#man has it really been five months since i last posted a fic. what the hell

[pyrriax]

hi utopia :] hrrmm what can i ask you. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written

hi scooter!! thats a tough question, ooo.....

in terms of true fanfic, i'd have to say thats asomatous . that fic absolutely reconstructed how i go about writing, since it really just turned out Right.

but, if i bend it a little to include some of my more. original-but-still-inherently-fannish works, then i mean. i have to point to where the dust settles (which i swear im working on its not abandoned ive just been plagued by terralith)

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

[finitepeace]

november: imi reads tony fics

a bunch of tony x steve, some tony x stephen, and a few tony x bruce. favorites are marked with ✌

STONY

Of things lost in time by erde (orphan_account) | Words:16,082 | The Time Stone beckons Steve with the promise of home. He ends up in Clint's farm, reliving the same day again and again

✌ Drawn to You by jellybeanforest | Words:15,988 | In a world where what one writes on one’s own skin appears on their soulmate’s body in exactly the same place until it’s washed off or fades, no one has ever responded to Twenty-five years later, Tony Stark is born with a single phrase on his left forearm written in messy old-fashioned script. And as he grows up, the words never change:

Safe Haven by gottalovev, zappedbysnow | words: 20,686 | It's been three months since the Battle of New York. Four since Steve woke up in the future. Everything is still too fast, too bright, too glib. And then, as if it wasn't enough, Steve is dragged through a portal into an alternate universe. Other Him is happy, though, and that feels like hope.

✌ to find a secret (behind the ruins) by dapperyklutz | Words:19,555 | As is the case in Tony’s life, it starts with an accident.“This… is not the coffee pot,” he says dumbly. “Astute observation as always, sir,” JARVIS replies dryly, though there’s no mistaking the hint of astonishment in his voice. Tony blinks once more before he gapes at the hammer in his hand. Specifically, he’s holding Thor’s hammer. He has Mjölnir in his hand. Like, what even.

✌ You Can Never Get Enough (Enough Of This Stuff) by Carsonian | Words:3,554 | (A.K.A. Steve gets drunk off Asgardian liquor and broadcasts his feelings towards Tony in the most ridiculous manner. This is incredibly confusing for Tony.)

No Return, No Return by Carsonian | Words:18,231 | In many ways, Tony Stark has spent his whole life waiting to meet something real enough to test himself against. He hadn't planned on it being Steve Rogers. (A re-imagining of Steve and Tony pre-/post-Avengers (2012) with a spotlight on their relationship.)

✌ Since We've Been Together by Carsonian | Words:1,788 | "Marry me." On his life, he couldn't tell how the words came out. Whether they were loving or demanding or whispered. He only knew that once they left his lips, the following breath came as easy as his first one right after receiving the serum. (Steve proposes to Tony, right after a battle.)

The Five Stages of a Time Loop by AirlocksandAviaries | Words:40,517 | Tony Stark looks Thanos in the eye. He raises his gauntlet in defiance and states his iconic phrase. He snaps, expecting death. But death doesn't come. Instead, he's back in his basement, completed time travel model in front of him. He builds the time machine. He snaps again. Again, and again, and again. Tony can't for the life of him seem to change the outcome of this story. What does change, though, is his feelings around it.

ironstrange

Beg by lucifersfavoritechild | Words:2,310 | Tony smiled. “Knew you’d heard of me.” He took a long draw of his drink. “So what do you think? Want to be my something new for the night?” “If you think you can keep up with me.” “Cocky. I like that in a man.” “Really? The version I heard is that you like it in you.” Tony arched a brow. “Planning to join that list?” Stephen gave him a long, considering look before sliding a hand over Tony’s free one. “Mister Stark . . . you’re going to beg me to join it."

✌ One Time No One Thought Tony and Stephen's Marriage Would Work and Five Times They Were Wrong by infiniteeight | Words:10,956 | An alliance requires that Tony and Stephen get married. No one really thinks it will last. They're wrong.(aka an arranged marriage plot where instead of marriage forcing them to resolve their differences, everything works out bizarrely well right from the start)

Embers by surveycorpsjean | Words:8,274 | They’re horribly different in all the best ways.

reach out by crownsandbirds (Restricted) | Words:4,048 | "Tony's eyes focus first on the long fingers holding the glass of champagne, and then up to the blue eyes eyeing him with intent. He hopes the sharp breath of want he has just taken wasn’t too noticeable." Tony and Stephen meet, lose each other and then find each other again.

sciencebros

Mutually Assured Protection by Ophiuchus_Trails | Words:1,579 | In which the Hulk protects Tony, and he returns the favour. Because that's what friends do.

Tin Man by some1_around | words:2,120 | People tend to think that the only emotion Hulk can feel is anger. They're pretty spectacularly wrong.Or, five unpleasant emotions Hulk has felt and how Tony helped him through them, and one time Hulk returned the favor for Tony.

Common Sense by thebratqueen | Words:1,814 | “If he throws one more of those I’m going to have to have lunch with the mayor. I can’t express how much I’d rather be fighting the Doombots.”

[genesisarclite]

Here's a list of all the fics I've updated within the past few months. None require an AO3 account to view! Click the title to go directly to the first chapter of each story.

Constants and Variables

Fandom: Prey (2017)

As TranStar begins its next round of Neuromod testing, one which will change the future of mankind, the next round of new hires is brought to Talos I. Aislinn Kelly is one such new hire, but at the same time Morgan Yu is beginning to become deeply involved with testing, she just so happens to be regularly assigned to his office. He, the Vice President and head of the Science Division in one of the mightiest companies in the world, and she, a mere maintenance worker, will end up connecting under the absolute worst circumstances. After all, TranStar is up to something in the bowels of the station, and Morgan knows about it. All of it.

He just... keeps forgetting. Or remembering. Or both. And she is a constant.

Prism

Fandom: Deus Ex (Mankind Divided era)

Delara Auzenne is the mole inside the Prague branch of Task Force 29. Sent as Adam Jensen's ward, she finds herself constantly stonewalled by his hostility and is forced to back off to try another tactic. But when her attempt to dig into Jim Miller also goes too slowly for her liking, she instead, reluctantly, turns her attention to Duncan MacReady.

After all, she's the only way information gets out of TF29 when Miller doesn't talk.

It really was just a job.

Final Fantasy Suscitatio XIII

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII (Lightning Returns era)

The final thirteen days have come, and Lightning's journey starts off simply: go to Nova Chrysalia, save as many as she can, run out the clock. But everything turns upside down when she faces her eternal rival one last time... and the scheming Lumina convinces her to bring him along. In the unbelievable situation of having the man who destroyed the world as an ally, Caius's very presence carries with it both immense power and the constant presence of chaos, and he is still forever chained by the possessive power of Yeul as she remains trapped in the temple. What started off as an uncomplicated journey has become an impossible situation, as Lightning's attempts to save as many as possible is complicated by her once-rival living once more.

The world is dying. Bhunivelze is waiting. And yet, even here, at the end of everything, there are secrets yet left to be found...

---

I'm finally at a place where I have the time and (usually) energy to write again, so I'd love any and all feedback! Comments genuinely do give me the motivation to continue (adulting doesn't give me a lot of free time, y'see), so if you'd like to see a story continue, feedback is precious. It can be incoherent screaming/rambling for all I care - all that matters is knowing my work is being enjoyed!

And yes, ALL of these are resurrected fic in some way. "Prism" and "Constants and Variables" were both first posted over five years ago, while "Suscitatio" is a rewrite of a fic I finished many years ago on another site. This rewrite is basically a new fic, since I'm taking out and adding stuff, swapping scenes, etc. - it's been a LOT of effort, but I think it'll be worth it.

So... yeah. Enjoy.

[angelst4re]

the idea for this fic came from the lovely @mikqls0n!! i'm sorry it took so long to write but i hope you like it <33

Happy Birthday- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: basically just birthday sex with some plot :) (and the best friend's brother trope...) (and i unintentionally wrote for counterfeit!jamie!)

warnings: NSFW!! contains smut!! don't read if this makes you uncomfortable my loves <3

notes: look who's back... again!! i really need to make a posting schedule or something... but that's not the point because the other day i hit 800 followers?!?!?!?!!! that's crazy i can't believe it!! i love you all so much!!! <33

You had been spending the week with some of your friends for Jamie’s birthday. Sam had decided to surprise him with a trip to one of his favourite places for his birthday, and as you and Sam had been best friends for years, he let you get involved with the planning too. Tristan, Jimmy and Roland were coming along too, two of them bringing their girlfriends as well. You were very happy about the whole situation, especially as you were in control of booking hotel rooms. 

“So there’s going to be 8 of us and I can only get five rooms?” You frown, spinning your laptop so that Sam could see. “Should I look for another place, or-”

“No, the five rooms should be okay!” Sam explained, “Jamie, you and I can have our own rooms, then Tristan and Jimmy can share with their girlfriends- fuck then what about Roland?”

“It’s okay, I’ll look for another hotel. I’m sure they’ll be one.” You chuckle, searching on google for more hotels in that area. 

“But this is the one we’ve always stayed at, I’m sure we’ll work something out. What are the beds like?”

“They’re all double beds. And I can’t imagine you and Roland sharing a bed!” You laugh, leaving Sam shaking his head beside you. 

“You’d be surprised, y’know. What happens on tour stays on tour.” 

“So should I book the five rooms?” You ask, desperately trying to get the image of whatever Sam was referring to out of your head. 

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll give you my card to pay-”

“No, it’s okay, I’ve got it. I haven’t managed to get Jamie a birthday present yet so he can think of this as my gift.” You smirk, thinking about what you’re actually giving him for his birthday. 

You have known Sam and Jamie for around 6 years now, and in that time you had witnessed Jamie go in and out of different relationships, he barely ever stayed single for long (but no man who looks that good would, right?). You’ve tried and tried to repress your feelings for him over the years, but what was once a small crush on your best friend’s brother had led to a 6 year long friendzone. 

However, in the last few months you have realised Jamie had been acting a little different around you. He had broken up with his ex last year, and has remained single ever since. Yet he would give you mixed signals, or so you thought. He had begun teasing you a lot more, you would catch him looking at you from across the room, and you were pretty certain he had flirted with you a few times this week. 

Naturally, you decided to go with what your heart was telling you, that he liked you too. Even just a little, and so you had planned out his birthday present weeks ahead of the 22nd of November. You visited various lingerie stores, both online and in store, you had also picked up various supplies from a few sex toy stores, wanting to give this man the best birthday present he could ever think of. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was the final night of the trip, which also happened to be Jamie’s birthday, and you were out at a restaurant for dinner. Everyone was finishing their drinks, and the bill had just been handed to Jimmy who had offered to pay for the night’s meal. You were glad to have sat next to Sam at the table, opposite Jamie, as you moved your foot slightly, meeting Jamie’s as the others were having a conversation about something that wasn’t of interest to the two of you. 

“I haven’t forgotten about your birthday gift, just so you.” You say, quietly enough so the others wouldn’t divert their attention to you. 

“I didn’t think you would.” Jamie smiled, a smug look on his face as his eyes met yours. 

Before you could say anymore, Tristan yawned, announcing that he would be heading back to the hotel soon as it was already quite late, and everyone else agreed. 

You all went back to your rooms, Jimmy and his girlfriend, Tristan and his girlfriend, Sam and Roland all shared rooms with each other, leaving you and Jamie to have your own rooms, which you were so grateful for, otherwise tonight's plans would’ve been almost impossible. 

As soon as you got back to your room, you had a shower, changed into the lingerie set you had chosen specifically for tonight (mostly consisting of black lace), and covered it up with the matching black silk robe, topping it all off with your favourite perfume. 

When you were ready, you picked up your phone, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you were filled with a sudden anxiety. What if he doesn't like you the way you like him? What if he’s already met someone else? What if-

All your doubts washed away as your phone lit up with a notification from him. 

Still waiting on that birthday gift, sweetheart x

Suddenly, instead of fear, you felt excitement flowing through your veins. You were truly going to find out the truth tonight, about the way he felt and how he thought of you. 

You quickly typed out your reply, which read:

I’ll be there in a minute x

And with that, you left your room, and made your way to his. 

*knock, knock, knock*

You patiently waited for Jamie to open the door, and when he did you were overcome with a sudden confidence. 

“Happy birthday, love.” You smiled, looking up at him through your lashes, “can I come in?”

Jamie stepped to the side to let you in. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black joggers, revealing his bare chest, decorated with various tattoos, which made your tummy flood with butterflies. God, you had never felt so turned on. 

“Do I get to open my gift?” He asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, his arms placed behind him for support, which only made his muscles more prominent. 

“If you would like to…” You teased, stepping closer to him. 

He leaned forwards, pulling at the tie of your robe before you shrugged it off your body. 

You wasted no time, straddling him so your knees were either side of his hips. You leaned down and he caught your lips with his, in a gentle yet needy kiss. You adjusted yourself on his lap, grinding your core down against his growing bulge, you could immediately tell he wasn’t wearing any boxers beneath his joggers. 

“You filthy little thing,” he whispered against your lips as you pulled back for air, his hand on your waist moved closer and closer to your clothed cunt, “all I’ve done is kiss you and you’re already so wet.” 

“Jamie…” 

“Shh, I know.” His hands were placed back on your hips as he helped you up, “show me, sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” 

You pretty much fell to your knees as he stood up, allowing you to slide what was left of his clothes down his body, revealing the v-line you had drooled over for years. Finally, you were doing what you should have done years ago. 

His cock was much bigger than anything you had taken before, your mouth was almost watering at the size as you wrapped your hand around him, smearing the bead of precum across his tip before you began pumping the length of his cock. 

“Mmm, that’s it, good girl.” His voice dropped several octaves due to the lust that had taken over his body. His hand stroked through your hair, praising you as you placed gentle kisses on the tip of his dick, causing him to let out a groan and throw his head back. 

Happy with his reaction, you wanted to give him more, you wanted him to feel better than ever before. You began with just taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as you made eye contact with him. You then tried taking more of him, however you found this quite difficult and your jaw began to ache. But he stroked your cheek, telling you how well you were doing, how pretty you look with his cock in his mouth, and you decided to try again. You managed to take more and more of him down your throat with each attempt, and his hand, now tangled in your hair, held your face in place as he gently moved his hips in time with the bobbing of your head. 

“Darling,” Jamie gasped, breathless as his mind was clouded by the pleasure, “touch yourself… between your thighs, I want you to feel good too.” He ordered, and you obeyed, one hand coming down to give your aching cunt the attention it was begging for, whilst the other remained on Jamie’s thigh. 

You traced your fingers over your clit as your mouth continued to take Jamie’s cock. Your eyes flickered up to look at him and the sight alone could’ve made you cum. His eyes were shut, his head thrown back, his hand running through his hair. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to… finish too quickly…” He said, “get on the bed.” 

You push yourself away, his cock slipping from your mouth with a ‘pop’, the corners of your mouth covered in your own drool. You quickly wiped your mouth as you stood up, and he took you by the waist, his lips crashing into yours as he spun you around, pushing you down onto the bed. 

‘Shit’, you thought, you’d forgotten to bring the bag of toys you had bought for this moment.

However, as Jamie takes your wrists and pins them above your head, you realise there was really no need for the handcuffs you bought. 

“Keep them there for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” He asks as he removes his hand, and they begin to roam your body. “I asked you a question, love.” 

“Yes…” You gasped, his fingers teasing your nipples through the lace bra you wore. 

Jamie smiled, his lips coming back to yours, wanting to feel as close to you as possible and his hands moved once more, this time they had gone lower… and lower… until he had taken off your panties, throwing them to the side before his fingers grazed your clit. 

“You’ve always been so needy for me, haven’t you, love?” He broke the kiss to whisper as his finger pressed into you, and your breathing became a lot heavier, “I’ve watched you try to hide it over the years, it was quite cute that you thought I wouldn’t have noticed.” 

You tried to focus on his words, but they were only adding to the pleasure he gave you from his fingers as a second joined the first. You quickly moved your left arm, your hand grasping on to his shoulder, needing to ground yourself. 

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your arms there, darling?” He questioned, stopping his movements, his fingers drilled inside you. “I would punish you for that, but we don’t have all night, sweetheart.” 

He moved, readjusting his position above you so he was kneeling between your thighs. He took you by your hips, lifting your lower body up so your cunt was at the same level as his cock. 

You couldn’t help but let out a moan as you felt his cock rub against your folds, you tried to move your hips in hopes that he’d slip inside, but he held you in place once more. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” he cooed, “be patient, I know your needy cunt is aching for me, but you’ll have to wait, darling.” 

Your eyes fell shut as you nodded your head, your hands still above your head as his hands had a hold of your hips. 

When his cock finally split you apart, burying deep inside of you, a loud, pornographic moan slipped from your lips, as your walls tightened around him. 

As he began to fuck you, his hips moving at a pace that made your head begin to spin, your mind clouded with pleasure as his fingers found your clit, playing lazily with the sensitive nub, there was a knock at his door. 

You panicked, your eyes shooting open and looking at Jamie with an expression that read ‘what do we do?!’ However, Jamie seemed to have an idea. He gave you a teasing look before placing a finger over his lips, motioning for you to be quiet, all whilst he kept the same pace of his thrusts. 

“Jamie? Are you still awake?” It was Roland? 

“Yeah,” Jamie answered, continuing to pound into you, his fingers still on your clit, “what’s up?” 

You screwed your eyes shut once again, you felt the pleasure begin to build up as a knot formed in your belly. You were getting close, so so close. Jamie seemed to notice this as he pressed his big hand over your mouth, he looked down at you and whispered ‘don’t. make. a. sound.’ 

You nodded your head, tears beginning to form in your eyes from all the pleasure. It was almost too much. 

“My chargers broke, I went to ask y/n if I could borrow one but I didn't get an answer. And I think everyone else is asleep.”

“Ah, sorry mate, I'm using mine at the moment.” He said, as if this situation was the most normal thing in the world.

Your cunt began to pulse as you were getting closer to edge, ready to let go at any moment, but Jamie whispered once more, ‘hold it.’

“Shit, okay.” Roland replied, “I guess I’ll have to go out and buy a new one… do you need anything from the shop?” 

“Maybe some cigarettes, if they have them…” Jamie's pace began to slow down, he was clearly getting close too. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next morning…

Everyone was already having breakfast when you and Jamie finally woke up. You had fallen asleep in his room after another two rounds, the second was interrupted by Roland again, bringing Jamie the cigarettes he had requested. 

You left the room first, not wanting it to seem like you had both spent the night together, but it was obvious enough, as Jimmy’s girlfriend giggled, asking you why you were wearing Jamie’s t-shirt. 

“There he is!” Sam exclaimed when Jamie finally arrived, “how does it feel to be another year older?”

“Feels great,” Jamie smiled, sitting down opposite you again, “definitely a birthday to remember.”

“Oh it sounded like it,” Jimmy chuckled, “we all heard you, mate… who was the lucky girl?”

You suddenly froze, feeling your heart almost stop as your cheeks reddened. 

“What?” Jamie scoffed, trying to play it off. 

“Come on, man, we all heard it. ‘Oh, Jamie! Don’t stop! I love your cock!’” 

Jamie didn’t know what to say, he just laughed it off, telling them how he had met someone when he went out for a smoke, but his friends all knew that was a lie. They knew exactly who was in his room last night.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for September 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

There were so many links this month that I had to group fics by the same writer together so if you don't see the writer listed, scroll up to find the writer.

Happy reading!

＊ bet on it by @nouies [E, 2k, Louis/OMC]

“We should make a bet,” Louis says out loud, waiting for Dante to look up from his tablet and see Louis’ pouty lips.

“Not a fucking chance.”

or…a fic inspired by Louis at the barricade during AFHF.

＊ Harmony [E, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state.

Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

＊ like a dream but i wasn't asleep by @alwaysxlarrie [G, 2k, Louis/Harry]

It's cold outside and Harry just wants to get into his hotel room and go to bed. It should be a simple task, but it’s made more challenging by his complicated relationship with gravity, a booking mixup, and a really hot guy.

Receptionist Amy is the only victim here.

＊ Calmer Waters by zmmf / @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger [M, 9k+, wip, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn hasn’t been camping in years. Twelve years, to be exact. He’s had his reasons for avoiding the lakeside resort his family used to visit every summer, but with some perspective and his sassy companion of a dog, giving it a go again and facing all that comes with it can’t be all bad…

This has been Liam’s happy place for years; since the very first visit it felt different than all of the other lake vacations his family had bounced around to. Now, having quietly accepted his recent divorce, he wonders if this place will feel the same…

But the last thing either of them expected was to see the other here.

＊ Save Me (from myself) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter [E, 159k, Harry/Louis]

The problem with being friends with Liam Payne was that he had a lot of friends... and forced them to be around each other. When they finished high school, both Louis and Harry were equally relieved that they wouldn't have to tolerate each other constantly or whatever it was that they did.

For five years, it worked out perfectly. They'd only had to see each other a handful of times.

Unfortunately, Liam had to go and get engaged, ask them to both be groomsmen, and then go full groomzilla on their arses. With just twelve weeks to plan the 'perfect' destination wedding and throw every ridiculous pre-wedding celebration Liam and his fiancée stumble across, it was safe to say they were firmly back in each other's lives.

And no one could have predicted that was exactly what they needed.

＊ Tongue Tied by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis’ new bestie placed a hand on his shoulder; he turned with a sway and looked into his blue eyes. ”What do you wish?” The world spun for a moment, and Louis shrugged. It was easy. The only thing he wanted. “I wish that I could tell Harry that I love him, instead of getting all tongue tied and chickening out.” The Irishman winked. “You never know, your wish may just come true.” “From your lips to God’s ears, mate.” He gave the man a hug. “I gotta go before my Uber leaves me.” He stumbled to the door, and that was the last thing he remembered from the night.

＊ I ain't ever fell from a love this tall by @beardyboyzx [G, 733 words, Zayn/Liam]

When he looks at the words, after a few seconds, Zayn feels this sort of relief feather-thrum inside of him — a brief excitement grasping him by the neck, gripping hard, as Zayn’s fingers run over the things he’s just written, admiring how they hold the true nature of his yearnings. And this weird ancestral knowledge Zayn’s got ever since he’s met Liam that first time — before One Direction, before X-Factor, when they were just fourteen and chatting awkwardly waiting for a Happy Meal. The stupid knowledge that this is it for him. That Liam is it.

＊ It's a rush inside I can't control [G, 733 words, Louis]

Wind is hitting him in the face as Louis runs, freely and carelessly, through the woods. There’s no one chasing him for once, and he’s got all the time in the world to enjoy how the soil feels under his feet.

＊ you are the magic in me [NR, 2k, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn is eight when he meets the Prince for the first time. His dad is being knighted — the King has seen the way he fought to defend his village from the enemies of the Kingdom and has decided to gift him a piece of land and a title.

＊ so pretend (pretend)  [NR, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis has thought about it as soon as he found out Styles was back in the Country — ever since he made sure Styles was still in England, really.

Or: the White Collar/Catch me if you can AU nobody asked for.

＊ Because I Found You by @neondiamond [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis stumbles upon a poem Harry wrote about him. A follow-up to Inner Crisis.

＊ Run To You [G, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry injures himself while out on a morning run. Louis comes to his rescue.

＊ A Sense of Stability [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry and Louis have a very mundane and domestic routine on mornings they get to spend together. Harry loves it.

＊ Family Bonding [G, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Louis forges a bond with his new daughter, June, over missing loved ones. Part 2 of June

＊ Little Moments [G, 429 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis’ birthday is a quiet affair this year, but it’s for good reason.

＊ You Are A Song by @lululawrence [NR, 3k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw]

To Louis, Nick felt like poetry in motion. He was a bit of chaos surrounding Louis’ otherwise monotonous days, and Louis was quickly becoming addicted.

＊ Did You Know I Fit In A Dryer?  [NR, 4k, Louis/Jordan North]

“Oi, mate!”

There was some knocking and after the voice coming from right behind him when he had clearly just seen an empty room, Jordan didn’t think he could be faulted for jumping and screaming a bit.

“Mate, can you help me open the door?”

＊ Were You There On That Christmas Night? [NR, 2k, Harry/Louis]

“Thank god you’re here,” Harry said, rushing up to Louis as he tried to have his students join the cacophony being produced by the other year twos that were already in the gymnasium.

“What’s happened now?” Louis asked, quite worried.

Or the one where Harry has some fears regarding the animals present in the school's nativity play.

＊ No Constraints [NR, 863 words, Louis/Greg James]

Louis is really not understanding this particular section of his Vector Calculus course, and his tutor doesn't seem to get what Louis is having a hard time with.

Until he does.

＊ Disenchanted (series) by @hellolovers13 [M, 25k, Harry/Louis]

Witch Harry just trying to live his life. Then there's Louis.

The Potion (Part 1)

If Harry were a calm and collected person, he would simply take the scroll back now and leave. Sadly, his mama had blessed him with lots of wonderful things, his soft curls, his biting green eyes, his magic affinity, but he had not inherited any of her patience.

So instead, he got right up in Hedgehog’s face, thrilling at the fact he had to bend down just the tiniest bit to look into his eyes.

Such a shame, too. This guy had pretty blue eyes and if he wasn't drenched in the stench of The Hunters™, he might've even made a decent fuck, but that was neither here nor there now.

or Harry is a witch minding his own business, Louis is a nuisance.

The Escape (Part 2)

Harry is still minding his own business, Louis is still annoying. Well, fine. Maybe he is the tiniest bit helpful, too.

The Healer (Part 3)

Harry is trying to-

Louis is-

He's going to make it. Harry will make sure of that.

The Curse (Part 4)

Time for Harry to confront his past. Or not?

The Heart (Part 5)

True love isn't something that was ever going to be in the cards for Harry. It finds him anyway.

＊ 1957: here to take my medicine by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Styles - and Louis - are esteemed members of a whole class, an entire community—fuck, it’s being called a generation—who are hellbent on hearing the sound of their own voices reciting their own words.

But this?

The heavenly nothingness that comes when Louis, with all the precision of a surgeon wielding his sharpest scalpel, separates the Harry Styles from all of his fancy words?

This silence is Louis’ greatest poetry.

See, the downside of being the heralded ‘voice of a generation’ is that the voices in Styles’ head never stop.

Except when Louis makes them stop.

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading. Very loosely inspired by Howl, Ginsberg, Cassady, Kerouac, and the asterisks in Medicine.

＊ 1967: not thinkin' 'bout you all the time [E, 8k, Harry/Louis]

It’s September 1967, the flower children have taken over the Haight, The Beatles are learning to meditate, and their American counterparts travel to an ashram on a California cliffside to do the same. Louis just didn’t expect it to be the new home of their old band member—and his ex, Harry.

When he’d left home four years earlier, Harry never expected to see his childhood friends again, and even though now they’re writing songs around the campfire in earshot of Harry’s cottage, he still doesn’t have to - he can just stay inside and keep meditating. Except that Louis keeps playing the melody of his song.

And one night, Harry breaks.

Loosely inspired by Baby Honey, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, the true story behind The Beatles’ Dear Prudence, CCR, and the countercultural revolution.

＊ 1978: i still crave it, you complicated freak  [M, 3k, Louis/Harry]

"This man is the music.

He’s the embodiment of millennia of human suffering, purging the tears of mankind through the beads of his sweat.

This is Louis Tomlinson.

And he’s fucking magnificent."

It's September 1978, and the king of glam rock, Harry Styles, sneaks into the show of a man who's defining a whole new genre called punk rock and who, okay, also happens to be his ex. Or, at least, well, it's complicated.

Inspired by Complicated Freak, Velvet Goldmine, whatever David Bowie/Mick Jagger/Iggy Pop/Lou Reed had going on, and a dash of Louis at the barricade.

＊ 1991: don't ask me to talk about [M, 5k, Louis/Harry]

In September 1991, Q&A Magazine publishes a cover story and interview with Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, the stars of the ground-breaking queer indie drama, Muse of Fire, but the real story behind their friendship isn't quite what makes it onto the glossy pages.

Inspired by Talk, My Own Private Idaho - the film and its filming, whatever River and Keanu had going on, and the underbelly of early 90s Hollywood and The Viper Room.

＊ Tell me with your mind, body and spirit by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 479 words, Harry/Louis]

Two short drabbles in the Coach Tommo Universe about poems. Part 2 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ And I Can Lend You Broken Parts That Might Fit  [G, 551 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis and Harry talk about Harry's life after becoming pregnant, and a key figure in Harry's life. Part 3 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ Like this with a tight grip by @enchantedlandcoffee [E, 146 words, Louis/Harry]

A smutty drabble with a jealous Louis and an impromptu heart to heart. Part 4 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ Hold On I Still Need You  [T, 1k, Louis/Harry]

"Please pick up. Please, please, please..." Harry muttered, biting the tip of his thumb as he listened to the phone ring. You have reached the voicemail of- "Fuck!" Harry's phone dropped to his bed as he began pacing his room, mumbling to himself as he tugged at his hair. It had been four days. Four days since he had heard from him. Four days since he'd woken up to an empty bed. Four days since- No. No, he couldn't, wouldn't, think of that. He needed to be strong. If not for himself, then for Louis. He paused his pacing and stared at the phone on his bed, the blank screen almost mocking him as he debated his next move. He'd already messaged and called everyone that Louis would go to, desperate for a sign that he was okay. When that failed, he'd run around their town, visiting Louis' favourite places to go. There was one place Harry hadn't searched, that he couldn't bring himself to search just yet.

OR The one where Louis goes missing and Harry desperately tries to find him.

＊ I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life  [G, 358 words, Harry/Louis]

Vows and a kiss to seal the deal

＊ Rush Hour Crush [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry took a moment to take in his knight in shining armour. The man’s hair was swept elegantly across his face, dazzling blue eyes staring back at him. Letting his eyes wander further, he spotted a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the man’s collar and had to stifle a groan, forcing his eyes back to the man’s face. Tattoos were his weakness and he couldn’t very well embarrass himself more in front of the man. So he focused on the man’s face again. He seemed to be only a year or two older than Harry and he could immediately tell why Niall was comfortable leaving Harry with…whatever his name is. He probably should find that out at some point. That’d be good to know for a potential friend, or boyfriend.

OR An eventful meeting, a consuming crush and a meddling best friend.

＊ Come Back, My Love by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose [E, 29k+, wip, Harry/Louis]

Frank and Shelley Harper are masterminds. They’ve created a storefront to entice those with gentle hearts and a willingness to help in times of catastrophe only to capture them for their own twisted goal.

The Victory Project.

The only ones who earn any sort of ‘victory’ are Frank and Shelley. No one else wins. While they don’t know what exactly is done to or with those who join the Victory Project, David has a gut feeling that it isn’t anything good. Part 2 of The Victory Project

＊ like a moth into a flame by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 5k, Zayn/Louis]

Louis’ eyes light up. “Someone wrote a sex poem?” He ignores the way other teachers look their way, lowers his volume, but not by enough, if the narrowing of Zayn’s eyes is any indication. “Someone wrote a sex poem?” He repeats, barely able to keep from giggling. He’s twenty-seven years old and he shouldn’t be so delighted by the fact that some fifteen-year-old in Zayn’s class wrote something raunchy, but he can’t help it.

“Worse,” Zayn mutters, the dejected slump of his shoulders actually making Louis feel a little sorry for him. “Someone wrote a sex poem about me.”

＊ I'll Run (Run To You) [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

What do people need after running a marathon?

Louis remembers the first time he Googled that, about 2.8 minutes after saying goodbye to Harry during a round of speed dating. It was probably a bit of a dickish move, considering he was already sat opposite another, presumably lovely, boy, but all it had taken was one look at Harry and he'd known.

＊ like a bridge over troubled water (I will lay me down) [T, 6k, OT5 friendship]

Zayn loves all of his friends. He just might love Liam in a different way.

Or: a love letter from Zayn to his friends, written in 4+1.

＊ (don't you ever) hope for something else [T, 5k, Zayn/Liam]

A long time ago, in the kingdom Zayn calls home, a foolish king disregarded a prophecy, sending the country into a decade-long war, nearly bringing its people to extinction.

Once the battle had finally been over and peace had been restored, once a new king had been crowned, a new law had been written into place: henceforth, from now until the end of times, no prophecy shall ever be disregarded.

Which is all fine and well, Zayn supposes, until your name is called.

＊ you try to stop it tumbling (but on and on it goes) [G, 2k, Liam & Harry]

Liam just needs to apply himself more.

Liam is smart, he just needs to work harder.

“Focus,” his father had said. “You can do this Liam. Just focus.”

But how? How can he focus when his brain isn’t letting him? When he can sit and stare at his homework for hours, unable to separate one train of thought from another, unable to get a single word onto paper?

Just do it.

That’s what he tells himself, sitting at his desk. Just do it. Just-

＊ The Lovers by @reminiscingintherain [T, 1k, Louis/Harry]

“Come inside,” an eerie voice seemed to echo from the darkness. “Come inside, and seek your destiny.”

＊ Private  [T, 2k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw]

Louis was not in the mood for a nightclub. At all. Let alone a series of them.

But, he sighed to himself, it was his fiancé’s birthday, and this was the event he had chosen.

A club crawl along Canal Street.

Or, it's Nick's birthday, and Louis doesn't want to miss it... but he's not exactly out, and things are not as easy as they should be...

＊ Dear Darlin'  [M, 2k, Niall/Olly Murs]

A series of timestamps from the headline years in Take The World By Storm Part 2 of Take The World By Storm

＊ In Chains [G, 316 words, Harry]

Stream of consciousness

＊ Are We In the Clear by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

England, 1256.

Louis and Harry meet across a crowded court at a time when falling in love would mean their destruction. With help from a friend, they run for their freedom.

Louis urges them on. Harry remembers.

＊ No Place I'd Rather Be [E, 29k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.

Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.

But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.

Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.

＊ The Places I Share With You  [M, 7k, Louis/Harry]

Five times Louis comes home to Harry and one time he's ready to welcome Harry home.

The process of Louis and Harry finding home in each other.

Sequel/Coda/Epilogue to No Place I'd Rather Be. Part 2 of The Places We Share

＊ Fight For Us by @fallinglikethis [E, 11k, Harry/Louis]

Louis isn’t okay.

It’s beyond wrong, the way they’re held in a cage waiting to be chosen for mating. It’s the way it’s been all Louis’ life, but he never wanted to end up like this. He’d hoped against hope that he’d present as a beta since they don’t have these same restrictions on them. They don’t have to adhere to their biology.

And one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

＊ Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s pulled out of his swirling thoughts then by the insistent buzzing of his phone again. He groans and reaches over to decline the call, except that it’s not Jeff calling this time.

It’s Louis.

Despite it being a rather warm day in London, Harry can feel the goosebumps raise on the skin of his arms. And for once he doesn’t really know what to do. For some reason, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that Louis might try to reach out.

Except that Louis is reaching out, which must mean he’s seen the picture.

(Or the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice).

＊ Ace of Hearts by @allwaswell16 [E, 10k, Louis/Harry]

Louis Tomlinson, the alpha Duke of Yorkshire, had returned to England to stay now that he’d married and mated. But since his husband was also the omega he’d once held captive aboard his half-brother’s pirate ship, he held back from pushing Harry into parenthood.

With the Ace of Spades now docked in London, Harry spent time with his friends from the crew and remained a bit oblivious to his alpha’s deepest desires. What he was aware of was his best friend’s hurt and his mother-in-law’s wish for more than friendship with her oldest friend. Part 3 of Ace of Spades

＊ The Cats that Got the Cream by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [M, 3k, Harry/Louis, Liam/Harry/Louis]

When Louis accidentally releases the tiger trapped in Harry's thigh tattoo, Harry has to explain not just what the fuck is happening, but that it's not just a tiger. Luckily, Louis has a secret of his own that might help.

＊ someday, girl, we’re gonna get to that place  [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry's been drawn to pantyhose since he was a kid. If only he could stop taking every snag and run personally.

＊ Shoulder ’n’ the Load  [E, 2k, Louis/Harry, Louis/Louis' band]

When Louis breaks his arm and ends up in the hospital in traction, Harry comes up with an idea to distract him from the pain and discomfort. Louis' bandmates are all too happy to pitch in.

＊ Stable Hand [M, 3k, Harry/Louis, Louis/Zayn]

Harry and Zayn are wealthy ladies of leisure who bond over their shared interests, namely: dressage and cheating on their husbands with the gorgeous young stable boy. Though they both enjoy how submissive Louis is in bed, when they learn he might have it in him to take more control in the bedroom, they decide they might like to try switching things up.

＊ The Doppel Effect  [T, 6k, Harry & Louis]

In a future where the rich and famous can use lifelike android doppelgangers to increase their reach and expand their fortunes, unauthorized use of the technology by enterprising criminals results in a sub-class of doppelgangers referred to as Forgeries.

Harry Styles lives a simple life, far from the luxurious and nefarious worlds occupied by Dops and Forgeries. At least, he's never had a reason to think otherwise. Until a mysterious stranger shows up and threatens to turn Harry's world upside down.

＊ Amenable [E, 3k, Zayn/Louis]

Zayn guides Louis through a marathon day of fucking, exploring Louis' submissive side through a series of varied constraints. Louis is game for it all, because nothing makes him feel freer than following Zayn's rules.

＊ Take Me Home by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 26k, Harry/Louis]

Louis loves his new home, up high on the mountainside, and the perfect place to write his songs. Sure, it’s isolated, but that was the point. No distractions, no interruptions. Peace and quiet and tranquillity.

But when a stranger arrives and asks if he can camp by the riverside, Louis surprises himself by agreeing without a moment's pause.

OR the story of how when you think you’ve got everything you ever wanted, life has a way of showing you just how wrong you were.

＊ Toil and Trouble by stretchmybones / @harryslonecurl [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Harry and Louis are sirens who suck the souls out of humans in order to make potions

＊ in the hope of open hands by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 13k, OT5]

Five times the pack is protective of omega Harry, and one time Harry protects them. Featuring Louis and Liam as alphas, Zayn and Niall as betas, and Harry’s as the band's lone omega. A year and some change in which they’re all falling for each other and not quite getting their shit together (until they do, of course).

＊ you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 59k, Louis/Harry]

“I had a sex dream about Harry.” Louis slapped his free hand over his mouth after the words slipped out.

Zayn paused, his hand freezing as he was about to take a bite, his head snapping up to look at Louis. Louis could relate, it’s how he’d felt that morning after he’d woken up. He’d laid in bed for fifteen minutes trying to figure out what had happened, why it had turned him on so much, and then patiently waiting for his erection to go down.

“Like… my Niall’s Harry? Harry Styles?” Zayn clarified, his face bewildered as if trying to comprehend what had just happened. “Do you even like Harry?”

“His last name is Styles?”

or Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown togethe r only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

＊The Park by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [G, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Harry is a student who is trying to write, but Louis would rather be sleeping tonight. Harry is struggling to find his last rhyme, though the answer may be right there the whole time. Based on this Bert and Ernie skit from Sesame Street

＊ Dirty Bunny [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Harry has a private kink that he likes to indulge in after Louis comes back from his runs. It’s his own dirty secret, until the day he gets caught.

＊ It's human to break, it's hum an to fall [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]

A wobbly ladder and a stubborn Louis don’t make for a good combination, and now he’s left to deal with the painful consequences. His boyfriend Harry can’t help but be annoyed that Louis didn’t listen to him, but he quickly puts aside his irritation when he realizes something else is wrong.

＊ Don't Forge Me [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry wakes up to a fruit bouquet the morning after his last night with his boyfriend. Harry knows he won’t see Louis again for a while, but when he reads the confusing note tucked amongst the melons and pineapple flowers, Harry wonders if he’ll ever see Louis again…

＊ From Now Til Forever (series) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [G/T, 6k, Harry/Louis]

doodles & daydreams 

Harry sits in math class and thinks about Louis. Mediocre teen love poetry is written. A dropped pen becomes a prized possession.

where no one else is

Harry and Louis became friends through watching their parents' marriages fall apart. Sometimes it's hard to believe in love when you watch it crumble. But maybe they can find a way to believe anyways.

you are my christmas

Harry wants their first Christmas together in their first home together to be perfect, something they'll remember for the rest of their lives. He gets one of those two things.

build a time machine

Louis and Harry have been planning to travel across Europe together for years, but never quite had the time or money to do it. Now they have it -- but something is still missing on the trip of a lifetime.

orange blossom

Louis comes home from work with a present for Harry -- or at least, Harry will probably love the present once he finishes being stressed about it.

[afrenchwriter]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @andromeda4004, thank you dear 🥰 Always an interesting game to play, share, and reflect!

How many works do you have on ao3?

17

What's your total ao3 word count?

313,513

What fandoms do you write for?

I launched my AO3 account with a Red Dead Redemption fanfic, and then I discovered Good Omens, and then... well, you know how it goes with this fandom ❤️ That being said, I also had fun exploring the seas during the golden age of piracy (Our Flag Means Death) and the lands of a Norse God (Loki).

Top five fics by kudos:

For His Eyes Only (GO - James Bond AU, M rated, 69K)

Getting Closer (GO - fluffy post-S1 fic, G rated, 3K)

To the End of the Ocean (OFMD - post-S1 fic, M rated, 71K)

Whatever Comes After (RDR - canon divergence AU, M rated, 84K)

Ties & Other Obsessions (Loki - 5+1 fic, T rated, 4K)

Do you respond to comments?

Always! I treasure each and every one of them ❤️ But I have to confess that these past few months have been a bit hard (not much energy, unfortunately), and I'm still trying to catch up on all the lovely comments I've received.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Mmh, good question... I'm afraid I don't know how to do that 🙃 Even the last fic I wrote for the GO historical minisode event (Shadow & Light) was supposed to end on an angsty note, and at the last minute, I decided to add a happy epilogue! But if we're talking bittersweet ending, then it would be Sharp Endings & New Beginnings, a post-S2 Loki fic... If you've seen the show, then you know 🌳

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hard to say, considering my previous answer 😇 but all the long fics listed above have a very happy ending!

Do you get hate on fics?

I did, once, on my OFMD fic... It was a shock, but also an interesting experience: it pushed me to question my narrative choices (and, in the end, confirm them).

Do you write smut?

I do... And I have a second AO3 account dedicated to it 😎 (I wonder how many people will reach this part of the tag game and find this out, eheh)

Craziest crossover:

None for now... (For His Eyes Only cannot be considered a crossover since Crowley is basically James Bond 😎).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! @pavel-pedro has started to translate To the End of the Ocean in Russian... and whether it will be one day finished or not (I know how time-consuming such a work can be!), I'll forever be grateful for the gesture ❤️

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I'm currently co-writing a fic, actually, with my lovely friend @sabotage-on-mercury: a GO/Fleabag AU! We're taking our time for all sorts of reasons, but we want to make sure we deliver quality content, considering the source materials!

All time favorite ship?

The Ineffable Partners, of course. How can you beat a relationship between two beings who have known each other for millennia and have gone through all sorts of ups and downs, down here and out there?

Or, as Neil would say: why? Love ❤️

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

*insert awkward look monkey puppet meme* I don't know, man... I have too many WIPs piling up lately, and not enough energy to work seriously on any of them... I do hope I'll finish all of my GO WIPs someday. But the one WIP I doubt I'll ever come back to (although it makes me sad because the outline I have for this story is WILD) is the sequel of my long RDR fic, called What We Owe to Each Other.

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told several times that I'm good at capturing a character's voice, and that makes me really happy. I'm a huge cinephile and good dialogues, "natural" dialogues, are so important - I'm glad to be able to consider this as one of my strengths! I would like to say developing a plot, too - I love writing long fics and exploring characters' arcs - but I think I'm still too close to the source material for now to consider it a real strength... Room to grow!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a slow writer; I need to develop my ability to use imagery and metaphors; and I need better organization when it comes to writing drafts and editing the whole thing!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Well... I'm French and I write my stories in English + I work as a translator, so... Yes to dialogues in other languages, always (then translated, of course)!

First fandom you wrote in?

I'm not exactly sure, but it must have been between those three: Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings, and Artemis Fowl (ah, teenage years!).

Favorite fic you've written?

That's a hard one... Whatever Comes After will forever have a special place in my heart since it's the fic that 1/ brought me back to writing 2/ helped me prove to myself that I was able to complete a long story. Senses & Sensitivity was my first fic for the GO fandom, and 1/ it made me feel confident to write more for the Ineffable Partners 2/ I made some great connections thanks to it (hello @hasturswig! ❤️). I don't think I've ever had more fun than when I was writing For His Eyes Only (and the enthusiastic comments along the way really helped! ❤️). But, to finish, I'd like to mention When All Is Said and Done, a GO fanfic in the South Downs that just poured out of me after the S2 finale... It really made me experience the magic of writing again.

If you've reached the end, thank you for reading! Feel free to ask me anything... And to consider yourself tagged if you want to play this game, too! ❤️

[mcsquared789]

Update at End of May

Right, it’s been a while since I gave you guys an update. So I figure I will outline what the schedule looks like for the next slate of projects! On an essential level, things are looking really promising for wrapping up Phase 1 way before the end of the year... but we'll see. It all depends on whether I can be prepared with a good backlog of chapters.

So, here’s the rub:

Widowmaker: This was finished well over a week or so ago, and now it’s probably my biggest fic so far other than Iron Man and Hulk??? Not surprising, since sequels require a lot of context and this is... actually a really good entry point into the series. To that end, I am super happy with it — and will definitely be making more of these novella-length fics that focus on original/interim stories. I think they will balance the other fics with more stakes and more complicated plots, and the one-shots as well.

Thor: That leads me to my current project, Thor! I am in the swing of this, and having a blast — writing Jane, Erik and Darcy has been lots of fun. And I am also writing chapters from Loki's POV which have been really interesting, to say the least... hopefully, it's a nice, appropriately tortured perspective. (Can't wait for you Loki lovers to read them. 😉)

Starting in June, I plan to upload chapters regularly every three or four days — and aim to have this fic completed by the end of the month, or somewhere halfway through July. Act I is fully completed out of a planned five, and has seven chapters. As a teaser of what to expect: Act II will have six chapters, Act III will have five, Act IV will have seven and Act V will have eight. (A little uncertain on that last one, but again — we shall see.)

I am really looking forward to you guys seeing where this will go! It will be familiar, I admit. But hopefully, fresh and exciting at the same time, as there will be lots of little changes that might sprout out into big changes... but you will see how it all shapes together when I get back to it in June.

Which leads me to the next project — and the last big one before The Avengers.

Captain America: The First Avenger. Yep, I'm finally getting around to it — and considering how popular Captain America is in particular, I suspect this will find a lot of people. It will be a little dark and gritty, but also with a hint of science fiction that has made this subseries in particular so interesting... but I won't say anymore until it starts getting posted. I'm hoping that will be in the second half of June once I've written enough chapters, and then be completed after July. From then on... we'll see about where Steve Rogers goes next.

As well, I also will be working on two one-shots after both these projects... and one of them will lead directly into Avengers. But I'll talk more about that later. 😁

Alright, I think that's everything! Thank you all for being followers and catching up with what I'm doing. It's not really summer where I am, but I hope there will be enough here to create an exciting summer for you. See you soon!

— (M)

[senashenta]

Falling Stars

Title: Falling Stars

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut ABOUNDS.

Summary: Five years into their relationship and Dean catches a job in Cas’s now-hometown of Tallahassee, Florida. Cas puts his boyfriend up in his place, rather than a motel, because that seems like the logical thing to do. The two of them live a life of slightly weird domesticity while Dean is there and make a decision that could have life-altering consequences. But before they can go through with it… Castiel is Called home.

Notes: If you’re just coming into this, I highly recommend you read the other fics in the series, just click on the “Horror High et al” Master Post link and everything is listed in order. Literally everything has varying degrees of smut in it, so be prepared. :D

Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas, as the rest of this series has been, and as it will continue to be. With… with the exception of that ONE SCENE in Everything I Do. And… and one scene in Storm Season. Yeah. :D;;

My original intent was to write this exclusively for the sake of smut and fluff, but somewhere along the line it developed an actual plot. Go figure. Anyway, Falling Stars leads directly(ish) into Storm Season, which is the ACTUAL sequel to Horror High.

I’ll start posting chapters of Storm Season in December (on Thursday the 5th) after the NaNo is over because I’m going to be trying to write an original novel for the NaNo this year—no fanfiction for the month of November! (Except maybe some editing! :P) Wish me luck!!

So, to the VERY few of you who have come this far with me… see you then and thank you! <3

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

FALLING STARS By Senashenta

[Almost there. Just gassing up. Can’t wait to see you.]

Cas’s apartment was small and large at the same time. Small because it was a bachelor apartment, but large in that it was, well… large, for what it was. Big enough for him to set up separate bedroom and living room areas, with a nook to the one side that fit his desk and a set of bookshelves nicely. His dresser and the rest of his bookshelves were along the wall opposite his bed. The closet was big. The kitchen was tiny but functional. The bathroom was full-sized, even for a bachelor apartment. The rent was a steal, considering.

Still, when he had found the place the summer after his first year at Florida State, he’d had to find a job to pay for it regardless, and that was how he had ended up working at a gas station downtown, Gas-n-Sip, part-time. He wore the uniform vest and everything. His father was also helping to fund him, but Cas liked the idea of making his own way, even if it wasn’t entirely.

Before his apartment, for the first year he’d been attending Florida State, Cas had been living in the dorms and rooming with a young man named Alfie. Alfie was friendly, kind and studious, and they got along very well, but Cas hadn’t liked the dorm environment. How loud and raucous it could get—or the pressure from all sides to drink and party when that really wasn’t who he was or what he was into.

Hence his apartment search after first year.

And he had been living there, along with Itsy and Marshmallow, for almost four years now—and this would be the first time Dean would see the apartment, not counting the tours Cas had given him occasionally while they were video chatting.

The two of them had continued their relationship for all of this time, relying on technology and real-life meetups across the country to get them by, and against all odds it was still working. Cas and Dean were possibly closer than ever, though it had been nearly three months since they had last gotten together—which brought things back around to Dean seeing his apartment for the first time.

The older man was actually going to be in Tallahassee for a job, without his dad, so naturally Cas had offered to put Dean up at his place. There was no way Dean was going to be staying at some fleabag motel downtown when Cas could have him in his bed, instead. Absolutely no way. (Dean hadn’t argued the issue.)

Now, Dean was due to arrive any minute, according to his last text, and Cas was wandering around the apartment, fussing over everything, trying to make sure it was all perfect and in order—except for his bed which was, of course, chronically unmade.

Dean would be getting in just after dinner time, and (assuming he hadn’t grabbed food on the road), Cas was planning to drag him to the Canopy Road Café, a diner nearby where he worked that he had eaten at a few times. He’d thought occasionally that Dean would like it. Then again, Dean might be tired of diner food. They could always order in. Either way was fine with Cas.

When he heard the car pull up outside, Cas moved over to the window, surprised to see the black Impala in one of the parking spots in the side of the building. How Dean had gotten his dad to let him take the car was beyond him. But there he was, climbing out of the driver’s side and hauling a heavy-looking duffle bag along with him. Cas was smiling already.

He managed to wait until he heard Dean’s footsteps coming up the stairs from the landing before hurrying over and yanking the door open. Dean was standing there with one hand raised, about to knock, and blinked slightly before breaking into a huge grin. “You should see how much you’re smiling right now.”

“Probably about as much as you are.” Cas replied, and stepped aside to let Dean in, closing and locking the door behind him. Then he turned around and leaned back against the door, watching Dean look around the apartment for a minute, taking everything in.

When green eyes landed on the unmade bed, Dean laughed. “Some things never change, huh?”

Cas shrugged. He had never seen the point in making his bed every morning just to mess it up again that night. He and his father had argued over that idea until they were both blue in the face, until Chuck had finally just thrown his hands in the air and allowed it—as long as Cas kept the rest of his belongings in order.

“This is nice, Cas.” Dean said finally, after inspecting the apartment for a couple of minutes. He hefted his duffle bag up and set it on top of the blanket box at the foot of the bed, next to the cat bed that sat on one end, then eased over and leaned in for a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Cas returned the kiss easily, smiling into it and sliding his arms around Dean’s waist. “I missed you.”

“Mm, me too. But about yo—” And then he started to sneeze. Cas had almost forgotten about Dean’s cat allergy. But Marshmallow was right there snoozing on the couch and his hair was all over the apartment, so this had been inevitable.

Luckily, Cas was prepared. He let go of Dean, leaving him having a sneezing fit in the main room, and ducked into the bathroom, where he pulled a bottle of antihistamines out of the medicine cabinet. Then he returned to Dean’s side and, opening the bottle, tipped a couple into his hand and held them out for the older man to take. “Here. These will help.”

Dean practically snatched the pills, swallowing them dry in-between sneezes, and then they attempted to continue their conversation around the sneezing with minimal success. Eventually Cas just dragged Dean over to the couch, shooed Marshmallow off of it, and sat them both down. They could just sit together until the meds kicked in, that was fine too.

Twenty minutes later, Dean’s sneezing finally subsided, and he sniffled slightly before rubbing at his nose and offering, “I forgot you had a cat for a minute.”

“Yeah, um, so did I. But I bought the pills a couple days ago just in case this happened.” Cas gave him a sheepish smile, “sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize. You had the meds, problem solved.” Dean chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, humming pleasantly when Cas leaned into his side and brought one hand up to toy with the front of his shirt. “I should probably get out of my jacket. It’s warm in here.”

“Because it’s the top floor, and there are lots of windows.” Cas agreed, “I keep thinking I should get a plant, it would probably do well here. But I guess a lot of houseplants are poisonous to cats, and I don’t know which ones, so so far, I haven’t chanced it.” He didn’t want Marshmallow getting curious and ending up sick, after all.

“That’s fair.” Dean eased away just enough to get out of his jacket and toss it over the arm of the couch, then pulled Cas back into his side again. “I know it’s only been three months since Topeka, but I missed the hell out of you. It’s been tough lately. Dad’s really been all nose to the grindstone.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas nosed into Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss against his pulse gently. “If it helps, I missed you, too.” Then he lifted his head and asked curiously, “your Dad let you take the Impala?”

“You saw that, huh?”

“I looked out the window when I heard you pulling in.”

“Dad gave me the Impala,” Dean grinned at him, “just… out of the blue, a couple months back. Decided to get a truck. Baby’s all mine now.”

“But you said he loved that car!”

“He still does, he’s just…” A shrug and Dean leaned in, angling for a kiss, “moving on, I guess. I’m not complaining.”

“Mm.” Cas hummed a happy noise at the kiss, leaning into Dean further before drawing back and tugging at his shirt gently. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry? I know you were on the road all day…”

The other man chuckled and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “I should probably eat something, yeah.”

“Great,” Cas’s eyes closed over at the kiss to his forehead, and he smiled up at Dean, happiness just brimming over in him. That was what Dean made him feel: utter joy. “I know a really good diner downtown, if you’re up for a walk, or we could order takeout if you’d rather stay in.” He still didn’t cook, and his kitchen showed it, if you cared to look. “Maybe Chinese?”

Dean perked at that. “I haven’t had Chinese in forever. Might be a nice change from the food I usually get on the road.”

Cas’s smile turned fond. “Chinese it is, then. Let me get the menu.”

The next little while was spent going over the menu for Cas’s local Chinese takeout place, playfully bickering over what to get before coming up with a list of dishes that was probably way too long for just two people. They ordered it all anyway. The nice lady on the other end of the phone said it would be about forty minutes, and that was dinner sorted.

While they waited, Dean took a wander around the apartment, actually looking at everything properly. There were some things he recognized from back in Cas’s bedroom in Jacksonville when they were still in high school, but Cas had amassed quite a bit more over his years in Tallahassee—more books, certainly, as well as…

“You actually own DVDs?” Dean sounded astonished. He crouched down to look at the shelves next to the television, where maybe two dozen movies were currently housed, reading over the titles with an amused little smile on his face. He seemed to approve.

“Well, I check out all the ones you recommend to me.” Cas explained, “and some of them have been really good, so I picked them up. I don’t watch them very often, though, you know I’m more of a book person.”

“I know.” Dean straightened again and continued his inspection of the apartment with Cas trailing along behind him. When he got to the dresser, which had Itsy’s terrarium sitting on top of it, he paused again. “How long do these things live, anyway?” He asked, peering into the tank curiously. “You’ve had it a long time, right?”

“Male desert blonde tarantulas live six to eight years, but females can live over twenty-five.” Cas shrugged, “I’ve had Itsy for… seven years now, I think? But I don’t know if he’s male like I’ve been calling him or actually a female. I guess if he dies in the next year or two, I can assume he was male?”

“Otherwise, you’re in for the long haul.” Dean grinned and straightened up, “forget me, this thing’s the real love of your life.”

Cas swatted at his arm, but he was still smiling. “Not funny, Dean.”

“I thought it was funny.” Dean protested.

But Cas still shook his head and reached to grab hold of Dean’s arm, pulling him closer and leaning in for a kiss. Dean hummed into it and Cas sighed. “You are, though.” He said after a moment, “the love of my life. Even if we were to break up, or something was to—happen—to you, with the Hunting. I wouldn’t ever… in my whole life…” Trailing off for a moment, he swallowed and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, eyes closed. “No one could compare to you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, closing his own eyes and tugging Cas closer so he could wrap his arms around the younger man. “Hey,” He said softly, “nothing’s going to happen to me, you know? But even if something did… Cas, I know how you feel, you know I do. You’re it for me. Have been for years. But if something ever happened to me, you can’t just… cut yourself off like that.” He smiled gently, opening his eyes again, “find someone else who completes you. Be happy.”

“Dean…” Cas really didn’t like talking about this, because he knew, realistically, that at best he and Dean had a few more years together before it was all over. That was the life Dean lived. Either the other man would get himself killed somehow—or he would eventually tire of Cas and the long-distance thing and move on entirely. He didn’t say any of this. Instead, he went for another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Came Dean’s immediate reply, soft and warm.

And that was enough for now. Besides, the delivery guy was knocking at the door.

-- --

That night they made love in Cas’s mess of a bed, and it was so, so satisfying in every conceivable way. When they were done, and just cuddled up together in the disheveled blankets, Dean looked up at the ceiling and commented that Cas should have brought his stars from his bedroom back home. He missed the stars.

“I did bring them,” Cas replied, fingers touching along Dean’s bare chest lightly, just mapping and petting, “they’re in a box in the closet. I just never got around to putting them up. Too busy with school and work and you.”

“I’m third on the list?”

“Dean.”

Dean laughed and shifted around until he was on his side, and they were facing each other. He gave Cas a smile. “Let’s put them up. At least some, over the bed. That way you can fall asleep under the stars every night. I like the sound of that.”

Cas gave a little, quirk of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

They pulled on their boxers, and Cas went to dig the stars out of the closet. Then they spent the next hour sticking a starfield up over the bed. Even if they’d wanted to, they didn’t have enough stars to do the whole apartment, but over the bed was enough. When they were done, the remaining stars were tucked back away and they turned off all the lights, returning to bed to look up at their work.

“You’re right, I should have done that a long time ago.” Cas admitted finally.

“I’m usually right, you should know that by now.” Dean replied cheekily.

Cas smacked at him, just a playful swat. He was quiet for a couple of minutes, then, just enjoying the moment and being close to Dean again before his curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked, “so… what kind of a job are you in Tallahassee for, anyway?”

Dean sighed softly. One of his hands rubbed up and down Cas’s arm. “Wraith.”

“Wraith?”

“Yeah, they, ah…” Dean trailed off for a moment, thinking, before continuing with, “they can look human, but their reflections always show what they actually are. They kill people and eat, like… their brain juices? Through this spike in their arms.”

“How do you kill them?”

“Silver. When in doubt, go with silver.”

“Hm.” Cas hummed, just a soft sound in his throat. “You can Hunt one on your own?” He was worried about Dean going solo on this one, after so long. Not that Dean wasn’t a competent Hunter, just… well. Cas would always worry over him, he thought.

“One wraith? Sure. I’ve just gotta track it down, first.” Dean’s hand paused on Cas’s arm, and he glanced at the other man, “speaking of which, you mind if I take over one of your walls? It’s kind of a thing Dad taught me to do, make a sort of… I dunno, vision board with all the stuff about the Hunt I’m working on. Helps me organize my thoughts, you know?”

“Mm-mm.” Cas made a quiet negative noise. “I don’t mind. My walls are all empty anyway.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You need some artwork or something.”

Cas just shrugged. It wasn’t high on his to-do list, obviously, or he would have gotten to it by now. “I have tape.” He offered.

Dean grinned and ducked in for a kiss. “You’re the absolute best.”

-- --

The next morning, Cas woke up to the sun streaming through the windows and a completely empty bed. Or, well, Marshmallow was sleeping on the pillow next to him, but Dean wasn’t there and that was unacceptable. It wasn’t hard to find his boyfriend, in such a small apartment, he just had to sit up, lean over and look to the left and—yep. There he was, standing around in only his boxers, taping pieces of paper to the wall.

Cas stifled a yawn and climbed out of bed to wander over, stopping to stand next to Dean and look at the little collage he was creating. “You got up early.”

“I have a job to do.” Dean reminded him seriously—but then leaned over to drop a kiss by Cas’s jaw with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Cas echoed, still looking over the pieces of paper that were taped up to the wall. “It’s very organized.” He observed.

“I’ve done a few of these in my time,” Dean chuckled, “I call it the Wall Of Weird.”

“Wall Of Weird, huh…”

“You’re real relaxed for a guy who’s in the victim pool.” Dean frowned sideways at Cas, who was still inspecting the Wall Of Weird curiously. When Cas blinked and looked at him, he continued, “all the vics so far are college kids, all straight-A students, top of their class? Sound like anyone you know?”

Cas balked. He hadn’t known that. “Well… sure, but…”

“No ‘buts’, Cas. You need to watch your back. If anything happens to you…”

Cas’s expression flitted to something almost sad, and he reached over to catch one of Dean’s hands in his own. “I’ll be careful, Dean, I promise. But I’m not even in class this week, so that should help keep me safe, right?”

“Maybe, if this thing is stalking the Florida State campus. Better safe than sorry, though.” Dean squeezed Cas’s hand back, then let go and crossed the apartment to dig through his duffle bag, “look, I have something I want to give you.” Finally, he pulled a letter opener out of his bag and headed back over to hand it to Cas; “it’s silver. Just… carry it with you, okay? For me.”

Cas gave him a little, reassuring smile. “I promise.” He repeated softly. “Now if you’re done defacing my walls for now, why don’t you come back to bed?”

Dean chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. “Forever trying to get me in bed with you.”

Cas ducked the kiss with a smile, set the letter opener next to his laptop on his desk and reached to take hold of Dean’s hands, beginning to back toward the bed and pulling Dean along with him. He smiled, amused. “As if you’re any better, when we meet up. Constantly dragging me into bed… or the shower… or onto the couch… or the kitchen table…”

“Hey, the kitchen table is hot sometimes.” Dean defended with a grin.

“Depends on the table.” Cas allowed, pausing when his knees bumped into the mattress and pulling Dean closer against himself, wrapping his arms around him. When Dean angled for a kiss, this time Cas met it, kissing back warmly even as he turned them around—and then gave Dean a shove, pushing him back onto the bed. Dean went down with a squawk and landed with an ‘oof’ but grinned up at him the entire time. Cas let him shimmy his way up the bed a little before joining him, climbing onto the bed himself and over to throw a leg across Dean’s hips, settling straddling the other man. “That one table half collapsed on us, remember?”

“That was one time,” Dean protested, even as Cas leaned down to kiss along his shoulder, inward to the crook of his neck before lifting up and smiling down at him, angling his head for a proper kiss. Dean returned it enthusiastically, hands sliding up Cas’s sides under the t-shirt he’d slept in the night before. Cas broke off and sat back to strip out of it a moment later, tossing it to the ground carelessly. Dean’s hands wandered farther up, around to grope at Cas’s chest, then easing down to his abdomen. “You’re freaking gorgeous.”

“So you keep saying.” Even if he didn’t necessarily agree with Dean’s assessment, Cas respected his opinion at the very least. He didn’t argue so much, anymore, when Dean complimented him, called him things like gorgeous or amazing.

“It’s true.” Dean pulled him back down for another kiss, one hand sliding around to hold at Cas’s back and the other reaching to grab the lube from the nightstand where it had been discarded the night before. “Take your shorts off.”

“Only if you take yours off, too.” Cas laughed, but he was already lifting up and off to the side to strip out of his boxers. By the time he was done Dean was naked again as well and he settled next to the older man, licking his lips and looking at him heatedly. “You’re up.”

Dean chuckled. “You bet I am.” Because dick jokes were kind of his thing sometimes. He quickly uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers, then settled himself half-over Cas and reached to start stretching him out, fingers working deftly, obviously practiced as he worked the other man over, purposefully rubbing against his prostate as much as possible the entire time.

Cas just submitted himself to Dean’s touch, arching and moaning, one arm up and flung over his eyes, chest heaving as he gasped out little, stilted cries, his entire body trembling—and then it was over. Dean was pulling his hand away, leaving Cas to pant breathlessly for a moment because Goddamn Dean was good at that.

When Dean made to settle over him, though, Cas muttered a quiet negative noise and pushed him down onto his back instead, then climbed on top of him again, reaching with one hand to hold Dean’s straining dick steady while he lifted up on his knees—and sank down over him, taking the older man’s cock deep into his own body with a long, low moan. “Oh, God, Dean… yes…!”

Dean’s hands grabbed at his thighs, fingers digging in slightly, and he tossed his head back against the pillows, giving a low moan of his own.

This was one of their favorite ways to have sex, and for very similar reasons: in this position Dean could watch every second of Cas coming undone on top of him, and Cas could see every single micro-expression on Dean’s face as he got deeply, thoroughly fucked. Or… technically, he supposed, Dean was still doing the fucking, even though Cas was on top.

“Damnit, Cas… move.”

Cas just nodded mutely, braced his hands against Dean’s abdomen, and started rocking his hips, just little, easy movements at first, but very quickly working up to riding Dean hard, rolling his hips and dropping down on his boyfriend’s cock firmly while Dean thrusted up into him at the same time—slamming them together each and every time.

Soon they were both panting breathlessly, Dean’s nails digging into Cas’s thighs and Cas’s hands gripping tight against Dean’s abdomen while they moved together, the bed rocking under them while Cas fucked himself hard on Dean’s cock, shoulders hunched and head falling forward, little whines and curses from his mouth with every movement. “God… yes… fuck, Dean… ah, harder…!”

Dean grunted an affirmative and redoubled his efforts. They fucked hard and rough, bordering on painful at times and all the better because of it. Like they hadn’t had sex in years when they had, in fact, just done so the night before. But neither of them could ever get enough of the other, always craving more.

This time it was Dean who came first and with an almost startled shout, bucking his hips up into Cas’s harshly a couple of times before collapsing back—but Cas wasn’t quite there yet. He whined and paused, panting for air as he rolled off Dean and landed on his back beside him. “Dean.” He protested breathlessly. “Unfair.”

“I know.” Dean agreed, “I’m on it.” Still breathing hard himself, he shuffled around and ducked down to suck Cas’s throbbing erection into his mouth, diving deep and sucking heatedly, enthusiastically, at the same time shoving two fingers into the other man and pushing them deeply, right up against Cas’s prostate, rubbing firmly.

Cas wailed breathlessly, and it only took a moment of Dean’s onslaught before he was coming as well, hard, back arching and hips jerking against Dean’s mouth. When he slumped back, Dean pulled off him with a slurp, swallowing down the slippery feeling of come even as he pressed his fingers against Cas’s prostate once more, curiously.

Cas was so overstimulated it practically hurt, and he whined, reaching one hand down to shove at Dean weakly. “I’m done…”

That made Dean smile, and he pulled his hand away before climbing up to collapse next to Cas, one arm slung over the younger man’s chest while they both continued panting for air.

“You’re amazing,” Dean managed after a moment, sounding sleepy.

Cas was already falling asleep as well. “Mm,” He agreed, “ditto.”

-- --

Some time later, after they’d had an impromptu nap, Cas was laying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his chin. Dean was next to him, on his back with one arm tucked behind his head. Once things had settled down, Marshmallow had hopped up to sit at the foot of the bed, staring in the unsettling, incessantly grumpy way that Cas was more than used to by now, but Dean still found uncomfortable.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas shifted, rolling over and easing up against Dean’s side, allowing the older man to wrap his arm around him. They both settled comfortably, and Cas was quiet for a long while before he spoke again, hesitantly; “don’t… freak out.” He said finally, “but I’ve been thinking and… maybe we could get married. Or something. Don’t you think?”

It was something that had been weighing on him for some time, now, the thought of marrying Dean, but having the older man actually there, in his apartment, it seemed to be driving the idea home.

“Cas—” Dean began, already sounding exasperated just with that one word.

“No, hear me out!” Cas hurried to explain, looking up at Dean and digging his fingers into Dean’s chest lightly, almost for emphasis. “Nothing would have to change, you could still travel and Hunt, you’d just… come back here in-between. We could have an apartment and a home together, we could have… domesticity. You know? But mostly…” Trailing off slightly, he swallowed and finished, “mostly we’d be married. And that’s something…” He trailed off. Dean was frowning. That wasn’t a good sign. Cas leaned his head back down on Dean’s shoulder and smoothed his hand against his chest with a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s a stupid idea. Just forget it.”

There was a long, long silence between them, then, and Cas finally made to pull away, afraid he had really screwed up this time—but Dean held him close, tightening his arm around him, not allowing him to simply flee. “Cas, I…” Dean swallowed audibly and then cleared his throat before; “being… tied to me like that. It would make you a target, and I can’t do that to you. I can’t.”

“I’m already tied to you like that,” Cas replied softly, “I have been for years. If something really wants at me, I’m not going to be hard to find. And it wouldn’t be your fault. You can’t put that on yourself. My safety.”

“I can and I absolutely will.” Dean told him firmly. One hand rubbed up and down Cas’s arm, the touch almost restless in nature. Anxious. “Cas, if I could, don’t you think…” His hand paused and he squeezed Cas’s arm. “I never thought I was the marrying type, but I would marry you in a second if I thought it was safe for you.”

“What if I asked?” Cas pushed up a little to look at Dean properly again, expression serious and sincere, “what if I asked you to marry me? I—would that make a difference? You once said you’d quit Hunting for me if I asked you to and I refused to do that, but… do this. For me. Because it’s important to me.” His brows drew together, and he continued, “we can ward this place against everything, plant hex bags in the walls… make it as safe as it can possibly be. And I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay, and we’ll be married.”

“Cas…” Dean looked up at him quietly for a moment, and Cas could feel the possibly misplaced determination beginning to fade in him—when the other man finally reached with his free hand and tugged Cas down for a kiss, then murmured against his lips, “yeah okay. Okay, Cas. Let’s… let’s do it.” Pulling him even closer, Dean pressed their foreheads together and added, “but don’t you ever die on me, Cas. Don’t you dare die on me.”

A little flash of a smile and Cas came back with, “I could say the same thing to you, you know.”

Dean actually chuckled at that. “Good point.” He tilted his head to kiss Cas again, slow and deep, before murmuring, “if I tell Dad I’m engaged he’ll never let me live it down, you know. He’ll freak out. He’ll scream and yell. Lecture me for hours.” He grinned, “the things I go through for you.”

A sudden, inexplicable rush of relief—followed by another flood of absolute joy. Cas returned Dean’s grin with one of his own and ducked in to kiss him once more, unable to help smiling against his lips. “I love you so much, Dean. And trust me, I appreciate every single thing you go through for me. But this especially, this is…”

“I know. I love you, too.” Came Dean’s reply. Despite his initial reluctance—which he still felt, if he was honest with himself—this really felt important to him, too. “But we really need to lock this place down. I don’t want anything to happen to you, if we do this.”

“We will,” Cas agreed, but he was already climbing up, slinging one leg over Dean to straddle him and leaning down for another kiss, “just not right this second, okay?”

As if sensing what was to come, Marshmallow vacated the bed, tottering off to hop up on the couch in the living area and curl up there. Cas was privately glad his cat had so much common sense—probably more than even he had at times. Especially right now, because…

As much as he tried to reassure Dean that he would be fine, he would be safe, Cas knew that if they went through with this it would be like painting a target on his back. As soon as Dean was wearing a ring—which, admittedly, he might refuse to wear, and with good reason—every evil thing out there would know he had someone to come home to after a Hunt. Somewhere to come home to—an actual base of operations that could be tracked down and plundered. And Cas just happened to be there. He would be even more of a liability than he already was.

It really was a stupid idea, all things considered…

And Cas still wanted to do it more than anything he had wanted to do in his entire life, except maybe in those first few days when he and Dean were still only friends, but he had just wanted to kiss the other man within an inch of his life.

“You know we just had sex like an hour ago, right?” Dean sounded amused.

Cas just leaned down for another kiss. “I don’t care. Make love to me.”

Dean smiled into the kiss. “Yeah, I can do that.”

-- --

They spent all of that day completely wrapped up in each other, barely ever even leaving the bed, cuddled up together and talking in-between bouts of rather vigorous lovemaking. Marshmallow avoided the area completely for most of that time. Every time he ventured over, they ended up falling back into having sex and scaring him away again. Neither of them felt guilty about that in the least.

The next morning, Dean was up early and off to hunt down the wraith in town, and Cas had a bowl of cereal for breakfast while he apologized to his cat for the day before. There may have been bribery treats involved.

Then, around lunch time, he decided to give Charlie a call.

Charlie had done her travel year after high school, keeping in touch with everyone via social media and texting, sending the occasional postcard (Cas still had all the ones she had sent to him tucked away in one of his desk drawers) and then come back ready to buckle down. Now she was in her final year at MIT and going strong. Since she’d come back, she and Cas had started video chatting on a regular basis, and it was… nice. To have someone to really talk to again.

Not that Cas couldn’t (and didn’t) talk to Dean, but there were some things he didn’t feel comfortable discussing with the older man—usually things about Dean himself that Cas had to get off his chest—and Charlie was still his best friend. They could talk about anything, any time.

Now he clicked on her name in his contacts and waited for her to pick up, idly picking at the edge of the sofa cushion, anticipation making him restless. After a couple of rings Charlie’s face popped up on the screen of his computer and he smiled widely—so widely that she balked immediately and gave him an odd look.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well… stop it, you’re freaking me out.”

Cas tried to get a hold of his grin and failed spectacularly. “Dean is spending the week here with me.” He told her finally.

“Oooooh.” Charlie made an understanding noise, “I get it now. But like… still. Stop. That’s way too big of a smile for you, Cas.”

“I can’t help it.” Cas protested, then; “he’s in town for a job. It’s the first time he’s ever been here, and I mean, he’s working, too, but I still get him when he’s on down-time. I didn’t even have to spend two days on the bus this time, it’s… fantastic, Charlie.”

“What kind of a job is he working?” Charlie asked curiously—

And Cas just responded simply, “wraith Hunt.”

He had yet to tell Dean, but about two years ago he had broken down and told Charlie everything—the truth about Dean and his family, what they did and what they stood for, about Hunters and what was actually out in the world. About what had happened at Caspar High their senior year. At the time he had just needed someone to talk to about everything, and he trusted Charlie not to tell anyone else. He didn’t regret the choice to tell her, either. She had taken it rather well and it was nice to have someone to confide in, when Dean was on dangerous Hunts and he was worried sick.

“Wraith?” Charlie tilted her head to the side curiously.

“They, ah… they use these spikes to suck the neural fluids out of people.” Cas told her, just the bare-bones basic version of what they actually did. “I guess different wraiths seek out different types of victims, depending on their tastes in… brains. This one is going after straight-A college kids. Really intelligent people.” A pause, then, and he added, “Dean says I have to be careful because I’m in the potential victim pool.”

She nodded along, then reached to the side, coming up with a can of Redbull and taking a sip, “sounds like. But with Dean around… I mean, he’ll make sure you’re safe, right? He’d never let anything happen to you.”

Cas smiled again, this time soft and fond. “No, he wouldn’t.” Then he hesitated before clearing his throat and offering, “but that’s not what I called you for, Charlie. I wanted to tell you… I mean. It’s no big deal, it’s not going to be a big deal, we’re specifically not making it a big deal, but—”

Charlie grinned slightly. “Just spit it out already, Cas.”

“We’re…” Cas trailed off before licking his lips and trying again; “we’re getting married. Dean and I.” And when he saw the light flare in her eyes, he waved one hand to cut her off before she could even start, “we’re just going to go to the courthouse, that’s all! No—no wedding or anything, just the two of us and the judge. But, ah… we need a witness. And I wanted to ask… if you thought you could get here…?”

“No way, I totally get to be your best man!” Charlie’s voice rose a pitch in excitement, and she leaned closer to the camera, “I will run there if I have to. Tell me what day and I’m there.” Then a little, borderline-squeal and she added, “I am so happy for you, Cas!”

Another little, soft smile, and Cas nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“But how will it work with the…” Trailing off, Charlie waved one hand in a generally encompassing manner, “Hunting. And everything.” She paused then, her smile fading into a frown, and asked, “won’t it be dangerous for you?”

“That’s what Dean said,” Cas sighed, glancing to the side when Marshmallow hopped up beside him and reaching to pet the cat almost automatically, “he’ll still Hunt. He’ll just… come back here, in-between, instead of us meeting up in random motels all over the country. And we can lock this place down, protection wards and sigils and hex bags and everything…”

Charlie was quiet for a moment, obviously mulling everything over, but then she smiled again. “I’ll take your word for it.” Her tone was genuine and sincere when she spoke again, repeating firmly, “I’m happy for you, Cas, really.”

And that was somehow… relieving. Charlie’s opinion mattered to him a lot, and if she had been against this whole thing Cas wasn’t sure how he would have taken it. Now he just smiled back at her. “Thanks, Charlie.”

A long, drawn-out sigh and she propped her chin in her hand before saying, “I can’t believe Dean Winchester is actually getting married. He had Eternal Bachelor written all over him right from day one, and you snagged him anyway. It’s crazy. Do you think he’ll actually wear the ring?”

Cas laughed at that. “Probably not. It’s safer if he doesn’t. But that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Is he still wearing the cuff you had me make for him?”

“Yes. It’s getting worn, though. Not sure how much longer it’ll last.”

“I’m surprised it’s lasted this long, given his job and everything.”

“You have a point.” Cas chuckled. When Marshmallow climbed into his lap and flapped his tail in Cas’s face, he gently pushed the cat away, “Marshmallow, you know better. I’m trying to talk to Charlie.”

“Hi, Marshmallow~” Charlie sounded amused. She sipped at her drink again before asking, “are you happy, Cas? You seem happy.”

“Everything will be complicated, but it already is. And this way he’ll have a home to come back to, after everything he sees on his Hunts. I can give him that. And to know that he’ll be mine, really, officially mine…” Cas glanced down, then back up with a little smile, “I am happy, Charlie. I really am.”

Charlie returned his smile with one of her own. “So, all you’ve got to do is tell me when I have to be in Tallahassee for your freaking wedding, then.”

-- --

When Dean walked in at eleven thirty that night he was covered in slime and gore and general grossness and carrying a foot-long spike in one hand, his duffle bag in the other. He dropped his duffle by the door, kicked it closed behind him and announced with a grin, “honey, I’m home!”

Cas had been sitting in the living room, elbow deep in one of his Theology textbooks, and some of the homework he had collected to make up for not being in class for an entire week and looked up long enough to roll his eyes. “Are you just going to be like this from now on, forever?”

Dean just continued to grin. He was enjoying this whole marriage idea even more than Cas was, Cas thought. The older man locked the door securely behind himself and wandered farther into the apartment, setting the spike on the kitchen counter to begin stripping out of his frankly disgusting clothes. “Just let me have this for a while, Cas, it’s still new and shiny.”

“We aren’t even married yet.” Cas pointed out, setting his books aside and pointing toward the laundry basket. “In there, please, I don’t want to have to wash monster gunk off the floors. I’ll do laundry tomorrow.”

Dean hummed an agreeing noise and continued stripping down, dumping all his filthy clothes in the laundry hamper as told. Then he headed over to lean down and drop a kiss against Cas’s lips. “I’m having a shower. Wanna join me?”

“I would but I still have two chapters to get through tonight.” As if Dean wouldn’t distract the hell out of him the entire time. Cas had no illusions about that. He would be lucky to get even another chapter finished, never mind two. When Dean pouted at him, Cas pushed at his chest lightly. “No shower sex this time.”

“Boo.” Dean protested with a little disappointed noise, as if they hadn’t already fucked twice earlier in the day and absolutely would again before going to bed that night. Cas tried and failed to keep the little amused smile off his face as the older man made his way through to the bathroom, calling back to him, “it still counts if I jerk off and think about you!”

“Whatever you say, Dean!”

While Dean was in the shower, simultaneously getting clean and dirty, Cas took the opportunity to make a call and order pizza—because as much as he was joking about sex, Cas knew that Dean was probably starving. It would likely arrive shortly after the other man got out of the bathroom, which meant that as much as he wasn’t done studying… Cas was done studying. They needed the coffee table for dinner.

That decided, he quickly packed up his books and papers and returned them to his desk, then fed Marshmallow some treats when the cat started fussing at him, and returned to his seat on the couch, this time with a book to read until Dean rejoined him.

It took a while. Dean probably did jerk off in the shower. Cas tried very hard not to be too amused by that thought. Even at twenty-three years old, now, they both still had the libidos of teenagers… but then again, they were apart a lot of the time, too. If they were living together full-time it might be a little better. Less of a novelty. Not that Cas was complaining.

When Dean finally did emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, he was looking clean and refreshed and pleased with himself. He headed over to his bag and started digging out a fresh set of clothing, pulling on a pair of boxers and a clean pair of jeans before crossing the room to sit down next to Cas—at which point he leaned in and nuzzled at the younger man’s jaw affectionately. “You missed out.”

Cas chuckled softly, turning his attention from his book and tipping his head to give Dean a kiss. “I’m sure we’ll make up for it later.” Closing his book, he set it on the coffee table, then turned to face Dean properly. “I ordered pizza. I figured you’d be hungry.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“It’ll be here soon. How did your Hunt go?”

“Well, you know, the good guys won, so… go team!” Then a pause before Dean added, “and by team I mean me. I’m the team.”

“Yes, I gathered that.” Cas laughed and leaned into his side a little, smiling to himself. “It’s nice that your Dad lets you do solo Hunts again, finally.”

“After he yanked my privileges after the first one?” Dean asked, tone fond. “Worth it, though.”

“I do worry about you Hunting alone, at least with your Dad you had backup.” The younger man admitted, glancing up at Dean again, “if something happens, if you get trapped or hurt or—or something worse… then what?”

Dean sighed softly and wrapped an arm around Cas, giving him a gentle squeeze. He tipped his head to drop a kiss against his forehead. “We’ve had this conversation before, Cas, and no matter what I say the job won’t get any less dangerous. It’ll always be risky, but you have to accept that it’s worth the risk to Hunt, to save people, to make the world a safer place for everyone.” Frowning slightly, he bumped his forehead by Cas’s temple and asked quietly, “are you absolutely sure you want to marry into this insanity?”

It was a fair question, Cas supposed, coming from Dean’s point of view. Cas just leaned into him a bit more and answered simply, chidingly, “Dean.”

“What? I have to ask. It’s not too late to back out yet.”

“But I don’t want to back out. I’ve never wanted to be in something so much in my entire life.”

“I…” Dean hesitated, as if he wanted to argue some more, but then changed his mind and wrapped his other arm around Cas, too, pulling him into a hug. Cas went willingly, bringing his own arms up around Dean as well. “Yeah. I feel the same way. I’m just… worried. For you. That’s all.”

“I know.” Cas nuzzled into the crook of Dean’s neck, pressing a kiss there warmly, “but I really will be alright. You know how to ward this place, all the symbols and sigils and stuff. And you can get the hex bags, right? I can even carry one around with me, if you want. It’ll be like I’m invisible. I’ll keep going to school and working at the Gas-n-Sip and you’ll keep Hunting and… come home. To me. In between.” Then a smile against Dean’s skin and he added, “Charlie was very enthused to be my best man, by the way. Her words, not mine.”

That made Dean laugh. He leaned back into the couch and pulled Cas along with him, ending up with the other man tucked into his side comfortably. “Dad and Sammy really should be there…” He sighed and shook his head, “but Dad wouldn’t come even if I asked him to, he’d boycott it on principle alone. And Sam’s just gone off to Stanford, I can’t exactly pull him away all across the country. He’d hate me.” A pause, then, and he muttered, “if he doesn’t already.”

His relationship with Sam had been sliding in the last couple of years, and Dean was more than aware of that fact. The fiasco between Sam and their dad over Sam leaving for Stanford was just the latest in a great long line of crap that had been going on in his family. It wasn’t a stretch to think that Sam wasn’t his biggest fan at the moment, for more than one reason.

“I think you’re underestimating your Dad and Sam… especially Sam. I think you’d be surprised, if you just talked to him.” Cas advised softly. “You should call them. You have to call your Dad to report in about the wraith thing anyway, right?”

Dean let his head fall back and heaved a sigh. “Cas, I really don’t feel like being yelled at for three hours straight tonight…”

Cas lifted his head to offer Dean a gentle smile. “Call tomorrow, then. After we’ve had a good night’s sleep. I can go to the library to study, and you can have the place to yourself to make your calls.” Leaning up, he pressed a kiss by Dean’s jaw. “I don’t know about your Dad, but Sam will be happy for you. You’ll see.”

“If you say so…” Dean didn’t sound sure, himself, but before he could make any more arguments there was a knock on the door.

Cas pushed away from his boyfriend and sat up straight, glancing over. “Pizza’s here. Put a shirt on we don’t want to give the pizza guy a free show.”

“You don’t really want me to put a shirt on.” Dean accused with a grin.

A little chuckle and Cas stood, fishing out his wallet and heading for the door. “Shirt, Dean.”

“Aw.”

Dean did, indeed, pull on a t-shirt after that, while Cas paid for the pizza and brought it inside, closing the locking the door behind himself and then taking it over to the coffee table, setting it down there. Then he went to the kitchen and reached into the fridge, pulling out a beer for Dean before heading back to take a seat on the couch again.

When Dean joined him a moment later, Cas handed him the beer with a smile and reached to open the pizza box.

“You really didn’t have to do this for me,” Dean commented, indicating the beer. “I know you don’t exactly keep it in the house.”

“But I’m old enough to buy it.” Cas shrugged as he helped himself to a slice of pizza. “The store I work at sells it, and I know you like it, so…” He shrugged, taking a bite of pizza and watching Dean open his beer. “I guess I figured you could probably use a beer after a Hunt, right? That’s an alcohol kind of occasion?”

“After a good Hunt, after a bad Hunt, after any Hunt, basically.” The older man agreed with a chuckle and downed a gulp from the bottle in his hand, giving a contented sigh afterward. “Not my usual brand of Cheapest On The Shelf. It’s good.” A grin. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Cas mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.

He watched intently as Dean took another drink and then set the beer down to pick up a slice of pizza. He took an initial normal-sized bite—but then began eating like he was starving, wolfing down the rest of the slice in record speed before quickly taking a second, as if suddenly realizing how hungry he actually was.

Cas had kind of expected this. Granted, he had only ever been around Dean post-Hunt once before, and he had been rather unconscious at the time, but it made sense. The expenditure of physical and mental energy and all that. But also—

“Why didn’t you eat breakfast before you left today?” He asked Dean, tipping his head curiously.

Dean was reaching for his third slice of pizza. “I was… nervous, I guess. About the Hunt. My first solo in five years. Had my stomach all twisted up.” Another huge bite of pizza and he added around it, “don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

“You’re supposed to be the big tough Hunter.” Cas gave a quirk of a smile, going for a second slice of pizza, himself. He laughed softly when Dean gave him a look. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”

They finished the rest of their dinner in relative silence, just a few words exchanged here-and-there while they ate. Cas gave a little piece of bacon to Marshmallow when he wandered over—and when Dean started sneezing, Cas hurried to grab the antihistamines.

Dean took a couple of them with a swallow of beer, then muttered about cats around his pizza for the next few minutes until the pills kicked in. Cas found it amusing and adorable at the same time, especially when Marshmallow meandered across to rub on Dean’s legs—and Dean actually dropped a hand to scratch his head.

When Dean caught him looking, he demanded, “what?”

To which Cas replied, “you like my cat.”

“I do not.” Dean grumped, picking up his beer to take another drink. When that finished off the bottle, he set it down again. Then he leaned back into the couch once more, lifting his arm for Cas when the younger man shuffled over to lean into his side. “Thanks for the food, Cas. And the beer. I really needed that.”

Cas made a pleased noise and turned his head to nose against Dean’s jaw. “You’re welcome.”

Dean hummed and shifted, slowly maneuvering Cas around, pulling him up into his lap—and he leaned in for a kiss. “You know what else I really need?” He asked against Cas’s lips.

A laugh from Cas as he settled on Dean’s lap and tilted his head to return the kiss; “I can probably take a guess.”

“You get three, but you’ll only need one.” Dean’s hands were rubbing down Cas’s thighs, then back up again.

Cas shifted. “We need to get some sleep tonight, you know.”

“Mmhm,” Dean angled his head to kiss him again; “less talking, more kissing.”

Cas’s response was a very articulate “mmh.”

-- --

The next day, the Hunt finished, Cas and Dean let themselves sleep in until almost noon. When they did climb out of bed, it was after a long while of cuddling and making out, morning breath be damned, just enjoying each other—being close to each other. After that they had cold pizza for breakfast before climbing in the shower together—where they, perhaps miraculously, didn’t even have sex. Then Cas packed up his books to go to the library while Dean began to take apart the Wall Of Weird, already anxious over his impending phone calls.

Dean said a long, drawn-out goodbye at the door, just hedging for time and Cas knew it. So eventually he put a stop to it with a little, affectionate kiss and a pat against Dean’s chest. “It’ll be okay, Dean. You’ll do fine. Call me when you’re done, and I can come home.” He turned to leave—then paused and added, “tell Sam I said hi!” before scooting out the door.

It took another good forty-five minutes and more picking at the Wall Of Weird before Dean finally got up the nerve to call his dad, and it did not go well. To no one’s surprise, John Winchester reacted… badly. To his eldest son’s news. He shouted at the top of his lungs for nearly an hour and a half while Dean ripped at the Wall Of Weird the entire time out of frustration before finally just flat-out hanging up on Dean. Dean stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment before dropping it on the couch and bringing his hands up to rub the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He still had to call Sam.

More procrastination. He finished taking down the Wall Of Weird and tossed everything into the trash, vowing to buy Cas at least one poster for his walls in the near future. Finally, he decided to bite the bullet and dug his laptop out of his duffle bag. It was old and somewhat creaky, but it still worked and that was the important thing.

When he clicked on Sam for video chat, he honestly didn’t think his brother would even answer but after several excruciatingly long rings, the window opened up and Sam’s face appeared on the screen in front of him.

For just a moment, Dean blinked blankly at Sam.

“Dude, what do you want?” Sam demanded.

“I—” Dean hesitated before muttering, “first of all? Rude. And I’m only calling because it’s important, Sammy.”

Sam sighed deeply, obviously annoyed. “Something happen to Dad?”

“What? No. No, no. Dad’s fine, just a dick like usual.” Dean waved a hand dismissively, “it’s about me, I… ah.” Pausing, he glanced down, green eyes flitting back and forth. Considering how this had gone with their dad, he really wasn’t looking forward to actually telling Sam his news. He was just going to get yelled at again, right? “I don’t know how to say this…”

On the other end of the call, Sam rolled his eyes, “come on, Dean.”

Dean made a frustrated noise and glared at his brother, then palmed over his face before blurting; “okay, look, I’m getting married, alright!”

There was a long, long silence on the other end of the line and Dean glanced to the side. After a while Sam asked almost dumbly, “come again?”

Another frustrated sound in the back of his throat and Dean chanced a glance toward the screen again. Sam didn’t look angry, just… surprised. Dean swallowed and forced himself to continue; “Cas and I. We’re. I mean. I’m in Tallahassee right now and we got to talking and just… we decided we’re going to do it.” Then a short pause before he added, awkwardly, “it’s… no big deal. We’re not having a freaking wedding or anything, we’re just going to go to the courthouse, but… yeah.”

When he stopped talking and looked away again there was another long silence before, finally, “…shit, man. It’s about time. Congratulations.”

Dean stopped. Looked back at the computer, at Sam, who was—smiling? He was smiling. Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding and offered a tentative smile in return. “Heh. Thanks. Thanks, Sammy.”

“You called just to tell me that?”

“Well yeah, but... also. We haven’t got a date yet, but Cas has Charlie signed up to be his best man and I—shit, this is so hard. Why is this so hard? What is wrong with our freaking family, man? I—”

“Hey, you’re spinning out again. Say what you’re trying to say.”

“I just… I want you there. If you can make it. I know you’re all the way in California, but it’s—it’s important to me. That you be there. As my best man. So. Do you think?”

“Dean, you’re my brother, you’re getting married to the love of your life and you want me to be there as your best man—of course I can make it. For you and for Cas.” Sam had an amused smile on his face now, though it faded a moment later when he asked, “I take it Dad didn’t take the news so well?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think he’s talking to me anymore. He completely blew a fuse. Yelled at me for an hour and a half and then hung up on me.”

“Not a surprise. I’m sorry, though.”

“Only in our family, right? Cas called this one, though.”

“How do you mean?”

“I was sure you wouldn’t even pick up when I called. He said to try anyway, that you would surprise me. He says hi, by the way.”

“Cas has always had good instincts for things like that.” And then; “hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Dad may not be on board, but I think Mom would have been happy for you. I think she would’ve really liked Cas.”

“…yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right, Sam. Thanks.”

They actually ended up talking for nearly an hour, about all kinds of things. Dean getting married, of course—Sam had laughed when he found out that it was Cas who actually did the asking—but also just life stuff. How Sam was doing in California, how he was settling in, was he excited for his first year at Stanford in the fall? Had he made any friends? They avoided Hunting talk because Sam wouldn’t want to go there, but Dean described Cas’s—soon to be his—little apartment and what he’d seen of Tallahassee so far. It was actually nice, to just talk like brothers—like friends—again.

Eventually Sam did have to go, though, and they left things on good terms, with Dean promising to text him the details for the date and time he needed to be at the courthouse in Tallahassee as soon as he knew them. Sam congratulated him again before they hung up, and once he had shut the computer Dean leaned back into the couch with a sigh, a little, pleased smile on his face. Cas had been right.

After a couple of minutes to process everything, Dean retrieved his cell phone from where he had dropped it after the disastrous call with his dad and called Cas to let him know it was safe to come home from the library. Cas could hear him smiling over the phone and immediately knew at least something had gone well. He promised to pack up and be home as soon as possible.

Forty-five minutes later, when Cas walked in the door, it was to have Dean immediately grab his backpack and drop it out of the way, then wrap his arms around him and heft him completely off his feet in a tight hug. Cas laughed and allowed it, bringing his arms up around Dean’s neck as he was set back down and pulled in close. “I take it things went alright?”

“With my Dad? Hell no, he was pissed. He may never talk to me again. But with Sammy… yeah.” Dean smiled and angled for a kiss, which Cas happily gave him, “you were right,” He murmured against Cas’s lips, “I was underestimating him. Sam was happy for me. Actually happy for me.”

“I told you.” Cas sighed, tilting his head for another kiss, one hand sliding up to thread into Dean’s hair gently, “Sam’s still a good kid. He loves you.”

“Mmhm,” Came Dean’s muffled reply, and he began backing them toward the bed. Marshmallow was sleeping in the middle of it and vacated quickly when he saw them incoming. Cas barely even noticed, too wrapped up in kissing his boyfriend to care.

When Dean’s knees hit the bed he tumbled backward onto the mattress, dragging Cas with him. Cas went down with a laugh, landing on top of him and pulling a little ‘oof’ from Dean before they were kissing again—warm and gentle and loving—and there was no question how this was going to go, this time, at least in Cas’s mind.

After a few long minutes of just making out, Dean gave Cas a gentle shove and Cas climbed off him with a laugh, standing to let him work his way up onto the bed properly. He also took the time to take his jeans off, which Dean watched with sharp eyes before following suit, shimmying out of his own without getting off the bed. Cas grabbed them and dumped them on the floor, then climbed onto the bed again, over to lean over Dean with a smile.

“You still amaze me.” Dean reached up to cup his jaw, then slid his hand back to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair and tugged him down into another kiss; “I think you always will.”

Cas settled over him, kissing back easily, but murmured back, “you know I feel the same way about you, right?”

Dean would never cease to be absolutely incredible to him: strong and brave and fierce and loyal and loving all wrapped up in one big ball. Not to mention sexy. Dean was the most attractive person Cas had ever met—always had been, and he doubted that would change any time soon. But Dean felt exactly the same way about him, maybe with different adjectives, but it was all the same in the end. Dean thought he was nothing short of amazing, and for Cas, who had always seen himself as ordinary, that was an astonishing thing.

So, he did his best to live up to Dean’s hype, to be there for him when the older man needed him, to be the best boyfriend—and lover—that he could possibly be. Which was pretty much why he broke off the kissing to tug at Dean’s t-shirt, pushing at it pointedly even as he sat back to strip out of his own. Dean followed suit, and then Cas was kissing along his chest, nipping gently at one nipple to make him hum lowly—he smiled a little to himself at the sound.

Right above said nipple, though, were the two short scars that had been left by the jorogumo so long ago, now smooth and faded but still obvious—at least to Cas—and Cas paused then, leaning his forehead down against them for just a couple of breaths.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked curiously.

“Praying.” At only twenty-three, Dean’s entire body was already littered with scars, a roadmap of pain, and sometimes it struck Cas just how dangerous his job really was. “Praying that you’re safe on your next job. Praying for no more scars.”

“Cas…” Dean tugged at him, drawing him up and into another warm kiss, “I’m okay. You know I’m okay.”

“I know,” Cas agreed against his lips, “but let me pray anyway.”

Dean just smiled gently and kissed him again, hands sliding down his sides—until Cas broke off to begin trailing kisses downward again, along is chest to his ribs, down to his abdomen where he nipped lightly just by Dean’s navel and hummed out a pleased noise when his boyfriend twitched. That was followed up by reaching to tug his boxers down and out of the way—and then ducking his head to lick over the tip of Dean’s already-hard cock.

For his part, Dean just hissed and licked his lips, watching under hooded eyes while Cas sucked the head of his cock into his mouth and began easing downward, sucking gently. But really…

As good as Cas’s mouth felt, this wasn’t what Dean had been going for, here. So, after a couple minutes of enjoying an unhurried blowjob, he reached down to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair and pulled him upward again. Cas blinked slightly but allowed it, climbing back up over him and leaning to kiss him again, tasting of salty precome. “No?”

Dean just chuckled and drifted a hand down his back to squeeze his ass gently. “Not really what I had in mind.”

Cas laughed into the next kiss, but then shifted to the side, climbing off of Dean to get out of his boxers, while Dean took the reprieve to kick his own boxers off the rest of the way, too, before rolling over on top of Cas and leaning in to kiss him again, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed up against the younger man’s. Cas always felt perfect against him, and he knew Cas felt the same way. Like they were made for each other, he had said before.

In his younger days, Dean had never imagined he would end up in a long-term relationship with another man. He had never imagined himself in a long-term relationship with anyone, to be fair, but then Cas had come along and blown all of his naïve preconceptions out of the water.

He had always been bisexual, interested in both women and men, but Dean had never told anyone that, it had been a carefully guarded secret—until Cas. He had taken one look at Cas, way back when they were eighteen years old, and basically fallen in love at first sight, something he had never thought was possible—up until it had happened.

His love for Cas was what got him through his darkest days and his loneliest nights on the road. Their texting and phone calls and video chats were what he lived for—not Hunting, as his dad had tried to teach him. The sex, when they were together, was incredible, the emotional intimacy divine. Marrying Cas was just another step in the natural progression of their relationship and, as Sam had said, a long time coming.

Now Dean just leaned down to kiss Cas again, deeply and slowly, heat and passion and every emotion he was pretty sure he was shit at expressing in words. Cas kissed back the same way, pouring his feelings into it even as he dragged his hands down Dean’s back—then stretched with one arm, reaching to fumble for the bedside table drawer.

When he couldn’t quite reach it, he muttered against Dean’s lips, “Dean, the lubricant.”

“You can just say ‘lube’, you know.” Dean chuckled and kissed him again before easing back and reaching over to nick the lube from the table drawer. There were condoms in the drawer, too, just in case, but they didn’t use them anymore—hadn’t in a long time. They were exclusive and they trusted each other, and that was enough.

When Dean settled back over him again, Cas drew him down into another kiss, then just pushed him gently downward. Dean went more than willingly, kissing along Cas’s collar bone and then down his chest, over his ribs to his abdomen. Once there he sat back on his heels and patted at one of Cas’s hips. “Legs up, Cas.”

“Mm.” Cas made a soft agreeing noise and got himself into position, then let his head fall back, hands twisting in the blankets already while Dean slicked his fingers up and reached to start prepping him. “Dean…”

“I know.” First one finger, then two, leading in to three, they had done this dance more times than they could count, and it never got old, especially when Dean was so good at finding Cas’s prostate, rubbing against it, manipulating it, leaving the younger man gasping for air and pulling at the blankets, moaning breathlessly. Loudly.

Finally, when Dean judged him to be relaxed enough—loose enough—he pulled his hand back and climbed up over Cas, easing between his legs, settling over him and smoothing a hand down one of Cas’s hips before pushing his throbbing cock into his boyfriend’s body.

Cas moaned, long and low, deep in is chest, and kissed back when Dean ducked in, already lifting his legs to wrap around Dean’s hips, holding tight there, urging him to start moving. “Dean…!”

“I’ve got you…” Dean murmured softly, even as he braced his knees and began to roll his hips against Cas’s, burying his face in the crook of Cas’s neck as he fucked into him, slow and deep.

Cas just continued moaning breathlessly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Dean’s waist, hands holding tight at the small of his back, feeling every movement that the older man made under his fingers. He started rocking his own hips to meet Dean’s thrusts, hot and kinetic and perfect, God it felt perfect.

Dean had himself propped up on his forearms, but began kissing along Cas’s shoulder heatedly, nuzzling at his neck and biting here-and-there, just little, gentle nips. Cas’s cock, meanwhile, was trapped between them, rubbing against Dean’s abdomen with every rock of the older man’s hips. It was almost enough to make him come right then—but he held off through sheer willpower alone, not wanting to end things too soon.

“Oh, God, you feel so… so good…!”

When they were together like this—really making love, not just fucking, not just sex—they both got completely lost in each other, in each other’s bodies, in the push-and-pull of their lovemaking, the friction and the passion and how absolutely perfect it felt to be together like they currently were.

Now they sank into another series of long, deep kisses, continuing to move together slowly, unhurried, deep and full-bodied, until they were both so breathless and overstimulated that they simply couldn’t hold on anymore.

Cas came first, mostly because Dean shifted his weight to one arm and slid the opposite hand in between them to jerk Cas off along with their movements. He didn’t last long after that, clutching at Dean’s back and coming with a panted cry, stars behind his closed eyelids.

Dean followed shortly after, just another minute or two, during which Cas continued to sluggishly rock his hips even though he had already come. Then Dean’s thrusts fell out of rhythm, went jerky—and he buried himself deep inside the younger man, coming with a low groan, muffled into Cas’s shoulder.

Then, his arms shaking slightly, Dean lowered himself down over Cas, huffing a pleased noise against Cas’s shoulder before nuzzling into his neck, pressing a kiss there, just warm and affectionate and the slightest bit breathless. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him gently and smiling up at the ceiling, head still back as he caught his breath.

“I saw stars again…” Cas said after a few minutes, once their breathing had evened out. He patted at Dean’s side until the other man grumbled and pulled out of him, then rolled off him, landed on his back and let Cas cuddle into his side. “Mm. Haven’t seen stars like that in… a while.”

“I felt that good, did I?” Dean chuckled, one hand rubbing up and down Cas’s side gently, affectionately.

“It always feels good, having you inside me.” Cas hummed, eyes closed and head resting on Dean’s shoulder. He had one hand up and toying with Dean’s pendant absently. “But I love it when we… do this. Make love. It’s different. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Mm, you have. I feel the same way.” Then a grin and he added, “though it’s hot as hell when you ride me, Cas. Just saying.”

“We’ll do that again next time, then.” Cas’s lips quirked with amusement. He was quiet for a long moment before speaking up again: “you took down the Wall Of Weird. I guess you didn’t need it anymore, with the job being over.”

“Yeah, and it was good to rip at something while Dad screamed at me earlier.” Dean sighed, and then attempted to change the subject: “I’m buying you some posters, by the way. Your walls are way too bare. It’s weird.”

“I’m a weird guy, remember?”

“True, but still.”

“I don’t mind some posters, but should we leave that section of wall blank, though?” Cas asked, smiling to himself as he spoke, “in case you need it for planning a job when you’re here, once you move in?”

Dean made a little surprised noise because he honestly hadn’t thought of that, but it was a good point. But that aside… the thought of actually moving his meager belongings into the apartment, of having a real home to come back to after jobs? Dean found himself smiling, just a small expression of happiness. “Maybe get a bulletin board for that spot, though, I don’t want to ruin the walls.”

“That’s a good idea.” Cas agreed. He pushed up, then, to look down at Dean, his own smile fading a little; “I’m sorry about your Dad. I know you said that’s how he would react, but…” Ducking in, he kissed Dean gently. “I’m still sorry.” Then another smile, though; “I am glad Sam reacted well, though. I told you he would. What did he say?”

Dean smiled up at him, reaching up to run his fingers through Cas’s mussed-up hair gently. “He said he’ll be here; I just have to give him the date and time. So. You’ve got a best man. I’ve got a best man.” His smile edged into a grin, “I guess we need to book the appointment at the courthouse.”

“Yeah,” Cas’s own smile widened hugely, “I guess we do.”

-- --

The earliest appointment they could get at the courthouse was for a month from then, and while that wasn’t ideal… it was what it was. They couldn’t speed up the system any easier than they could stop relying on oxygen. So, they booked it, and then went about notifying Charlie and Sam so they could arrange their travel plans accordingly.

Dean also, reluctantly, called his dad to inform him of the date, only to receive another shouted lecture about responsibility for his trouble. And then his dad proceeded to shove another job at him on the heels of the tongue lashing—and why wasn’t he surprised? Dean cast a glance over toward Cas, who was sitting on the couch talking to Charlie on his laptop. He probably did have the time. Finally, he just agreed to take the job to shut his dad up and quickly took down the case details.

When his dad hung up on him this time Dean mouthed ‘screw you’ toward the phone before dropping it onto the kitchen counter. Then he headed over to flop face-first on the bed and wait for Cas to finish his conversation with Charlie. When Marshmallow hopped up next to him a minute later, Dean just blindly gave the cat a scratch and muttered “hi Marshy” into the pillows. (Okay, so maybe he did like Cas’s cat. A little.)

A half an hour later, give or take, Cas finally said goodbye to Charlie and closed down his laptop, then looked over toward the bed—and smiled when he saw Dean face-down on the mattress, clearly dozing in the sunlight coming in through the window, with Marshmallow curled up against his side. It was downright adorable.

Heading over, Cas gently scooped Marshmallow up and took him over to the chair in the corner. “Sorry, but that’s my spot.” He told the cat as he gave him a gentle pat. Marshmallow just blinked up at him, grumpy face as always, before curling up and laying down on the chair. He was usually pretty easy to get along with.

That taken care of, Cas made his way back over to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge next to Dean, reaching with one hand to thread his fingers through Dean’s hair, stroking gently, affectionately, a little smile on his face the entire time. “Dean… hey…”

After a moment or two Dean began to stir, sighing out a deep breath and leaning into Cas’s touch. He still had his eyes closed, though. “…mm?”

Cas just continued stroking through Dean’s hair, watching him fondly. “You do like my cat after all.”

“Mebbe a little.” Dean admitted in a sleepy mumble, and finally cracked his eyes open to smile up at Cas. He slowly moved, rolling onto his back and tugging Cas’s hand in to kiss against his palm gently. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“It’ll be our secret.” Cas agreed, sounding amused, then, “not to ruin the moment, but what did your Dad say? More of the same?”

“Yeah…” A little, frustrated noise. Cas cupped his hand against Dean’s jaw warmly, thumb rubbing along his cheek, gentle affection. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “He just gave me a self-righteous speech about how irresponsible I’m being. Yelled it. And then…”

Dean trailed off with a sigh and Cas prompted softly, “and then?”

“He gave me another job.” The older man’s green eyes opened again, and he gave Cas an apologetic look; “I’m sorry. I couldn’t really say no. It’s just this ghoul thing in Colorado and then I’ll be right back here, I promise. Two weeks, tops.”

“Counting travel time?” Cas joked—and when Dean gave him a look he sighed and shifted around, climbing onto the bed properly and cuddling up against Dean, wrapping an arm across his chest to hold him close. “I understand, Dean. Hunting is your job. I’m used to having you come and go from my life, so this really isn’t much different. So go, take care of the ghoul… thing. And then come back here. Okay?”

Dean just settled with him, one hand coming up to rub against Cas’s arm. “Feels different this time.”

“Because this is your home now.” Cas reasoned, tipping his head to kiss by Dean’s jaw, “a real home. Not a cheap motel. Somewhere you can come back to time and again, and really… hang your hat. Figuratively speaking. I know you generally don’t wear hats.”

“Not usually, no.” Dean chuckled, squeezing his arm around Cas in a little hug. “The last time I had a real… home. Was when I was four. Right before my Mom died. It’s been almost twenty years, Cas. So… this is…”

“A lot?” Cas asked softly.

“A lot.” Dean agreed. “But it’s good. So yeah, I’ll go take care of the Colorado thing. And then I’ll come back home. To you.”

A gentle smile from Cas and he pressed a little closer, leaning up to kiss Dean warmly. “I like the sound of that.”

The older man returned the kiss with a soft happy hum, deep in his throat. “Yeah, me too.”

-- --

Dean left the next morning after he and Cas had breakfast and showered together—and this time they absolutely made love in the shower, both of them saying goodbye, somewhat, even if it was only going to be for a little while this time.

Then Dean packed up his things—but not all of them, this time, there were certain items that he didn’t need on this Hunt that he left behind. Cas promised to find somewhere to put everything; he’d empty out a couple drawers in the dresser, make room in the closet, clear out some shelves so Dean could feel free to move in properly when he came back. They could even put up posters or artwork that Dean liked, since Cas didn’t particularly care either way (as long as it wasn’t Playboy centerfolds. He drew the line at Playboy centerfolds.) It would be nice. Perfect.

They took possibly too much time saying goodbye at the door before Dean left, but that was nothing new. They stood around, just holding each other and exchanging little, lingering kisses until Cas finally gave Dean a gentle push against his chest. Dean pouted at him, but disappeared into the Tallahassee sun anyway, his duffle bag significantly lighter than usual and his key to the apartment securely in his pocket.

Cas resisted the urge to go to the window and watch Dean drive away for approximately five seconds before crossing the room and doing just that. He didn’t think Dean could see him, but he waved anyway, watching the car pull out and drive off.

Then, with Dean well and truly gone and safety foremost on his mind now, Cas went back to the door and locked both the deadbolt and the chain lock. They would have to see to warding the apartment and getting hex bags into place when Dean got back from his Hunt. Maybe the wards could go under the posters—not that they were likely to have many houseguests to see them, even if they weren’t. Possibly occasionally Charlie or Sam.

Cas spent the rest of the day going through his things, clearing space for Dean for when he came back and packing up some of his more disused clothes and books into a bag to take to the thrift store. Then he put away the few items that Dean had already left behind. That was followed up by digging out his textbooks, notebooks and laptop and settling in for a rather long study session to make up for what he had (admittedly) been lax on while Dean had been there. Supper that night was a TV dinner done in the oven. Marshmallow’s automatic feeder went off at precisely seven o’clock, the same as usual, and the cat practically dove at it, also the same as usual.

The next three days were spent much the same, studying with breaks for food or to call or video chat with Dean—or Charlie. His tinnitus started bothering him over those days, getting louder and more irritating until Cas finally broke down and took some of Dean’s antihistamines—the doctors had said, years ago, that they might help. They didn’t. The antihistamines just made him sleepy and not care as much because of it.

The following Monday he returned to class and work after his “family vacation.” Went back to chatting with Alfie in Graduate Theology and helping out customers at the Gas-n-Sip downtown, ugly blue vest and everything. He went back to his mundane life, missing Dean the entire time but also knowing that they would be together again soon this time, not months down the line like it had been before.

He didn’t tell anyone he was getting married, had already booked a court date for it, because they were trying to keep it as downlow as possible, just to be safe. Only Charlie and Dean’s family knew, and Cas knew they wouldn’t tell anyone. But keeping it a secret didn’t make it any less meaningful. Cas wore a little, content smile on his face everywhere he went for the next few days.

On Thursday he didn’t have to work, but his did have Advanced Folklore class in the afternoon. The tinnitus was driving him crazy again—so loud, chattering in his head incessantly—but he just pushed through it as he got ready for the day and headed out the door, wearing his trench coat as usual. As soon as he hit the front stoop, though, he stopped in his tracks, his entire body freezing up. The noise in his head redoubled—and became clear for the first time, and suddenly he knew exactly what they were—

Angels. Calling him home.

But—

“You hear us now, Castiel.” A familiar voice said, and when he looked around Alfie was standing beside him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Your vessel is finally ready. You’re ready. To return home, to Serve again.”

“Samandriel?”

“You remember me.”

“I remember everything.” Castiel’s eyes darted back and forth, his thoughts racing. Eventually, he asked simply, “you’ve been watching over me all this time?”

“For five years at the university, in this Vessel, yes.” Samandriel agreed, “since it was felt you were almost ready. I was sent to bring you home again, Castiel.”

Another pause, and then, softly, “what about Dean?”

Samandriel’s expression turned sympathetic, maybe a touch sad. “He will survive without you. You can keep an eye on him from Heaven.”

“But—"

“Are you questioning Heaven’s orders, Castiel?”

Castiel hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Dean, of course he didn’t, but Angel Radio was blaring in his head and now he remembered who he was—what he was. He was an angel of the Lord, and he had a mission to return to. One he had been absent from for nearly two decades. Finally, he cast one last look back at the apartment door, and then he shook his head. “No, I’m not questioning anything.”

“Alright then.”

Samandriel patted his shoulder—and they were both gone in a rustle of feathers.

Inside the apartment, Marshmallow’s automatic feeder went off, dispensing a meal’s worth of food. There was enough in it to last for a while. And one of the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling slipped loose, fell and landed softly in the mess of bedcovers Cas had left behind. It wouldn’t be discovered there for nearly a week.

THE END

[poledancingdinos]

You've Got Me Hooked - Post Epilogue Bonus Scene

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans, Light Angst, Family Drama

Catch up: Series Masterlist

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A/N: My friend convinced me to post this early because we both have no self-control.

If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know! If your name is crossed out, I can’t tag you for some reason.

Masterlist

Riley

I’ve only been able to lightly dose for the past few hours, what with the nurses coming in to check on me or to make sure our baby boy is feeding properly and not losing weight for any reason. Then there’s the fact that we are in an unknown hospital six states away from our home. I doubt Sy will ever stop saying “I told you so” for that one but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity at the contract this firm is offering me.

I love running RD’s for Don because it also gives me the chance to pick up some freelance work now and then. I just wanted to get a feel for this company before signing on for a twelve month contract and I knew I wouldn’t want to travel once the baby was born. 

It’s hard to say exactly what it was that woke me up this time but what pulls my eyes open is the sound of a familiar voice out in the hall. The door is propped open, which Sy has been doing whenever he has to leave me alone in the room. It’s not really necessary since I have a call button for a nurse and it’s not like anyone but the other new mothers and fathers in the ward would hear me if I shouted for help but it makes him feel better so I don’t say any of those thoughts out loud.

“I need to call the office and let them know to expedite the paperwork. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes?”

“Yeah, alright.”

A man in a suit speed walks past the door and down the hallway that leads to the elevator. The other man apparently wasn’t in as much of a hurry to leave the building because it takes a few more seconds before he appears in the doorframe.

Like his companion, he’s wearing a fancy designer suit. His sandy blonde hair is neatly styled but one rebellious lock hangs down over his forehead as he reads over the papers in a manila folder.

He looks older than when I last saw him, although that’s to be expected when you let five years go by between visits. As I stare at his left profile I begin to wonder what his life has become. There’s no sign of a wedding ring and for him to be dressed as he is must mean that he has fulfilled his destiny and become a lawyer.

My thoughts are interrupted when the tiny human by my side wakes with an ear-splitting cry. Immediately, I reach out and take him in my arms, laying him on my chest. I rock him as I whisper what I hope are soothing words and it’s not long before he quiets down.

The next time I look out the door I find chocolate brown eyes staring back at me in shock. The young man opens his mouth as if to speak but no words leave his lips so he shuts it again. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and slowly, he walks through the door. He stops about two steps into the room, staying a safe distance from me and the infant cradled protectively in my arms.

“Is my baby sister really a mother?”

I bristle at his choice of words. “I pushed an eight pound Syverson baby out of my vagina, I’d say that qualifies me for the title.”

Arthur taps the manila folder on his open palm a few times then tucks it under his arm in favor of shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You have every right to be mad at me. I’m really sorry about what happened. I never had a chance to explain.”

I don’t think mad is the right word. Mad implies that I resent being cut off or that I blame him for it happening. He’d already been away from home for four years by the time I got kicked out after high school. It’s not like he could have done anything to help or to change our parents’ mind.

We led separate lives while he was in law school and I was perfectly fine with that. We saw each other once a year at Thanksgiving and that was enough. What hurt was that he told my parents about the porn. That’s what I was. Hurt.

“There’s nothing to explain. You told on me and you joined them in pretending I never existed. Thanks to you the McKenzie name remains unblemished.”

“Riley, please believe me… I told them about the OF because I thought it would make them give in and send you some money. I thought the threat of some bad press would force their hand but I was wrong. By the time I found out what they had done, you’d changed your number and you’d erased any trace of Riley McKenzie from social media. I didn’t know how to find you and I thought that meant you didn’t want to be found.”

No, I didn’t want to be found. I didn’t want to risk people from the strip club finding my real accounts so I deleted them all. I started from scratch as Razzy and even now, I haven’t really gone back.

“Ri? What’s wrong, why are you cryin’?”

Sy’s deep voice startles me out of my thoughts. He briefly stops in the doorway, studying the room then side steps Arthur to come stand by the bed. He places himself between me and the stranger invading his space like the loyal protector he is.

I can’t imagine what this must look like to him. First there’s a man in an important looking suit standing by the doorway of the room and then there’s me — crying as I clutch our son in my arms. Whatever he’s thinking, he immediately goes into Captain mode.

“What’s goin’ on?” he all but barks at my brother.

“Sy?” I wrap a hand around his bicep, partly to get his attention, partly in the hopes of holding him back if he decides to lash out before he gets the full story. He looks at me over his shoulder, keeping his body towards Arthur. “This is my brother. Arthur, this is my husband, Sy.”

Both men give a small nod of acknowledgment but the tension in the room stays high. I told Sy the full story of what happened between me and my parents and the role Arthur played in that. I guess I should say the role I thought he had played. Sy was understandably very angry. He might have also said he would break his nose if he ever happened to see him. At least we’ll be in hospital if something happens.

“How did he know we were here?”

“I didn’t,” my brother explains. “It’s a coincidence really. We’re waiting on a judge to grant the state custody of a newborn down the hall.”

That does absolutely nothing to alleviate the tension in Sy’s shoulders.

“Barely a few days old and you’re already tryin’ to tear a family apart?”

My brother stands up taller, not even flinching at the tone of my husband’s voice. It’s a not so subtle dig but Arthur doesn’t seem to realize that it was meant to be personal.

“She’s a druggie who told a judge in open court that if they took custody of her oldest child she would just make a new one. I don’t know about you but I’d rather give that kid a chance at adoption and a good life rather than leaving them with a mother who thinks of children like they’re a goldfish in a petstore.”

Damn. Credit where credit is due, Arthur has a lot of balls to stand up to Sy like that. He looks at his watch and mumbles a curse.

“Can I see you again once you get settled at home?” I’ve never seen Arthur like this. He looks deeply upset by the whole situation.

“We umm… we actually live near Atlanta. I was only here for work but our son seems to have had other ideas. He’s three weeks early.”

Arthur’s eyes go comedically wide. “Three weeks early and he was eight pounds?” Neither one of us was by any means a big baby. Even now he’s only around five foot ten himself which is considered tall in our family.

“Yeah, that’s all this guy’s fault.” I poke Sy in the arm and he gives me one of his signature smirks though his eyes are all soft, looking at me with nothing but fondness.

Arthur’s phone dings three times in quick succession, causing him to sigh. He ignores it for the moment, instead reaching inside his jacket and producing a business card. He walks up to Sy, extending his hand. It takes him a second but Sy eventually shakes it.

“I’m glad Riley has someone looking out for her. For the both of them.” Arthur sets his business card down on the table by the bed and directs his next words to me. “If I can ever help you, in any way, please call me,” he says, tapping his finger on the card for emphasis.

“I will,” I tell him honestly.

Sy follows Arthur to the door, shutting it behind him. The boy in my arms starts to wiggle and fuss again so I push my top aside to allow him to latch on to my breast. We’re going to have to name him eventually. We’ve discussed a few options but we haven’t settled on anything yet. None of the names we considered before his birth seem appropriate now that he’s here.

Sy sits on the edge of the bed beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“Is there anything I need to know ‘bout what happened before I got here?”

“He said he was sorry about what happened with my parents. That he’d only meant to help.”

Sy caresses the back of our son’s hand going completely still when the little guy moves it away in favor of wrapping his whole fist around one of Sy’s fingers.

“It’s your call, Mama. All I’m gonna say is if this guy is half as bad as me, havin' a hot-shot Manhattan lawyer on speed dial might not be a bad idea.”

I burst out laughing, leaning my head on Sy’s chest. If this were a cartoon, Sy and I would both have little red beating hearts where our eyes are supposed to be. Baby Boy falls asleep right there on my chest and Sy takes him from me, gently trying to coax a burp out of him before putting him back down to sleep.

“What do you think of Parker?” Sy suggests, walking around the room in small circles as Baby Boy sleeps on his shoulder.

“I was thinking Maddox but I like yours better.” I get as comfortable as I can, feeling the alluring pull of sleep myself. 

“Parker Maddox Syverson,” he repeats, testing out the name. “Definitely gonna be a troublemaker.”

Sy kisses my forehead and I allow myself to close my eyes while Parker is placed in his crib with so much care I think my heart might burst from all the love I have for him and Sy.

“Even if he is,” my sentence is interrupted by a lengthy yawn, “he’ll be just fine as long as he has you as a dad.”

Sy pulls the chair closer, folding his forearms on the bed and laying his head over them. I begin to play with his hair, scratching slow circles over his scalp. I love his curls. He occasionally keeps his hair longer than he prefers just so I get to play with it. I hope Parker gets his Daddy’s curls. The motion feels peaceful and meditative, aided by the low appreciative rumble coming from my husband’s chest.

“I love you, Sy. Thank you for making this my life.”

He shifts just enough to reach my free hand, intertwining our fingers together. “Back atcha, Mama.”

[sflow-er]

🎁 💛 🎨 for the writers asks if you’re still doing them.

(If you’ve already answered any of these, replace with one you were hoping someone would ask!)

Hi! Yeah, I'm still doing them!

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Well...sure! Here's an angsty snippet from the next chapter of my WIP, The real deal. I was actually hoping to get the chapter out this week, but I've been kind of swamped with other stuff, so I guess any readers hoping for an update may appreciate this.

[Context: Henry has just joined the Society. Walter is not happy about it.]

Walter has to stop there to quell the desperation that has not so much crept as it has rushed into his voice. He screws his eyes shut and hugs himself for comfort, trying to make it look like he’s just crossing his arms in frustration. The true meaning of the gesture isn’t lost on Henry, who soon reaches out to put his hand on Walter’s upper arm. “Hey. Are you okay?” Walter opens his mouth to say yes. What comes out is, “No. I’m really not.” Henry rubs Walter’s arm through the sleeve and hesitates a little before asking, “Would you like a hug?” “I’m not…in a hugging kind of place right now.”

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

Man, this is a tough one! There's always more to learn, and also so many things I have "learned" but not really taken to heart (such as "use a placeholder when you get stuck" haha).

I'd say maybe 'think of your readers as people, not numbers'. The writing itself has to be for me, because the worth of the story or my worth as a writer should not be determined by what anyone else makes of my writing. But I still think it's okay to acknowledge that I wouldn't be posting the stories anywhere if I didn't want to connect with people through them. The important part is not to think about it in terms of hits or even the number of kudos or comments, because that just leads to all kinds of self-doubt if the fic/chapter doesn't reach that many people (I am a niche writer in a small fandom, after all). I find it much more useful and joyful to think about it in terms of the actual human beings on the other side of the screen who have taken an interest in the story and let me share it with them.

🎨 - I already answered this one here. But since you suggested picking another one, let's do this (I tried to pick one of the yellow ones to at least match the colour):

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

I write what I want to read, so I do reread my fics every now and then. Some more than others, but a couple of months ago I actually reread one that I had not revisited in ages, and I'm glad I did because it was better than I remembered.

Sometimes I reread for no particular reason, other times after a nice comment on an older fic. Or when I need to check something - just the other day, I went to check a minor detail in my magnum opus for my WIP (which is a prequel), and I ended up rereading the last five chapters... Oops.

(Sadly, rereading does often reveal typos or other little errors and fixing those does take me out of the story a bit, but I still enjoy it!)

Thank you again, @gulliblelemon! These were fun 💜

[Ask list for reference]

[sapphicscholar]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag, @lilolilyr!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

135 fics total!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

2,436,430 words (jfc hahah)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ever? Listing them in vague order of when I started writing for them: Supergirl, Wynonna Earp, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Grace and Frankie, This Way Up, Once Upon a Time, Madre Solo hay Dos (just on Tumblr), Abbott Elementary, Hacks, and Julia

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

ALL of them are Supergirl from back in the early-ish days of the show when it was a pretty massive (by femslash standards, I suppose) and very active fandom! It's actually so interesting seeing how absolutely nothing I've written in more than half a decade even shows up, since I've largely switched to smaller fandoms since then.

But the top 5 fics by kudos are:

Stronger Together, a collection of one-shots for various Supergirl ships (with a few gen fics mixed in), which has nearly 5k kudos (WILD to me as someone now in a fandom with maybe 25 people total haha)

Welcome to the Gayborhood, my first ever fic, a looong Sanvers and Supercorp professor AU that still keeps the alien/supernatural elements of canon

6,500 miles away...but getting closer, a Sanvers epistolary fic that my wife and I actually co-wrote and posted 1 letter/email per day every day for many months

Noise Complaint, a Sanvers next-door neighbor AU that, hilariously, given its placement in the top 5 here, is what catalyzed a series of events that led to me very much leaving the fandom (and fandom writ large for nearly a year)

Supercat Sanvers 2020, a Sanvers and Supercat political AU that was maybe one of the last long-form works I wrote before moving out of DC!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I really try to! Sometimes if it's from a person I know well, I end up responding via DMs, esp if there are questions about what comes next, plotting elements, etc., that I don't necessary want everyone to see while the fic is still being posted, but mostly I try to respond on AO3. I've gotten a bit worse in the past few years just because I'll manage to eke out a bit of time to write, which puts me behind on my work, and then I don't leave myself time to respond, and by the time I DO have time, it feels awkwardly late to do so. But even if I don't respond, I absolutely love/cherish/adore/etc. every single kind comment I've ever been given <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Forgoten, but not Gone - a Sanvers amnesia AU set post-breakup that's heavy on the angst with a rather ambiguous ending. I got talked into writing a part 2 that resolves the angst haha, but taken on it's own it's definitely my angstiest ending!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Huh idk! Most of my fics end on fairly happy, if a bit open, endings. I'm not a big fan of having all the loose ends tied up, and I realllyyyy don't do the marriage/2 kids/white picket fence epilogue, so I guess maybe the political AU has to be up there because it actually envisions a world where a queer woman wins the presidency on a progressive platform, and that feels rather utopian 🙃

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not in a while, though I used to back in the days, like super vitriolic shit (big fandoms with too-big emotions, man... which has really kept me away maybe forever from those kinds of fandoms!)

9. Do you write smut?

Haha very much so. I've written and posted before about why, but I really believe there's so much interesting character work and exploration that can be done by exploring characters' pleasures, their desires (both thwarted and realized), their fantasies, etc. Obviously smut isn't the only way to do this, but fanfic feels like one of the few venues where it's a real possibility!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nah, not really. I've written a handful of bring characters x and y into the universe of another show fics, but that feels mostly different. Every so often I'll borrow vague character outlines for tertiary characters in other fics just to see if folks recognize them (had Grace Hanson as a grumpy background character in a Sanvers fic set at PT for instance hah)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Once or twice, but we got them taken down

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, one of my SG fics was translated into Russian! I'm not sure if it's still up (tbh I can't recall which one; it's been a long time!) I've also had a couple podfics now made of my fics, one of which I still need to go listen to when I get the time!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah! The long-form Sanvers epistolary fic my wife and I co-wrote together, and a group of Supercat authors got together and did a delightfully chaotic round robin, each writing one sentence, then setting a timer for the next person to write the next sentence, etc., until we had Intergalactic Standard Cuddling

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh man, I really don't know that I have a favorite! I really appreciate what various ships can offer me at different times - there are certain themes that make sense to explore with one pairing but not at all with another, or certain AUs that work in one fandom but not really in another. Basically, if a show is giving me multiple female characters who interact in canon in ways that go beyond existing near each other, I'm intrigued, and if these characters actually get depth and complexity, I'm probably in! There are, however, some ships that I might not end up feeling fannish/creative about even though I love them as ships (I talked a lot to @trying-to-get-somewhere-real about this recently, actually!), so it's hard to name a favorite when the metrics get all wonky!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

I don't want to say never, but I have a Cat-centric fic that'll end on Supercat that just has a lot of angst that coincided with a period of unexpected loss and grief in my own life in ways that have made it really hard to get back into even now (it just feels so...enmeshed with that moment, even though the timing was utterly coincidental)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do a good job with dialogue and getting characters' voices down - I'm really into the character side of things (which is also what gets me invested fannishly in shows! I want a show that cares about developing their characters first and foremost vs. a show where plot takes priority)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Certain kinds of action scenes haha - also I tire easily of writing things that feel repetitive to things I've done/written before (this was more of an issue when I took prompts)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Largely, this isn't something I've had to deal with much outside of maybe a few phrases and sentences from multilingual characters. I've talked before about how it was actually the language/translation barrier that kept me from writing for Madre Solo hay Dos. I don't speak Spanish, and getting a show entirely via the Netflix-provided translations meant 1) I was fairly certain there were some word choice/dialect peculiarities I was missing, and 2) I couldn't catch the rhythms of their speech, the cadence of their voices at least in ways that corresponded to the specific words. For me, voice matters so much, and it really felt like a barrier to not have access to the source language because I felt like I couldn't do these two women justice!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supergirl

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Oh I've answered this elsewhere with 2-3 works, and tbh I don't think it's changed since then! I'm actually far more interested in others' favorite fics of mine because it's so interesting to think about the question of *what* sticks with a person from yours (it's often so idiosyncratic!!)

I'm getting to this pretty late, so I won't tag anyone, assuming many people already have been, but if ya see this and want to participate, feel free to give me a tag! I always love seeing people talk about their own writing :)

[nopeferatu]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤



OOF...well, since most of my favorite pieces of writing are eternal wips, I guess I'll just post the snippets here, haha. Please bear in mind that nearly all of them are over a year old, and none of them are very good—I do draw more than I write, after all. But I do dabble here and there and so yeah! This is some of that!

5. Untitled WIP

This is suuuper old, one of the first things I wrote after watching the movie again in early 2022 and falling deep down the rabbit hole. It's actually not that great and is pretty sad in it's entirety, so I tried to grab the better chunk, haha. Try, if you can, to mind the first person pov—I know better now.

It's been years and I still really miss you, Jack. All I known in life is the feeling a missing you. You think I'd get used to the feeling, what with all them months and miles between us in the before times, but this missing you runs so much deeper than these tired bones have ever known before.

Yanno how you said your Mama believed in the Pentecost? She ever tell you 'bout that Bible story, how God made Adam and Eve? It goes like this—the Lord took a big pile a sand and breathed into it to make Adam, then he took Adam's rib and from it, went on to make Eve.

Was thinking on it the other day and figured, what if that's how God made the two a us? What if he breathed life into a pile a horse shit, then when I came up, took my rib, put it in a rodeo fuck up and sent the two a us out to the world, pair a deuces trying to fnd their way? I always thought maybe this hurt was emptiness, where my heart went missing after you were gone 'cause you'd taken it like you took my shirt. Now I'm thinking, what if the pain's from that ol' rib coming back after you died to settle in where it don't belong no more? Tryna rearrange all my insides that gone without for so long, and my body's rejecting it like a horse rejecting rider 'cause it knows it don't belong to me no more, never did, neither.

Then again, maybe it's just busted up in there. Maybe it has been since the summer a '63, and I just ain't taken notice 'til you went on and met your maker.

Maybe this ol' heart's just broken.

Know I shouldn't be asking shit from you considering all the ways I took and didn't give you nothing but hurts in return, but I’m asking as a man who never asked for nothing from you, neither—you wait for me, Jack Twist, just a little longer. Used to say that I couldn't wait to see you again, but you helped give me a second shot, try and fix up what I didn’t think I could hardly stand no more. Now I know I can bid my time here a while longer, being a daddy and granddaddy, living out some a the life that you didn't get to have.

So you wait for me… even if it's just so I can tell you how God damn sorry I am for it all.

I love ya, little darlin'. Reckon I always have, reckon I always will. You enjoy them whiskey rivers, but make sure to save the last round for me.

4. Want

This snippet is also super old, and once again, forgive me for the first person pov. Ik a lot of ppl don't typically like it in fiction and I've also kind of grown unfond of it. I was young! I was dumb! I've learned I've learned I've learned!!!

As I'm crying and coughing up the blood from my lungs into my mouth, the second thought comes to mind: just how bad I want for Ennis to come find me, come and save me from what I know's coming next. But he weren't there. Never was, never would be. The tears came down harder 'cause a that one.

The very last impossible thing I wanted was something I dreamed of for a long time. Even though most everything I craved was outta reach, I always thought I could get it, somehow, some way if I tried hard enough. But from the very start I'd known this want was impossible, and yet sometimes I wanted it more than I wanted life itself.

Dying alone on the side a that hot Texas highway, all I wanted was to be nineteen again, close enough to touch the Heavens on Brokeback Mountain.

I thought I could hear Ennis hollering for me back at camp, and I smiled. I'm comin', cowboy.

Then I closed my eyes, and would never want for nothing again.

3. Untitled WIP

I really hope to finish this one, someday. I really like playing around with the other potential bad end of BBM, where Jack ditches Ennis for Randall after May 1983 because his hope and patience has run dry.

"Name's Randall. Educated type of fella, went to college, got him a job as foreman of the ranch down a ways from my place." Jack takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "Tells me he loves me more times 'n even Lureen's said it," he stays quiet a moment, kicks at the loose pebbles on the ground. "Tell you what—feels good to hear it, too. Man's gotta know he's loved ever now 'n' again, Ennis."

Ennis thinks of cold mountain nights filled with the bleating of sheep and illegal elk, of dozens of jobs taken and abandoned, of divorce; thinks of four years of missing and bruising kisses, of sixteen years of hands worshiping at the temple of a bull rider's broken body, and of every cold night in between filled with dreams about bright blue eyes and the warmth of a perfect smile. He thinks of the last twenty years he spent dropping everything at the siren call of a postcard, and for the first time in his life Ennis thinks about love; wonders what it might be, if not that.

But Ennis doesn't say so, just clenches his trembling fist even tighter into itself.

2. Five Boys that Jack Twist Had Liked (and One More Whom He Had Loved)

This one is another old one that I reaally hope to finish one day. I have a about 3 1/2 of the 6 part written, I just...need to find the gumption to get through the rest.

4. Andrew Peterson

Andrew had been one of his daddy's ranch hands, a boy who would've been two grades above him if Jack hadn't dropped out of high school his sophomore year. He had just graduated, was one of the lucky few whose parents didn't value his contribution to the family finances over his education, and was hired on for the summer in the hopes of making a little cash before heading out of their dead-end town and into the real world. It was a plan that Jack, at sixteen, had already been well acquainted with.

It wasn't often that the Twist Ranch hired hands around his age to help out around the place, and Jack, always the friendly type and more than just a little lonely, had been eager to make a new acquaintance. Andrew hadn't seemed to mind when Jack started taking his chores alongside him, appearing glad for the company, himself. They shared easy smiles and private jokes, becoming such good friends in such a short time that his Mama would tease about one of them losing their very shadow if the other wasn't around.

Just like with Stephen before him, Jack had been drawn to Andrew like a moth to a flame. He never understood what there was in a boy that drew his eye to them in a way that none of the fillies who flirted around with him ever did, until Andrew, after a tiring day mending the old fence posts that corralled the bulls in and about two months worth of dropping frustrated gestures and signals, had said, "Fuck it," pulled Jack out to his Daddy's feed barn and into a scalding kiss that left Jack weak in the knees.

Andrew hadn't been his first kiss—that honor had gone to lil' Miss Sharon King back in the first grade. Seeing as how Jack was well regarded amongst the ladies as a 'pretty boy', there'd been plenty of kisses after that, too. Andrew had, however, been the first kiss that finally had him understanding what all the fuss was about.

As if to slide it on home, later that summer he even made sure to be Jack's first fuck, rounding out on all the bases that left Jack with a whirlwind of questions about himself and even more feelings bursting inside than his young heart ever thought it could handle.

"Been savin' to go to school in Denver," Andrew started, breaking the silence one night out in the feed barn. They sat passing a cigarette and some of his daddy's stolen whiskey between them, riding out the residual high of a midnight roll in the literal hay. It had been dark out, and with only the full moon and the hot red cherry at the end of the cigarette bathing them in their glow, the two were effectively shielded from the scathing eyes of the light. "'m leavin' in a few months, splittin' before fall comes." His gaze was fixed somewhere on the black horizon, watching something that went unseen to Jack.

Jack felt his stomach sink like the stones he used to skip in the creek way out past his house.

"Denver? Ain't that a might bit far for some schoolin'?" He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding choked and strange. Instead, he looked down into the whiskey bottle in his hand and took a swig from it, willing its sweet burn to help him maintain an air of indifference. "What they got down there, anyway?"

Truth be told he didn't blame Andrew for wanting to go—he had been itching to leave Lightning Flat in the rearview, himself. Still, he was unsure that he wanted the conversation to continue. He didn't want to think about his new companion leaving so soon after this something between them had begun. Nevertheless, curiosity—slightly embittered—took hold and ultimately won out.

Andrew took a long drag out of the cigarette. Its hot cherry burned a bright, fiery red before dulling once more to an ashy gleam. "A chance for fellas like us," he finally breathed. The smoky tendrils made their escape past his lips, taking his words with them.

"Oh," Jack muttered after a beat of silence. He wasn't quite sure he understood, nor wanted to understand, what Andrew was getting at, but tried hard not to let his disappointment seep out into his tone regardless.

It hadn't worked. In a moment, Andrew smashed the lit butt out against the wall, leaving them cloaked in darkness once more before leaning over to kiss him sweetly. It had knocked the breath out of Jack, just like their kisses were wont to do.

"Maybe someday you can come pay me a visit. I dunno, it might just be a sweet life down there, yanno?" Andrew's smile, only barely visible under the glow of the full moon above, was easy and inviting.

For once all motormouth Jack could do was smile back before eager hands, warm like the end of the cigarette and the whiskey settled deep in his belly, were on him again, ready to reignite the fire that set Jack aglow.

That summer, Andrew had pressed red-hot marks into his flesh that would soon fade on the outside but sear into Jack's soul for a lifetime, forever branding him as the different sort of boy he had been both warned about and accused of being in the entirety of his short life.

Looking back, he realized he'd known what Andrew had meant all along. At sixteen years old Jack knew what queer was, and finally understood, with no room for doubt in his mind, that it was him. He reckoned that weren't nobody's business but his own, though.

After that summer, Jack never did see Andrew again.

Twenty-four years later, tucked cozy warm into his Colorado bed, Andrew would awake from a dream about blue eyes and wonder, not for the first time, what had ever happened to the kid who'd been his that one short summer before making the move that forever changed his life. Looking beside himself, into the handsome face that had laid dreaming beside him every night the past fifteen years, Andrew would smile and hope that, wherever Jack Twist was in the world, he had gotten out of Wyoming and been lucky enough to make his own bit of bliss out of the hard hand he'd been dealt.

1. Clipped

Summary: Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man—with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick—was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Aaand here's a fic I've actually posted! Lol! Fun fact: this was actually the very first fic I wrote following watching bbm again in January 2022, and it remains like. The only thing I'm actually super duper proud of. It isn't even that good, but I'm just proud that I actually finished something for once lol.

Thanks for the ask, @alifeasvivid! :D

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

I'm so intrigued by JRPG-style from the WIP game!!! Would love to know more about it

(unrelated to the WIP game but: I really enjoyed reading both 'engrave the silhouette of you' and 'thus, friends absent speak' after seeing them linked on the WIP game post! Good epistolary tomarry fics hold my heart, and amnesia + a whole relationship with your fated nemesis that you're left to grapple with (also, losing a WHOLE decade!) is such a fantastic idea that you've really breathed life into. Thank you for writing and posting, both have gone straight to my bookmarks 👀).

Oh goodness, thank you so much @known-concepts!! I'm so glad you enjoyed those two fics ヽ(；▽；)ノ

So. JRPG-style is me mashing my love for late 90s and 00s JRPGS (especially the Tales of series) with the HP universe. I've been working on plotting it out for a couple months now and finally figured out a couple of the beats that were holding me up last week, so I'm hoping to make some progress on writing this one soon because I want to write this so badly.

Harry is the Chosen One, whose task is to reinforce the seals across the land keeping Voldemort contained. Except Dumbledore, who was involved with the last pilgrimage several decades ago, has found a way to destroy Voldemort once and for all -- by releasing him.

Featuring quirky adventures, HP plot points, more worldbuilding than I've ever done before, and a hefty dose of tomarrymort for flavour, and that's where this one is heading. Probably not the most original idea, but I'm gonna have fun with it!

Thank you for asking! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Edit: Since I don't have a snippet of JRPG-style to post yet, here's a snippet from the next chapter of "engrave the silhouette of you":

Now that he’s speaking with Voldemort, and he’s seen how the man looks at him and reacts to him, it is impossible to deny how deeply Voldemort feels for him. And it’s a very Voldemort concept of love: obsessive, heavy, portentous – consuming. It should be stifling, but to Harry it feels like warmth and devotion. He’s been alone and unloved for so long, it makes a grim kind of sense that he’d gravitate towards someone whose affection for him is so undeniable. There is one thing Harry has wanted for as long as he can remember. More than food, more than comfort, Harry wished for someone to love him. Dumbledore told him that his mother’s love for him was so great he survived the killing curse, but Harry’s only memory of her is her dying moments, and being told someone loves you is rather cold comfort. The magical world’s love for him due to Voldemort’s defeat has always been more of an oppressive burden than something from which to draw strength. But Voldemort loves him. To an almost unhealthy degree, it seems.

And here's a snippet I may or may not use in the fic, but it's amusing and I want to share:

Voldemort pulls back from the kiss, and Harry's so dazed it takes a good five seconds for him to understand what's happened and try to correct it. The other man is not co-operating. “Harry, you need to tell me to stop,” he pants. “What? Why would I do that? That’s a terrible idea–” “Harry–” Voldemort’s voice is decidedly strained, breaking on Harry’s name. “Get back here,” Harry demands, trying to pull the other man’s face back to his. “We shouldn’t–” “Since when do you care about ‘shouldn’t?’” He’s so focused on getting back to kissing that his mouth runs away with him. “You’ve had a lot of awful ideas, and that’s one of them, who lets you run a country–” Voldemort drops his head to Harry’s shoulder, and he starts to shake. Harry’s suddenly concerned he broke the other man. Surely he hasn’t made Voldemort cry…? Ah, no, Voldemort is laughing. Probably at him.

[infiniteeight8]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Tagged by @sweaterkittensahoy

I have two AO3 accounts (infiniteeight and crimsonquills) because I switched pseuds due to a troll in a fandom like, 10 or 15 years ago. So for AO3 stats questions, first number is infiniteeight, second number is crimsonquills, total in parentheses. The crimsonquills number is misleading, though--only about half my works written under that pseud are uploaded.

How many works do you have on AO3? 426 + 235 (661)

What's your total AO3 word count? 584,163 + 721,769 (1,305,932)

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, IronStrange (MCU), Steter (Teen Wolf), and LazyTown. I have a lot of formerly serious fandoms, and I've dabbled in even more. There are 21 listed on infiniteeight and 28 on crimsonquills, to give you an idea, and that's not a complete list.

Top Five Fics by Kudos

For infiniteeight AO3 handle (all of these are Clint/Coulson, which makes sense, since it's the biggest fandom I've been in for the past 12 years):

Trump Card 

Relief 

Made Omega 

A House is Not a Home 

Five People Who Flinched From Phil and the One Person Who Never Did

For my crimsonquills AO3 handle (this is a little misleading--I have some very popular stories on this handle that aren't on AO3, though I keep meaning to upload them):

Full Body Workout (Steve/Tony, comic Avengers)

A Meeting of Minds (Steve/Tony, comic Avengers)

Beneath the Armor  (Steve/Tony, comic Avengers)

A Light To Guide You (Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon, The Phantom Menace)

Doubts  (Steve/Tony, comic Avengers)

Good grief, only now have I realized that my most popular Man from UNCLE fic (The Mirror, Mirror Affair) is not on AO3! I was certain it was. It looks like *none* of my MFU fics are on AO3. Oops? I really have to fix that...

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I went through a period where I was very sporadic about it, but now I reply to them all. I'm even going through and answering old comments that have been there, unanswered, for years. The responses I've gotten from folks receiving a reply anywhere from a few months to 8 years later have been lovely. :D

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely no heartbeat detected (IronStrange, true Drabble). I don't normally write much angst, and when I do, it's always with a happy ending. But that one was a prompt.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't think I can actually pick one? Almost all of my fics have happy endings!

Do you get hate on fics?

Nope. Which surprises me, honestly, because I've written plenty of tropes that other people get hate for all the time.

Do you write smut?

Yes! In fact, before I started writing the daily ficlets, I was primarily known as a smut writer. Almost everything I wrote was smutty. I find it kid of amusing that the drabbles have changed that.

Craziest Crossover?

Has to be the Band of Brothers/Terminator crossover. It's only posted on my old livejournal, but I'll upload it to AO3 one day and just watch people goggle at it. LOL.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. The closest that I know of is someone who copied the entire first chapter (or couple of chapters?) of one of my more popular fics and then took it in a totally different direction. I contacted them and they were apologetic--the meant to go back and rewrite the beginning once they were done with their version, but they never finished it. They put a note and an inspired by tag on it after I contacted them, and that was fine with me.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Many times! Translations are always welcome.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yup! A couple times, although it's not something I do regularly.

All time favorite ship?

Hmmm. Difficult question. Longest lasting active ship is Steter, but all time favorite? I think it might be Marcus Cole/Neroon (Babylon 5).

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This is a weird question for me, because I don't really work on more than one thing at a time, except for brief pauses on epic fics to knock out something short. And if I start to lose steam on a story I'm writing, there's not really a "doubt" phase. I either believe I will finish it, or it gets trunked and I don't consider it a WIP anymore, because it is no longer "in progress", it's just abandoned.

What are your writing strengths?

Characterization! I've had many compliments in this area.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Visual description, definitely.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Peppering in other language words to remind me of a character's background and for flavour is useful, but writing entire sentences in another language knock me right out of the story. If I have to check a footnote or hover text to know what they're saying, I instantly lose immersion.

Other language text that you can figure out from context is better than footnotes, but in my experience people rarely do it well.

First fandom you wrote in?

Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was on paper (one of those yellow note pads), but I never shared it with anyone. First fandom I actually posted in might have been Star Trek: Voyager? Or possibly Stargate: SG1. I'm not actually sure which came first. I have the stories (I think), but they aren't dated.

Favorite fic you've written?

Oh, gosh, I'm not sure. Maybe Patterns (Marcus/Neroon)? I've written better stories and more popular ones, but I have a soft spot for that one.

Tags (very optional): @airas-story. Um, anyone else? I am bad at remembering people.

[thewolvesof1998]

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Okay the first Chapter is posted!! (1/3 Chapter, 5.6K, E) 

Eddie isn’t mopping. He’s having a drink at his local bar, by himself that’s all. He’s not thinking about the divorce papers sitting in his bedside drawer where Christopher won’t find them. He sighs, downing the last of his whiskey. He’s waving down the bartender, signally for another when a hand comes down on his shoulder.

A familiar voice says, “Eddie Diaz is that you?”

Eddie turns to take in Josh, one of his best friends from high school whom he hasn’t seen since before he deployed the first time. He looked good, he’d lost most of his youth softness, and a full beard where he’d only been able to grow whiskers before.

“Josh? Man, it’s been so long” Eddie says, pulling him into a one-handed hug, something he wouldn’t have done if wasn’t already on his third drink of the night.

Josh laughs, “Yeah, didn’t know you were back in El Paso”

Eddie grimaces, guilt sitting heavy in his stomach, he hadn’t reached out to any of his friends from high school after returning, he hadn’t wanted them to see how much his life had fallen apart. The bartender places his drink down in front of him and he takes a drag for courage.

“I’ve been back about six months now, I’d meant to reach out but…”

“It’s okay man, life gets in the way,” Josh shrugs, “How’s Shannon? You guys have a kid right?” Josh sits down on the stool next to him and Eddie tries not to hate Josh for bringing up exactly what he’d been trying to forget.

“Yeah Christopher, he’s five now, but uh me and Shannon aren’t-she left” Eddie tries for nonchalance but from the pitying look on Josh’s face he doesn’t succeed.

“I’m sorry man”

“Nah it's fine, it’s been-ah six months, I’m over it,” Eddie says, Josh rises an eyebrow. He wasn’t really lying, he had been over it, been understanding, she’d gone to look after her dying mum and he was the one who’d left first, that was until the papers had shown up on Monday and there was nothing about dual custody in them. Shannon hadn’t just left him, she’d left Christopher.

“Sure, and it has nothing to do with you drinking alone at two pm on a Thursday?”

“I just needed a break,” Eddie admits, it was probably a bit too honest for a conversation with a guy he hasn’t seen in almost six years but Josh just nods.

“What you need is to have a little bit of fun”

Eddie snorts, “I have three jobs and a kid, I don’t have time for fun”

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“I have Chris” When he’s not working, which is not often, he spends as much time with Chris as possible.

“Me and the boys are going to the rodeo, come with us, Chris is five right? My Misses has a kid about that age, bring him over for a play date she’ll look after him for a few hours.”

“I don’t know”

“Look, I know we haven’t talked in years so I might be crossing over the line but if you run yourself into the ground you're not going to be any good for your kid okay? You need to have some fun and let off some steam, or you’ll end up here every day like Bill over there” Josh nods over to the town drunk who’s barely staying upright on his stool at the other end of the bar.

Eddie sighs and nods, “Yeah, yeah your right, okay, Saturday I’ll be there.”

Josh claps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder again, “You won’t regret it.”

Eddie highly doubts that but he also knows that the spiralling he’s been doing isn’t healthy and talking to Josh has been the highlight of his week so he’d give it a go.

Continue Reading on A03

Let me know if you want me to tag you in any updates to do with this fic!

@wildlife4life​ you asked for the cowboy smut...