#just chugging along and never actually finishing a fic

[stvrmhondss]

it was breaking down (it was falling in love) snippet

max/charles 3.1k words

this is from a wip that is currently in development. we're in 2025, charles and max are fighting each other for the championship for the first time since 2022. max, as always, in red bull. charles, by the grace of god, still in ferrari. it gets complicated.

The party after the last race before summer break isn’t a tradition officially, but somehow there’s always been one; a simple text in the drivers’ group chat letting them know that xyz and I are getting drinks later, you’re all welcome to join and when the rest of them show up to the address provided, there’s somehow always an entire house rented and seemingly bottomless drinks. It’s one of those mysteries of F1 that Charles thinks he’ll never crack.

For the past few years the summer break kickoff has been an opportunity for him to celebrate, not in a let’s raise a glass to a good first half of the season way, but more of a thank god that’s over kind of way. It had always consisted of systematically knocking back glass after glass until he’d been drunk enough to let whatever girlfriend he’d had at the time drag him onto the dancefloor, if he’d had one at the time.

(He always did.)

(Except this year)

For the first time in his F1 career, Charles is leading the championship at the start of the summer break and instead of forcing every driver and his own mechanics to have a drink with him, he’s making himself as small and invisible as possible in a corner, right beside a potted palm tree that straddles the line between looking extremely well cared for and extremely fake. He’s been nursing the same cocktail for almost an hour and has avoided every driver, staffer or intern who wanted to drink to his championship charge. He’s not in the mood. He’s even managed to chase away Alex and Lily to the bar, if just temporarily, his teammate vowing to get him another round to pull him out his funk.

Instead he’s been letting his gaze roam over the open floor, taking note of the people there and pretending he isn’t looking for Max. It’s going semi-well. Charles hadn’t seen him when he’d entered the house with Alex and he hasn’t spotted him since. He’s also been too much of a coward to just grab someone, another driver or a stray Red Bull intern, and ask them whether they’d seen him, whether he’s even here at all. Maybe, it’s for the best – he wouldn’t know what to say to Max anyway. Have you tried a simple ‘I’m sorry’? The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Pierre and it has him take a long sip from his glass.

The horrible thing is, Pierre is right. He should really apologise, but it’s been so long since their fight in Monaco and the silence between them has gotten so loud, he wouldn’t know where to start. He’s also not entirely sure Max wouldn’t just walk away from him if he were to approach him now. Hence his hiding in the corner.

After emptying his glass, he looks around the room again. He spots Lewis on the dance floor, chatting up a model he knows for a fact is too young for him. A little ways off to the side he sees Lando hanging off of his Max’s shoulders and Charles tries valiantly to ignore the ugly twisting of his insides. It reminds him of Imola, just a few short months ago – how Max had told him to let go for once and had stood vigil as he’d gotten drunk and celebrated his first win on Italian soil since 2019, how Max had let him cling to him when he hadn’t been able to stand upright on his own anymore and then had called them both a taxi and had gotten him home. Funny how he’d managed to ruin it all with a single sentence.

Charles is pulled out of his thoughts by wild waving in his periphery and when he turns his head he spots Pierre over by a window with his new girlfriend, whose name Charles had forgotten the minute he’d been introduced to her, obviously trying to get his attention. Confused, he shakes his head and mouths a What? in his direction, to which Pierre starts pointing in the direction of the door in response, an insistent look on his face. Charles turns his head just in time to see Daniel Ricciardo enter the party and he’d wonder about seeing him here when he’d given up his AlphaTauri seat last year in favour of a go in Indycar, if following right behind him wasn’t—

Max.

Charles watches as they’re stopped by multiple people on their way in – there’s plenty of hugs for Daniel and claps on the shoulder for Max – and make a beeline for the impromptu bar. Daniel sees him about halfway there and Charles fights and consequently loses against the urge to shrink in on himself when the instinctive smile he throws at everyone turns into a scowl at the sight of him. So, Max had told him then. Charles doesn’t know what else he’d expected.

(Not this. He hadn’t even known they were still close.)

Max doesn’t look at him once.

He should stop staring, knows it very well won’t help his case in any way, but his eyes stay glued to Max’s form, taking him in – blonde hair, blue eyes, standard white t-shirt and jeans. All viewed from afar, as has become standard over the past few weeks. Charles wants to kick himself. He wonders what would happen if he were to throw aside his pride and cowardice and go over to him now, if he asked to speak to him, to explain. Would Max even spare him a glance? Would he frown and grumble and tell him to fuck off? Would Daniel’s scowl become more severe and would he tell him to get lost?

He doesn’t plan on finding out.

So he watches. Watches as Daniel leans exaggeratedly over the bar to order some drinks and then back to whisper something in Max’s ear that has him laugh in that full-body way of his – head thrown back and hands clasped together, then bending forward, eyes crinkled at the corners and nose scrunched up. Full of delight, full of life. When Max seems to have calmed down a little he moves closer to Daniel, a mischievous look on his face, no doubt saying something just as cheeky in return, and Charles sees Daniel break out in one of his honking laughs before throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in. Just for a moment, Max rests his head on his shoulder and Daniel turns his face into his hair. Just for a moment. Blink and you miss it.

And Charles? Well, Charles wants to die.

Alex and his tray full of drinks are a godsend, Lily clearing the way for him as they come back to join him in his miserable corner, and Charles grabs a glass and knocks it back before Alex even has a chance to put the tray down. When he puts the glass back down, Lily lets out a hoot, slapping the table, while Alex scoffs at him goodnaturedly.

“Were you raised in a barn, mate?” He’s chuckling, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “Where I’m from, you wait until everyone has a glass and then you drink like your life depends on it.” Next to him, Lily cackles, pressing the next drink into his hand and then grabbing one for herself.

“Sorry,” he’s not, really, only tangentially in the way that Alex has been a good sport ever since his fight with Max, letting him be miserable and not making him explain why, and Charles feels bad for making him put up with his bad mood when it’s his first season in the team and he should be having fun instead of babysitting him. But then again, misery and Ferrari go hand in hand and Alex should probably learn to live and work with that, if he wants to survive in the team.

Charles’ fingers itch for another drink.

“Oh, who cares?” Lily raises her glass and waits for them to mirror her. “Let’s fucking party!”

Right before he knocks back his drink, Charles spares another glance over to Max and Daniel, just to see, just because he’s feeling curious and maybe a little masochistic, pressing a finger into an open wound. What he sees makes him down half of the contents of his tall glass all at once – Max is fully pressed into Daniel’s side, Daniel’s arm around his waist, fingers on that tantalising dip of it that Charles had found himself staring at more than once, and Daniel’s once again leaning in, whispering something into his ear that makes him smile. Charles wants to throw up.

He loses track of how much he drinks after that.

One, two, ten hours later, he looks up from his fourth – twelfth? – glass and sees Max making his way over to and up a stairwell that he vaguely remembers leads to a balcony. He’s alone, Daniel nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, he excuses himself from the table and stumbles over to follow him before Alex and Lily can protest. The way up the stairs is perilous and he has to cling to the bannister to hold himself upright, hoping he’s not making so much noise he gives himself away. 

When he finally reaches the balcony, he finds it miraculously empty, except for Max, standing at the railing and looking out into the night. A few lanterns bathe him in soft, warm light and Charles’ heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He’s so beautiful, always has been in his own way, the charmingly gangly, awkward teenage limbs turned strong and broad, handsome. Growing up alongside Max had been complicated and a little painful – at 15 years old, how do you know you hate the guy you’re competing against because of his dirty tricks and raw talent and not because his eyes are as blue as a summer sky? How do you know your palms are sweaty because of the adrenaline of a good fight on track and not because he smirked at you right before he put his helmet on? They’re questions Charles has never quite managed to answer and is keenly reminded of now at 27 years old, standing on a balcony somewhere in Belgium with his heart beating out of his chest at the mere sight of Max. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have a clear answer. 

His drunken lean to the side has him knock over a decorative cat figurine with a loud clang, startling Max in front of him like a deer hearing a sudden noise in what it had assumed to be an empty clearing. He whips around and when he sees Charles trying to right himself, an unhappy scowl settles on his pretty lips.

“What do you want, Charles?”

I want to go back in time and smack myself for what I said to you. I want you to smile at me like you used to, like you smiled at Daniel and I don’t know what that means. I want us to be okay. I want to win and I want you by my side when I do. I want us to be alright.

“Nothing, I just—,” he’s pretty sure he’s slurring, which seems to not be helping his case as Max’s expression doesn’t lighten. In fact, it does the opposite, making Charles trail off, falling quiet as Max looks at him expectantly. He doesn’t remember what he’d originally wanted to say, so instead he throws out the first thing that comes to his mind after Your eyes have the colour of a storm I once saw while out at sea.

“You haven’t talked to me since Monaco,” it’s meant as an explanation, but once the words leave his mouth, they sound like an accusation. Max’s frown deepens, his eyebrows furrowing and the corners of his mouth pulling further down. A little more and he’d be pouting. It’s one of the things that’s never changed about him, Charles ponders idly. That stormy, unhappy frown. The only difference between a 27 year old and a 13 year old Max Verstappen frowning at him is a missing, involuntary flush to his cheeks and the lack of acne. The other boys had always made fun of him for it back then – how easily he’d flush, how quickly he’d get irritated. Charles had never minded either; he’d thought it made Max seem more alive.

Now, Max looks alive in a primordial sense, the way the earth itself is – burning, blazing, vengeful.

“Well, I wonder why,” his voice is venomous, face twisted in an ugly sneer, “I wonder why I would not be speaking to you after Monaco.”

Charles feels helpless, like a fumbling child. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—“ But he doesn’t know how to actually express what he wants to say, his mind foggy and slow. He wants to curse Alex for bringing that entire tray of drinks to the table. 

He continues to stutter, without saying anything of worth, and he can see Max is losing what little patience he’d had to begin with and – yes, there’s that angry, red flush that’s been missing in his cheeks before.

“Do you actually have anything to say to me,” Max’s shoulders are heaving, his breath heavy, “or do you just want to waste my time and stand here, staring at me like a drunk idiot?”

It’s meant to cut him and it does; Charles flinches from the impact, sure that if he were to raise his fingers to his cheek, they’d come away bloody. The thing is, he has so much to say, so many things that have been long overdue, that he should’ve said months, maybe years ago, but now that he has Max in front of him, in all his furious beauty, his brain can’t put the words in order, can’t form the sentences he needs to say to salvage whatever he had, could’ve had, with Max. The alcohol isn’t helping either.

In his drunken stupidity, he says the worst thing he could possibly say in this moment.

“I saw you with Daniel, earlier.”

It’s horrible, it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever said. It does nothing to convey what he actually wants Max to hear, instead he manages to make it sound like an accusation again when all he’d wanted to say was I saw you with Daniel earlier and you looked happy, happier than you have over the past few weeks and I wanted to kick myself for being the source of your sadness, when I only want to see you smile and laugh and be joyful. 

Max’s face is wrathful, his breath quickening and Charles isn’t quite sure whether he’s just imagining the thunder he hears in the distance.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” his voice is tight, controlled and shaking with white hot rage. Charles resists the urge to flinch. He deserves Max’s anger and he’ll take it. He’ll take anything Max is still willing to give him.

“I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and yet you complain about me not talking to you when you haven't even tried to speak with me. I thought you needed time to cool off, so I gave you space, of course, but you keep insisting on this childish grudge over nothing. You ignore me, give me the cold shoulder, and say to the press that we’re not friends when I did nothing you wouldn’t have done if you’d been in my place. Mind you, I didn’t even say anything to the media when I damn well should’ve, but of course, you still find something to complain about.”

Max is panting and the toll this entire conversation is having on him is evident in the pinched corners of his mouth, however, he doesn’t seem to be done just yet.

“And now, for the first time in what feels like ages, I’m having a fun night and you decide to pester me and complain about me spending it with Daniel, when it’s none of your business? When you and I, as you’ve insisted, are nothing?”

Charles reels back from the impact as if Max had physically slapped him across the face. You and I are nothing. He sees champagne showers in Australia. You and I are nothing. Breaking into the Circuit de Monaco at night. You and I are nothing. Max scaring everyone into packing their phones away when Charles had been drunk and without inhibitions in Imola. You and I are nothing. Dancing in the streets of Miami at night.

You and I are nothing.

It’s terrible.

He deserves it.

Max prepares to breeze past him back inside and Charles instinctively grabs onto his arm to make him stay, to make him not leave him. His movements are slow and his grip as weak as a kitten, Max could shake him off easily, but he doesn’t. He glares at him, a fire raging in his eyes, and opens his mouth to undoubtedly berate him again. Deliriously, Charles remembers that the hottest flames burn blue.

Before he can think better of it, his lips fit themselves over Max’s, quelling any upcoming rant. Any rational or coherent thought dies out in his mind and when he tries to think of any reasons why this is the worst thing he could do, he gets as far as Max’s lips are soft before he loses the thread and closes his eyes.

Horribly, Charles feels a startled hum against his lips and then Max is leaning in, letting him carefully cradle his face with his free hand. He’s even allowed to deepen the kiss, sneaking his tongue past Max’s lips and sliding his hand in his hair, and for an exhilarating moment he has Max in the palms of his hands, warm and lovely, and he wants to keep him like this for as long as he’s allowed to.

When Max recoils from his touch, it’s with enough force to send him stumbling backwards. The look on his face is devastating when Charles opens his eyes again. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes – anger, disappointment, fear, pain. Charles feels monstrous. His mouth opens and closes several times, but no words make it out alive. 

To Charles’ horror, there’s tears pooling at the corners of Max’s eyes. Regret is a bitter, nasty thing to swallow and he knows his face must be doing something complicated and sad. He finds his voice in the most inopportune of moments.

“Max, I—,” he sounds scratchy and choked up, even to his own ears, and Max doesn’t let him get any further, storming past him through the open balcony doors and back inside, knocking their shoulders together in his desperation to get away from him and sending Charles careening into a potted plant. As he picks his way out of the leaves, he hears a door slam inside.

Charles looks up at the stars and wishes that just for once, he wouldn’t ruin everything he loves.

[zarla-s]

Man it's been a long time since I've done an ask cluster! Let's see if I can get some down...

He's an extremely fun character to write for and play with! So in that sense I'm fond of him, haha. He's such a huge disaster of a person, there's always something fun to do with him. Well "fun" in a relative sense.

I don't have anything to forgive him for, he didn't hurt me. |D He hurt the brothers!

I do have an idea for a cute feature inspired by Six-Eared Macaque! I should really sit down and do that already... and finish the one I half started but never finished...

I don't think my opinion on any of them changed! I love them all, haha. Which ones I drew comics about just depends on which ones I get ideas for really. Sometimes I get Alphys ideas and sometimes I get Goatparents ideas! Inspiration is fickle!

I don't have any solid plans or anything. :B Just gonna keep chugging along with silly comics and art! Work on Defrag and such. I'd like to finish a Ladyverse comic I've had lying around forever, and I had vague plans for doing a doujin for them too I could work on... and also seeing if I could format Handplates into a book format... I've always got a bunch of projects, haha.

It works on that level! It wasn't intentional though. |D

I do enjoy speculation! I don't really have much of my own though, I didn't predict anything in chapter 2 so now I'm assuming I can't predict anything in the future chapters either, haha.

Emesis Blue is great! Some really beautiful visuals in there, very striking! Love the mood of it too and a lot of the surreal imagery. I think it helped spur me back into TF2 again, haha. Medic and Scout's relationship was so cute.

I have thought about this! It has its share of challenges though... I outlined them more in this post. A pdf would be more doable though... could even include some extra stuff as well! Hmm...

I can see that! He'd probably spend as much time out in the rain as he could just doing whatever to stay outside.

It was pretty much always going to end like that. I always wanted it to end on a hopeful note! Which might seem weird with how dark it is at the beginning. I DID for a brief period at the very beginning of Handplates think about stopping with the Pacifist run, but that was only because I thought going where I wanted to go would take too long and already the project seemed so dauntingly huge at the time, haha. But it was always going to end in a positive way!

Gaster talks about what he originally intended to create here, and he explains a bit about the physical experiments he runs on the brothers here. They aren't really a solution in and of themselves so much as tools to try and find a way to break the barrier. Really though, Gaster got stuck in the sunk-cost fallacy lol.

I don't really have opinions about what canon Gaster would be like. |D Handplates Gaster is his own thing really. Canon Gaster, who knows! Deltarune Gaster, who knows! I will say I hope Gaster stays a mystery in Deltarune and never actually shows up but I think the odds of that are really low at this point.

I thought about doing a script along those lines! I did a few rough drafts of one, but it never really went anywhere... it'd end up dead-ending or kind of meandering off. I might see if I can get an actual script down for a side-comic or something in the future... it might be better suited for a fic.

I was just thinking about this lately! I was picturing Gaster totally forgetting about that until he sees Papyrus squinting and is like OH GOD YOUR EYES THAT'S RIGHT D: and goes to get him looked at lol.

I couldn't come up with a good idea for Flowey which is a shame, I do like him, haha. If one comes to me though I might make a little side comic about it!

Gaster's LV is complicated... his stats in-game are ludicrous if I recall correctly. Did he carry the damage from his murders into the void, even if those murders weren't his in the new timeline? Deep thoughts.

He fed them anything he could find, haha. Which is why sometimes they just ended up with chocolate bars (which he intended as dinner for himself). He probably fed them more often than he fed himself lol. He did feed them fairly regularly though.

Not about skeletons, probably. |D

Man I know I had an explanation for this but it was so long ago... it's hard for me to remember. It could be that the Riverperson is just weird and has weird insight into elements of things, had a prophetic dream... I don't know! It bugs me now that I can't remember this, haha.

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 37 🔞

Prompt: Your ex married someone else, but a drunken hookup reveals feelings still exist on both sides

Tags: Drunk sex, cheating, unprotected sex, somehow this bitch turned into a wholeass fic

A/N: Cheating fics are my guilty pleasure. Cheating fics where they find out they still love each other is basically crack for me. I don’t condone cheating or engaging in sexual activity while drunk or high IRL. The good news is this is fiction so onwards! Also you can blame Mingi’s new song for this brainrot

“Mingi?”

“Yunho?”

Mingi knew he was drunk, but he couldn’t possibly be drunk enough to hallucinate a whole person. A whole person he hadn’t seen or spoken to in 5 years. A whole person who also happened to be the love of his life.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked.

“Bar hopping for a friend’s bachelor party. What are you doing here?” Yunho asked.

“Getting drunk,” Mingi replied. Yunho stared at him for a moment then started laughing. “What?”

“I guess that is what you do at a bar. Mind if I sit?” he nodded to the seat next to Mingi.

“Go ahead,” Mingi shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t having a series of small heart attacks over seeing Yunho again.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Yunho waved at the bartender. The ring on the fourth finger of his left hand flashed in the dim light.

“You got married,” Mingi said.

“I thought you heard,” Yunho said as the bartender slid the glass over to him.

“I did, I guess I just…haven’t thought about it,” Mingi told him. Yunho had married one of the richest men in Korea so even though their mutual friend group was torn on whether or not to tell Mingi, the news did it for them. “How would he feel about you talking to your ex?”

“He’s out of the country right now. Happens a lot when you’re a big shot CEO,” Yunho replied. If Mingi didn’t know any better, Yunho’s voice had an edge to it. Mingi also noticed that Yunho dodged the question. “Jesus Christ, are you drinking lighter fluid?”

“Just cheap whiskey,” Mingi laughed.

“Good gods, I think it burned a hole in my esophagus,” Yunho coughed. Mingi gave him a few solid slaps on the back.

“That’s what happens when you get used to the expensive stuff,” he said.

“Actually I don’t really drink much these days,” Yunho replied.

“Oh,” Mingi noised. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than 24 hours without drinking. It had become a habit along with a lot of other less than desirable traits. The breakup blindsided him, the marriage less than a year later knocked him back down, and he’d stayed there ever since.

“I mean, I’ve been drinking and I’m definitely feeling it. This was better than sitting at home by myself on a Friday night,” Yunho told him.

“Yunho!” they turned around and someone Mingi didn’t recognize was waving in their direction. “We’re going to the next place!”

“Well, it was good seeing you,” Mingi said. Yunho looked at him for a moment then back at his friend.

“I’ll catch up with you. I’ll text you when I’m leaving!” he yelled back. His friend looked like he was going to argue then simply gave him a thumbs up.

“I’d rather catch up with you,” Yunho told him.

“Isn’t really much to tell,” Mingi said as he finished his drink.

“Then in that case,” Yunho forced himself to chug his drink. “Do you want to dance?”

“Dance?” Mingi repeated.

“There’s music. There’s a dance floor. I would assume that means dancing is encouraged,” Yunho said. Mingi never really noticed the dance floor. He came to this bar because it was cheap, the drinks were strong, and it was walking distance from his apartment. Before he could form a reply, Yunho had already pulled him up and had him halfway to the dance floor. He let Yunho pull their bodies together and hold on to Mingi’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho blurted out.

“For what?” Mingi asked even though he knew what Yunho was going to say.

“For breaking up with you. I should’ve at least given you a hint or a chance or something. Now I’m stuck married to someone I rarely see and when he is here I’m just arm candy if we go out. I can’t remember the last time we kissed, much less had sex. I don’t necessarily believe in fate, but I was hoping to at least make out with a stranger in a bathroom tonight,” Yunho said.

“You came out tonight intending to cheat on your husband?” Mingi asked.

“I guess so, yeah,” Yunho sighed. Mingi was stunned. He never would’ve guessed Yunho was willing to cheat. It wasn’t who he was. Of course, a lot can happen in 5 years.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider me as an option,” Mingi said. Yunho responded by kissing him. He held Mingi’s face in his hands as his tongue made its way around Mingi’s mouth. Mingi returned the kiss, pulling them even closer. Their hips were desperately grinding together. Mingi hooked up with guys regularly, but none of them could ever compare to Yunho. And it wasn’t only because he had a massive cock.

“My apartment is 2 blocks from here and I’m up for more than just making out,” Mingi said when they finally parted.

“Sounds perfect,” Yunho agreed.

“I do have to pay my tab first,” Mingi told him.

“Let me,” Yunho said. They stumbled back to the bar and Yunho pulled a black card out of his wallet. “For both of ours.”

The bartender examined the card, but this wasn’t the kind of place where people used black cards.

“Okay,” he said. The tab was paid, the card was returned, and the couple stumbled out toward Mingi’s apartment. This was beyond his wildest dreams. He’d resigned himself to never seeing Yunho again, much less touching him or kissing him. Yet here they were, making out in the elevator of his building trying not to strip each other. Through some minor miracle they made it through the door before the clothes began to come off.

“This is new,” Yunho traced the butterfly tattoo on Mingi’s neck with his lips. They’d made it to the bed and Yunho was in Mingi’s lap, both in just their underwear. “And you never used to paint your nails.”

“I guess I’m going through my emo kid phase about a decade too late,” Mingi replied, leaning back and resting his weight on his hands basking in the feeling of Yunho’s mouth on his neck. Yunho’s hands roved over Mingi’s torso like he was trying to remember the shape of it.

“I think I like it,” Yunho said.

“Good,” Mingi replied.

“So, like I said, I haven’t done this in a while, but if you want to…” Yunho began.

“No, no condoms. I get tested regularly,” Mingi cut him off.

“How do you know that was what I was going to say? I could’ve been suggesting you top,” Yunho laughed.

“Because I know you. Even after all these years, I can’t forget a single thing about you even when I wanted to. You asked every time if I wanted you to use a condom and the answer every time was no. Also, I think we both know you topping is the better option,” Mingi replied.

“You’re just saying that because I have a big dick,” Yunho kissed him.

“Maybe or maybe why change it when it works?” Mingi told him.

“Fair enough,” Yunho agreed. “Personally, I think we’ve had our underwear on way too long.”

“I agree,” Mingi nodded.

“Lie back,” Yunho instructed when Mingi handed him the lube after they were naked. He warmed it up on his fingers and slid one finger into Mingi.

“Yunho, I,” he gasped.

“Relax, let me take care of you. Let me do what I failed to do before,” Yunho replied. Mingi’s heart clenched. What he failed to do before. “I assume you’ve been taking smaller cocks?”

“I don’t need forever to be prepped,” Mingi said.

“Just confirming,” Yunho grinned down at him and was suddenly 3 fingers deep in him. Mingi grunted in surprise. “What was that about not being prepped?”

“Shut up,” Mingi glared. Yunho didn’t reply, he kept opening Mingi up.

“I think you’re ready,” Yunho declared, pulling his fingers out and watching Mingi clench around nothing.

“Yunho,” he whined.

“Don’t worry, baby. Just one more thing,” Yunho took his wedding ring off and put it on the bedside table. Then he lubed up his cock and slid into Mingi’s desperate hole.

“You’re…shit…fuck…” Mingi grunted.

“Forgot how big I was?” Yunho teased.

“Maybe,” Mingi whined.

“I’m gonna take you slow. Make you feel every inch of me. You’ll remember soon enough,” Yunho told him, bracing himself on his arms looking down at his former lover.

“Please,” Mingi whimpered.

“Of course,” Yunho began to slowly undulate his hips. As he moved, memories came flooding back. Ones Mingi thought he’d buried forever. Their first time. The time on the table at his parents’ house. Their anniversaries. Worst of all, their last time.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Yunho lied on top of him and kissed his jaw.

“I can’t let you go again. I can’t,” Mingi whispered.

“You won’t have to,” Yunho replied. “I saw you tonight and I knew. I knew I could never leave you again. I’ve been paying for leaving you every day since I did it. I hope you can forgive me.”

“You can’t say shit like that when you’re balls deep in me,” Mingi looked at him.

“Too late,” Yunho kissed him.

“Fuck me like you mean it and I’ll consider taking you back,” Mingi ran his fingers down Yunho’s face.

“Well since you put it that way,” Yunho sat up, pulled Mingi’s hips up onto his thighs, and began fucking him harder than he’d been fucked in years. Mingi didn’t even have to touch himself. Yunho could make him come on just his cock. Yunho would make him come on just his cock.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Mingi hadn’t even realized he closed them until Yunho said something. Mingi opened his eyes and they stared at each other as Yunho tipped Mingi over the edge. He didn’t know he had that much come in him. Yunho kept going until he was satisfied that Mingi was fucked dry. Then he leaned back over and with only a few more thrusts, his cock was emptying into Mingi. Mingi relaxed even more as he felt Yunho’s hot come shoot into him. Yunho rolled them over when he finished so Mingi was on top of him.

“Did you mean what you said?” Mingi asked as Yunho played with his hair.

“I did,” Yunho replied.

“But you’ll lose everything,” Mingi said.

“If by ‘everything’ you mean expensive shirts and black cards then yes, but I’ll have you back. I’ll have the only person I ever loved back,” Yunho told him. “Though I might have snuck a clause in the prenup that I’m no longer bound by NDAs if we’re divorced regardless of why so I can keep the expensive shirts and black cards even if he finds out I cheated on him. Even if that wasn’t the case, I’d rather be happy and middle class than rich and miserable.”

“I never stopped loving you, even when I wanted to,” Mingi propped his chin up on Yunho’s chest.

“I never stopped loving you either. I was just an idiot,” Yunho replied.

“Yes, yes you were,” Mingi said.

“I won’t fuck it up this time. I promise,” Yunho weaved their fingers together and kissed Mingi’s hand.

“I believe you,” Mingi smiled. “I believe you.”

[vivisols]

Sooooo... this new fic -tell me something about it (so much or so less you want to share) ;P

EHEHE GLADLY IM SO GLAD YA ASKED!!!! you dont understand how excited i am to talk about it lmao :DDDDDD

so my newest fic is.... a post apocalypse mer au!

ehehe!!! :3c i mentioned it in some of the author notes of claw at the stars and im soooo excited to actually finish chapter 1 of it!!! its only like. 30% done so far bc im playing video games non-stop on my writing break but im chugging along xD

the basic summary is that after a meteor strikes the earth (again), humanity has had to rapidly evolve to survive the harsh conditions of rising sea levels and much harsher temperatures. (id elaborate more on some science and biology stuff ive been brainstorming too but that's SPOILERS </3) more under the cut!

long story short, theres evolved people and creatures evolved from people on land and merfolk evolved from people in the sea! plus theres new languages thanks to evolving and changing vocal chords! (reallyyyy i just wanna get wacky with humanoid designs xD can you tell i like doing that yet???)

as for the fic, here's a quick summary of the very basic plot :3

a few decades after this meteor hits, the daycare attendant wakes up from an emergency shutdown in the ruins of the pizzaplex. with no telling of how many years its been, they have to pick up the pieces of where they left off and navigate this new world. with the help of y/n (dats YOU!!!), a mer who ended up on land, they slowly get their bearings and try to settle in to their new life, scrounging for parts to repair themselves in the overgrown remains of cities.

y/n has never even thought about going on land, but of course, the one time they do they have to drag around a robot that doesn't even understand what they're saying. sun and moon, meanwhile, latch onto you like a lost puppy as they try their best to learn the new language and figure out what you keep signaling to them.

(why were you on land? can't say! since, well, it would be spoilers...)

theres gonna be tons and tons of fluff and mystery and adventure and romance and LOREEEEE! all the tropes im obsessed with! and of course vanessa is here too because i love herrrr :3

anyways, i cant share toooo much besides the basic summary since i love being vague and mysterious hehehe but! im nearly done with the first chapter :3 it will likely be out sometime in january, IF not january 1st! im super motivated :3c

as a reward for listening to my way too long ramble, have this super quick concept sketch i did the other day!

again, really just a quick sketch but! you can kinda see what im going for maybe?? XD

i hope this was sufficient for now! feel free to ask for more if ya want! i LOVE talking about my ideas ;D

[kcrabb88]

Finished up the draft of the next chapter of Kill the Lights, and gahhh I'm so excited to get into the meat of this fic soon and this passage makes me happy:

Quinlan puts a smile-bright kiss by Obi-Wan's hairline in turn before filling up two glasses of water, chugging down half of his own in one fell swoop, and brings them over with a bottle he retrieves from his cabinet.   “Take this,” Quinlan says, handing Obi-Wan an over-the-counter pain killer. “You have that pinch in your forehead you’ve had since we were kids. We both know when you get a headache and let it go it just gets worse.”   Quinlan swipes the remaining half-piece of toast from Obi-Wan's plate. Obi-Wan stands up to stretch out his aching calves.  “Sore?” Quinlan asks as he eats said toast.   “Had to do quite a bit of running,” Obi-Wan replies, grasping the edge of the table and pushing his leg back. “My own fault. I hadn’t had enough water. No time for proper stretching.”  “War’s fault.” Quinlan gets up from the chair and gestures Obi-Wan over to the sofa. “Let me, yeah?”  Obi-Wan exhales when Quinlan starts massaging the sore spots. Too much running on unfriendly terrain on Ryloth. Not enough breaks for water. Going on ahead because he can use the Force for energy and the clones can’t, and he wanted to give Cody and the other men a minute, a moment, just to rest. His armor boots need to be replaced, but he’s not supposed to buy battlefield supplies with his Jedi Order stipend as he does with his usual clothing. He’s supposed to requisition them from the GAR, and Force knows, requisitioning anything for an actual soldier’s comfort is a pain in the arse. Credits for new ships? For updated weapons? Never an issue. For blankets and better rations and decent toothpaste? Too expensive. Rex and Cody say it all the time—the clone armor deteriorates with every phase.   Quinlan’s strong fingers ease the strung-tight throb Obi-Wan woke up with. They quiet the exhausted anxiety in his gut.   Home. For now, for a minute, for a second, he is home.   “Are you all right this morning?” Obi-Wan asks.   “I always sleep better with you. Less nightmares. So, yeah. I’m as good as any of us can be.”   A knock comes along with a familiar voice.   “If you two are decent can you please let me in?”   Quinlan smirks. “I’m never decent, Skywalker.”   “Quin,” Obi-Wan chides. “Don’t traumatize him.”  

With a new bounce in his step that means he’s pleased Anakin has come around, Quinlan opens the door and places both hands on either side of the frame so the younger Jedi can’t quite make his way inside.   “Quinlan,” Anakin huffs. He’s holding three beverages—one in each hand and one tucked between chin and chest. “Come on. I’ve got drinks here.”  

[freneticfloetry]

hi courtney! @reyesstrand here on my main blog ajdnskd but for nice ask day i’d love to know about to build a home…what was the writing process like? any little tidbits you want to share about it? it’s one of my absolute all time favourite fics, so anything you’d want to share would be amazing <3 also!! i saw your ask where you mention you saw hozier and i’m seeing him on tuesday (!!!) so any hozier songs you feel speak to the lone star characters/relationships the most?

Hey Maddie!

First of all, hugs and kisses to you for all your kind words on to build a home (here and in feedback). I’m so glad it struck a chord.

I’m not sure what else to say about it, to be honest! Um… okay, there were four scenes in my original outline that I cut. Well, three scenes cut and two others combined. Very early on there was a scene at the honky tonk the night TK and Carlos met, sort of the tail end and aftermath of their first hookup and Carlos deciding that he needed to see this boy again, even if it meant breaking his rules and bringing him home. I never even started that scene proper — once things got flowing it made much more sense to just refer to that in the scene following, after TK stormed out on the date. Immediately after that one was supposed to be the scene when Carlos finds out Iris is alive, which got the axe for two reasons: one, I really didn’t want to write Michelle, and two — more importantly — I needed Iris to stay a sort of ghost for Carlos until he’s forced to unearth all that later.

Chapter Two pretty much proceeded exactly as planned, with the exception of the post-fire scene at Owen’s — that was just supposed to be Carlos laying in the dark and sort of inside his own head, reflecting on all the things he lost but the one thing he came out with being the only thing he couldn’t bear to lose. But TK sort of stormed the castle. I was chugging along, and all of the sudden, I’d typed that he’d woken up. It was literally like he said “my baby’s hurting, he needs me.” Which was cute, but not the plan. 😂 Still, I was really happy with the conversation that emerged.

Chapter Three, though… well, like mother like son. Not only did TK go rogue again, so did Gwyn, with the whole “future” talk toward the end of their conversation. The post-Cooper scene was originally post-Sadie, but it was too raw and too soon for TK to have processed things in a way that would have let him have that talk with Carlos (who would’ve been too freshly-mired in his own guilt, at that point, instead of adrift and unsure in Cooper’s wake). Switching it was definitely the right call, for me. The We Need to Talk About Iris of it all had huge changes in the moment, because once I started the scene, even though I had a plan, I wrote one line in particular and it unlocked everything else. Going over it with @ambiguouspenny, I thought they were going to have a meltdown. But in a good way! The hospital scene threw me a curveball, in the form of tying up a loose end from the first chapter, so that’s how Dom happened. It derailed the original plan for the first half of that conversation with Gabriel — he was going to tell Carlos that his abuela had always called him such a homebody, that after he came out he couldn’t leave home fast enough, and Carlos was going to confess that he’d sort of detached because he wasn’t sure he’d have a place under their roof after everything, that he had a bag that lived in Iris’ trunk for months, because it was better to be ready than to be blindsided — but I actually like the detour better. There was a scene planned immediately following — the boys coming back to the loft from the hospital after Marjan’s whole ordeal, where TK tries to convince Carlos to take the detective exam — but once I finished the scene before that was the easiest cut ever. It would’ve derailed all the emotional momentum from the scene before. And the wedding and wedding night were supposed to be two separate scenes, but halfway through the hospital scene I randomly got the urge to combine them, and I really love how it turned out.

There are a few lines and snippets that didn’t make the cut, one piece of dialogue in particular that inspired a whole new fic. (Also there was an extended exchange during the move-in scene, with Carlos’ crack about the exercise bike, that kind of went something like this:

TK: “Seriously, how does a guy who looks like you own zero gym equipment?” And then, like a little lightbulb: “Oh my god, you were that kinda gay.”

Carlos: “There’s a gym at the precinct, TK.”

TK: “And I’m sure that’s what you use now.”)

So basically… the writing process was chaos. I guess I had things to say after all! 😂

Second, YAY, A HOZIER SHOW OF YOUR VERY OWN!

Re: Hozier speaking to Lone Star characters and pairings, why yes, don’t mind if I do.

I think there are a bunch of things that fit, actually. Tarlos and Francesca are clearly a match made in heaven, but First Time has hella TK vibes, both Shrike and Sunlight are Carlos as hell (though the former fits TK too), and I, Carrion (Icarian) fits for both Tarlos and Judd/Grace, from TK or Judd or even Grace’s perspective. From Eden is such a Judd-about-Grace song, as is NFWMB, but I think Would That I is his truest theme. Better Love could be Judd or Carlos. Unknown/Nth is my Breakup Era Carlos Anthem, and As It Was fits for TK during that same stretch. I have too many feelings about Movement to even nail down who it belongs to. All Things End feels like it would work well for Owen and Gwyn, and I’ll be damned if Arsonist’s Lullaby isn’t Owen’s buried anger issues to a tee.

I won’t even get started on individual lyrics/verses (but “I get along without you very well some other nights” and “be still my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me” is the most TK Strand shit ever).

Not that I’ve thought about this at all. 😜

(Oh my god, this was an utterly unhinged answer, I’m so sorry.)

[uhnomahlee]

putting your body in harm’s way for them // aot headcanon

aot x black plus-size gnc reader

{mdni/f}

a/n: levi is trans. again cannot process the (y/n) format so i choose names to input. helps so much more :3 you can see the scenarios get shorter as i realize these aren’t full fics and i need to calm tf down. I would like to think this is proofread🧌,,,enjoy!

hange

it was the night the return of an expedition, the tavern livened with slurred singing and the smell of spilled alcohol

“another round for all my comrades and i!” hange announced to the bartender, raising their half-empty mug

the soldiers cheered on their commander, swaying along to the music playing

kayin helped hange sit down, taking a gulp of their own drink when they were sure hange was stable on the bench

“i don’t think they should be drinking anymore,” levi grumbled, narrowing their eyes at a couple of people who bumped into their back

wrapping their arm around hange’s torso, kayin gave a lopsided smile. “i’m gonna take care of them levi, don’t worry”

“you don’t need that shit either, actually,” was levi’s rebuttal. “that table over there is starting to look like they want to beat all our asses”

“the who?” hange turned around and raised a fist and shook it. “say it to my fa-”

without breaking eye contact with levi, kayin put a hand over hange’s mouth “the war’s over. i will tell them personally to unclench their assholes”

“i think it’s ‘cuz they aren’t used to seeing people like us together. what did you call it again?”

“gay”

“‘cuz we’re gay? yeah each and every one of us” hange slurred, raising a mug and nearly spilling its contents

“well-“ levi began.

hange narrowed their eye at them. “each and every one”

levi pinched the bridge of their nose. “and you’re talking entirely too loud. good lord”

after the next round of drinks were delivered to the table, the rambunctious couple took their place on the clear space in the middle of the bar boots stomping down on the wood as their bodies waltzed across the floor

the team harmonized a cheer, gleeful in their claps and single-syllable chants

the couple held their mugs in their right hands, left arms circling each other’s waists, holding on tight

laughter arose between the two when some of the beer spilled during their erratic movements

“if you’re not careful you’re going to drop that mug all over those weirdos glaring at us,” kayin warned hange, lips close to their ear

“if fate prefers it, then i shall let that happen,” hange responded, devilish

kayin gave a pointed look. “no. not tonight. we are not getting into anything”

“we never get into anything,” hange muttered, “they get into it with us! duh!”

kayin chuckled, shaking their head. “just finish your drink. i’m about to spin you”

hange smiled and then chugged down their drink, setting the cup down on a random table beside them

a hand grabbed hange’s before they could fully let go of the mug

“get your shit off of our table-”

kayin pried a single finger from the grip, not hesitating to break it

immediately the man’s hold loosened, scream of agony falling from his lips

“don’t ever think you can touch them like that,” kayin hissed, eyes darkening. they stepped in front of hange

multiple individuals rose from the table, coming forward

“one more step and i will fight until your blood vessels give out. all of you.”

there was a reason the couple had gotten into multiple fights and always came out unscathed

one thing about kayin—don’t put a finger on their partner

the group stepped back. they couldn’t deny they hadn’t heard about kayin’s encounters from town gossip

“before we get back to our wonderful night. does anyone have anything else they want to say?” kayin finished off their drink.

the men diverted their gaze

setting the mug gently on the table, kayin’s demeanor brightened, making the group flinch. “good!”

mikasa

atieno and mikasa were on their evening walk, hand intertwined with each other’s as they ambled down the trail

“…way better eyesight than you,” atieno commented, a teasing tone shadowing their voice

mikasa laughed. “when we visited that country last month you could not drive the rented car for the life of you.”

atieno furrowed their bushy brows, an incredulous look etched into their face. “that’s experience? take a look at the place where we grew up. technological advances mimicking those machines are just starting to crawl. you’re lucky we didn’t crash.”

“lucky…hmm” mikasa pondered, pursing their lips.

“would you have taken the wheel?” atieno’s opposite hand came to their right ear as they leaned towards their partner

mikasa emitted a ‘hmph’, piping down

“and hush falls over the crowd.” atieno straightened their towering stature, pleased at the lack of rebuttal. “we got from point a to point b unscathed and you dare question my abilities.” they shook their head in dismay, looking around the corner before leading mikasa into another path towards their apartment

“sasha and their partner had complaints too!”

atieno downturned their lips. “i didn’t hear anything about it.”

“because you turn into a big baby. like right now.” mikasa poked atieno’s cheek, feigning a pout

rebuttal locked and loaded, atieno put it on pause to halt their movements, making mikasa pull their hand away from their cheek

then they heard the scuffling from both alleys

mikasa got in a position ready to fight but atieno spoke

“no”

mikasa contorted their face, mildly offended. “who are you talking to?”

atieno continued walking until the two individuals rose from the darkness, guns aimed at the couple

“give us your jewelry and money, now”

mikasa’s hand tightened around atieno’s, signaling for them not to try anything

there had been attempts at robbing the couple before but those instances were hand to hand scenarios

guns weren’t exactly new but mikasa didn’t expect to see two pointing their way by the end of date night

the occasion being one of the thieves first encounters, a trembling finger over the trigger prematurely fired a bullet in mikasa’s direction

mikasa felt theirself stumble back slightly, atieno’s body coming into the view before they could process how to defend them

atieno raised a hand, maneuvering an object in their hand

the bullet crashed against a metal fan, falling to the cobble sidewalk

folding it swiftly, atieno launched theirself at the first attacker, peripheral waiting for any movement from the other robber

fear racking their body, the same person shot again

atieno unfolded the fan in front of their face blocking the bullet before swiping the device at the gun, its sharp blade cutting through the barrel of the weapon

the man’s face contorted in horror before atieno sent him down the sidewalk with a kick to the chest

“wait!” the other robber surrendered, arms up

atieno froze, the blade of their fan near the attacker’s wrist

they dropped the gun, atieno snatching the weapon mid-fall and tucking it away

hands rid of the fans, atieno formed a fist, connecting it with the person’s jaw, knocking them unconscious

atieno turned back to mikasa, smoothing out their coat as they returned to their partner

“marry me?” mikasa saw atieno with a ethereal glow around their body as the heat flourished in their lower abdomen.

“why do you say that after you see me beat someone’s ass?”

“...why not?”

sasha

“this is way different than my hometown, kagiso.” sasha followed close behind, astonished at the thickness of vegetation in this area of the island

kagiso steered the horse along an unnoticeable trail, familiarity acting as their guide. “i guess it just reminded me of here then.” they brought their horse to a stop, sasha doing the same

“we’re on foot from here”

kagiso hurried off their horse to help sasha down from theirs

face reddening, sasha put their hands over kagiso’s while they lifted them and then set sasha on the ground

“i can definitely get off a horse by myself,” sasha chided, knowing deep down they loved being carried by them

“hush. i know you like being carried”

visiting kagiso’s hometown, they offered to show sasha the terrain on a small hike

they traveled outside the clan’s barricade deep into the forest, where kagiso insisted the landscape was challenging enough for the hike

“just stay close. can’t tell you how many times my friends and i used to have our asses handed to us by this shit,” kagiso said, not even looking where they were going as they went along an unmarked oath

sasha watched with an incredulous look on their face. “is this not regular dirt? what am i missing?”

“oh it’s regular. this particular part of the island just likes to have random dips and cracks that won’t hesitate to tear a ligament, easily.”

“ah, great.” sasha hesitated to ask about the evolution of animals

half an hour in the trek, sasha had toughed out the obstacles, grunting as they climbed up a rocky incline

“you good?” kagiso called out from behind sasha, guarding any potential falls that could occur

“you lookin at my ass?”

“always.”

sasha finished their climb, letting out a breath. turning around, they faced kagiso and raised their arms in victory

“you might not want to-”

sasha began hopping up and down in glee, breathing heavily. “you owe me a fuckload of-”

their body fell backwards, arms frantically reaching out for something to magically appear and save them from the fall off the ledge

kagiso’s hands appeared, pulling sasha up so hard they stumbled backwards back down the hill

sasha prepared theirself for the shocks of pain but as their bodies suddenly came to a stop, they eyes shot open to look at their partner

“oh lord, those rocks really fucked me over”

kagiso’s bloodied face came into view, kickstarting sasha’s heartbeat

sasha tackled kagiso, enveloping them into a hug until they groaned in pain

“you can thank me all you want after we stop the bleedin’” they gave a dazed crooked smile, bloodied teeth on display

“oh my-yeah, let’s go.”

ymir

hand gripping their titan’s hair, itai looked behind them at the abnormal hopping from tree to tree speeding after them

“what the fuck is up with it?” itai hissed

ymir grunted in a questioning tone, swinging from a branch and flying through the air, planting their feet on another before speeding through foliage to evade the abnormal

the two soldiers had gotten separated from the rest of the squad, the accumulation of titans on the team creating panic and sending them off in different directions

ymir was already worried with itai’s ‘i will never die’ attitude during training, staying close to them since the beginning of the expedition, knowing a situation just like this would arise

“it’s fast. we’re gonna need to kill it soon,” itai replied. “i’ll look for an opening”

ymir wished that they could speak, because if they could, they would have denied the motion immediately and cussed itai out

instead they let out a growl, moving quicker through the trees

“the minute we stop for any reason that fucker is gonna be launching itself at us. and knowing you i would rather not be caught between that fight nor have you be at risk of getting injured so damn far in the forest.” they adjusted their hold on ymir’s hair. “i am not carrying your ass.”

itai squinted their eyes at the path in front of them, planning a strategy

“okay…” they blew out a breath, rolling back their shoulders. “don’t be mad at me.”

itai directed their hooks downward, pulling theirself towards the forest floor, watching the abnormal redirect their movement towards them

just before they hit the ground itai launched the hooks into the trunk of a tree, missing the mouth of the titan chomping down

using the moment of instability, itai sunk the device in the titan’s flesh, bringing theirself directly towards the creature

itai sliced through the titan’s right limbs, dodging its last attempt to attack, running up onto its body and dismantling its nape

ymir landed in front of itai, making their way toward them full speed

“oh fuck”

itai was snatched up and taken back into the trees

“i said don’t be mad! whoa!” itai tried to balance theirself as they were set on a branch. “instead of stopping to cuss me out, we should be trying to rendezvous with the team”

ymir perched their titan on the surface, then rose from the steaming flesh of the nape

“you fucking idiot.” their jaw was clenched, brows knitted together. “i swear when we get back-”

“i’ll get a kiss?” itai proposed with a timid smile

ymir narrowed their eyes. “not before i choke you out”

“dunno. sounds like a win-win to me”

levi

“i’m thinking of going camping outside the perimeter soon,” desta murmured, flipping through their journal as their partner laid their head in their lap

levi’s eye opened immediately, brow quirking

desta moved their journal, the burning gaze through the back catching their attention. “yes?”

“outside the perimeter? des, there are plenty of closer, safer locations to camp at,” levi proposed

desta sighed already prepared for their argument.

the first thing levi would always do when desta announced a lone adventure into the wild was to first, offer a location they could definitely follow them too and if that “failed”…

“we could also just…” the second option was to insert theirself, completely subtle or not

“levi, you don’t have to pop a vessel worrying about me. that’s my home. the environment i was born into. my first fights were with wild animals”

“i don’t give a fuck if they had raised you,” levi spoke back. “it’s entirely too dangerous”

“if i just let you come can we not have this conversation?” desta gave in.

levi frowned. “let me? there would be no trip without me.”

“please levi, i’ve snuck so many trips under your nose,” desta scoffed, then cleared their throat as their skin warmed.

“you what?”

“i wha-? you know what? i have been holding my pee in for so long. lemme go take care of that.”

the night of the trip desta couldn’t contain their excitement to travel outside the perimeter

this opposed levi’s rigidness, gaze focused on their partner as they set up the contraption in the trees, hand gripping straps of desta’s climbing gear

“don’t look at me like that. this is much safer than the ground.” desta grunted, as they tightened the rope around the trunk of a tree, sweat dripping down their face and body

“who the fuck camps in trees?” levi mumbled.

“when the hunters from our clan went out for hunts, this is how they slept.”

“i know. that question didn’t need an actual answer”

“i know. i just like getting on your nerves.” desta stuck their tongue out and then attempted to jump into the safety net set up

“oop” desta hung in levi’s grip, their gaze dark

“don’t ever try that again.”

the ladder levi had set up to reach the tent was right there

when the couple entered the tent, desta tossed aside their clothes, letting the breeze caress their dark brown skin

levi stared without a peep, a blush creeping across their cheeks

“the air is so good up here” desta clapped their hands, getting on their hands and knees beside levi

“you still have your clothes on?”

“i think i’d prefer it.”

in the middle of the night, desta felt the warmth emanating from their partner disappear pulling them from their own slumber in an instant

“levi?” desta rubbed their eyes, squinting at levi’s outline at the entryway of the tent

they looked back at desta, hearing their name and that's when they saw the look in levi’s eye

“wait, levi-”

levi dashed out of the tent, running down the ladder

desta wouldn’t dare let theirself be with levi if they couldn’t handle their partner’s episodes

they were on levi’s heel, running after them with their body in the nude. they hissed at the wood digging into their feet and small splinter, trying to ignore the pain as they reached out to grab levi before they could take one bad step

however, the step was indeed taken

levi’s foot slipped off the side of the branch, the left side of their body hitting the bark, bringing them to their senses

grunting, desta caught levi’s hand, gaze focused on the top of their head and not the forest floor so far from where levi was hanging from. they pulled them up into the branch, panting heavily

“…i should start training with no clothes on.”

“des-”

[dangerously-human]

8, 9, and 18 for the new/end of year fanfic asks

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

I guess my best answer is the great Fringe fix-it AU, which definitely feels like too much to tackle right now, so I've just been adding tiny pieces as I feel like it. Instead of a proper long-form fic, I may end up just writing snippets that connect over a given timeline - sort of like Restore the Years, I suppose - but the downside to that is that for a work that's entirely founded on the goal to force the post-S3 plot actually make sense and resonate with what came before it, I don't think skipping around and skimping on plot would actually accomplish my goal. Anyway, my idea is basically "Olivia and Peter and Olivia and Lincoln coparent across the bridge between universes," because I think Henry deserved to stay in existence and everyone should have had to actually deal with all the emotional fallout. Also because we were robbed of red!verse Lincoln and Liv falling in love while raising a baby and I'm still mad about it. This is probably not the year, but maybe I'll make some progress on it.

9. Short term goals… what do you hope to complete this week or in January?

Mostly the goal is to just keep chugging along on my WIPs. Ideally I'd like to post the next chapter of Here's a Safe Place to Lay Your Heart Down by the end of the month, but I generally try not to get my heart set on the specifics so as not to take the fun out of it. Planning to participate in at least one January Lockwood & Co flash fiction challenge, I've been really enjoying those. Also thinking of doing a WIP amnesty sort of thing to reevaluate my long-term backlog; for example, there's at least one Community fic that I think I'd be happier completing as a oneshot instead of trying to craft a plot arc around what I already have.

18. Do you typically post multi-chapters as you write, or finish it all and then start posting? Would you like to change your posting method? 

I always have the whole thing outlined (loosely) and at least a solid start at drafting all chapters before I start posting. It inhibits my creativity if I don't know where I'm going and I'm constantly stressing about making a decision I can't undo later. I used to be way more of a pantser, even as recently as my Continuum days, and it was nice for keeping motivation high but that meant plots that didn't always fit together neatly or pacing that felt clunky. Those Binary Stars was probably my first experiment with the loose outlining method - mm, I suppose I tried pieces of it with Just Once, but that was supposed to be a oneshot that wouldn't shut up and thus pacing issues were a given - and the three-act structure is probably a huge part of why I was suddenly able to bang out high-quality longfic (for me, anyway) like never before.

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch.4 (ronance fic)

hello! all previous chapters can be found here!

word count: 1,858

Robin cracked her fingers nervously. It didn’t matter how many years they had been at it, the feeling of anxious excitement always pooled in her stomach. They stood in the order they walked out in. Jeff, Lance, Robin and then Eddie. 

Jeff lifted up on his toes, waiting for Steve to give them the go in their ear pieces. Robin sucked in a breath as she heard him, “And, now.” 

Jeff bounced out of line with Lance following at his heels. The crowds screamed and hit Robin like a bag of bricks as she made her way out on the stage. She jogged over the drum set and took her seat. She was in absolute shock at the crowd. This was definitely the biggest show of their career so far. 

Eddie finally walked out and gave Robin a huge grin before sticking his tongue out. Robin knew it was time. She pulled her drumsticks from the pouch on the side of her set and puffed out a breath before bringing the first stick down. 

Her fingers buzzed as the drumsticks hit the tops of the instrument. Her, Jeff and Lance were about a minute into playing their intro when they shifted right into the opening song. Eddie stepped up to the microphone and the fans cheered before they started singing along with him.

These were a few hours that Robin lived for. She often wondered what life would be like had she not chosen to learn to play. She couldn’t imagine it really. There was nothing like performing in a huge ass room with thousands of people shouting the lyrics to your song back to you. 

As the second song came to end Gareth rushed up to Robin with a bottle of water. Eddie always stopped to talk for a moment between the second and third song. “Thanks,” she said before drinking as much as she could before handing it back to him. He rushed away to get ready. The fourth song was the first with keys on the setlist so he would be coming out soon. 

“Man, this place is packed. Did you know this is the first time we have sold this place out?” Eddie said into the microphone. Robin hit the drum a few times as the crowd cheered. “I mean completely sold out. Five thousand of you fuckers wanted to be in a room together to see us? Fucking wild. Chicago is always the best,” he took a step back as the crowd started screaming again. 

Jeff started the intro to the third song and Robin fell back into her rhythm. She looked over to the left to see Gareth entering the stage, taking his spot behind his keyboard. 

Robin looked back out to the crowd, searching the barricade. Off to the right of Eddie she could see Nancy. She was bouncing slightly, singing along to the song. Robin chuckled and shook her head slightly. Nancy Wheeler. She had always been full of surprises, even when they were younger. 

Gareth started playing which gave everyone a few seconds to drink water. Steve held a bottle out to Robin who chugged quickly then they were back at it. 

It was easy to lose herself in the performance. Throughout the songs she kept looking at Nancy who never missed a beat. She seemed to know every single one of their songs. Knowing this made Robin’s chest feel fuzzy in an affectionate way. Was Nancy actually a fan of their music or did she just listen because they had been friends? It made Robin feel guilty for not keeping up with her or knowing about her magazine sooner. Robin had always been good at staying in her bubble and it made her wonder what else she had missed. 

As they came to the end of another of Robin’s favorites, it was time for the song Nancy had said was hers. Which was also Robin’s. It took her awhile to get to be able to play drums good enough to have a solo. This song was the funnest for her to play but also it reminded her how rewarding all of her hard work was. Hours and hours of practicing most days and into the night to try and learn to play so quickly had paid off. 

They were exactly one verse away from finishing the song when Eddie stepped away from the microphone. Jeff and Lance also stepped a few paces back and Robin assumed they were either drinking water or taking shots. 

She glanced out at the crowd and saw Nancy staring at her with wide eyes. Others around her were jumping around and cheering but Nancy was almost statuelike. Robin grinned, making eye contact with her. She pounded against the drums quickly, always amazed with what she was able to do and how much energy it took to even do it. 

As the solo wrapped up and Eddie stepped back to the stage to finish the song Robin was still looking at Nancy. She was still unmoving, staring at Robin. Robin dipped her head slightly, hoping to convey the message ‘Yeah, that’s right, Wheeler. I know you’re impressed with me.’

Robin stepped off the platform and jogged toward the back of the stage where Steve waited with water. The current song had a long soft intro so she wouldn’t start until the middle. She drank the water gratefully before sticking her arms out to stretch them. “You crushed it, as usual.”

Robin laughed and nodded, “You should have seen Nancy’s face. She looked like she was frozen.”

Steve peeked around the curtain as if he could see her, “I’m glad she stayed. She tells me all the time how she loves the music but hasn’t been able to make coming work with her schedule.” 

“I never realized you kept in touch with her, honestly. I feel bad. If I had known what she was out there doing I could have been supporting her.”

Steve shrugged slightly, pulling the water from her hands. “You know now. It’s never too late to make up for lost time.”

Robin nodded in agreement before hurrying back to her spot. She missed no time in falling back into playing. 

They were almost done with the show and she always felt bittersweet at this moment. She had never been more herself than when playing a show. It was the one time of day when her worries seemed to fall away. When she was up here she could be whoever she wanted to be. The thought made her hear Steve’s words in her head from earlier, “Just be yourself.”

Then Nancy had said the same thing, “Just be yourself!” 

This was her being herself, at least now she was. Regret clouded her as she remembered the internal debate in the interview. She had wanted to be herself. She had wanted to tell Nancy about her being gay. That way it could be out. She had wanted to come out so her fans knew whos he truly was and so those who were going through what she was would maybe feel a little less alone. This was as close as she came to being who she knew she was. But.. How free would she feel if she could just say it? It wouldn’t feel like she was walking around with a constant secret. 

She had been so scared but for what? The people who mattered supported her. They loved her. It was herself she was unsure of. And why was that? She had known since she was young she was gay. 

Robin tried to shake her thoughts away as they finished the second to last song. The band hurried off stage together to have a minute before they came back from the encore. “I’m gonna tell her,” Robin said to Eddie as they stood behind the curtain. 

“Tell who what?” He raised an eyebrow, looking around to only see Steve and other crew members. 

“Nancy!” Robin said over the cheering. “I’m gonna tell her I’m gay. I’m going to have her put it in the article.”

Steve approached them with a look of surprise but Robin could see in his eyes that he was proud. “We’re gonna be home for two days. Nancy lives outside of Chicago. Find her after the show. Ask for a second chance tomorrow. She can wait to write the article after that and send it to print.”

“If this is what you want we support you, always,” Jeff said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. 

“Always,” Lance agreed. 

They closed around, even Steve and Gareth, to hug her tightly. “Gross, gross. You’re all sweaty, get off.” Robin said in an attempt to keep her emotions even. She wiped her eyes knowing they had brimmed with tears. “You’re going to make me ruin my eyeliner.”

“Time, go,” Steve directed them. They rushed the stage together, having little time to get to their spots to start playing. 

As the song was about to finish Eddie paused before the final chorus, “Thank you guys so much for an incredible night. You all are so fucking beautiful. We could never thank you enough or explain how much it means to be this close to home with such a turn out. Selling out a venue this big is not something we ever imagined we would do. I just want you to know that sometimes shit gets hard. Never give up. Always follow your dreams and you might just play a show for five thousand people. Also, also,” Eddie held up a hand before motioning behind himself, “Make some noise for our wonderful crew. Without them we couldn’t have pulled this off.” The crowd cheered and Robin clapped as well.

“Lastly, since we are so close to home. I would also like to say thank you to our friends for coming tonight. Dustin, Lucas and Nancy, we appreciate you guys and love you.”

More screams and cheers happened before Eddie fell back into song. 

Backstage Steve and Gareth waited for them, holding towels and water. Robin took a towel from Gareth and rubbed her forehead, “Thanks.”

“You guys killed it! That was so awesome!” Nancy said as she exited through a door with a security guy behind her. 

She hugged Eddie then Robin. Robin hugged her back, almost shocked before Nancy stepped back. This is probably the best show I’ve been to.”

“We try hard,” Lance said.

“It was incredible. I’m so glad I got to see it from the floor. I can’t wait to talk about your performance in the magazine.”

The guys started to shuffle around Nancy and Robin, heading back toward their locker rooms. “About the article,” Robin started. Nancy looked at her curiously but she continued, “I need to go over some things again. It might take awhile, are you busy tomorrow? We are home for two days.”

Nancy nodded quickly, “Yes of course! We can meet at Petey’s at one?” 

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then?” 

“Okay!” 

“Great! I'm gonna go shower,” Robin laughed and waved at Nancy. She turned back to call out, “Thanks for coming!”

[emilyprentissismother]

Hello all! I have recently fallen back into my Criminal Minds obsession. Given be I’m a hopeless lesbian I have been inspired to write quite a bit of Emily Prentiss fanfic. It’s been years since I’ve shared my writing and I’ve never shared a CM fan fic. I have written several JEmily stories along with a series where Emily’s girlfriend is a random OC. I decided to go ahead and throw one out there and see what y’all think.

18+ Content: Trigger warnings for drinking, age gaps(all legal), gambling, kissing and implied sex.

This One shot is JEmily based taking place between S4E7 Instincts/S4E8 memoriam. Mostly angsty Emily and some team fluff sprinkled in. Very light smut.

The team just saved the boy and decided to stay the night in Vegas to celebrate. This one shot is mostly identical to cannon with my own head cannon of what has been happening when the cameras are off. In this story JJ and Emily dated prior to her getting pregnant with Will’s baby but the team never knew. Now JJ is 7 months pregnant and engaged to Will just like in the show.

Enjoy! 💜 E.C.

The team with the, exception of Dr. Reid of course, decided to go out for nice dinner to celebrate. After all in this line of work this was the best out come possible. A little boy was safe in his parents arms tonight, warm and well fed. A Broken mother was getting the help she needed. Everything wrapped up in a neat bow.

Everyone was laughing as they sipped their wine. JJ looked around the table with her glass of water; her eyes stoping to watch the brunette across from her. Emily slapped Derek’s arm playfully denouncing whatever joke he just made. JJ’s thoughts wandered as she watched the serious Agent Printess melt into the women she loved, used to love. She recalled all the nights like this, alone or with the team it didn’t matter; Emily always found a way to touch her make, her feel special. She snapped herself out of it as the food came.

Rossi scoffed as Emily downed another glass of wine for the waiter to refill yet again. The older man fakes fainting in his chair as Morgan did the same,”That’s a vintage merlot from Napa, you don’t down it like a cheap whiskey. Wine should be savored”

“Oh trust me Rossi I savored it” Morgan quipped elbowing Emily playfully

“Actually that’s a good idea, got any cheap whiskey” Emily jokes half turning to the waiter who she knew had already left.

Hotch and JJ laughed shaking their heads at their team.

Dinner went on, everyone ate and talked. Emily found herself a little more tipsy than she planned to get, in front of the team at least. Her eyes kept finding themselves on JJ. She watched her play with her hair and exchange quips with the guys. Her laugh was contagious, it seemed to ring over the rest in the room. She was more beautiful than ever, she was truly glowing. The thought made the brunette glance down at JJ’s baby bump. The thought of JJ being a mother made her over joyed. She was going to be the best mother, that baby boy was so lucky, She thought to herself. Then she remembered, as she always did, it wasn’t her baby. Her body physically tensed in her chair enough for Morgan to notice.

“Em, you good?” Derek asks quietly only for them to hear.

Emily nods quickly “yea yea, Rossi maybe right about chugging wine tho” she chuckles

They kept eating and chatting. As the wine settled in her system Emily got bolder. She slowly dragged the back of heel up JJ’s calf. A small smirk painted its self across the brunette’s face as the blonde quickly uncrossed her legs on instinct. JJ’s eyes darted to meet Emily’s questioning if it was her at first, then silently scolding her. Emily didn’t stop there. She traced her heel all the way to the blonde’s knee. The pointed toe of her shoe ever so lightly grazing her inner thigh, before she pulled back. Smirking to herself, proud of the goosebumps she left covering JJ’s legs.

Everyone had already finished eating and Rossi was flagging down the waiter for dessert.

JJ stood up quickly, well as quickly as she could that is. “I should call it a night, it was a long day.” She let out a heavy sigh grabbing her purse.

Hotch nods and stood to help her up offering his arm. “Are you alright? I know cases like this… especially right now… they can be hard”

“Hotch I’m fine really, just tired.” She took his arm to balance herself and pushed in the chair. .

Emily stood up quickly “I think I’m going to call it a night too. I’ll make sure she make it to her room alright”

JJ rolled her eyes “guys I’m fine really”

Morgan looked up at Emily after ordering his dessert “you are calling it a night at 9 o’clock in Las Vegas?” He furrowed his brow with a knowing smirk

Emily shoots him a smirk back “yep I am” she takes JJ’s arm “my room is right next to yours anyway”

The two women say they’re good nights and head to the elevator.

Morgan silently chuckles to himself. Rossi shoots him a questioning glance “Am I missing something here?” Asked the older man

Hotch just shrugs with a knowing look and goes back to the email he was typing. Morgan shook his head “No Rossi not a thing”

In the elevator Emily pushed the 7th floor and leaned against the back wall. JJ turns to her “that wasn’t funny em”

“I don’t know what your talking about, but I’m generally pretty funny” she jokes

JJ rolls her eyes “the heel dragging across my leg under the table used to be hot, when we were together. But I’m with Wil. I’m having his baby.” Her hand subconsciously covers her pregnant belly as if to cover the babies ears.

“Yea definitely don’t need a reminder of that.” She snapped sarcastically.

JJ sighs running her hands through her hair “Em… we talked about this. We were broken up. You said you were done I didn’t plan this, but I do love him”

Emily turned quickly slamming her fist against the elevator wall just before the doors open.

JJ scoffs and walks out waddling down the hall to her room.

Emily groans “damnit” she mutters to herself and goes after her. Grabbing her hand softly just as the blonde went to unlock her room. “I’m sorry, I’m angry with myself not you”

“Yea you don’t have to be a profiler to see that” JJ says turning to face her, leaving herself caught between the tall brunette and the closed door.

Emily rolls her eyes “Just… it was a rough case let me make you some tea and run you a bath at least. Just as your best friend, I promise. I told you I could put it aside and be there for you and I can… I have been, I just had one to many. Please Jenny” she kisses her cheek softly.

JJ nods softly handing Emily the key, the use of that nickname melted her every time. Emily opened the door and helped JJ inside sitting her on the bed. The blonde kicked off her shoes and sighs flopping back on the bed.

Emily smiles a bit “I’m gonna go get your bath ready” she walks into the bathroom and turns on the electric kettle. She dug through JJ’s toiletries bag for the pregnancy tea she had gotten her. She then pulled out the small bottle of bubble bath JJ traveled with. When they were together she noticed how JJ would take a bubble bath after every case regardless the outcome, it was her safe space, her relief. Emily started the bath making sure it wasn’t too hot for the baby. She popped open the cap to the bubble bath squeezing the bottle just enough so she could deeply inhale the scent. It smelt like JJ; Warm Vanilla and worn parchment, the faintest hint of flowers. She poured the soap into the tub, shutting off the water. Moving to the counter she poured the hot water into JJ’s travel mug and steeped the tea before walking out.

JJ was now sitting up on the bed wearing only a robe, talking on her phone. “Yes, yes I’m fine. Wil. I’m fine. We can talk about it more when I get home in the morning. I have to go Emily is here checking on me. Yea I’ll tell her. Goodnight. I love you too”

Emily swallowed hard “how’s Wil?”

“He’s fine. Worried about me. He doesn’t like me still working while I’m pregnant.” She huffs a bit slightly rolling her eyes. Her hand lazily rubs her belly as she spoke,” But he did say to tell you thank you. For looking out for me” JJ sighs and stood up moving closer to her.

Emily took a deep breath,” He’s a good guy Jen I’m not trying to get in the way.” She meant the words she said but her tipsy brain had other ideas. Her own eyes ran down JJ’s body then snapped back to meet her eyes. As if on autopilot she leaned forward pulling the blonde into a deep kiss. JJ found herself unable to stop her at first. The kiss was full of so much comfort and love, so familiar. Emily pulled back snapping herself out of it “shit” she mumbled to herself “I should go. Do you have everything you need?”

JJ reached out to cup her cheek stunned by the sudden change in pace but Emily pulled away walking to the door. She let out a deep sigh “yea I’m fine. Have a good night em”

Emily nodded and left quickly going next door to her own room.

Emily threw herself on the bed and groans loudly “fuck!” Her mind raced. Why the fuck did I just do that. I can’t be here right now. She decided silently to herself

Pulling herself up she grabbed the whiskey shot from the mini bar downing it. Grabbing her go-bag, she dug to the bottom and pulled out a small black bag. She unzipped it and took out the small amount of makeup and small black dress. She got changed into the dress; it was solid black and fell just above her knee but the slit over her right thigh went much higher. The off the shoulder sleeve accented her breasts in all the right ways. She grabbed her straightener curling her hair quickly, then went onto her makeup; painting her lips a dark red. Sliding her heels back on her looked herself up and down in the mirror. She smirked a bit at how hot and young she could look when she tried.

Emily walked down the strip a ways knowing better than to try and pick up women in the same hotel as her team. She sat down at a crowded bar and ordered a single malt on the rocks. It didn’t take long for her to finish it as she scanned the room. Being a profiler made finding what she was looking for a breeze. In fact she considered it a game, hunting her prey finding the perfect woman for the night the, then flying home the next morning.

A blonde in a sparkly blue dress sat a few seats down. Emily looked her up and down, watched her for awhile. She flagged down the bar tender this time getting herself a double shot and sending the blonde a vodka cranberry with lime. She had a knack for knowing what people were drinking. She quickly slammed back her shot. Agent Printess was no light weight but she was definitely feeling it now.

The women looked down the bar as the bartender pointed Emily out handing the women her drink.

Emily smiled and waved confidently before sipping another glass of whiskey that was just dropped off. As if she wasn’t drunk enough at this point but she could still remember the pregnant blonde soaking in her hot bath, so she kept going.

It didn’t take long for this new blonde to slide into the seat next to the brunette. “How did you know?” The young woman asked holding up the drink, a wide smile on her face.

Emily smiles “Just a very good guess. I’m Alex” she held out her hand confidently. She always used one of her many past aliases when she was looking for a one night stand; a girl can never be too careful.

The blonde blushes and shakes her hand “Jane. Nice to meet you Alex where are you from?” She asks sipping the drink

“Virginia, what about you?”

“L.A. right now but I’ve lived all over”

“Me too” she brunette smirks she shifts her body so her legs were against Jane’s. She sipped on her whiskey as she made small talk. She compliments the young blonde in front of her, asking her questions about herself. She knew how to flirt, having the innocent young girl wrapped around her finger in seconds.

“How old are you sweetheart?” she asked slowly bringing her hand to Jane’s cheek.

Jane blushes and bites her lip softly “mmm guess” she hums

“24 but you tell people 25” Emily hums effortlessly. Setting her glass on the bar, her hand fell from her cheek

Jane chuckles “seriously are you physic or something?”

Emily giggles “or something” she winks and places her hand on Jane’s thigh.

Jane set her hand over the older woman’s that slowly began wandering up her thigh. Emily froze but Jane only brought her hand higher, under her skirt. “You are something else Alex. Can I ask how old you are?”

Emily dug her nails into Jane’s skin softly leaning in close to whisper in her ear “38” she nips her ear softly then pulls back to look her in the eyes and moves her hand away. “Does that bother you Angel?” She already knew the answer; this girl had turned down several men and women her own age. No, Emily was just her type and she knew it.

Jane blushes bright red and looked away quickly “n-no”

Emily grabbed her chin bringing her back to face her “don’t be shy kitten, what was that?”

Jane bit get her lip “no your age doesn’t bother me at all. It’s sexy”

Emily chuckles knowingly “is that so? Are you staying at this hotel” judging by the room key tucked in her bra she already knew the answer to that too.

Jane nods “12th floor. The girls I was coming with bailed so I have a king bed all to myself”

Emily smirks “you know it’s so loud in here maybe we should go some place quieter”

As they walked to the elevator Emily had her hand on the small of Jane’s back. Every time she did this it scared her a little. It was too easy, yes she was more skilled than most but getting a young innocent woman alone took nothing. Her mind drifted to all the awful cases that started just like this. That’s when she realized just how drunk she was; walking straight into the elevator door as it opened for them.

Jane catches her as she fell back “woah, you ok there”

Emily shook herself off and nods stumbling to get her footing “yea yea I’m good”

They step in the elevator and Jane press the button for her floor then turns pinning Emily between herself and the wall and kisses her roughly. Emily wraps her hand around her throat pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. Jane let out a soft moan causing Emily to pull back but leave her hand wrapped around her throat.

“My my aren’t we eager? Didn’t even give me the chance to get consent.” She hums dragging her thumb down middle of her throat

Jane blushes and hums “oops. just couldn’t help myself. But let me be clear… you have my full, complete consent” she pushed back against Emily’s hand to get as close to her ear as the brunette would allow “you can do whatever you want to me” she pecks her cheek

Emily hums “careful there kitten you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into”

The elevator door opened and Emily quickly moved away from her.

Jane took Emily’s hand leading her to her room and unlocked the door. Emily walked in and looked around room. Typical mess you would find in the hotel room of any young single girl. No telling how many people she brought back here. She thought to herself

Jane sat on the bed looking Emily up and down “you’re a top right? Dominant. Please tell me you aren’t one of those stone tops that’s only in it for the girls pleasure. I’m dying to get that dress off you” she bites her lip softly

Emily chuckled and watched “aren’t you bold. Yes I’m a top, I would consider myself dominant but we don’t have to go there if you don’t want to. And as far as getting my dress off…” she strutted up to the bed and grabbed her chin “you’ll have to work for that” Emily leaned down to kiss her but stumbled falling on top of her

Jane giggles and held her waist with one hand and brushes hair off of the brunette’s face with the other “are you sure you can give consent right now” she teases

Emily kisses her roughly “you let me worry about that”

The next thing she knows the sun in blaring in through the open curtains. Emily sat up a bit and looks around her head pounding. At first her heart started to flutter seeing the blonde wrapped around her in bed. But within seconds it all came crashing down as she realized where she was and what happened. She quickly and quietly got dressed and hurried back to her own hotel before the girl could even wake up.

Emily hurried to her room but just as she was unlocking the door the next one over swung open. JJ was still wrapped in a robe her hair in a messy bun out of her face. Emily held her heels in her hand, her day after curls tied in knots, a few hickeys dotted on her neck.

JJ looks her up and down “I thought you took that dress out of your go-bag”

“That was when we were together J. You made it clear you can move on… so can I.” Emily huffs softly her head pounding

“Oh I know you move on in every city we go to” JJ snapped but still calm

Emily held her head “can you please stop shouting “ she groans and goes into her room shutting the door. Emily flops on the bed tearing up. That was her girl one room over, that was supposed to be her baby, her life, but it wasn’t. As always she got scared and she ran, she pushed her away and now it was too late.

Emily took a shower, got dressed, and packed her bag before going downstairs. She silently cursed Hotch for putting them up in a loud, bright casino as she went to meet up with the team.

Morgan pulled the handle of the slot machines, cheering for a winning out come, causing more loud noise and flashing. “Come on baby give it to me. Come on baby come on baby.” He shouted at the machine

Emily groaned and held her head in her hands as she sat next Rossi “Morgan co-could you please- can you not… ugh- my head.”

“Oh my bad sorry. You know these things are rigged right” Morgan quips as he walked away from the machine

Rossi handed Emily a cup of coffee “rough night?”

Emily groans taking a sip “I hate Vegas”

“Oh come on Printess how can you hate Vegas, it’s like a grown folks play ground. Besides I thought you called it an early night.” Derek comments with a furrowed brow and a smirk

Just then the pregnant blonde joined the group asking about Reid. Emily tried to tune them out everything sounded as if it was being said through a megaphone

“Oh hey this thing still has credit on it” JJ said reaching for the handle of Derek’s slot machine

Emily sat up quickly shooting her a death glare “JJ I swear to god” she snaps

“What?” JJ asked looking between the two men as Emily dropped her head back to her hands.

Rossi silently mocks the brunette’s grumpiness and Derek chuckles.

Before Emily knew it Morgan was putting her in a car and they were on the jet bound for DC.

Hotch quickly fell asleep at the beginning on the long flight. Emily sat in one of the reclining chairs at the back of the plane trying to sleep off the hangover.

JJ sat down next to her “here” she handed her a black coffee and some aspirin

“Oh you’re a lifesaver “ Em said taking the little white pills and sipping the coffee

“Are we going to talk about last night?” JJ asked reaching for her hand

Emily pulled away quickly “there’s nothing to talk about I was drunk”

“You kissed me then went out to hook up with some random blonde. Did you even get her name this time?” JJ snarks

Emily rolls her eyes “how do you know she was blonde”

“You have a type em. “

“Her name was Jane and I think I’m in love” she says sarcastically

JJ scoffs rolling her eyes “oh please. When is this going to stop em? Going on the hunt every time we travel. Hell every night you go home. Penelope told me you’ve been either sleeping in her office or taking home some random girl every night”

Emily rolls her eyes “remind me to kill her when we get back to the BAU.” She sat up a bit “Besides my sex life is none of your business anymore.”

“Come on Emily we work with profilers you aren’t fooling anyone. And you aren’t exactly hiding it. Walking into round table in tops that aren’t yours, same clothes as the day before, hickeys on your neck.” She scolds pinching a hickey on the collar bone

Emily wacked her hand away “Oh god Jennifer can we do this later please “ she pulled the small plane pillow over her face

JJ rolls her eyes and goes to the table to get some work done.

[anguigenus]

can u make a fullll story of gus and matt (like, plots and multiple chapters)? i love those two and i never see fics! also ur writing is cool. not forcing or trying to pressure u i jus was wondering

Actually, I'm working on one right now with @pretendthisisanactualurl ! It's a really fun/silly one where Gus and Matt are dating in minecraft, except neither knows who the other one is in real life. Also Matt is secretly just doing it so Gus will buy him stuff in the game.

It's been really enjoyable since we really aren't taking ourselves seriously, just throwing in jokes and lots of fluff. We're going to have identity shenanigans, Gus and Matt getting closer in real life as well as in the game, Matt actually catching feelings, all that good stuff.

It's not finished yet, but we've got two chapters out of about ten published already. It is going a bit slow, but life's just busy, unfortunately. We're still chugging along though, and we're about halfway through this next chapter.

Hope this helps, and I'm glad you like my writing!

Here's the aforementioned fic:

[thatoneweebsworld]

Sensations

Fuck it, I loved working on that one Dash fic so much I gotta do more with him. Think of this as sort of a semi-unrelated part 3 (yes I know I haven't written part 2 yet stfu) to that 'Bulky' fic

DISCLAIMER: Dash Cantor and Harvey Edmund belong to @abdomented who has not been answering any messages. I will respect any requests they have should they want this material taken down.

Warnings: Bug-like aliens specifically millipedes here, Dash actually having a relatively smooth incubation because I'm kinda new to this specific field of writing, I should probably put mpreg on here too but ok

Dash was once again on his way to the surrogation center to get his next assignment inserted. He'd never incubated this species before, but he remembered when he first got it liking the data. He got it two weeks ago and, as expected, forgot about it until his digital assistant Gloria reminded him to start the fasting period. Good thing Aaron had visited yesterday to ease some of the emptiness. "Gloria could you remind me what this thing is that I'm having put in me?" The phone on his sleeve lit up with a face and computed for a moment.

"Olvad's Worm: this 45 to 50 foot long docile millipedal athropod native to the moon Elmenus serves no threat to humans, but requires a live host to metamorphize. The pupa ranges from 1 to 3 feet and grows to 5 to 15 feet before leaving the host. It does not need any of the host's nutrients, but requires ample room to grow. Adults have a pointed, armored exoskeleton that forms after birth." Dash was already loving the sound of this. "How long does it take to grow?" Dash asked as he stepped out of the small ship. "24 hours," Gloria replied. "Your assignment says that the pupa has been suspended and dehydrated for ease of insertion. Removal will be natural; the worm will exit the body when of size.” Dash nodded along with the feminine voice as he made his way into the clinic. As soon as he walked through the automated doors, none other than his friend and doctor Harvey Edmund was awaiting him.

“I sure hope you actually fasted, Dash. They’re giving you two of these things.” Dash scoffed and flicked his hand. “You’ve seen how big of stuff I can handle. Remember that one time they messed up and gave me the wrong thing?” Harvey shuddered internally a bit at the thought. “You were lucky. Unlike that, Olvads are pretty soft and squishy. Docile too, it’s not like you’ll be running away when it comes out.” Harvey patted Dash’s stomach as a nurse handed him a small vial. “Let’s get these vitals first and the-” Dash grabbed the vial from Harvey and the water the nurse had on standby. Down the capsule went into Dash’s empty stomach. “Don’t worry. Harv, can I eat something now?” Harvey shrugged. He knew nothing he could say would be able to sway the surrogate, all the while taking the vitals he had missed before the worms started rehydrating. Thankfully, they all looked good. “Those worms have to have something to work with.” The nurse returned just as Harvey finished speaking with a rather large jug of water. “Drink this.” Dash chugged down the jug as quick as he could. Finally, something on his stomach. “I’d suggest you wait a bit before eating. It shouldn’t take long for the pupa to hydrate again.” Dash was already on his feet and heading back for the door. “Let them settle in, Dash. Don’t stuff yourself, and if you do, don’t come crying to me later.”

By the time Dash made it back to his penthouse, his stomach was already quite distended. “Two of 'em in there huh? That water must’ve did it’s job.” Dash had seen himself far far bigger before but in a matter of fifteen minutes he went from flat to his navel poking out ever so slightly from his previously loses fitting shirt. Dash patted his gut but left his hand there when he felt a movement underneath. Unlike the majority of his previous incubations, the movement felt... soothing. It certainly still had the odd quality that all his live incubations, the body screaming 'this shouldn't be here,' but Dash had become used to this. No, the slight movement felt gentle. Quiet in a way. Dash felt rather full now that there was something in his stomach only getting bigger. Make that two. He sighed and settled down in his living quarters, flicking on the television for background noise. It had been so so long since he had an assignment feel... so right. He couldn't keep his hand off his stomach and his eyes felt oh so heavy. Within the hour his shirt was only able to cover half of his stomach. He was stuffed.

About 3 hours of simply lounging later, Gloria broke Dash's surprisingly peaceful state. "Dr. Harvey calling. Should I answer it?" Dash grumbled and opened one eye. "Go ahead... I must've fallen asleep..." Gloria's voice was replaced by the surgeon's. "How ya holding up Dash? They insisted on giving you two, thought you could handle it. Not too big?" Dash yawned as he tried to drowsily comprehend what his friend had just asked. "They're super calm in there. You should come look, I've never had anything this docile before." If only Dash could see the look on Harvey's face upon hearing that. "They must like you. Other surrogates couldn't get them to calm down. Can I see?" Dash didn't feel like switching over to video call. "Why don't I just stop over later?" Harvey sighed. "You might be sore by then."

Sure enough, at about seven o'clock, Harvey heard the telltale knocks of his surrogate friend at his door. "Hey Harv, it's me. It doesn't hurt or anything, but maybe you should take a look at how big these things are." Harvey sighed at tried to assess Dash's size through the doorbell camera. He was indeed rather huge, not the biggest he'd ever been, but no small feat. Harvey went to open the door and immediately upon seeing the mass in person along with a rather aroused Dash got a better idea of what was going on. "Dash, were you seriously worried that something was wrong because the things made you horny?" Dash let out a long and heavy breath. "No way, not me!" A squiggly yet more difficult to see protrusion slowly curled itself in a different direction. Dash squeezed his stomach which had to be at least two feet wide and three feet out with a shaky moan. A bead of pleasured sweat glistened on his brow as he flopped onto his back once inside. Harvey began gently pressing on the mass and gave a slight smile. "They seem to be doing fine. Maybe there's a slight difference in Chionian hormone response..." Dash couldn't stop wiggling trying to ease the tenting at his hips. "Harv, dammit I'm full~" The doctor could feel more and more movement hidden just beneath the skin. As if on cue Dash's tummy gave a loud groan and slowly ballooned outward a decent bit. "Heheh, growth spurt..." Dash was in bliss. “Why don’t we look and see just how full you are?” Dash smiled almost as though in a lustful trance. “Please… show me~”

Once Dash was all set up on Harvey’s little personally examination table, the ultrasound bubble that Dash had gotten rather acquainted with descended upon the slowly wriggling worm-filled stomach. Harvey booted the monitor and wand , standing next to Dash's head so both could easily see the scan. Just as expected, two very clear coiling and slightly moving being were all cozied up in Dash's stomach. Dash couldn't help but smile a bit upon seeing the more adult-like bodies inside him. Behind each of the two leggy creatures was a distinct sac about three quarters the size of its owner. "Nutrient sacs are still in tact, rate is steady, looking good. No wonder you feel so full, it looks like these two are both on the bigger end. I'm actually gonna have you stay here overnight just in case they wind up growing out of hand." Dash nodded absent-mindedly. "Sure thing Harv..." It wasn't often that Dash wound up acting like a mother hen during an incubation but lo and behold, there he was. A bit more intense writhing started gradually and as if trying to show off the pair rather quickly grew a few more inches each right there in front of the duo's eyes. Dash breathed deep and had to mentally restrain himself from touching his stomach so as not to disrupt the ultrasound. The thin film coating his stomach retracted as Harvey shut off the machine once the worms resettled.

"Need water or anything? Snack?" Dash lazily got up off the gurney and teetered over to the couch. His stomach was by this point able to be considered huge. "I'm good... but once they're out I'll take you up on that." While Harvey would have normally asked Dash to share the couch, given his size it appeared impossible. He instead settled for rubbing Dash's now rather tight stomach. "Does it hurt anywhere?" Dash thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just. So. Tight." Harvey sighed when he noticed Dash's pants tenting once again. "I might try and get these things more often... mmmmm Harv they're getting bigger..." The two distinct ripples across his stomach were indeed widening and pushing out more and more. "Dammit... I kinda don't want them to leave." Harvey chuckled. "I'll see what I can do, Dash. For once, you're not screaming in pain."

[three-headed-monster]

okay so i've been working on this kent/owen breakup fic for...six months now? i'm still chugging along on it, and hopefully it'll be done this summer. but i am having Doubts that people would actually want to see it on ao3. first of all, all of my other kent/owen fics flopped in the tag, and i don't doubt that this fic will do the same. second, this fic includes background bo/dylan which will probably make some people shy away from it. third...idk i just feel like a lot of people never read my ao3 writing anyways so like why bother? maybe it's because i never get any feedback or anything on it aside from a few of my friends and stuff...

i'm guess what i'm trying to ask here is if people would like to see it is all. because i'll still finish it and share it with my friends but if people aren't going to like it or want it, i just won't post on ao3

[kitewithfish]

Wednesday Reading Meme for Jan 18 2023

What I've Read Westerns: Making the Man in Fiction and Film - by Lee Clark Mitchell - This book was read for the Great Queer Supernatural Re-Watch section on Westerns and while I think it provided useful background on the pre-cinematic roots of the genre in novels and painting, I found that the analysis of filmed works was just fine.

There are times where Mitchell misinterprets a work to suit a contrasting reading of masculinity in two films - Hondo and Shane, for example. Hondo absolutely has a plot about a strange interloping male lead coming to a homestead and getting emotionally involved with an abandoned but still married woman and her son, before getting serious with her after her no-good husband dies - because the male lead kills him! Shane has an strange male interloper, but the move bends over backwards to make sure that the ranch wife and the interloper are never in the same shot alone, and the husband is a clearly heroic figure in his own right - plus the ending where Shane bids his farewell to their son rather than to the wife. Modern viewers would be justified in seeing a triad relationship than seeing infidelity. Mitchell also really ignores the racial dynamics of the genre and the fact that he's analyzing White American masculinity, not something more broad, plus he also doesn't really do audience reception of films at all. For all that I found Monsters in the Closet a bit prosaic in the analysis, it's miles better than this for providing context. But Westerns is from 1996, maybe the author has had a chance to get deeper into these topics since.

I read a BUNCH of fanfic that is just too short of the novel line to count as a novel for my reading purposes: A Man of Honor by astolat https://archiveofourown.org/works/44251276 36k - Regency AU, queer accepting AU of Jaime/Robb. It's actually massively fealty fic with some fun politicking, I adored this Tyrion. Cersei is Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, the monarchy and the battles are displaced to English Parliament, it's quite fun.

trust is a mobius strip by sinspiration https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394041 35k - Voltron: Legendary Defender, Shiro/Keith -this is just deeply charming example of non-sexual submission and kink in space. When aliens think you are dating, you might be dating. I don't even go here! I have not engaged in this fandom at all! All I know is that they have goofy space lions.

The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine 30K https://archiveofourown.org/works/18206480 - this is a truly massive series that is only technically finished because the author moved the second and ongoing portion of the series into a different series altogether. It's absolutely not shippy, it's very focused on Ben Nasaade, aka, Obi-Wan Kenobi from Luke's toddler years, getting magicked back to work with the Jedi in the years leading up to the Clone Wars. It's wonderful in terms of taking Jedi philosophy seriously and involves a lot of the Tatooine slave culture worldbuilding that fanon has put together from other sources (which I need to read). I inhaled the first five pieces of this and was so glad I had it downloaded to read when AO3 had it's maintenance shutdown last week. ruin 1/12/23 - holy fucking shit 16k fallout 1/12/23 oh my god 12k true colors 11223 10K in crisis 1/13/23 10k

What I'm Reading Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir - SFF Book Club - Chugging right along! I feel like I am getting the fun vibe of this book in a way that I really wasn't the first time because, since I first tried to read this, I have actually read some recent YA fiction, so I am slightly more in tune with the tropes that they are pointedly subverting.

When A Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare - Audiobook, absurd and fun

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong) Vol. 4 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù with Faelicy (Translator) - moved out of hold so that I can read one section that is the basis for shipping two background characters. I might abandon this one after this section.

On Hold but not abandoned The World We Make by NK Jemisin (Great Cities 2) 2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson - Slowly

What I'll Read Next The Uncle's Story, Witi Ihimaera The Good Lord Bird

Library books  Frankenstein in Baghdad by Ahmed Saadawi A Half-Built Garden by Ruthanna Emrys 

Owned and need to read: Frey Marske's A Restless Truth, and Susanna Clarke's Pirenesi California Bones, Raven Song by IA Ashcroft, Kraken's Sacrifice by Katee Robert, Even Though I Know the End by CL Polk, True Colors by Karen Traviss, At The Feet of the Sun by Victoria Goddard, Tamryn Eradani's Enchanting Encounters Books 2 and 3, Like Real People Do by EL Massey, Tom Stoppard, invention of love. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty, "You Just Need to Lose Weight" and Other Myths about Fatness by Aubrey Gordon, Alisha Rai Partners in Crime, the Right Swipe, Aphorisms of Kerishdar

[luvnami]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou​ @amjustagirl​ (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist. 

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet. 

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip.  He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week. 

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?” 

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders. 

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?” 

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward. 

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?” 

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know. 

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow. 

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds. 

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second. 

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to- 

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry. 

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp. 

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants. 

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though. 

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat. 

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat. 

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up. 

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!” 

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch. 

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled. 

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag? 

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold. 

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest. 

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality. 

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.  

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry? 

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked. 

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?” 

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled. 

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it. 

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided. 

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know! 

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable. 

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy. 

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over. 

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff. 

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his. 

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them. 

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully. 

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!” 

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time. 

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together. 

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say. 

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again. 

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies. 

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron. 

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree. 

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved. 

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed. 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes. 

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?” 

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger. 

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order. 

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway. 

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself. 

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!” 

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!” 

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years. 

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight. 

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it. 

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.

[wormstacheangel]

Suptober Day 1: Harvest

wc: 1.7k tags: fluff with the side of tiny case fic, established relationship, spoilers but cw they are drugged with cider,

It was a long hunt. One that they accepted as their last one, but, of course, they can never sit still enough not to take an easy local hunt. By local, he means a two-day trip away, but still, they saved a couple of old folks from a ghost, which was fun. Dean sure enjoyed getting thrown around until Cas finally burned the dentures.

Like he said, long hunt.

They stayed at a nice little Airbnb overnight. During breakfast, their waitress told them of the Harvest Festival a town over. Cas was still a little bruised up, but Dean convinced him to go, at least to try their famous apple cider.

“We’ll make a day of it! Just me and you.” With that, Cas agreed, taking Dean’s waiting hand across the table.

The festival was lively when they arrived in the afternoon, with more people than they expected considering the small town they were in but apparently when they say famous they meant it. The tents lined up with food from funnel cakes, donuts, chicken, and some pumpkin spice beer that Dean chugged down even though it tasted like shit.

They eventually ended up with bags filled with treats and souvenirs to take home to the kids--Sam and Eileen fall into the kids’ category. They each held a bag while Dean held Cas’ hand tight in his own, dragging him around from seller to seller, buying and tasting as he went.

“We should start heading home, or soon you’ll be too full to drive.” Cas teased as Dean finished off their bag of apple crisps. “You think we’re feeding an army.”

“Considering how Jack eats, we might as well be.”

“He gets that from you, you know.”

They continued their banter as they made their way out of the festival and to the parking lot.

Then they were stopped by a woman wearing a volunteer pumpkin shirt, “Aw, leaving so soon? Don’t ya wanna stay for the fireworks?”

That quickly took Dean’s attention, brightening up his whole face so much that once again, Cas couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. Instead, earning himself a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you before being was dragged to the car to drop off their items.

Once back in the festival, they walked around until another volunteer told them about the amazing view of the fireworks at the middle of the corn maze.

“It’s a small maze, but in the middle is a little hill. So it’s usually first-come, first-serve. But I haven’t heard of anyone taking it as of now.”

Once again, Dean was easily hooked in and took Cas along for the ride. Not that he was complaining. He enjoyed watching Dean get excited over small things, things he wouldn’t have permitted himself to get excited for before. Of course, it helped when Dean hooked his arm around Cas’s waist to tug him close, whispering, “Ever kissed someone in a corn maze, Cas?”

“You know I haven’t, Dean.”

That did it for Cas. A promise of a spectacular kiss that will put the fireworks to shame.

At the entrance of the maze stood a cider cart, and Cas made a beeline for it. “I at least wanna be warm if you are going to make me walk around in the cold.”

“On the house.” The saleswoman winked at them, and something uneasy passed through them, but they ignored it as she motioned them to go right on in that the fireworks should be starting soon.

They took their hot cider and walked right in, taking hold of their hands as they walked through the maze in comforting silence. Watching the sky above them change from orange and pinks to the dark night sky.

When the maze opened up to a clearing, Dean started to run—taking the small space on top. It was tall enough to see over the cornstalk and watch the lights twinkle from the festival up ahead. They could even see groups of people exiting the maze from their left, and for a second, Dean wondered why they didn’t run into anybody on their walkover. It looked like a lot of people were going through the maze, but nobody passed them.

That thought was quickly dismissed as the first firework lit up the sky, cheers from the crowd echoed the loud boom, and Dean felt secure with an arm hooking around his shoulders to bring him in closer. So they sat there watching the firework show and polishing off their now cold cider until Cas couldn’t wait another second.

Gently, he turned Dean’s face just enough so they could start the kiss slowly. The snap crackle pop of the fireworks above their heads just kept lighting up the fuse between them until Cas asked for them to find another place to spend the night.

“Should we go now?” Dean kissed down Cas’s jaw, feeling the hastily nods instead of seeing it. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

They both stood up and took one last look at the view before they got down. Turning left, where they were sure they saw the other folks exit from before. Every few steps, they pulled each other for another kiss-- smiling into them like giddy newlyweds--until they started to realize they’ve been walking for way too long.

The fireworks had long been over, and they soon realized it was their only source of light. It soon became so hard to see anything that they didn’t dare let go of each other’s hands. They tried to go back to the hill to see if maybe they could see the trail from there, but it was like it never existed in the first place.

“Fuck!” They turned the corner to find another dead-end. “Isn’t this shit for children!”

“You know we haven’t seen or heard anyone in a while. Not since-”

“We came in here. I know. I was thinking the same thing earlier when we were on the hill.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Cause you stuck your tongue in my mouth and impending doom took a backseat.”

They started to run, calling out for help as they did, but it only felt like they were going in circles.

Then Dean yelled, “Hallelujah!” When a flashlight shined into their faces.

“There you two are. It’s time to go.” The old man sounded so relieved to find them. He didn’t look sinister. He didn’t even make it sound like they were gone for that long. “You two okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. We got lost, I guess.” Dean shrugged, watching as Cas stared ahead of him.

“Many people do. But they always find their way out, though.”

They followed the man out of the maze while Dean’s knuckles brushed alongside Cas’. They were listening to the man recite a memory when suddenly Cas tugged at Dean’s arm.

“Dean.” It was a shocking gasp.

“Cas?” Dean turned around to watch; Cas’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before dropping like a ragdoll. “Cas!”

And just like that, Cas was out to the world.

Dean fell to his knees to take Cas into his arms, but it was useless. He was heavy, and Dean’s body was starting to tingle, his muscles becoming weaker with every passing second.

“Don’t you worry about your little friend.” The man flashed his light on Dean’s face. Blinding him, but Dean kept glaring up at him. “Just like you, he won’t feel a thing.”

“What did you do to him?” He tried to growl, but it came out too breathless for it to be threatening.

“Same thing we did to you. Same thing we do every year to a couple of tourists.”

Dean could feel himself slipping out of consciousness, but he kept trying to shield Cas from whatever was coming.

“Don’t fight it, boy.” The man walked over to him, raising his flashlight high above his head. “Hate it when they struggle.”

And with a single hit, Dean was knocked out. Falling over Cas. Hoping that at least he gets killed first this time around.

Dean woke up again when he felt someone kicking his legs with little to no effort. His arms were numb, and he realized it was because they were pulled back and tied around some huge boulder.

“Dean?”

Dean recognized the voice and happily groaned out a complaint. “Hate small towns. Creeps. All of them.”

Cas chuckled in relief. “Glad you’re okay.”

Dean blinked a couple of times before his eyes focused, looking across from him to find Cas in the same position as him. Cas looked dirty, a few scratches on his face from being dragged, which made Dean furious—tugging at the ropes that hold him back from checking for any more injuries.

“Fuck! Shit! You okay? They hurt you?”

“Not as much as they did you.” Dean didn’t feel much pain besides the stretch on his shoulders and a raging headache. “I guess that’s not true. You have a swell on your head.”

“Yeah, well, I went down swinging. Unlike you.” Cas didn’t look amused, but he looked concerned. Dean followed his gaze, looking for an explanation or a way out. “I guess we’re either bait or dinner.”

“I’m used to being bait.”

“And I’m used to being dinner. Well, aren’t we a match made in heaven?” This time Cas glared, and weirdly enough, it made Dean relax a little. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

The plan was simple, while Cas may not be a full-powered-up angel, he was still an angel. And he was stronger than an average human. So with a little more force, Cas had his arms free, rubbing his wrist while shrugging at Dean, “I always see humans do this.”

“Yeah, cause it hurts, so if you can just-” Dean motioned for his arms and Cas quickly reached to untie him. Then, when they were both free, they once again started to look around the empty cornfield. “I say leave now and call for backup; come back in the morning.”

“Considering we have no weapons, I think that would be for the best.”

“So much for date night.” Dean took Cas’s hand, and they quickly started to get themselves out of there. Running like maniacs as they pushed through the endless corn.

“I actually enjoyed myself today. You know, before the whole being drugged and left for dead part.”

“Really? That was my favorite part.” Dean joked, squeezing Cas’s hand as they made their way to safety. “You think all the stuff we bought was drugged?”

“Won’t stop me from having another donut.”

“Man, I love you.”