#I’m sick of seeing this every time I look through me drafts I NEED to post

[autisticqueenorder]

[berryblosom]

ATTENTION * ˚ ✦ Reader x jealous!Satoru

Summary: Megumi is coming down with a cold and Satoru hates the attention you’re giving him.

A-note: I’m in such a slump lately, so here’s one of the many in my drafts :(

“Here sweet pea, take this and drink it all.” You carefully hand Megumi the cup of tea you brewed up for him. The poor thing came down with a nasty cold and can barely keep his eyes open, so you’re doing everything you can to make him feel better. Some would think of this as a loving gesture and would give praise but for your boyfriend it’s the last thing he would do.

You’ve noticed ever since Megumi came back from school with a cough that Satoru has been giving the two of you the stink eye, he lurks behind doors and stands in corners of the room scowling at Megumi. Every where you turn he’s there giving you strange looks and then walking away without a word when you catch him. You knew he was werid when you first met him but maybe he’s finally loosing his mind.

“Satoru would you stop that.” You knew he was behind you so you didn’t bother turning around but you could basically feel the daggers he was shooting into your back.

“I’m not doing anything- I mean I’m not talking to you.” He grumbles with his arms crossed.

“Oh no, whos going to talk my ear off now?” You dramatically turned and feigned an distraught look. Megumi giggles from the couch which earns him a glare from your boyfriend.

“This is bullying you know!” With one last angry look at the two of you Satoru storms off to your room. Megumi breaks out in a fit of laughter but you smile knowing that a laugh from you would just set Satoru off even more.

“I’ll go check on him.” You leave the kitchen and follow Satoru into your bedroom. You found him faced down on the bed, his face buried in his pillow.

climbing onto the bed you lay down next to him. “Do you wanna tell me what that was?” He turns his head slightly so you could see his blue eyes but he said nothing.

“You know if I didn’t know better I’d say your jealous of little Megs out there.” You raise your eyebrows in question, you knew you were right but wanted Satoru to admit it himself.

“I’m not jealous of that shrimp.” He mumbles and you stifle a laugh.

“Satoru look at me please.” It takes him a couple seconds but he finally turns his head to look at you fully. His infamous “Im mad at you” pout was as clear as day on his lip but you just found it adorable.

“I am not jealous, he’s a little shit that need to give me back my girl.” You laugh and Satoru perks up at this, if there’s anything that could make him feel better is knowing he made you laugh.

“He’s sick Toru and he’s seven. He needs someone to take care of him.” Satoru sits up and pulls you up with him.

“I’m sick too (a lie) but you haven’t even given me so much as a kiss for five whole days.” He waved his slender hand in you face, as if that made is point more believable.

Megumi has only been sick for one day but your boyfriend had a flare for the dramatic. Satoru clearly wasn’t going to let this go until you did something about so without warning you climb into his lap and wrap you arms around him.

“My poor baby, what can I do to make you feel better hmm?” Satoru reacts to your touch instantly, his eyes follow your every word and it was vey clear what he wanted.

You cup his face and lean slightly forward, your lips linger infront of his teasing him slightly until you hear a quiet whine escape him.

You kiss him softly with your fingertips running through his hair but Satoru needed more. He grabs your legs wrapping them around his torso, you were much closer now and he could kiss how he wanted to.

“Mhm Megumi is in the living room, slow down.” Satoru doesn’t listen, continuing to caress your skin and press sloppy kisses on your neck. He captures your lips again this time managing to push his tongue past your mouth. Satoru has always been a good kisser especially when he hasn’t kissed you for a long time. He finally lets you go to catch your breath. You watch him rest his head on your chest and nuzzles into you.

“I’m your one and only right.” Blue eyes gaze up at you with hope swimming in them. You loved Satoru more than anything and found it amusing he thought your love for him was being threatened by a sickly seven year old. But to ease his mind you’d tell him over and over if you have to.

“You’re my one and only, my sweet baby that I love very much.” His signature giddy smile returns to his face so you thought this was the best time to check up on Megumi.

Satoru notices your attempt to leave and locks you with his arms. “Where are you going?”

“To give Megs his soup, there’s still a sick child in the house remember.” He looks hesitant to let you go but knew he really had no choice.

“You’ll come back to me right?” You smile and peck his forehead

“Of course.”

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Spencer Blurb!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 500

A/N: I am in the trenches with finals rn so I needed something positive to think about as well as a distraction from what I should be doing.

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

“I’m starting to realize why people commit murder.” You grumbled to yourself. 

Honestly, you were a sight to see. You had claimed the living room of your apartment with Spencer and books were everywhere. Your laptop was front and center and papers were scattered about as if a storm had come through. 

Spencer peeked his head out of your bedroom, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry, what.” 

The frustrated sigh that left your lips almost knocked the curiosity right out of him. 

“It’s just…” 

Spencer had met you in the Boston Public Library, where you had been writing a paper for one of your classes, and you couldn’t find the statistics you needed. Enter Lover Boy with all your answers. He was only nineteen, completing his third Bachelors over at MIT and you were a sophomore over at Harvard, studying psychology. You were slated to graduate a whole year early, but it wasn’t your intellect that drew Spencer to you, it was your charm, the way you spoke your mind. 

You said anything and everything to him, and he wanted to listen to every single thing you said. You started dating six months later. You ended up following him down to DC a little while after that, and supported him while he completed his first Doctorate. You loved living with him, even when his life got hectic, even when he decided he wanted to go fight crime for a living. 

So when six years later, you’re working on your Ph.D at Georgetown, and you said you understood why people murdered others, Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to keep listening. 

“Just what.” He walked over and sat down next to you, taking into account the four cups of coffee, three mugs of tea, a banana, two empty Panera bags, and a myriad of gum wrappers. “When’s the last time you left the apartment?” 

“Like a week ago, when I wasn’t trying to finish my fucking draft of my dissertation. I don’t know how the fuck you did this Spence.” 

Spencer kissed your head and took your hand. “Why don’t you go to the library or something. Get out of here for a bit. Go on a walk.” 

“I’d go to the library if you came with me.” You smirked a little bit as you fixed his tie, causing his cheeks to blush at the memories you were reminding him off. 

“Thats–that’s not what I meant.” 

“That’s why I suggested it.” You kissed his cheek, and looked back at your laptop, the moment of joy on your face disappearing. “Can’t you take the day off Spence?” 

He started to shake his head, but then saw just how exhausted and overworked you were. “I—give me a minute.” 

Spencer kissed your head and went into the bedroom, where you heard him make a call to Hotch, claiming he needed the sick day. 

You smiled and started to clean up your space, excited to spend the day away from your work, and with your favorite person.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Downed

A/N: I got the cut scene of Astarion imitating Halsin in the middle of drafting a drabble, and this is the result. Please enjoy. Tags: Baldur's Gate 3, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x OC, Astarion x Half-drow!Reader, gender neutral reader, BG3, TDU!Reader, BG3 Astarion WARNINGS: hallucinations, canon-typical violence. Summary: You get hit by a fear spell while in the Underdark and hallucinate shadows in anticipation of fighting the Shadow Curse, Astarion is angry and it's all Halsin's fault. Apparently.

Word count: 1.6k+

(GIF Credit to @iplann)

All Astarion remembered was seeing you go down. 

It was an ambush by two rogue Duergar as you crept through the Underdark. Originally, the pair of you had been on an unimportant quest for you to retrieve some bioluminescent mushrooms to make lanterns; Astarion doesn’t understand the appeal but is also unable to say no to any of your requests. 

He regrets being a pushover at that moment, as it’s landed you both in this one.

After you fell, he had lunged across the field and sunk his teeth into the neck of the Duergar casting spells. He refuses to provide the sorcerer a painless death by draining, instead tearing at the flesh with his teeth. A sick gurgling echoes through the grassy hollow you’d been attacked in, and Astarion releases the dwarf. He stumbles for a moment, clutching at the missing area of flesh on his neck before falling face first into the grass. 

The other blue-skinned creature freezes at the realization they're fighting a vampire, and Astarion wastes exactly zero time thrusting a rapier directly into her heart.

The vampire instantly changes pace from attack to healing as he dashes towards you and leaves the bodies behind. You’re laid out a few metres away, curled into the fetal position and muttering nonsensical words into the humid air. A putrid green film coats your armor, and Astarion wrinkles his nose at the spell. 

“Tav, can you hear me?”

Your eyes find him, familiar but distant and darting about all over the cavern. Astarion recognizes the after effects of a Fear spell, and the Ray of Sickness’ grotesque slime. He was fairly certain the sorcerer had struck you with a bout of sickness while you were paralyzed by fear, hallucinating figures of great evil and unstoppable power. 

“...’starion?” 

“Fortunately for you, yes.” He quips, trying not to let his voice quiver. “If only I was a Cleric.”

Your eyes search his face, landing quickly on his mouth. Astarion freezes as you tense. “V-Vampire.”

His first instinct is to frown, concealing his fangs from your warped mental state. “All the better to keep you safe. Now come on, we need to make haste back to camp so our resident Cleric-”

You clutch at his collar, a wheeze escaping you. Your frenzied eyes have moved away from his fangs to something in the distance, apparently deciding he was less of a threat. “It’s coming. ‘Starion, please, please, get me out of here.”

Astarion recognizes the delusional panic lacing your voice and chooses to hush you softly instead of turning around. He’s determined not to feed the plague gnawing at your mind, and not to let it invade his. You’re the first thing that’s motivated him, loved him for two centuries and he is terrified to see you in such a state. Every other wound has been bandaged or healed shortly thereafter by Shadowheart, but this is different. He couldn’t cover this with gauze, and nothing in his repertoire includes healing of the mind. Rest and comfort will be the best cure for you. 

“It’s a spell, darling.” He coaxes you into looking back at him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

There’s no stopping the feral gleam in your gaze and Astarion knows you need to get somewhere safe to rest, to be rid of this ailment. He ignores the stink of your gear and scoops you into his arms, immediately angered by the tremors wracking your body. Your arms wrap tight around his statuesque neck and shoulders. 

“They’re everywhere.” You whimper into his collar, pointing towards the Duergar’s bodies. 

Curiosity gets the best of him. “What’s everywhere?” 

“The sh-shadows.” You manage, fingers swiping through half-dried blood on his face. “They’re coming.”

Astarion curses Halsin under his breath. The camp’s talks of making it through the Shadow-Cursed lands had been a hot topic as of late, brought to them by Halsin’s tales of suffocating darkness and misery. It was true you had to navigate through them, but Astarion had his own qualms with wasting their time trying to fix it in order to please the Druid. Especially since said Druid had been eyeing you up as if he were starving each time you saunter across camp.

“There’s too many of your glowing mushrooms here to be any threatening shadows, dear.”

Astarion trudges further into the hollow, finding a small secluded cove to one side. It’s as if the Gods were anticipating someone making a camp out of it - the small opening is no more than a metre wide, and damp lichen hangs in wisps from overhead. Fungi of numerous colors and brightness glow around you both, and there’s a moment of worry that they've stumbled into a transportation circle. The last thing he needs is to be unwittingly thrust to the surface in the Hag’s putrid swamp or a Gnoll’s den. A few fleeting taps with his toes stir no magic in the foliage, and Astarion feels comfortable enough to set you down.

He digs through both your backpacks for supplies, coming up with two bedrolls and enough wood to stack for a half-ass campfire. It takes only a couple minutes  to get your outer layer of clothes off and your body settled on a bedroll before Astarion moves onto the fire. 

Dancing flames have your rapt attention when they spring up from the wood. “No shadows.”

The child-like tone you carry in your confusion tugs at Astarion’s dead heart. “Correct, my sweet. No shadows here. Just a vampire and a very, very confused monk.”

You seem to settle in between bouts of coughing. Astarion sheds his armor to lessen the smell of sickness and looks through his pack once again, coming up empty for any elixir to remedy your fear. He instead stands to peek out of your makeshift camp, confident that as you settle your condition may improve. 

“N-No!” You burst out into a fit as the vampire moves away, one hand clutching his boot. “You can’t leave me here.”

Any intention of looking out is forgotten as you begin to cry. Astarion hushes you like a scared animal, pulling the bed rolls together and joining you on the floor. He indulges you in a rare moment of gentility, pulling you into his side and whispering into your hair. These moments back at camp are rare, saved for when your mates are asleep or out of sight. 

It isn’t until you pull away from the crook of his neck that he notices your eyes are sharper, no longer darting about or hazed over with artificial fear. Despite this, tears still leak from them. 

“Tav? Are you all right?”

You sniff softly. “I’m so tired, Astarion. And I feel terrified… like something’s watching me. But something in me knows it’s not real.”

He nods, tongue running along his fangs. “Damned sorcerer that ambushed us struck you with a Fear spell.”

“I had a dream that we were near Moonrise Towers.” You flounder for a moment, “There were shadows everywhere.” 

“Not a dream, I’m afraid. More a hallucination than anything.” Astarion explains, “A real drag to bring along after the fight, you were.”

His teasing is welcome, chasing away the worst tendrils of darkness licking at your mind. “Cheeky… But I’ve never taken the blow from a Fear spell before. This is awful.”

Astarion can tell your mind is still fearful despite breaking through the confusion, parasite reaching out to his in flashes of white hot panic and terror. Your heart is racing, the ever-so-tempting vein in your neck throbbing in sync. It’s a juxtaposition against your determined face, trying so hard to remain strong. 

“Afraid so… I’ll be speaking with Halsin about his persistence in this shadow curse solution. No need for it to plague you like this. Especially seeing as we haven’t even trudged our way through the Underdark yet.” Astarion’s voice is sharp and surprisingly protective. 

“Astarion, I do feel obligated-”

“You should feel obligated to do nothing. You already play peacemaker for these morons, no need for them to dump all their hopes and dreams on you. Especially when your mind uses them to terrify you.”

A weak chuckle escapes you, and your fingers toy with the fabric of his undershirt. “I think the effects of the spell were to blame for my terror.”

“The effects of the spell are determined by the worries in your mind. In other words, the man of the forest can take them all elsewhere.”

You snort at his distaste towards Halsin, as it’s not the first time you’ve noticed. 

A particularly loud drip of water somewhere in the hollow causes you to jolt into Astarion, adrenaline still coursing like fire through your body. “Gods. How long am I going to feel like a mouse?”

Astarion grips you a little tighter, “Until you rest, most likely.”

“Are you going to meditate?” You ask, curling into his side. 

“I’ll be keeping watch. You need to sleep. Heal your mind from this wretched curse.” Astarion’s words are a little too aggressive, his own nervous mind still concerned for your wellbeing above all else. 

You’re familiar with the tone, and can only smile softly at the vampire’s inability to express concern without placing blame. Perhaps all this talk of a Shadow Curse had caused you to be plagued by such figures in the depths of the spell, but you don’t place blame on Halsin. 

Though, you were certain Astarion would never see it that way. 

He’s taken a moment to relax now, laying on his back with an arm behind his head. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked over his. Astarion’s other hand traces patterns onto yours, lazy circles that lull your mind into a quiet sense of security. The terror subsides ever so slowly, intensity halved while lying in his arms. 

“Astarion?”

“Hm?” 

“I’m okay, you know.”

A huff answers, and a brief rush of words. “I’m still blaming the Druid.”

“Of course you are.”

_______________________________________

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Masterlist | Send me ideas

[pedrospatch]

the road ahead l preview (j. miller series)

a/n📝 in honor of hitting 4k followers this weekend, I decided to post a little glimpse at what I have been brainstorming: a full length series for the to do the right thing universe. I have been toying around with this idea for a while now and to be honest, I am really terrified taking on such a big challenge and writing this story, but also kind of excited too? part of me feels like I’m going to be in waaaay over my head but oh well lmao.

the first chapter is still a draft, but this scene is complete. what do we think? should i do it? please let me know your thoughts!

“Frank?” You knelt in front of his wheelchair and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“We need you to take Gracie with you,” Frank told you, softly. His blue eyes had gone red, brimming with tears that he was trying his absolute hardest to hold back. Behind him, Bill stood there with his hand on his partner’s shoulder and you could have sworn that he was fighting back tears too.

“What?” You and Joel hissed out in unison. While you couldn’t see him, you could imagine the look of shock on his face mirrored yours as well.

“We need you to take her with you,” he repeated.

You stared up at Frank, your eyes wide in pure and utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever this illness is, it’s progressing fast, way too fast. Look at me. The last time you were here, I could still walk. That was what, just a few months ago?” Frank let out a small and humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting worse with every day that passes. I can’t do anything for myself, let alone for Gracie. I’m in the most excruciating and unbearable pain and the reality is that I don’t have all that much time left.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before saying, “If I’m going to die, then I’m going to die in peace, not in agony.”

Your heart sank deeply, realizing what he’d meant by that.

“What about Bill?”

Joel’s gruff voice came from behind you, strained and tight.

“He can’t raise her alone. And besides, he’s made his choice to go with me.” Frank put his hand over his beloved partner’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder.

You glanced over your shoulder back at Joel, who just stood there, the color drained from his face.

“How could we put her through that?” You asked, your voice thick with emotion as you turned back to look at Frank. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it will be for her to go with us?”

“She’s right. We’re goin’ across the fuckin’ country to get Ellie where she needs to be,” Joel reminded them. “We don’t know what kinda shit is out there or what we’re goin’ to run into. So how the fuck do you two expect us to take along a fuckin’ child?”

“Ellie’s a child,” Bill pointed out to him.

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen, not three—”

Frank held up a hand to stop him.

Finally, a tear slid down the side of his face. “Look, this isn’t a choice that we want to make, Joel. But let’s face it. I’m sick and Bill is old. Gracie will wind up alone.” He swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know you just wanted her to be safe, and sure, maybe she was safer with us here than in the zone for a while, but I don’t think that we thought this all the way through. I don’t think we looked far enough into the future. At some point, Gracie was going to lose us both.”

You turned and looked into the living room where Gracie was showing Ellie her favorite teddy bear.

“What’s his name?” Ellie had asked her.

“Teddy.”

She snorted, ruffling her hair. “Real original, kid.”

Gracie giggled, playfully swatting her hand away.

“I know she loses either way.” Frank’s hoarse voice garnered your attention once again. “I know it’s an incredibly dangerous risk, taking her with you. But it’s either that or she winds up alone.”

“We took care of her for as long as we could,” Bill said, quietly. “Now it’s your turn.”

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 9

After your disastrous call with your parents, you decide to take yourself baby shopping. You invite Santi.

Warnings: A long chapter. Mentions of being sick, so emetophobia warning. Brief mention of unsupportive family members. Some swearing. Had to find a shopping mall in Florida and navigate through it so please excuse the inaccuracies on which stores are actually in there. Like mega fluffy towards the end. Barely proofread. Word count: 4,974 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This isn't my favourite chapter, it didn't go the way I had planned it, and even after a few rewrites it's still doesn't feel right. Also, I wrote so much of this before my One Drive decided to crash and it didn't save anything, despite me having my autosave on, so I lost like 5 hours worth of work. And I happened to have been written during a bad week at work so it's probably not my best.

Part 8 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 10

The following weeks after your disastrous call with your parents and sisters were a blur of work and preparations of pregnancy and birth. Your company’s new clients, who were ‘happy with the updates to their social media, and a few print outs every now and then’, were taking up most of your time, but that wasn’t an awful lot of time. So when you were at home, you were reading all the baby books you could find, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

Regarding your birth, you had been looking into a birth plan. You wanted to go as naturally as you possibly could. You were interested in a home birth, with a birthing pool. You read up about the benefits of being in a familiar environment and an unhurried birth, but you were carrying twins. It would be more difficult than a single baby birth, and what if something went wrong? What if you had to be rushed to the hospital? If there was an emergency, you didn’t want to wait for an ambulance and travel. And also, you would need a bigger place for that, which may not have happened for you yet. So, you were leaning towards a birth at the hospital. Sure, it won’t be as relaxed as you would have liked but if you wait as long as possible to go, then you wouldn’t be there for long. Your insurance did only cover a three day stay at the hospital.

 You’d talk it through with Santi, but you’re not going to see him until your next appointment.

Your bad mood hadn’t gone unnoticed. Emily had been hovering over you for the past few days, doing odd jobs for you and just generally keeping an eye on you. You’d be flattered if she wasn’t so…concerned all the time.

“Is everything okay?” Emily asked you for the eightieth time that week.

You don’t even react anymore. “I’m fine, Emily,” you answer robotically, almost a habit to you now.

“You just seem really down,” Emily said, pouting as she leaned forward in her chair, looking at you with sad eyes.

“I had a fight with my family, that’s all,” you replied. “It’s nothing new.”

She stared at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. A snack or a coffee.”

You glance at her as she turned back to her computer. You were convinced she knew about the pregnancy. She hadn’t outright said it, or indicated otherwise, and yeah, Emily was nice, but not this nice. You wondered if Santi had said anything, but when you had asked about it in the past, he didn’t sound like he’d told Emily.

You shake your head at yourself and return to your computer. You’re just being paranoid. And a Negative Nancy.

Although your bump was starting to show a little bit, even as early was you were, and it wouldn’t be long until you had to come out to work that you were expecting. You had already drafted an email up to Harriet to send whenever you were ready, you just needed to get to that point. But you were enjoying your own little pregnancy bubble for now, you had time to tell her, and the rest of the office.

You sigh as you lean back in your chair, staring at the email trail you had going with a potential new client. You needed some new clothes. Your pants were getting tighter each week and you were uncomfortable most days. When you were at home, you lived in a pair of sweatpants that belongs to a long-lost ex-boyfriend, in times gone by. You never bothered to get in touch to return them after your break-up, because, honestly, they were too comfy to go back. Maybe you could treat yourself to some retail therapy that weekend; you hadn’t started buying baby things yet, don’t people already have at least a few items at this point? Maybe you should get started.

You could invite Santiago and give yourself the opportunity to talk about the birth plan.

You bite your lip as you stood from your desk. “I’ll be right back,” you say to Emily, already turning and pulling your phone out of your pocket. You barely heard her acknowledgement before you make your way out of your office and to reception.

You scroll for his number before calling him. It doesn’t take long until Santi’s answering, “Hey, cariño, everything okay?”

You pause, suddenly think that you’re being too forward; too hasty. You could have waited to call until after work when you were at home. Hell, you didn’t even need to call, you could have just texted him. All because you wanted to know if he wanted to go baby shopping with you this weekend. This wasn’t an urgent thing, you could have made the same arrangements tomorrow. You shake your head at yourself, muttering about what an idiot you were, about to tell him ‘goodbye’, you ‘hadn’t mean to call him’ –

“Hey,” he called your name down the phone at your sudden silence. “Are you all right? Is something wrong?”

“N-no, sorry,” you say, feeling your face warm and suddenly feeling shy. “I didn’t mean to call. Well, I did, but I should have called after work, I’m sorry. Did I take you away from something important?”

“No, not at all,” Santi replied.

You both fall into silence. It wasn’t awkward but it wasn’t comfortable either. You faltered for a moment before you blurted out, “Do you want to come shopping with me? This weekend? On Saturday, I mean. For the babies?”

You were met with quiet, and you had thought he had hung up on you, but he eventually answered, “Sure. Anything in particular you were looking for?”

“No, not really,” you say. “I just…wanted to have a look around, you know? Get some clothes or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good,” Santi replied. “There’s some baby store that Frankie recommended, we could go there.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you say. “I can…meet you there or we could together, if you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Santi says, before he blurts out, “I can pick you up. If you want.”

You bite your lip. You’d made the point since you found out you were pregnant to keep things as separate as you could, more for Santi’s sake really (and because you didn’t want to rely on anyone). But, your chest warms, for some reason, at the thought of going together to the store.

You give a small smile. “Okay. It’s 11am okay or is that too early?”

“That’s fine, cariño,” says Santi. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“I’ll see you then,” you say before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

You wait outside your apartment building for Santiago. You’d been thinking about your shopping trip all week and you were feeling oddly nervous. You weren’t sure why, you’d seen Santiago many times before, but not this…casually. Not regarding the pregnancy, anyway. The only time you had really spent together was for prenatal appointments.

Throughout the week, you were toying with the idea of texting him, cancelling the whole shopping trip and just going by yourself, or even with your friends. But you hesitated, since Santiago said he wanted to be involved, and it would be a good bonding experience for you both. You were in each other’s lives now for the next nineteen years, after all. You wanted your children to grow up in happy, healthy households, where their parents could communicate openly.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Santi pulled up in front of you in his truck. You desperately wanted to ask him if he was thinking about getting a car, just something that would be able to fit two car seats. But you’d already changed so much of his life already, and you didn’t want to push his boundaries. You climbed into his truck, sending him a ‘hi’ as you close the door behind you.

You buckle yourself in as you ask, “So where is this place anyway?”

“Florida Mall,” Santi replied as he set off. “It’s called The Children’s Place. Frankie says it’s mostly clothing but there’s a Dillard’s and a Macy’s for other stuff if we wanted to look.”

You nod. “Yeah, okay, that’s fine. I was looking at Ikea for the big furniture anyway,” you say. “And I need a bigger place for that, so it can wait for now.”

Santi nodded. “I can help you out with that too, if you need,” Santi offered, glancing at you for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. “Don’t want you lugging around heavy furniture when you’re pregnant.”

You push down the warm feeling you felt in your chest as you nod at him. “I’ll let you know when I have it.”

There was an awkward pause before Santi broke it. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you, and I get that it might be a little early but…what’s the situation going to be when they’re here?”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Do I need to get furniture too?” Santi asked, giving you another glance. “Because it’s not a problem if I do. I have a spare room and it’s big enough for two cribs. Maybe. I’ll have to clear it out, I’m using it as storage for the moment.”

You stare at him for a moment, that warm feeling coming back to your chest tenfold. He wanted to have the baby furniture at his place? He wanted to have the chaos and the mess that two babies would bring? You vaguely think of if he brought women home back to his place, how they’ll question if he had kids or where the kids were, would it ruin his game? What if he decided to get with someone seriously and they didn’t want the baggage of children from a previous relationship (using the term very loosely). Like you mentioned before, you didn’t want to be telling him what to do. You’d encroached on his life enough already.

“Hey, I know those cogs are working overtime, don’t overthink it,” said Santiago at your silence. “I’ve told you, I’m in this with you. I don’t mind if my life changes a little bit.”

You take a deep breath before letting it go. “Okay.” You nod. “You should get some furniture. I want them to have a relationship with you so it would be nice if they could spend some time with you at your place.”

Santiago nodded before turning to you and giving you a closed smile. “Okay then.”

You chat idly for the rest of the journey about what you had both been up to since the last time you saw each other, and you brought up how your friends were doing and how your family now know that you were pregnant.

“And? How did it go?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in question. “With your family?”

You go quiet before answering, “Not as pleased as my friends were.”

You leave it at that. He doesn’t pry, just gives a nod, and says he’s sorry to hear that they weren’t as supportive. You shrug, looking away from him because you refused to cry about it anymore than you already have, telling him that you’ll get over it and you had him and your friends. It would be your parents and sisters missing out, not your babies.

You pull into the mall and Santiago parks as close as he could to the entrance, claiming that you shouldn’t be walking as far.

You laugh at him as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I’m pregnant, not elderly.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve heard you complain enough to Jennifer about your joint aches to know you’re gonna want to sit down in about an hour.” He starts climbing out his truck.

Your mouth falls open in mock offence as you climb out the truck also. “That’s so rude, Santi!” you close the door behind you.

“Rude, but true. Come on,” he nods towards the mall entrance before you join him, walking together into the busy mall.

You take a look at the mall map, finding the store Frankie recommended. “It’s towards the back. It’s next to a Build-a-Bear.”

“We can look in those too, if you want,” Santi says.

You grin. “I always wanted a Build-a-Bear when I was a kid,” you said. “My mom would never let me get one.” Your face falls at the mention of your mother.

Santiago, ever the observant, quickly changes the subject. “We can get one each for them. We’ll both pick an outfit for them.” He grins at you.

You take a moment before plastering a smile on your face. “Sure. Oh! Can we stop at a candy store first?”

“We can,” Santi replied, how brow furrowed slightly. “Why?”

“I’ve ran out of watermelon Sourpatch Kids,” you reply, already walking through the mall for the closest candy shop. “I’m constantly craving them. It’s all I want to eat. Think I might be funding them alone.”

Santiago gave a small chuckle, shaking his head at you. “We can get all the Sourpatch Kids you want.”

“As long as it’s watermelon,” you said, giving him a pointed look.

He sighs in amusement, putting his hand on your back and leading you through into the mall as he nods. “As long as it’s watermelon.”

It doesn’t take you long to find the candy shop, Santi making the joke that your pregnancy gave you the nose of a bloodhound. You snorted a laugh before buying four packs of watermelon Sourpatch Kids. Santi’s eyes widened as you stuffed them in your bag before opening one as you both walk out of the store. “That many?” he asked.

You gave him a look before he raised his hands slightly in defence. “They’re so good,” you mutter, before chewing on a sweet slowly, giving a light moan as the taste.

“Cravings hit you this week?” Santi asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you say, already eating another sweet. “They’re all I think about. These and Diet Coke.” You shake the open bag of candy for emphasis. You hesitate before asking if he wanted one, and to your relief, he said no.

“Not a candy kind of guy,” Santi said as you both meander through the mall.

“Good, ‘cause I only offered to be polite,” you said, taking another from the bag.

Santi huffed a laugh through his nose before nodding around the stores. “So, where do we start?”

“Let’s go to the place Frankie recommended,” you say. “I’m curious.”

You both made your way to the store, grabbing a basket as you walk in. The place was full of colours, with character shirts and holiday specific clothing. Santiago stuck close by, taking a look around and asking for your opinions on some things. Between the two of you, you ended up grabbing a copious amount of baby vests and baby grows, mostly white, and some tiny socks which you had internally freaked out over at the size (so tiny!).

You also excitedly grabbed a few holiday themed outfits for the next year.

“That’s hideous,” Santi said as you look at an obnoxious Christmas jumper for a nine-month-old.

You smirked, obviously agreeing with him, but deciding to mess with him a bit. “But it’s so cute, and small. Can you imagine how cute a little baby would be in this?”

“Please don’t get it,” laughed Santiago.

“I’m gonna get it,” you say, putting it in your basket before grinning. “To spite you.”

You pretended a few moments later that you hadn’t seen him discreetly pick up the jumper and put it back on the rack. And you both didn’t say anything about the ‘missing jumper’ when you went to pay either.

With Santi carrying your bags that he offered with some dispute from you, you make your way to any other baby shops you could find. You got a little teary (damn hormones!) as you looked at the shoes and more socks, and some of the costume you found, like the little Mickey and Minnie set you found, or a Beauty and the Beast dress, which happened to be your favourite movie when you were a kid.

When you made your way into Cotton On Kids, you found yourself some maternity pants and jeans, and that’s where you realised that Santiago was a browser. He briefly mentioned that he wasn’t much of a shopper for himself, never mind other people. Especially kids. But you saw him eyeing up a pair of white sneakers and a couple of Metallica t-shirts. You encouraged him to buy them if he liked them; they could stay at his place and the babies could wear them when they were staying over.

He hesitated before grabbing two pairs of each, looking down at the shirts and thumbing at the material before smirking up at you. “My favourite band,” he said.

You smiled and shook your head as you went to make your purchases.

After a while, you did in fact need to sit down, just like Santi predicted. You both decided it was probably a good stopping point to have some lunch anyway, since you had nearly worked your way through two of the four bags of candy you had bought earlier. You took a seat as Santi went to Five Guys, getting some burgers and fries, and the biggest Diet Coke they offered.

“How’s your morning sickness?” Santi asked as he sat down opposite you.

You shrug. “Better but still not great. I’ve taken to drinking ginger tea instead of coffee nowadays to ease it.”

“And does it?” Santi asked, unwrapping his burger.

You pulled a face but nodded anyway, unwrapping your own burger. “It did a bit but it tastes disgusting. I’m going to give mint tea a try, since Gabrielle told me try that with lemonade. It helped her, apparently.”

You talk about stuff happening at work, your new clients, your suspicion that Emily might know you’re pregnant, something that Santiago laughed at.

“She had to take in a book for me,” he replied. “��The Expectant Dad's Survival Guide’ that Frankie’s kindly let me borrow.”

You give him a swat on the arm. “You’re the reason she thinks something’s up,” you laugh. You make a mental note to get your own books.

You eat your food and talk some more about your upcoming appointment next week and you mentioned to Santi that you were thinking about a birth plan; since you were having twins, you were likely to go into early labour, so you wanted to be as prepared as possible.

“And what are you going to do?”

You sigh. “I think I’ll just go for a standard hospital birth, as natural as possible. I’d like a home birth but I’m paranoid something is going to go wrong.”

“You can talk to Jennifer about it,” said Santi. “She’ll know more about it than we will.”

You finish your food, feeling more relaxed than you did before as Santiago grabbed the bags. You make a quick detour to the bathroom to puke your guts up. You might have to give up cheese at this point, since it always seems to trigger your morning sickness. You come out of the bathroom, Santi handing you a bottle of water that he very nicely got for you. Your heart swells as you take a sip before you both make your way round the rest of the mall.

You do, in fact, take a look in Build-a-Bear, but decide on getting them another day. You made sure Santi promised to come with you.

After a few more stops (and a few more bags of toys and clothing for the babies and you), you make your way into H&M. Gabrielle had mentioned they were good for kids clothing, but you did notice everything was looking a little sad and beige, but you gave Gabrielle the benefit of the doubt. Santi had wandered off since he mentioned he needed to look at some jeans for himself, so you moseyed through the clothing, spotting a few bits of clothing you liked.

You don’t pay much attention to wear you’re walking, and you give a small ‘oomf!’ as you lightly bump into someone, quickly apologising before you take a good look at him, your eyes widening. “Craig!”

He looks at you with confusion before a spark of recognition takes over his face. “Oh, hey,” he says, recalling your name. “How are you?”

You hadn’t heard from this guy since you cancelled your date when you found out you were pregnant. “Uh, yeah, I’m good. How’re you?”

“Not so bad,” Craig replies. He clears his throat and nods to your pile of baby clothes. “For you, or…”

You blink in confusion for a moment before looking down at the clothes. You give a laugh. “Yeah, uh…for me.” You show him your bump for a few seconds. “Just coming out of my first trimester.”

“Right,” Craig said.

“You?” you asked, nodding to the clothes in his hand.

“Nephew’s birthday.”

“Oh.” You both fall into an awkward silence.

You open your mouth to tell him goodbye, but he quickly cuts you off, “I’m sorry that I never got back to you. About our date.”

You make a noise of nonchalance. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything, I cancelled on you.”

“I know, but I was being a little bitter about it and I’m sorry, but now I see that…” he nods to your clothes bundle. “You had some…stuff going on.”

You sigh. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t feeling great, and I found out I was pregnant that night and it was…very unexpected, so…”

Craig’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, I didn’t know you cancelled from that.”

He was as good looking as you remember him, from his pictures. He was handsome, in a Clark Kent kind of way. Tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, he was a genuine heartthrob. It was what attracted you to him in the first place. That, and the fact he made you laugh, and he was charming, and was good fun. You wondered very briefly what would have happened if you had gone out on that date with him, if you had just put off testing for one or two days.

“Yeah, it was…a lot,” you say. “It's, uh, settled down, finally. How about you? What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, the usual work stuff.” He shrugged. “Work’s busy. Trying to find some free time for hobbies.” He gave a small chuckle.

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say. “All my time at the moment is prenatal appointments and work. I’m working on setting more boundaries for myself.”

“Good for you,” said Craig. “It’s hard balancing work and life, never mind being pregnant.”

“With twins,” you say.

“With twins, no way!” Craig said. “Congrats!”

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a smile.

“Hey, hermosa,” Santi greeted, suddenly appearing at your side. “I gotta get these!” he grins excitedly, holding the small jerseys of a team you weren’t familiar with in his hands before he finally looks between you and Craig. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

There was something to his tone that made you think he knew he was interrupting something. “This is, erm…Craig.” You gesture to Craig. “Craig, this is Santiago,” you introduce him. “He’s the babies’ father.”

Santiago gave Craig a tight-lipped smile before holding his hand out to him. “Nice to meet you.”

Craig smiled before shaking his hand. “You too.”

“How do you know Craig?” Santiago asked you, giving you a too nonchalant look as he places his free hand on the base of your back. You mentally note it was the second time that day he’d done it that day.

You look between them before clearing your throat. “Craig and I were going to go on a date.”

“She cancelled on me,” Craig joked.

You look at him with an amused look on your face, gasping in mock upset. “Because I found out I was pregnant.”

“Oh,” Santiago said, looking between you both before he smirked. “She went on a date with me too and look what happened.” He motioned to your bump.

“Okay,” you say, grabbing Santiago’s arm, feeling your cheeks growing hot with sudden embarrassment. “Good to see you, Craig.” You call, already turning to walk away.

“You too,” Craig said. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You waved your hand in acknowledgement as you walk to the other side of the store.

You take a quick glance at Santi as you stop in the girl’s section and mindlessly start looking through dresses, just for something to do. Santi, the smug bastard, was smirking at you. “He seemed nice.”

“He was. He is,” you say, still looking through the clothes, a little more aggressively.

“You should ask him out,” Santi said. “Again.”

You pause for a moment before looking at him, an unamused look on your face. “No.”

“You’re single, you should,” Santiago said. “He didn’t seem to mind you were pregnant.”

“That’s not…look, it’s complicated,” you say. “No-one wants a pregnant woman as their date.”

“Are you looking to date?” Santiago asked.

You give him a look. “Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” Santiago said, blinking at you almost innocently.

“You are,” you say. “Why are we talking about my dating life? I haven’t even thought about dating since I found out I was carrying your spawn.”

Santiago snorted a laugh. “Charming.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Santi,” you say, turning away from him and back to the clothes, still not really looking at them. “I just wanted this to be a nice day, with you, about us and the babies.”

Santiago looked at you with an unreadable look on his face for a few moments. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know why you felt so embarrassed that you had ran into Craig. It had never been an issue for you before, running into an ex, but maybe it was because you were pregnant. Maybe it was because you were with Santi. Maybe it was because you just wanted to still be in your pregnancy bubble, with Santi, where everything wasn’t so fucked up, where you could pretend to be in a loving, stable relationship for the time being.

After a moment you sigh, averting your gaze. “Sorry. That was unfair to you, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you’re right,” said Santi, slowly nodding. “I was a bit of an asshole, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as possessive, I was just messing with you.”

You bite your lip at him as he looks down at the jerseys in his hands, and you know it’s so he doesn’t have to look at you, to keep his hands busy. You frown at him, feeling bad before you lightly clear your throat. “I’m sorry. Really. I know it’s no excuse, but my hormones are all over the place and I was really nervous about today – “

“Why?” Santiago asked, suddenly looking up at you.

“What?” you asked, blinking at him as if you missed his question.

“Why were you nervous about today?”

“Because…” you pause, sucking in your lips as you looked down at your shoes in further embarrassment before deciding just to suck it up. “Because this is the first time we’ve spent together outside of my appointments…and our date.”

Santi just looked at you in confusion. “So?”

“So,” you emphasise. “I just…wanted today to be a good day. I wanted to just feel a little bit normal about this whole thing and not just the couple who aren’t actually a couple who got pregnant after a one-night stand.”

He goes silent again as he stares at you, and you feel your cheeks burning again. God, you just can’t seem to keep your mouth shut today. Your brain obviously isn’t working and it’s probably best if you just stick to being casual with Santi and not try to force anything, like you said before.

You open your mouth to tell him that you should probably go, but he beat you to it.

“This is still new to both of us,” he said. “And I know you have your way of doing things and you want to be the best you can at this, and I don’t doubt you will,” Santi raises his eyebrows pointedly at you at you give him a look. “But you have to remember that it’s not just you. Okay? I feel like I’m walking on eggshells because you’re so Goddamn independent that I’m worried I’m going to say the wrong thing and upset you. Like before.”

You sigh, throwing your head back. “I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologising when you haven’t done anything wrong,” Santiago said. “Stop worrying you’re going to upset me.”

You give another sigh before you look at him. “We need to learn to communicate better.”

Santi faltered before nodding. “We do.”

“We should talk more, outside of,” you motion to your bump. “This.”

“We should,” he gave another nod.

“I’m…” you were about to apologise again but stopped yourself, deciding to go in a different direction. “I’m glad you wanted to come with me today.”

“Are you kidding? And miss out on embarrassing you in front of an almost date?” Santiago grinned as you swatted him arm.

“Asshole,” you muttered before motioning for him to follow you. “Come on, let’s go and buy these football jerseys,” you say, smiling at the small shirts still in his hands.

“It’s a baseball team,” Santiago replies, smirking and falling into step with you.

“Shut up,” you say, giving him a good-natured shove as he laughs at your blunder.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath

[creativepawsworld]

Just Like Magic

Pairing = Neil Lewis (Watching The Detectives) x Reader 

Summary = Neil is following along with another one of Violets adventures. He is getting married. Can Y/n stop it before it’s too late. 

Warnings = Language, Grammar...

Word Count = 1264

Note- One shot that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit. This place is lacking in Neil Lewis content lol so here is a one shot... Enjoy

“Lucien where is Neil?” You asked rushed, hurdling through the glass door of Gumshoe Video. Lucien looking up from his spiderman comic book to look at me with wide eyes before returning to his relaxed state, eyes returning to the book in front of him like this was a daily occurrence for him.

 “He’s not here, Violet whisked him away. Leaving me in charge, again.” He muttered, lifting his right index finger to his tongue, dampening it and turning the to the next page, careful not to damage any corners.

 “Where did they go Lucien? Don’t you check your messages?” You question rummaging through the cash desk in hopes of finding something, anything that would tell me the address of the where they were heading but only finding old receipts, posters and mail that had been left unopened for some time.

 “No why?” He replied, completely unphased by my sense of urgency. A white brochure catching you attention next to his foot, bending down, your breathe hitched in my throat as you read over the tiny writing, finding the address you were looking for.

 “I need to take your car” You inform him standing to your feet and taking his car keys from beside the cash register.

 “NEIL’S GETTING MARRIED” You heard Lucien yell just as you ran out the door. The door closing with a bang as you jumped into Lucien’s beat up Ford Mondeo out front, speeding to the little church at the end of Maple drive.

 You had ran into every red light on the way here, the tears were falling from your eyes as you parked close to Neil’s car, hoping and praying you wasn’t too late.

 Running towards the wooden door, you inhaled deeply pushing it open but due to how light the door was, it flew from your hands, smacking off the concrete wall behind it alerting everyone, including the church mice that you arrived.

 “Oh god, I’m so sorry” You called to the pastor who was standing at the end of the altar, bible opened in his hands with an annoyed expression on his face as he looked at you. “You have really oiled them door huh?” You tried to joke lightly only for it to fall on deaf ears.

 “Y/N what are you doing here?” Neil asked wide eyes as he walked towards you, a shocked expression on his face. He was wearing that dorky light blue shirt with the ruffles down the front, accompanied with a blazer and navy pants. His statement converse on his feet.

 “You can’t do this Neil” You sigh, eyes pleading with him not to go through with this crazy charade.

 “And why not Y/N? I love Violet, she loves me we want to do this”

 “What about me?” You ask unsure of the words leaving your mouth but this was your last chance. Neil’s eyes slide over towards Violet and the pastor before returning to your gaze, bewilderment obvious. “Why do you think I stayed late with you all those nights after work? Wore those stupid costumes with you Neil? Watched those terrible movies”

 “Because that’s what friends do?” He asked, shuffling between his left and right foot as he scratched the back of his head.

 “No because I fell in love with you. Don’t you see that?” You asked practically pleading with him at this point to at least acknowledge your feelings.

 “Everything alright here Neil?” Violet asked stepping towards us, a hop in her step as she linked her hands around his arm.

 Jealous coursed through your veins as you looked at the woman in front of you, she had given him countless heart attacks and almost got him shot, literally shot to breaking his heart all for her sick twisted messed up fantasy world and yet he stuck by her.

 “You what?” Neil asked, a concerned look on his face like he was trying to solve the worlds hardest maths puzzle. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 “Because I’m a coward. I was afraid you would reject me” You tell him, leaning your feet outward no doubt ruining the sides of your converse as you stood in what many considered an uncomfortable position.

 “Neil come on the pastor is waiting” Violet began to tug on his arm now, her gaze flicking to yours with a glare.

 “I’ll be right there” Neil muttered towards her, shaking her hands from his arm before running a hand down his face. “You should have told me before now Y/N”

 “I know, I’m sorry” You retreated, heart breaking at his choice of words. You didn’t want to stick around and here the actually rejection, it would hurt to much so you began to back out of the small church. “Sorry again, about the…about the door” You called to the pastor again who this time, returned your gaze with a sympathetic nod, no doubt hearing what just happened.

 Nodding to no one in particular, you opened the door, gently this time waiting for it to close before you took off running towards the car. Inside where it was safe, you allowed yourself to lose it. Your hands slapped against the steering wheel and sides of the seat. You were too late.

 Deciding you didn’t want to stick around for them to leave, you put the car into drive, hitting every green light this time on your way back to the video store to return the cars to Lucien. The lights were clearly a sign from the universe that you shouldn’t have ignored, the red lights before clearing telling you not to do it but you didn’t listen.

 “Did you find him?” Lucien asked when you walked through the door, instantly clocking onto your tears. “I’m sorry Y/N, I honestly didn’t think he would chose her. He never shut up about you”

 “Don’t, don’t do that. It’s over I was too late” You huff putting the cars into his open expected hand. “Um I probably won’t be around for a bit, you know…with everything so see you around?” You stated, holding up your hand unsure of what to actually do with it.

 “You don’t have to do that, we are still your friends”

 “Yeah I know but it will be weird with her around. For me at least, I just need to lick my wounds” You reply backing away towards the door, opening the single glass door planning to make your escape for the foreseeable future when a car’s tyres screeching had you looking out to the street.

 “Y/N, Y/N” Neil shouted climbing awkwardly out the car door, almost falling out to the road with his clumsiness. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that”

 “It’s fine Neil, I’m happy for you. Truly” You respond willing the tears away to send the newly wedded grown your best.

 “Why?” He asked, an almost disgusted look on his face as he stared at you.

 “For your marriage, to Violet”

 “I didn’t marry her Y/N. It’s always been you”

 “What? No, Neil no, don’t say things you don’t mean”

 Instead of replying with words, he took two long strides forwards making his way to you and clasping his hands over your ears pulling your face close to his and placing a searing kiss on your lips. You had no idea so much passion and want could be construed through a kiss but somehow Neil managed it.

 “Does that prove what I mean?”

 “Not really, maybe one more” You grin wrapping your hands around the back of his head holding you close to you, lips working together just like magic.

[abellyfulloffriends]

Evergreen

I’ve had this story in my drafts for months and forgot it existed so I finally decided to post it somewhere.

Story contains: Soft, Safe, Nonfatal and Nonsexual Vore. Willing/Unwilling Vore. G/T Vore. Borrower Siblings, Human third party. ANGST SO MUCH ANGST. Hurt/Comfort. Switching perspectives. Also typos.

Jericho

Cold temperatures were lower than I ever expected this early. We’ve had a few too many nights where it falls below freezing, and it’s not even November. With such a low yield, My sister, Chloe, and I won’t be able to stay and shelter in place again. We barely made it by last year, and spent the spring recovering after she got sick. The two of us were bringing back what little we could find today, over the last week we picked the forest clean. Every berry picked, and every tree nut gathered. We even took the bitter weeds.

“This isn’t going to be enough. We wouldn't last even a month on this.” Chloe worries. She worries a lot. I offer to carry her satchel. She hands it over to me and wraps her tail around her body. “I’m cold Jericho…”

I don’t let her words get to me, if I stop to panic, neither of us will get through the winter. We trudge through the damp leaf litter. The wind whistles through the trees, and it is freezing across my bare face. Chloe huffs and runs ahead, bracing against the wind and pushing her body underneath a marked tree stump. She lifts a wooden door built into the side and I usher myself inside.

Chloe lays down on her side on the raised bed of evergreen needles. I set down our haul and began to get a fire going, striking for sparks. “Can you look through and see what needs to be eaten first? You should eat.” Chloe reaches over and silently opens her satchel first, flinching her hand back as she reaches in. “You okay?” I take notice of the splinters in her fingers. She carefully puts her hand back in and pulls out a clutch of acorns. “Here. These will go bad soon.”

I put down the flint and reach over for her hand, softly holding her wrist. “Hey, you okay?”

She sets down the acorns next to the firewood. “Just… scared.” She relents. “I’m worried about us, making it through the winter.” She sighs. “Thanks for asking, honestly, I’m also sore, these acorns are huge, and it's hard to haul them like this.” Chloe was right, being only six inches tall makes it hard to carry anything that wasn’t nearly microscopic.

I crack open an acorn, splitting it between the two of us. “I think we should try to propagate the dandelions during winter, in order to keep food stocks up.”

Chloe smiles, then frowns. “I wish it were that simple, but the soil is so dry and dead nothing grows, even weeds, sure they can handle the cold, but with the temperature not changing they won’t get water.” She slowly reaches for my hand, “Actually, I wanted to ask you about my plan.” I morph my face quizzically.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

She nods, “Thank you. Well, back in summer, I spent a lot of time on my own, and met some other borrowers. I want to try something they suggested. We should borrow from a human. I know you don’t like the idea, but it’s getting desperate.”

I crush another acorn under my foot. “That’s suicide.” I say flatly. “Humans eat borrowers like us, as do their pets. We’re nothing but prey to them.”

Chloe sighs under her breath, “I knew you’d act like this, but I can’t say I agree this time. I heard stories, Jericho. Stories about-”

“Stories. I heard stories too, and I’ve seen it too, you’ll get yourself killed.” I interject.

“It’s not that simple!” She raises her voice. “We will starve to death if we stay, I know you hate humans, you never made that a secret, but I have a plan. I won’t stay long, they don’t even have to know I’m there. I’ll get some supplies and drop them off by the river.” Chloe starts to shake, “I won’t be gone long, and I won’t overstay my welcome.”

I hang my head, “You better come back.”

Chloe looks at me, “Does that mean?”

“Yes. Go. But please be careful Chloe, and don’t get noticed.”

She quickly begins to gather a few things. I know I can’t argue with her, she’s always been headstrong, and as stubborn as me. She really does share my blood. “Here, take this too.” I hand her my gathering blade. “Just in case.”

Chloe

Jericho warned me a few dozen more times before I left that night. I bundled myself up a bit further, and made sure to bring my favorite gear. Sneaking into the human’s home wasn’t the most difficult thing, I managed to pick the lock on the window, a trick I learned last summer, with Jericho’s blade. My brother worries an awful lot for me, but I care more about making sure we get fed, then entertain his phobia. Humans can’t be all that bad, after two days of hiding out here, I haven’t been noticed, and I’ve collected enough food to last us the next month, a few more trips and by the end of week we would be set. I set out into the doorway near the kitchen.

The loud footsteps sound around the corner from across the room. I roll underneath a fallen article of clothing. I peak out as the human walks past. The size between us is difficult to describe. They tower over my hiding place, and reach down. The human grasps onto a plush cloth next to me. I cover my mouth, making sure not to give myself away. “Perfect, this will go perfectly with that cute top!” Mercifully, the human seems preoccupied. Soon enough they leave, giving me an opportunity to dash. Using my climbing gear, built out of scrap and threaded twine, the same gear my brother and I use to scale large trees, I hop up onto the lowest drawer of the cabinet, then looping the gear around the next handle, off the floor and into the drawer. I heard the sound of footsteps again, I quickly shut the drawer on myself and held my breath. Muffled through the wood I hear their voice again, “Mmm, Chocolate!” The carefree voice and lilt make me chuckle a bit, before I suddenly cup my mouth. I have to focus.

Soon, it’s nothing but silence. I push out against the drawer, but it doesn’t budge. The climbing gear is wedged between the lip of the drawer and the sliding railing. I wrap the rope of the gear around my wrist, and pull on it with my other hand, I extend the body weight and I feel a give. I pull it with my all, until the rope snaps. The force launches me backward, knocking me out.

As I open my eyes, the back of my head aches. And I can see light pouring from the slit in the drawer. I stumble forward to reach out for it, bumping my head on the top drawer. I cry out in pain, holding my head and falling over. Taking a second to breathe, I noticed a spot of dried blood on my forehead. I attempt to regain my composure. I push the pain back in my head and peek out of the drawer. I’m met with a strange sight, and blinding lights. Straining my vision, I make out the form of my satchel. Sitting on the floor, along with a gathering of small snacks. The lights seem to dim as I get closer, then it gets dark, looking up, the horror sets in as the human locks eyes with me. My body freezes.

“Hi there, little borrower.” Their voices sing. “You look hurt, do you need something for your head?” My voice is gone, I don’t know what to do. What would Jericho do? “Can you speak? Or at least understand me?” The human takes a step closer, holding something in their hand. “Here, have some chocolate!” The same tone from earlier. I get a sudden warmth in my chest, and before I know it, I’m holding out my hands. They place a small piece in my hands. “Oh! Where are my manners, I’m Brianna.”

I take a small nip of the chocolate. It’s sweet and incredibly rich. The rush of flavor forces me to smile. “C-Chloe…”

Brianna chuckles. “Chloe? That was your name? I love it!” The girl's cheerful demeanor invites me in. “So Chloe, what brings you here? I’m guessing you’re borrowing from me.” I don’t respond, and hesitate to move. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind at all, little one. I’m assuming you’re hungry then?”

“Please… Don’t hurt me…”

The human holds her hands to her chest, and kneels down slowly. “I won’t. You’re safe here, little one. There have been borrowers around here before, I’m more than happy to accommodate. May I pick you up?”

I shove the last bit of chocolate in my mouth and slowly nod, “Just… don’t eat me…” Brianna offers her hand to me and I tentatively place my knees down on her fingers. I expect her to suddenly grab me, but she remains steady. She hands me my satchel, and lifts me up to the countertop. I’m set down gingerly. The girl takes a single finger and strokes my hair. “You remind me of my dolls, uh, no offense of course.” She hands me a cloth, “Use this for your head, and rest your eyes. I’m going to make some soup for us.”

“Soup?” I inquire.

“Yes,” She snickers, “Because anything else would be hard to portion for you, soup is easy and quick and warm. And I suck at cooking, so I can��t mess it up either.”

Brianna and I exchange stories as the soup cooks. I tell her my favorite forest games as a kid, she describes the disasters she made in the kitchen. I slowly ease into telling this human my situation, confiding that my brother and I need help.

“Oh my sweet dear, that's terrible!” She tears her eyes off the stove. “Why didn't you tell me that before, I would be more than happy to take you both in for the winter.” Lightning surges in my chest.

“Wait… Really?” I’m incredulous. “You’d actually do that for two random strangers?”

Brianna doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Sure! After what you told me about how sick you got and how hard last winter was, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I knew I could have made a difference for you. Please extend my word to your brother, I’m sure you can win him over.” Brianna grabs a bowl for herself and a small saucer for me, and pour warm soup into our dishes. “Enjoy, Chloe. I bet you haven’t had a warm meal like this in forever. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.”

I take a sip of the soup, notes of celery and chicken dance on the taste buds. “Aww thanks, I will definitely tell him.” I drink more of the soup with fervor. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Brianna smiles warmly as I wipe my mouth. We both share a good laugh.

Jericho

I crest the hill, the sounds of midafternoon crickets are nearly everywhere as I eye up the river. It’s been nearly a week now of borrowing. My heart relaxes as I spot my sister sitting on the grass. I sit down next to her and embrace her lightly. “Glad to see you made it out. I really don’t like this, but I have to admit it was great getting all this food for the winter.” She sighs.

“I told you. I got this, I’m not in any danger.” Chloe stands. “Come on, let's go home, I can’t wait to go back for another haul tomorrow.” Her smile was infectious.

Yet I can’t help but wonder if she’s suddenly an adrenaline junkie, getting excited by risking her skin. “Aren’t you having a bit too much fun with this?” What are you not telling me, what happened between then and now? “Did anything happen while you were in there?”

Chloe looks me in the eye and stops walking. She groans, “Look, it’s not important right now, let's get home before dark.” Did she just dodge my question? “I’m okay, man, you don’t have to interrogate me.”

“I’m not!” I defend myself. “I’m worried! You’re in a house with a vicious monster, and I just want to know if you’re okay.” Sometimes it confuses me how she can be so casual around the subject of humans, doesn’t she know what they are?

“Vicious Monster? You don’t even know her.”

“...Her?...”

Chloe covers her mouth.

“What are you not telling me? Did the human notice you?”

“Her name is Brianna.” She sits under her breath.

Is she implying that she met the human? She couldn’t have, they would have killed her if she did. “Chloe, what are you saying?”

She shouts in frustration. “Fuck! Jericho, you are delusional!” I flinch. “All you’ve ever done is try to put this version of humans in my head that they’re some kind of rabid animal. Yet Brianna has treated me with more kindness and respect than you ever have!” Tears fill her eyes, all I can do is watch. “Furthermore, you always doubt my ability, yet all I’ve ever done for you is try to help you! Why are you like this?”

I raise my voice, “Because I can’t lose you too! I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help but be harsh because I want to survive! Being a borrower sucks, it’s a constant survival mission!”

“Then come with me! I forgive you, you're my brother, and no matter how much you hurt me, I still love you, because you are all I have.” She leans in to hug me. I don’t resist. “Even if you don’t trust the human, you can trust me. I only want what’s best for us, as a family.”

Tears are staining my eyes and I refuse to cry in front of her, I have to be strong. I don’t want her to see how much pain I’m in. “I- I can’t.” I hitch my breathing and force myself to calm. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chloe hugs me tighter. “You’ll come with me when you realize that I’m not the enemy. Brianna will be more than happy to help you understand how hurt you are, she already has helped me over the last few days. She’s the reason I’ve been happier. She can be trusted.”

I don’t respond.

Chloe

Brianna holds my small form in her hands and breathes softly, leaning back on her reclining chair. “How are you feeling? After that fight with your brother?” Her heartbeat is loud enough I can hear it just sitting on her torso.

“Better. I’m glad I came back here. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” I look up at her and smile, dropping it as I hang my head. “I just don’t know why he’s so freaking stubborn, is something I did wrong?” I just met this human, but I feel like I could tell her anything. “I know he’ll come around, I love my brother so much, and I know he’s hurting.”

Brianna gently holds me closer. “You’re doing the right thing.” She hums a soothing tune. “My sister is like this too. She went off to college and became super distant. I was so sad and angry that I didn’t know how to talk to her. But we eventually made up, I told her how I felt, and she admitted how hurt she was, so I find it reassuring that you see the same in your brother, you’re doing good, Chloe.”

I didn’t notice I started crying. “Thank you. Gosh.” The sobs of relief and validation tug at my heartstrings. “You barely know me, why are you so kind to me? And why do they always seem to understand?” What I don’t say is, ‘I knew my brother my whole life, and he was never this kind, at least, not after Mom died.’

“Simple, really. Kindness is easy for me, and grated I don’t struggle nearly as hard as you borrowers do. You fight for survival and have to prioritize that over the nuance of building a relationship. So in that, I understand your brother, you don’t have to be so hard on him. But I do understand how hurt you are by him.” Brianna slowly gets up, “Want to get some sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes please.”

After cleaning herself up for the night, Brianna sets me down on the bed, and rubs the back of her neck. “I don’t know how much you trust me, but I wanted to ask you something. And…” She nervously laughs. “...Don’t freak out on me, just hear me out?”

Oddly enough I don’t feel the need. “Sure, lay it on me!” I extend a cheery tone to help ease her anxiety. “I trust you, you’ve already proven you’re trustworthy a few times now.”

“So, I can control my… stomach. I can change my hormones so my stomach doesn’t digest.” I didn’t expect to hear that, but it intrigued me greatly. “And also, it will be the first snow tonight, and I don’t want you to be cold…” She takes a breath. “May I eat you, Chloe? You’d be safe, I promise.” She’s eager and awaits my response it seems.

I don’t really know how to respond to such a new concept. Surely she’s telling me the truth. If she wanted to hurt me surely she would have done so when I was knocked out earlier this week. She understands my brother’s hurt, and offered to help us through winter. If she wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t have done all this for me. “You know what? Go ahead! Sounds like fun honestly!” I don’t know what came over me, but the idea excited me somehow, surely it must be warm inside a person.

“Really? Are you sure, you don’t have to!”

“Really! I’ve never been eaten before!”

“...”

The room erupts with laughter. Brianna chirps with her joy, and I can’t believe I’m about to be eaten by a human, especially after my brother warned me, but after this week, why wouldn’t I?

Brianna lifts me to face, we’re eye level now. “I’m going to taste you for a bit before I swallow you, if you ever get uncomfortable or scared we can stop, I won’t hurt you.” She reassures me once more. I already trust her, and give her a verbal confirmation. With any further hesitation, Brianna opens her mouth, relieving pearl white teeth, and a big pink tongue. I feel something in my spine as I’m inched closer. It almost looks inviting, a big wet drooly mouth looks inviting. I laugh at the thought, reaching out one hand to feel her tongue. I immediately notice how warm it is, and how soft it feels under my hand. I wiggle off her hand and into her mouth, the warmth was more than enough to sell me on this idea. The soft muscle pulls me in quickly, and Brianna closes her lips around my waist. She hums at my flavor, presumably, pushing me gently against her palate, then the inside of her cheek, then tilts me to my throat.

I don’t have any protest, so I take a small breath in, feeling a bit of vertigo as my head slips into her throat, and she swallows, simultaneously throwing my legs in behind me. She closes her lips around me and swallows again, leaving just my tail out. The snug muscles of her throat pull me downward, toward her stomach, a small part of me comes to reality that I’m about to be put in the same place all food goes, and the only thing keeping me from becoming food is Brianna's word. But I don’t struggle, as much as this doesn’t make sense, it would make even less sense for her to betray me. I feel my tail get slurped up like a noodle with a muffle smack of Brianna’s lips, along with a small gulp.

Dropping into her stomach, I bounce a bit as I hit the bottom of the gastric chamber. “Are you okay, Chloe?” Her voice is basey and all around me. I take a moment to assess my condition.

Warm? Check.

Comfortable? Check.

Safe? Check.

“Fantastic!” I shout back, hoping my voice is loud enough to penetrate her internal flesh. “I’m safe and sound, thank you for keeping your promise!” I sink my body into the walls of her fleshy stomach, hearing the soft gurgles and groans of her digestive system moving about. I also catch on to her subtle heartbeat above me. This, I could get used to.

Jericho

I wanted to chase after her after she stormed back to that- Brianna’s place. Was Chloe right? Was I the enemy? Something didn’t feel right, so I decided to find her, and risk meeting this human she seems to know more about than I do. Unfortunately, I waited too long, and night had fallen. An owl had detected my presence. I refused to end up as an owl chow before I made amends with my sister. I stay under the brush of foliage of the forest floor, passing the river swifting by its thinnest shore, avoiding the open air for long.

The hills keep getting higher as I make the trek up the mountain side. Chloe told me the directions before she stormed off earlier tonight, and for that I’m lucky. I hide into hovels and peek out, the owl seems to have lost me. I see a light on the crest of the hill. Eyeing down a house on the edge of forest, just as she described. As I sneak closer I hear footsteps coming fast. I twist my body to view, seeing the dark form of a huge humanoid running at me, a feminine voice sounding to me, “OWL!”

The screech of the owl and its silhouette blocks out the moon, without thinking I dart toward the human, they reach down and grasp me in both hands. I can hear the fast patter of gravel shoes and the loud slam of the front door. The adrenaline and static take a while to clear from my ears. And just briefly enough to help me recognize I was being spoken to.

My vision clears as I look up to my savior.

“Jericho?”

She knows my name? Then she must be her.

“Brianna?”

She smiles, relieved. “It seems we cleared that up, I’m glad I found you when I did, what are you doing out here at night?” The girl begins stroking my hair with her thumb, I wince at her touch. She’s awfully friendly.

Then the realization hits me. “My sister! I was… coming to apologize to my sister…” I look around the room and dart my eyes. “Where… is she?”

The human continues smiling. “Safe, and warm.” Her stomach growls underneath me, “Listen, you’ll forgive me later, but this is what she wanted. Just don’t struggle too much.”

I don’t even get a moment to protest whatever she’s doing when she shovels me into mouth! I flail around desperately. This wasn’t happening. The wet and sticky saliva coats my body and the human quickly gulps me down her gullet. Sending me straight to her stomach. I feel a heavy feeling in my chest as I’m deposited into her growling stomach. Something touches my shoulder and I scream.

“Woah! It’s okay, it’s just Chloe!”

I stare blankly in disbelief. She was… alive? In here?

“Sorry for panicking you, Jericho.” She embraces me tight, lingering on my name. “But I knew you wouldn’t agree to this willingly.” She pats me on the back. “We’re safe. Brianna won’t digest us, she’ll keep us safe tonight, and all winter. Our struggles are over, Jericho. We can rest.”

I open and close my hands slowly, processing her words. “You… planned all this? This was your idea?” She nods. “And you’re not angry?” She shakes her head. I look her up and down, then at the slimy surrounding around us, and the dim light coming from the walls. “I want to sleep.” The day had taken its toll, and I wanted to rest. At least I can take comfort in seeing my sister alive.

Chloe

I spent the rest of the night with Jericho in Brianna’s stomach. Talking about anything and everything, hoping to relax him. As morning came Jericho confessed to me how sad and scared he’s been, sobbing into my arms as Brianna spits us up. We clean ourselves thoroughly.

Outside a large blanket of snow had buried everything. We were practically snowed in. I take Jericho's hand and look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. For everything this week. I’ve been difficult and hard to love, yet you risked your life multiple times to ensure my safety. You are an amazing brother, and even if I hate you sometimes. You’re not all that bad.”

Jericho does the same, “And I’m sorry, for not believing in you, and not trusting you. You are extremely smart and capable. You have proven to me that I don’t know everything.” He looks up to Brianna, “And thank you, Human, for not hurting my sister or I, and for taking us in. We will make up for the sacrifices you make for us.”

I chuckle at that, “And another thing Bri? Thanks for eating me. I didn’t know I would enjoy it so much, but I have never felt so warm or safe in my life, you are an amazing human that we borrowers-” I nudged my brother, “-Would love to get to know!”

Brianna takes a moment and tears well up in her eyes, “Always happy to help anyone in need, Human, Animal, Plant, Borrower, whatever. My love is unconditional. I’m excited for this winter.” She glanced out the window at the snow and falling flakes. “And if you need anything, I will be happy to provide, it’s the least I can do for two cute borrowers who have been through hell.” She nods solemnly at me.

Jericho embraces me, and gives him one arm back and raises my other for Brianna. The three of us share a long hug together, and despite our many differences, I know it’ll work out for all of us.

[the-void-writes]

Sick!!

Heyyyy 💖 Sorry if this one feels rushed, it’s kind of been sitting in drafts until I finally found a spark of love for Lockhart again lol.

SOLM - Sick Night

Summary: Val works themself sick, Cyrus offers to care for them.

TW for suggestive content

“You worked yourself sick again, didn’t you?”

Val could barely lift their head off the table as they looked up at Cyrus. “It’s fine, I’m just tired.”

“Is that why there are tissues everywhere?”

“It’s cold, Cyrus. We’re staying in the mountains.”

“You’re sick, dear.” He offered his hand. “Please, you can sleep in my room, if you’d like.”

“I just need to—”

They tried to stand, but their knees gave out and they fell to the floor of the library. Cyrus carefully picked them up and carried them through the manor. The eyes of the portraits followed Val as they watched their surroundings pass by. Finally, their head landed on Cyrus’ silk pillow, and they passed out immediately.

The sun was starting to set when they woke up. A cold cup of tea sat on the nightstand. Val tried to sit up, but the fire in their body weighed them to the mattress. Their sinuses were completely clogged, and their head felt as though it would burst.

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the door to Cyrus’ room creaked open. He stepped inside, gliding across the floor to Val’s bedside with a comforting smile.

“How do you feel, love?”

“Like lead,” Val mumbled.

“Doctor Carrol left some more medicine for you. I put it in the washroom, whenever you’re ready for another dose.”

Val licked their lips. “Is that why I taste copper?”

Cyrus chuckled. “It’s not pleasant, I’m sorry.”

“I should be thanking you. I’m a mess to take care of, I know.”

“Caring for you is bliss, my darling. I never dreamed I would have someone to nurse like this.”

Val hid their face. “Thanks, I sound like a senior citizen.”

“You’d make for a lovely elder.” Cyrus smiled sadly. “I hope I’m still around to see that for myself.”

“I hope so, too.”

A loud, gross cough interrupted their special moment. Val’s head hit the pillow again as they sighed, feeling heavy and hot and miserable. They wanted to move, to relieve the ache in their body. Cyrus stepped closer, and Val’s hand instantly met his.

“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked.

Val stared down at the gorgeous detailing on Cyrus’ red sheets. “No, thank you. I don’t want to risk you getting sick.”

“Lucky for us, I have a strong immune system. An advantage to living in the mountains for so long.”

“Lucky you,” Val said. “Perfect health, a gorgeous house— is there anything you don’t have?”

Cyrus smiled. “There is one thing I’m missing. Your lips on mine.”

He leaned down, brushing his light lips against Val’s cheek. Even though they felt gross, Val couldn’t help but kiss him over and over. Their hands ran through his hair as he crawled over them, covering them with his tall frame. Without thinking, they threw their sweater to the floor. The cold air felt wonderful, second only to Cyrus’ lips on their neck.

“Val, my darling, may I spoil you for a moment?”

“Are you sure you want to?”

“Without question.”

Val kissed his jaw. “Thank you, dear.”

“Believe me, the pleasure is mine.”

His hands were careful around their waist as he hooked his fingers around their pants, sliding them delicately off of their legs. He lingered on the warmth of Val’s thighs, tracing up and down in rhythm. They jolted against his touch, wincing slightly as their muscles flared from exhaustion.

“Too much?” Cyrus asked.

“Softer,” Val whispered, “please.”

“Of course.”

True to his word, he was gentle. He kissed the soft rolls of their stomach, the dip of their hip bone, and the inner skin of their wrist. His touch was intoxicating, and Val cursed themself every time they coughed or sniffed and drew Cyrus’ attention away.

“Do you need to stop?” he asked.

“It’s too good,” they mumbled. “Please, keep going.”

“As long as it doesn’t kill you.”

“I’m the picture of health.”

Cyrus laughed against their chest, sending butterflies all through Val’s body. He slipped off the rest of their garments with ease. One pale hand wrapped around their knee and propped it over his shoulder, while the other caressed their chest. Val’s fingers curled around the sheets. Hungry emerald eyes shimmered in the light of the dying candle, drinking in Val’s form.

“Relax, flower. I’ve got you.”

[masterwords]

I’m back!

I was thinking about Derek and Aaron having to put together some kind of toy or project for Jack (you know kids always do it the night before it’s due). I’m just picturing some sweet and sarcastic time together doing something for Jack that should be easier but is probably harder than they thought.

Super excited for May now!

Starting May off with this one! And yeah, it got a LOT sappier than I meant for it to...that happens I suppose.

Summary: Jack needs to build a rocket and he has two dads who can help him out. Lucky kid.

Warnings: mention of Derek's dad's death and financial troubles after

Words: 1.3k

Read below the cut or on AO3!

**

** Blast Off **

“You're doing it wrong,” Derek says from the floor. He's on his second set of one hundred pushups, maybe the third, Hotch has lost count. Up and down up and down.

“The directions said...”

“Read them again.”

He can't. Jack lost them about an hour before when Hotch told him to clean up all of the mess he'd made that didn't have anything to do with the damn rocket so they could focus. He can manage chaos on a grand scale, but in his own home it's just a little too much. The sad truth is, those instructions are probably in the trash can beneath the scraps from dinner.

In other words, long gone. He's not digging through the trash to figure this little thing out.

He doesn't think it should matter. There are not that many pieces. They're all laid out, side by side, just like he would set it up if he was taking apart one of his guns to be cleaned. It looks so simple, and it probably is it's just that he's afraid to commit and make a mistake. They don't have time to go buy another kit, they waited until the last minute. Not because anyone forgot, just because Hotch had been a little extra busy at work. Story of his life.

Derek finishes his push-ups and spends almost a full minute drinking every drop from his water bottle. Hotch envies his dedication to fitness, the way he always manages to get these things in without excuse. Hotch hasn't done push-ups in days even though they entered into this monthly challenge some of the guys at the Academy started together. This month is push-ups, next month is running. He'll make them up, no way he's going to come in last or just give up, but he's definitely not making it easy on himself.

“This part goes here,” Derek says, pointing. “I watched my dad and Sarah make one of these.”

“I made one when I was a kid but not from a kit. My dad almost cut his hand off helping me with mine. He wasn't much of an engineer...” In other words, his rocket had looked pretty cool but had been an epic fail. It blew to bits when it hit the ground.

Derek's mom didn't have the money to buy him a kit when it was his turn. It wasn't that expensive, but it would have over drafted her account. If it had been a week later maybe she could have been able to swing it, pinch a few pennies, but things were just tight. Her job didn't pay much and the hospital and funeral expenses were still weighing her down so he was home sick on rocket day to save face. Being the only kid who showed up empty handed would have killed him and Fran knew it. He already had to be the kid whose dad died, he didn't need that too. Things were hard enough on him.

Derek doesn't bring it up but Hotch can see it on his face, he can see it written in the lines on his forehead. He doesn't dwell on these things but they still sting when confronted with them.

“Do you want to take my place?” Hotch asks without a hint of frustration. He thinks maybe Derek might like a do-over. “I could use a few minutes to get some push-ups in before I'm at the bottom of the pile.”

Derek doesn't need the instructions. He can reconstruct a bomb from scraps, he can see the way the pieces fit together and instinctively knows what each of them does. Hotch knows that even if it's not exactly the way the instructions say to do it, Jack's rocket will probably win.

The only thing Derek can think is that this feels huge. This is a father son project, Jack has been talking about it for weeks. The fact that Hotch isn't home often and Jack was worried he'd have to build it with aunt Jessica had been at the forefront of his mind. Not that he would hate that, he just...it was all Jack wanted. Building a rocket with daddy. It's a whole thing. After they build the rockets his whole class will go to a field and launch them, there are even prizes for the winners. Highest, farthest, best paint job. There are about a million categories, enough that each kid in the class will probably get something for their trouble. But Jack just wants to build it with Hotch. And after launch day, to further the experience, they get to go to the air and space museum. It's not the sort of thing some random guy just gets to jump in on. He knows he isn't just some random guy, but until this moment he wasn't really sure where he fit. Jack likes him, or at least tolerates him, and he's careful not to infringe on Jack's precious time with his dad.

This makes him feel like part of the family in a way he hasn't before.

“You sure?”

He expects Jack to politely refuse. He wouldn't mind it. If he could have done this with his father...

“YEAH! PLEASE DEREK!”

Jack's enthusiasm nearly makes him cry. It's all he can do to hold himself together as he takes a seat beside the kid and starts rearranging the pieces into an order that makes sense to him. No hesitation. If Jack wants him to do it, then he's going to do it and he's going to do it right. He thinks about that stupid Inside Out movie that makes him cry every time Jack wants to watch it and he knows this is a core memory.

Maybe for both of them.

They work all evening, laughing and making a mess while Hotch makes up for lost time on his damn push-ups. His arms feel like jelly, his elbows are creaking, but he's back in the running again. He pops a few Tylenol PM so the ache in his arms doesn't keep him up that night but he feels good otherwise. Could probably do more if he wanted but he didn't want. It's late and all he wants to do is read Jack a chapter from their bedtime story and go to bed.

By the time he comes to the table to check on things, they've got it painted with the wildest set of tiger stripes he's ever seen. It looks fast and mean. And the most shocking part? The table is mostly cleaned up.

“Will it fly?” Hotch asks in awe. Derek and Jack laugh in unison and he can't get over how good that sound is.

“Not only will it fly,” Derek starts, standing and arching his sore back. He hates sitting so long. “It's gonna win.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

Hotch takes Jack to get ready for bed while Derek finishes shutting down the apartment, checking locks, turning off lights. He gives the glue a test, tugs at the fins, pulls the nose off and checks that the parachute is intact. It all looks good. He knows the engine is solid, it's in there, it's going places. Once he's satisfied with the work they put in, he heads off toward Hotch's room to wait for him to finish, but hears his name called from Jack's room.

“Yeah?” he asks, leaning in the doorway. Jack is tucked into his bed, Hotch kneeling on the floor beside him with the book in his hand.

“Would you come with me tomorrow?” Jack asks with a hopeful smile. “Since you helped me build it.”

Derek can't stop the tears this time. They obscure his vision and for a moment he's speechless. Hotch nods and smiles.

“Yeah, buddy. If the boss says I can have the morning off, I'd love to.”

“Can he dad? Please?”

“I'll think about it.” He's posturing. It's a done deal. Derek already knows it.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddddddddddd...”

Hotch smiles in a way that lights his eyes up and he nods. “Of course. But only if he brings me lunch.”

“Deal.”

[artknifeandglue]

as shattered stars shine: DVD commentary (part 1/12)

Home, sick, and desperately need to do something other than write, so I'm going to yell semi-coherently about as shattered stars shine, a story that seized my brain in end-April last year and refused to leave until I wrote the whole damn thing.

Will do it chapter by chapter, but post might be long, so cut.

“I’ll risk my life, I’ll give my life to you. After all, you gave me time, didn’t you? If all my desires could come true, if I could attain them, I want to see you I make my wish upon the stars” … If life would only return to you, if it could reach you, I don’t care what happens to me” -Mephisto by Queen Bee

I describe this fic as a Gift of the Magi meets Faust, which it pretty much is. Many thanks to Queen Bee for an emotionally devastating song. Now on to the writing process and commentary! (Note: I’m not going to put the whole fic here because that’d defeat the purpose of uploading it, and also because I feel really weird about posting the full 60k words here. Instead, I’ve taken quotes from it and put them here.)

Meteor showers, Eggsy knows, aren’t actually as rare as people think. Thirty of them in a year works out to one meteor shower somewhere every five weeks.

Quite literally the first line - this was the very first thing I wrote, and it stayed in all the way until the final draft (with some tiny revisions!). Originally, the second line had a throwaway comment about a primary school teacher having given him this bit of information. Also, this damn line alone kicked off a whole lot of reading about meteor showers. Many thanks to the International Meteor Organisation for their assistance.

Deep brown eyes flicker up towards Eggsy, and for a moment he feels as though they might in their intensity reveal his every secret, every corner of his soul. It should be intimidating, Eggsy knows. It should be frightening. Yet a shiver of excitement starts at the back of his neck and darts down his spine, leaves his hands tingling with something almost like the thrill of his escape, but better. How much richer, Eggsy thinks, how much warmer this feeling is, this business of feeling alive.

Kingsman’s story is that of Eggsy starting a new life as an agent, but his new life doesn’t start the moment he enters Kingsman – it starts when he goes to meet Harry Hart. Also relevant: this particular story’s themes of a second chance at life, at being alive.

“About two weeks and many hopeful glimpses up at the Galahad office window later, Eggsy takes a look in the mirror and accepts that yeah, okay, he might be just a little bit in love with Harry Hart…

Which, you know, writing on the wall and all that. Eggsy’s bi, not stupid.”

He’s a clever one, and he’s got his priorities in order. What else is there to say? They’re in looooove.

“…and yet all Eggsy finds himself needing is that rare fleeting moment in which Harry passes by, a stray comet crossing his path.”

Sticking the shooting-star metaphor (though comets aren’t meteors) in various places because I can. Also, though, Harry is the vehicle through which Eggsy’s hope for a better life comes true.

“Everything else, Eggsy thinks, can wait until after then. Later, he tells himself as he lies awake at night, the curve of Harry’s lips on his mind, the leap of his heart in his chest unaddressed. There will be time later…

Then a grenade goes off in a lecture hall, and then Eggsy finds himself right back at the beginning, out of time and alone.”

As seen in the lyrics, time is a recurring theme in this fic: Eggsy runs out of time to confess, Harry runs out of time to apologise, and then Eggsy runs out of his soul-traded time when he gets shot. The Deal with the Devil comes in precisely because of this – Eggsy isn’t willing to accept that he’s run out of time, and later, neither is Harry.

“Two-thirds into a twenty-kilometre night run, Eggsy glares at the stars sparkling in the night and reminds them you don’t do shit…

Until they do.”

Cosmic coincidence or intentional tempting of Eggsy? A little from Column A, a little from Column B. He’s still holding on to the last vestiges of the idealistic notion of wishing upon a star, and having the stars actually grant one (1) wish would push him a little more in that direction, while also setting him up for greater disappointment and resentment later!

“Above him, as though in answer, the flickering light of the stars winks back, hopeful and glimmering, like a promise from a benevolent universe.”

Personification! There’s an excellent reason why the stars seem almost alive and sentient, at least in this fic.

Bring him back, he demands, the words part spite and part despair. Above him, brilliant and blazing, meteors rocket to their deaths and fizzle out one by one, taking with them the emptiness of his rage. I’ll trade you anything if you bring him back.

So my favourite work is The Picture of Dorian Gray, and the corruption/perversion of beauty is something I personally enjoy exploring. How can we take a bunch of beautiful things (the night sky, a meteor shower, the stars) and attribute to them a sort of tragedy/terror in their beauty? Dunno. I like to think I’ve done it somewhat well over this fic.  

In the armchair where Chester King had sat and handed him a gun, someone sits nursing a glass of scotch. “Hello, Eggsy. Care for a drink?”

Why is Arthur’s office also the Devil’s office? Jokes about Chester King being the literal Devil aside, I think having Eggsy constantly revisit the place where it all started going wrong – dare I say his own personal hell? – is fitting. What better way to convince a man to sell his soul than to bring him back to the beginning of the end and show him you can fix this for a small, small price?

But there is one truth achingly, excruciatingly familiar to him, one thing he knows not by training but by a lifetime of hanging in there by the skin of his teeth: second chances don’t come often, not to people like him. Second chances don’t ever come back, and some of them don’t come at all unless bought for with blood the way Dad did seventeen years ago. Seventeen years of snatching tomorrows from the hands of an uncaring universe, and now a second chance — both his and Harry’s — sits in front of him in that stupid armchair, empty crystal glass in hand, waiting.

A central motivation for Eggsy in this fic is seizing an opportunity when it presents itself. His canon backstory makes it clear that opportunities have been in short supply all his life, and I think he’d be acutely aware of this fact. Coupled with grief and love, it makes him all the more likely to accept Mephistopheles’ deal.

It’s like being dunked into ice water, like being turned inside out and torn apart, scattered in a million pieces across space and time unending.

The stranger throws his empty glass onto the hearth, where it shatters into sparkling fragments upon the logs that shimmer and gleam like stars. The flame hisses, roars and leaps out of the fireplace, licking at Eggsy’s calves like a promise, a premonition, burning—

Star references! But also, flames of hell foreshadowing.

Eggsy jolts awake to find sunrays spilling through the window into a house he has no memory of going home to, sunlight warm against his legs where he must have kicked the covers off in restless sleep. It is morning. He is in his bed, alone.

If the stars at night are a dark and terrifying force in the story, surely morning is a positive one? Except the sun is a star too. Hehe.

…an effort that Roxy lays waste to when she bursts into his office at half past noon and slaps his laptop shut just to tell him about Merlin’s latest phone call. A frazzled lady calling in to the Kingsman main line with only the words Oxfords, not brogues to identify her, begging to speak to literally anybody. A previously unidentified person has just woken up in the mortuary of a hospital and demanded that they call this number, but he won’t say anything about who he is or what’s happened to him, and can someone please come get him?

Roxy doesn’t appear all that much in the fic, chiefly because this is meant to revolve around Hartwin and how we get to a point where they’d both sell their souls for the other person, but I love her and want to write more of her. The phone call line was second to be written (after the first line of the fic) and has stayed exactly as it was in previous drafts.

In the half-hour of pre-takeoff preparations, mind trapped between an English manor he has already left behind and a Kentucky hospital he won’t arrive at for eighteen more hours, he wastes the minutes away mindlessly flicking through several social media apps, their content a passing torrent of information that slips past his consciousness and away into the unknown. Celebrity is pregnant. Jamal’s got a new jacket. Bitcoin. Celebrity is dating other celebrity. Meteor shower peaks tomorrow. Ryan’s found a hundred quid on the pavement. Something about cryptocurrency. Personality test about a horse or a lightbulb. Celebrity affair. Celebrity divorce. AI. Bitcoin, again.

Research I didn’t think I’d need to do but ended up exploring: flight times from place to place, but also social media trends and topics in 2015-2016.

Before Eggsy leaves, he fishes out the worn Kingsman medal from his pocket and presses it into Harry’s palm. It sits like a talisman in his grip, fingers curled loosely around it. On some level, Eggsy thinks, it is. It did save him at least once, so what’s a second time?

Lee’s medal! I like to think it signifies different things to Harry and Eggsy – for Eggsy, it’s his second chance, a symbol of hope; for Harry, it’s the sign of one of his greatest failures, a symbol of guilt. Therein lies the duality of this fic and of Harry and Eggsy’s motivations for selling their souls. (More on Harry’s in the commentary on later chapters.)

That night, he dreams of the rooftop again, of sitting under an ink-black sky full of stars. They flicker and wink at him, parties to a secret between him and the universe.

At the end of the chapter, all is well! Sort of. Not entirely.

[the-knaves-world]

Cater and the quiet day

Cater x reader

Gn as always

Fluff

Been in my drafts forever, 7days, and didn't know how else to finish this one. Please enjoy!

Days were rarely ever quiet around the Heartslabyul dorm. What with Deuce and the others causing chaos and irking Riddle every day. Today, however, Cater got the rare treat of being out of the dorm and with his lovely partner. Sounds like a good day to him, if anyone were to ask. 

Cater may love everyone in his dorm a bit, it definitely was not enough to stay when offered a night out with the one person he truly felt safe with. Cater expected to have a day with his partner out in town in cute cafes or even looking for picturesque sights for beautiful selfies. What he got, however, was his other half pampering him with homemade food and some good old hair brushing. 

“Honey! This is amazing! How did you get the spice level just right?” Cater was thoroughly enjoying the spicy dishes that you made with jamils guidance. “Jamil was willing to help me with spicy recipes because I helped him take care of a sick Kalim who didn’t want to stay in bed.”

Cater choked a bit, after taking a drink of water, he laughs at the mental image of you trying to keep the rowdy light music club member in bed while poor Jamil takes care of everything else. “Did Jamil at least get to take a break while Kalim was sleeping?” You shake your head and smooth some of Caters hair back from his forehead while speaking to him softly.

“Jamil took a 10 minute nap while I sang them both a lullaby. They were both so tired that they couldn’t see straight.” You rest your elbow on the table and raise your banana milkshake to your lips and sip through the straw. “Kalim slept through the rest of the night and Jamil didn’t have as big of eye bags as normal. Suffice it to say that they both got some much needed sleep.”

Cater loved you dearly, even though sweets were something he didn’t like all that much, he still shared food and snakes with you sometimes. No matter how many times you told him that he didn’t need to, sweet things weren’t something he would be forced to eat with you around. “I want a sip of your shake. Can i?” He shot you the cutest puppy dog eyes and you frowned a bit.

“Cate, you don’t need to force yourself to drink something sweet.” Cater looks at you with soft, warm eyes and grins a little. “The banana milkshakes you buy aren’t that sweet, they just taste like bananas and milk. C’mon, please?” When he puts it like that, you really can’t say no, can you?

You tilt the shake toward his mouth and watch as he sips at it while making eye contact. “Told you it wasn’t sweet. You never buy overly sweet things when it comes to shakes.” Cater runs one hand over your forearm that is laying closest to him. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his gentle, teasing touch.

Having finished his food, Cater gets up, gathers his dishes and takes them to the sink and gets to washing them. “Cater, I could have done that.” Cater laughs lightly and shakes his head gently and flashes you a smile. 

“You made all of this, invited me over and have already made my day brighter. The least I can do is wash my own dishes.” Cater pauses and thinks to himself for a moment and then jovially whines “You could give me back hugs and dry them when I’m done scrubbing them.”

Quiet days with Cater were nice, rare and all the sweeter for their rarity. Walking up behind cater and wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek into his back and you mumble against his shirt. “I’m so glad that we have days like these. We won’t have them for much longer, will we?” 

Cater didn’t know what to say to them. This was his last year on campus. Fourth years were always out, they were doing internships under mages and important figures around Twisted Wonderland. “Unless I get held back a few years!” Cater laughs in lieu of not knowing what to do or say about where they were at in their last year together.

“We’ll figure something out. I don’t even know where I'm going for internships.” Cater keeps washing the dishes and handing them over to your dish towel covered hands. The silence is soft and warm in a sense. The evening light filters through the kitchen windows and the sound of crickets chirping is the background music to your water sloshing. 

“Would you….” Cater trails off softly and his voice fades into the summer evening around you. The night keeps closing in on your time with Cater. Time seems to fly around those that you care for. There never seems to be enough time. For now, the time you have with cater and the others will be something you hold dear to your heart.

“Cater, let’s just enjoy the time we have now. I will forever be grateful for the love we share. The greatest gift the universe has given me has been my time here with you.” Your voice is soft enough to carry to his ears without grim hearing your confession from where he is napping in the common room.

Cater is truly in awe with what he sees when he looks over at you. The evening sunset casting your form in that beautiful orange light. The last glow of the day framing your head like a halo. Truly the most beautiful thing he has ever seen on campus, hell, maybe even the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in the entirety of his life. His heart threatens to beat clean out of his chest if he stares at you any longer. 

Looking back down to the last dish in his soapy hands, he whispers, “Would you like to come back to the Queendom of Roses with me?” The words leave him before he can even think of what he was asking of you. Cater heard a light gasp and then felt hands grab at his jacket. 

“Cater?” A quick movement of his hands to set the dish down and another to turn and wrap his arms around you. “I am super aware of how that sounded but please just think about it. You have a few years still. Besides, I still have to deal with family stuff.”

There, in the evening light with the sound of grim snoring and the feeling of your hearts beating against your chests, a very important decision was made. “Oh Cater, of course I will.” 

Suddenly, Carter realized how quiet the ringing in his ears had gotten. The calm was so nice. If everyday with you could be like this, Cater would gladly take it, whatever way he could.

[rhysiana]

Winter Travel Woes #1: Nam Seon-ho/Seo Hwi, My Country: The New Age

For @nubreed73, who asked for “SeonHwi, snowed in at The Secret Shack (tm)” (which developed a little side helping of sickfic)

Seon-ho shouldn’t have come to the shack tonight. For multiple reasons, including the fact every time they met increased the likelihood of being found out, which Seon-ho was usually the one to point out, but most specifically tonight because of the terrible weather.

Hwi found himself listening to the wind howling just outside the walls with increasing exasperation. The supposed urgent issue Seon-ho was still trying to tell him about definitely hadn’t been worth coming out in a storm for. If they were still friends, real friends, he’d tease Seon-ho about being too rich to pay attention to obvious weather indicators, but, well. They weren’t. And he’d been the one to teach Seon-ho most of those signs anyway, so he’d just be insulting himself, in the end.

“I got it,” he told Seon-ho firmly. “I’ll take care of it.”

Seon-ho gave him a hard stare for a second and then nodded once before turning to go. The door was blown out of his hands as soon as he opened it, sending snow swirling into the room.

Hwi leapt forward to help wrestle it closed. “You can’t go out in this!”

Seon-ho leaned back against the wall next to the door, breathing hard, eyes closed. “I have to.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Wait until it blows over.” He started mentally taking stock of the blankets available. This really wouldn’t have been his ideal choice to spend a night like this either, but they were here now, so there was nothing to do but deal with it.

Seon-ho failed to snap back at him. Hwi looked back at him in vague surprise, and only then noticed that the color high on his cheekbones was neither the product of flickering candlelight nor the sudden wind blowing through the door. He was reaching out to check Seon-ho’s temperature with the back of his hand before he could think.

“You are an idiot! How could you walk all the way out here with a fever?”

“It’s nothing,” Seon-ho insisted tiredly, eyes still closed. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’ll be fine. I just need to go home. Before my father notices.”

“Well, he’ll just have to assume you got stuck somewhere else, because the only way you’re going out in that right now is over my dead body.”

Seon-ho cracked his eyes open and gave him a wry look.

“No, that wasn’t a challenge.” Hwi took Seon-ho’s arm and tugged back over to the table. “Sit. I’m going to make some tea, and you’re going to drink it.”

“You don’t have to.”

Hwi turned to glare at him. “I may not be Park Moon-bok, but I know how to take care of a sick person. You’re going to let me take care of you, just this once.”

He pretended not to see the sudden vulnerable look that passed over Seon-ho’s face at that, before he schooled himself back to his usual blankness. Instead, he busied himself making tea, then gathered all the available bedding and moved it closer to the fire. By the time he’d gotten everything arranged to his satisfaction and turned back to the table, Seon-ho’s posture had relaxed out of the rigidity he wore like armor these days and his gaze had gone a little glassy, like he’d lost the ability to hold out against the fever now that he’d acknowledged its existence.

Gently, Hwi guided him over to the blankets and got him settled. He knew his actions, his touch, were all betraying more affection for Seon-ho than he’d allowed himself to show in years, and he hoped Seon-ho wouldn’t remember in the morning. Neither of them could afford it.

Just for tonight, though, safe and cut off from the rest of the world in the middle of this storm, he decided he could let himself feel it all again. Everything Seon-ho was to him, everything they’d gone through together. How much he wished he could protect him.

He lay down on Seon-ho’s other side, where he’d block any drafts coming in from under the door, and fell asleep watching Seon-ho breathe, deep and slow, looking more relaxed than he’d seen him in a long, long time.

[hyuccubus]

Heads Up 7 Up!

Finally responding to the tag from @toribookworm22, who has been a kind presence on Tumblr while I got back into a headspace to share writing with the world. I owe her a thanks 😊 I'll tag @laguettler, @fayewynnskelton, @minutiaewriter, @queenofimaginedworlds, @jamieanovels, and @diamond-creates The snippet below is one I'm proud of, but it is a bit emotionally intense and references things like choosing to die and bigotry, so if you've already had a bad day, save it for a sunnier day. I'm on the other side of some rainy days myself, but I did use them to get some potent things down for the draft. Don't be afraid to ask for context, Pound of Flesh has a pretty lofty concept, though not so far fetched as to not feel like a potential future * * * *

“You really think people like that would ever respect me?” Val’s voice had raised itself from meekness to a tone of metered anger.  “They’d always find a reason to hate me. If I’m not a freak, I’m a pervert, and if I’m not a pervert, I’m a headcase. I will never be enough for them, I will never be what they want, and I’m not gonna think about what I want to do based on their backwards, selfish ideas. It is my body, and it’s my choice, and right now this feels like the best one for me. I’m not going on some debt creditor’s leash for the rest of my life. I’m not hiding who I am to climb the ladder high enough to get a job with the benefits I need. I’m not breaking my back every day in exchange for maybe getting what I really want. I’m not doing any of it. I’m giving this opportunity everything I’ve got. I guess you should just hope they reject me.”

“It is your choice. I’m just really afraid for you. You wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t serious, but Val, you’re backed into a corner here. I get that, and I want to be there for you and support you, and this is support. What they’re doing… it’s just sick. They’re exploiting desperate, poor people for money and fame. You don’t deserve to be used like that.”

“I don’t think I do. I just don’t see what other choice I have.”

“Just… think about what I’m saying, Val. We can figure something out. I believe that. You don’t have to resort to this.”

“Will you still love me if I do?”

Cota paused for a moment. “I’m kinda surprised you think there’s much of anything you could do that would make me stop loving you. Of course I’d love you, Val. You’re my best friend. I’m just going to be upset that you’d think you have to go through so much pain.”

“It already hurts, Val. Every day. Every time I get dressed, or look in the mirror, or think about a friend I don’t get to talk to anymore. Every time I see a story about another kid, half my age, that just… decided being dead was easier than this. Every time someone treats me differently, like I’m a fucking alien. It hurts so much, and I just want all of it to mean something. I want that pain to have a healing moment. Everything else is just a band-aid. Every other way, I get the body, but I have to pay for it the rest of my life. I get the face, but I get let go at my job I busted my ass boymoding at for ten years because of ‘downsizing’. I get the voice, but I’m stuck hoping another loan forgiveness bill passes through a government where half of them would hang me before they shook my hand if they thought no one had a camera when they did it.”

[arijensineink]

What It Means To Win NaNoWriMo + Writing Burnout - Desk Check #2 (221204)

The good news: I won NaNoWriMo at 50.5k words!

The not as good news: I’ve got a mild case of writing burnout.

Pushing myself through November was well worth it. I worked on several different projects, enjoyed writing sprints, and accomplished my primary goal: completing 10 blog post drafts for the inaugural series of Fighting For Writing!

The Importance of Resting Your Writing Muscle After NaNoWriMo

The concept of Ikigai has been on my mind recently. I’ve known mine was writing for some time, but never had the confidence to act on it until now.

Ikigai is a Japanese word and concept that to follow your life’s greatest passion.

As I’ve spent more and more time with my Ikigai, I’ve come to learn a lot about me and my writing practice. One thing I’d never considered is that you can still get burnt out doing what you love.

So now that NaNoWriMo is complete, I’m taking a few days to fill the well.

How I’m Fighting For Writing This Week

I’m honestly, truly, really excited for this first blog series.

I wrote these articles with beginner to intermediate level writers in mind. Writers who have established their love for writing, but are struggling to develop a life-integrated writing practice.

I see a lot of complaints on Tumblr, Medium, and the bloggosphere about writing tips fatigue. Writers are completely sick of arbitrary writing advice. We are looking for real ideas they can use as springboards to develop their practice.

While writing this series, I kept this at the front of my mind.

Here’s a sampling of what I’m so looking forward to covering in these posts:

Developing a writing practice vs hobby

How to ditch “inspiration” and create a muse formula

How to write consistently, rather than every day

Ideas on dealing with family who refuse to support your writing

Stranger Tales

Not much progress on my fiction this week, but plenty of brainstorming and musing. To remedy my burnout, I plan to write a few casual blog posts, work on my collaboration project, and hopefully play with some flash fiction.

Soon I need to get refocused on my main WIP, The Wolfena. That will be easier once I’ve got the FFW series edited and ready to post.

I Write Hard So My Cat Can Have A Better Life

Despite the burnout, I still want to write. Ideas are flowing and I’m trying not to give in to that fear that there will never be enough time to write everything I want to write. I just need to take it easy for a couple of days.

The idea of syncing my workflow with the moon’s phases recently came back into my life. There is much we can gain from flowing with our own rhythms, and nature’s.

Slow living has recently made me question the value of speed.

Is faster always better?

Is winning always necessary?

NaNoWriMo had me reframe my view of winning many years ago. I didn’t win NaNoWriMo because I wrote 50k. I won because I wrote at all, made new friends, and accomplished a major goal.

You can accomplish so much when you start defining yourself and following your Ikigai.

Choices of the Week

Food + Drinks

Walnuts + dried cranberries, Rooibos tea, boba.

Songs + Performances

“Wild Flower” by RM

“Illusion” + “Utopia” by Ateez

“HALA HALA” performance by Ateez

“10,000 Hours” acapella by Jungkook

Reading

Mostly slice of life, food for thought, and blogging Medium articles this week. My TBR is piling up!

Muses

The season changing from fall to winter

San from Ateez (this man’s facial structure is of the gods)

Wood-stove fires + old world living

•°. *࿐

To read this story on my blog, click here.

If you’re not signed up for Common Ink, here’s the linky-link.

Thanks for joining me in this desk check. Comments, claps, and follows are deeply appreciated. Happy writing!

Borahae, much love, be well!

-Ari

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #94

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

Read the rest of Passable. here on Tumblr! This is the last part of episode one, so you'll want to be caught up to understand what's going on.

It was all very scientific, very controlled. Noah, the busboy, was blindfolded and tied to a wood chair naked from the waist down, right in the middle of the living room. Brayden was similarly nude, though he wore a very long shirt. That way, you - the studio audience - couldn’t see anything.

“Are we ready?” Brayden asked Alice.

“Yes,” she replied, “Everything is in position. I have the coin to flip, my notebook full of survey questions, and a pen to fill them in.”

Brayden gave her a thumbs-up. “Ready to part the red sea, Noah?”

“Y-yes. Yes!” The busboy replied, clearly eager to begin the research.

“Hold on,” Alice whispered. “You’re on your period?”

“Yeah,” Brayden replied. “Why do you think I’m so horny?”

Alice nodded. “Okay, I’ll need to add that to the procedure notes.”

She flipped a coin and showed it to Brayden. Tails. He gave a salute and proceeded to approach the test subject. Alice clicked her pen and watched intently.

~

Lily and Hazel walked through the hallway of the apartment building. Both laughed at whatever it was that one of them had said, but Lily had a lump in her throat. She was moments away from her first time with a cis woman.

“Anyway,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I’m not sure if my roommates are here or not, but I’m sure we can get the bedroom to ourselves.” She pulled out the key and shakily inserted it into the lock, missing several times. Hazel gently helped her push it in.

“Hey,” she purred. “No need to be nervous. I won’t bite… unless you want me to.”

Lily released an awkward high-pitched squeal in response, nodded incoherently, and unlocked the door. It opened to reveal a disarming display: Brayden riding the loudly moaning busboy as Alice took notes on the whole thing.

“And how would you describe the sensation you’re feeling right now?” She asked, scribbling something on the page.

“Uh… uhaaahhhh…” The busboy replied.

“Come on, use your words!”

“What is going on here?” Hazel asked, seemingly more aroused than disgusted.

“Oh, uh… just ignore them.” Lily took Hazel’s hand and tried to lead her to the bedroom. “They’re experimenting.”

“Ha. I know all about that,” she said, refusing to take her eyes off the performance.

Lily let go of Hazel’s hand. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know… college dorms, sharing a room with other girls… we got curious. Who didn’t? Don’t worry though, nowadays I am one-hundred percent straight.”

“You’re… what?”

“I’m straight. Only into men now. It was a phase, that’s all. What’s the big deal?”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “If you’re only into men, why did you agree to go on a date with me?”

“Wait…” Hazel finally took her eyes away from the center of the living room and looked Lily up and down. “Are you… not a femboy?”

Lily wasn’t sure how to react to that question, so showed every emotion on her face all at once in a statue-like paralyzed expression.

The door opened and in walked Sarah and Peter. Sarah was mortified by what she saw, and Peter was too.

“What…” Peter stuttered. “What kind of sick pervert are you?!?”

The busboy moaned.

Sarah’s eyes went wide. “No, no, no, you don’t understand! I have nothing to do with this!”

“Ha!” Alice laughed performatively. “This was practically your idea, Sarah.”

“Thanks, Alice, thanks. Thanks a lot!”

“I don’t think I should be here…” Peter said, doing a sign of the cross as he backed away, panicking.

“I don’t either!” Hazel said, moving towards the door. She hid behind Peter, bracing herself against his body. “That horrible mannish woman tricked me into coming here!”

“Hey!” Lily yelled, incensed.

“Will you accompany me home?” Hazel asked Peter, appealing to his masculinity. “I don’t feel safe.”

“Sure,” he said, glaring at Sarah. The two walked away.

“That’s a cute nose ring,” Hazel said, as Sarah slammed the door behind her.

Sarah frowned at Lily. “Your reverse-trap stole my boyfriend.”

“Come on…” Lily said, thousand-yard-staring toward the sex act in the middle of the room. “He wasn’t really your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Alice added. “You didn’t even have sex.”

“We kissed!” Sarah sighed and shook her head. “He was Catholic anyway.”

Lily, Sarah, and Alice silently watched as Brayden continued to ride the busboy. Lily bit her lip and looked at the others.

“Do we have any more of that coffee?”