[personal profile] nansense
Hint: It sounds like boredom.

I'm doing the WIP meme stolen from
[info]mclachlan and a bunch of other people because I'm bored, bored, bored. All of them are SPN, but feel free to ask for snippets as you fancy.

Metal on the Inside OR All Along the Watchtower
2014 Dean/Cas AU-AU

Black Light
Vampire!Dean/Cas 6.05 interlude

Dean/Cas (for

Dark End of the Street

Dean/Cas (well, you know)

Hold, Still
Dean/Cas 6.03/6.15 coda

In the Weeds
Dean/Cas Irish restaurant AU

Infinite Riches
Dean/Cas 5.17 coda

Life on Earth

Dean/Cas (yes, that one)

The Portrait Artist
trueform!Castiel character study

When Play Turns Bitter

Date: 2011-03-07 09:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tracy-loo-who.livejournal.com

Also something from All Along the Watchtower, because BSG pretty much made this song the love of my life.

Date: 2011-03-07 10:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] strangeandcharm.livejournal.com
I second Watchtower! \O/

Date: 2011-03-07 10:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
"All Along the Watchtower" is actually the DCBB fic I'll be writing with [livejournal.com profile] 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all the while marvelling at how the son of a bitch manages to retain so much heat, when Dean’s balls have all but withdrawn into his body from cold.

“I was keeping watch,” Castiel mumbles groggily as Dean’s persistence pays off and he’s forced to abandon his sleep. Dean rolls his eyes at this, knowing full well that, given the opportunity, Castiel would sleep past lunch and straight into dinner. He wishes he could let him, carve out a single day in which they could do nothing more than sleep and fuck and laze around, but the time for that has passed, and probably won’t come again.

“You sure were,” answers Dean with a laugh. He rolls them so that he’s pressed against the length of Castiel beneath them, to which his cock gives a twinge of interest. There’s nothing to which Cas responds quite so enthusiastically as morning head, but
Christ, Dean’s too fucking cold to do anything by lie here and think about starting the day—in good time. The sweat would probably freeze upon their backs. “Anything good?”
Edited Date: 2011-03-07 10:24 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-03-07 10:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] strangeandcharm.livejournal.com

That is all.

Date: 2011-03-07 10:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
The mmmmmm'ing ends about 2 paragraphs after where this leaves off. Then the crying starts. Lots of crying. :D

Date: 2011-03-07 10:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
And [livejournal.com profile] fossarian does angst better than most people do breathing. So it should be good. :P

Date: 2011-03-07 10:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tracy-loo-who.livejournal.com
I approve wholeheartedly of anything with the words "morning head" in it. XD But the underlying hint of angst is really interesting! Can't wait to see what it's about.

And the Irish AU -- heeee, Cas and his utter inability to flirt with Dean in a socially acceptable manner is already MAKING ME GLEE. ♥

Date: 2011-03-07 10:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
Oh man, the fucking angst in that story is going to kill me. It's a pretty awesome concept, though, which I can squee about to my heart's content - it's [livejournal.com profile] fossarian's idea and not technically self-promotion. :D

I'll be so happy to post In the Weeds. It really does put a smile on my face each time I read it, and it's definitely doable now that I no longer have to worry about making it 20 000 words. :)

Glad you enjoyed both samples! This is kind of fun...
Edited Date: 2011-03-07 10:54 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-03-08 12:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] slinkymilinky.livejournal.com




Date: 2011-03-07 10:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ophaniel.livejournal.com
*whistles* Impressive list!

Irish Restaurant snippet too Please!!
Although, The Portrait Artist sounds really interesting!

Also, Im in love with your icon.

Date: 2011-03-07 10:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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.”

“Who knows?” answered Ruby. “Maybe he’s just socially retarded or something. Some people never progress past the stage where they think that the way to get a guy’s attention is to throw rocks at them. Unless he’s been schtupping restaurant staff since culinary school, he probably doesn’t get out that much, either. I hear that Puck works them hard in Vegas.”

Dean snorted. “A few rocks, I could handle. Fucking with someone’s facial hair is just crossing a line—I don’t care if they’re Wolfgang Puck himself.”

Ruby chuckled, and must have jumped down from the bathroom counter since her voice was suddenly much closer. “You look better without it,” she told him seriously. “D’you think you’d fuck him?”

The question made Dean frown, though he realized a second later that Ruby couldn’t see him. “Who, Wolfgang Puck?” For a second he considered just inviting her into the shower so that they could have this conversation face-to-face, and then remembered that some things were too much to be blamed on the drugs. He had no intention of trying to explain to Sam why he’d accidentally fucked his maybe-love interest against a shower wall.

There was a laugh. Ruby smacked the shower curtain in derision. “No, you asshole. Castiel. You gotta admit he’s pretty hot, even if he’s a douchebag. It’s like the Gordon Ramsay ‘tude wrapped up in a much hotter package.”

The accent is from [livejournal.com profile] nuv0le_rapide, I believe!

Date: 2011-03-07 10:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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!

Date: 2011-03-07 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mclachlan.livejournal.com

Also, I'd love to know more about Infinite Riches!

Date: 2011-03-07 10:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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

“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.”

Apparently this reasoning was sufficient for Dean, his expression gone soft and heavy-lidded at my words, and we each finished our drinks in silence before he threw a few bills down on the bar for Adam. I was conscious of the men milling around us, pressing close in their effort to navigate the bar or attract Adam’s attention, a few of them even trying to catch our eye in case we fancied a three-way. In spite of all that, I barely noticed anyone but Dean. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you,” he murmured into my ear. He gave a cheeky tug on my tie. “Lead the way.”

The promise implicit in the statement made me flush and harden slightly in my pants, my mind already racing ahead of us down the street to my flat. I saw us hurrying out of the bar with Dean’s arm around my waist beneath my suit jacket, and I pictured us not stopping to kiss the whole way there, not even when the elevator doors slid closed and we were totally alone. No, I wouldn’t get to feel that mouth against mine until my apartment door closed behind us and I turned to see Dean rolling up the cuffs of his shirt, a man getting down to business.

He didn’t disappoint me at all, not that night—in fact he so far exceeded my wildest fantasies that I never drove to Chicago the next day, content to bend to Dean’s suggestion that we put the weekend to better and more creative uses. It’s not that he was some spectacular hard body with a thirteen-inch cock or a tongue that could work miracles (well, maybe the last one); I’ve had those types before, and they never lingered in memory longer than a few hours. No, Dean was just an average guy with a heartbreaking face and a slight air of mystery to him, and so much passion that I for a minute reconsidered what I was getting myself into. The way he touched me, the way he fucked me, the way he looked into my face afterward like he didn’t quite know what to make of the whole thing… it just made my skin tingle and burn like an ant beneath a child’s magnifying glass.

Dozens of men have warmed my sheets before, but Dean was the first to make me want to stop the whole ride and think about how I’d feel when he walked out my door, never to be seen again.

Date: 2011-03-07 10:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mclachlan.livejournal.com
oh my goooooood i need more of this yesterday

Date: 2011-03-07 10:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
You should have resisted the spoiler! You'll be waiting a while lol. Unless you want to beta it for me hahahaha

Date: 2011-03-07 10:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
Infinite Riches:
Stepping into the room, Dean finds himself in a little nursery painted a soft yellow. He flicks the lightswitch. A wooden crib sits beneath the quaint picture window, complete with spinning mobile, and interspersed between the framed illustrations of giraffes and lions on the wall are various photographs of a child; in one of them Dean’s cradling it in his arms, smiling like the happiest man alive. His stomach drops. At this point the only thing that could surprise him less is a demon baby, but as he approaches and peeks into the crib, he sees nothing more than a little boy of perhaps a year, who stops squalling the moment their eyes meet. The kid smiles up at him in a sleepy, dreamy way, rubbing chubby fists into his eyes, and damned if they aren’t the famous Winchester hazel.

Dean has the sudden urge to sit down, but doesn’t. On the front of the baby’s pyjamas is the AC/DC band logo, which instead reads AB/CD. Fucking hilarious. “Okay, Mike, I get it,” he says out loud. “You can cut the bullshit already.” Of course, nothing happens, but Dean stands there with one eye trained on the ceiling like it might actually be that easy for once.

At another gurgle from the baby, he’s more or less forced to acknowledge it with an awkward, “Hey, buddy.”

Finding himself reaching into the crib when the child’s hands stretch towards him in invitation, Dean, unsure of what else to do, gathers him into his arms along with the blanket. He shifts the little boy around until he’s resting comfortably against his shoulder, warm and barely half-alert, and without ceremony the child curls into him, clinging like a limpet. However many years it’s been that Dean last held a baby—since he was what, seven?—it’s almost second nature to support the boy’s weight just so and rub comforting circles into his back. Before long, he’s beginning to doze off again, breathing quietly into Dean’s neck. Compared to the child’s easy heartbeat, Dean feels like his could hammer right out of his chest.

Date: 2011-03-12 11:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amber1960.livejournal.com
Oh this one threatens heartbreak!

Date: 2011-03-07 11:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] katie-f-thomas.livejournal.com
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.

Date: 2011-03-07 11:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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!

Date: 2011-03-07 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] katie-f-thomas.livejournal.com
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....

Date: 2011-03-07 11:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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 approaches from the side of the bed.

Tentatively, he says, “Dean?” and reluctantly Dean realizes that the angel probably saw him unmoving beneath the sheets and assumed he was still asleep.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean answers, and moves to sit up against the headboard. His back has been bitching at him for the past few days, and it twinges hard enough to make him grimace as he shuffles around on the stiff mattress. Castiel notices the face and gives a quick tilt of the head, but otherwise has no comment. He appears about as surprised by his own presence here as Dean feels. When he broke the silence of his room with a gentle exhalation of the angel’s name, he truly didn’t expect Castiel to show up.

“Are you unwell?” asks Castiel after a pause, and his eyes narrow slightly as he scans Dean for sign of injury.

“No, no,” Dean says with a chuckle. “Just age and me not used to being back on the road—no biggie.” Castiel blinks at him, and his eyes are huge and glossy in the darkness until Dean reaches over to switch on the bedside lamp. They still look enormous, but Castiel seems significantly more normal with some light on him. “How’s life down at the Ranch?” By which he means Heaven, of course, but from the way Castiel’s described the state of things up there, Dean doesn’t think comparing he Host to a herd of wild animals is far off.

Unsurprisingly, his question goes ignored. “Is there a reason you summoned me?” Castiel says abruptly. The crease between his eyebrows suggests that Dean’s about one minute away from having to call for backup, and he can’t remember Cas being this testy since the time he first pulled Dean out of Hell. It seems everyone’s got a hankering for the good old days around here, except Dean.

“I didn’t summon you,” he corrects, if that’s how Cas wants to play it. “I said your name.”

“With intent.”

Forehead wrinkling, Dean snorts. “How exactly does one say someone’s name
without intent? I didn’t realize there were varying degrees of invocation, as well as murder.”

For a moment, Castiel is silent, but his hovering by the bedside takes on a decidedly uncomfortable shift. “Perhaps I overheard you by accident.”

This makes Dean laugh, because apparently Castiel is more entertaining as Sheriff of Heaven. While not as bizarre as seeing him make air quotes, watching him try to lie without help or prompting from Dean is pretty rich. “You never do anything by accident, Cas,” Dean reminds him. When Castiel doesn’t answer, Dean slogs himself out of bed and pads over to the mini-fridge for a couple of beers.

Date: 2011-03-08 07:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alassea-lorien.livejournal.com
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 :).

Date: 2011-03-08 03:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
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. ♥

Date: 2011-03-13 10:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nyoka.livejournal.com
I am so flipping excited by all of this I cannot even tell you. <3333

Date: 2011-03-14 06:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nanoochka.livejournal.com
Heh, thanks! I eagerly await them all being finished. XD



April 2011


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