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I have 3 4 5 stories I really need to finish and my muse has completely and not unsurprisingly... abandoned me like a used candy wrapper on the side of the road.
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write3 4 5 as many as I can squeeze out before I actually get my mojo back and start writing what I'm supposed to be writing.
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
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Hi, new fan of your work. And I totally understand the abandoning muse. :)
So, how 'bout post Cast A Long Shadow (http://kellifer-fic.livejournal.com/203049.html#cutid1)? Like Sarah and one of the 66 seals?
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Jess stands, exasperated, at the end of his bed. The focus of his exasperation is sprawled in an untidy heap of limbs and shaggy hair right in the middle and hasn't moved despite Jess's very valiant efforts to be as noisy as possible as he got ready.
"I can be ready in twenty seconds flat, believe me," a voice opines. Sam's arm is thrown as flimsy defense over his eyes as Jess snaps the bedroom curtains wide and sun bleeds into the room. "So leave me alone for four minutes and forty seconds."
"You've just used up your four minutes arguing for your four minutes," Jess points out, jiggling a foot that is temptingly exposed to the air. It disappears under the blankets as soon as the gentle jiggle turns into a scraping of nails on the arch.
"You're mean," Sam announces, finally levering himself upright. He pokes out his tongue and Jess has to bite down on his lip to hold in the laughter because Sam is six-foot-plus of scarred, lean behemoth and he resembles a petulant six year old if he doesn't get to sleep in. Jess had asked Sam about it once and Sam had just said something cryptic about catching up.
How he'd had to always beat even the birds out of bed when he was younger.
Jess, who never arose from his coma before two in the afternoon between the ages of fourteen and nineteen was aghast at the very prospect and so more often than not cut Sam a little slack.
Not today though. Today it mattered if they were late because like the dink town it was, there was only one bus that actually managed to arrive in Stars Hollow per day that left from a real city.
Jess restrained himself from reminding Sam, very loudly and with wet willies for emphasis that it was Sam who wanted to visit his "hometown". Sam, who had gotten inexplicably but endearingly excited at the very idea of Stars Hollow.
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Um, how about Big Brother!Dean at the end of things. *nods* That'll do.
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What happens next on The Skin Horse?
And hey, if these things help, there's always doll!Dean... ;) (Dude, Doll!Bobby and doll!Impala!)
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I haven't been able to find anything Lorne/Novak lately and you write them so well!
And on the matter of up for grab icons of Justin Long, you might be able to find some at this website if you know something he's in.
http://community.livejournal.com/_fandom_icons_/
Good luck with the muse... they are such sneaky creatures at times!!
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Actually, kill is too neat a word for what he's planning to do because hey, come meet me brother, we'll have breakfast is so far outside what this experience has been that Matt well and truly has to plan torture as well as killing with lots of sharp and uncomfortable items.
He swallows hard and looks back across at the man sitting opposite him.
Dean had been some kind of abstract thought all the time that Matt had known Sam. Some kind of ideal, one-side of a phonecall but not a real person. The actual Dean is glaring at Matt while he works methodically through three different breakfast specials, looking like he wants to stab Matt through the eye with his fork.
Sam has been at the counter for ten minutes, flirting with the waitress and Matt is going to hang, draw and quarter him.
"So, are you Sam's boyfriend or whatever?" Dean asks, not bothering to finish the pancake he's mauling to death before shoving bacon in his mouth on top of it. Matt had always thought that after John, no one would be scary but Dean is...
Dean is flat out terrifying.
"No, it's not like that," Matt starts to say but jerks when Dean slams his fork on the table, sharp tines upright.
"Why the hell not? My Sammy not good enough for you?" Dean demands, something proprietary in his tone and murderous in his look.
Matt has no earthly idea how to answer that question without giving Dean a reason to leap the table and strangle him to death.
He and Sam have sex. It's nice and transitory and if Sam were able to stay still for all of five goddamn minutes then maybe Matt would like it to go somewhere else but at the moment, Matt knows it's impossible. Matt fights the urge to look over his shoulder and see if Sam is stalling on purpose just to mess with him.
"I like him," Matt offers, hoping it's enough to put off his execution.
"Jesus Christ, Andie Walsh," Dean snorts. "Who knew Sam was a lesbian?"
"Wha-?"
"Y'know," Sam says, sliding into the booth on Matt's side and dropping an arm over his shoulder. "I might just tell Janey over there to forget about the free pie if you're going to be such an asshole."
"Pie?" Matt and Sam both say at the same time with identical bright expressions and then look at each other.
Dean rolls his eyes and looks back at his breakfast but for just a minute, Matt thinks that maybe he's edged away from certain doom.
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Also?
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Errr. Do you want anything more specific?
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Aargh, that means I need to get my add-on renewed... I need my 114 icons back!