kiss. While their tongues were busy with dominating each other, Harry sneaked his hand down to her vagina, his fingers teasing her entrance. He first inserted one digit, pumping in and out of her, then adding another one. She moaned out in pleasure, opening her legs for more.

“Harry, please!” she cried.

The young man didn’t need to be told twice. He lined his member at the entrance of her wet core, and slowly yet gently eased his way in- inch by inch. The pain that followed through his intrusion was inevitable- whilst the wetness. Y/N’s body tensed, nails digging deep into the skin of his biceps as she tried to accommodate not only to the stretch of her walls but also the burning that came along with it. She couldn’t help a few tears from running down her cheeks. A little wail was heard once Harry was fully in. Harry kissed away her tears, giving her enough time to calm down and adjust to his size. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll take care of you… You gonna feel great, my love.”

Every cell in her body was on fire, vibrating. Despite the pain, she felt full and complete. Their bodies fitted together perfectly as if god had only created them for each other.

When the pain subsided a little bit, she allowed him to finally move. The young man complied. His thrusts were tender and slow, paying attention to not hurting her. Y/n was overwhelmed with different emotions. Everything crushed onto her at once. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest that she felt it was going to explode. Harry buried his face in the crook of her neck, and Y/N could feel his warm breath against her skin. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer.

Pain formed into pleasure, his thrusts became quicker and harder. Her legs enveloped his middle, widening for more access. He hit the right spots that let her see stars before her eyes so easily, spots that made her scream out his name. She felt beautiful and loved.

After a while, something was building up in her stomach, and she could feel her orgasm approaching. The way she already clenched around him indicated that she was very close to her high. He fastened his pace with the intention to make cum as fast as possible. He wasn’t chasing after his one- like he stressed before, it was all about her.  

A whimper left her lips, she knew she couldn’t hold back anymore. “Harry…”

“Let go, darling…” he encouraged her, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Words cannot describe fully what that moment of relief felt like. She could sense it reaching every fiber of her body. Her legs trembled and her toes curled, mouth agape as tears pooled her eyes. Harry thrusted her through her peek, until his movements became sloppy.

Shortly after finding his own release, Harry collapsed on top of her, resting his head on her chest. He didn’t pull out of her yet- he wanted to linger a little bit more in her warmth. His arms engulfed her middle. Their entire bodies were covered with sweat, but they could care less about it. Y/N was still dazed from the aftershock of her orgasm. She was basically on cloud nine. Everything that happened just minutes ago seemed like a dream. She always knew how she wanted her first time to be, but Harry had given her an experience that had surpassed her wildest imagination. She couldn’t be happier in this moment. A content sigh escaped her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around Harry’s shoulders, letting her one hand glide through his long, damp, brown locks. After a while, she heard a giggle rumbling his chest. She tilted her head in confusion.

“What wrong?”

Harry, steadying himself on his elbows, brought their lips back together, kissing her feverishly. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I think I can consider myself a king now...”

[bl--ankhaeji]

Lucky One (Donghyuck)

Pairing ~ Donghyuck x Reader 

Genre ~ Fluffyyyy

Warning ~ I really dont have anything to warn about. Except for that I wrote this one in an hour again so there may be misspelled anything(literally just had to correct misspelled words while writing this part) 

A/N ~ Another one of my bursts of inspiration again. I was laying in bed and reading something where the reader rubbed lotion on Jaehyun and this came to mind. Also hyuckie baby has been working really hard lately and I’ve been worried about him so I felt he deserved this.

W.Count ~ i’ve been neglecting word count on my past fics and honestly i’m prolly boutta do it on this one...sorry

The steam from the tub rose, creating a thin layer of fog to cover the room. Feeling the condensation start to clump on your face the heat causing you to let out a sigh. The bag of lavender scented bath salt sat on the side of the tub still slightly open from when you poured some over into the water. You had also emptied a packet of powdered bath milk into the steaming element making it turn a thin almost see through white. 

 The door to the apartment opens and then closes with a soft slam. “Babe, I’m home.” the tired lifeless words fall from Hyuck’s beautiful heart shaped lips. 

“In the bathroom!” You yell, taking a step back admiring your work. Rushing to the bedroom you two sleep in you see the weary boy laying face down on the bed, his bag half haphazardly thrown across the room. You crawl next to him laying down in the process facing each other. 

“Hey baby. How was your day at the store?” he questioned you.

You owned a music store, selling vinyls and used guitars and other things, but those two are how you met Hyuck. He accompanied Jaehyun one day to buy vinyls to which you later learned was because he promised to buy a meal for the boy and then another time he came with Jeno and Mark looking for guitars that’s when he asked you out and that’s how you two started. 

“My day was fine, a little slow though. How was yours beloved?” you smiled at the man across from you, just looking at him brought a smile to your face. 

“My day was tiring as usual lately. We have two music shows to prepare for and a weekly idol episode to film for 127. I know this is the life I asked for and I love it. I truly do, it's just sometimes it gets so draining and with both 127 and dream having comebacks back to back I’ve been running around a lot lately.” Seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and hearing the fatigue in his voice you knew that you planned perfectly. You love Donghyuck or as the rest of the world knows him, Haechan, and you love that he is happy doing what he loves, but even you know that this lifestyle can get really tiring that’s why you try to make things as relaxing as possible when he has time.

“Well it looks like you’re just in luck boy. You can thank me now for being the best girlfriend ever. I accept gifts only in the form of 100s thank you.” You say getting up off of the bed, softly slapping his back proceeding to drag him up. “Come on now, get up and look at what I’ve prepared for you baby.”

A giggle leaves his lips as he starts to follow you to the bathroom. Upon entering he is hit with the warm scent of apples. “What is all of this?” He asks with a smile noticeably creeping onto his face. 

“This” you start motioning to the still steaming water filled tub and yourself, “Is your personal relaxation spa for tonight. I know you’ve been very busy lately with everything you have going on and I just wanted to make a night where I can cater to you and help you unwind from everything.”

The look he gives you is filled with an insurmountable amount of love. It’s like he can feel himself falling the more he looks at the giddy grin on your face. Walking over to you he cradles your face in his hands and looks you in the eyes before planting a kiss so sweet you can feel your blood sugar rising. 

Breaking the kiss he starts to strip, nothing but the sound of his clothes and hitched breath from you is heard. His honey skin glows in the soft lighting of the room, no matter how many times you see him naked it will always surprise you just how beautiful he is. 

The sound of the water moving and a low hiss takes you out of your trance. Donghyuck can already feel the tension in his muscles loosening up, washing him in a serene calm. He hears you move behind him, to which he opens his eyes he didn’t even know were closed. 

“Tilt your head back for me beloved. I’m about to wash your hair.” And Hyuck’ll be damned if he didn’t immediately let you lather the shampoo on his scalp. He loved whenever you washed his hair, the feeling of you leisurely scratching his scalp whilst also managing to massage it always made his body as limp as a noodle. 

Grabbing a bowl you fill it with water and rinse out the shampoo. “Ok I’m-” “Nonono.” Hyuck whines grabbing your wrist preventing you from leaving his head. A laugh leaves your lips and you start back massaging his scalp. “At least wash yourself while I’m doing this, or we’ll be here all night unless you want me to do that too.” 

At your off the wet male looks up at you with a cheeky smirk and a face that basically screamed ‘Aye if you want I’m not gonna stop you’ “I would hit you right now, you better be glad this is supposed to be about you.” 

Releasing a boisterous laugh he starts to wash his body. 

~

Donghyuck stayed in the bath until the water got cold. You both were just sitting there laughing and talking about random things. Watching him dry off you head to the bedroom where you tell him to follow you after he put on his boxers. 

Pulling out the body oils you bought earlier that day you lay them on the bedside table. “What do you have planned now?” He questions looking at you sitting on the bed, waiting for him. 

“I told you I’m your personal spa. How can you have a spa day without a massage?”  

“My baby just went all out for me didn’t you?” He coos pinching your cheeks moving to lay on the bed. “I feel sorta bad I’m supposed to take care of you like this-” 

“Na-ah don’t come up in here with those gender standards mister. There is no what you’re ‘supposed to do’ we take care of each other, we love each other and dammit if I wanna take care of my baby boy and reward him for working so hard then I will.” 

Sitting on his booty you feel him clench his butt cheeks causing you to move faintly. A giggle falls from your lips smacking his back telling him to stop. The oil runs from the bottle onto his skin, layering the tissue in a thin layer of the shiny gloss. You work your hands, gently yet firmly pressing into the knots littering underneath. 

Pressing into his back you hear a groan leave his lips. “Fuckkkk that hurts but feels so good.” With a pleased smirk set upon your lips you gather more oil in your hands rubbing them together and then massaging it into his upper back. Near his shoulder blade you feel a pretty big knot. 

“Damn, this one might hurt. Im sorry.” You start slowly working away the almost physical form of stress. A high pitched whine leaves his lips as you really start to dig into the knot. Feeling it give way finally clearing it up entirely, you sit back on his thighs, a relieved sigh leaving Hyuck’s moistened lips. “Thank you, I’ve actually been hurting a little in that shoulder and it feels a lot better baby.  

Putting more oil along his back you start to move lower. The dimples above his butt indenting, you spot the cute mole on his left butt cheek fighting the urge to poke it, you move your fingers smoothly across his back. 

“Do you want me to massage your legs beloved?” 

Asking you to stand up Hyuck starts to put on his shirt,“No baby that’s ok. You’ve done a lot already and I feel so much better. You really are like a persona spa.” He says wrapping his arms around your torso, dragging you to lay on the bed next to him. 

“Let me turn on a movie.” you turn on Netflix and pick a random movie because you already know you and Hyuck will be sleeping anytime soon. You feel the beautiful male lay his head on your breasts snuggling up to you as the movie starts. 

A few minutes into the movie he tilts his head up looking at you, leaning up he plants a firm passionate kiss on your lips. “I love you baby. Thank you so much for being mine, I’m so lucky to have you.” he says in a hoarse deep voice filled with pre-sleep. “I love you too baby and it’s funny you think that because I swear everyday I’m the lucky one.”             

[tswiftdaily]

In the 2010s, she went from country superstar to pop titan and broke records with chart-topping albums and blockbuster tours. Now Swift is using her industry clout to fight for artists’ rights and foster the musical community she wished she had coming up.

One evening in late-October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became -- as it often does -- an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello -- the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in -- I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

Swift, who will celebrate her 30th birthday on Dec. 13, has been impossibly famous for nearly half of her lifetime. She was 16 when she released her self-titled debut album in 2006, and 20 when her second album, Fearless, won the Grammy Award for album of the year in 2010, making her the youngest artist to ever receive the honor. As the decade comes to a close, Swift is one of the most accomplished musical acts of all time: 37.3 million albums sold, according to Nielsen Music; 95 entries on the Billboard Hot 100 (including five No. 1s); 23 Billboard Music Awards; 12 Country Music Association Awards; 10 Grammys; and five world tours.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop -- hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 -- reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation -- which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West -- as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family -- there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” -- 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year -- starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to -- in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary -- claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights -- and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists -- and make them nonrecoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come -- and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise -- but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year -- like Saturday Night Live and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert -- I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say.

That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time recalibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way -- on your Tumblr page.

Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around -- they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

You’ve spoken in recent interviews about the general expectations you’ve faced, using phrases like “They’ve wanted to see this” and “They hated me for this.” Who is “they”? Is it social media or disparaging think pieces or --

It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue -- like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to?

Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop -- we all have each other’s numbers and text each other -- but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now?

God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally?

From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas.

The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent?

That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so.

“Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in -- if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about?

Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all?

I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists.

I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently -- staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals.

We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about recalibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers.

We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal -- not as a renegotiation ploy -- and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me.

Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take?

I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time?

Oh, God -- I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but … I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Billboard Woman of the Decade Taylor Swift: 'I Do Want My Music to Live On'

By: Jason Lipshutz for Billboard Magazine Date: December 14th issue

In the 2010s, she went from country superstar to pop titan and broke records with chart-topping albums and blockbuster tours. Now Swift is using her industry clout to fight for artists’ rights and foster the musical community she wished she had coming up.

One evening in late October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became - as it often does - an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello - the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in - I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

Swift, who will celebrate her 30th birthday on Dec. 13, has been impossibly famous for nearly half of her lifetime. She was 16 when she released her self-titled debut album in 2006, and 20 when her second album, Fearless, won the Grammy Award for album of the year in 2010, making her the youngest artist to ever receive the honor. As the decade comes to a close, Swift is one of the most accomplished musical acts of all time: 37.3 million albums sold, according to Nielsen Music; 95 entries on the Billboard Hot 100 (including five No. 1s); 23 Billboard Music Awards; 12 Country Music Association Awards; 10 Grammys; and five world tours.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop - hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 - reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation - which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West - as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family - there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” - 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year, starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to - in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary - claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights, and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists - and make them non-recoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come - and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise - but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year - like SNL and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert - I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say. That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time re-calibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way - on your Tumblr page. Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around - they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

You’ve spoken in recent interviews about the general expectations you’ve faced, using phrases like “They’ve wanted to see this” and “They hated me for this.” Who is “they”? Is it social media or disparaging think pieces or... It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue - like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to? Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop - we all have each other’s numbers and text each other - but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now? God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas. The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent? That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so. “Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in - if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about? Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all? I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists. I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently - staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals. We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about re-calibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers. We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal - not as a renegotiation ploy - and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me. Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take? I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time? Oh, God - I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but... I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

Taylor Swift Discusses 'The Man' & 'It's Nice To Have a Friend' In Cover Story Outtakes

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 12th 2019

During her cover story interview for Billboard’s Women In Music issue, Taylor Swift discussed several aspects of her mega-selling seventh studio album Lover, including its creation after a personal “recalibrating” period, her stripped-down performances of its songs and her plans to showcase the full-length live with her Lover Fest shows next year. In two moments from the extended conversation that did not make the print story, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade also touched upon two of the album’s highlights, which double as a pair of the more interesting songs in her discography: “The Man” and “It’s Nice To Have A Friend.” 

“The Man” imagines how Swift’s experience as a person, artist and figure within the music industry would have been different had she been a man, highlighting how much harder women have to work in order to succeed (“I’m so sick of running as fast as I can / Wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man,” she sings in the chorus). The song has become a fan favorite since the release of Lover, and Swift recently opened a career-spanning medley with the song at the 2019 American Music Awards.

When asked about “The Man,” Swift pointed out specific double standards that exist in everyday life and explained why she wanted to turn that frustration into a pop single. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “The Man” below:

“It was a song that I wrote from my personal experience, but also from a general experience that I’ve heard from women in all parts of our industry. And I think that, the more we can talk about it in a song like that, the better off we’ll be in a place to call it out when it’s happening. So many of these things are ingrained in even women, these perceptions, and it’s really about re-training your own brain to be less critical of women when we are not criticizing men for the same things. So many things that men do, you know, can be phoned-in that cannot be phoned-in for us. We have to really — God, we have to curate and cater everything, but we have to make it look like an accident. Because if we make a mistake, that’s our fault, but if we strategize so that we won’t make a mistake, we’re calculating.

“There is a bit of a damned-if-we-do, damned-if-we-don’t thing happening in music, and that’s why when I can, like, sit and talk and be like ‘Yeah, this sucks for me too,’ that feels good. When I go online and hear the stories of my fans talking about their experience in the working world, or even at school — the more we talk about it, the better off we’ll be. And I wanted to make it catchy for a reason — so that it would get stuck in people’s heads, [so] they would end up with a song about gender inequality stuck in their heads. And for me, that’s a good day.”

Meanwhile, the penultimate song on Lover, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend,” sounds unlike anything in Swift’s catalog thanks to its elliptical structure, lullaby-like tone and incorporation of steel drums and brass. When asked about the song, Swift talked about experimenting with her songwriting, as well as capturing a different angle of the emotional themes at the heart of Lover. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” below:

“It was fun to write a song that was just verses, because my whole body and soul wants to make a chorus — every time I sit down to write a song, I’m like, ‘Okay, chorus time, let’s get the chorus done.’ But with that song, it was more of like a poem, and a story and a vibe and a feeling of... I love metaphors that kind of have more than one meaning, and I think I loved the idea that, on an album called Lover, we all want love, we all want to find somebody to see our sights with and hear things with and experience things with.

“But at the end of the day we’ve been searching for that since we were kids! When you had a friend when you were nine years old, and that friend was all you talked about, and you wanted to have sleepovers and you wanted to walk down the street together and sit there drawing pictures together or be silent together, or be talking all night. We’re just looking for that, but endless sparks, as adults.”

Read the full Taylor Swift cover story here, and click here for more info on Billboard’s 2019 Women In Music event, during which Swift will be presented with the first-ever Woman of the Decade award.

[link to this tweet]

Was there ever a part of you that was like, “Oh shit, I like this darker vibe, let’s go even further down that path?” I really Loved Reputation because it felt like a rock opera, or a musical, doing it live. Doing that stadium show was so fun because it was so theatrical and so exciting to perform that, because it’s really cathartic! But I have to follow whatever direction my life is going in emotionally... The skies were opening up in my life. That’s what happened. But in a way that felt like a pink sky, a pink and purple sky, after a storm, and now it looks even more beautiful because it looked so stormy before. And that’s just like, I couldn't stop writing. I’ve never had an album with 18 songs on it before, and a lot of what I do is based on intuition. So, you know, I try not to overthink it. Who knows, there may be another dark album. I plan on doing lots of experimentation over the course of my career. Who knows? But it was a blast, I really loved it.

I mean, look, a Taylor Swift screamo album? I’ll be first in line. I’m so happy to hear that, because I think you might be the only one. Ha! I have a terrible scream. It’s obnoxious.

Why Taylor Swift's Lover Fest Will Be Her Next Big Step

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 11th 2019 - [Excerpt]

On why she chose to put together Lover fest: “I haven’t really done festivals in years - not since I was a teenager. That’s something that [the fans] don’t expect from me, so that’s why I wanted to do it. I want to challenge myself with new things and at the same time keep giving my fans something to connect to.”

[sunflowers-heart]

May 16th – Love

Lyn’s Writing Event

Pairing: Sir Guy of Gisborne x Reader

Word count: 1,009

Warnings: None

Author’s note: I just. Can’t stop. Writing for him. :) I’ve really wanted to elaborate differently on the subject for this character and for my inspiration I used the Greek concept for the variety of love, not being strictly understood as Éros but also Agápe, Philos, Storge, Pragma, Ludus, Mania and... Philautia.

It was the fresh blow of the wind which woke him up, the scent of the morning reaching his senses even in the dreams. Before he opened his eyes, he allowed himself to rest for a long moment, lingering between the depths of his mind and reality, still remembering the nonsense images created by his imagination but feeling the mattress under his body also. It was warm, being covered by the bed sheets, while the whole bedroom could be considered as rather chilly, but what made him the most comfortable in this whole situation was not the place he woke up in, but the heat of your body next to his.

Sir Guy opened his eyes and blinked few times, adjusting to the brightness of the day. Only then his gaze landed upon your sleeping frame and the smile spread over his lips at the funny position you were currently in. Surely after you would eventually wake up, you would have a mark in a shape of the embroidered pillow your cheek was resting on.

Supporting his weight on the elbow, he reached toward you with his free hand, wanting to caress your skin but hesitated. You probably would not be glad to be awakened that early, even if it was with his playful touches. Instead, he observed you for a while before looking out of the window, the sky being crystal clear and foreshadowing a bright, sunny day. Perfect for a ride or a friendly sparring. Lately you have both decided that it would be safer if you could protect yourself during any dangerous situation which resulted in Guy teaching you the basics of how to handle the weapon, where and how to attack, as well as many other very useful skills. He was proud of you, seeing the noticeable effects of your hard work, although he preferred to tease you about still being a novice to motivate you into further lessons.

And, goodness, he loved you so much. Seeing you on the glade with a sword in the hand, messy hair and the sparks of annoyance in your eyes never failed to make him adore you more and more.

Sir Guy leaned forward and placed a butterfly kiss on your exposed shoulder, feeling the scent of your skin and delicately scratching it with his stubble when he moved forward, his lips drawing an invisible line toward your neck.

Perhaps it was foolish of him to think that you were the one who saved him but it was impossible to see it any other way. You did, quite literally, save his life from hanging and helped him to escape and hide from the wrath of his greedy sister. It was you who shouted the inconvenient truth in his face, ordering him to wake up before it will be too late for any kind of salvation. It was you who showed him mercy upon his doings. It was you who helped him not to find the new home but to make it a place he wanted to return to, something completely his. And lastly, it was you who saw his tears, the pain leaving his soul in your arms, with your fingers running through his hair and your accepting silence.

It has always been you.

Months after living together, Sir Guy has finally started to realize that some things began to change. At first, it was very simple and almost invisible, but soon, the small things were catching his attention more and more often. He enjoyed the morning tea shared with you, he liked the colours of autumn weather, he cherished the feeling of a cold water on his tongue on a hot, sunny days, he admired the trinkets you put on the shelves in the hall and one day he woke up with the unfamiliar, odd feeling that it was complete.

His life was complete.

What surprised him the most, however, was how on the same day he decided to look at his reflection in the mirror for a while longer and when staring deeply in his own eyes, his heart held no hatred. It was just him; pale skin, bright blue eyes and shoulder-length dark hair—the same he inherited from his mother. Suddenly, there was no anger, no pain, no guilt, just the fresh start on an early morning and endless possibilities ahead.

His kisses reached your neck and then he stopped, checking if you were waking up already only to hear a protesting groan from you. Indeed, it was still very early but he could no longer wait to hear your voice.

Sir Guy was not cleared of his charges, the crimes he committed still lingering at the back of his head but finally rather a reminder to not fall off the new path he has chosen. It was not a salvation he so desperately needed but the acceptance—and his own forgiveness. It all started with you and the words you shouted at him that evening making a lot of sense now. You were right, he was a coward, he was weak and insecure and so, so desperate that he has somehow forgotten how important it is to understand himself as he truly is. Right now, however, the picture has changed, he still recognized himself as a cruel, vicious man but this time he was brave enough to look himself in the eyes and admit that out loud.

The nightmares have stopped and it was your bravery which made it possible, your hand reached toward him when he needed it the most, your finger showing him the other way and your metaphorical slap on his cheek bringing him to reality.

“Good morning, my love,” he whispered and it tickled your ear.

“It is going to be a bad morning if you won’t let me have another fifteen minutes, Gisborne,” you threatened and he chuckled, kissing the soft place right under your jaw.

Indeed, he was still the same Sir Guy of Gisborne, but for the first time in his whole life it was alright.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Gretchen Lieberum Interview: Eerie Nostalgia

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Singer-songwriter Gretchen Lieberum wanted to make an album of standards while totally subverting your preconception of what that sounded like. With This May Only Be A Dream, which came out Friday, she succeeds, in both capturing the magic of old recordings and performance styles while talking full advantage of the time-bending quality of modern production. In BAFTA-winning composer Keefus Ciancia, Lieberum picked the perfect partner. After singing over piano, she sent what were basically demos to Ciancia, who removed the piano, deconstructing and reconstructing the songs to then be rerecorded with session musicians. The result shares the ambition of something like Julia Holter’s version of “Hello Stranger” but over a whole album. Album opener “Come Rain or Come Shine”, which has been recorded by Ray Charles, Billie Holliday, and Chet Baker, combines lurking, fluttering woodwinds with reverb-laden vocals and chaotic orchestration. On “Blue Skies”, a song that you expect to build up with drums, strings, and chorus, like in a climax scene in a Hollywood epic, the strings cut in and out, toying with your perception. While there are some songs that sound familiar, like the Fiona Apple-esque percussive clatter of “Angel Eyes” or the solemn, quiet closer “While We’re Young”, the back-and-forth between subtlety and Technicolor orchestration keeps you on your toes.

A couple months ago, I spoke with Lieberum from her home in L.A. and Ciancia from his in France about how the album was constructed, their approach to recording, and how they would describe the music. Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: So this seriously just started with you singing over piano, Gretchen?

Gretchen Lieberum: I have a friend who has a studio in his house. I wanted to do an album of standards for years and years. It’s just an idea I’ve had I couldn’t let go of. I wanted to do an album of these songs but interpreted in an unusual way, not acoustic bass, drums, piano, and that’s it. I’ve known Keefus for years, and he was the only guy I wanted for the job. So I waited years and years, and finally, the timing was right to start working on it. I’d just record vocals with my friend Peter at his studio playing piano, which is great because I do much better in low pressure situations. If I’m in a big fancy studio, I’m like, “Oh god, how much is this costing?” It’s hard for me to be emotional and in the moment. I was just able to go to my friend’s house and record any song that popped into my head or I was feeling. I would send them to Keefus, and he would pick his faves. I think I recorded maybe 25 songs in all, and we ended up with 10.

Keefus Ciancia: The most important part is what Gretchen said--the comfort zone that Gretchen was in where she could get to the feel and heart of the song, comfortably with Peter. He’s an amazing piano player, and they had such a good rhythm that everything I was getting made it so that it was just real. It felt right. That was always fun to be able to open these and also have total separation, pick out Peter’s stuff and start reimagining things, erasing the chords. Gretchen was on fire! She was knocking them out. A lot of great pieces I’ve never heard, too, which I really enjoyed. Maybe that was good for me, too, to not know those standards as well so I wasn’t trapped in the chords. Maybe my lameness of being a hack--I wanted to be a jazz player but I couldn’t do it! [laughs]

GL: That’s what’s so great. I didn’t want a jazz guy to produce it. That’s what ended up happening--he would choose his own chords underneath the melodies that were really interesting and cool.

SILY: Did you know he was gonna remove the piano?

GL: Oh yeah. I know Keefus’s aesthetic and how he works, so I was like, “I’m gonna send you this, have fun, go to town.” I sent him literally zero notes and never knew what I was gonna get back. There’d be a song that’s a stark ballad that would come back with a full orchestra, some of the tempo sped up, some of it slowed down. Different lines chopped up into different places. Quite a few times, I’d take the song and rerecord the vocal to go with what Keefus did, to emotionally match what he created. Sometimes not--the song “Come Rain or Come Shine” was one take I did at Peter’s house and didn’t change at all.

SILY: How did you whittle down from the initial list of 25 songs for this record?

GL: This project was so much about emotion and love and love of these songs. What songs I loved singing and what was inspiring me. I grew up in a house where jazz was constantly playing. My father wasn’t a musician but a huge fan. It was a big part of my life growing up. I was in the jazz band as a singer in high school. These are songs I’ve known my whole life. There were some that I tried that I didn’t feel that I didn’t send to Keefus.

There are a few that aren’t jazz standards, too. We do a Beach Boys song, which is also a song that I love.

SILY: They’re standards nonetheless, independent of genre.

GL: Yes.

SILY: What made you want to release “Come Rain or Come Shine” as the first single and open with it?

GL: It’s just one of my favorites. One of the ones I’m most proud of. It’s indicative of the project as a whole. It’s a standard I approach traditionally from how I’m singing it, but there are these surreal flourishes around it. Also, I mean, what an intro, that [screams] “Ahhh!”

KC: I agree.

SILY: What was the process of getting the session musicians in after Keefus worked on the songs?

KC: Basically, it was kind of known all the way through that once we got these bodies we’d get some more breath and air on it to get more of the quality Gretchen and I love from old 50′s recordings but also taking it somewhere new. That studio is now closed--Vox Studios--such an amazing place that was perfect for that record. It was the first commercial studio in Hollywood through Paramount.

GL: It was the longest continuously running studio in the world, I read.

KC: Someone will move in, I’m sure. Woody [Jackson], who owns it, there was no rebuilding the rooms because they sounded so good from how they were built in the 40′s. The room is amazing, and his engineer Michael Harris is incredible. He was the first one to get his ears on this stuff besides Gretchen and I. To be able to put it in a room, listen through a different system, warm things up for his outboard gear. We had some of our favorite musicians. It wasn’t a ton of folks, but the dream scenario where we had 5 days and a rolling, “Get moving”. The next day, Gretchen sings, then some more people come in.

GL: Jay Bellerose is so damn good. So tasty. He just goes in and does his thing.

KC: His heart breathes all the old jazz but he’s also someone who likes to keep pushing things. I think that was the trick with us--we always want to hear something new. Of course, there are some things that sound great that you should do again, but we all listen to music so much you just want something new. Sometimes, you have to make it yourself.

SILY: The album does sound new even though it has older reference points, both the songs themselves and aesthetically. A lot of older jazz tunes with woodwinds and fluttery strings have something eerie and disorienting about them. Thinking about a track like “Blue Skies”, when the sound cuts in and out. That’s not something you hear on traditional “standards” records. To what extent were you trying to achieve that eerie nostalgia?

GL: I think “eerie nostalgia”’s just our M.O., you know? [laughs]

KC: I like that, eerie nostalgia.

GL: I don’t even think we try. 

SILY: “For All We Know” starts out with quiet plucks of string but ends up a swinging jazz tune, the moment on here that’s the most “traditional.”

GL: Even on that one, it’s funny because our friend David Ralicke, who plays the horns on everything--he’s incredible and has such great taste. But this one, I was like “Keefus, I don’t know.” Keefus was like, “It’s gotta get big. It’s gotta be a party at the end, an explosion!” Ralicke, he sent a bunch of horns. When he sent them in, they were very bright and intense, and I was like, “Oh god, this is a little weird!” Keefus was like, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make it weird and demented.” It is traditional, but something about the way it’s mixed or the added affects give it that eeriness, which I love.

One thing Keefus often did that was really surprising to me was there were songs I sent as straight ballads, like this one. If you listen to the lyrics, the first half is like, “Who knows what’s gonna happen? Life is so uncertain.” But then it’s like, “Who cares? Tomorrow may never come.” And it’s a celebration. It’s one of my favorite songs now after being most uncertain about it at first. Keefus, you sent me Frank Sinatra, Jr. singing “Black Knight” [as a reference]. It starts as a ballad and explodes, an emotional outburst.

SILY: Is there any other specific track on here you think is a standout?

KC: Each one is such a little episode, that even that was tricky to put in order for the record. It almost would have been interesting to go old school and release 45s, make each one of them a single and B-side. When you hear “Wild Is The Wind”, on my radio, I would make that a single. It’s totally different than the others. It’s not this powerhouse. But if I bought it as a single, I would think it’s a really beautiful single. Same with “Who Knows Where The Time Goes”. That’s on Keefus & Gretchen radio. [laughs]

GL: “Who Knows Where The Time Goes” was the very first song Keefus did. It was the only vocal recorded at my house, with a different friend in my dining room, with a little laptop mic set up. We used that vocal. It’s a pretty special one, and genre-defying. “Wild Is The Wind” fits comfortably in the jazz section. Or not--I don’t know. It’s a weird question. One of the things I hate more than anything is when I’m uploading my music and it asks you to pick a category. I don’t know. I hate picking a category. Nothing feels quite right, and it feels like a mixture of all of these things.

KC: Gretchen is a huge jazz fan listening for a long time, but jazz records strayed from her and my tastes as it went along. Jazz records went on a different road and started getting not such a punk rock vibe. It was a classy thing, not so underground. That was one thing we were talking about when finishing the record. We think it should be heard by all age groups and invite them to learn these pieces because they might not have the chance to learn them as often. To pick a genre can really be dangerous for all artists because there are a ton of artists that like a ton of different music and can make a ton of different music and change their records as they go. That was big, too: approaching this apart from being a jazz record and bringing in new listeners. Gretchen and I don’t know exaxctly how this works with the tagging on Spotify, but if you put “jazz” on it, does that mean other people will never listen to it?

GL: I don’t think it is a jazz album. It’s an album of standards, but I wouldn’t call it a jazz album.

KC: I like to call it torched songs instead of torch songs.

SILY: What was the overall approach to the sequencing?

GL: I really pulled my hair out. I was crying myself to sleep at night. It was hard. One thing we ended up doing, which was Keefus’s idea, was he felt like the A-side of the record leaned themselves more to samples and surreal electronic elements. Keefus was like, “Once you get sucked into the album, the vibe is very complementary, and you can take people anywhere.” So after the first 4-5 songs, “Wild is the Wind” comes, which is a stripped down ballad. From then, you’re just on the ride.

SILY: What was the inspiration behind the album title?

GL: I had this idea of taking a line from one of the songs as the album title. I went through all the songs and went through some of my favorite lines. At one point, I thought I was gonna call it “How Blue The Sky” which is from the last song, “While We’re Young.” But then I thought “This May Only Be A Dream” felt really good with the dreaminess of this music and the somewhat surreal journey it takes you on. One thing I’m really proud of about the record is it takes you on an emotional journey from start to finish. I know the kids don’t listen to albums anymore. Peter was one of the people I sent it to, and he said, “I feel like I watched a film listening to this album.” That felt right.

SILY: What’s the story behind the cover art?

GL: Keefus’s daughter Raven [Violet Ciancia-Vincent] is a really talented visual video artist. She’s the one that directed the video for “Come Rain or Come Shine.” We made a video for the song “Don’t Explain”, and that’s just a still from the video. She layers things like a collage, so there’s a video of me with fireworks on top of it. When I was trying to come up with something to make the cover, I took a bunch of stills from the video, and that one jumped out at me, especially with the title, This May Only Be A Dream. I just thought it really worked beautifully together. The font, to me, is a throwback to the Blue Note covers. I know a lot of people do Blue Note covers, so I wanted to do a little nod to it without fully going there.

SILY: Are you planning on doing any shows?

GL: When we do end up playing live again--Keefus, I should probably talk to you about what the hell you think I should do--but some of it would be laptop-tracked songs with live bass or drums on top of it. That’s possible, right, Keefus?

KC: I would dream of a full-on 10-to-12 piece orchestra. For a special show in Los Angeles, and when everything explodes, a special show in New York and Paris. I think you could get the right band, and it’s all completely playable.

GL: Maybe a keyboard player adding samples.

KC: Do you play, Jordan? Gretchen’s looking for band members.

SILY: I don’t.

GL: Show me ya stuff, kid! [laughs]

SILY: What else is next for you?

GL: My husband [filmmaker Jacob Aaron Estes] ended up doing an alternate video for “Don’t Explain” that we’re gonna release that I’m pretty excited about. The other thing that I do--which is a totally other universe--is my Prince cover band with Maya Rudolph. I hope we start playing again. That would be great. I am glad, though, that I had so much time to focus on my own music. As much as I love doing Princess, it’s not totally me. I want to really focus on this for a while.

KC: I’m doing Pringles commericals. [laughs] I’ve been working on a bunch of shows and some records and a new soundtrack for a show [Made For Love]. I’ve made a lot of music during the last year and a half. There’s some fun stuff coming up. I’ll start a new Unloved record when our band is allowed to fly over here.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading that’s caught your attention?

GL: My mind just went utterly blank. [laughs] Utterly. I’ve been reading a lot of weird dystopian future stuff to distract my anxiety about the dystopian future stuff we’re dealing with in real life. Reading it calms my nerves.

KC: I watched the Bee Gees documentary [How Can You Mend a Broken Heart] the other night on HBO. I thought it was beautiful. They just touch those places, when you hear those voices.

[cabin-fever-bang]

Campfire Stories (Vol. 1)

Welcome to the Cabin! We proudly present the first edition of Campfire Stories: your one-stop shop for quality quarantine content. 

We’re going to do these regularly, with in-depth reviews of everything that’s been submitted as a prompt fill and additional recommendations from the masterlists of writers who get involved. 

If you’d like to be one of those writers, just follow us, comb through our prompts, and be sure to tag us when you post! It’s that easy. We welcome all fandoms and pairings. 

This batch of reviews was cooked up by @thoughtslikeaminefield​ (MJ), @there-must-be-a-lock​ (Lou), @itmighthavebeenintentional​ (Val), @fangirlxwritesx67​ (Viv), @cracksinthewalls​ (Bri), and @mskathywriteswords​ (Kathy), but we encourage you to pass along the random acts of writer-love and reblog with your own additions! 

Pull up a seat, toast a marshmallow or two, and settle in for some excellent reading material.

Choices We Make - @becs-bunker​ - GIF prompt submitted by  @dawnie1988​ 

Pairing: Demon Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, brief threat & violence, smut, language, dub con-ish, unprotected sex, orgasm denial

Words: 1374

Everyone loves a Demon!Dean fic, and this is a good one! Lots of action, lots of angst, and some really hot, awful Dean.

Honestly it all felt like some surreal nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You just wanted Dean back, your Dean.

These lines summarize both the Demon!Dean story arc and the narrator's frame of mind so well, pulling the reader right into the perspective of the story.

“I missed you, y’know?” Dean sighed, and the naive part of you wished he was telling the truth. That somehow, deep down, he still loved you.

This is heartbreaking because it's relatable, because the author does such a good job with the narrator's voice.

Dean licked his lips and there was a familiar hunger in his green eyes that made a whole different sensation rise in your body, and it wasn’t fear.

I'm not going to quote any more lines from the story because the author has written one hell of a twist, but trust me when I said, I gasped out loud reading it. The rest of this story is an absolute roller coaster, well worth the ride.

- Viv

Come For Me - @fangirlxwritesx67​ - image prompts created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy​

Pairing: Sam Winchester x female reader 

Warnings: smut, canon level violence, fingering, first time together

Words: 3100

First, let’s talk about this aesthetic. It’s soft and beautiful, but stark and needy. I love the quotes and photos, the way they flow together. Fantastic visual prompt. "Sam Winchester?” He spoke in a theatrical, mocking tone. “Ooooh, I’m frightened." This line made me chuckle. I love the idea of what’s ahead of us. The bad guy is built up in a hilarious way. Sam is presented through the heart and mind of the narrator, you. But thinking of Sam suffused you with a warm confidence. Not for one moment did you doubt him. This confidence is contagious and warming. Meanwhile, the anxiety over the vampire lurking somewhere else, waiting to taste you… it builds in a beautiful and believable way. There’s a rush of emotions as Sam rescues you, and he’s patient and kind, even while making jokes and being the Sam you know and love. Things progress, and there’s a beautiful and sweet (okay, and hot!) sex scene, with a first time between Sam and you. All in all, a really solid piece, with some story, some tension, some sex, and a whole lot of sweetness.

- Kathy

A New Day - @becs-bunker​ - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock​

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: fluff

I’ve not reviewed an image prompt before, so let’s just jump in. The first word that jumps to my mind is light, but I love how suffused and golden the whole image is. Softer, safer, intimate. There are little pinpoints of light, rays of light, shining light, and the whole thing makes me feel...well...light. Sunrise and candlelight, new day, new beginnings. 

The images chosen for Sam, the angles and features we get, are such close, personal angles and shots, giving us this tender atmosphere and setting the tone for this story: personal. Everything you're about to read is intimate, personal, and private, in such a lovely, delicate way. 

The curtains in that first shot are so filmy and ethereal, and the whole story feels like it’s set in a kind of golden-hazed forest. And, let’s face it, any sort of vacation for a Winchester is a kind of fairy tale. 

I’ve managed to stay pretty much above the brow, so Imma have to dip down for a minute and just drool over Sam’s trapezius muscles. Oh. MY. GAWD.

Golden, glorious, graceful, and just a touch of gooey. Good, good, good.

So, right off the bat, let me tell you that this story is everything I’ve ever wanted for Sam, like everything the show and Chuck and the universe has ever denied him. He’s rested, he’s comforted, he’s bathed in glow (the sun, the reader’s love, all that jazz, you know?).

And then it goes and hits all my camping weaknesses. I was literally just telling someone how I’m missing my camp more than ever now. It’s been eight years since I’ve been, and this story brings back all those feelings of serenity and calm, voluntary isolation with people you more or less chose, because camp was and is my forever real home.

I know that seems a little rambly and off-topic, but the thing is, that’s what this story is for me. They aren’t at the bunker, their “home,” but they’re still home all the same, because (and, yes, you can shoot me for this) home is where your heart is, so this wonderful little cabin in the woods is home, whether they’ve been there together once or a hundred times because Sam.

And then that bit of sugar tossed in at the end...Oh, this story was good for my soul. “Warm mug of coffee on a chill morning, under a blanket” kind of good for my soul. 

It’s one of those where I would love to have so much more of these two, of this warmth between them, but I also am perfectly content to know them just in this one perfect moment forever, before the day starts, when everything is still in the “it’s about to happen and it will be great” stages. The beginning of a great new day.

Thank you. I needed this story, now more than ever.

- Val

Crash  - @myinconnelly1​ - requested by @adoptdontshoppets​ for @idreamofplaid​ aesthetic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff

Words: 810

The first thing that draws my eye in the aesthetic is the linked fingers. I love pinky links (I’m sure there’s a less cutesy way to say it, but I like it; sue me). They’re sweet, and really personal. You’ve got super tough Dean Winchester who isn’t embarrassed or afraid of intimate, goofy gestures. In fact, I feel like that would one hundred percent be Dean in a relationship: Dean is a giant ball of goofy, intimate gestures. 

I love the choices of relaxed, bearded Dean/Jensen paired with the casual, cool color palette immediately set me at ease. This isn’t going to be a terrifying, angsty ordeal. This is going to be calm, soothing, sensual. 

And the roses, the sand, the surf, the candlelight, the pokey palm tree fronds...I can hear, smell, feel every bit of these images. The golden-pink wine...ugh. This whole experience is a trip to paradise.

I love how all five senses are emphasized and made equally important. It gives us so much more connection to the moment, makes it that much more intimate. The constant crashing of the waves in the background; the bittersweet chocolate; the cozy, homey image of the baking-wrecked kitchen followed by the much more erotic, candelit bedroom; and then the scent of the oil mixed with the warmth and strength of Dean’s touch.

I also love the level of comfort in the story. We have the cookies, a hard-core comfort staple. We have the warm, lazy beach setting. And the easiness these two have together: that’s the dream, my friend. I love how they have no trouble at all communicating what they want and need, how they are comfortable enough to be messy and cute and flirty and sexy, one right after the other. 

And the description is so thorough, I have no trouble at all imagining myself there, in that wonderful, relaxing moment.

This story is relaxing, decadent, soothing, and fun all at once. I am a huge fan of the ending, as well. I was smiling through the whole story, but at the end, I literally laughed aloud. And now I think I’m going to have to excuse myself to go find some chocolate chip cookies. This story gave me a couple of cravings, and as Dean Winchester is in short supply in the real world, cookies are the one I can satisfy right now.

This story is, dare I say it, such a sweet escape. 

- Val

No Sugar Added - @myinconnelly1​ - requested by @fangirlxwritesx67​ - “I’d like to see Steve Rogers from MARVEL sharing Depression-era coping tips. Maybe he vlogs how to make apple-less apple pie.” 

No pairing

Warnings: Spoilers for Infinity Wars + Endgame, mention of mental health issues

Words: 446

This was my prompt for the Cabin, and I loved what this author did with the story! A little bit of fluffy cheer.

“Hello, I’m Steve Rogers.  As many of you know, I’m also Captain America, and I was alive during another time of hard living conditions.” 

Right now, a lot of things in the world seem scary and unsettling. It's one of those times when we turn for comfort to the lessons of the past, to the wisdom of generations, and to heroes. This author does a great job with Captain America, Steve Rogers. His cooking lesson is exactly the sort of inspiring, instructional video I would love to see.

“What is that smell?”  Natasha asked as she looked behind her to see Steve walking into the office with the plate.

Because it was never about pie, apple or otherwise. It was always about comfort. Our favorite foods help with that, and so does Captain America, especially written this well.

There are some fun tidbits in this story, including a peek of history and an actual recipe!

- Viv

Communion - @thoughtslikeaminefield​ - requested by @mskathywriteswords​​ “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female character

Warnings: marijuana use, high sex, het sex, fluffy smut

Words: 1002

How do I love this? Let me count the motherfucking ways. 

First of all, the way this sucks you into the characters’ headspace is beautiful and subtle and masterfully done. It’s in the sentence structure and the flow of the words; there’s no need to describe their inner state, because it’s written into the movement of the sentences and the choice of words. She doesn’t have to say that they’re high, because you can fucking feel it in phrases like “It’s sending me off somewhere…” or “I shiver at the thoughts careening through my mind.”

Second, this is molten hot, but (as with the best smut) it’s not just some rote story of “then he was hard and we banged and it was great.” The sexy bits are unique; this isn’t the same smut you’ve read a thousand times before. It’s got its own personality and tone and voice that very much belong to this particular story. 

Also? Filth with feelings! My favorite genre! It’s deeply emotional. I am all for smut that is both dirty and tender. This is like a masterclass on how to walk that line. 

It’s such a simple premise that becomes so much more; this has things to say about Dean, about his personality, about this relationship. This takes a very specific moment and uses it as a framework for something big and meaningful. This, for example: 

When Dean has to be big, he uses his whole self. His body takes up space and his mere presence -- he can make the darkest of demons shudder with his presence alone.

But Dean’s natural state is this -- nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm.

Yuuuup.

Also: 

His hands -- the same hands I’ve seen thrust a blade into the guts of angels and demons -- are tender, fingertips light but persistent as they slip under my tank top and splay over my belly.

It’s so intimate. This is why we read fanfic, right? To feel like we’re close to these characters that we love so much, to delve into the sides of them that we don’t get to see much in canon… this fic feels like something personal and private that we’ve been lucky enough to be let in on. 

- Lou

Deeper Than Deep Conditioner - @fangirlxwritesx67​ - requested by @awesomesusiebstuff​ “The two Sam’s (our Sam and AU Sam) maintaining their hair care routines while quarantined.”

It’s one of those days when I’m feeling too fragile for this world. What’s the best remedy to knock some sunlight into my dark mood? Today, it’s fic -- and one that makes me giggle is a bonus.

This little gem is filled with funny one-liners and side-eye moments to make you laugh out loud:

Dean dreamed of driving away, of bikini beauties on the beaches of Rio. Sam dreamed of scarves and what it would be like to have no bigger worries in the world than his hair.

The look Dean gave him would’ve curdled milk, if there was any, which there wasn’t, because Dean took his coffee black, like a man.

A touch of realism in this bizarro situation got a chuckle, too:

“Sorry, sweethearts,” alt!Dean said, “Flights are all cancelled. A virus or something.”

When Viv named the alternates Deano and Sami, I gave in and embraced the madness. I was delighted with Deano; that’s my own nickname for Dean in my head. But Sami, a most pretentious twist on Sammy? A master stroke. I was tickled.

I was fully on board with enjoying this romp through the bizarro world, but then I was taken by surprise. This little moment, a hint that Sam has been trying to make the best of their circumstances, touched me: 

“Is this really how you live?” said Sami, with a dismissive glance at his paper napkin.

“Look,” Sam answered. “I’ve done my best. It’s taken a lot to get us this far.”

I was prepared for that to be the exception to the rule -- a moment of sincerity amongst a sea of lighthearted fun. And there was plenty of fun ahead of me. The jokes come at you hard and fast in this story! But I realized the mood was steadily changing, and suddenly, I was immersed in sincerity and maybe a little sadness:

...somewhere out there, was a universe where he pampered himself...

...maybe there was a place where he could enjoy something as simple as a deep condition...

...something Sam had wanted to watch but never had time for...

...for the first time in a long time, he caught himself laughing...

I thought maybe that was it. A few moments of Sam learning to appreciate what Sami (I was still laughing at that) had to offer, instead of simply mocking his manbun and scarf (I don’t think I could ever stop mocking that, but Sam’s a better person than I am).

But no. It didn’t end there, and I still wasn’t ready. Before I knew it, I was steeped in Sam’s melancholy, his yearning for a life kinder and gentler than what he’d been given. I was truly heartbroken for him in that moment.

I won’t spoil the rest, but by the time I got to the ending, I was grateful for the funny beginning that softened the landing. I expected a comedy, but what I got really was deeper than deep conditioner.

- Bri

Dear Mr. Fantasy - @itmighthavebeenintentional​ - image prompt submitted @thoughtslikeaminefield​

Warnings: SEASON 15 SPOILERS, bit of angst. 

Words: 2157

I found the image prompt in my Tumblr feed and immediately started plotting ideas that I cannot write bc I have too many fucking WIPs so imagine my excite when one of my all-time favorite fic writers (and one of my very best friends) filled the prompt as a surprise for me!

Val tells stories with a depth and humor like no one else I’ve ever read. Her natural wit and smarts shine through her fictional words as well, and I love seeing glimpses of her in her work.

In one universe, someone neglected Baby (couldn’t have been Dean, had to’ve been Sam) to the point where she pulls slightly to the left. Dean spends the morning after that dream with a muscle tick in his cheek and a suspicious, side-eyed glare for Sam that he never bothers to explain.

Dear Mr. Fantasy is bittersweet. It is soft and rich and full of color — all the senses are here. It’s a sledgehammer of realism wrapped in velvet. And it’s so very Dean.

At forty-eight years old (none of that years young bullshit, either; he’s old, and he’s goddamn earned it)

In the midst of reading canon Dean dreaming of and admiring and protecting his favorite of his AU-selves and that version’s life, we are treated to what it would be like if he was allowed a normal life. Our devoted, brave, warm, and loving hunter as a common mechanic would be just as brave and loyal, no?

“Pretty sure she’s settled on ya, so just make sure you’re worth it.” 

So that’s what Dean did. 

But our Dean — the Real Dean as Chuck says — can’t quite let his guard down even in his dreams of another world, even if that other world is safe as houses. He’s still aware of just how unreal this reality is.

Splashes of indigo and orange paint the horizon, framing her approach in a wash of colors blending into shadows that hold no danger.

Then, he lets himself mingle with that dream, if only for a few moments and it’s bliss.

Older Dean and worn-out, monster-plagued Dean sigh together, content down to their bones. This life is it for both of them. She is it. One Dean still can’t believe his amazing luck after all these years, and the other aches at the simple, total happiness he feels honored to witness.

I love you, she whispers, and he allows himself to believe for one moment that she’s talking directly to him.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you, but I will say that you need some tissues. I cried through 90% of this story, from joy and from heartache. 

Because that’s what Valerie does, breaks your heart and makes you smile, and it is so fucking good.

- MJ

Synesthesia - @there-must-be-a-lock - request by @wendibird​ “SPN, Sastiel, due to all the Angelic Grace Sam has been exposed to over time, he starts resonating with Castiel’s. Especially if Cas’ emotions are running high.”

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: none!

Words: 750

First, I love the song that enhanced this idea for Lou. It lends a tenderness and whimsy to the plot that isn’t inherent. 

Second, Lou’s words are like poetry and watercolor doing a dance of their own making — GORGEOUS phrasing and rhythm.

Cas whirls around, and Sam is hypnotized by the bright blue in his eyes, wide and concerned in a way that makes Sam feel like he’s being lit up from the inside. There’s a floodlight in his chest. 

And, y’all, I don’t even go here, but I swooned SO HARD.

It’s an effort to focus, but when he meets Cas’s eyes, Cas smiles. Sam sees a shower of sparks like the last fizzle of a firework.  

Sam hears it as a flutter of spring green like a new leaf. 

And Lou’s characterization is always spot on, right? But like Dean isn’t even in the scene, yet here we are.

Don’t let the words fool you; there’s a very angry rainbow happening in his head most of the time.

And did I mention the ARTWORK that is this woman’s WORDS?

There are stars under their feet, entire galaxies spinning out around them, dancing spirals of kaleidoscopic green and gold melting into whorls of brilliant blue.

Anyway, please go read. You’ll be flying high for hours afterward. xox

- MJ

Salvation - @dontshootmespence​ - image created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy​

Pairings: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: angst, torture, gore, smut 

Words: 1,401

The aesthetics by this artist inspire stories just because they are so well done. This one was a good balance of handsome Sam and some nice suggestive pics along with the phrases that helped shape the action of the story.

This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!

There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left.

These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author  gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar.

"You're Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

It's easy to forget, sometimes, all the things that Sam has been and done, how fearsome of a hunter he is. This story reminds us with razor sharp precision.

When he meets her gaze, he finds the peace he's craved for so long.

The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.

What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose?

This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam!

"You're safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me." 

Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It's no wonder he's fighting so hard to save her.

This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action, some sweet hotness, and such a good Sam!

- Viv

The Second Hand Unwinds - @mskathywriteswords​ - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock​ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: hurt, comfort, angst

I had a vibe in mind when I created this aesthetic but this went so far beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It absolutely nailed that nostalgic, wistful, antique-photo-album feel, and then it managed to knife me in the fucking gut in a few ways, none of which I saw coming. 

The JOY in the first part of this is absolutely tangible. It’s so romantic and sweet in a very dreamy way that feels exactly like first love. I love the scattered, disjointed imagery around the flowers in the first part, like flashes of memories coming at you all at once, and then when it settles into the narrative it manages to hold onto that dreamy feeling while still moving neatly through the plot. 

This moment was about us, and I wanted to live in it forever. You never gave me reason to cover my body, not that night or ever.

Goddamn right. Ugh, precious and beautiful. And then this:

After so much undiluted time together, I had no idea how to sleep alone. I felt raw waking up by myself, not being able to feel your stubble tickling my skin. 

There’s something about that last line that just grabbed my heart and tugged it in a wonderful way. It’s ACCURATE, first of all; this is one of those super-specific feelings that is hard to describe concisely. I haven’t really thought about that feeling in a while, but that little sentence just cut through so many years and brought me right back in a deep and visceral way. 

You took pride in doing all the things that were never done for you, you’d told me.

Ouch. It’s little touches like this that make this ring true to character even though it’s a very different Dean than we see in canon.

And then that ENDING. 

How do you contain a bomb once it’s been set on fire with grief?

Fuck, dude. Everything about that ending was so painful. I love that she left it raw and messy and not like a simple “welcome back!” kinda moment. 

This was just gorgeously done. Can not recommend it enough. 

Fort - @there-must-be-a-lock​ - prompt by @mskathywriteswords​​ “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty.” 

Pairing: J2 x reader

Warnings: blowjobs and weed. 

Words: ~2150

This piece of deliciousness opens with Jensen walking out of the bathroom with a towel on his hips; do I need to say more? I don’t, but I will. After some beautiful description of the blanket fort, we get treated to Jared in nothing but pajama pants. The descriptions in this piece are vivid and full. the way Jared’s hand looks between Jensen’s muscled shoulderblades, thumb stroking back and forth between patches of gold and red light, makes me want to capture the moment and hold onto it. I can see that image in my mind, picture the two of them together, and that’s what makes excellent writing for me. The warnings attached to this piece are fully applicable; the story is very cute and sweet, there’s weed, and there’s Jared and a wicked oral fixation, which in the case of this one-shot means dear Reader, that’s you, get to witness a searing blowjob from one J to another. The way these three interact makes my heart swell, and there’s something about watching the dynamic change between them that really hammers home just how functional they are together. Dive in to this universe, Everything. There are no regrets to be had, maybe only that you waited so long to get wet.

- Kathy

The Gazelle - @thoughtslikeaminefield​ - requested by Anonymous “I’d really love some more Dean x Benny fanfiction, AU, aligned with canon timeline, whatever. I think they deserved a chance and Benny got killed off before it could even be explored :(”

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x AU Benny Lafitte x unnamed female character

Warnings: power exchange, mmf threesome implied, Denny apparent, nudity

Words: 1000

Let me start with a caveat: I’m in the bag for pretty much any Dean x Benny fic, pretty much any Dean x Benny x person #3 fic, and absolutely any MJ fic. So you could stop reading this review right now and just go read the fic, if you want; in fact, I sort of recommend it, because it’s better than anything I could have to say about it. But if you want to stick around, I promise to be a little more coherent than ZOMGGGG PERFECT HOT SEXY TIMES DENNY LOVE GORGEOUS MORE PLZ!  

Before we even get to the words, we’ve got a gorgeous graphic. Black and white beautiful boys, staring you down with those “I’m gonna fuck you so good” eyes, paired with a sweetly sexy woman tinted with a soft pink; she looks carefree, open to have some fun, and you can imagine her telling them to bring it on. MJ’s graphics are always great, setting the perfect mood for her fics, and this is no exception.

And right from the jump:

Dean and me — we share a lot of things.

We share good music and good drink. Tonight, we’re sharing a good woman.

Oh, this is in Benny’s voice?! Okay okay okay, cool cool cool, I can handle this…

...Dean purrs like a jungle cat as he hovers behind her, hands in her hair, twisting and twirling the silky tresses…

...Dean sets the pace and is the anchor, always. He keeps everything stable and grounded…

And now I’ve realized that I’m going to be seeing Dean through Benny’s eyes -- and no, not cool, can’t handle this -- but I’m definitely not stopping.

I like to mix things up, though, and he lets me.

MJ is a brilliant writer with many talents, but I think her specialty, regardless of what characters she’s writing with, is brilliantly salacious smut that’s steeped in emotion. She can’t help it. Her fucks come with feels, every single time, and I hope it never changes. 

This piece is certainly no exception. Dean and Benny are circling their prey, this unnamed woman, utilizing their individual strengths -- Dean’s encouraging, I’m demanding -- and the sexual tension is building with soft touches and lingering kisses. As the scene is progressing, Benny’s inner monologue is sprinkled with thoughts about Dean:

Times we don’t have a subject, Dean’s focus is on me. I don’t argue and I do not complain. Dean knows what to do with every inch of that long, lean body of his. He knows how to cage a person in, make them feel safe, wanted, fucking needed.

She’s handily building emotion and a personal backstory without an exposition dump, without taking focus away from the action for too long:

His hands move slowly, seemingly random, but I know how focused he is on her and the moment. Giving and seeking pleasure are vital things to Dean and he takes the acts to heart.

I’m immersed in the now of this scene but I also understand the depth of their feelings for one another, their history and dedication to each other, and how they work together to bring another partner into their orbit. MJ makes it look easy, when it’s anything but. 

And then she gifts us with this perfection and I’ve melted into a puddle of emotionally aroused goo:

“You promise to love, honor, and cherish ‘til the morning light, Dean?”

That is a vow of devotion to a one-night stand. What?! How?! Does her brain come up with this?

From there, the scene continues, the action escalating, supported by a framework of realism and heart. Her Dean feels familiar and in character, even though we’ve never seen him in this particular situation. And Benny, we hardly knew ye, but she brings him to life alongside Dean and I buy their relationship completely. I buy all of this, and now I’m invested.

And then… 

“Do it, then,” she says, challenging. “Wreck me.”

My breath catches, my heart starts to race -- yes, here we go! -- a few more sentences, one last connection between Dean and Benny, and then --

Oh, you are evil, MJ. You are so perfectly evil and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- Bri