actionreaction: ([characters] reid)
As part of a yearly tradition with [personal profile] yabamena, we write each other drabbles for the 12(+1) days of Christmas. Day 13: More surprise fanfic! This is also the bonus day, and the last day ;_; SADS. Anywhere here. Have some Covenant fic.

If there was one thing everyone knew about Reid Garwin it was that he was a reckless skirt-chaser. He took chances none of the other sons of Ipswich would -- not even Pogue -- and flirted with every attractive girl who passed by. He went through relationships like he went through tissues and considering he was a young man with a healthy sex drive, he went through a lot of both.

Your Breath Fills My Lungs )
actionreaction: photo of ezra miller wearing a black hat, smiling slightly ([characters] corvus)
As part of a yearly tradition with [personal profile] yabamena, we write each other drabbles for the 12(+1) days of Christmas. Day 4: Corvus bound by a sorcerer who can command him into raven form. Because of this bond, Corvus doesn't remember much of his past, Then he meet Mars. Now he's strugglng to break free and at the same time, protect Mars from this same sorcerer.

Christmas was one of the things Corvus struggled to remember. It came to him in scents: pine, peppermint, apple-cinnamon, burning logs, sugar cookies, and roasted chestnuts. It was flashes of memory: torn paper, laughter, screams of delight, falling snow -- though sometimes he remembered rain and warmer skies instead -- and faces he could never quite focus on. Christmas was feelings he clung to: warmth, love, cheer -- things he hadn't had in too many years to count.

Christmas memories )
actionreaction: close cropped photo of steven strait as caleb in the covenant ([characters] caleb)
I have been looking for this since last week to post here. I worte it a while ago but for some reason it never made it into my writing journal. Covenant fic, Caleb/Pogue, rated soft R I guess?

The streets of Ipswich were imprinted in Caleb’s mind, with a definitiveness shared by all four sons of Ipswich. It was their home, the place made theirs - not just their whole lives, but their ancestors’ as well, for generations. They played out like a rural map in Caleb’s mind, and if it wouldn’t lead to Pogue insisting he watch the road, Caleb could drive them with his eyes closed. Barring the occasional semi.

The streets of Cambridge were new, needed to be learned. It wasn’t far from Ipswich, but it was far enough that it wasn’t quite home. Maybe not yet, maybe not ever. But they were new, and it would take time to learn them even half as well as they knew Ipswich.

But it was neither the streets of Ipswich nor of Cambridge that held Caleb’s focus. It was the map of Pogue’s body, lines and roads he both knew so well and not at all that he strove to drive now. He mapped them with his eyes, his hands, his fingers, his tongue. He tasted the remains of chlorine on mostly dry skin. He felt tight muscles under that smooth and taut skin. He saw every turn, curve, angle, and line that made Pogue’s body a city to discover all on its own.

His mouth covered Pogue’s when he finally drove home, the sounds he made swallowed whole, and more satisfying than a thousand nights’ driving in Ipswich or Cambridge combined. The power in him rose to meet Pogue’s when legs wrapped around his waist and he knew it didn’t matter where he was, where he drove.

Pogue’s body held the streets that would always lead him home.

I'm sick so I'm impressed i managed to find something to post here at all today. Also I just realized I completely forgot last Monday's post so I posted this and backdated.
actionreaction: photo of pharrell williams leaning back, smirking slightly ([characters] blaise)
I started this a very long time ago, and then fell out of the fandom so I abandoned it. I just dug it back up while looking for something to post here and realized I'd very much like to get back to it. This is a Harry Potter/Beauty and the Beast crossover I started writing for [personal profile] yabamena Back in the Before Time. Maybe I'll be able to finish it sometime now that I've since poked my head back into HP.

Once upon a time there was a handsome prince. )

Um yeah so if Draco's Beauty in this scenario, Blaise is the Beast. I remember some vague intentions about this and I really need to get back to it. Especiallys ince Blaise/Draco is one of my fave pairings and Beauty and the Beast is one of my fave fairy tales.
actionreaction: photo of michael obiora, looking down and smiling ([characters] dean)
And the last of the [community profile] fandom_stocking which catches me all up on posting daily! This one was for [personal profile] jengeorge.

Seamus is still in the laughing stage of his drinking when Dean joins him. Small as he is, Seamus's tolerance is incredible and Dean doesn't really drink much so it doesn't take him long at all to catch up, especially not when Seamus is plying him with wine.

Seamus gets giggly when he's drunk but Dean gets handsy when he's had wine, so it's a good thing they decided to leave when Dean can't keep his hands off Seamus's rear. It makes a difference how bold Dean gets, based on what he drinks. Seamus prefers whiskey, obviously, but wine goes right to Dean's head. Heads, maybe, and that thought makes Seamus giggle again.

It was an accident, the first time. Seamus had heard somewhere that a drink of alcohol was supposed to help boost creativity and Dean was in a bit of an artistic slump. Seamus didn't know much about wines and he picked at random. Dean received a rich, full-bodied cabernet and the only canvas he wound up painting on that night was Seamus's skin.

Tonight's even better though because Dean's had more than a few drinks and Seamus is right there with him. Neither of them attempts the smallest bit of magic to help them get home and once they're there, it's giggles, fumbling fingers, and sloppy kisses. After tonight, Seamus decides he's keeping wine in the house, just in case Dean needs some more inspiration.


Jan. 10th, 2013 12:49 pm
actionreaction: photo of michael obiora, looking down and smiling ([characters] dean)
Another [community profile] fandom_stocking fic, this one for [personal profile] carolinecrane. Short one.

Dean's hands are large. His fingers are long, his palms wide rectangles. His grip around a paint brush is gentle but firm. When Seamus watches him paint, he's not watching Dean's art come to life on the canvas. He's watching Dean's elegant fingers wrapped around that brush, watching how he holds it, watches how he's so careful and so precise, like he knows his hands could snap the brush easily. The way he works, so intent and focused, leaves Seamus slightly breathless because it's not long before he's picturing those hands on his skin. He pictures Dean's fingers wrapped around his cock, not a paintbrush, his grip strong and sure.

Seamus is quick to admit he loves Dean's hands and the way he focuses on them during sex is admission enough. He sucks Dean's fingers before he sucks him off, licks them clean after he's spilled himself in Dean's hand. In fact, Seamus takes any excuse to get Dean's fingers in his mouth.

Seamus snaps out of his reverie to find Dean setting down his paintbrush. In fact, he's coming over to him and using those amazing hands to tug Seamus out of the room and down the short hall to their bedroom. Seamus wonders if Dean can read his mind and he actually whimpers when Dean slides his long fingers into Seamus's mouth. There's traces of non-toxic paint still on them but Seamus doesn't care; it just makes him suck harder, like he can't possibly get enough.

In the blissful moments after, Seamus draws little designs on Dean's hands where they lay on his stomach and smiles before he falls asleep.
actionreaction: photo of pharrell williams leaning back, smirking slightly ([characters] blaise)
Annnnnd this wasn't what I intended to write when I started out with this pairing, but I like writing Blaise feels because he makes it so hard to tell he has them.

Blaise watched Draco sleep and he knew it was only his years of cultivated silence and stealthiness that allowed him to go undetected. Even so, Draco had become such a light sleeper that Blaise didn't stand a chance watching him for long.

If he'd known everything, all that Draco faced in sixth year and beyond, things might have gone differently. Blaise considered it his greatest intellectual failure that he didn't know Draco's wasn't making his own decisions then, that he hadn't chosen his path. It was his own greatest failure, a bitterness on his lips, his tongue, his mind. He failed to know and Draco paid the price.

If he'd known, he wouldn't have stayed impassive, withdrawn, uninvested. As it was, it was difficult enough to watch Draco go down a path Blaise didn't want for him, not realizing Draco didn't want that path himself. Draco hadn't wanted to be a Death Eater, not once that he knew what it was like. But he was paying for his father's failure, and there was no way out.

A string of failures surrounded the mess, and as Blaise exhaled slowly, Draco stirred. He didn't wake, not yet, and Blaise frowned. Draco's skin was finally regaining its healthy pallor, the porcelain Malfoy skin he so longed to mark and claim. It wasn't the sickly, prison-induce paleness inflicted on him by Azkaban, but that was only on the surface. Remnants, scars, and memories of Azkaban ran deep and Draco would remember them for many years to come.

Blaise spent years of his own cultivating a plan, one that could not be traced back to him, one that freed Draco, and one that would get him his revenge. Soon, he thought. Not soon enough.

If he'd known, things would be different, he was certain. But he had no idea if they would be any better.
actionreaction: profile/side photo of dudley o'shaughnessy ([characters] jd)
Yes this is titled after and inspired by Maroon 5's One More Night. It crawled into my brain today and refused to leave until I wrote this.

Their fights are spectacular.

Her voice starts out smooth and slow like warm honey on sweet bread, hot from the oven. It rises, sharpens, tightens and coils like a snake, pierced and poised and ready to strike. It reaches fever pitches, intense and lashing, cutting like a blade tied to the end of a whip: unnecessarily sharp.

His starts out even, cool, and then deepens in intensity. It grows colder, distant, detached and removed even as he burns with suppressed anger. It softens, quiets, freezes, and with anyone but her, turns mocking and cruel. With her, it's guarded even until the height of emotion, when it's ripped open and laid bare.

Their fights are spectacular and they are frequent.

They go to war weekly, years of repressed emotions spilling out of them both. They fight, they leave, and always, they come back. They're dysfunctional, but they're each others'.

Their fights are specular and the make-up sex after each one is even more so.

Her voice still starts slow and smooth like honey and still works up to a fever pitch. It breaks on a high note when she clings to him, riding him hard, red nails digging into his skin, red lipstick smeared everywhere, imprinted like tattoos.

He is still ripped open and is laid bare before her, over her, under her, whether he's pinned her down or she's pinned him, with hips and hands and vicious bites. They mark each other, they own each other, and in their way, they love each other.

Their fights are spectacular and neither of them keep score. Margot knows and JD knows - when they fight, they both lose. When they make up, they both win.
actionreaction: close cropped photo of steven strait as caleb in the covenant ([characters] caleb)
So this is actually a WIP. It came out of nowhere and I don't know where it's going but we'll see :D

It all changed when Chase showed up. )
actionreaction: photo of samantha harris, aboriginal model, leaning back and smiling slightly ([characters] lela)
This came out super sweet.

There was something special about the first Christmas together. It wasn't just a tree. It was their tree. It wasn't just decorating the house, it was decorating their home. It wasn't just Christmas, it was Christmas together.

Now that all the company parties, the quodpot galas, the fashionable extravaganzas and all the it parties were over - at least until New Year's - it was just Marco and Lela home from midnight mass curled up around each other in their bed in the wee hours of Christmas morning. Tomorrow (really later today) they'd be visiting Lela's family for lunch and Marco's for dinner, and bringing home so many leftovers, Lela wouldn't have to cook the rest of the week, except just for some variety.

But later was still hours away and when Lela's fingers danced over Marco's chest and his buried themselves in her hair, sleep was hours away too. They only had a few more of those hours to be alone together and sleep wasn't highest on their list.

Before she drifted off wrapped in Marco's arms, her long legs tangled in his, Lela knew that this was her favorite Christmas yet, because it was theirs.
actionreaction: photo of michael obiora, looking down and smiling ([characters] dean)
This is the first of 13 Days of Xmas fics I'm writing for [personal profile] yabamena. This one was yesterday's! (They will run from Dec 24th to Jan 6th). It's another Dean/Seamus from Harry Potter ficlet.

Christmas in the Finnigan-Thomas household meant several things: Dean was cooking, his dark brown artistic hands creating a masterpiece on a plate instead of on a canvas. It also meant Seamus was singing loudly and off-key as he finished hanging ornaments, one too many whiskeys under his belt. "'S bollocks," he replied loudly, when Dean mildly mentioned that fact, and Dean laughed because Seamus wasn't arguing that he'd been drinking quite a bit; he was arguing the fact that there was any such thing as one too many.

Tomorrow they'd be at the Thomas's first, Dean wincing at the teasing his sisters dished out, and Seamus telling jokes that made Dean's stepfather laugh until he choked, slapping Seamus on the back as he did. Then later at Seamus's mum's place for another large meal, a lot of alcohol and Dean wondering which Finnigan could out drink the other.

But they say Christmas Eve is for lovers and that meant tonight was for them alone. Their first Christmas together had been nerves and awkwardness, trying to transition from best mates to lovers. Every one thereafter had been easy in comparison.

Dean set the pudding down on the table and watched as Seamus placed a bell as high as he could reach, singing in Gaelic and shaking his rear as he hit the chorus. Dean's heart swelled so big he thought it might just burst and his tone was loving and fond as he called Seamus over to eat.

Tomorrow they'd be surrounded by family, but tonight all they had and wanted was each other.
actionreaction: text: we do not write because we want to. we write because we have to. [Somerset Maugham] ([quote] we write because)

To Kiss Your Scars )

Ow, right in every single feel I have. Not like I'm not hormonal enough today. I didn't even intend to write this today. It just fell out of me and nearly made me cry at work.
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (blaise)
I never posted this back when I wrote it. It was for a now-closed HP game, the same one I wrote the Cade/Angie story for. This one involves Blaise Zabini and something he truly enjoyed setting into motion.

Didn't see that coming. )
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (jordan)
I know it's been a while. Most of the writing I've been doing have been for actual full-length novels, which I won't be posting here. I'm trying to actually finish something full-length, but sometimes narratives help.

This was written for a character in an American-set Harry Potter game. He's coming to terms with his sexuality and explaining to his younger brother about it. It's a very big step for this character so I had to write this up.

Out of the broom closet. )
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)
The next [ profile] bb_shousetsu story is themed sports, in honor of the Olympics. I have a character whose life is football and his boyfriend and I'll be writing about him.

Here's the problem: I know next to nothing about football. So not only do I need to talk to a good friend to get the appropriate slang and terminology, I also need research.

So, links!

Granny Nat.

Aug. 6th, 2005 12:39 pm
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)
I don't really remember writing this. It's not slash if that's what you were looking for. For those of you who were hoping for something besides slash for once, here you go.

Granny Nat )

No, I have no idea where I'm going with this.
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (blaise)
Here is is. My very first slash fic. Blaise/Draco, set in second year, during Chamber of Secrets. Totally PG, but laying in groundwork.

First Impressions )

This was written as a challenge for the now-closed Coil Archive. The words I had to use were: sharp, apple, smoke, chew, simmer, wail, wolf, extinguish, chilly, angle, break, mirror, hunt, pull and stone. The theme was "firsts."


actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)

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