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youryurigoddess · 6 months

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I was minding my own business and analyzing another part of the A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop from the Radio Times footage when I noticed something interesting on Aziraphale’s desk. It looks like the angel was studying a handwritten copy of someone’s last will and testament and left in a hurry, with a bronze medal and a fountain pen on top of it. And… an attachment of a land registry plan, barely visible underneath.

Obviously that’s when my South Downs obsessed brain turned all of its alarms on and decided to read the whole thing. And look for the missing parts, since only a portion of the original document was visible on screen. Unfortunately the full text is much longer and less exciting than anticipated, and — spoiler alert — related to a different area of the country, but still relevant to the Good Omens universe. We’ll look into that in a moment.

Let’s start with the struck bronze medal — acting here as a paperweight, which makes the documents in question already stand out from the usual bumph and bric-a-brac accumulated by Aziraphale over an unknown period of time on his desk.

It’s a very interesting rendition of the mythological scene centered around Daedalus fastening the wings onto his son Icarus (little does he know that this attempt to escape imprisonment will lead to his son’s demise). Contrary to popular sentiment in the history of art, this particular version of Icarus isn’t depicted as a child or teenager, but as a warrior donning a helmet and preparing himself to battle. Which makes perfect sense after discovering that it was made for the Royal Air Force Athletic & Cross Country Association’s WAAF Athletic Championships in 1945. There’s some poetic irony in the fact that the medal was apparently given to the third place winner in a high jump category.

Apart from its obviously military style, this concept seems inspired by a 1885-86 medal by Auguste Patey commemorating the experimental flights at the first French wind tunnel at Chalais-Meudon, a town on the banks of the Seine near Paris. On 9 August 1884, engineers Charles Renard and Arthur Constantin Krebs made the first controllable free flight there when they piloted their airship, La France, over a course and returned to their starting point. From 9 August 1884 to 23 September 1885, La France made seven flights and was able to return to its starting point five times.

The last Will and Testament of Josiah Wedgwood

The last Will and Testament of me, Josiah Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, made the second day of November, in the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety-three, in manner and form following (that is to say): I give and bequeath unto my dear and affectionate Wife, Sarah Wedgwood, all that messuage or dwelling-house situate at or near Etruria aforesaid, with the buildings, gardens, and appurtenances thereto belonging, late in the holding of Mr. Thomas Wedgwood; and also all that field or piece of land in which the same stands, containing eight acres or thereabouts; and also all that close, piece, or parcel of land lying contiguous to the said dwelling-house, called the Horse Pasture, containing by estimation twelve acres or thereabouts; and also all that piece or parcel of land situate at Etruria aforesaid, heretofore purchased by me from Mr. Hugh Booth; To have and to hold the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my said Wife, Sarah Wedgwood and her assigns, for and during the term of her natural life. And from and after her decease, I give and devise all and singular the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments, and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my Son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever. Also I give and bequeath the sum of three thousand pounds unto my said Wife, to be paid to her within twelve months next after my decease. Also I give and bequeath unto my said Wife so much and such part of my household goods and furniture as is mentioned and specified in the Schedule or Paper Writing hereunto annexed, marked with the Letter A. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten thousand pounds unto my Executors hereinafter named, upon trust that they, my said Executors, do and shall place the said sum of ten thousand pounds out upon some good and sufficient public or private security or securitys, at interest, to be approved of nevertheless by my said Wife, and do and shall pay to, or permit and suffer my said Wife to receive and take the interest, dividends, and produce of the said sum of Ten thousand pounds, as the same shall from time to time become due to and for her own use and benefit for and during the term of her natural life.

And from and after the decease of my said Wife, I direct that the said sum of ten thousand pounds shall be applied for and towards payment and satisfaction of the several legacys or sums of money hereinafter given by me. And I do hereby direct that the provision hereinbefore made or intended for my said Wife shall be in lieu, bar, and satisfaction of dower and thirds at Common Law. Also I give and devise unto my said Executors, for the use of my said son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever, that part of Etruria Estate which I now occupy, upon the north side of the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek, with the house I now live in, the outbuildings belonging to the same, with the pleasure grounds and all appurtenances thereto belonging, being about sixty-five acres; and also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Richard Hall, being about sixty-eight acres; And also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Thomas Ford, being about forty-five acres; and also the Estate late a part of the White House Estate, on the south side the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek; and likewise the land purchased from Thomas Heath, with a small meadow on the north side the said Road, and lying in the Parish of Woolstanton; and likewise a meadow lately purchased from John Mare, of Handley, — all in the holding of Richard Billington, being altogether about eighty-one acres; and also a piece of land on the south side of the same Road, now in the holding of Daniel Haywood, being about two acres; and also an Estate bought from George Taylor, and now in the holding of Jonathan Adams, being about nine acres; and also a small piece of land adjoining the land bought from Hugh Booth, together with a part of the Hough Meadow, and now in the holding of John Ryder, being about four acres; and also an estate called the Spittels, situate in Penkhull, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, and lately purchased from James Godwin, containing sixty-three acres or thereabouts; and also an Estate adjoining to the Spittels on one side, and to Stoke Lane on the other, situate in Penkhull aforesaid, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, late in the holding of Humphrey Ratcliff, containing fifteen acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land called the Woodhills, situate in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, lately purchased from Ralph Baddeley, and now in my own occupation, being about eleven acres; and also all buildings, tenements, houses, farmhouses, outhouses, pot works, warehouses, workshops, and other buildings, of what kind soever they may be, situate, standing, and being upon any of the land or premises above named, and not hereinbefore devised; and also all my share of the models and molds of the Manufactory in Etruria aforesaid. Also I give and bequeath the sum of thirty thousand pounds unto my son John Wedgwood. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and likewise twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, unto my Son Thomas Wedgwood.

Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my daughter Susannah Wedgwood; and which said several legacys or sums of thirty thousand pounds, and twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, and twenty-five thousand pounds, so given to my said Son John Wedgwood, and to my said Son Thomas Wedgwood, and to my said Daughter Susannah Wedgwood, I do hereby direct shall be paid to them as soon as conveniently may be after my decease, together with interest for the same in the mean time, after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Catharine Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Sarah Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Provided always, and I do hereby direct, that in case my said Daughters Catherine Wedgwood and Sarah Wedgwood, or either of them, shall happen to die unmarried before the age of twenty-one years, then that the legacy or legacys of her or them so dying shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal Estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly, as shall hereinafter be mentioned. Also I do hereby declare it to be my will that all the rest, residue, and remainder of my said stock in trade, goods, wares, implements, materials, and utensils of trade, and other matters and things used by me, in or belonging to my said Manufactory, except the models or molds therein used or kept, shall, at the time of my decease, sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. Also I give and bequeath all and singular my household goods and furniture not hereinbefore given to my said Wife, together with all my books, prints, books of prints, pictures, and cabinets of Experiments, of Fossils, and of Natural History, unto my said Son Josiah Wedgwood. And I do hereby commit the Guardianship and Tuition of such of my said children as shall not at the time of my decease have attained the age of twenty-one years unto my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, until such children shall attain the said age. And I do direct that the fortunes or portions of such of my said children shall in the mean time be managed by my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, and a competent part of the interest and produce thereof be applied for their maintenance and education, and the residue of such interest and produce be suffered to accumulate for their benefit and advantage in such manner as my said Wife and Son John Wedgwood shall in their discretion think most meet and proper.

Also I givo and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto my Brother in Law, Philip Clark, for and during the term of his natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of Twenty pounds unto my Niece, Sarah Taylor, for and during the term of her natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto Mr. Alexander Chisholm, for and during the term of his natural life; recommending it to my Son Josiah Wedgwood to give him any further assistance that he may stand in need of, to make the remainder of his life easy and comfortable. And I do hereby direct that the said several and respective annuitys of twenty pounds, twenty pounds, and twenty pounds shall be paid and payable quarterly, at the four most usual feasts or days of payment in the year, (that is to say) on every twenty-fifth day of March, twenty-fourth day of June, twenty-ninth day of September, and twenty-fifth day of December, by even and equal portions, free and clear of and from all taxes, charges, and deductions whatsoever; the first payment thereof to begin and be made on such of the said days as shall first and next happen after my decease. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten guineas unto the said Alexander Chisholm, as a testimony of my regard for him. Also I give and bequeath the sum of two hundred pounds apiece unto all and every the children of my Nephew Thomas Byerley, who shall be living at the time of my decease, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case any one or more of the said children shall happen to die without issue before he, she, or they shall attain the said age, then I direct that the legacy or legacys to him, her, or them so dying shall go and be paid unto and amongst the survivors or survivor of them equally, share and share alike, in case there shall be more than one, at such time and in such manner as is hereinbefore directed and expressed of and concerning the said original legacys or sums of two hundred pounds: Provided also, and in case all the said children shall happen to die without issue before they shall attain the said age, then I direct that all the said legacies or sums of Two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. And I do hereby expressly direct and declare that no interest shall be allowed or paid upon the said respective legacys or sums of two hundred pounds in the mean time from my decease to the time that the same shall become payable by virtue of this my Will; such legacys or sums of two hundred pounds being given by me in lieu of legacys or sums of one hundred pounds, which it was originally my intention to have directed to be placed out at interest, and to have accumulated for such children of the said Thomas Byerley as aforesaid until they should attain the age of twenty-one years. Also I give and bequeath unto each of my Nephews Thomas and John Wedgwood, Sons of my late Nephew Thomas Wedgwood, of the Upper House in Burslem, the sum of two hundred pounds each, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case they shall either or both of them die before they arrive at the age of twenty-one years, I direct that the legacy or legacys of the party or parties so dying, of two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid, shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly.

Also I give to my Servant George Jones the sum of twenty guineas, as a token of my remembrance of his faithful services to me. Also I give and bequeath to the several persons whose names shall be mentioned and comprised in the Schedule or List hereto annexed, signed with my name, and marked with the letter "B," the mourning Rings or other small legacys or sums of money which shall be therein specified and expressed. Also I give and bequeath unto James Caldwell, Esq., of Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the sum of one hundred pounds, which I desire he will accept as a testimony of my friendship and esteem for him. And I do hereby direct and appoint that my said Nephew Thomas Byerley shall, under the direction of my Executors, settle my accounts and manage and conduct the collection of my debts and other matters relating to the settlement of my concerns in business; and that a Salary of one hundred pounds per annum be allowed and paid to him for such particular service, so long as he shall be employed therein, over and above all charges and expenses attending the same. And it is also my Will that an estate at Burslem, late in the occupation of Joseph Wedgwood, consisting of a newly erected dwelling house, a set of pot works, with other buildings, and a field called the Cross Hill, containing altogether about two acres; and likewise an estate in the Parish of Astbury, in the County of Chester, called Spengreen, and now in the holding of Thomas Johnson, containing about seventy-five acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land on the east side of the Bridge in Congleton, in the said County of Chester, being about two rods; and also all the rest, residue, and remainder, messages, lands, tenements, hereditaments, and real estate, money, securities for money, debts due and owing, personal Estate and Effects of what nature or kind soever or wheresoever, not hereinbefore particularly devised or disposed of, together with such or so much of the several sums of money hereinbefore mentioned and bequeathed as shall, by means of the contingencies and directions hereinbefore expressed, shall all of them sink into and become parts of the said residue of my personal Estate. And I do hereby give, devise, and bequeath the same unto my said Executors, for the payment of the legacys and annuities hereinbefore mentioned; and provided there should be a residue after the above mentioned payments, then I direct that such residue shall go and be divided unto and amongst my said children, John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, equally, share and share alike, as tenants in common, and not as joint tenants; and if there should be any deficiency of real or personal estates for paying the said legacys and annuitys, such deficiency shall in that case be born equally amongst and made up by those my said children above named, (that is to say) John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, share and share alike, in proportion to the amount of the legacys to them herein left and bequeathed. And I do hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint my said Wife, my said Son John Wedgwood, and the said James Caldwell, Esq., Executrix and Executors of this my Will. And lastly, I do hereby revoke all former or other Will or Wills by me at any time heretofore made, and do declare this only to be my last Will and Testament.

In witness whereof I have to this my last Will and Testament, contained in six sheets of paper, and have to each of the first five sheets thereof set my hand, and to the sixth and last sheet thereof my hand and seal the day and year first before written. — Jos. Wedgwood (L.S.)

Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said Josiah Wedgwood, as and for his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who in his presence, and in the presence of each other, have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses thereto; the several following words being first interlined: money—my—happen—said. — Alexr. Chisholm, Thomas Mitchell, Joseph Mitchell, Joseph Rutland

John Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, Esquire, maketh oath, and saith that he has searched among the papers and writings of his late Father, Josiah Wedgwood, late of Etruria aforesaid, Esquire, deceased, in order to find certain Schedules or Paper Writings referred to in the last Will and Testament of the said Josiah Wedgwood, and therein mentioned to be annexed thereto, and respectively marked A and B. And this Deponent further saith that he has not been able to find such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them; and this Deponent further saith that he has never heard or been informed, nor does he believe that the said Josiah Wedgwood ever wrote or made out, or caused to be written or made out, such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them. — John Wedgwood

Sworn at Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the 29th day of June, 1795, Before me, John Lloyd, a Commissioner.

Proved at London, 2nd July, 1795, before the Judge, by the Oath of John Wedgwood, the Son, one of the Executors, to whom Administration was granted, having been first sworn by Commission duly to administer. Power reserved of making the like grant to Sarah Wedgwood, Widow, the Relict, and James Caldwell, the other Executors, when they shall apply for the same.

That was… certainly a lot of words. Let’s see if they mean anything! Turns out that this isn’t another John Gibson, rural postman and shoemaker from New Cumnock, Scotland, but a prominent historical figure with close familial connections to someone whose name you definitely know.

Josiah Wedgwood (12 July 1730 – 3 January 1795) was an English potter, entrepreneur and abolitionist. Founding the Wedgwood company in 1759, he developed improved pottery bodies by systematic experimentation, and was the leader in the industrialisation of the manufacture of European pottery. He is credited as a pioneer of modern marketing, specifically direct mail, money back guarantees, travelling salesmen, carrying pattern boxes for display, self-service, free delivery, buy one get one free, and illustrated catalogues.

As well as pretty, decorative vases and crockery with aesthetics and technology rooted in antiquity, Wedgwood put his designs to a more radical use. He was elected onto the Committee of the Abolition of the Slave Trade and designed an anti-slavery medallion which became the most famous image of a black person in all of 18th-century art. Covering the costs of distribution and production himself, Wedgwood ensured that it became a powerful symbol of public support.

Josiah was also a founder of the famous Darwin–Wedgwood family and the grandfather of Charles and Emma Darwin. It was the considerable inheritance Josiah left to his son, Josiah II, that enabled young Darwin’s survey voyage aboard HMS Beagle and, consequently, the development of his theory of evolution.

Okay, but what links the “Prince of Potters” to Aziraphale and his bookshop?

In 1774 Josiah Wedgwood and his longtime business partner, Thomas Bentley, opened a new warehouse, enamelling rooms and most handsome showrooms at 12-13 Greek Street, Soho. In 1795, after Josiah’s death, the Wedgwood studio moved to 8 St. James’s Square and the buildings were later occupied by coachmakers, writers and other artists.

Now, through Word of God we already know that Aziraphale spent the 1600s using his personal savings to gradually buy out portions of the neighboring land in order to build the original bookshop “on Greek Street just off Old Compton”, which finally opened in its current form in 1800.

This means that for the time Josiah’s company operated in Soho, they were at least neighbors.

#Yuri is doing her thing #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #A. Z. Fell & Co.#aziraphale #aziraphale’s bookshop #aziraphale is a landlord #and has a penchant for legal documents #which sounds a bit too ominous for an angel

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avatar-anna · 10 months

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Girl Gone Live

this is literally so stupid and so corny, but i don't care i'm here for a good time, not a long time, you know? enjoy!

"Okay, is this working? How do I know this is working?"

You squinted at the screen, feeling older than you actually were as you waited for some sign that the live stream you set up was working. Thankfully, comments started rolling through and the viewer count went up, and then it started to skyrocket, which made you a little nervous.

"I...think it's working! Cool. Well, um, obviously I'm Y/n L/n, and I'm a celebrity makeup artist. I recently did Olivia Rodrigo's makeup for her music video 'Vampire,' and I thought I would kind of walk you through how I achieved that look, I guess."

Before going live, you'd considered making a little script but decided against it. Hearing yourself bumble through the introduction now, though, you kind of wished you had.

No one seemed to be put off by your awkwardness, though. As comments streamed past, you saw some about the music video and Olivia and what it was like to work with her, but there were also a lot about Harry. You weren't necessarily surprised by Harry's fans flooding the comment section because you sometimes appeared in the background of posts from other people on Love on Tour and you'd become known as the tour's makeup artist. Sometimes you posted the looks you did for performances and little videos of you doing makeup before the show. The attention was a little jarring if you thought about it too long, but you decided it could be worse. After all, you were Harry Styles' long-term girlfriend.

But that wasn't what this livestream was about.

Your eyes scanned the comments as they moved a mile a minute, hoping to snag on a question. "Oh! Someone asked how I met Olivia. Um, as some of you may know, I'm currently working as the makeup artist for Love on Tour, and Olivia came to one of the shows, and we just talked for a really long time about makeup, and she asked me to do her makeup for the video a few weeks later."

It was a fun side gig while you were on tour with Harry and his band. You loved touring for the most part, but this was something different and exciting, so you flew back home during a break in the tour to work with Olivia on "Vampire." Harry tagged along, happy to watch you work instead of the other way around for once. He had a grin on his face the whole time as he watched you do your thing, playing assistant, grabbing whatever you needed when you asked, and holding a palette for you while you did Olivia's makeup. Overall, it was a fun shoot for both of you.

You were back on tour now, and since you had a little time to kill, you decided to go live for the first time to talk about makeup. If it went well, you could maybe make it a regular thing, so you hoped people actually watched and were interested.

*.*

Brynn watched her phone intently, pen in hand as she waited for Y/n to name-drop the next product she was using so she could write it down and see if she could afford it later. Not only was Brynn a huge fan of Olivia Rodrigo, but she had been a Harry Styles fan since she was in grade school, and when she got the notification that Y/n was going live, she was one of the first people to join.

"Luxury or drugstore makeup? Good question," Y/n said as she moisturized her face. "Honestly both. I love trying new things and seeing what works for me. When I was starting out, I mostly had MAC in my makeup kit, but now I've branched out a little more and added things here and there. But that's my professional kit, which has all the things I know with certainty will work perfectly for whatever look I'm trying to achieve. My personal one is where I do more experimentation with brands and products and trends. I guess that doesn't really answer the question, so both. I definitely use both.

"And what's cool is that Olivia loves makeup too, so she kind of knew her way around and what products worked best for her," Y/n continued.

She's so cool, Brynn thought as Y/n moved onto explaining how she did Olivia's base makeup. She didn't feel like Y/n was trying to push any particular product on her audience, nor did she hide which products she used. Her explanations were clear and easy to follow, and she even gave alternative products when she used one that was on the pricier side.

"Olivia loves herself a glowy base, and we really played that up because of the song. So to give her that Cullen-esque sparkle, I added some liquid highlighter into her foundation."

Brynn watched intently, wanting to see just how Y/n did it. Then, feeling compelled, she typed a comment. She didn't think Y/n would notice it, or be able to see it at all amongst the thousands of others, but she couldn't help but try to be noticed.

As Y/n blended her foundation in, Y/n smiled. "Someone asked how long it takes to do Harry's makeup on tour. Um...It kind of depends. Sometimes it's hard to actually get him in the chair because he gets so pumped up before he goes onstage. But once he settles enough for me to do it, it goes pretty quick. If he lets me, I get to put a little bit of glowy balm on his cheeks, but that's as creative as I get."

Y/n's smile changed, though Brynn couldn't really say how. It was almost like she was exasperated as she talked about Harry, and Brynn became just a tiny bit jealous that this person on the other side of her screen for knowing him well enough to be exasperated by him. What she wouldn't give to chase Harry Styles around so she could do his makeup. It left Brynn wondering how people even got into these situations.

Y/n finished up her base makeup while she answered more questions about the makeup products she used for the music video and a few about Love on Tour. She talked about her favorite songs and the places she'd been and the people she hung out with before and after shows.

"Oh boy, okay. I'm not a huge fan of bold lip colors on myself, but this is what I used on Olivia," Y/n said as she lined her lips. She'd just finished adding a light, almost haphazard, dusting of shimmer to her eyes, and despite the pixelated live stream feed, Brynn could still see it catch the light. "We wanted this to be the focal point of the whole look because, you know, vampires."

Y/n stopped talking briefly as she applied the lipstick she used for the music video, then shifted from side to side with her hands beneath her chin to show off the finished look. "Not my usual style, but—"

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

For a moment, Brynn thought she was dreaming. Mouth dropped open in shock, she watched as Harry Styles appeared onscreen in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His hair was messy, as if he'd just been sleeping or a storm had just run through it. The video quality wasn't great because it was a live stream, but Brynn couldn't help but think he looked so cute and warm with his sleepy eyes, especially as he stretched his arms above his head, though her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when the waistband of his sweatpants dropped a centimeter. Not even caring that they'd fallen a bit, Harry shuffled forward and sat down next to Y/n and kissed her shoulder. He didn't seem to notice Y/n's phone propped up in front of her, or the look of disbelief and slight horror on her face. Not when she tried to speak to him, and not when he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

And through it all Brynn watched, feeling like she'd entered an alternate dimension.

"You look cute. I like the sparkle," Harry said, tapping his knuckle against Y/n's nose. She still looked like she was in shock, but when he leaned in—leaned in to kiss her, Brynn realized—Y/n seemed to shake off some of her stupor.

"We—We're not alone," she said, gently resting her fingers over Harry's mouth to stop him.

Brynn didn't want to tear her eyes away from Harry and Y/n, but she darted her gaze down to the comment section, which confirmed everything. This was no dream, this was really happening, and everyone who was watching was losing their minds.

"What do you mean, lovie?" Harry asked, brows furrowing, clearly confused by Y/n's odd behavior. He finally looked at the camera, his brows shooting up when he realized that Y/n was live streaming all of this. "Oh."

"Yeah 'oh.'"

"I thought you were on the phone—"

"I wasn't!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know! You didn't tell me. And since when—"

"Harry put a shirt on!"

Brynn watched their bickering in a daze, waiting for the inevitable end of the live stream. To her surprise, though, Harry grinned a little before taking Y/n—and the whole Internet, to be honest—by surprise and kissing her.

"Are you insane?"

Harry merely shrugged. He leaned in again, but Y/n pushed his face back with the palm of her hand. They began to bicker again, but this time, Y/n scrambled for her phone in the process.

"You drive me crazy."

"Now, I know that's not true."

"Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God—"

And just like that, the live stream ended with a wink. Brynn stared down at her phone almost as if she was waiting for Harry and Y/n to reappear on her screen. They didn't, and she was left sitting alone in her bedroom, wondering what the hell had just happened.

#harry styles #harry styles x makeup artist! yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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artiocus · 4 months

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My submission for @merlintarotfest! I went fairly literal, but when I got my spread it fit too well to not go this route.

Posted in the collection on AO3!

I haven't tried my hand at Merlin fanart since I was a pixel artist, so this was fun! :D Also had fun trying out something new with the style. I took the oracle card drawn (The Witch) and used it both to determine the content (Morgana) and how I would handle the project (experimentation).

I feel like I should have added more details in some parts, but I ended up finishing these up in the midst of having Covid, so I was too tired to do much more than finish them up RIP

#Merlin BBC #Merlin Tarot Fest #Merlin Fanart #Morgana Pendragon #Digital Art #Nine of Swords #Nine of Pentacles #Wheel of Fortune #tarot art #my stuff #fanart #Mild implication of blood

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vase-of-lilies · 9 months

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❀ Pairing: Dark!Mermaid!Wanda x Sailor!Reader

❀ Non-con, dubcon, Captivity, restraints, slight experimentation, shapeshifting! Wanda, the ocean, sailing on a boat, a storm, shipwreck, a little bit of violence, virgin!reader (she has never had a sexual encounter, period. So she is very innocent), Wanda doesn’t know human anatomy lol, oral (r receiving), forced orgasm, overstimulation, fingering, (this next part is major whump, so PLEASE heed the warnings) Sewing readers legs together for a punishment, holding reader under the water until they pass out, screaming, lots of screaming, making someone stay unconscious with telekinesis, quick acceptance, soft-ish wanda, some fluff, Stockholm syndrome, (if there is anything else PLEASE let me know!!)

❀ Disclaimer and Authors Note: The pictures only represent aesthetics and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. I hope you like this! The pictures go to their rightful owners on Pinterest, and the comic-style picture belongs to the beautiful artist Jenifer Prince. I also have a really big feeling that Mermaids' love language is gift-giving. Because… stuff is all they find lol!

This is for @eloquentreverie 's Dusk Till Dawn writing challenge! I chose the lines “All you are is a liar…” “My love for you is not a lie.”

Bright rays of sunshine reflect off the water, not one cloud in the sky. The perfect conditions for sailing. You had been planning this trip for ages, and the perfect time has never been seen before now. Packing your bags was an easy task, all that was left was prepping your boat. Aphrodite is what you call her. The beautiful sailboat your father had left for you.

The sails are off-white, the texture of a canvas. In a way, this boat is its own form of art, and the beautiful name that your father picked fits perfectly. She was small, livable, and durable. It could withstand the fiercest of storms, waves, and monsters. Monsters, that you at least think are real. They were all just myths your mother told you about.

Mermaids that left trinkets on the helm of each ship they came across, an octopus-like creature pushing the boats in the wrong direction, and even the ocean itself; a lively source of nature that will always lead the way when these malicious creatures have any form of malicious intentions.

Making your way down to the pier, you are stopped by a villager, an older woman who knew your father very well. “Y/n! Y/n! Come here, I have something for your travels!” You hear from her frail yet powerful voice. She gently grabs your hands and pulls you into her home, making you giggle softly as she sits you on her couch.

“Now, I knew I would see you today because of the conditions out… there. I have this for you, wishing you safe travels and return.” She puts a dainty necklace in the palms of your hands. “It was a gift from your mother, she had told me to wait until you were older, and I think now would be the perfect time.” She smiles as you look at the beautiful oval-shaped locket.

“My family and I really love you, Eleanor. Thank you for taking such good care of us.” You smile up at her, closing your fingers around the locket with a picture of both your mother and your father. “Thank you, really, for everything.”

She shakes her head, “The only thing you owe me is a hug and a proper goodbye.” She says, opening her arms for you. You happily oblige, wrapping your arms around her hunched body. She was like a grandmother to you even when she was just a family friend, but you most definitely loved her as a grandmother.

“I love you so much, and I will most definitely bring you some trinkets if mermaids ever leave anything for me.” She chuckles in response and waves you off, sending you on your way to uncertainty.

Entering the deck of your boat was a feeling of freedom that you had longed to feel ever since the death of your parents. It was difficult to make it through the day without breaking down into your most vulnerable form; A sobbing, shaking mess.

Standing at the helm brought mixed emotions. You were finally here. You were finally able to feel like the woman your mother described you as. “You are a brave, independent, beautiful girl Y/n. You will do amazing things one day. That may be tomorrow or ten years from now. But amazing things they will be.”

Those words stuck with you from the day she died. Those words were what drove you to sail alone after all these years. She told you that you were brave, and that was all it took to motivate you to learn, grow, and persevere in your passion for sailing.

Now all you had to do was make sure you had enough food, water, and supplies in the cockpit, untie the sails, and mark the coordinates on your map. Once those subjects were taken care of, the last was to untie Aphrodite from the pier and raise the anchor and you are all good to go!

With the small gusts of winds every now and then, it would take about 6 to 7 hours for you to make it to your destination. That is if there is no storm, headwind, or pirates that you have to worry about. Crossing Captain Barnes is on your list of “most feared encounters” and you could not imagine getting stuck with him, let alone see him. Rumors say he lost his arm to the Kraken and used the gold from a found treasure to make a new arm. A much more dangerous one than he already had.

The thought of seeing him gives you chills in of itself, so you decide to put your mind to something else. You begin to steer the boat in the direction of your destination, your blue navy-themed sailing dress your mother made you flowing in the wind. You smile as the smell of salt and cold water fills your nose, the ocean and wind guiding you in the right direction.

~~~~~~~~ 3 hours later ~~~~~~~~

The clouds had come out of nowhere, casting a large, dark shadow over Aphrodite. The wind was skin-biting and strong, the waves getting unruly as she becomes angry with something. What? You had no idea. You had prepared for this, but the worst thing that could happen happened.

As you put on your dark blue cloak to keep warm, a large wave crashed over your boat. With much luck, Aphrodite held strong and pulled back up from the water. Raindrops soaked your clothes as well as waves that rolled over the surface of your boat. As you were pulling on the sails, you froze in fear. A colossal wave formed. Bigger than anything you have seen, towering over you. At this point, you knew your fate and you fully accepted it.

As the wave crashed over your boat, the water engulfed you into a frigid and bitter hug. The sheer force of this wave cracked your beautiful boat in two, ripped the sails a part as if it was cut by scissors, and lastly shredded your near-perfect map to shreds. It was a saddening sight to see to anyone on the outside.

As your vision fades to black, numbness takes over your system and you are finally at rest.

Or so you thought.

“Is she ok? She- Oh she’s breathing! She looks ok, just a little roughed up.”

‘Squawk!’

“She’s a human! She’s beautiful, she looks so cute in this little dress of hers.”

‘Squawk!’

“Can we keep her?”

A pause…

“Let's bring her inside, but we have to make sure she doesn’t escape. Grab some of the rope from her boat, that will hold her.”

“She scared? She scared?” The animal squawked.

“For certain…”

The voices were faded and muffled, and you felt like you were held in a bubble. Everything was quiet. The voices were smooth, siren-like, minus the power. There was something dark in the woman’s voice that hovered over you. There was something in her voice that sounded almost… dark and evil. As if she had malicious intentions with you.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of waves crashing against the sand, but you were not on the beach anymore. You were in a cave, a dark, cold, dreary cave. With a pounding in your head, you moved your hand to your temple. Well, tried to. You look to your left, letting your eyes get used to the darkness and you see rings of rope around your wrist, holding you to a rusty bed frame. Looking to your right you see the same.

Struggling was your first instinct, but you were frozen in place. It was fear taking over your body and you didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t much you could do in your state. It was so cold, and you couldn’t find a way to get warm.

“H-hello?” Your voice echoes in the abyss of the dark cave in front of you and you have yet to hear anything other than that. But moments later, other voices fill the cavern's echos.

“I wonder when she will wake up, oh I sure hope it’s soon.” One voice said. Were they talking about me? You think to yourself.

“Well, when she does, it will be quite the surprise don’t you think?” That voice, it was the voice that sounded evil…

In an instant, the dark cave was filled with lowly lit torches. From what you could see was a room full of different trinkets, a makeshift vanity with a sea-glass mirror, shelf portions of the cave filled with sea shells, and lastly her.

A beautiful woman walks into the cave carrying what looks to be wood, sail rope, some canvas sails, and cloth. It took you a moment to realize that these were parts of Aphrodite. Your precious boat.

“Ah, she’s awake.” The woman says to her accomplice, a parrot on her shoulder.

“Awake! Awake! Awake! Awake!” The parrot responds, making the woman let out a soft chuckle.

“Please, let me go!” You plead.

“No, you are mine now and I get to do what I please,” She gives you a smug smile and sets her trinkets and shells down on her vanity. You watch her carefully, salty tears falling down your cheeks as you pull at the ropes around your wrists. “There is no coming out of those ropes, darling. I know how to tie a good knot” She emphasizes the ’t’, making you jump slightly in response.

“Such a curious creature humans are. They move around on these water contraptions just to go see another piece of land. Can you imagine that?” She says, chuckling at her own question. “Well of course you can, you were doing just that!” She moves towards the makeshift seaweed and canvas bed and sits on the edge.

“I have yet to see a real human up close and see what they are really like. How much pain and torture they can take, just like my sisters had to endure.”

Her intentions scared you, and her smirk told you that she already knew that. “P-please don’t hur-” she cut you off with a laugh and a mockery of your fear.

“Puh puh puh, please! Oh don’t be so cute, I love hearing screams of fear…” She leans close to your face, her tongue sliding against your cheek and picking up a tear. “Mmmm, tastes so good. I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.” You whimper as her eyes turn bright red and before you know it, the clothes are ripped from your body leaving you nude, cold, and exposed. You flail your feet attempting to kick her, but she quickly pins them down and wraps more rope around them, connecting them to the bed posts at the bottom.

She shakes her head at your action and gently slides her fingers over your now exposed belly, “Nuh uh, none of that. We don’t need anyone else to get hurt, right?” You shiver in response, making her smile grow even bigger. “Oh, so you feel me…” She realizes and she runs her fingers up your belly, and to the valley of your breasts.

Your reactions are very minimal at first, but then she starts going in other directions. “Hmm, I have little buttons like these too, I wonder what yours do?” She moves and grazes her fingers over your nipple, making you shudder. A new feeling has come to you, and the woman takes note. “Ah, how interesting. This little bud of skin is much more sensitive than the skin over here…” She does the same motion of rolling her fingers but with just a small section of skin from your breast.

“What if we do both?” She inquires, moving both her hands above your breasts. Taking both nipples in her fingers, she smiles at your reaction of curling in on yourself. The little noises you make are what set her off. “Wow, how amazing,” She whispers, smirking at your reaction. As you whine and shake your body slightly, you try to get her off of you, but she is just pulled towards you again.

“Someone is a little feisty,” She slaps your breast harshly and you yelp in pain. She chuckles and stands up. “Now let me introduce myself. I am Wanda, and as you can see I take the shape of a human, like you. But I am nothing of the kind. I have morals.” She pauses, and moves between your spread-open legs. “When I got the ability to use my shapeshifting power, I first wanted to try to be human. Just to see what it feels like to walk and run. I liked it at first, but then came this feeling that I can’t describe. It is like a fire was lit right here,” she puts her hand just above your lower regions, goosebumps pebbling at the touch of her skin on yours.

“There was nothing I could do to put it out. So I explored down there… I have a button down there just like up here,” She rolls your nipples in her fingers once again, making you whine in protest. “Oh, my Poseidon… it felt heavenly when I rubbed it just right. I thought the feeling would never end! But then it did… it felt like I exploded. It was like getting caught in a wave, only to fall back down into warm water again.” She smiles down at you from her spot between your legs.

“I want to see if you feel it too.” She smirks and you whimper as you pull at the restraints around your limbs. Dismissing you, her fingers spread your slick petals and she gently rubs around the top of your pussy. A soft moan emits from your mouth and she gasps. “Oh, I think I found your button too,” Wanda continues to rub your clit, loving every single reaction from your mouth. With curiosity, she pokes at your entrance with her fingers. When she enters her fingers into your wet cunt, the moan from your mouth is beautiful.

“That was beautiful, I need to see more!” She exclaims and starts to move her fingers in and out of your hole while rubbing your clit. With never feeling these things before, you are like an exposed nerve and are oh, so, sensitive.

You soon start to feel what she was describing, the fire, the riding up the wave, and after seconds, the falling from that wave and into warm water. As you cum, she smiles at the feeling of your walls clenching around her fingers. “It feels nice, doesn’t it…” she states, not addressing it as a question. You vigorously shake your head, denying her. She smirks, knowing deep down you absolutely love it.

The ropes burn your limbs and you were tired. But Wanda was far from done. She had so much more planned as she was infatuated with your pussy and how it pulsed around her fingers. “Should we see how many more of these little episodes we can see today?”

“N-no! No, please no more, I- I want to go home, please,” You beg, knowing deep down you most likely won’t make it out of here. Not without a fight. Already you were scheming how you could possibly escape her, but your thoughts were shut down as Wandas' fingers intruded your hole at a fast rate. Her fingers moved in and out of your cunt, a burning feeling bubbling inside of you once again.

“Oh, you’re so wet down here, little one. I swear if I go too fast, there may be a tidal wave coming at me.” She smirks at her words, not slowing her pace as she curls her fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your moans were music to her ears, like putting a sea shell to one's ear and hearing the beauty of the ocean on the other side.

Failing miserably, you try to quiet your moans. But the feelings are just too intense for you to handle. She leans down as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you and smiles as she licks along your red, hot clit. Your legs jolt once a more sensitive wave of pleasure falls over you, her tongue moving expertly over your little bud. Your back arches as much as it can with the bonds keeping you down and you try to enjoy your current state under Wandas' domination.

In a matter of seconds, you are crumbling at the feel of Wandas' three fingers inside of you as well as her tongue licking your clit over and over again. Cumming a second time was even more of an experience. You saw white as your orgasm came crashing over you once again. Whimpers come out of your mouth as tears are falling down your cheeks. It’s too much, and your cunt feels like it's on fire.

Finally, Wanda has had enough, and she lets out a sigh as she looks down at your abused petals. “Aw, look how red you are. You must be so sensitive, hm?” She chuckles at your fucked out sounds as she grazes your clit with the back of a finger, your hips pulling away in retaliation. You whimper as she suddenly stands up, her other fingers leaving your hole in an instant. You shudder at the emptiness, letting out a sob as your emotions take control of your body again.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry, we have just barely begun.” Her smile is malicious and full of evil. There is nothing welcoming about her smile, almost like the waxing gibbous, right before a full moon. Only a sliver of a smile of the night sky, then the werewolves come out. Her teeth were sharp but smooth enough to look human. But she was far from human.

You found out she was a mermaid while she let you roam the beach a little bit. All she gave you for clothing was a paper bag-type dress made out of the canvas of your sails, and a rope around your middle as a belt. She took the chains from the anchor of your boat and kept it around your ankle, the other end under a very heavy bolder that she moved with her powers.

While you stayed on the beach, chained to the rock that gave you the shade you needed, Wanda was hunting. There was a little bit of forest above the cave you both took shelter in, but she warned you to never go in there. Well, not without her. You were curious as to know if there was danger, or if she just didn’t want you out of her sight. But it was easy to say, she did not want you going anywhere.

Sitting on the beach was the little bit of freedom that you looked forward to every day. One hundred and eighty-two (182) days of being in Wandas' captivity. You learned on day seven (7) to never run away from her. She will make everything hurt. She will take everything away from you if you try to take yourself away from her.

On day seven (7), you found a way to rub the chain links together and break the loop off of your foot. Making sure she was in the water, you made a run for it on the wet sand of the beach. Trying to go around the island and then out into the ocean was your goal. Wanda sensed you were gone the second the chain broke. It was no use trying to swim away from a mermaid.

She caught up with you in a matter of seconds, her webbed tail making her swim much faster than you; A mere human. She grabbed your ankle from underneath the water, dragging you down to the ocean floor. Not too deep as she knows the pressure builds, but deep enough where you would not be able to escape. She smiled as you thrashed against her iron grip, your arms trying desperately to reach the surface, and the last few bubbles exited your mouth as you finally fell unconscious.

Once you were out, she pulled you to the beach, getting the water from your lungs and making sure you are breathing again. She sent a wave of energy over your body, keeping you in an unconscious state. Picking you up, your head hung over her arm as your legs hung over her other arm. She looked at your sleeping face in slight disappointment as you were doing so good the few days before this. She knew that the time outside was going to be limited as part of the punishment she was going to give you.

Laying you on the bed, she gathers a few trinkets she has found. Including a sewing kit. She looked over your body and stripped you of your canvas dress. She laced the rope around your arms and fastened them to the rusty bars above your head. Angrily, she stares, thinking of the things she is going to do to you when you wake up. She growls and pounces on top of you, grabbing your legs and putting them together. She takes more rope from your boat and wraps your thighs and ankles, rendering you unable to walk.

Now comes the painful part; She threads the thread through the eye of the needle and pinches the skin of your thigh. Carefully she puts the needle through your skin, puncturing through the layers mercilessly. As she pulls the thread through the hole in your skin, she meticulously sews your legs together in an intricate zig-zag shape from your left leg to your right leg. Once she gets to just above the rope around your ankles she hums at her work, making sure that you won’t be able to pull the thread out of your legs, even if you tried as hard as you could.

Waving her hand takes away the power keeping you unconscious, and she makes her way out of the cave, not wanting to hear your screams as you realize what she had done to you. Of course, she loved to hear you scream, but not in pain. It was never meant to be this way. If you had just listened and stayed where you were put, this never would have happened. As she transforms into her mermaid form, she dives into the ocean to cool off as she was much too angry to argue with you, worried she would kill you in the snap of a finger if you said the wrong thing to her.

You started to come to, becoming more and more aware of your surroundings by the second. Once again, you tried to move, only to be stopped by the ropes around your wrists, but there was much more than what was done to you last time. You looked to the source of the tension of your legs and your panic set in. Screams of pain and horror echoed through the cave, tears and sobs were heard for miles outside of the cave, and Wanda was nowhere near where she could hear them.

~~~~~~~

More than a few hours later, your sobs had calmed to nothing more than whimpers. Your legs were screaming in pain, blood dripping from each of the holes Wanda's needle had made, soaking the thread and keeping them together. You closed your eyes, hoping that someone would find you, help you, kill you. But your wishes were only met with more fear.

As Wanda entered the cave, she had a whole net of fish, more shells, and trinkets from the ocean floor, as well as the part of your ship you were going to miss the most: The picture of you, your father, and your mother. It was still in its gold-plated frame, the monotone black and white of the picture still prominent. “I brought you a couple things,” Wanda says, unapologetically. Setting the net down, she places a pink and coral-colored conch shell next to you on the bed, the picture, and what looks like a shell necklace that she put together herself.

You did not acknowledge her in the slightest. From the moment she walked into the cave, to the moment she begged you to talk to her. She even untied your arms and helped you sit up, but you didn’t say a word. In a fit of rage, she throws your body against the bed, letting you curl against yourself as you try to undo the thread.

“It's not going to come off. I put a spell on it, and until you talk to me, it will stay that way. Do you understand?” She holds your chin in her hands, her sharp nails digging into your soft, beautiful skin. You whimper in response, tears pooling in your eyes. A few fall, but Wanda is quick to wipe them away as you look up at her. She gives you a soft smile and your brows furrow. This smile is different, it's out of pity, and out of a different type of intent. “Please, say something…” She whispers, tears of her own filling her eyes.

“Wh-why did you do this to me?” You whimper, pulling your hands away from the thread and to your chest to cover yourself.

“Because you ran away… I told you to stay here, and you disobeyed me. This never would have happened if you just stayed, and enjoyed the sun like I so generously allowed you!”

Her eyes close, and she covers them with her hand. As she removes her hand, she sits down on the bed and her eyes soften as she looks at you. “I never wanted this to happen, love. You are mine, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

"All you are is a liar..." You respond, with no emotion in your voice, eyes, or heart. Wanda sighs and helps you sit up once again.

“My love for you is not a lie.” She says, moving to the floor as your legs drape over the side of the bed. She unties your thighs and ankles, her hands glowing a soft red color. Your legs lose feeling for only a moment, and you watch in awe as the thread is removed without pain or discomfort. It floats out of your skin, and the holes where it once was were closed. “Please forgive me, my little human. I won’t do this unless you make me angry. You won’t be punished if you don’t do something punishable. Do you understand me?”

You nod softly as the feeling returns to your legs. You stand up, as does Wanda. You stumble at first, but you slowly make your way out of the cave and over to the rock where your chain lay. You wrap the chain around your ankle and hold it up for Wanda to seal with her magic. She looks at you, confused.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

You sigh and you hold up your foot again. “Im showing you I can be good. That I can keep a promise of being good.” She understands and seals the lock over the two open links. You stand up again, and you make your way to the water. You have already accepted the fact that will rip the dress off of you when you get back inside anyway, so you stand in the sun, bathing in the warmth as you stand nude. You are grateful that the chain grants you the length to reach the water.

The waves make you sway slightly, and you close your eyes. Your destiny has proven itself, and you were to stay captive with Wanda.

Soon enough, day three hundred sixty-five (365) hits and you are smiling with Wanda. Happily letting her devour you every night to her heart's desire, as well as shower you with gifts and jewels she finds on her hunting trips. In a form of trust, you both agree to a collar around your neck. One that claims you as well as keeps you on the island when Wanda is away. It was a way for Wanda to make sure you were safe, and a way for you to feel secure in someone's watch. And if any pirates come to the island, it would notify Wanda if you were in danger.

She loved to see you in the sun, the jewels around your neck shimmering in the bright sunlight above you. A bright ruby right at the center of your neck, represents the love that Wanda has gifted upon you. Every morning when you woke up in her arms, you felt safe and sound, and no longer in danger of her. Of course, you were never going to make it home to Eleanore, so you threw a bottle with a letter in it into the ocean hoping that it finds her well.

Yours and Wandas' routine grew every day, her even letting you go for a swim. She would transform into her mermaid form, and you would hold onto her shoulders as she sped through the water at speeds you have never felt before. On other days, she would take you to the edge of the forest above her cave. She told you stories of the cannibals that lived among the trees but willingly agreed to keep on their side of the island and never venture past the river about a mile into the grove of trees.

You would tell stories of when you sailed with your father and cooked with your mother. Wanda loved to hear about humans and the hobbies or skills you can acquire with the right supplies and practice. She was infatuated with humans just as she was with you.

One of your favorite things to do with Wanda was lay out on the sand at night, a soft seaweed blanket underneath you both, the water reflecting the moon, and the stars shimmering above you. For every shooting star there was, you would point to it and give Wanda a soft kiss on her cheek, making her smile and return the kiss. That was a nightly ritual you both had and when the both of you had soaked up the moonlight for the perfect amount of time, she would take you inside and make love to you. She would worship you, and care for you. She gave you meaning in a world where you had no one else to be there for.

She loved you.

Your keeper loves you, yet you love her too.

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daughterofcain-67 · 2 months

Text

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

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ioniansunsets · 5 months

Note

may i please have some heartsteel yone/f!reader? i haven't seen much of my beloved producer 🥺

✖ Heartsteel!Yone x Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 2k

✖ Tags: Long Term Established R/S

✖ A/N: You get together with Yone 10 years ago in Japan. HC Yone as someone who started out DJ-ing at clubs before outgrowing the scene and fading to obscurity online before Heartsteel picked him up.

---- Meeting Him ----

- You met him back in Japan, back when you visited clubs and actually managed to catch his DJ-ing before he quit. It was underground but it was unique. Experimental stuff that just somehow still sounded so damn good to you. You found yourself drawn to him and eventually going up to talk to him during a break between sets. He fell in love with you shortly after, he had a small but loyal fanbase and having someone like you appear at every single one of his performances really weakened the walls around his heart.

- You spent college dropping by any of Yone's appearances throughout your fall quarter and as school went on and as winter break came over, you finally found the time and energy to hang around and visit his other appearances too. Some fun mall gigs, cute online streams in the day, even managing to land a dj-ing gig at a local dance competition. You could tell it was hard, he had a distinctive style that was as much a pro as it was a con and eventually he faded away from performing at all in person.

- It was his 'Final Performance' so the speak. That late night in the club, a drink in hand, bright smiles as you had fun with you friends while watching the elusive masked dj on his little stage. It was his final performance. Now or never to confess your love for both him and his music, your nerves straight ice as the night slowly drew to a close. Unbeknown to you, he too, felt exactly the same as he watched you from the stand. The passing comments and small conversations the two of you shared over the months left him yearning for something more with you.

- And it was sweet when it finally happened. Uncharacteristically gentlemanly coming from a DJ. You stayed as the club begun to close, Yone walking up to talk to you just like any other time a friendly conversation before he offers you a small giftbag, softly telling you its a personal Christmas gift for his most loyal supporter, telling you to open it when you're home. You thank him, pushing yourself to exchange numbers with him so you can give him feedback when you're home safe. You curse as you miss your chance to confess in the heat of the moment.

- As you return home, you pull a thin package beautifully wrapped in the little bag. You unwrap it to find a homemade mixtape, all of your favorite songs from him paired with special unreleased works that he think you would like. How he even managed to know which were your favorites shocked you honestly. As you look into the bag further a sweet handwritten note confessing his budding love for you neatly written in decorative paper falls out. Poetic words with the neatest handwriting, you could swear the paper itself was scented too. Your heart races as you listen to the CD while reading the pages of his feelings. The first thing you ever messaged him was a cute " Yone, I love you too." Which Yone has graciously screenshotted and looked back on often over the years.

---- Heartsteel / Dating ----

- You two are the loving parents of Heartsteel, the comforting consistency, the caring confidants of the group. There was just something nice about seeing Yone and his partner of almost ten years still going strong in such a stable relationship that causes all the boys to look at you with such respect. You have fun with them all, you work hard late nights supporting Yone and his work, you look out for him as he looked out for you. You were as much part of the gang as he was.

- Surprisingly Yasuo loves you just as much (platonically), he's happy to see Yone just genuinely be so at ease around you, to have someone be there for his brother that can actually make the man relax? You have his approval. After moving on and joining True Damage, Yasuo would worry seeing Yone so alone, so having you appear and provide his brother with such companionship made him happy. Though, Yasuo does tease Yone a lot, every time you meet him he always asks you if Yone has proposed. He can't understand how you two have been together so long yet not gotten married.

- Dates with Yone were always so calming. Bringing you out to hot spring inns during stressful times, inviting you to cute hidden cafes to work together, comforting jamming sessions late night at his place if money was tight. Nothing embarrassingly over to top yet not so casual that you felt like the two of you weren't doing anything special. There was just something about the way he just knows what you need. As the years went by you realized it was just how Yone was, he was an attentive guy and especially so when it came to you.

- Also it was no secret that Yone looked at self care as a priority and slowly you picked up on his little habits too. Simple yet small adjustments to your own habits. The way you two would go through the motions of burning incense and making tea early in the mornings for a quick meditation and mindfulness session. The loving way he would cook healthier meals for you, how he would be the one buying bath and beauty products, how he would motivate you to follow him to Kendo lessons to exercise, how he would leave books filled with comments on post-its around the house for you to read when you had time. The softest part was how he never seemed disappointed even if you said no to any of this, he was caring and patient after all, he'll win you over into self help eventually.

- The biggest change with the new popularity of Heartsteel was seeing the sheer number of fans Yone started to get. You almost forgot what it was like being his fangirl honestly, so used to your life with him after his semi-retirement, it was weird suddenly being thrown back to your college days of being in love with that DJ at the club. Sure things were different, you came home to him, you slept by his side every night, you heard all his music before it was released, but still... There was something about the way your heart thrums as you stand in the audience watching Yone lift his mask to throw you a charming smile. There was something about the way you knew when he laughed softly on stage, when he waves to the fans, when the crowd cheers, that the cool DJ standing up there was all yours. Oh it made you smile just as bright.

---- During Touring Season ----

- Being together for so long had its perks and its downfalls, for one, you two had a really nice house together, a place you truly called home. Little bits of Yone all around you all the time in the way the bed smelt like him, the way you see his drinks in the fridge and his things around the room. As much as it all comforts you when he is away, it all also oh so depressingly reminds you how lonely you are without him. At the least, Yone was a man of conviction and strict schedules, without fail every day at midnight where he is, when the concerts over he would always contact you somehow. Be it a call, a message, and photo. He would always make sure to send you at the very least, something, once a day. Lovingly checking in on you to make sure you were ok.

- Sure you had your own life outside of being his loving girlfriend but yet, being by Yone's side was such a commonplace that the emptiness of the house felt foreign after all these years. Yone did his best to make sure you weren't alone though, leaving little notes hidden around the house for you to find and read, leaving you a playlist to fill his study with music so you could feel like someone was still there. Of course he still called you when he could but there were other things too, like how he kept ordering meals for you, secretly asking your neighbors to keep an eye out to make sure you were safe at night, how he actually sent you postcards so you could have a physical reminder that he was thinking of you. It was all so sweet.

- If you could make it to a concert? You had the VIP treatment, he was very secretive, not really having social media, no one really knew he was in a long term relationship with you. But for Heartsteel? Everyone close to Yone knew who you were. No questions asked, a VIP pass thrust into your hands courtesy of Alune who excitedly dragged you backstage to say hi to your partner before and after the performance.

- During the actual show it was crazy, for someone whose style was so underground it was exciting and certainly different to see how wild the crowd was compared to your hazy memories of small secluded rooms in the fringes of Tokyo all those years back. Heartsteel was good for him you had to admit, seeing him on the international stage, seeing him having so much fun with the other boys, seeing the way he was just glowing with joy when people actually hollered and cheered at his beat drops. A warm bubbling feeling rises up in your chest as you see him smile the way he does around you, only this time it was on the big stage. You knew he was happy with his own small fanbase of loyal stans but you two knew better, a tiny fanbase wouldn't pay the bills, being so wildly loved, being able to make music, his passion, for work. Having so many new people hear the same style of mixing that caught your attention years back and actually love it? Heartsteel was a blessing to you both.

- When you run backstage after the performance to congratulate all the boys on the successful performance Yone stands further back. A warm smile on his face as he pulls off his mask to watch you hug and high five everyone else, a mix of feelings as he watches you talk to his bandmate. As the initial greetings pass, you finally walk up to him, everyone leaving to settle their own post performance maintenance. For Yone, that was a little habit of searching for you and reaching out to pull you into a hug. A habit that he once had all those years back, the nostalgia after every performance always hitting him so hard his usually calm and cool demeanor would crack. The lightest tinge of a blush could be seen rising up to his ears as he finally makes eye contact with you. Slowly he walks over, a hand reaching out to beckon you to come over and hold him.

" You were amazing up on stage, I almost forgot how charming you always looked in the DJ booth."

" And I almost forgot how exciting it was to search for you cheering for me in the crowd. Especially when the crowd is that big."

Yone laughs softly. A deep melodic noise that sends shivers down your spine. Oh the way the corners of his lips curl up, his sparkling emerald eyes gaze down at you. His right hand reaching up, the back of his fingers lightly brushing over your cheeks, pushing your hair back behind your ears.

" Just like old times my love?"

" Just like old times Yone."

Carefully, doing his best to make sure his hair doesn't tickle you, the same hand that pushed your hair back now rises to hold his own messy fringe up as he leans down. Gently, just like always. His lips press against yours. Nothing too affectionate, you two were still in public after all, but still you could feel it, the way the softest kiss from your lover fills your chest with such overwhelming love. As you pull back you look up to see a smile so bright that it causes his eyes to close. Ah, you were truly loved.

#THIS WAS EXCITING i cried a little writing it cos a man this perfect doesnt exist #Yone #Yone x Reader #Heartsteel!Yone #HEADCANONS #SCENARIOS #Half half?#anon answer #YONE IS SO....UGH. he would take care of you oh so well.....................my heart..............it flutters............#Yone League of Legends #Yone LoL #Yone Heartsteel #man would bring you to pottery class and then actively use whatever you make #I hope you love this cos I SURE LOVED WRITING IT...........

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keystonepublishing · 8 months

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We Have Eldritch Horror at Home by WinterEnchantress

Have you ever embarked on a new project and thought, "well, this shall be easy-peasy!". But then you start to think about sprucing up the text and placing thematic imagery and two weeks later you are screaming, "OH MY LORD WHAT AM I GETTING MYSELF INTO."

Hi there. It's me.

After my previous original fiction binds, I wanted to dip back into fandom via a small bookbind and this fic has been on my list for quite some time now: We Have Eldritch Horror at Home by WinterEnchantress. I genuinely tried to dial down on my experimentation on this project - I initially wanted to wrap the covers in my usual wrapping paper, but then decided "NAH. WINGS WINGS WINGS!!!"

As is my style, I decided to use marbled and patterned designs as endpapers and story/information dividers. I also continued the use of images to set the mood and tone at the beginning and end of the fic. Since the front and back covers are practically bedecked with wings, I decided to experiment: can I place a title strip across an endpaper and make it look good?

Turns out, yeah!

The wings are some of the harder parts to place. Given the rise and fall of the story's moods, and the few chapters that are interludes from different perspectives, I decided to go for different wing designs according to perspective shifts.

The wing images are nabbed from Google and layered over one another to give more impact. Most of the fic deals with Jimmy and others' reactions to him, so such chapters have wings that look like paint strokes. Chapters that have Grian as the main perspective have wing designs with more detail.

The last chapter was special as it deals with self-acceptance, and so I wanted to show that in full by going for a double-page spread of Jimmy's wings. I want to make them look like they're coming out from his back and shoulder blades - if you look at that section from afar, it almost looks like so!

This fic also marks the first time I did any typesetting of eldritch Zalgo text! I want to heighten the sense of awe whenever they were used in-fic, so I purposefully enlarged, colored, and overlapped Zalgo words to convey the 'eldritch-ness' of speech. Meanwhile, the opposite pages have less dialogue and more empty space to balance the effect.

Think of it as having the listeners having room to breathe in awe after seeing and hearing those words.

And as previous binds, I added a comments and notes section to preserve reader reactions and discussions to this fic. Some of them are interesting to read in their own right and the reactions overall paint a good picture of the how people enjoyed and thought about the fic, the author, and the Solidaritek pairing.

All in all, this work took me a surprising amount of time! Almost a month! And I have to say it isn't my better works - despite my liking for the typesetting, chapter headings, and imagery, I also did not center the spine-title enough and the covers are actually quite blotchy and sticky from improper application of varnish. But as it is, I still enjoyed the overall process.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #my bookbinds #solidaritek #team rancher #Jimmy Solidarity #SolidarityGaming #TangoTek #MCYT #Rancher Duo #team ranchers

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standfucker · 1 year

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Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Smoker + Ace)

Feeling very stuck with my WIPS lately, so I decided to try my hand at a bullet-point style drabble. Ace’s and Smoker’s went fine, but Crocodile’s and Kuzan’s immediately grew into something too big for a bullet point list and will be posted separately, if I can get them to a point I’m happy with. Have these two for now.

CW: Just a little bit of violence

Ao3 Link

Smoker

You’ve been rising quickly through the ranks. Smoker’s heard that you’re strong, but by the time you get assigned to him, he has yet to see it for himself.

You’ve followed all of his orders thus far, and past reports on your behavior are generally positive, so when you block him from chasing a pirate one day, he’s taken by surprise.

“This one’s innocent. I saw it for myself. He’s trying to support the village.” You get into stance, eyes blazing with defiance, fully ready to take on your captain.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Smoker says. “He’s still a pirate.”

“He only stole from nobles. People who wouldn’t miss the wealth. It makes every difference.”

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

He turns into smoke to go around you, but you grab at where his ankle would be, your haki forcing his body back into shape, and swing him into the ground with such force that stars dot his vision as the wind is knocked out of him.

No one told him you could use armament haki.

“I’m stronger than you. Don’t get a big head because you’re my superior. I’ll surpass you soon.”

“I could have you court-martialed for this,” he gasps.

“Then do it. See if I care. That person was innocent–I know I did the right thing. I don’t give a shit about your opinion,” you pause, then add, “Captain.”

You crouch next to him as he struggles to sit up, still dizzy from the brutal impact. Picking up his cigars that have fallen, you dust them off before sticking one back in his mouth and putting the other in yours. You take an experimental puff, wrinkle your nose at the taste, and deftly twirl the cigar between your fingers. He finds himself staring as you exhale, smoke curling around your profile.

“I requested to be transferred to your unit because Tashigi told me you were different from the others,” you say, and pop the second cigar into his mouth as well. “So don’t disappoint me, Captain.”

The blush on his face is from indignation, or that’s what he tells himself. It’s the audacity. You have some nerve to talk to him that way. To lay your hands on a superior, to obstruct the law.

And yet. He shouldn’t, but a part of him–a big part of him–can’t help but admire your conviction. Enough so that he doesn’t report your insubordination.

It’s always refreshing to find a soldier who thinks for themselves, but it’s also dangerous if you cross the wrong superiors. (God forbid you talk back to someone like Akainu, which Smoker knows you would do without hesitation.)

Smoker will have to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of…

Ace

One day, Ace realizes that in all the months since he’s officially joined the crew, he’s never seen you fight, not even to spar.

When he asks Marco about it, he says, “Oh, that’s because of the collateral damage, yoi.” Ace thinks Marco is joking and laughs. Marco does not.

But can you blame Ace? You’re one of the gentlest pirates in the fleet. You’re the kind of person who stops crewmates from squishing bugs, and who’s so stricken by the dead dogs at the end of your novels that you cry for days afterward (getting to hold you when you seek him out for comfort rules, but why you keep reading those, he does not know.)

After a battle with an enemy crew, one in which you don’t participate, Ace asks some crewmates why you abstained.

“Same reason Pops doesn’t join the small fights,” Haruta says. “Too messy, you know?”

“Wait, just how strong is Y/n?” Ace says, now realizing Marco was being serious earlier.

“Don’t worry about it, Ace,” you say behind him, making him jump. “Just know I’m stronger than you.”

That stings his pride, enough so that he challenges you to a friendly match while crewmates exchange glances.

“Sure, after you’ve rested from this fight. I’d hate to have a handicap.”

“I’m not tired! I can take you right here, right now.”

“Right now?” At Ace’s nod, you shrug. “Well, okay then. Here I go!”

You vanish.

He can’t sense you anywhere. By the time he figures out you’re behind him, it’s too late. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his pants. When he can’t escape by turning into flames, he knows you’re using haki.

You proceed to slam him face-first into the deck so hard he breaks straight through it, stuck upside down in the wood. The crewmates on the floor below blink up at him.

“You challenged Y/n, didn’t you,” one of them says.

Once his head stops swimming, Ace pulls himself out. His nose is broken and bleeding and he’s covered in scratches and splinters, but he’s looking at you with a newfound sense of awe.

“Logia types,” you shake your head, lip curling, “always so full of themselves.” Then you look stricken. “Oh, I hurt Moby again... Pops will scold me…”

And, look.

Ace knows what he likes. He’s not ashamed to say he found the whole thing extremely hot, but he has the decency to keep it to himself. (Literally the entire crew could tell, but no one tells Ace that either.)

He can’t stop thinking about the fight (if it could even be called that.) He stays awake at night, picturing the way your mouth moved when you said ‘Logia types,’ the little smirk afterward. He had always liked you, but now there’s a newfound aspect to his attraction, and he’s down bad.

Ace wants to know even more about you after that, asking you about your history and how you learned to fight. Luckily, you don’t mind the attention, and your humoring him feeds into his ego until he’s practically following you around in his free time. The rest of the crew takes notice, teasing him about being your shadow–but you never complain, so why should he care?

You've been spending lots of time together since then. He keeps fantasizing about saying “my partner can kick your ass” to people, but he hasn’t actually asked you out yet. It’s unlike him to be so gun-shy, yet every time he works up the nerve to ask, he only gets as far as “Hey, Y/n?” before your sparkly-eyed, saccharine “Yes, Ace?” crumbles his confidence to dust. But he’s Fire-Fist Ace, damn it! He faced Pops alone to save his crew, so why is this so difficult?

If he asks the other Division Commanders for help, expect a Looney Tunes style sequence of each one suggesting a courting method and it failing spectacularly and going up in literal flames, until he finally gets so frustrated with the whole thing he ends up just shouting his confession.

Bonus:

“There, there,” Ace says, patting your back while you cling to him and sob into his shoulder. “It’s just a stupid book.”

That was the wrong thing to say. With your emotions already running high, your misery shifts to rage in an instant.

“YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND THE BOND BETWEEN A KID AND THEIR DOG BECAUSE YOU ATE EVERY ANIMAL YOU ENCOUNTERED GROWING UP!!” you wail, then hiccup, sob, and bury your face into his chest.

Ace wisely decides not to point out the food scarcity of his home island. There are better times, and at least you’re holding him tight...

#one piece imagines #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #smoker x reader #smoker one piece #portgas d ace #one piece x reader #zen writes

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