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I have 3 4 5 stories I really need to finish and my muse has completely and not unsurprisingly... abandoned me like a used candy wrapper on the side of the road.
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write3 4 5 as many as I can squeeze out before I actually get my mojo back and start writing what I'm supposed to be writing.
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
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Actually, kill is too neat a word for what he's planning to do because hey, come meet me brother, we'll have breakfast is so far outside what this experience has been that Matt well and truly has to plan torture as well as killing with lots of sharp and uncomfortable items.
He swallows hard and looks back across at the man sitting opposite him.
Dean had been some kind of abstract thought all the time that Matt had known Sam. Some kind of ideal, one-side of a phonecall but not a real person. The actual Dean is glaring at Matt while he works methodically through three different breakfast specials, looking like he wants to stab Matt through the eye with his fork.
Sam has been at the counter for ten minutes, flirting with the waitress and Matt is going to hang, draw and quarter him.
"So, are you Sam's boyfriend or whatever?" Dean asks, not bothering to finish the pancake he's mauling to death before shoving bacon in his mouth on top of it. Matt had always thought that after John, no one would be scary but Dean is...
Dean is flat out terrifying.
"No, it's not like that," Matt starts to say but jerks when Dean slams his fork on the table, sharp tines upright.
"Why the hell not? My Sammy not good enough for you?" Dean demands, something proprietary in his tone and murderous in his look.
Matt has no earthly idea how to answer that question without giving Dean a reason to leap the table and strangle him to death.
He and Sam have sex. It's nice and transitory and if Sam were able to stay still for all of five goddamn minutes then maybe Matt would like it to go somewhere else but at the moment, Matt knows it's impossible. Matt fights the urge to look over his shoulder and see if Sam is stalling on purpose just to mess with him.
"I like him," Matt offers, hoping it's enough to put off his execution.
"Jesus Christ, Andie Walsh," Dean snorts. "Who knew Sam was a lesbian?"
"Wha-?"
"Y'know," Sam says, sliding into the booth on Matt's side and dropping an arm over his shoulder. "I might just tell Janey over there to forget about the free pie if you're going to be such an asshole."
"Pie?" Matt and Sam both say at the same time with identical bright expressions and then look at each other.
Dean rolls his eyes and looks back at his breakfast but for just a minute, Matt thinks that maybe he's edged away from certain doom.
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Oh, i luff.
So much.
:)
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