"All Along the Watchtower" is actually the DCBB fic I'll be writing with fossarian, so I can't over-spoil it here. Just a wee one from my section won't hurt, though, and you'll get your Irish AU after the comment down below. :D
Castiel beside him is perfectly still, oblivious both to the cold and Dean’s movement under the covers as he breathes softly and slumbers on. The same as he does every morning, Dean waffles between burrowing back beneath the blankets and wrapping his arms around Cas for warmth, or shaking him awake. He never considers letting Castiel sleep on without him-as much for his own sake, as Dean’s. Lingering a moment longer before he accepts that the morning will carry on without them, just like always, Dean wriggles around to his other side and rouses Castiel with a combination of lazy groping and soft kisses along his cheekbone, all the while marvelling at how the son of a bitch manages to retain so much heat, when Dean’s balls have all but withdrawn into his body from cold
( ... )
Heh, well, The Portrait Artist is actually just a collection of notes and snippets at the moment, so it'd be hard to share. Irish restaurant AU, however, I can do. :)
“So you really think Cas just wants a piece of me?” he asked as he started to shampoo his hair, scrubbing the day’s worth of grease and sweat and city residue from his scalp. The coke intensified the tingling effect while simultaneously making Dean hyper-aware of his suddenly-smooth face. Castiel was pretty scruffy by comparison, he remembered, but it wasn’t as though there was anyone telling him to shave. Asshole. “Seems like a pretty stupid way to pull, considering he could just, I dunno… ask
( ... )
Heh, I might actually finish it relatively soon, since I'm no longer under any pressure to make it 20 000+ words. Right now it's around 8000, but it's not inconceivable that I'll finish it around 11 or 12k. It'd be really nice to get it posted!
Infinite Riches is on hold because I tried to make it too many things at once. But basically it's a dream-AU involving Michael. I can preview both. :P
Bombora: “N-no,” I answered slowly, and for a split second our mouths were so close that to lick my lips would have been to lick Dean’s as well. “My apartment is just down the street-I’d very much like to see how you look in my own bed.” The sight of Dean laid out on my bedsheets was an after-image I’d be sure to keep long after his scent faded away in the wash. Tricks weren’t anything I tended to hold onto, but I had this feeling, this nagging suspicion that Dean would be different. I expected those bright green eyes to haunt me for a while; already I had a hard time looking away. “Besides, we can make as much noise as we want without worrying that we’re disturbing the guests
( ... )
oh oh oh, Life on Earth! And When Play Turns Bitter too! I actually get withdrawal symptoms when I get to the end of the the most recent chapters in this fic. Really.
Heh, nice try. If I'd written more of either of those things, they'd be posted. :P
I haven't written anything else for WPTB since last week, unfortunately, because I needed a break from all the crying and frustration, but I'd be happy to post a snippet of something else!
I'm definitely willing to wait. In that case Hold, Still sounds intriguing. I've been kind of worried about the way the relationship between Cas and Dean has been going this season and I'd love to read somebody elses perspective on it (especially if it were to be improved by the addition of porn). But then Vamp!Dean sounds so appealing too....
Okay, you got it! :) The summary might explain more than the snippet: Dean could hold Castiel still and remind him of all that he’s missed.
Dean is wide awake when he hears the rustle of feathers and the gentle pull of wingbeats at the covers on his bed, and he breathes his first sigh of relief since he realized he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, five hours ago. In the room next door, Sam is, presumably, asleep-at last. Despite his best attempts not to, Dean spent the better part of his night listening to Sam get it on with whichever girls he brought back to his room; it’s barely been an hour since the headboard gave its death knoll against the wall and went silent, but there are some things you just can’t block out, no matter how hard you try. Dean’s no literary critic, but if this were a book he’s pretty sure he’d find the role reversal heavy-handed at best. He wonders if Chuck is still writing shitty novels about Dean and his brother down in the Caribbean somewhere, but the thought drops pretty quickly when Castiel
( ... )
I'm really gonna have to just friend you instead of siently trolling your lj like a creeper hehe. I think I will.
But I just had to say that I read the snippets (and since reading WPTB I've went back and read all your D/Cs) and you have the most compelling way with words. I don't know what it is but it's amazing. It's been a long time since I've read like a published author who's managed to draw me in the way you do or just make me think about the work like just randomly. Translation; you are awesome :).
Aw, thank you, my dear! Those are really lovely words and I certainly appreciate them. I don't know if I feel quite the *same* about my own work, because there are so many other fic writers out there who make me feel exactly as you just described, but about their work, but it's really encouraging to know that others perceive my work much differently than I do. ♥
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Also something from All Along the Watchtower, because BSG pretty much made this song the love of my life.
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Castiel beside him is perfectly still, oblivious both to the cold and Dean’s movement under the covers as he breathes softly and slumbers on. The same as he does every morning, Dean waffles between burrowing back beneath the blankets and wrapping his arms around Cas for warmth, or shaking him awake. He never considers letting Castiel sleep on without him-as much for his own sake, as Dean’s. Lingering a moment longer before he accepts that the morning will carry on without them, just like always, Dean wriggles around to his other side and rouses Castiel with a combination of lazy groping and soft kisses along his cheekbone, all the while marvelling at how the son of a bitch manages to retain so much heat, when Dean’s balls have all but withdrawn into his body from cold ( ... )
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That is all.
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“So you really think Cas just wants a piece of me?” he asked as he started to shampoo his hair, scrubbing the day’s worth of grease and sweat and city residue from his scalp. The coke intensified the tingling effect while simultaneously making Dean hyper-aware of his suddenly-smooth face. Castiel was pretty scruffy by comparison, he remembered, but it wasn’t as though there was anyone telling him to shave. Asshole. “Seems like a pretty stupid way to pull, considering he could just, I dunno… ask ( ... )
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Bombora:
“N-no,” I answered slowly, and for a split second our mouths were so close that to lick my lips would have been to lick Dean’s as well. “My apartment is just down the street-I’d very much like to see how you look in my own bed.” The sight of Dean laid out on my bedsheets was an after-image I’d be sure to keep long after his scent faded away in the wash. Tricks weren’t anything I tended to hold onto, but I had this feeling, this nagging suspicion that Dean would be different. I expected those bright green eyes to haunt me for a while; already I had a hard time looking away. “Besides, we can make as much noise as we want without worrying that we’re disturbing the guests ( ... )
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And When Play Turns Bitter too! I actually get withdrawal symptoms when I get to the end of the the most recent chapters in this fic. Really.
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I haven't written anything else for WPTB since last week, unfortunately, because I needed a break from all the crying and frustration, but I'd be happy to post a snippet of something else!
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In that case Hold, Still sounds intriguing. I've been kind of worried about the way the relationship between Cas and Dean has been going this season and I'd love to read somebody elses perspective on it (especially if it were to be improved by the addition of porn).
But then Vamp!Dean sounds so appealing too....
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Dean is wide awake when he hears the rustle of feathers and the gentle pull of wingbeats at the covers on his bed, and he breathes his first sigh of relief since he realized he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, five hours ago. In the room next door, Sam is, presumably, asleep-at last. Despite his best attempts not to, Dean spent the better part of his night listening to Sam get it on with whichever girls he brought back to his room; it’s barely been an hour since the headboard gave its death knoll against the wall and went silent, but there are some things you just can’t block out, no matter how hard you try. Dean’s no literary critic, but if this were a book he’s pretty sure he’d find the role reversal heavy-handed at best. He wonders if Chuck is still writing shitty novels about Dean and his brother down in the Caribbean somewhere, but the thought drops pretty quickly when Castiel ( ... )
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But I just had to say that I read the snippets (and since reading WPTB I've went back and read all your D/Cs) and you have the most compelling way with words. I don't know what it is but it's amazing. It's been a long time since I've read like a published author who's managed to draw me in the way you do or just make me think about the work like just randomly. Translation; you are awesome :).
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