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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years

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Shelter

Summary: The reader finds herself separated from Dean on a hunt. Could one miss step cost her her life, or is it simply a new beginning?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Near death experience,

Author’s Note: 1st, I suck at summaries, hence why I almost never use them. 2nd, this has been a WIP that I’ve been staring at for months, and I needed to just post it so I stop thinking about everything that I hate (you are your own worst critic, bleh). This is also here to hold you all on while I try and finish my first series (YAY!)

My Masterlist

It was cold. Damn was it cold out. You sighed, your warm breath spiraling out into winter night sky.

“Damn it.” You hissed as you scanned the area around you. The trees towered over you, casting menacing shadows, only allowing small beams of light here and there. You were on a hunt in a small town just north of Baltimore. Dean had insisted on going with you, ignoring your many protests. He was too damn protective. You'd be damned if you hadn't been on a hundred hunts without him and come out the other end just fine.

But now here you were, alone and cold as hell in the middle of the forest. You guys had tracked the werewolf to a secluded cabin. She was vacationing there with her fiancé. However, by the time you arrived it was too late for him. His body lay heaped in a massive pile of blood on the kitchen floor; no heart. Dean was fuming, angry with himself no doubt that another person was dead when you heard her howl outside. Dean sprinted out the front door, faster than anything you had seen before. You tried to follow but you just couldn't keep up, and now you were lost.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, bouncing off the trees around you.

“DEAN!” You screamed as you ran towards the shot. Blinded and heart pounding you had no way of knowing which way you were going. It was dark but all you knew was you had to find Dean.

“Dean!”

“Y/N!” His low voice came out from your left. You changed your direction, your feet falling carelessly in front of you when you slipped, ass hitting the ground hard. The snow hit every exposed part or your body as you tumbled down hill, picking up momentum until sliding headfirst into a pond. The ice cold water hit your skin like a thousand knives. Up, down you weren't sure which was which, all you knew was the feeling was leaving your extremities. Kicking your feet you let air out of you mouth, feeling the bubbles crawl up your face you followed them to the surface. As your head broke water, you heard him.

“Oh god, Y/N!” Dean came sliding towards the banks of the pond. He reached out for you, his feet slipping slightly into the water and helps to pull you onto dry land.

“Dean, the werewolf.” You coughed between breaths. Your teeth chattering so loud they could hear it in New York.

“She's dead Y/N, it's over.” He assured you. “Come on let's get somewhere warm.” He helped you to your feet.

“What about you? Are you okay?” Your words came out in between shivers. It was dark but you could see the bruises forming on his left cheek, and the small trickle of blood coming from his forehead.

“I'm good,” Dean repeated his assurances. “Come on let's get you into that cabin.”

By the time you reached the cabin, your body was more than shivering, you were convulsing. The reactions you body was experiencing almost painful.

“Fuck!” You growled and shook yourself out, attempting to gain some control over yourself. Dean was also trying to warm you up, rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders. But it was futile. He ran inside with you tailing him and started a fire.

You sighed, looking around the small cabin. And when you said small, you meant it. It was one room, not even a bathroom. There was an outhouse just behind the cabin. You walked over the the bed, teeth still chattering and began pulling off your clothes. It was difficult, the soaked cloth clinging to your skin. Your jeans were the hardest to get off but when you did you tossed them with a loud plop on the wood flooring.

“Y/N, come by the fi-” Dean's words trailed off as he turned towards your bare figure. He was quick to turn back around, averting his eyes back to the fire. You chuckled lightly to yourself.

“Um I think, uh.” He stammered.

“What? The only way I can really warm up is to get out of my soaking wet clothes.” You mused, despite the aching in your limbs. The words were broken on your tongue with each convulsion, and you weren’t sure if he even understood a word you said. You fumbled with the blanket on the bed, your fingers so numb you couldn't grab anything.

“Um, Dean a little help?” You blushed and gestured to the blanket when he turned around. His Adam's apple noticeably dipped as he swallowed hard and worked to keep his focus on the bed. Gracefully in one quick motion, he swept the blanket off of the bed and around your shoulders. Dean guided you back and set you down next to him at the base of the fireplace.

“Th-thank you.” You murmured as Dean continued to rub your shoulders to help your body warm up. You leaned into him, his body seeming to radiate more warmth than the fire.

“It's no problem.” He smiled down at you. Your faces were close together, the scent of Dean’s aftershave assaulting your senses.

You tried to focus on him, or the fire, or even the intricate pattern on the blanket, but it was no use. All that you could focus on was bite of numbness in your fingers and toes, or how the intense shake of your jaw nearly caused you to bite your tongue.

“Jesus, sweetheart.” Dean was still rubbing your shoulders, keeping you as close as possible. “Here.” He moved away then and stood. You watched as he reached over his head to tug his shirt off. Dean moved to his undo his buckle as he toed off his shoes. It was your turn to swallow thickly as he discarded his jeans, leaving just his briefs that left little to the imagination.

You had met the Winchesters almost ten years ago. Traveling in and out of their lives ever since. Occasionally you would stay with the brothers at the bunker, and even hunted with them. They were the closest thing you had to family, but you would have to blind, or a lesbian, to not be attracted to both of them. Dean though, Dean had a special hold on you. The man may be the most dangerous hunter you have met, but he also had this insane soft side to him. He knew how you took your coffee in the morning, and that you preferred a cup of tea when doing research compared to his whiskey. He knew your favorite song, and how after a post hunt drink, your tipsy ass loved nothing more than a pint of Ice cream, mint chocolate chip. The tug on you heart was subtle, but you knew what it meant.

“What a-are you doing?”

“Survival 101.” He grinned and moved back to your side. Dean nudged open the blanket you had wrapped around yourself, keeping his eyes at a courteous level as he wrapped it around the pair of you, bringing you into his side. If you thought he was warm before, you were wrong. The heat radiating off of him was almost painful to the touch under your numb fingers, but it immediately seeped into you, and you could feel your body starting to relax.

“Shit, t-thank you.” You eyes were drifting slightly as exhaustion set in. Dean dropped you backwards and you curled into him.

“Just sleep.” He murmured and you obliged, succumbing to sleep.

When you came to, the sun was barely coming up over the horizon, casting a beautiful blue and purple hue across the sky. Dean was snoring softly next to you, his chest rising and falling under your hand. An ache ran across your hips as you shifted, sleeping on the floor was not ideal. A sharp snort came from Dean’s mouth as your movement woke him.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.” You whispered as you sat up and draped and arm to cover your chest.

“Wait, let me look at you.” Dean’s voice was raspy with sleep as he sat up. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears at his words, but he simply took your hands in his own, turning them over as he inspected them. He looked over your toes and then took your chin in his hand, turning your head to inspect each side. His gaze was intense, and your could feel yours skin heat as blood flooded under the surface.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you didn’t get frostbite. Everything looks good though. Are you good?”

“Yes, all warm. Thank you.” You blushed furiously again. Dean had obviously noticed, his brow quirking.

“No need.” Dean’s tongue poked out and he drew it back, taking his lower lip in under his teeth.

“But really Dean, thank you. It was a really vulnerable moment for me. I was such a klutz.”

“Y/N, you slipped in snow. It’s pretty easy to do.” He assured you.

“Dean, just let me thank you.” You huffed and he only grinned wider. He leaned back, giving you your opening.

“Thank you.” You drew out the word as you leaned over him, planting your lips firmly on his. Dean surely did expect that and he hesitated for half a second before responding in earnest. His left hand landed on your waist as he opened up to you, your tongues moving together effortlessly. Dean pulled away, both of you now breathing heavily.

“That’s one hell of a thank you.” He laughed, his smile all toothy. You hummed before responding.

“Mm I’m not done.” You pushed him all the way onto his back and threw a leg over his hips before kissing him again. Again his hands found your hips, his fingers digging gently into the soft flesh there. You rutted your bare core against Dean who gasped into your mouth, and you could feel his cock hardening between you.

“Fuck sweetheart. Are you sure?” He mumbled against your lips.

“Yeah, yes, definitely.” Dean giggled as you nodded over enthusiastically. You pecked the corner of his mouth, dragging your lips across his jaw and up to his ear to nibble the lobe lightly. He shifted under you, evidence that your ministrations were working. You continued to move down, trailing your tongue down his chest and nipped your teeth into the flesh at his hip. Dean propped himself up on his elbows to watch you and you returned his gaze with a wink.

Dean lifted his hips as you slipped your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, allowing you to pull them off of him. He continued to watch you as you took his erection in your hand, stroking him up and down as he grew harder. Saliva flooded your mouth as you took him in, all ready for you and thick in your palm. A thumb brushed over the precum leaking from the tip as your tongue licked heavily up the underside of his cock before following your thumb around his head. Dean moaned lowly, his head tipping back as you took him fully in your mouth, sucking him off, your hand moving where your mouth couldn’t reach.

Obscene noises were escaping Dean’s mouth only spurring your actions. Hearing everything he was giving you only spurred you on, wetness pooling between your legs. Dean nudged your shoulder and you pulled your mouth off of him with a wet pop. Your hand continued to stroke his erection as you glanced at him.

“Sweetheart come here.” He pulled you back to him, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. A smile spread across your lips as he flipped you onto your back and you giggled. Dean set himself between your open legs, his mouth sucking into your neck as his fingers slipped through your folds. He deftly worked them back and forth, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit as he slipped two fingers into your opening. As the heat built in your belly, your legs were fighting to close around Dean. Dean pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them and stretching your walls.

“Dean,” the moan escaped you and you gripped the arm Dean was using to keep himself hovering over you.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” Dean breathed his praise in your ear, only tightening the coil inside you further. You whimpered at the loss of Dean’s fingers as he sat back on his heels. He pumped his cock, your slickness on his fingers making it move smoothly. You watched him intently as he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in slowly. Dean’s hands moved to your hips as he pulled back out slowly, his cock head dragging along your walls. He set a slow rhythm, torturing you with a slow burn.

“Please Dean, fuck me please?” The words were whinier than you intended, but at this point you didn’t care. All you wanted was for Dean to fuck you until you saw stars, but he was intent on drawing it out.

“Anything for you baby.” He said, that shit eating grin returning to his face. He grabbed both of your ankles and positioned your legs on his shoulders allowing him to lift your hips from the floor as he began fucking you hard and deeper.

Everything about you was sensitive, and your waist was burning where Dean’s finger tips dug into your skin. You and Dean’s moans and heavy breaths filled the quiet morning air of the cabin.

“Fuck,”

“I know me too,” you assured Dean you were right there with him. His pace was faltering quickly before he came hard, filling you in the best way and triggering your own climax. You fell with him as he let some of his weight relax on top of you. The pair of you stayed there for a moment, letting your breaths even out. When Dean sat back on his heels, he let his thumb wipe across your forehead, ridding it of the beads of sweat that had pooled there.

“We should have done that last night.”

#deanxreader #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fic #dean fanfic #dean smut #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #shelter #mine #alex writes

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allyouzombies · 5 years

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Current list of tattoos I’ll torture myself over for the next ten years:

Archival quality folder (like those manila looking folders used for filing?)

Blue camel from Raggedy Ann and Andy’s Musical Adventure

Lethargian(s) from The Phantom Tollbooth on my right shoulder

A whittled down overly sharpened pencil stub

“[sic] nasty” - I’m serious. How stupid and FUNNY??? Not very but ANYWAY

Something to do with “Time, Truth, & Hearts” from All These Things That I’ve Done

Something to do with “warsh” (because of my dad lmao)

A sister tattoo with the sister I live with - ideas have included Yard Sard, a reference to an old episode of Johnny Bravo (Apple core, Baltimore), a reference to an old Tootsie Pop commercial (we bad. we bad!)

A tiny bat hanging upside down

Possum

Forget-me-nots

#I AM SO INDECISIVE AND WANT ALL OF THEM BUT DONT WANT MANY TATTOOS IN HIGHLY VISIBLE PLACES FJKLDSD #help??????#ann with an ie #saving thisfor when i forget all the tattoos i want lmao

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kayla1993-world · 2 years

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Apple workers vote to unionize at Maryland store

Employees at an Apple store in a Baltimore suburb voted to unionize by a nearly 2-to-1 margin on Saturday, joining a growing movement in the retail, service, and tech industries in the United States to organize for better workplace protections.

Apple retail workers in Towson, Maryland, voted 65-33 to join the International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers. The outcome of the vote could not be confirmed immediately by the National Labor Relations Board, which would have to certify it. Initial questions about the vote were directed to the NLRB's regional office, which was closed late Saturday.

Lipton told The Associated Press over the phone that the company would not comment on Saturday's development.

After decades of declining membership in the United States, union organizing in a variety of fields has recently gained traction. Amazon, Starbucks, Google parent company Alphabet and outdoors retailer REI are among the companies where organizers have worked to form unions.

The International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers, as well as the Apple employees who wanted to join, said they gave Cook notice of their intent to form a union last month. Their main motivation was to seek “rights we do not currently have.” The workers recently formed the Coalition of Organized Retail Employees or CORE.

Martinez urged Apple to respect the election results and allow unionizing employees at the Towson location to move forward with their efforts to secure a contract.

It was unclear what would happen after the Towson vote. Employers frequently prolong the bargaining process to sap the momentum of union campaigns.

The IAM claims to be one of North America's largest and most diverse industrial trade unions, with 600,000 active and retired members working in aerospace, defence, airlines, railroads, transit, healthcare, automotive, and other industries.

The Apple store unionization comes against a backdrop of other labour organizing efforts across the country, some of which have been met with opposition.

Workers at an Amazon warehouse in New York City voted to unionize in April, marking the company's first successful organizing effort in the United States. Workers at an Amazon warehouse on Staten Island on the other hand, overwhelmingly rejected a union proposal last month. Meanwhile, workers at dozens of Starbucks locations across the United States have voted to unionize in recent months, following the vote of two Starbucks locations in Buffalo, New York, late last year.

Young workers in their 20s and even in their teens have led many unionization efforts. Last year, a group of Google engineers and other employees formed the AWU, which now has around 800 members and is led by five people under the age of 35.

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kingkiddoh · 6 years

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"Apple-core Baltimore. . . I haven't been called that in a long time. . ." said the confused face-apple. #applecorebaltimore #inktober #inktober2018 #inkdrawing #drawings #art #artistsoninstagram #apple #creepy #black_and_white #eerie #kingkiddoh #king_kiddoh #face #bite https://www.instagram.com/p/BpN3tdShrl7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=21h82ahlzn37

#applecorebaltimore #inktober #inktober2018 #inkdrawing #drawings #art #artistsoninstagram #apple #creepy #black_and_white #eerie #kingkiddoh #king_kiddoh #face #bite

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eldbitch-horror · 7 years

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Mirrors and Fruit

A commission for @hyperfashionist that they waited far too long for. An au where hannibal is not a cannibal and is actually nice to people. Can also be read here if youd like to give kudos or comment!

also thank you to @grahaam for betaing. and @jadegreenworks for the advice! and to @avidreadr2004 for encouraging me!

Friendship is a profound thing. It sneaks up sometimes, nestling itself. Making itself comfortable in the corners of your mind, slowly taking up more room. It was beginning to occupy a whole room of Hannibal’s mind palace. It’s occupant was a troubled, ornery little man that showered little and ate even less. It was not the kind of friend Hannibal envisioned having. In his mind palace, his friend would be much like him. Perhaps even a mirror of himself . If this was a mirror of himself, it was a funhouse mirror. Distorting himself into something he surely was not.

Hannibal had been patient with Will. More patient than anyone had ever been before- much to Will’s disdain. Despite his best attempts, his snappy remarks and attempts to shove him away, Hannibal had just smiled patiently or given him a quick retort. Hannibal tended not to be a patient man, contrary to what is expected from a psychiatrist. There was something special happening to Hannibal. In all his reserved, disconnected, surgical precision. He was becoming attached. A foreign but not unwelcome concept.

He’d invited himself over for dinner at Will’s house. It was dirty and the dogs were hairy, but it didn’t seem fair that Will was always the one to make the drive from Wolf Trap to Baltimore. He’d brought his own ingredients, not trusting what he might find in Will’s pantry, or more what he wouldn’t find. If only there was a feasible way to bring one’s own stove as well. Will’s was disappointingly but unsurprisingly pitiful, hardly holding a flame. He made do, noting the film of dust that had settled on it.

“A microwave connoisseur?” he asked, smiling softly. Will seemed embarrassed, and he rubbed his stubbly chin absently,

“Unfortunately not. It’s just as dusty.” He avoided his eyes as he spoke, and Hannibal just nodded slowly. If he didn’t use the stove, or the microwave. What was he using? “I’m not starving. Don’t worry. I just tend to eat out, order in… or just skip it.” Hannibal made a face. All of those choices were disgusting.

“That’s not good, Will. Diet is important.” Before he could continue, with an anecdote or a story, Will cut him off,

“I don’t need the lecture, thank you. Some nights my appetite is off.” He drank his dinner some nights. After long days where his thoughts were scrambled, and he lost who he was. “Is it cold in here to you?” he asked, rubbing his arms absently. Hannibal assumed he was trying to change the subject, until he saw him physically shudder. Without a thought, he reached forward and felt his forehead.

“You do feel warm.” he noted, “Have you been feeling well?” He wasn’t aware he had invaded his space until Will ducked away. Hannibal was ignorant to his need to feel Will’s flesh against his own until his hand was left empty. A small, worried expression just faintly tilted his features down.

“I’ve been feeling... “ There was a pause, and Hannibal waited patiently. Always patient. Drove Will insane. He had to decide whether honesty would be his best policy. “I haven’t been feeling myself. Like I’m fading.” He admitted, noting to himself it was quite a dramatic way to put it. Hannibal just inclined his head in thought, before nodding once.

As he began serving them plates, he looked to Will, “Perhaps some Tylenol for now, for the fever.” Hannibal recognized Will’s natural scent, but something heavy hung within it. It was a sickly, sweet smell. Fever, but something more than that. Inflammation, but he couldn’t smell exactly where from at his current position. It was difficult enough to get physically close to Will. Though as of recent, their personal bubbles were becoming smaller. Chairs moving closer, standing side by side at the ghastly crime scenes. Hannibal sometimes irrationally felt they should be holding hands.

Will had complied, and took his tylenol. “You shouldn’t be here, if I have a fever. I could be contagious.” He murmured in his sad little way. A tone that told Hannibal he wanted him to stay, but out of politeness, or perhaps fear, was asking him to leave.

“I don’t think you’re contagious, Will. You aren’t coughing, or sneezing. Besides I can boast of a very adept immune system after working in a hospital for years.” He offered him his plate, and watched him go sit in an armchair near the coffee table. What human-being didn’t own a table? Though Hannibal figured if you basically lived through filter feeding the air, it really wasn’t necessary, now was it. It still shook him to his core.

“Perhaps I will buy him one…” A surprising thought, that he quickly tucked away. Although he did sometimes splurge on others, it wasn’t often. Certainly not on patients. Their doctor-patient relationship was quickly dismantling into something else though.

Talk was cheap over their food, and then a long silence settled over them. Will continued to shiver on occasion, and Hannibal kept a close eye on him. He’d be setting an appointment for him with a specialist. His fingers had a firm grasp still within the world of medicine, and it wasn’t difficult for him to pull a few strings to get prompt care. He figured it was no different if it meant care for a patient of his.

Life had never dealt Will Graham the fair hand. Almost every decision in his life had lead to roadblocks and further sinking into the mire. Sinking sand. A fun fact about sinking sand, however, is that you don’t sink very much at all. In fact, it’s unlikely you’d sink farther than your waist. You can get plenty stuck, but you won’t truly drown in it. That was the state of Will Graham’s life. Waist deep in the sinking sand of his mind, his condition. Trudging along for meager scraps of food and water. Little tidbits of happiness and peace.

He had learned in the jungle of his mind that low hanging fruit was often poisonous. If it was easy to reach, it was too good to be true. The best fruit, was hard to reach. Maybe impossible. He was unaware that not only was the best apple hanging low, but disguised as an obstacle.

Hannibal invaded his space, touched his things, made faces at his dogs, silently chastised his living conditions. Hannibal did all the things Will Graham hated. Yet, he wasn’t pushing him out. Giving him ‘subtle’ signals it was time to go. No mentions of it being late, of the dogs needing to be walked or other nonsense. Despite what could be marked an awkward silent. Nothing but the sound of metal against porcelain to break it. The truth was, despite the intrusion. The judgement. He liked that the chair beside him was occupied. The space was filled. He felt he could feel the energy buzzing beside him, a warm glow against his face. In his imagination, in his own mind palace, that is how they looked. In a sense it could be said that Hannibal was radiant.

It helped that the food was good. The food was always good. He ate it even when he wasn’t hungry. He ate it when he was even feeling sick . Perhaps it was his need to please. Perhaps he was so desperate for some companionship that he would subject himself to a sore belly. Or maybe it was that he was hungry a lot more often than he would admit to himself. Whatever the case. The food was good.

“It’s good.” Will finally said, just for the sake of breaking the silence. This seemed to please Hannibal, as he settled back in his seat a bit more.

“Thank you, Will. Roast chicken with fennel Panzanella. Not my most complicated meal.”

“I appreciate that. My palette hasn’t been able to handle much recently.” It was half of an admission. He hadn’t been eating, except for fast food and on occasion, some noodles. He was assuming it was from the strain of work. He was going too deep, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to get back to the shallows. He knew he could reach for Hannibal. He could, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t need help. He wasn’t intaking water just yet.

He should have made the phone call by now. His pride kept him from it. He fidgeted with the phone, then fidgeted with his schedule. He checked one more time at the page with Will’s name on it. Will was missing. Late actually. He was now twenty minutes late. He was always prompt, early usually. Missing. He finally picked up the phone. He should have just charged his insurance for a late fee. Failure to call. Something. But no, instead he called. His brows furrowed in worry as it rang. He got a full mailbox. Not surprising, Will was that type of person not to ever check his voicemail, and not pay attention to if it was full or not. He tried once more, then went to start the paperwork for a late penalty. He pulled out the forms from his desk, and stared at them. He was holding the pen over the paper, but he didn’t let it touch. Something wasn’t right. He set the pen down, and abandoned the papers. He got his coat, and headed out.

On his way out of the office, after locking up, he called Jack. He didn’t know where Will was either. He would start his search at Will’s house. It would be a long drive. It could be for naught He needed to try. It would turn out he wouldn’t have to bother. As he unlocked his car, a very flustered looking, sweaty Will was rushing towards him.

“I’m late, I’ll pay the fee.” Will said, obviously embarrassed about his tardiness. Hannibal gazed at him, and he would have probably given him a snipped remark. He didn’t. Will wasn’t wearing shoes. He had no jacket. His feet were covered in mud.

“Will, what have you been doing?” He asked cautiously, watching him shiver. Was it from the cold outside, or from the fevered heat he could smell rolling off of him. It couldn’t wait anymore. He started back up to his office, and Will followed, stumbling out an explanation.

“I was at my house, with the dogs. I let them out. I heard something in the woods. Like one of them were hurt and then I-” he stopped abruptly mid sentence, in realization. “I don’t know what happened after that. I must have driven here. I don’t remember.”

Hannibal listened, then nodded. “Will, I’m calling a doctor. He’s a friend of mine. He will help.” Will recoiled at the thought. He didn’t like doctors. He was poked and prodded enough growing up. He didn’t want anymore. But he was really falling apart. Taking in water. He had to reach for Hannibal.

He quite literally had to, stumbling on a step, and falling into him. Hannibal caught him in strong arms, swaying just slightly on the steps.

“Arm on me.” Hannibal ordered, in a way that made it seem Will didn’t have a chance at arguing. He put his arm on his shoulder, and they made it the rest of the way to his office. Hannibal gently set him down, then got his phone to make his call. He pulled some strings, called in some favors. Despite it being well after hours for his friend, they would be meeting him within the hour at the hospital.

Will was still reluctant to go. He was arguing against it. If one could even call it an argument. Hannibal hardly spoke, just gave orders.

“I’m not getting poked and prodded.” He announced stubbornly, even as Hannibal prepared Will’s file to be taken with them, records of his descent into what Will felt was pure madness. Hearing voices, sounds, losing time, waking up with police lights blinding him.

“You won’t be poked and prodded. You will have an MRI done, and if that is inconclusive, some blood tests.” He explained. “Now, please draw a clock for me.” Will’s eyes rolled childishly, but he drew the clock. For some reason he felt cocky about it. Draw a clock, what a stupid thing to ask. He drew a regular old clock, or at least what he thought was a regular clock. He was unaware it was completely distorted, hardly recognizable if it weren’t for the numbers jumbled together. Hannibal tucked his clock drawing in his file he was preparing. “You are very sick, Will. You can refuse treatment, but I can’t advise it. I would appreciate it greatly it if you would accompany me to see this doctor. He is very professional, and is renowned for his skill.”

Will usually wasn’t a fan of bargaining. He could sense Hannibal’s urgency though. He felt compelled to give in. He was silent for a few moments, rubbing his scruffy face in distress. He didn’t want to go, but he wanted to. Well, he wanted to please Hannibal. Not for the greater good, or because it would save someone’s life. He just wanted to make him happy, though he hesitated to admit it to himself.

“Fine, I’ll go.” he relented finally, and for a brief moment he could see the relief all over Hannibal’s face and whole body. His shoulders relaxed, a soft sigh left him, and his face softened.

“Thank you. We should go then. I will drive.”

“Don’t trust my driving?”

“It’s important I stay honest with you, Will. I don’t trust you are capable of driving right now. No.”

With a melancholy smile, he nodded, “I get it. Fair enough.”

Hannibal met Dr. Sutcliffe at the door, and he ushered them to the MRI room. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Hannibal.” he reminded him, which of course made Hannibal smile.

“Of course, thank you for your time. I can tell you, it will be worth it.” He reassured, glancing to Will. He was looking pale and tired. He felt bad for him. He felt compassion despite all his training to disconnect. He couldn’t disconnect from Will. He was becoming attached.

Once in the MRI room, Hannibal gently walked Will through the process, but it seemed he was aware of how it worked already. He would have to pry later.

“You still haven’t told me what you think is wrong with me.” Will’s head turned to him as he adjusted himself in his lying position. Hannibal met his eyes, and his gut jumped. They were filled with fear. Vulnerable and open. He reached to grasp his hand, holding it tightly in his own. Will didn’t recoil, but instead squeezed it.

“It’s nothing I won’t fix.” He reassured. He finally realized what was happening to him. Something he thought himself incapable of. After losing so much, and learning to be disconnected from his emotions, for both his surgical and psychiatric career. It was inconvenient, unprofessional. It completely broke every code of ethics. He was falling in love with his patient. He was falling in love with Will Graham.

#fanfiction #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannigram #my writing #commission

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verymostgood · 3 years

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One Morning One Day

One morning Baltimore

Notes on as if

Sentences are for commuting

And load times the way to work

How far how far

That we question apple cores

Or squander science

Or silence Spring

How far how relative so far and nowhere

And then one evening, Amherst

via Blogger https://ift.tt/3so6QAI

#IFTTT #Blogger

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kmalexander · 3 years

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Gleam Upon the Soundtrack

In the past, I’ve released my book playlists before the launch of the book. These tend to be inspiration playlists, not the music I find myself writing to. (If you’re interested in a “writing playlist,” let me know in the comments! I’d be happy to assemble something. There’s very much a “type” of music I listen to when writing a Bell Forging Cycle book.) Since Gleam Upon the Waves has been out for a little over a week, I thought I’d go a step further and not only share the playlist but give a few details, why I chose particular songs, and how I felt they reflected (and inspired) aspects of the story.

First, the playlist! Jam out, roaders.

Not a Spotify fan? The playlist is also over on YouTube.

SPOILER WARNING

The following details will contain Gleam Upon the Waves spoilers. So, if you’re still reading, I’d recommend avoiding the rest of this post until after you finished the book. For the rest of you, let’s head deeper into the playlist.

Prologue

Sons and Daughters – American Spirit

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Sleep now child beneath The heavy current Dragging you along

This was the song that inspired this book. Something about life dragging you through the wringer without caring about your desires or plans cemented itself inside my head (even well before 2020.)

Chapter 1 & 2

Baltimore Blues No. 1 – Deer Tick

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Can you hear the sound of the crawling flesh Now can you smell the burning desire This place is too small to hide All the ghosts that’s kicking around inside

There’s something gritty to this Deer Tick song. I felt it was a nice pairing to Wal putting on airs and wearing suits—despite his intentions, he can’t hide who he is. His problems will not disappear. Lovat devours.

Chapter 3

Gates of Dawn – Heartless Bastards

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I have awoken The footsteps sound of thunder

While this tune more positive than Wal’s experience, I thought opening a new reality deserved a song that had a similar impact. I’m also a sucker for Erika Wennerstrom’s vocals. (Probably why Heartless Bastards make an appearance a little later.)

Chapter 1-3

How Deep Is The Ocean – Miles Davis

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Like I wouldn’t include this in an ocean-themed playlist.

Chapter 4

bury a friend – Billie Eilish

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Why aren’t you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

I had this chapter in my head since Red Little World. I also read it for Dead Drop Live last week. I loved the idea of Ashton being this ghost that haunts Wal—an echo of his past. One he weirdly cares about despite understanding that he’s an enemy. Eilish’s pop-minimalism just felt right for a decoupled avatar whom you may or may not want dead.

Chapter 5

Wild and Wasted Waters – Kill It Kid

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Wild and wasted waters Have come to carry me on

For something so deadly, humans have an odd fascination with water. Also, this song fits with Wal being entirely out of his element. It’s helped by the Alan Lomax sample that works too well as an undercurrent for the story happening to Wal.

Chapter 6 & 7

Blood on your Bootheel – Caroline Rose

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Think if you act like a man, you can alter this wheel; You can make it in this world without that blood on your bootheels

“Altering the wheel” is something Wal has attempting for a while (since Old Broken Road, if we’re honest,) but he can’t change his destiny. He can kick against the goads as much as he wants, but fate will drag him along whether he wants it or not.

Chapter 8

‘Round Midnight – Thelonious Monk

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No lyrics, but man what a song. (If you haven’t noticed, any of the jazz numbers I call out in the books end up in my playlists.)

Chapter 9 & 10

Glitter & Gold – Barns Courtney

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Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark The dark, the dark, the dark

Wal’s damn lucky for a guy that can’t escape his reality, eh? There’s also an element of foreshowing here. With the cult’s interest Wal can’t escape his past just like he can’t escape fate.

Chapter 11

Lovecraft in Brooklyn – The Mountains Goats

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Someday something’s coming From way out beyond the stars To kill us while we stand here It’ll store our brains in mason jars

If you’ve read the last three books, it should be obvious why I included this one. Also, John Darnielle is a national treasure and should be protected at all costs.

Chapter 12, 13, & 14

Sirens – Lola Marsh

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In a million years It’ll all be over Within a million years It’ll all be over

Yael Shoshana Cohen’s voice is incredible. There is a vastness in this song that matched the tone of the Wasteland. It also deals with time on an epic scale, and that’s something I appreciated—it’s cosmicy without being overt.

Chapter 15

Postcards From Hell – The Wood Brothers

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I got a soul that I won’t sell And I don’t read postcards from hell

I hope you caught how Gleam Upon the Waves reflects the other stories up until this point. Wal waking in a hospital and pushing himself out of bed is awfully familiar. Despite what he’s faced with, Wal tends not to stop. He’s relentless. Tell him things are bad, and he keeps going. His tenacity is admirable, if not a bit foolish.

Chapter 16 & 17

Wicked Waters – Benjamin Booker

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This must be where I lose it all, darling Throw myself into wicked waters

Again, water. Maybe our pal acted a bit too rashly?

Chapter 18

Ding Ding Dong – Waipod Petchsuphan

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For all its familiarity, Empress is a foreign place, and Wal is a stranger. This poppy Thai luk thung track from ’76 sparked similar emotions for me. It’s familiar, borrowing from common themes, but at the same time it’s different from other music of the era. It’s also a bop.

Chapter 19

Hello, Darling – Conway Twitty

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Hello darlin’, nice to see you, it’s been a long time

Should be fairly obvious.

Chapter 20

Figure It Out – Royal Blood

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Nothing better to do When I’m stuck on you And still I’m here Trying to figure it out

This is a fairly big reveal, and while the theme of the song is related to Wal’s relationship with Essie, it’s even more complicated. “Figuring it out” is kinda a thing here, see?

Chapter 21, 22, & 23

You Want it Darker – Leonard Cohen

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There’s a lullaby for suffering And a paradox to blame But it’s written in the scriptures And it’s not some idle claim You want it darker We kill the flame

Cohen’s last album deals with death and loss, there’s a heaviness to it, and it felt fitting for this section of the book.

Chapter 24, 25, 26

Mean Old World – Big Bill Broonzy

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This is a mean old world to live in, I’m just travelin’ through It’s a mean old world to live in, I’m just travelin’ through Yes, sometime I get so blue, that I don’t know what to do

Another one that should be obvious. Poor Wal. Who’s the jerk that subjects him to this?

Chapter 27 & 28

Madness – Ruelle

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Nowhere to run from all of this havoc Nowhere to hide From all of this madness, madness, madness

Eventually, you can only experience so much before it all just begins to break down.

Chapter 29 & 30

Sway – Heartless Bastards

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So, I stumble and I sway into the room and I fade I hope my darkest day are behind me I want to stay here in the sun for a while I hope my darkest days are behind me

There’s a spark of hope here, and I feel like there’s a spark of hope in these chapters as well. Yes, two Heartless Bastard songs in this playlist. You’re going to have to deal.

Chapter 31

Remains – Algiers

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While the captors boast On how they lower your costs The rich men gamble At the foot of the cross

When you make a decision, you need to be ready to deal with the outcome.

Chapter 32

Revival – Soulsavers

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Why am I so blind With my eyes wide open, oh? Trying to get my hands Clean in dirty water

A song about people doing something they feel is right even though reality clashes with that desire, and somehow, at their core, they know it. If that doesn’t fit the Deeperists, I don’t know what would.

Chapter 33 & 34

The Church Bell’s Moan – Bror Gunnar Jansson

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Don’t you hear them?

Ring the bell and eventually they’ll come.

Chapter 35 & 36

Get Loud for Me – Gizzle

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I see my goal and get cold as December when Counting our sins, I don’t have no friends I came here to win, my start is your end Now let it begin now

FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. Also, this is such a great reflection of the previous song that I had to include it.

Chapter 37 & 38

The End – Kings of Leon

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This could be the end This could be the end This could be the end This could be the end ‘Cause I ain’t got a home

A song about change and facing that change. Felt like a fitting end to this playlist.

Chapter 37 & 38… again

I See A Darkness – Johnny Cash & Bonnie “Prince” Billy

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And did you know how much I love you Is a hope that somehow you you Can save me from this darkness?

Wait, never mind. This is even more fitting.

Chapter 37 & 38… for real this time

The Parting Glass – Hozier

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Of all the comrades that ere I had, they’re sorry for my going away, And of all the sweethearts that ere I had, they wish me one more day to stay, But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not, I will gently rise and I’ll softly call, “Goodnight and joy be with you all!”

No… this one.

So, that’s Gleam Upon the Soundtrack, a Gleam Upon the Waves playlist! I hope everyone enjoyed a glimpse into my musical inspirations. It’s really fun to assemble these things and reflect on why particular songs spoke to me over another. I totally understand why other authors do it as well. This isn’t the only playlist I’ve made for my novels, you can check out the other ones here.

Once again, thanks to everyone for picking up Gleam Upon the Waves. I’m really proud of it, and I hope you enjoyed your time back in the Territories. If you haven’t nabbed your copies yet, you can do so from any of the links below.

Buy the paperback:

Amazon – Barnes & Noble

Buy the eBook:

Kindle – Kobo – Nook – Apple Books – GooglePlay

Finally, if you’ve finished Gleam, please leave an honest review, and if you liked it, tell your friends! Thank you for making Gleam Upon the Waves one of the books you chose to read this year. Time is finite and it’s an honor you decided to spend some of yours with my book.

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recommendedlisten · 4 years

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Album Review: Dummy - ‘EP2′

Former members of the Baltimore shoegaze band Wildhoney reemerged over the summer on the opposite side of the coast as the four-piece Dummy. The band’s membership, which includes Wildhoney guitarist Joe Trainor as well as guitarist and vocalist Nathan O’Dell are now joined by vocalist and keyboardist Emma Maatman and drummer Alex Ewell, and swathed in a colorful psychedelia and experimental pop asymmetry. On their debut release, their self-titled EP, their sound played like a welcome departure from today’s indie rock guitar standards by favoring non-linear dream sequences instead, akin to the sounds of Stereolab, Deerhunter, and Broadcast.

The past year’s pandemic has at least offered one unintentional upside for the project: Dummy went right back to creating at home and have already recorded their follow-up, their second EP aptly entitled EP2. Over the course of six collages, the Los Angeles band continues evolving their own sonicsphere through an exploration of feedback-laced pop music touched by a kaleidoscope of experimental sounds based on new age elements, ambient Japanese music, and video game soundtracks.

Opener “Thursday Morning” awakens EP2 by peering through open space in its first half with just Ewell’s voice flanked by Maatman’s sunrise echoes before light breaks through with hopes of a new day. On “Pool Dizzy”, the four paint the world in periwinkle and cosmic paisley, warding off any darker energies from bleeding in as a feedback loop of keys conjure hypnosis and electricity squeezes any building tension from its center at its climax. From there, the EP’s energy splinters into its own weird limbs, as “Nuages” makes contact with alien frequencies via vintage drones while “Mediocre Garden” returns those messages back to Earth in the form of light particle matter densely populating the atmosphere.

Dummy sends one last round of communication signals into the unknown universe with “Second Contact”, a spacious, fragmented piece formed by ambiguous vocal affects and the occasional ping of electrical current. For two whole minutes, it almost feels like none of those sounds will reach any one destination, until they collect in the same space again on EP2′s closer “Prime Mover Unmoved”. The track sounds like you are being pulled into the birth of a star, with synths beaming into a core as the listen begins to take shape. “Every time I think I’m fine / Troubles come to mind,” Maatman sings in ellipses, interwoven by other thoughts and voices combing their way in from all corners of the universe. We hear new signs of life through Dummy, and though uncertainty reveals itself to be the only thing known in their discovery, it fuels the band’s continued exploration as well.

EP2 by Dummy

Dummy’s EP2 will be released November 6th on Born Yesterday Records. Physical | Apple Music | Bandcamp | Spotify

#albums #dummy #born yesterday records

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