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the_milky_way♥ I saw this around and thought it was a good idea... proof me wrong if you want.
So since I probably won't be able to send any Christmas cards this year (safe for the special snowflakes that always get one and to who I own packages anyway. :)) I thought I'd offer something else for the holidays.
Leave me prompts for drabbles. Can be Christmas-themed or not I don't care (and I only promise drabbles because I still have so many things to write). Yoiu know my fandoms but you can try and convince me to write something else. I just have to know about it (no promises though, leave an Plan-B prompt, too).
So yes, leave me prompts!!! Or you know, I might even try to draw or make icons. Torture me.
Considering how 'many' of you participated last time I think I won't have much to do... so I'm willing to submit to the torture... ;=)
Also this is purely for procrastination purposes and to distract myself from real life.
***
♥
I have been working on the outline for the SPN RPS AU crossover fic I was somehow tricked into writing. I have some scenes done already and I don't know if I like the tone of the story so far. I like the plot, I like the idea, I like it all in all but I'm not sure about the voice.
The thing is I have this scene where I keep things vague so not to spoil the surprise but I'm not sure if it's working.
So there goes your mission (if you should accept it), tell me if it's working and if not what I should change. Should I use names right from the beginning or not?
This is the first scene after the Prologue, so everything is still new.
Warning to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chani_atreides and morgentau, contains spoiler for fic, but go ahead and yell at me for fucking it all up.. LOL
....
If he wasn’t so concentrated on the hand on his hip he might have recognized the dark blue car that was inching its way through the crowd. As it is though, the warmth seeping through his thin t-shirt and the finger tips slowly moving unconsciously along the seam of the shirt distracts him enough to be completely surprised by the car stopping almost right in front of them.
“’Bout time they made it. Was thinking we’d be here for nothing,” is whispered against his ear.
Deep growl sending shivers he isn’t not able to suppress down his spine. He is not supposed to react like this, isn’t supposed to feel anything beyond the excitement of finally moving a step in the right direction. The job is more important. Always would be as it seemed.
“Sammy?” Low voice still close but directed more towards him now. The word always gets to him.
There is a question hidden in that one word. More than one actually. Questions asking if he’s there, if he’s focused enough, if he’s ready. He doesn’t know the answer to any of them. But he is glad that at least one of them had their mind on the task. He swallows, feels guilty for slacking and blinks once, twice to focus himself again.
“Am with you. Just thinking about what to do next. Can’t race them now,” he answers equally low and almost smiles when the fingers on his hip squeeze gently, showing support, grounding him somewhat as well.
“We’ll get close. Soon. Let’s watch for now, see what they want here, if we can get close. I want to know why they are back, why they are daring to risk so much. It’s not like they don’t know we are looking.”
The hand is gone from his hip before he could say something, feels the loss though, mourns it even. He lets himself fall back against the hood of the car behind him, feeling the cooled down metal underneath him and then just watches.
The night is hot, sticky even. It’s been like this for days and he wants nothing more but to be done with this week. They’ll have one or two days to make themselves relax. Just a bit of time to get out and tank some much needed energy. He wants to go to the beach, dunk himself in the coolness of the ocean and just forget for a while.
It feels like he’s been doing this for too long already. His mind is a place where he doesn’t like to spend time at but usually slips and hides himself away there. Sometimes he wonders if he’s still able to see the lines, to see where one part of his life ends and the other begins. It hasn’t been an easy distinction for a long time now. But at least he isn’t alone. He knows he isn’t.
The lights of the cars, under-body ones as well as regular headlights, illuminate the track with different varieties of colors in addition to the orange glow of the street lights. It’s loud, engines humming, people laughing, talking, and shouting. Music drowns on, reaches him from several corners. It’s a maze of bodies, artificial and human, bundled together for just one purpose, the highlight of the evening. Adrenaline is tangible in the air, the atmosphere charged with it, making he feel dizzy and elated at the same time.
It always gets to him now.
They have been in the scene for so long now that this actually feels like a part of his life. The cars, the engines he can name and detail and drool over; the lights and additions that aren’t exactly legal but still aren’t what he’s after and get a nod of approval every time he comes across something new or something he likes.
The cars are just an additional bonus anyway. It’s not why they are here; it’s not what they are looking for. The street racing circus is so varied but still so closed off that it took them three years to get settled into it without raising any eyebrows or provoking any questions, subtle or not. It’s still not the circus, the drivers or machines they want. It’s the jobs on the side, the darker deals that go down almost everywhere along the tracks, the parties, they want to get close to.
The blue car stands across from him, dark and enticing. It’s a beauty, at least he thinks so. He knows someone who wouldn’t approve and a glance to his left shows him he’s right. He almost smiles at the vague look of disgust on his partners face. It’s really kind of funny.
He looks back at the car, wonders if he missed the owners getting out of it and squints to figure out what kind of additions where added since the last time he saw it. He’d love to get his hands on it, to look under the hood and maybe even drool a little over the engine. It must be something really nice.
“See something you like?”
Deep voice from behind him and he doesn’t jump. But he flinches a little and instinctively draws closer to the body on the other side of him. He feels it tense up and knows the situation is being assessed.
“Guess so. Interested in it?”
There is a laugh, it sounds anything but humorous. He shivers again.
“Nah. Not anymore.”
And that’s a surprise. Because they know who this car belongs to. Should know it anyway, since they’ve been following it over half the continent for months now. But there’s never been anyone else connected to it but the two girls currently driving it. He feels like he’s missed something and he doesn’t like that at all. He chances a look to his left and yeah, he’s not the only one not liking those kind of new information at all.
He raises his eyebrows at the guy, takes him in for the first time and has to admit that there is something about him. Shaved head, darker complexion, something rough and ragged but still smooth somehow. The body is impressive, that much he sees. And there isn’t much open to assumption anyway, wife beater and jeans, standard look for some of the racers. The voice alone is commanding, emits an aura of authority.
“Long story. Let’s just say I’m surprised it’s still driving around,” the guy answers the question that wasn’t asked but had been clearly hanging in the air.
So he nods, relaxes back against the hood and goes back to watching things. He waits for the next thing to happen, knows it will come. The guy isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is. Or he really doesn’t want to be.
“I like what I see, though.”
This time it’s both of them that react. The body close to him tenses even more, draws itself up to his full height and he just lets himself stay back and blink at the guy. It’s usually better for him not use his height in situations like this and using his innocent eyes always somehow works.
As it does this time. Well his eyes and his partner posturing like a mad man. One of these days he really has to tell him that it looks ridiculous.
The guy holds his hands up in a placating gesture but the tension is still there.
“Relax man, was talking about the Dodge here,” the smirk is evident in the words and he’s mentally preparing himself for the face the guy will be pulling once his partner opens his big mouth. They have a reputation to hold up.
“Sincerely hope you do. My brother isn’t up for sale, dude.”
And once again he wants to laugh at the stunned looked that crosses the face in front of him. Yeah, it’s always the same. No one ever figures them out even though almost everyone around knows who they are.
“Okay. Good to know.” The guy shrugs but it’s far from nonchalant and he knows they rattled him a little just there.
He breathes in, stale, hot air and something else. The tension is still there, still ready about to explode and he doesn’t know how to dissolve it. This is usually the moment where a cute little brunette swaggers by and snatches his partner away. Not so this time.
“Uh… Dean? I think he gets it. Thanks for totally humiliating me in front of a stranger by the way.” It’s what they do, play their roles and wait for reactions.
The guy looks at Dean with interest now and he guesses their reputation is still running strong. He gets his confirmation a second later.
“Dean? Like in Dean Winchester?”
....
So since I probably won't be able to send any Christmas cards this year (safe for the special snowflakes that always get one and to who I own packages anyway. :)) I thought I'd offer something else for the holidays.
Leave me prompts for drabbles. Can be Christmas-themed or not I don't care (and I only promise drabbles because I still have so many things to write). Yoiu know my fandoms but you can try and convince me to write something else. I just have to know about it (no promises though, leave an Plan-B prompt, too).
So yes, leave me prompts!!! Or you know, I might even try to draw or make icons. Torture me.
Considering how 'many' of you participated last time I think I won't have much to do... so I'm willing to submit to the torture... ;=)
Also this is purely for procrastination purposes and to distract myself from real life.
***
♥
I have been working on the outline for the SPN RPS AU crossover fic I was somehow tricked into writing. I have some scenes done already and I don't know if I like the tone of the story so far. I like the plot, I like the idea, I like it all in all but I'm not sure about the voice.
The thing is I have this scene where I keep things vague so not to spoil the surprise but I'm not sure if it's working.
So there goes your mission (if you should accept it), tell me if it's working and if not what I should change. Should I use names right from the beginning or not?
This is the first scene after the Prologue, so everything is still new.
Warning to
chani_atreides and morgentau, contains spoiler for fic, but go ahead and yell at me for fucking it all up.. LOL....
If he wasn’t so concentrated on the hand on his hip he might have recognized the dark blue car that was inching its way through the crowd. As it is though, the warmth seeping through his thin t-shirt and the finger tips slowly moving unconsciously along the seam of the shirt distracts him enough to be completely surprised by the car stopping almost right in front of them.
“’Bout time they made it. Was thinking we’d be here for nothing,” is whispered against his ear.
Deep growl sending shivers he isn’t not able to suppress down his spine. He is not supposed to react like this, isn’t supposed to feel anything beyond the excitement of finally moving a step in the right direction. The job is more important. Always would be as it seemed.
“Sammy?” Low voice still close but directed more towards him now. The word always gets to him.
There is a question hidden in that one word. More than one actually. Questions asking if he’s there, if he’s focused enough, if he’s ready. He doesn’t know the answer to any of them. But he is glad that at least one of them had their mind on the task. He swallows, feels guilty for slacking and blinks once, twice to focus himself again.
“Am with you. Just thinking about what to do next. Can’t race them now,” he answers equally low and almost smiles when the fingers on his hip squeeze gently, showing support, grounding him somewhat as well.
“We’ll get close. Soon. Let’s watch for now, see what they want here, if we can get close. I want to know why they are back, why they are daring to risk so much. It’s not like they don’t know we are looking.”
The hand is gone from his hip before he could say something, feels the loss though, mourns it even. He lets himself fall back against the hood of the car behind him, feeling the cooled down metal underneath him and then just watches.
The night is hot, sticky even. It’s been like this for days and he wants nothing more but to be done with this week. They’ll have one or two days to make themselves relax. Just a bit of time to get out and tank some much needed energy. He wants to go to the beach, dunk himself in the coolness of the ocean and just forget for a while.
It feels like he’s been doing this for too long already. His mind is a place where he doesn’t like to spend time at but usually slips and hides himself away there. Sometimes he wonders if he’s still able to see the lines, to see where one part of his life ends and the other begins. It hasn’t been an easy distinction for a long time now. But at least he isn’t alone. He knows he isn’t.
The lights of the cars, under-body ones as well as regular headlights, illuminate the track with different varieties of colors in addition to the orange glow of the street lights. It’s loud, engines humming, people laughing, talking, and shouting. Music drowns on, reaches him from several corners. It’s a maze of bodies, artificial and human, bundled together for just one purpose, the highlight of the evening. Adrenaline is tangible in the air, the atmosphere charged with it, making he feel dizzy and elated at the same time.
It always gets to him now.
They have been in the scene for so long now that this actually feels like a part of his life. The cars, the engines he can name and detail and drool over; the lights and additions that aren’t exactly legal but still aren’t what he’s after and get a nod of approval every time he comes across something new or something he likes.
The cars are just an additional bonus anyway. It’s not why they are here; it’s not what they are looking for. The street racing circus is so varied but still so closed off that it took them three years to get settled into it without raising any eyebrows or provoking any questions, subtle or not. It’s still not the circus, the drivers or machines they want. It’s the jobs on the side, the darker deals that go down almost everywhere along the tracks, the parties, they want to get close to.
The blue car stands across from him, dark and enticing. It’s a beauty, at least he thinks so. He knows someone who wouldn’t approve and a glance to his left shows him he’s right. He almost smiles at the vague look of disgust on his partners face. It’s really kind of funny.
He looks back at the car, wonders if he missed the owners getting out of it and squints to figure out what kind of additions where added since the last time he saw it. He’d love to get his hands on it, to look under the hood and maybe even drool a little over the engine. It must be something really nice.
“See something you like?”
Deep voice from behind him and he doesn’t jump. But he flinches a little and instinctively draws closer to the body on the other side of him. He feels it tense up and knows the situation is being assessed.
“Guess so. Interested in it?”
There is a laugh, it sounds anything but humorous. He shivers again.
“Nah. Not anymore.”
And that’s a surprise. Because they know who this car belongs to. Should know it anyway, since they’ve been following it over half the continent for months now. But there’s never been anyone else connected to it but the two girls currently driving it. He feels like he’s missed something and he doesn’t like that at all. He chances a look to his left and yeah, he’s not the only one not liking those kind of new information at all.
He raises his eyebrows at the guy, takes him in for the first time and has to admit that there is something about him. Shaved head, darker complexion, something rough and ragged but still smooth somehow. The body is impressive, that much he sees. And there isn’t much open to assumption anyway, wife beater and jeans, standard look for some of the racers. The voice alone is commanding, emits an aura of authority.
“Long story. Let’s just say I’m surprised it’s still driving around,” the guy answers the question that wasn’t asked but had been clearly hanging in the air.
So he nods, relaxes back against the hood and goes back to watching things. He waits for the next thing to happen, knows it will come. The guy isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is. Or he really doesn’t want to be.
“I like what I see, though.”
This time it’s both of them that react. The body close to him tenses even more, draws itself up to his full height and he just lets himself stay back and blink at the guy. It’s usually better for him not use his height in situations like this and using his innocent eyes always somehow works.
As it does this time. Well his eyes and his partner posturing like a mad man. One of these days he really has to tell him that it looks ridiculous.
The guy holds his hands up in a placating gesture but the tension is still there.
“Relax man, was talking about the Dodge here,” the smirk is evident in the words and he’s mentally preparing himself for the face the guy will be pulling once his partner opens his big mouth. They have a reputation to hold up.
“Sincerely hope you do. My brother isn’t up for sale, dude.”
And once again he wants to laugh at the stunned looked that crosses the face in front of him. Yeah, it’s always the same. No one ever figures them out even though almost everyone around knows who they are.
“Okay. Good to know.” The guy shrugs but it’s far from nonchalant and he knows they rattled him a little just there.
He breathes in, stale, hot air and something else. The tension is still there, still ready about to explode and he doesn’t know how to dissolve it. This is usually the moment where a cute little brunette swaggers by and snatches his partner away. Not so this time.
“Uh… Dean? I think he gets it. Thanks for totally humiliating me in front of a stranger by the way.” It’s what they do, play their roles and wait for reactions.
The guy looks at Dean with interest now and he guesses their reputation is still running strong. He gets his confirmation a second later.
“Dean? Like in Dean Winchester?”
....
