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14 October 2011 @ 08:45 pm
five acts meme - round five  
Or: while I NEVER have time for this, in theory, I'll never pass on it. BRING IT ON.

+ Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom of your post, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
+ Read other people's lists; the master list of lists is here.
+ Post comment-fic based off of other people's interests.

Or: the ones that never change plus some new entry.

1) crossdressing: or, bulletproof kink never gets switched. Mostly favorite when it's men wearing female clothes (or underwear) but I'll really take anything, any degree.

2) consensual d/s: other bulletproof kink that will never not be on the list. Give me some fully/entirely consensual d/s and I'll love you forever. I don't care if it's some 24/7 thing or not, I don't care if it's sexual or not. If it's sexual, as long as long as animals aren't involved, feel free to go as far as you want.

3) rescue: shiny new entry! Take it literal or not (people might also need to be rescued metaphorically!), that's all good with me. Extra bonus points for men being the damsels in distress if you go for a het pairing, but really, just go for anything. And if the rescued person gets some h/c in the bargain it's even nicer. ;)

4) touching: stolen straight from that list: stroking and caressing; cuddling or nuzzling; huddling for warmth; hugging; holding hands in public; touching as UST; brief brushes of contact either deliberate or accidental; PDAs; thighs brushing under a table; comic physical entanglements; someone gripping a wounded character's hand. Yes, that was thorough, but any of that is fair game.

5) Western scenarios and fetishization: cowboy gear; campfire and trail scenes; horses; gunslingers, lawmen, card sharps, etc; train robberies and bank hold-ups; posses; saloon brawls. Well, since that list decided that it's a proper kink and I have one the size of John Wayne's filmography, this. AU, dress-up, people quoting western movies, it's all good. Extra bonus points if Clint Eastwood is mentioned.

Lost: Jack/Boone, Desmond/Sayid, Jack/Sawyer, Boone/Charlie, any combination of Jack/Sawyer/Sayid/Boone, Desmond/Penny, Jack/Juliet, Daniel/Desmond, Richard/Miles, Frank/anyone and Jacob/Richard are my favorites, but I'm of open views. I'm not too big on Jack/Kate, Sawyer/Kate or Sawyer/Juliet (and on Locke and Ben shipped), but if it's set after the finale I'm okay with first and third.
Supernatural: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Sam/Castiel, Dean/Sam, Sam/Castiel (yeah, I totally have imagination), Ash/Andy, Ash/Pamela, actually Ash/everyone, Dean/Jimmy, Castiel/Jimmy (hell, Dean/Cas/Jimmy is totally awesome too). Chuck/Becky, as long as he isn't God. Though, if Bobby/Crowley strikes your fancy... well, why not XD also Castiel/Balthazar and Dean/Castiel/Balthazar.
The Dark Tower series: Roland/Eddie (I could give a kidney for Roland/Eddie, actually. *hints*), Cuthbert/Alain, Roland/Eddie/Susannah.
A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones: Jaime/Brienne, Sandor/Sansa, Jon/Sam, Theon/Robb, Theon/Asha, Jon/Robb.
Good Omens: Crowley/Aziraphale, Newt/Anathema if you're feeling bold.
Chuck: Chuck/Bryce, Ellie/Awesome, Jeffster. Platonic or not, as you want. XD
Hawaii 5-0: Steve/Danny.
Deadwood: Jane/Joanie, Sol/Trixie.
The Three Musketeers (still hopeless but I try!): Athos/d'Artagnan, Porthos/Aramis, Rochefort/Richelieu (come on, OTP!). Also friendship and not-slash is awesome.
The Vampire porn Diaries: Damon/Alaric, Damon/any male character that isn't Jeremy or Tyler, Damon/John/Alaric and any combination thereof. Damon/Stefan/Alaric would be kinda awesome, too. Then, Damon/Stefan, Tyler/Caroline, Jeremy/Tyler, Jeremy/Bonnie, Stefan/Elena/Damon, Tyler/Caroline/Matt, Stefan/Elena.
Sirens: Ash/Stuart, Ash/Stuart/Rachid.
Sherlock: Lestrade/anyone except Moriarty though Lestrade/Sherlock is preferred.
Leverage: Parker/Hardison, Parker/Sophie, Eliot/Hardison, Eliot/Parker/Hardison.
Six Feet Under: David/Keith, Nate/Brenda.
Friday Night Lighs: Tim/Jason, possibly set before S2.
Watchmen: Daniel/Rorschach.
Maurice: Maurice/Alec.

fills I wrote;
1. spn, dean/castiel, the backseat, apocalypse/clothes sharing/kissing/cars, pg13, for pann_cake;
2. asoiaf, sandor/sansa, crush, angst/proximity, pg13 for lenina20;
3. asoiaf, jaime/brienne (untitled), love at first punch/quick, rushed/adrenaline, nc17-ish for lenina20;
4. spn, balthazar/castiel (untitled), tattoos/endearments, pg13 for toestastegood;
5. asoiaf, jon/sam (untitled), touching/light scar kink, r-ish for ozmissage
6. dark tower, roland/eddie-ish, apocalypse/friendship/hc-ish/confessions, pg13 for raikune;
7. spn, dean/cas + sam, angst/outsider POV/touching, pg13, for joyyjpg
8. vampire porn, damon/alaric, here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist, touching/kissing, nc17 for haldoor
9. spn, dean/cas, superhero AU + sorta unusual partners/supposed taboo relationship plus implied inexperience plus h/c, pg13 for princess_aleera

fills I received;
1. Pinned; SPN, Dean/Cas, R; d/s and touching by pann_cake
2. [sharp steel and strong arms] |asoiaf, sansa/sandor + rescue | pg-13 by lenina20
3. Just A Tip Of the Hat, Watchmen, Daniel/Rorschach, Western AU by toestastegood
4. Fucking Perfect; SPN, Dean/Cas/Balthazar, D/S, touching and a bit of rescue by princess_aleera
5. Holding On (PG; Dean/Sam, Dean/Castiel, pre-D/S/C?) touching, kinda rescue by wandersfound
6. a world entirely our own, ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, pg-13, touching/rescue, by ozmissage
7. And After All, You're My Wonderwall, vampire porn, Tyler/Matt, rescue, PG by tellshannon815
8. Catalyst, TVD, Damon/Alaric, R, Western themes, rescue, by haldoor
feeling: excitedexcited
on rotation: commercials on the radio. very exciting..
upupa_epops: [tvd] Caroline Forbesupupa_epops on October 14th, 2011 08:52 pm (UTC)
OMG, this is exactly what I needed tonight!

*runs to make a list*
Pan: SPN- tie fixpann_cake on October 15th, 2011 03:28 am (UTC)
Pinned; SPN, Dean/Cas, R; d/s and touching
(Because these boys and these prompts were too good to pass up. Hope you enjoy it, hun!)

Dean likes to be in control, he’s not too proud to admit that. When it comes to sex he likes to think that he’s seen it all and done it all, and he’s always been the one to call the shots.

That is, until he started sleeping with an angel. Because Castiel, it turns out, is strong. Freakishly strong. Dean knew this when they started, but he couldn’t help but be surprised the first time he was on the receiving end of it. Cas can hoist Dean up like he weighs nothing, pin him against the wall and have his way with him.

The freakish thing is that Dean kind of likes it, which he is too proud to admit.

Cas is looming over him in the bed, stark naked, and Dean is pinned. Cas has Dean’s arms up over his head, his hands clamped on Dean’s wrists, his weight pressing Dean into the mattress. Dean cannot move an inch, and it shouldn’t be this much of a turn on, but he’s already hard and Cas hasn’t even touched him yet.

He pushes his hips up, not to struggle but to get some friction. Cas lets him, lets Dean thrust up a few times. The slide of skin against skin makes a small moan escape Dean, and the corner of Cas’s mouth twitches just a little.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Dean smirks. “You sick bastard.”

Cas exhales a laugh before pressing Dean back down. Dean would normally give in by now, cry Uncle and let Cas do what he wants. But Cas is looking a little smug, and Dean can’t let him win that easily. Not when he can feel how hard Cas is, pressed against Dean’s belly.

But Cas, too, knows the game by now. “What is it you want, Dean?” he murmurs, leaning down to breathe into Dean’s ear.

Dean tries not to shiver. “Nothin’.”

Cas moves to Dean’s neck, mouthing over his pulse point. “Tell me.”


Then Cas starts to play dirty, pulling Dean’s arms further over his head. He leans down as if to kiss him, his mouth hovering so close that Dean can feel Cas’s breath on his own lips. When Dean tilts his chin up, Cas pulls away, just out of reach. He just looks at Dean, hair tousled, skin flushed, that tiny smirk still in place. Irresistible.

Fine,” Dean sighs dramatically. “I want you to fuck me, you bastard.”

Cas smiles in victory, and Dean finds that he can’t even pretend to be mad about it. “Very well.”

He finally loosens his grip on Dean’s wrists, shifts them to hold both in one hand. His other hand ghosts over Dean’s skin until he hooks an elbow under Dean’s leg. He pauses to place a gentle kiss to Dean’s kneecap and Dean chuckles once.

Then his breath catches in his throat as Cas pushes inside, a maddeningly slow slide until Dean can’t take it and thrusts himself down. Cas gasps a little and they push back and forth for a few moments until finding their rhythm.

Eventually Cas forgets to hold Dean down. Dean’s not sure if he’s just won or lost, but as his hands slide into Cas’s hair he realizes that he’s cool with it either way.
the female ghost of tom joad: supernatural dean/cas point of no returnjanie_tangerine on October 15th, 2011 08:11 am (UTC)
Re: Pinned; SPN, Dean/Cas, R; d/s and touching

First thing: you get special bonus points because I've been using that prompt and that pairing for the every round and no one actually wrote it while they were actually doing it, so MANY THANKS FOR THAT.

Also: UNF. I'LL GO BACK TO MY BUNK. No seriously this is awesome. Cas in control = YES, Dean liking it = EVEN MORE YES, Cas not letting him move while being totally smug about it = I DIED, and the kneecap kiss and the hair touching and Cas being a tease and EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS I love it. Thank you so very much, I'm totally cuddling this fill to my chest or something. ♥ ♥ ♥
Re: Pinned; SPN, Dean/Cas, R; d/s and touching - pann_cake on October 16th, 2011 09:40 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Pinned; SPN, Dean/Cas, R; d/s and touching - janie_tangerine on October 17th, 2011 09:05 am (UTC) (Expand)
just the god of everything else: Sam: warriorprimarycolors92 on October 15th, 2011 07:32 am (UTC)
(I could give a kidney for Roland/Eddie, actually. *hints*)

It's like you know I'm short a kidney. Expect Roland/Eddie and possibly surprise! but-no-longer-a-surprise! Sam/Castiel.
the female ghost of tom joad: dark tower roland/eddiejanie_tangerine on October 15th, 2011 08:13 am (UTC)
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the female ghost of tom joad: asoif >> otpjanie_tangerine on October 15th, 2011 11:27 am (UTC)
Re: [sharp steel and strong arms] | sansa/sandor + rescue | pg-13 |


First: ending line = SO BRILLIANT. It might be my favorite single line of Sansa's ever (or in her POVs, whatever) and just PERFECT CLOSURE. But srsly omg ALL THE REST ALL MY FEELINGS. Sansa missing her direwolf. SANDOR'S DIALOGUE. (Like, omg yes that was some IC dialogue.) And she didn't let go on the coat. EVERYTHING IN THIS IS GLORIOUS. I love it and omg if only it had happened. Yeahright. This is perfect and I'm in love with it and OMG THANKS. <33333333 *goes re-reading*
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Shonatoestastegood on October 15th, 2011 09:45 pm (UTC)
Just A Tip Of the Hat, Watchmen, Daniel/Rorschach, Western AU [1/2]
Rorschach slams his fists down on the table, his scowling eyes glaring from above the blotched kerchief covering the rest of his face. "They need to die," he states, coolly logical in his certainty.

Sheriff Dreiberg glances down at Rorschach's clenched fists, which are still threatening to punch a hole through his desk. He manages not to sigh, but his shoulders slump all the same. He feels too old for this.

Through the windows, the late afternoon sun pierces through the dust and dirt. It's the kind of lazy heat that makes him want to close up shop and take the rest of the afternoon. There's nothing going on in town; there's too much going on in town. Crime bubbles in the darkness, but there's not much he can do about it. Behind his badge, he doesn't have the kind of freedom and power that he used to.

"That's not for us to decide," Daniel tells him. He fiddles with his shirt sleeves and is sure he can feel his collar strangling him. Better than Rorschach's fingers, he reminds himself. "I can't arrest them. There's no proof."

Rorschach's eyes stare at him, blank and unseeing. "Filth in the city. Must be washed clean," he rasps.

Daniel feels like a bug under Rorschach's gaze - like he might be exterminated at any moment. Only the pistol in its holster allows him to feel even marginally safe. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Law is useless," Rorschach insists. "Only the strong survive."

Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose. When he accepted the position as sheriff, he had no idea it would involve teaching morality to psychopaths. "Promise me you're not going to cause any trouble," he asks. "You can't do this."

Rorschach stares at him like he's seeing right through him. It makes Daniel want to squirm and hide, but he stays firmly in his chair, breathing softly. Meeting Rorschach's gaze is almost enough to make his eyes water, but he does it anyway - there's something that men like Rorschach respect about that level of contact.

Men like Rorschach. It's a joke to even pretend there is anyone else like him.

If there's a staring match, official or not, it's Rorschach that wins. Daniel breaks first, looking abruptly out of the window. "What happened to us?" he asks, the question spilling out before he can control it.

He can still remember what it had been like, once upon a time, when they had been young and idealistic - or when he had been young and idealistic, and Rorschach's broken madness had seemed enchanting rather than dangerous. They had run through this whole state together, protecting those needed protecting and delivering justice to those who deserved it most.

Now, he sits on his ass all day and pretends he still thinks he's useful.

Now, Rorschach thirsts for the red blood of vengeance - and he scares Daniel more than any of the thieves out there on the street.

When he looks back from the window, he thinks he even sees a flicker of emotion in Rorschach's eyes. He's glad that Rorschach doesn't try to respond: this is one instance where he thinks he doesn't want to hear the answer.


Overnight, the saloon burns down. Three men were trapped inside, and by the time Daniel sees the bodies they're unrecognisable. A headcount of the townspeople confirms who is missing: good men, all three of them.

A terrible accident.

Just an accident, Daniel tells himself, while he pretends that black blotches don't float behind his eyelids.

Shonatoestastegood on October 15th, 2011 09:46 pm (UTC)
Re: Just A Tip Of the Hat, Watchmen, Daniel/Rorschach, Western AU [2/2]
He comes home to hear the familiar sounds of Rorschach in his kitchen: maybe he should be afraid, he thinks. More afraid.

Yet he walks through the door without flinching, and finds a suspected vigilante sitting at his kitchen table eating stew like he hasn't seen any food in weeks.

"Help yourself," Daniel mutters sarcastically.

Rorschach doesn't even look up. "Been busy," he says around a mouthful of meat. "Nothing but beans out there."

Daniel bites his tongue: there's no use telling Rorschach to settle down in a nice town, to pick a place and get a regular job. Normal life has no place in it for someone like Rorschach. He imagines that Rorschach has no need for normality in turn.

"What happened last night?" Daniel asks, though he knows that the best thing for their friendship would be to hold his tongue - the sheriff's badge on his chest means that he has to speak up. "The saloon burned down."

"Bad men," Rorscach answers. He's taken off his face-covering in order to eat. The sight of his skin, pale and untouched by the sun, is as jarring as seeing him nude. "They needed to be stopped. I stopped them."

Daniel feels a headache coming on. "You can't go around - 'stopping' people. It's not right."

"They took a girl. Raped her. I saw it." Rorschach's grip on his fork is tight enough to make his hand shake. Daniel sees the bloodied knuckles and bruised skin and tells himself he doesn't care about it. "Deserved to die."

"That's not for you to decide," Daniel insists - but he's shaken, and he knows that it shows in his voice. The needlessly intelligent glimmer of Rorschach's eyes examines him like a snake evaluating its prey. "If you have any further suspicions, bring them to me. I'll deal with it. Rorschach, you murdered people."

Rorschach grunts. "They're not people," he answers.

It makes Daniel feel sick.

He takes a seat opposite Rorschach and rests his elbows on the thick wooden table. For a few long moments, the only sounds in the kitchen a loud slurping as Rorschach devours his stew.

Eventually, beneath the table, Rorschach nudges Daniel with his boot. "When I find more, I'll bring them to you," he promises.

From Rorschach, that's the equivalent of a marriage proposal. Despite himself, Daniel can't help but smile, before he gets to his feet once more and helps himself to a bowl of Rorschach's cooking.


Rorschach is long gone by the time the sun rises, but when Daniel rises from his bed alone he feels lighter and happier than he has in weeks.

When he makes it in to his office and opens the door, he nearly doubles over in laughter at the sight that greets him:

Three road agents, bound and gagged on the floor. Their hats are askew and bruises adorn their faces, while they are red with the effort of muffled shouting. Attached to one of their hands is a scrawled note:

You're welcome. Thanks for stew.

Daniel chuckles as he stares at his new prisoners, and wonders just what the letter of the law says about cooperation between lawmen and vigilantes.

Whatever it is, it's a start.
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ozmissage: GoT. Jaime/Brienne. he trusted me withozmissage on October 17th, 2011 08:02 pm (UTC)
a world entirely our own, ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, pg-13, touching/rescue (1/2)

On the long nights, cold and saddle-sore as she lies curled on the wet ground, she dreams of him, as he dreamed of her once. In her dreams Jaime is restored, sword in hand, his infuriating grin flashing in her direction. They fight, swords clashing, and in her dreams Brienne says, We are dancing.

She wakes alone, nothing in front of her but the lonely stretch of road and all the dangers it brings. She carries on for his honor and hers.


There is no honor in this.

He wants nothing more than to flee King’s Landing. To what end is he isn’t sure, but there is no place for him here, of that he is certain.

His white robe may as well be stained red.

Perhaps he could find the wench; vexing her would give him some small pleasure. She’s been gone from his sight for nearly a fortnight and she’s become like a second phantom limb (as if he needed another). Her absence is an itch he can not scratch.

In his dreams, she comes to him, broad hands reaching out to cup his chin.

For your honor, she whispers before fading into the early morning sunlight like a ghost.


When ambush comes, Brienne believes she is ready.

She doesn’t see the third man.

He takes her from behind, his sword slicing through her mail, sending a hot gush of blood spilling down her arm. Brienne whirls, stabbing one man and then the next, turning on the third before the first two hit the ground.

She kills them all. Three men slain on the road. The blade of her sword (his sword) drips red onto the hard, unforgiving earth.

With a shaky breath she sinks to her knees, ripping away the mail to inspect the damage that was done.

When she sees her wound, she winces.

The gash is too deep, the bleeding too severe. She staggers to her feet and takes one, two steps before she falls.


Jaime does not believe in magic.

He is not even certain he believes in the gods.

But when the noble wench, Brienne of Tarth, comes to him a second time, Jaime begins to wonder if their might be a bit of magic in the world after all.

He leaves his white robe, takes a sword and sets off on the fastest horse in the stable.

He leaves no note; he knows there is nothing he could say to make Cersei understand when he doesn’t understand his actions himself. He only knows that he must find her, that for him there is no other choice.


Fever takes hold on the third day.

Brienne knows that she is inside, but where?

She murmurs names and words, meaningless fragments: Renly and Have you seen my sister? and finally, Jaime, his name a lament on her tongue.

As if from far away she hears a woman’s voice, hush, child.

Then Brienne falls into a deep sleep without dreams.

ozmissage: GoT. Jaime/Brienne. he trusted me withozmissage on October 17th, 2011 08:05 pm (UTC)
Re: a world entirely our own, ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, pg-13, touching/rescue (2/2)
He sits by her bed, day and night, night and day, for a week.

Finding her was far too easy. For all that she thinks herself plain and ugly, Brienne of Tarth is not an easy woman to forget. Every villager he encounters on the road knows a tale of the woman knight and her quest to find her lost sister. Their chattering makes Jaime smirk; Brienne has become a legend with her lumbering approach to subterfuge.

He finds her in an inn four days out in the throws of a fever. The innkeeper, an elderly woman with sharp eyes tries to ply her with milk of the poppy, but Jaime puts the point of his sword to her husband’s throat and puts an end to that.

“You fight, wench,” he murmurs, squeezing her clammy hand with the only one he has left. “Do you think they’ll sing songs of a knight cut down by a common fever?”

Sometime in the night, on the seventh day of his vigil, Brienne squeezes his hand back.


“Jaime?” she asks and at the sound of her voice he smoothes the sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead without thinking. Brienne flinches from his touch and he feels an unexpected pang in his chest. She is not accustomed to tenderness. In truth, neither is he.

“It’s about time you came back to me, wench,” he says lightly. “My ass is tired of sitting on this chair. It bites worse than the Iron Throne.”

“Perhaps that means you aren’t meant to sit on it,” she replies, her voice thick and groggy and Jaime laughs.

“Was that a joke, Brienne? I didn’t think you capable.”

Her eyes close again and Jaime worries she’s drifting away from him.

“How did you find me?” she asks.

“Oh, you already know that. I call you wench, but I’m beginning to suspect witch would be more accurate.”

Her eyes open. They really are the most startling shade of blue.

“Maybe you’re the witch, Jaime,” she counters.

He knows a smile is playing on his lips as he leans forward to kiss her cheek. She looks wary, but this time she does not flinch from his touch.

“We can debate the point later, you need to sleep now. Sansa Stark won’t wait forever.”

“You want me to carry on?” she looks more stunned by that fact than by the kiss. “But I failed you.”

Jaime cups her chin firmly with his hand.

“You never could.”


She remembers the dream.

The last one she had before the fever and infection burned through her body, driving out thought and reason and dreams.

She was in King’s Landing, in his chambers, beside him on his bed. His body was warm pressed against hers, warm as it had been when they slept side by side on their journey.

Forgive me, ser, she whispered in his ear because she knew she could go on no more. The cold would take her, or the wound. She would die, taking his honor and hers along with her.

Stop haunting my dreams, he murmured, his lips pressed against her neck.

And she had smiled, for in dreams we can be the things we are not in life and in this dream, Brienne was in Jaime Lannister’s bed and she was glad.

I will now.


“A lie,” he tells her one day long after the road and Sansa and all the bloody battles for the throne.

The winter is upon them and magic has returned to the realm, along with the dragons and the white walkers, and the ghosts. The whole world is a song now. A terrible, dark song.

The whole world, but this small corner of it where Brienne of Tarth lies in Jaime Lannister’s arms and knows it is not just a sweet, strange dream.

“You don’t mind,” she replies quickly, confidently.

And Jaime nips at her bottom lip, for once not bothering to argue.


We are always dancing now, she thinks.

In the endless winter, she prays to the old gods and the new that they may never stop.
Creature Of Hobbit: tyler lockwoodtellshannon815 on October 17th, 2011 10:49 pm (UTC)
And After All, You're My Wonderwall, Tyler/Matt, rescue, PG
“You didn’t have to wait with me,” Matt mumbled as he waited for his name to be called, trying to ignore both Tyler and the pain in his arm. “Caroline’ll be here any minute.”

“No, I want to, man.” Tyler touched Matt’s good arm, willing his friend to at least look him in the eye. Matt pushed him off angrily.

“How did we get to this?” Tyler sighed, remembering all the years that the two of them had been best friends.

“I don’t know, Tyler. Maybe the way you treated my sister, then the way you made out with my mother, might have had something to do with it?”

“Remember how we met, back when we were in first grade?”

Matt smiled despite himself. “I remember. That kid from the grade ahead of us was trying to steal my lunch, and you pushed him over and he landed flat on his ass. What was his name again?”

Tyler shrugged. “Can’t remember. I think he moved away not long afterwards. But anyway, we started out with me rescuing you, but over the years, it was kind of like you rescued me. You know what a dick my dad is. Every time I needed to escape from him getting on my case, you were always there.”

Matt smiled ruefully. “You want to hear something weird? That’s how I used to think of you, too. I’ve only been on my own these last couple of weeks, but I may as well have been for most of my life. Mom was never there for me growing up, Vicki was a flake, I spent half my life taking care of them. But with you, I got to be a normal teenage guy again.”

Tyler sighed. “Is there any way we could ever get that back again?”

Matt looked like he was about to say something, but at that moment they were interrupted by Caroline, running frantically towards them.

“Caroline’s here now, you can go, man.”

“Don’t worry,” Caroline whispered as Tyler got up to leave. “I remember when Bonnie and I had an argument in ninth grade. Elena was despairing of us ever making up again at first, but we did. I hope you guys will too.”

Tyler hoped Caroline was right, but he was secretly worried that he and Matt were beyond hope of rescue.
the female ghost of tom joad: the vampire porn tyler/carolinejanie_tangerine on October 18th, 2011 07:38 pm (UTC)
Re: And After All, You're My Wonderwall, Tyler/Matt, rescue, PG
...... awwww, now I'm here wishing for the good old days when they were bffs and there hadn't been that so nice thing between Matt's mom and Tyler. (Seriously, Tyler, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING.) And AW the start of their friendship was so sweet. And everything else ;__; I'll be here hoping that Caroline is right. (She probably is. I'll be here believe that she can't be wrong even wanting XD) thank so much, I love it! :D
a geek in such the wrong way: vampire diaries-damonhaldoor on October 18th, 2011 04:53 am (UTC)
Catalyst; TVD, Damon/Alaric, R, Western themes, rescue
Be gentle, this is my first TVD fic! It's probably not quite what you've asked for, but I've had my eye on a scene that I wanted to fic somehow for ages, so I hope this works for you!

It's a strange thing, memory. It plays tricks on you, even if you normally have a good one, Damon thinks the first time he meets Alaric. His first impression is that he's a man Damon met about a hundred years ago, but then he decides it's unlikely, doppelgangers notwithstanding.

Although Alaric can't be the same man Damon once rescued from a stampede late one night as he was passing through the mid-west, Damon can't resist stirring him up every chance he gets. The idea of getting a reaction like that cowboy gave when Damon got him to safety - breathing harshly against his body and fanning his need for blood - gives Damon chills every time he looks at Ric. Damon remembers the cowboy baring his neck like he'd looked into Damon's eyes and been compelled, but it wasn't like that at all. It was like he knew what Damon was after and that he wanted it too. The sex that followed had been hot, intense, and rapid, but as fulfilling as the feeding that accompanied it.

Damon still recalls it all these years later, so whether it's memory playing tricks or it really was one of his best same-sex encounters, Damon still isn't sure. One thing he's convinced of though, is that sex with Alaric will be just as good, if he can get it to happen. He's tempted to just compel him, but there's no fun in that, and what's life without a few challenges?

In the end, it's Alaric rescuing Damon that's the catalyst. Technically, it's not a rescue, he supposes, and Damon's not quite a damsel in distress, but he's grateful for Ric's initiative in getting him out of a difficult spot. Alaric plunges the knife right through Elijah's chest like he was born to this kind of thing, and Damon finds himself heating up from the sight of it, unexpected as it is.

It's not long after they've taken the body downstairs and he's alone with Ric that he sees a familiar look in the man's eyes. He allows one side of his mouth to quirk up in what he knows is an arrogant smirk. If he'd realised that Alaric killing someone for him was all that was called for, perhaps he'd have arranged it sooner.
the female ghost of tom joad: the vampire porn damon/alaricjanie_tangerine on October 18th, 2011 07:49 pm (UTC)
Re: Catalyst; TVD, Damon/Alaric, R, Western themes, rescue
... please keep on writing fic for this fandom forever.

First: you totally ended up setting the ending during my Favorite Episode Ever, which was totally the cherry on top of the cake, but all the rest was AWESOME. You have Damon totally nailed down - I love that he doesn't want to compel Ric because there's no fun and that his reaction at the end is like 'oh, if I had known that him killing someone for me is what it takes to have scorching hot sex I'd have totally put myself in danger a lot earlier' xDDD it's such a Damon thing to think. *snort* also WELL WELL. NICE, DAMON, I like how you pick your partners. That about Alaric's not-doppelganger/western counterpart looking compelled but not really being it... WELL. *FANS* this was so absolutely good and I loved it, it definitely fits the bill. :DDD thank you!!!
joy: castiel & dean » i like it roughjoyyjpg on October 24th, 2011 04:14 am (UTC)
[laaattteee] spn, dean/castiel, nc-17 -- western fetishization, consensual d/s
I started out writing something entirely different, but it...didn't pan out, so instead you get porn. Or sort of porn, since I chickened out before the real porn got started because I am no good at this, so. ANYWAY, I hope you like and I'm sorry I fail at deadlines. Also: I set out for this to be a western AU but I can't decide if it actually is or if it's just a 6.18-themed fic. It's not specific to either one, so take it whatever way you like. And I don't even have a cowboy!Dean icon to use for this, I FAIL AT LIFE.

Dean tries to move his arms out of instinct more than any real desire to free himself. He knows he's not going anywhere and that's just fine by him, except that his hat has slipped down over his eyes and, while there's something to be said for the element of surprise, he likes to at least see what's coming.

He rattles the cuffs against the metal bars of the headboard to get Cas' attention. “A little help here,” he says, trying to peek underneath the brim. He hears Cas chuckle but nothing else, so he waits – and waits, and he starts to get a little impatient. “You gonna fuck me or you gonna leave me here all night?”

“I could,” Cas says, and Dean tries to follow the sound of his voice. He jerks his head, pressing back against the bars, hoping to pull his hat back just a little, just enough to see, but instead it slides forward even further. “I could leave you there.”

“You wouldn't.”

“How do you know?” Cas' voice is louder now, closer, coming from an entirely different direction, and Dean is going to be disoriented as hell if this goes on much longer.

“Cause if I thought you'd pull a dick move like that, I never would've let you tie me up.”

The touch comes out of nowhere – a hand on his chin, thumb brushing lightly across his lips. Dean shivers, breath catching, and when he tries to lean into the touch, Cas withdraws his hand. “Your trust is touching, Dean.”

“C'mon, Cas.” Dean tugs at the restraints again when he doesn't get a response, but there's still nothing. He strains his ears, trying to listen for anything that might indicate where Cas is or what he's doing, but the son of a bitch is stealthy. He's probably enjoying the hell out of this, watching Dean squirm, knowing that he's stuck there until Cas decides he's through fucking with him. That idea really shouldn't be as hot as it is.

Then, finally, the bed dips, springs creaking, and he can feel Cas move across the mattress. He's obviously taking special care not to touch Dean – dragging it out as long as possible, the fucking tease – and Dean's body twitches every which way, trying to find him.

“C'mon, don't be a --” The rest of Dean's sentence dies somewhere in his throat, turning into a choked off groan when there's suddenly a glorious, wet heat engulfing his half-hard dick. Cas sucks gently, tongue gliding along the underside. It's ridiculously good and Dean's fully hard before knows it. It's different from any other time they've done this; he can't see Cas' mouth on him – all he can do is feel. It's a little overwhelming at first, but he adjusts as Cas takes him deeper, one hand wrapped around the base of Dean's cock, the other lightly rubbing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

Of course, just when it starts to get really good, Cas pulls off and Dean's hips jerk up after him. The mattress dips again, this way and that, and Dean really has no idea what Cas is even doing. He's about to ask when suddenly he can see Cas, right in front of him, with a smug little smile on his lips, wet and red and a little swollen. He adjusts Dean's hat properly before leaning down to kiss him, slipping his tongue into his mouth, letting him taste himself there.

They part for air, foreheads pressed together, nearly knocking Dean's hat off but Cas catches it, holds it in place. He moves in closer, nudges Dean's thighs farther apart and settles in between them. Dean's hips move of their own accord, rubbing his cock against Cas' thigh, and he leans forward to mouth at Cas' jaw, nip at his bottom lip. “So, you done messing around or what?”

Cas gets a dangerous look on his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Maybe,” he says, and pulls Dean's hat back down over his eyes.
the female ghost of tom joad: supernatural dean 3.0janie_tangerine on October 24th, 2011 07:39 pm (UTC)
Re: [laaattteee] spn, dean/castiel, nc-17 -- western fetishization, consensual d/s


First I like the ambiguity a lot. It so totally fits both ways! And I like that it does. Also

“How do you know?” Cas' voice is louder now, closer, coming from an entirely different direction, and Dean is going to be disoriented as hell if this goes on much longer.

“Cause if I thought you'd pull a dick move like that, I never would've let you tie me up.”


Also the whole touching/not touching and Cas being like 'I appreciate your trust a lot' and being sneaky about it and CAS BEING A TEASE AND THE HAT BEING THE BLINDFOLD OMG OMG OMG *dies* and CAS PUTTING IT BACK IN PLACE, NNGH. ALSO THE LAST LINE - I'M TOTALLY IN SHORT CIRCUIT. This was just so delicious and the perfect amount of teasing and the only thing Dean sees between the beginning and the end is Cas's smug smile? OMG YES. I LOVE THIS AND ABSOLUTELY LOVE EVERYTHING IT CHOOSES TO BE OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I'M IN LOVE WITH IT <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 *clutches fic to bosom*

Edited at 2011-10-24 07:54 pm (UTC)