#✦✧ amazon eve // muse ✧✦

[joyfulmagic]

Muse List

[Updated 08/12/2024]

Blue muses are primary Red muses are secondary Pink muses are by request only

Superhero/Spy/Marvel/DC-Based:

Harley Quinn circa the Harley Quinn cartoon, The Suicide Squad, and Birds of Prey —> FC: Ma.rgot Ro.bbie Poison Ivy circa the Harley Quinn cartoon, and other various inspiration —> FC: J.essica Cha.stain Steven Grant Rogers circa Marvel/MCU —> FC: Ch.ris Ev.ans Clark Kent circa My Adventures With Superman —> FC: H.enry Ca.vill Diana Prince circa multiple media and headcanons —> FC: M.ay Calma.wy Atom Eve circa Amazon Prime’s Invincible —> FC: Ab.igail Co.wen

[Illya Kuryakin - Canon Divergent from The Man From Uncle 2015 with heavy MCU/616 influences]

[James “Bucky” Barnes - MCU + 616 Mix]

[Arina Bondar- MCU/616 + TMFU (2015) OC]

[Adeliana Bondar-Kuryakin - MCU/616 + TMFU (2015) OC]

Fantasy-Based:

[Farah - The Tower]

[Theodore - The Devil]

[Vasily - The Emperor]

[Jane - High Priestess]

[Rosie - Justice]

[Relta - The Empress]

[Aislin - The World]

[Keife - The Hanged Man] Disne.y/Fairytale/Folklore Based: 1. Hercules (Hercules 1997) —> Sa.m Heu.gan & Hen.ry Ca.vill fcs 2. Flynn Rider (Tangled 2010) —> Seb.astian St.an 3. Dmitri (Anastasia 1997) —> De.rek K.lena - Megara (Disney’s Hercules 1997) —> Elizabeth Gilles - Sir Guy of Gisborne (BBC’s Robin Hood 2006-09) —> Richard Armitage

Mythology: [Lord Ares — FC Lee Pace / Richard Amirtage ]

[Queen Persephone — FC Charlotte Hope] [ Only shipped with King Hades]

[Queen Hera — FC Simone Ashley] [Only shipped with King Zeus]

[Lord Apollon — FC Chris Evans]

[King Hades — FC Keanu Reeves ] [Lady Aphrodite — FC Keira Knightley] [Freyja — FC Freya Mavor]

History/HOTD/ASOIAF/Medieval-Based:

[Catherine of Aragon’s Muse Bio & Verses] [Henry VIII — Verses & Bio]

[Mary I’s Muse Bio & Verses]

[Relta’s historical verses] * [Prince Alastair] * [Lady/Princess Madeline] *

[Lady Marguerite of Gisborne — BBC’S Robin Hood / Sherwood OC]

[Maid Marian of Knighton — BBC’s Robin Hood / Sherwood] * [Lady Jane Grey — Amazon’s My Lady Jane] * = modern verses available

[for-yoongi0309]

지민 (Jimin) 'MUSE' Release

♡ US shop | Target | Barnes&Noble | Walmart | Amazon

♡ 멜론 | 지니 | VIBE | FLO | 벅스

♡ Ktown4u | Cokodive | Kpopusa | YesAsia | Eve pink shop

♡ Sub K | Music Plaza | Makestar | Musicndrama

♡ Apple Music | Jump Up Ent | Synnara | Soundwave

[cloudyyoungjaes]

I have no clue what despairing vacation is about- but I saw you reblogged that one post again and I'd love to hear about it! And why you made the decisions you did! 🥰

Rubs hands together oh boy.

(Mentions of cannibalism and decapitation)

So despairing vacation (DV) was a multi fandom roleplay group that was based on danganronpa. So basically a killing game rp. We ended our last iteration like two-ish weeks ago? Around that time with Despairing Vacation 4.

I joined in Despairing Vacation 1.5, which in the timeline it took place in between the first game and second lmao (though it took place after 2 happened in reality). I brought in Ahn because at the time my ass was obsessed with He is Psychometric and I love Ahn like a son. So naturally I chucked him in there and he got scars around his right wrist and more trauma than he had before the game started. I also uhhh fucked up his canon beyond recognition lol. (I’ll probably post his carrd here later—). Out of the three muses I have played in DV, he’s the only survivor. Because of this he can’t wear bracelets anymore lol. He still has his psychometric powers but it comes at a greater cost for him. He’s also the only kdrama character in despairing vacation lol.

For Sento…I was pretty obsessed with Kamen Rider Build and I related hard to Sento in terms of some of his underlying issues so I played him! I think originally I was going to play Gaon devil judge, Peter Stone law and order, Kiriya exaid, or taiga ex aid but I like Sento :). As to why he died: he was pulled for culprit so the people just scrambled to do smth and it was around the time that he returned to his original identity of Takumi. Sento (as Takumi) killed Shadow the Hedgehog by biting his neck off and as a result Sento (takumi) got executed. Sento basically had to pay for Takumi’s crimes (I’ll link his execution here lmao. Maybe). He a ghost now living in an Eyecon that takeru gave him lol. I miss him :(. I Also fucked up his canon by making the amnesia permanent. I’ll probably post the link to his execution. Maybe. Fun fact: I wrote it during the trial jfnsksnsjsnoasmks

As for Nitoh…I was still torn about who to bring; I think this time I was tempted to bring Gaon (again), Shen Wei, Tokatti toqger, Noel lupat…and then I said to Jason ( @/gameraramen) ‘hey wouldn’t it be funny if I brought in Nitoh wizard and tossed him in as victim?’ Because in Despairing Vacation he and Haruto are married and I thought ‘hey wouldn’t it be funny—‘. The decapitation was gale’s (@/galeforcewings (I think that’s gale’s tumblr)) idea because he wanted decap meanwhile the cannibalism was gonna be there because Jason’s character Chidori persona 3 has kamen rider Amazons’ lore in there. The only thing was that Nitoh’s housemate Mike ensemble stars was also picked to be victim so naturally it was a double murder and ah ha. Nitoh’s death was one of the darkest because you may not see it in the crime scene photo. But he doesn’t rlly have much of his body left + his head was on a serving plate. Tbh it was my only chance to be victim so I said ‘fuck it make it dark’ and at first we weren’t sure if the mods would let us (they came in and said ‘make it worse’). The chapter name in the murder server is called ‘women moments (gone wrong)’ because at the time Chidori was ‘dating’ Eve moonlit evilous and :miku: women moments.

God I hope all of it made some sense fjsnskskksksns

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 17:

season 5, episode 1, “Muse”:

note: this episode deals with some really dark topics; i don’t really get into it in this post but be wary of the content

- okay season 5‼️‼️

- let’s get gay

- this guy seems a little young to be a professor

- oh he isn’t a professor he’s just some guy

- i want to live in a windmill tbh

- strange playing the trombone agenda!

- pause did morse not move to london?

- me when i have no clue what’s going on

- DETECTIVE SERGEANT?????? ULTIMATE PAUSE

- HE PASSED HIS SERGEANTS

- shit i guess he stayed

- living with strange! besties 4 lyfe

- these umbrellas are doing nothing to keep them dry

- the way debryn is giving his analysis directly to morse 🥰🥰🥰

- bro knows morse is the only one who’s gonna pay attention tbh

- about WHAT morse situation 🤨🤨🤨🤨

- i love frazil she’s always rooting for morse

- hello who tf is that

- george fancy

- WAIT

- i cant experience the george fancy story again.

- can’t handle it.

- “i’m used to working alone, sir.”

- no ur not morse u just miss jakes

- WHAT. SITUATION.

- oh

- okay

- so they’re just not gonna move him 🙄

- made me panic for no good damn reason

- morse is so disrespectful to fancy and for what

- “what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” “my job.” 😐

- i forgot i also hated fancy for a long time

- morse was right ‼️

- “hard to get, eh?” why don’t you! shut your mouth!

- “you have no idea.” “i like a challenge.”

- WHY DONT YOU! shut up ❤️

- in fairness morse was really upfront with george about his expectations so after a certain point it’s george’s fault for being a dumbass and annoying him

- that’s just me tho!

- okay ew i did not need to see debryn pull that spike out of the dudes ear

- i am experiencing debilitating heart burn right now i think im gonna die

- anywho

- thursday just roasting the shit out of nero while morse stands there like 😮

- JOAN ‼️‼️‼️

- omg she’s back

- morse is so awkward 🙄

- morse is just… drinking milk. just a glass of milk. like 🥛. im disgusted

- ayo

- body took me by surprise to say the least

- morse is getting awfully comfortable looking at dead people

- i feel like fancy is already a lot like jakes and that’s what’s irritating morse

- he keeps asking questions the same way jakes did

- it’s different though because fancy is asking because hes ignorant, not because he’s challenging morse

- and morse is irritated because jakes was an intellectual challenge

- he had to be certain before presenting anything to jakes because jakes would ask questions to force him to prove it or think it through all the way

- fancy isn’t challenging him intellectually even though he’s taking jakes’ spot

- and morse doesn’t want a replacement he just wants jakes

- ykwim??????????????

- great!

- moving on

- “dipped his quill in any ink pot.”

- bro was a whore

- i’m also assuming he was a lil…. fruity

- but don’t ask me for proof! i operate on vibes and vibes alone

- the way i thought that glider was small 💀💀

- it was literally carrying around an entire human being

- “i don’t think she likes men.” “maybe it’s just you she doesn’t like.”

- morse is SO catty i love him

- he clocked that guy as a scumbag and just ran w it

- IM DYING at morse saying what shade the lipstick is and debryn instantly knowing the line it’s from

- that’s a little 💅

- i’m just saying

- for this time period?

- also the silence after he says it 💀

- and morse just carries on 💀

- i love debryn

- george is doing his best tho

- morse just misses jakes and doesn’t want someone else hanging around and i’m SICK OVER IT

- morse watched that entire strip show and for what 😐

- you could have just gone straight to the dressing room babes

- the way he doesn’t check her out ONCE when she stands up

- respect 😔✊

- i’m watching this on amazon and the amount of times the captioning has said [inaudible] is killing me

- AYO eve is gorgeous

- i know that’s the point but like goddam 😭

- “he’d seen me dancing.” “stripping.”

- morse ur being annoying

- they’re dancers whether or not they take clothes off and ur stripping them of their dignity by belittling their careers

- there’s 0 reason to slut shame them for dancing even if it is stripping

- don’t be a dick ‼️

- naur why was morse the one to uncover the body 🥺

- i literally hate him and then immediately feel terrible for him and love him again 🙄

- i’m weak what can i say

- the way morse looks at trewlove during the interrogation and she’s just like 😳

- girl didn’t want to know a singular thing about morse’s sex life

- straight up trapped

- i’m honestly confused how fancy forgot to get the contents booked

- like you went to do it right away

- did you just?? stop? doing it???

- and then morse just covers for him to thursday to keep him in everyone’s good graces

- he’s sooooooo

- ugh.

- if there’s an opportunity to be self sacrificing he’s gonna take it and i hate it

- because being self sacrificing IS the example he sets fancy

- and we all know how that ends up

- i love it when morse is alone in the nick and opera music is playing

- it makes me think that it’s playing in his mind

- like he is constantly hearing opera when he’s working even if it’s not playing

- he’s just hearing it

- i love it

- a touch of the tism perhaps…

- ^me projecting

- that student that morse keeps talking to about the life model? the one w the blonde fringe? yeah! he’s gay.

- once again, no proof. vibes and vibes alone!

- GO CASS GO!

- out ur husband as a con artist!

- werk

- ooo dr croxley is gay for sure

- i’m so low on actual queer content from this show rn i’m just assuming every single side character is gay

- “i beg your pardon?” “you can beg my fat ass!”

- ROAST HIM FRED!!

- get his ass

- thursday has absolutely zero reservations about this shit i love him

- this is reminding me of the riot club tbh

- idk if any of you have seen that movie but the group of men behave just like the riot club

- morse giving a theory out and then bright going “and the rest?” and him being like 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ is SO REAL

- some of these episodes have so many characters, and i am so bad with names, i’ll get to the like one hour mark and have no idea who anyone is talking about anymore

- joan and thursday speaking for the first time in like a year is… hmmm

- she used to be such a daddy’s girl and now she hates his guts i am WRECKED

- dhmu 😔💔

- “that was quick.” “you asked for it.” “you’re a good sergeant, jim. good man, too.”

- you tell him thursday!

- me when i’m a jim strange STAN

- i’m nervous why is the music so scary

- oh literally nothing happened

- she just invited him inside

- he’s gonna sleep w her huh? 🙄

- he’s a slut

- i read the books! i know!

- “save it for your clients. i’m immune.”

- first of all, morse, we ALL KNOW that that isn’t true 🤨 no need to lie 😐

- “you’ve got need coming off you like a junkie gouging for a spike, but you won’t do anything about it.”

- this line is ABSOLUTELY INSANE i’m going feral

- like why would you say that 😭😭😭😭

- oh my god his face while she’s offering herself to him is so 😧

- i can’t do this tonight ✋😁

- the way he backs away from her when he starts to figure her out

- he’s so scared

- all the time!

- i hate it here

- sidebar:

- this is literally the plot of the riot club

- like what happened to the women and how the men behave and the fact that the men were scholars and it’s an elite group and they all call each other by different names

- it’s literally the riot club

- a movie i HATED and did not finish btw

- this is open riot club slander that movie was terrible

- feel free to watch it if you don’t believe me tho!

- but anyways this feels like the aftermath of that movie

- these girls are right and should be allowed to get away with it tho

- morse should have just pretended to never figure it out and let her get away with it

- i erased this episode from my memory this shit is so hard to watch

- justice for ruth astor.

- i’m sobbing my eyes out right now! literally sobbing.

- morse slut shames these girls the entire episode and then feels terrible at the end as he fucking should

- i hate men.

- just throwing in the death of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at the end????

- like hello?

- idk if that’s supposed to feel random but it certainly does

- ok that episode traumatized me

- on to the next!

[dollycas]

Cayman Conundrum: A Liz Adams Mystery by Stacy Wilder #Spotlight / #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour @authorstacywilder @wilderstacy

Cayman Conundrum: A Liz Adams Mystery by Stacy Wilder It is my pleasure to shine the spotlight on Cayman Conundrum: A Liz Adams Mystery by Stacy Wilder today! About Cayman Conundrum Cayman Conundrum: A Liz Adams Mystery Cozy M 4th in Series Setting - Grand Cayman Publisher ‏ : ‎ Wild Hawk Press (June 29, 2024) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 225 pages ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8990783102 Paperback ‏ : ‎ 225 pages ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8985426694 Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0D8G8NJ2Z Audiobook ASIN B0D5KPSC6M Sun-kissed sands and sinister secrets. A honeymoon in paradise turns perilous in this riveting seaside mystery. A tropical vacation transforms into a web of danger and deception when an author and his manuscript vanish. Is his thriller about money laundering in the Caribbean too close to the truth? With the stakes high and time ticking, Private Investigator Liz Adams and her new husband, Brad, along with their truth-sniffing Labrador, Duke, partner with the local authorities to unravel a multitude of crimes. As they search for clues, the newlyweds explore the delights of the island, including a hunt for buried treasure. Will they unearth the clues in time, or will the honeymoon end in heartbreak? Set against the backdrop of the stunning island of Grand Cayman, this cozy mystery will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end. Great Escapes Praise for Cayman Conundrum: A Liz Adams Mystery by Stacy Wilder Being the dog lover I am I admit that sometimes I decide to read a book solely based on its cover. I’m here to report that in addition to a great cover, this was an excellent, page-turning mystery. ~Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books About Stacy Wilder  Stacy Wilder writes mysteries, children’s stories, short stories, and poetry. Her mission is to deliver a delightful story to readers of all ages while benefiting a larger community. She donates a portion of the proceeds from the sales of her books to causes that help the homeless, both people and pets. Beyond writing, Stacy is deeply devoted to her faith, family, and her beloved Labradors. She is also enthusiastic about the causes she supports, the beauty of art, the serenity of the beach, and the joy of reading. She and her husband live in Houston, TX with a totally spoiled Labrador named Eve. www.storystacy.com Author Links Webpage  Facebook     Instagram     GoodReads     BookBub Purchase Links Amazon - B&N - Kobo - Bookshop.org  TOUR PARTICIPANTS - Please visit all the stops. August 19 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT August 20 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT August 21 – Sarah Can't Stop Reading Books – REVIEW August 22 – Christy's Cozy Corners – PLAYLIST August 23 – The Plain-Spoken Pen – REVIEW August 24 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT August 25 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT August 26 – Celticlady's Reviews – RECIPE August 27 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR INTERVIEW August 28 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT August 29 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT August 30 – Sneaky the Library Cat's blog – CHARACTER INTERVIEW August 31 – Cassidy's Bookshelves – REVIEW September 1 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT a Rafflecopter giveaway Have you signed up to be a Tour Host? Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today! Want to Book a Tour? Click Here Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Read the full article

[unravelingthepages]

The Voice In All- Book Review

Hi! The Voice In All by Audrey Auden is the first book in the series The Artifex And The Muse that I recently finished. I enjoyed reading it, I would say it's great for 13 year olds and above.

The Plot

Sixteen-year-old thief Ava must set sail for the new world tonight to escape the life of servitude that awaits every child who comes of age in the temple city. All that stands between her and a life of freedom is one last job: stealing the pharmaka to pay for her passage west. She’s stolen from the mysterious priestesses countless times before. What could possibly go wrong? On the other side of the temple city, sixteen-year-old field hand Dom bids a final farewell to the only home he’s ever known. The priestesses have promised he’ll find purpose in the life of hard labor that lies ahead of him, and he hopes they’re right. What other choice does he have? When Ava’s path collides with Dom’s in the dark forest, they discover the stolen pharmaka has some unfortunate side effects. Like it or not, Dom and Ava are stuck with each other. But what possible future could exist for a girl who’s determined to escape her bondage and a boy who’s never imagined the possibility of freedom? On the eve of their Calling Day, Dom and Ava’s first meeting sets in motion an adventure of mythic proportions, spanning millennia and bridging worlds.

Book Review-

This is a character driven book set in a fantasy world with a concept I haven't read often. It mixes brainwashing with a world where women are the superiors and adds a certain soul bond aspect in a form of an herb (??) 'pharmaka'. So, all-in-all, it's a concept that's intriguing and great to get engrossed in. Oh, and there's childhood friends to lovers.

This book is simple yet heavy on the imagery giving you a clear vision of the setting of the book while keeping the language simple and concise. If you look past the initial meanings in a few instances, you can see the symbolic layer in the story which makes you want to re-read the book.

There's still a lot of world building, character development and loose ends that need answers, all of which I look forward to reading about in the next book of the series!

Thank you to bookinfluencers.com and the author for my free e-book of this read.

In order to keep me up to my ears in books please consider using the following amazon affiliate link to purchase this read. It would be at no extra cost to you and would really help me out, thank you!

purchase this read: https://amzn.to/3FXsQex

the three phases of a reader:

1) the reading five books a week manic phase; 2) obsessively reading fanfiction era; and 3) the dreaded reading slump

[feelfear]

@huntedvideo​ // sc // not ready to make nice by dixie chicks

          “It's a sad, sad story when a mother will teach her daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger.”

[horrificks-a]

tag dump

[gettingrarer-blog]

amazon eve aesthetic 1/?

[angelisverba]

come out, come out wherever you are

in which y/n agrees to do something really stupid, and harry is a bit of a shit

word count: 5k

pairing: vampire!h and y/n (different au from my other vamp!h fics, though)

warnings: drug use, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of blood (duh, he’s a vampire). 

author’s note: okay so i know that i put vampire!h in the pairing, but this h is a wierd succubus x demon x vampire mix where he can feed off the emotions he wants to?? i’ll explain it in the story. enjoy your reading :)

She shouldn’t have agreed to play hide and seek in a cornfield.

At night.

During a full moon. 

On Halloween.

Y/n’s logic always disappeared when she was… under the influence. Whether that be with alcohol or other sorts of… fun substances. That was not to say that she was an alcoholic, or a drug addict, she just… hated to be a party popper. When her roommate invited her to college parties, she didn’t say no to the red solo cup because she knew that some way or another, she would end up giving in by the end of the night. Or when it was just her and her closest friends passing around  a freshly rolled joint, she didn’t say no because she didn’t want to be the odd one out.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that she enjoyed it… most of the time. 

This? This was not one of those times.

*    *    *    *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Josephine, her roommate, had barged into her room with a smile over her lips as the brightness of her phone lit up her face from the bottom up, casting spooky shadows since y/n’s room was dark and she was falling asleep. 

“Y/n, look!” She said, turning the phone so beams that felt like they came from hell illuminated y/n’s pinched face, marks from her pillow decorating the place above her lip. She mumbled something, and Josephine kept speaking, “Travis just sent me an invitation to one of the frat’s Halloween parties! Come with me, it’s gonna be so much fun!”

And to get her to leave her room, she agreed. She must have, because the next morning as she was getting ready for her 10 a.m. literature class, she was bombarded with a series of costume ideas and questions about what was considered cheesy or overdone. Josephine had made it clear that it was okay that they didn’t match, especially because of their differences in clothing choices. Jo was more risqué, and y/n liked to dress in what she felt comfortable in. 

It didn’t take her a long time to figure out what she was going to go as for Halloween. That same morning, just before she walked into class, y/n stopped to stare at a framed art print in the hallway. 

La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats was a poem that she knew by heart, and the painting was one that she could get lost in for hours. Stopping to stare at it before walking into class was not an unusual occurrence for her, but that time an idea came to her, almost like it was written in the long locks of her red hair. 

Y/n would go as a Victorian princess. The dresses had always fascinated her, with the intricate lace details and elegant rippled of muslin fabric that flounced in a puff around the hips of Countess, or trailed behind the average cottage girl as she frolicked in fields full of daisies. She could picture it in her mind, and it made her giddy to know that there was a possibility she could look as pretty as one of the poet’s muses. She spent the entirety of the class switching from writing notes to browsing the five pages worth of gowns on Amazon, looking for something pretty yet within her price range. 

By the end of the period she’d had what she wanted in her cart. A baby-blue wisp of a dress with intricate lace detailing at the neckline that curved like the top-hald of a heart to cup her breasts. The sleeves bunched around her arms mid-bicep, and scrunched again around her wrists, the transparent fabric looking as if her arms were wrapped in the sky. Built in ribbing created a corset that added an extra curve to her waist to make way for the heaps of fabric that exploded from her hips and cascaded down to the floor like the foaming spray of a waterfall. 

It fit like a dream. When it arrived a few days before the party she dropped everything she was doing to try it on. The moment Josephine patted her shoulder to tell her that she was finished zipping up the back, y/n twirled around in the limited space of their dorm room to see herself in the narrow mirror at the end of her bed. 

Every penny she had spent on it was worth it. Sure, it was snug around the bust and refrained her lungs from expanding the extra millimeter they needed, but it made her feel… nice. Pretty. She liked the way it cinched her waist, how her wrists looked dainty covered in the lacy ends of the sleeves, and the way her breasts looked… accentuated by the frilly detail. 

Jo had squealed once she had a full look at her friend, and wouldn’t stop talking about how good they were going to look walking in together. She was going as Cat-Woman, complete with the latex suit, boots, mask, and all. She looked every bit as fantastic as y/n, only on opposite ends of the Halloween costume spectrum. 

Building up to the day of the party, the pair talked make-up and hair details, both of which Josephine would be taking care of because she was better at them. At one point, y/n thinks she even dreamt about making a grand-entrance, boys and girls gawking at how amazing she looked, and the most handsome guy stepping forth to profess his undying love for her. 

Which wasn't really how it went the night of, but she attained the same satisfaction. 

The party was located a little ways away from the city, at a plantation-style frat house in-front of a huge cornfield. Carved pumpkins with candles illuminating them from the inside out lined the pathway up to the front-doors, the trees nearby created crunchy pathways of orange and yellow leaves, and the moon was out; yawning tiredly, but glowing an eerie yellow color over the scene. 

It looked like the opening scene of a horror film. 

Y/n did receive a lot of stares, though. Most of them were from guys whose beady little eyes pointed straight to her chest, and the ones she got from girls were on the nastier side of envy. She could tell. But, oddly enough, she liked the attention. 

Josephine y/n’s hand and led her through the mass of costumed-bodies. There was a variety of ‘sexy’ professions (the usual: nurses, cops, cowgirls, and school girls) and those that come from fandoms (Hogwarts’s students, Eleven from Stranger Things, Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, multiple heroes from the Avengers) or those that came for shits and giggles (T-rex blow-up costumes with tiny hands, Joe Exotic, sumo-wrestlers, those things that sway outside car-dealerships, and even a Trojan condom packet). There was a lot to see, and honestly, it was beginning to overwhelm y/n.

Not only was it slightly disorienting to see everyone disguised, the interior itself was something to look at. Chandeliers and velvet sofas, gold lamps and fancy carpets and curtains. The epitome of privilege. She felt trampled, every once a while there was a tug on the ends of her dress. 

“How about a shot to start off the night, y/n?” Josephine asked her, hooking a latex coated arm around hers. The music was a rumble on the backs of their heads, shaking them through and through as some nameless rapper sang of drugs, sex, and money. What it always came down to. 

She agreed, and took the plastic shot cup. On normal nights, she would’ve usually required some type of coaxing, but not then. Y/n was almost looking for the hangover the next morning. She wanted fun. 

Three shots later and her fingers were dragging in front of her face. Her knees were wobbly and cheeks tinged with spirits. Everything was funny and if you asked her what two plus two was she’d tell you five. There was a new swagger in her step, and some might say that was the influenced hand-eye coordination, but to her it was newfound confidence. She felt good, she looked good, and she was having a damn good time. Laughing, making the best conversation she’d ever made, and when Jo suggested they go dance, she danced the best she’d ever had.

And sure, she was drunk out of her mind. A light weight. Everything was under a glamourized rose filter. It only made sense that the crowd parted like the Red Sea at God’s feet. 

Y/n’s lungs stopped working the moment her eyes locked with his. 

He was her counterpart. Literally. 

Dressed in a navy blue Victorian prince’s suit decked in gold trim and gold medals pinned to the breast. The tan pants that hugged his muscular thighs like they were made just for him, and his hair was slicked back. Jaw a sharp, smug line that worked as he popped a piece of pink bubblegum between his molars. A gleam of appreciation sparking in the forest of his eyes as they raked a path on her figure.  

It was like the work around them stopped, put on pause by some higher power so they could relish the moment of their discovery. What was that shit called? Divine Intervention? The millisecond before and after and between the time Eve’s teeth sunk into the taught skin of that forbidden red apple, and the snake’s tongue slithered out to see her. He was a stranger to y/n, but it seemed as if the feeling he stirred deep in the core of her being was one she’d always known, one from a past life. Besides her, Jo stopped doing whatever lucrative dance she was doing to see what had caught her friend’s attention. Y/n stood, tongue dry, feet glued to the ground as the handsome stranger approached her, a clear path in front of him. 

Then, he takes one step  forward and whatever conversation he had been involved with before was no longer of importance. Besides her, Jo stopped doing whatever lucrative dance she was doing to see what had caught her friend’s attention. Y/n stood, tongue dry, feet glued to the ground as the handsome stranger approached her, a clear path in front of him. 

“Oh,” Jo huffed in her ear, “he’s hot.”

“I-Is he?...” Y/n’s question died on her tongue.

“Coming right for you, girl. Good luck,” Jo pressed a kiss to her cheek and disappeared in the crowd. 

The stranger stops closer than she would have thought him to; a finger away from her nose, and when he spoke, she could feel the vibrations of his speech through her breasts where they nearly grazed his chest. 

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met before... princess?” His voice is deep, raspy and filled with grooves like the bark on a tree. He mocks a bow (given their costumes) and their nose touch before he straightens again. Up close, y/n can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and she hopes her mouth doesn’t stink (it probably does, given the alcohol she’d had). A chilled palm grips her bicep, and the fabric of her sleeve sinks under his touch, “Would you like to get off this shitty dance floor and speak somewhere else?” He asks her. 

Her heart is pounding and she wonders if he can hear it because she certainly can, rushing in a taunting, roaring stream past her eardrums. Y/n nodded her agreement; yes, she did want to speak with him. A thrum of warmth comes from where he holds her, and he tugs her so that she’s standing in front of him, her back touching his chest as he pushes her through the crowd. 

Her fingers shake as she lifts the fabric of her dress to avoid tripping, and her saliva goes thick. Not because of what might happen, but because the man who ripped her bicep tenderly, like she was made of the most fragile china, was the most good-looking man she had ever seen. Her mind ran images of things to compare him to, and almost all of them were of the Greek statues put up in museums for all to admire. 

He leads her past the crowd and the kitchen where everyone was making drinks, past the wrap around stairs on the inside of the house, and even past the calmer sitting areas where couples were making out or groups of friends passed a smoking joint. He leads her right through the open back doors of the house so they faced the seemingly endless cornfield and the barn that was a speck behind it. The deck was less populated than the couches where kids smoked weed, but y/n guessed that it wasn’t to his liking because instead of turning off to the side so they could have a much less strained… conversation, he continued to walk- this time standing beside her instead of behind her. 

Grass crunched under their feet as they got closer to the stalks of corn. Confused, y/n spared a glance to what she was leaving, and then to him. He stared straight ahead, but she caught his eyes flickering in her direction, and a smirk quirking cockily on his lips before they returned to the yawning face of the moon. 

There was a short wooden fence separating the house from the cornfield that reached her hip, and he stopped there. 

“Finally,” he sighed, “Some peace and quiet.” He makes a gesture to the fence, and pops his gum. 

Dizzied, the tequila still in her head, she watches his tongue gather the gum back into his mouth, his lips shining with his own spit. Y/n doesn’t register that the movement towards the fence was his way of telling her to take a seat on the wooden bars. 

“C’mere,” he murmured. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her up so she could sit on the wooden fence, and her hands went to his wrists instinctively, trying to keep herself steady. 

Suddenly out of breath, her eyes shot straight up to his. There’s no way he can’t hear my heart right now, she thinks. He’s so close to her, his breath on her face. He smelled like pink bubblegum, cologne, and a liquor much more sophisticated than what she had to drink. His eyes held the same spell that she felt she was under. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, his hands still on her waist. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to step away from her, and that was okay because she didn’t want him to. 

“Y/n,” she whispered. It was physically impossible to raise her voice any louder. The stupid corset was making it harder for her to breathe, along with the added pressure of being in his presence. “You?”

“Prince Harry, at your service,” he smiled then, and y/n got a glimpse of shockingly sharp canines. They had to be fake. Longer than most in length, and she swore she saw one of those cartoonish-diamond glitter at the knife-like tips of his teeth. 

She pointed to his mouth and said, “Are you a vampire prince?”

He looked at her strangely, his brows furrowing and his tongue running along the inside of his cheeks. Then, he laughed. “Something like that.” 

“I-” She was gonna say something along the lines of ‘I think you’re a very good looking vampire prince’ until he cut her off.

“How about we play a game?” One of his hands lifted from her waist, and she let go to steady herself by grabbing onto the plant. Y/n hoped that her dress wasn’t getting dirty, but the moment that Harry brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear it flew out the window. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into his touch like a purring kitten. She blamed her blatant carelessness on the alcohol. “A game?”

“Yes, y/n. A game,” he muttered, watching the way her eyes twitched under her eyelids. 

“Which game?” Her eyes fluttered open again, and her breasts pushed against the corset as she took a deep breath, “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“Oh,”he glanced down, to her lips and for half a second, to the repressed mounds of her tits,  “I promise the conversation is going to be much more interesting after a game of hide and seek.” 

“Where would we even play t-that?”

“Right,” he pinched her chin with two fingers so that her lips smushed together, and gently tilted her head towards the field of corn. “There.” 

That’s how she found herself, running for her life in the middle of a corn maze, at night, on Halloween. 

What had started off as her giggling and running had soon into a panting, scared-shit-less run for no reason. Maybe it was because she just couldn’t get Harry off of her tail, or maybe it was that she was running with no direction into a cornfield she was sure was lost in. Maybe it was a combination of all those things. 

Harry yelled, “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” and it only made her want to cry. 

It was strange, really. Y/n didn’t know where this fear was coming from, it started out with them actually having fun, the tips of his fingers tugging at the fabric of the skirt before he let her run a bit, calling out how he was going to get her, how he was gonna catch the princess and she was giggling, turning to see him disappear when she turned. 

Then he went quiet. The footsteps stopped. And his tone of voice dropped to something much more… sinister. 

“Come out, little one,” he said, a clear whisper poured directly into her ear. 

Y/n turned, and she felt him getting closer so she tried to run faster. But she was getting so, so tired, and it felt like she couldn’t get any air into her lungs. All she knew then was the moon, with her tired face, and the intimidating, tall stalks of corn. 

Harry supposes that he’s doing her a favor. A lot of people wish they could run through a field wearing a dress like the one y/n has on. He was a bit of a shit, sure, setting her up for failure given he had abilities that she did not possess, but, he knew just as he knew the sky is blue- that she liked and wanted to walk into the corn field. Now, it wasn’t because Harry happens to be really good at reading people, no.

As an empath- one of the terms in the fine print of the being he was- he was able to connect into the funnel between her veins, the curved out thrum of what she was feeling. The witches he knew compared it to reading an aura, but it was much more than that. There was no need for interpretation of colors because it was like he was her, feeling what she was feeling. And she liked it.

Up until, of course, he switched up his game. 

After a few minutes of running around and playing with her like she was a mouse, Harry decided that he wanted to scare her. He wanted to give her a taste of himself. He wanted her to be scared- to not like him. Because he was something that shouldn’t be liked. It was a sick thing, really, that he happened to be so good looking when he was a literal monster. Harry fucking drank human blood. He wasn’t something that should be thought of as Greek statues. 

The part of him that remained human throughout the years felt bad for doing this to her. But, he had to. It made him feel better when he sunk his teeth into a victim’s skin. Almost like… he’d warned them, and it was their fault that they hadn’t taken the signal.

A scarecrow loomed overhead, and her lungs were running out of air, so he decided to go ahead and make his final jump on her. 

When y/n broke through the final turn to reach the very small clearing in the center of the field where a scarecrow stood in between a few bales of hay, she felt his breath at the back of her throat, and her knees buckled. 

She’d never really been much a screamer during a jump scare. Instead, she sucked her breath in, really loud and sudden, and because she was having such a hard time breathing, that instinctually breath caused black dots to litter her vision and suddenly those weak knees contributed to a faint. 

Harry caught her, and picked her up, huffing a small laugh to himself as he laid her across the piles of hay. 

She really was a sight to see. Flushed, hair a mess from all her running. Her lips were dewy and her waterline was agitated, he could see the moisture in the place where her eyelashes sprouted. 

With a few pats to the cheek, her eyes fluttered open, he was still hovering over her. Harry did not make a move to scoot back. 

“You’re awake, princess,” he said, smirking.

Y/n blinked, her eyes wide, and… gasped when Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek. His lips were cool against her heated cheek, and the curved ends of his slicked back hair tickled her chin. 

“You chased me,” she gulped, “for a long time.”

“Yes, I did. And you liked it. Didn’t you, little one?” He allowed the tip of his nose to follow the line of her jaw, testing the waters. She liked it, he could feel the shudders it sent to her heart in his bones. 

“I did.” Her eyes furrowed at her own admission. Why was she being so carefree? Why was she allowing herself to continue to stay in this cornfield? What was stopping her from questioning further what the fuck was going on? Her attraction, and his implied interest, that’s what.

Harry’s tongue slipped out of his mouth, and licked at her jaw before he placed another kiss to it, “Good. What do you say we have some more fun?” “What kind of fun?” Her head titled, and he was given direct access to what he wanted. Her neck. The column of her throat was pulsing with the beat of her heart, and the veins he could almost taste criss-crossed beneath her skin. 

“Fun is fun, pet. But if you must know, the kind of fun I’m talking about involves a lot of mouth to mouth,” He moved so his face was directly in front of hers again, and his palm gripped her waist beneath him. Unconscioslu, her legs parted and Harry had more space to slide both of his thighs between hers, one of his knees resting on the bales of hay she rested on. 

Y/n was no longer worried about the state of her dress, but rather, where his mouth would land, and where she would put her hands. Her eyes bounced between his, but they struggled to remain still under his intense hold. “O-okay. I’d like that.” 

“The prettiest princess I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled into the hollow underneath her jaw. And it was true. He’d seen a lot of royalty all throughout his wretched life, and none of them had been as pretty as she was. He felt a shiver of arousal go through her at the same time the air came fresh into his lungs, and it felt like he was going to explode from the inside out. 

“I think you’re the most handsome prince I’ve ever seen.” 

Y/n wanted to slap a hand over her mouth the moment those words left her lips, but Harry only chuckled and the vibrations felt heavenly against her skin. 

“You've been seeing other princes’, little one?” Harry teased, his mouth tracing their words against her lips. He pressed forward and kissed her; just a peck, testing. Again, she liked it. 

“No, just you,” she shivered. Her words were coming out in pants now. The fabri of her dress was too thick and too abundant to allow for any frisky actions, but his mouth was enough. One of his fingers was running over the tops of her breasts. Her mouth opened, she wanted more. Harry tasted of pink bubble gum. She wondered where it went. 

He chuckled and kissed her once more. “Then how do you know you know I’m the most handsome?” 

“I just do,” she said, arching into his touch. His finger was hooking into her sleeve, and he let it snap into her skin. 

“You do?” He licked her bottom hip, and she whined. This game, whatever it was, she wanted it to be over. It was too much for her to handle. 

“Yeah,” y/n said in a dreamy, far-off voice. “I mean, yes. Yes.”

Harry relished in what she felt, and soon enough, his cock twitched in his trousers. He never let himself become… involved in his meals emotions, but it was different with her. She was tender, and sweet. Willing and not a nuisance that he drowned out before biting. 

“Am I handsome enough... for you to let me bite you?” And that was another thing. 

Harry never asked for permission. Y/n was drunk enough that she’d wake up the next morning and think that he was just some kinky dude who’d left a sick hickey on her throat, as all of his ‘victims’ were, but still. Harry had asked for permission. 

“Bite me?” She was confused, head fuzzy with the same feeling that was heating in her groin. The lacy knickers she wore were probably soaked through. The bale on her bum was beginning to hurt. 

“Yes, princess. Bite, right,” he licked a stripe right where her pulse was the strongest to accentuate his intentions. “Here.”

“Okay, Harry.” 

He was handsome. And she was horny (with a mix of other things), she didn’t see a reason to say no. 

“Thank you, pet.” 

It was the same as it always was. Harry nuzzled into the spot, sniffing like a dog meeting a new friend, and with no preamble, he bit into her. The tips of his teeth pierced her flesh, and he allowed them to retract once the blood started to flow. When the first drop touched his tongue, he groaned. She was good, one of the best he’d ever had, and the heady flavor was just as sweet as she was. He was so caught up in his own satisfaction that he didn’t notice the moment her hands bunched the fabric of his suit from the late 1700s into fists, or her body going tense before he slowly relaxed, her heartbeat an irregular mix as she decided whether or not she should be panicking. 

But, he knew that she continued to enjoy what she was doing. 

“H-harry, I-”  She went limp in his arms, and the small squeak that left her mouth was the mermaid’s song that enchanted Harry. 

He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her again. 

*     *      *    *    *   *   *   *    *   *   *    *   *    *   *

hi! happy halloween babies! or better yet, happy harryween! i hope you enjoyed this peice, it was for sure out of my comfort zone and something new for me. if you haven’t yet, please check out my fanfic on wattpad in which harry owns a more aesthetic version of playboy mag. you can read it here.

[fkahersweetness]

Hannigram/HEU Hub Directory

THIS IS THE NEW DIRECTORY: hannigramheuhub.carrd.co

This old one will not be updated further. The Hub continues to grow! :D

Main Stories:

Come, Thou Almighty! [17 chapters / complete]

A pious young man is tasked with caring for God's only living son.

Little Animals [18 chapters / complete]

A twunk runs headfirst into his third-life crisis.

Prothalamion [20 chapters / complete]

A young omega is sent to Romania to be courted by an alpha. The young omega's twin brother is not having it.

Peachboy [19 chapters / complete]

The innocent affection between an alpha and an omega unearths the beastly nature of a quaint Southern town.

Commissions:

No Sinner Need Rise Up, Forgiven [complete]

Post-Housekeeping. Those left behind figure it out.

Don't Let Him See Me Like This [4 parts / complete]

A sex shop worker struggles with the intimacy of a new relationship.

Champagne [complete]

An omega meets an alpha who smells of persimmons.

The Sea Upside Down [complete]

A Subject disappears in the desert.

What Remains of Will Graham [complete]

Hunger is endured on a lonely mountainside.

Bad Seed [complete]

A teacher is confronted by a problem child.

Colonize the Night [complete]

An infant learns how to eat.

The Gimp in the Graveyard [complete]

A gifted student embraces his talents.

Georgette [complete]

An omega marries an alpha who no longer smells of persimmons.

A History Lesson [complete]

A freshman lusts after an enigmatic grad student.

Adam (All the Time) [complete]

An integration of worlds goes awry.

No Children [complete]

Post-Prothalamion. Two celebrations on two yachts.

Swept Away [complete]

A trip to Mexico goes awry.

Hyperpop Princess Panic!! [complete]

A man falls in love with a pop star.

We Will Be So Young [4 parts / complete]

Two men become entangled in each other's addictions.

Rides With Strangers [complete]

I-70 becomes a hotbed for life-changing journeys.

The Trouble With Strays [complete]

What turns man into man's best friend?

Bloodmoon Rising [complete]

A man becomes a slave to the night.

Big Timber [2 parts / complete]

An omega adjusts to new surroundings.

Traumabomb [complete]

Mads/Reader #1.

Summer's Child [complete]

An omega loses himself to the season.

666 Kill Chop Deluxe [2 parts / complete]

Two serial killers get to the root of the problem.

NOEL [complete]

A scoundrel enjoys a cozy Christmas Eve with friends.

Your Weight in Gold [complete]

Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.

1899 [complete]

Two men look into the wonders of a coming century.

Short Stories:

Yourself and People Like You [complete]

An online encounter takes a turn.

Fleeced [complete]

A roving nobody comes to town.

Robbery [complete]

Post-It Boy. A first date gets off to a rocky start.

Chant This Charm [4 parts / complete]

A forest-dweller considers a life partner.

Adam (You're Freaking Me Out) [complete]

A man tries to reclaim his self-worth.

Arrogance and Sewage [complete]

Mid-A Gifted Student. A young Muse blossoms.

The Will Graham Revenge Machine [4 parts / complete]

A man with no past and a boy with no future collide.

Love Spell [complete]

Relationship essentials are examined.

The Shepherd's Sweet Lot [complete]

Milder weather on Breidamerkurfjall brings change.

Secondhand [complete]

A beloved owl is mercilessly killed.

The Professional [complete]

A college student pursues his goals.

Modern Marvels [3 parts / complete]

Amazon remains an unreliable entity.

Extras:

Catboy Drawing Hour is held for everyone in and out of the Hub here, on Tuesdays at 7PM EST.

Robyn Reviews

my knee-jerk reviews of all HEU movies.

The Black Girl Snapped

a column of my most controversial and hilarious Hannibal the Show opinions.

[liamdunbagel]

Invincible, Ep. 5 – Praises

I finally got around to watching the new episode! These are some things I especially enjoyed:

The scene where Mark texted Amber in the middle of a fight SENT me. It perfectly encapsulated the #1 priority of a (hetero) teenage boy: Girls Girls Girls™. It was also a cool creative choice – much more interesting than just watching them talking in a hallway.

I’m pleasantly surprised that the creators chose to make Amber and Eve friends. I expected the typical teen cat-fight bullshit, so I’m glad they didn’t go that route. Still not happy about the love triangle in general, but at least the girls aren’t fighting over Mark.

The constant digs at Fight Force have me CACKLING. Amazing running gag. 10/10, 5 stars, two thumbs up, we love to see it.

The ending completely shocked me! Ironically, Nolan’s vehement mistrust in Titan actually made me trust him more. Nolan’s a psychopath, so when he told Mark that Titan was “obviously using him,” I assumed Nolan was just lying in an attempt to convince Mark not to help. I never imagined Nolan might be right.

This is just nostalgia talking, but I like the soundtrack for this show. Very teen-like. It reminds me a bit of MTV’s Teen Wolf. Not because they have the same type of music, but because they both encapsulate adolescence really well. Also, each time a song starts playing, Amazon lists the name in the “X-Ray,” just like MTV did back in the day.

Criticism for Ep. 5 | Theories and Musings for Ep. 5

[deathblinked]

@anabioun

most everyone had retired to their trailers for the night, but eve had lingered behind to spend a little time with just herself and the piano. when the sleepiness begins to grow, the stage lights are turned off and she exits the tent through one of the side flaps. in front of her are all of the trailers and small tents, and just beyond that, the lights of the carousel and ferris wheel illuminate the night- illuminate the shape of a person in the corner of her eye.

eve turns, peers through the fence and finds herself silently remarking on how tall he is, which it should be said, has never happened to her before. she can’t see a face for the dark and the cloak he’s wearing, but it looks like he’s reading their signage. “--if you’re here for the show, you’re a little late. we wrapped up an hour ago.”

[bloodykneestm]

[slow dance] ( Jimmy @ Anton! )

[slow dance] my muse pulls your muse close and into a slow dance ( Jimmy @ Anton! )  ( @curtaincalled​ / close to you meme! )

amazon eve is on the piano on the other side of the curtain, playing from sheet music anton brought with him when elsa invited him aboard for backstage work. the show is a few acts from its end so it’s just him and jimmy under the dim work lights. the shorter of the two men puts a hand on his opposite’s lower back, pulling him close. it’s not the first time they’ve been this close, ( they hadn’t been able to hide their interest in one other for long and one thing had led quickly to the other. ) but it’s new enough that his heart still races whenever the other man’s body is pressed to his. he takes one fused hand in his free one, lifting them into the air, pulling him into a slow dance, intentionally giving the other a chance to learn the incredibly basic footwork from demonstration before beginning to lead in earnest, guiding him across the floor in the small backstage area to the music.  as the music reaches its climax anton spins the other man, pulling him closer as he completes the turn, searching his eyes for a moment, studying the other man with an adoring gaze before closing the slight distance, kissing him deep, sweet and slow.

[alleiradayne]

There’s Something Strange A Reader/Sam Winchester Series

When Y/N Y/L/N escapes to the upper Midwest for a weekend of inspiration to begin her tenth paranormal thriller novel, she never imagined the source of that inspiration to be her own life. Between the old mansion, two peculiar men posing as antiquers, and the mysterious death of the heiress of Hill Manor one-hundred and fifty years ago, Y/N learns the truth about far more than the paranormal.

Part I - The House on The Hill

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N spends her first hours at Hill Manor attempting to begin her tenth paranormal thriller, but finds herself completely distracted. Warnings/Tags: Alllll the fluffy flirting Square filled: Author AU Characters/Pairings: Reader/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, guest appearances of Journalist!Natalie Murphy and Basketball Player!Elizabeth Andersson, Father Justin Smith, Widow Harold, Andrew the Groundskeeper, unnamed cook, and a young woman traveling the country named Alysha. Word Count: 2,021 A/N: For @spnfluffbingo2019, this entire series fills the Author AU square. Super giant huge thank you to @atc74 who beta’d this giant thing for me.

As she stood in the reaching shadows of the towering spires and peaked eves of the mansion, a breeze too cold for August’s heat snatched the hem of her skirt and whipped it about her knees. Dark grain rested for centuries upon darker stone, both worn grey by nature’s unforgiving touch. And in the center of that ancient façade stood an entry consumed by foreboding shadows like the gaping maw of a slumbering beast.

Y/N tore the page from her notebook and tossed it aside, forgotten the instant it hit the floor. Slumped over the writing desk, she stared at a fresh page of lined paper, blank as her mind.

Well. Mostly blank. Blank but for that damned mansion. Get away, they had said. Take a vacation, go someplace quiet. You just need some inspiration.

Quiet. When had quiet ever helped her write anything? It only served as a distraction as far as she was concerned. An empty space in her head for nuisance thoughts to take up residence.

Like the ridiculous mansion in which she sat.

The idea of finding inspiration on a trip wasn��t foreign to Y/N. Quite the contrary, she had written her first best seller that way. In Manhattan. Not in rural Minnesota, surrounded by nothing but forest while staying in a rundown mansion-turned-bed-and-breakfast.

Okay, maybe she exaggerated. The mansion had come highly recommended, and the surprisingly young and numerous staff ran a tight ship, too. Not a spec of dirt or dust marred any surface, a request for afternoon coffee had been served at great haste, and by four o’clock on the first night, the scrumptious aromas of dinner had wafted up the stairs to her room directly above the kitchen. And in two nights, the owners would host a large party for family and friends, as well as current guests, to celebrate the mansion's bicentennial birthday.

Far from quaint, her quarters spanned half the eastern wing of the house. A living space and a bedroom, as well as a full bath with a separate shower and tub rivaled most apartments in which she had ever lived. Ornate furniture and art filled the space, encroaching on crowded and only narrowly avoiding such a trespass.

Bronze sconces, ornate hearths surrounding massive fireplaces, and the darkest wood from floor to ceiling all amounted to one giant, fucking distraction. After weeks filled with useless attempts to start her tenth and final novel, Y/N had hoped beyond all hope that her writer’s block might meet its match there at The House on the Hill.

But after three hours, she decided to call round one in favor of writer’s block. Despite the number of times she had retied her bun, adjusted her glasses, and straightened her shirt, the start of her story eluded her. They typically did, and too often for her tastes. Y/N had in mind the perfect paranormal thriller, filled with suspense, mystery, and plenty of terror. But where to start? In the middle of the fray, leaving the reader confused, yet intrigued and desperate to learn how Natalie had ended up the owner of a haunted house? Or at the beginning, when her parents died under strange circumstances after having bought the place to flip, and the mess had fallen into her lap?

Neither met her standards. Too many stories about haunted houses started in the thick of things, right at the apex of fear, then fell flat and left the reader bored. But worse would be to start at the beginning only to drone an on endlessly about how everything came to pass on one neat, single-threaded plot.

As Y/N stood from the desk with a forceful shove of her chair, she entertained the thought of starting at the end, with Natalie responsible for a house full of vengeful spirits bound to her and her blood for eternity. That might work. But the risk? While she was a successful novelist, Y/N knew that sort of creative license to be reserved for other authors. Particularly, authors that were not women.

That might be reason enough to do it anyway.

Maybe.

The growl of her stomach interrupted her internal debate, her hunger exacerbated by the succulent scents that filled her nose. A full stomach would help. And a fresh pot of coffee. A little conversation with the other guests might relinquish her muse, too. Without any further delay, she strode to the door and rounded it for the wide hallway lined with gaudy art and overstuffed furniture.

The smells of the kitchen faded as she neared the main staircase where the two wings of the mansion met in a grand entry illuminated by a monstrous chandelier. A once heavy layer of carpet covered the near black wood of the stairs, dampening her footfalls as she descended into the foyer of the mansion. Two guests stood at the bottom of the staircase, an elderly woman in deep conversation with a young man, his dark curly brown hair and priest’s cassock destiny contrasting each other. Effervescent stories bubbled to life, she a long-time widow of a farmer and he a newly minted priest at the local chapel.

As she passed them, she overheard their debate: it might rain tomorrow.

Eavesdropping any further served her only if she were researching the small talk habits of Midwesterners. Not that the social elite of New York fared any better. Want something banal to discuss? Fall back on the weather.

But Y/N desperately needed the opposite of banal. She craved spice, juicy details and salacious rumors. The stuff that ruined presidential candidates. Or vaulted them into office. Those glimpses of private indiscretions fueled her writing. She created entire lives from little nuggets of unrest. Sure, she wrapped it up in the thin veneer of the supernatural and paranormal. But the underlying implications, the intent in her themes, remained the same.

So, when she spotted a burly middle-aged man towering in the shadowy corner near the entrance to the dining room all on his own, she gravitated to him like a moth drawn to a flame. Dirty fingernails, cracked hands, and corded muscle screamed manual labor. He, she decided, was the mansion’s groundskeeper. You didn’t get shoulders like his doing paperwork. Sunken eyes stared through a shroud of fog only he could see, and he hardly paid her any mind as Y/N strolled past into the dining room. He might serve her story well, but he would need work. A lot of work. Probably more than it was worth.

Another sigh followed her into the dining room where she found the remainder of the guests already seated at the long table that stretched the length of the room. Laden with plates, table cloths, and autumnal centerpieces, she could hardly see the heavy mahogany beneath it. But a quick peek under the layers of fabric revealed a pristine and delicately carved corner, and she cursed that anyone would think to cover such a beautiful work of art.

Though disheartened, Y/N found solace in the matching chairs, their work on display beneath another tremendous chandelier and a line of candelabras on the table. And when it came time to choose her seat, she had but to glance at the guests for single beat to decide.

At the head of the table a young woman sat in a sharp pantsuit, a recorder in her hand and held out to the woman on her left. The two could not be any different. If the recorder stood, Y/N assumed she’d barely reach five feet. The woman speaking into the recorder had to be nearly six feet tall and all muscle, with broad shoulders and defined arms.

Between the interviewer’s jet-black hair, bright red lips, and piercing blue eyes, Y/N wondered how she had landed a job as a reporter and not some sort of movie star. The blonde amazon, she determined, was an athlete of some sort. Again, nobody ended up with shoulders like hers sitting on their ass all day.

A third woman sat across from the blonde athlete and stared without reservation at them both, her big for eyes sliding between the two of them as they spoke. Y/N couldn't blame her, what with the reporter’s Hollywood style and the athlete’s power dominating the room, it was any wonder that the remaining two guests has buried themselves in their phones.

Two men sat beside each other to the left of the athlete but paid her and the reporter no mind. Directly on her left sat the shorter of the two, although neither man could be considered small. The man to his left sat an easy four inches taller than him, with long brown hair and a long pointed nose. Though they paid her no mind as she sat across from the taller of the two, their subtle, wordless communication indicated an old, deep relationship beyond that of mere guest of the bed and breakfast.

They must get the honeymoon suite all the time. Poor sods. Anyone with half a brain who took a little longer than a cursory glance would know they were brothers.

The thought vanished as she reached for her glass and the ring on her right hand clinked every so gently on the crystal. The shorter man startled so, the athlete shot him a glare that he tried to return with as much dignity and charm he could muster. On Y/N it would have worked. But the athlete turned back to her interview without another look and the man turned back to his phone.

The taller man, however, had not reacted but for the flick of his eyes—Jesus Christ, what color were they?—as they snapped to hers. He watched as she raised her glass to her lips, stared as she drank, and his phone slowly drifted to the table, the screen darkened and turned face down.

Whatever had those men on edge, it seemed serious. Civilian clothes and high anxiety suggested air marshals or rangers. Maybe even detectives. Maybe they were investigating a crime. Like a murder. Good thing there wasn't a butler. Y/N had no stomach for murder mysteries. She wrote best about the long dead. Not the recently departed.

Antiquers? They had that charm about them, disheveled, road weary, worn. Liked they lived in their car. But just as she was about to create another ridiculous history for the two men, Mr. Long and Tall reached across the table as he smiled and spoke.

“Sam.”

With her glass returned to the table, she took his hand in a full grip only to realize too late his grasp dwarfed hers. Double-down. Stay confident. A coy smile crooked her lips as she squeezed his hand and said, “Y/N.”

“That's quite the handshake,” Sam said, his own subtle smile peeking through.

“That’s quite the pickup line,” she retorted.

Sam laughed as he released her hand and averted his stare. “I'm out of practice,” he muttered as he glanced up from beneath his prominent brow.

A likely story. “Not with that look, you aren't.”

A hard backhand connected with Sam's shoulder, wiping the smile off his face as Sam turned to his right. But before the shorter man could put words to the irritation plain on his face, the cook entered the dining room and announced dinner. A stern glare earned him a threatening look from Sam, but the two settled as the cook mentioned homemade pecan pie for dessert.

“Okay, this job was officially worth it,” he muttered too loudly. Sam's angular glare flicked from Y/N to the other man, who merely shrugged. “Just sayin'. Glad there's pie. Even though I think we're jumping the gun here.”

Another flat glare from Sam sealed it; they were definitely brothers.

The remaining guests filed in one by one until the table sat full, the priest on her left and the elderly woman on her right. Mr. Shoulders took the remaining seat at the end of the table, his distant gaze still staring straight ahead and unseeing.

With all guests present, dinner commenced, and Y/N bet her life on finding the perfect start to her best novel yet.

If you want to be tagged for this series specifically, send me an ask or a DM! If you want in on any of my tags (Sam/Jared, Dean/Jensen), you can ask for that, too!

THERE’S SOMETHING STRANGE MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN FLUFF BINGO MASTERLIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74  @hannahindie @bevans87  @meganwinchester1999  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus  @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox @wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm  @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs  @seenashwrite  @canadianspnhunter  @meowmeow-motherfucker @depressed-moose-78 @staycejo1 @hobby27  @pretty-fortune @mypopculturediva @fanfictionjunkie1112 @sandlee44 @4llmywr1tings @claitynroberts @maddiepants @scarletluvscas @donnaintx @blackeyedangel9805 @rainflowermoon @winchesterprincessbride  @lazinessisalliknow @the-is13 @waywardafgrandma @keymology @sister-winchesters99

Sam’s Sasstresses:

@morganas-pendragons @karouwinchester

There’s Something Strange:

@peridottea91 @amanda-teaches

[feelfear]

can we all just appreciate the stupidity of dell when he decides he’s gonna kill one of the freaks and picks probably the only one who can take him in a fight?