A Few Things of Note
--I have just over 21K words of Blue Like Heaven, the third in the 5D5D series. At best guess, where I'm at now, I hope to finish up a rough at some point this week. It's still kicking my ass, but I think I kicked back, since I managed to write about 12K this weekend, which makes me feel slightly productive.
--I've stumbled across a title for the fourth one, Down Darker and Darker Stairs, which comes from "Bavarian Gentians", a poem by D. H. Lawrence. Yes, it does reflect the (hopeful) mood of the fourth one, which is mostly plotted out in my head. No title as of yet for the fifth one, but that one, also, is mostly plotted and I'm really looking forward to writing it.
--jellybean_slash and I have been porning this weekend. Usually she writes Dean and I write Sam and we bounce off of each other really well that way, but, for whatever odd reason, we switched things up and the end results have been, er, good. Really good. Mel's got a wonderful Sam voice. Hopefully, eventually, we'll clean things up for wider consumption. Because, y'all, she's awesome.
The light whuff of breath against Dean’s neck hitches in rhythm, that’s what wakes him up this time, and he blinks in the light, laying completely still as Sam wakes up, slow like he has been doing lately, a small groan escaping Sam’s lips that speaks of pain and headaches.
Their legs are a jumble under the covers Dean pulled up around six, the room too cold to go without, and one of Sam’s arms is across Dean’s chest, hand hanging off the other side of Dean’s body.
Sam shifts and Dean feels his brother’s cock twitch against his hip.
“Feel any better?” Dean asks quietly, expecting Sam to back away, to get out of bed and avoid him for the rest of the day, using the hunt as an excuse.
Instead, Sam says, “No,” and moves closer to Dean, presses his face against Dean’s shoulder, blocking his eyes from the light of the room. “More sleep.”
Dean doesn’t have a problem with that, says as much, and he lies there while Sam falls back asleep, burning from the heat of Sam’s body.
--I've stumbled across a title for the fourth one, Down Darker and Darker Stairs, which comes from "Bavarian Gentians", a poem by D. H. Lawrence. Yes, it does reflect the (hopeful) mood of the fourth one, which is mostly plotted out in my head. No title as of yet for the fifth one, but that one, also, is mostly plotted and I'm really looking forward to writing it.
--jellybean_slash and I have been porning this weekend. Usually she writes Dean and I write Sam and we bounce off of each other really well that way, but, for whatever odd reason, we switched things up and the end results have been, er, good. Really good. Mel's got a wonderful Sam voice. Hopefully, eventually, we'll clean things up for wider consumption. Because, y'all, she's awesome.
The light whuff of breath against Dean’s neck hitches in rhythm, that’s what wakes him up this time, and he blinks in the light, laying completely still as Sam wakes up, slow like he has been doing lately, a small groan escaping Sam’s lips that speaks of pain and headaches.
Their legs are a jumble under the covers Dean pulled up around six, the room too cold to go without, and one of Sam’s arms is across Dean’s chest, hand hanging off the other side of Dean’s body.
Sam shifts and Dean feels his brother’s cock twitch against his hip.
“Feel any better?” Dean asks quietly, expecting Sam to back away, to get out of bed and avoid him for the rest of the day, using the hunt as an excuse.
Instead, Sam says, “No,” and moves closer to Dean, presses his face against Dean’s shoulder, blocking his eyes from the light of the room. “More sleep.”
Dean doesn’t have a problem with that, says as much, and he lies there while Sam falls back asleep, burning from the heat of Sam’s body.