skipping ahead
Expect a new year's post eventually. Or not. In the meantime, I am participating in the Fandom Snowflake Challenge. Day One: In your own space, post a rec for at least three fanworks that you have created. It can be your favorite fanworks that you've created, or fanworks you feel no one ever saw, or fanworks you say would define you as a creator.
Ok, I don't even know how to define myself as a creator, so I'm going with the stuff I like/stuff people don't see parts of this one.
Currently, I am all about my Supernatural series Amnesia Year, set post season 5 and slightly AU to season 6, in which I sent Dean road tripping with Gabriel's vessel. Or possibly actually Gabriel. Dean's having trouble making the distinction. Anyway. All told, it's already the longest thing I've ever written, and there's still more I want to write.
"You do know me," he said, softly. His eyes fixed on Dean, but Dean didn't answer. "Alright. I remember the past couple weeks fine, in all their stultifying glory. I remember the woman who found me and brought me here. I remember waking up in the hallway of a condemned building -- I'm told it used to be a motel. I don't remember anything before that."
"Nothing?"
"Seriously, am I speaking in tongues?" he demanded, all bristly irritation again. "Why is this so hard to understand?'
Because I knew you as the Trickster first. Because you're an angel. Because you're supposed to be dead. The man in the other bed shifted restlessly at the outburst, close to waking. Dean wasn't going to get any answers here, anyway. Time to go. Dean turned to the door.
"Wait!" Dean looked back. The guy looked convincingly lost. "What's my name?"
~~
I simultaneously like and shy away from reccing my humorous stories, because what if they're only funny to me? What then?
Eiswein. Black Books, gen. Bernard Black's POV (enticement/warning?). OMG, Bernard. There is so much wrong with him, yet I love him.
"Don't know how you can sleep in your clothes," he muttered before turning back to the stove.
Bernard blinked at him, looked down at himself and back at Manny. "I refuse to participate in a system of clothing that keeps nightclothes separate from their daytime brethren."
There was a moment's pause as Manny translated into the language of his hairy home world and Bernard patted down his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. "You don't own any pajamas."
"I might," he retorted loftily.
best laid plans Supernatural, season 6. Dean/Castiel. Robo!Sam POV. I can't be the only one who finds Sam hilarious at the start of the season. Can I?
They were in one of those in between times between the research and the hunt, when Sam's thoughts turned to letting off a little steam. That would be easier if he weren't sharing a room with a brother who considered Sam the next best thing to celibate and tended to freak out over any deviation from his memory of normal. But maybe if Dean wanted the room to himself, Sam wouldn't have to come up with a hunting-related excuse to stay out all night.
"What do you think of Castiel?"
"What do I think of him?" Dean gave him a weird look. "I dunno. He's less of a dick than most angels?"
Sam scratched 'get Dean to talk about his feelings' off the list. It had seemed like a long shot.
... actually, I could go on for quite a bit here. I write rather a lot of goofy fics.
~~
I have the same issue with reccing my own theoretically sexy stories, but these two I feel confident about.
but it burns the same due South. Fraser/Kowalski/Vecchio (technically it is part of a series, but it can be read as a standalone PWP). Sleepy morning(ish) sex.
Ray kissed him until his lips were buzzing with it, until Ben's whole being was focused on heat and wet and more, until Ray pulled soft noises out of him on each breath. Until Ray stirred, pushed himself up on an elbow, and said, "Fuck, Fraser," the fricatives chasing shivers down his spine. Ray smiled into Ben's mouth, and freed to move, Ben rolled towards him, half over him, really, and indulged himself in smoothing his hand over as much skin as he could.
our old room Sherlock Holmes (2009). Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes. Missing (pegging) scene.
He could imagine several ways in which leverage would be useful. Sherlock nodded immediate agreement, and Irene moved away and off the bed. The position of his arms made the shift to kneeling awkward, but he managed, noting as he did the sound of a drawer sliding and clothing rustling. Irene returned, adjusting the dressing gown at the belt before placing a jar upon the mattress, its lid askew and odorless from even this slight distance. Then she gathered up her gown to knee-walk back to the center of the bed. She straddled his lap, dropping the handfuls of silk to drape her arms around his neck. She smiled dazzlingly before allowing him to recapture her mouth. The battle for dominance of the kiss was as satisfying in its way as their usual battle of wits, and, considering the handicap of his position, he felt he was acquitting himself quite well.
Then she pressed closer still, and he groaned into the kiss as he rubbed against her.
"Mm," she hummed, pulling her lips away. "Hello, Mr. Holmes."
"So formal, Miss Adler." The even tone required more than he would ever admit. He leaned forward seeking her lips again, but she eluded him, maintaining the slightest, maddening gap between them. Her breath tickled his lips, as she teased him with the possibility that he could reach her if he stretched the slightest bit more, just a little further, until finally he was at the end of his rope -- well, handcuffs -- and flopped back against the headboard.
Irene shook her head. "Is that the extent your famous determination?"
"I believe I know when a pursuit is lost."
"You shouldn't give up so easily."
"Would you come here," he replied exasperatedly.
And finally a couple fics I like but very few people seem to have seen:
at the speed of laughter Star Trek (2009) Scotty/Sulu get-together fic. I love rare pairs, but writing them does mean writing to a smaller audience.
Scotty stared up at the stars and wondered if this was the moment when he would have realized that space itself must be the moving variable. When Mister Future Ambassador had written out the formula for transwarp beaming and declared that he, Montgomery Scott, had been the one to figure it out -- well, that had been pretty cool. And it had solved the problem of getting Kirk back aboard the Enterprise, though his own arrival had been less than ideal.
The problem was, he hadn't really discovered it, had he? Sure, the formula had his name on it and had probably eased the way for his promotion, but...
It wasn't the same.
Aware of Emptyness Hakkai character study, Saiyuki. Not posted to any Saiyuki comms, not really read.... is there a correlation?
At the orphanage, his clothes had been interchangeable with the others' clothes. Not just interchangeable-- interchanged at every laundry day. Even his cherished books had not really been his own. They had belonged to the library, even if no one else read them. And if Gonou could have accepted that and smiled and played as he was supposed to, he would have become interchangeable with the other orphans and rejects, and eventually he might have been placed, interchangeable with some happy couple's imagined child.
But he didn't. The most he managed was a feigned pleasantness, which he discovered could be off-putting as often as reassuring to the sisters.
The Dreamwidth version of this entry currently has
comments.
Ok, I don't even know how to define myself as a creator, so I'm going with the stuff I like/stuff people don't see parts of this one.
Currently, I am all about my Supernatural series Amnesia Year, set post season 5 and slightly AU to season 6, in which I sent Dean road tripping with Gabriel's vessel. Or possibly actually Gabriel. Dean's having trouble making the distinction. Anyway. All told, it's already the longest thing I've ever written, and there's still more I want to write.
"You do know me," he said, softly. His eyes fixed on Dean, but Dean didn't answer. "Alright. I remember the past couple weeks fine, in all their stultifying glory. I remember the woman who found me and brought me here. I remember waking up in the hallway of a condemned building -- I'm told it used to be a motel. I don't remember anything before that."
"Nothing?"
"Seriously, am I speaking in tongues?" he demanded, all bristly irritation again. "Why is this so hard to understand?'
Because I knew you as the Trickster first. Because you're an angel. Because you're supposed to be dead. The man in the other bed shifted restlessly at the outburst, close to waking. Dean wasn't going to get any answers here, anyway. Time to go. Dean turned to the door.
"Wait!" Dean looked back. The guy looked convincingly lost. "What's my name?"
~~
I simultaneously like and shy away from reccing my humorous stories, because what if they're only funny to me? What then?
Eiswein. Black Books, gen. Bernard Black's POV (enticement/warning?). OMG, Bernard. There is so much wrong with him, yet I love him.
"Don't know how you can sleep in your clothes," he muttered before turning back to the stove.
Bernard blinked at him, looked down at himself and back at Manny. "I refuse to participate in a system of clothing that keeps nightclothes separate from their daytime brethren."
There was a moment's pause as Manny translated into the language of his hairy home world and Bernard patted down his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. "You don't own any pajamas."
"I might," he retorted loftily.
best laid plans Supernatural, season 6. Dean/Castiel. Robo!Sam POV. I can't be the only one who finds Sam hilarious at the start of the season. Can I?
They were in one of those in between times between the research and the hunt, when Sam's thoughts turned to letting off a little steam. That would be easier if he weren't sharing a room with a brother who considered Sam the next best thing to celibate and tended to freak out over any deviation from his memory of normal. But maybe if Dean wanted the room to himself, Sam wouldn't have to come up with a hunting-related excuse to stay out all night.
"What do you think of Castiel?"
"What do I think of him?" Dean gave him a weird look. "I dunno. He's less of a dick than most angels?"
Sam scratched 'get Dean to talk about his feelings' off the list. It had seemed like a long shot.
... actually, I could go on for quite a bit here. I write rather a lot of goofy fics.
~~
I have the same issue with reccing my own theoretically sexy stories, but these two I feel confident about.
but it burns the same due South. Fraser/Kowalski/Vecchio (technically it is part of a series, but it can be read as a standalone PWP). Sleepy morning(ish) sex.
Ray kissed him until his lips were buzzing with it, until Ben's whole being was focused on heat and wet and more, until Ray pulled soft noises out of him on each breath. Until Ray stirred, pushed himself up on an elbow, and said, "Fuck, Fraser," the fricatives chasing shivers down his spine. Ray smiled into Ben's mouth, and freed to move, Ben rolled towards him, half over him, really, and indulged himself in smoothing his hand over as much skin as he could.
our old room Sherlock Holmes (2009). Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes. Missing (pegging) scene.
He could imagine several ways in which leverage would be useful. Sherlock nodded immediate agreement, and Irene moved away and off the bed. The position of his arms made the shift to kneeling awkward, but he managed, noting as he did the sound of a drawer sliding and clothing rustling. Irene returned, adjusting the dressing gown at the belt before placing a jar upon the mattress, its lid askew and odorless from even this slight distance. Then she gathered up her gown to knee-walk back to the center of the bed. She straddled his lap, dropping the handfuls of silk to drape her arms around his neck. She smiled dazzlingly before allowing him to recapture her mouth. The battle for dominance of the kiss was as satisfying in its way as their usual battle of wits, and, considering the handicap of his position, he felt he was acquitting himself quite well.
Then she pressed closer still, and he groaned into the kiss as he rubbed against her.
"Mm," she hummed, pulling her lips away. "Hello, Mr. Holmes."
"So formal, Miss Adler." The even tone required more than he would ever admit. He leaned forward seeking her lips again, but she eluded him, maintaining the slightest, maddening gap between them. Her breath tickled his lips, as she teased him with the possibility that he could reach her if he stretched the slightest bit more, just a little further, until finally he was at the end of his rope -- well, handcuffs -- and flopped back against the headboard.
Irene shook her head. "Is that the extent your famous determination?"
"I believe I know when a pursuit is lost."
"You shouldn't give up so easily."
"Would you come here," he replied exasperatedly.
And finally a couple fics I like but very few people seem to have seen:
at the speed of laughter Star Trek (2009) Scotty/Sulu get-together fic. I love rare pairs, but writing them does mean writing to a smaller audience.
Scotty stared up at the stars and wondered if this was the moment when he would have realized that space itself must be the moving variable. When Mister Future Ambassador had written out the formula for transwarp beaming and declared that he, Montgomery Scott, had been the one to figure it out -- well, that had been pretty cool. And it had solved the problem of getting Kirk back aboard the Enterprise, though his own arrival had been less than ideal.
The problem was, he hadn't really discovered it, had he? Sure, the formula had his name on it and had probably eased the way for his promotion, but...
It wasn't the same.
Aware of Emptyness Hakkai character study, Saiyuki. Not posted to any Saiyuki comms, not really read.... is there a correlation?
At the orphanage, his clothes had been interchangeable with the others' clothes. Not just interchangeable-- interchanged at every laundry day. Even his cherished books had not really been his own. They had belonged to the library, even if no one else read them. And if Gonou could have accepted that and smiled and played as he was supposed to, he would have become interchangeable with the other orphans and rejects, and eventually he might have been placed, interchangeable with some happy couple's imagined child.
But he didn't. The most he managed was a feigned pleasantness, which he discovered could be off-putting as often as reassuring to the sisters.
The Dreamwidth version of this entry currently has
comments.