genre: rpf

3

Happy New Year! I’m happy we all got to ring in 2015 with a feast of J2 pics and it inspired me immensely when I came off my writing hiatus in December. Here are the three fics I wrote, collected in one post, to help you shake off the January doldrums. Enjoy!

Dream by the Fire
Jared and Jensen are getting ready to spend their first Christmas in Austin together and get a little sentimental and steamy in front of the fire.

#HappyHoHoHo
Jensen and Jared get ‘handsy’ after dressing up like Santa and Mrs. Claus at the annual Supernatural cast and crew Christmas Party.

Rocky Mountain High
Jared and Jensen are enjoying their time in Aspen, CO over New Year’s and Jensen indulges Jared’s love of his precious, perfect feet.

Mistaken Identity

“Don’t. Move.”

The voice is oddly familiar. The long fingers around your throat are just as familiar, and much less odd. Your pulse quickens with the surprise of feeling him behind you (you are certain he can feel your heart drumming beneath his hand) but your eyes slide closed. You follow his command, falling still and silent under his touch.

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some things that make RPF unique

[i’ve had this squirreled away in my drafts for awhile, but came across this fourth wall post today and then dug up these posts (x x x) and thus was inspired to publish.]

Moving into real people fandoms (Hockey RPF and One Direction) from literature and TV fandoms (Harry Potter, Lost, Merlin BBC) was an uncomfortable experience for me. A lot of my non-RPF fandom friends pestered me about how weird it seemed that I was shipping and writing and reading about actual human beings. Well, I assured them, they’re just characters to me so it feels just like any other fandom. 

In some ways, that’s true. But it’s also totally not. And the differences, while unsettling to consider carefully and in depth, are part of what make these fandoms so exciting! 

After turning them over for the last two and half years, I’ve decided that not only are these differences real and interesting, they’re also important to name, from an ethical standpoint.  So here’s a (far from comprehensive) list/essay. 

I’m gonna start with the most controversial and most significant: 

  • The ‘fourth wall’ does not exist. We’re not watching a play or reading a book. Our 'characters’ are not 'characters.’ They’re real people with their own subjectivity and agency and they live in the same universe we do. Even the strongest of our psychologically constructed barriers cannot separate them from us or our fanworks in reality. And, in fact, the assumption of a fourth wall can prevent us from having necessary conversations about what is and is not appropriate to post where and send to whom. 

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Recommended Reading

If any of you need some freebatch frottage to get you through your Monday, you’re in luck.

Sharing Blankets by keelywolfe

They’d been assured that it was tradition to camp out on the set at least once. All the crew from the first movie, even the actors, had informed them that it was true, we swear, must camp out with beer and sausages and blankets. It was a rule.

The Rules of This by yesrpfyes

Benedict and Martin giving each other hand jobs after being frustrated on set. 

“Dress Rehearsal” - Darren/Mia

Darren in fishnets, a skirt, and boots.  Pegging.  That’s it.  That’s the fic.

It’s not right after, though a part of him wants it to be.  

She’s out with friends, and he does six things in the space of time that it would take someone else to do one or two.  He’s just about to accept an invitation to drinks when the hotel door opens—they normally have other places to crash, but the room is paid for and it’s central to their interests and why the fuck not, he’s on Broadway, man—and he’s still in a skirt, fishnets, and heels.  He’s been practicing turns and crouches and kicks because if he doesn’t keep moving he’s going to come out of his skin.

“Method,” she growls, low and somehow sweet at the same time, puts down her bag, kicks off her shoes, and exhales in satisfaction as she whips off her shirt and bra, “badass, babe.”

He’s been a vibrating, needy mess all evening, thinking about her out with her friends, in a crush of familiar bodies, thinking about her lips and her tits and the way her mouth curls around a cocktail straw and her laugh after she’s bummed the cigarette that she tries to only smoke socially now but can’t resist when she’s drinking.  But sitting there on the end of the bed with his stocking-clad legs spread wide open and the skirt stretched between them, watching her come out of the bathroom in just her panties, there is only one really solid thing on his mind.

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Daddy-To-Be Worries

This story is completely fictional, and all for fun!

He was alone in their backyard enjoying the warm LA breeze and the beautiful city skyline as night faded into the March sky. 

He wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on around him as he aimlessly sang and strummed his guitar from his spot on the couch on their patio. His mind was somewhere distant from reality, as he got lost in the red glow of the fire that was burning in their fire pit and the lyrics of the song he was singing.

His guitar was one thing that could help him sort his thoughts and escape, for just a little bit, from the overwhelming stress and nervousness he had been feeling lately.

First of all, he was trying to stay as focused as possible on his latest project, which had just shifted its filming location to LA for the rest of the shoot. The set move seemed to lift some of the stress he had been feeling lately because he was, now, home and able to be with Kristen during this changing time in their lives, and though the role he was playing was challenging and kept him on his toes, it didn’t weigh on his mind as much as something else.

Fatherhood. It was a term he was just as much excited for as he was scared shitless.

He always knew he wanted to be a dad one day, but now that that day had arrived, or was coming very soon, his nerves had his mind in overdrive.

He knew Kristen would be a phenomenal mother; it would just come naturally to her, but him, he wasn’t so sure.

He loved babies and children, and he had been around them a lot since his friends had started having them, but he was so scared he was going to mess up somehow, or do something wrong; so many “what ifs” ran through his mind.

What if he dropped her or changed her nappie wrong? What if he didn’t hear her cry in the middle of the night? What if she was crying and wouldn’t stop? How would he know what she wanted? What if she fell and got hurt? And heaven help him when she got older.

Then he thought of how his career and being a parent will cause mass chaos.

How would he protect his little girl from the media and paparazzi? How could he keep her from getting scared or hurt by the crazy assholes out there that want a picture for a good fictional story? Was there anyway to hide her from all this forever? Well, maybe not forever, but for as long as possible while she was so young?

Of course, she hadn’t even come into the world yet, and he and Kristen had done one hell of a job hiding Kristen’s pregnancy; maybe it was somehow possible.

He just wanted to be the best daddy in the world, and he was so nervous for what his future in parenting would hold, but he couldn’t wait either because he knew it’d be an amazing experience. He wanted this. He just had such a mix of emotions at the moment, and he just wanted to calm his nerves somehow.

He shook his head as he realized he had drifted off into thought and stopped playing his guitar. He gazed out at the LA skyline, again, taking in its beauty as he puts all his worries away, and just thought of his sweet, little girl on the way, not the logistics of the whole thing. He hoped she would be a mini Kristen.

His fingers seemed to take on a mind of their own with his thoughts on his two girls. The tune that came to him seemed to flow effortlessly out of him, and for some reason, it was a song that always reminded him of Kristen.

When Kristen came home from set, she didn’t hear any sign of her man anywhere in their house. As she made her way into the kitchen and to the fridge to fill her craving, she noticed the sliding glass door to the backyard left partially open and heard a soulful voice singing a familiar Beatles’ tune.

She leaned against the doorframe, and quietly watched and listened as Rob sang “Hey Jude”, not noticing her presence.

Finally, she couldn’t resist anymore and she made her way over to him, leaning over the back of the couch and wrapping her arms around him, placing her hands on his chest.

“Hey, baby. What’re you doing playing out here,” she softly spoke in his ear before leaning to kiss his cheek.

“Hey,” he said slightly startled turning to look at her before she then made her way around the couch to sit next to him, snuggling into his side and gazing out across the lawn. “I’m just out here thinking,” he looked down at her wrapping his arm around her and placing his hand on her tiny baby bump finally feeling fully relaxed and at home; his nerves long gone.

“Something’s bothering you, I can tell. You want to talk about it,” she looked up at him with loving concern.

Their eyes met and he felt his little girl kick his palm, and somehow all the worries and “what ifs” seemed to fade way. He knew in that moment, as long as they were together, as long as they had each other, and helped each other, everything would be okay and they would experience this journey together. 

His shoulders felt lighter with knowing that it was all going to be okay. Leaning down, he captured her lips with his and kissed her with a sweet passion. Pulling away he leaned his forehead to hers and smiled, “Nah, I’m going to be just fine.”

Hey, everyone! I’m so very sorry this took as long as it did to be finished. I started it, and then had computer issues. Then real life decided to give me a good, hard kick in the ass, and we all know how that can be. Right now, I’ve got a lot going on and posting is going to be extremely splotchy for a bit like it has been lately. I thank you all for being kind and loyal and awesome during this time. You guys are the best, and I love you dearly. Stay classy – Sam

RIP Robin Williams 1951-2014. Your humor and spirit will live on and forever touch the lives of others.

Rags to Riches

by: ElenyasBlood

47k

Jared knows everything about living a tough life on the streets of New York City. He’s used to a growling stomach, doesn’t need a bath everyday, and as long as he has his dog Harley at his side, no place is too far away, and no floor too hard to sleep on. The work can be hard and the nights long during winter in the city, but even though his pockets are always empty, Jared never actually feels robbed of anything.

Valuing his freedom over the comfort of a small apartment, he lives his life under the stars, until one day, something unforeseen happens that will turn his whole life around, involving a rich, young business man named Jensen Ackles and a car accident in the middle of the night.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/3303497

Wisdom Teeth

Title:Wisdom Teeth
Author: Sketchbookthingz
Character: Sebastian Stan
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader
Rating: K
Warnings: None 
Fic Summary:  Read this, and decided to take a shot at it. 

anonymous said: Odd prompt: getting your wisdom teeth out and Seb just being really sweet and gentle and watching over you. ((Just got mine out and I would literally pay him to come hold me right now, not even joking))

Author’s Notes: Let me know what you like or dislike. I hope this makes you feel better! 

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RPF: Should old acquaintance be forgot

Pairing: David x Billie

Rating: Mature-ish

Word count: ~1600

Summary: I saw this prompt in a list and thought of them: “Person A is not sure of the words to Auld Lang Syne… Person B helps them”. It’s more rambling than storytelling to be honest.

Amid the cheerful conversation and laughter, David almost doesn’t hear his holiday ringtone. When he sees the name displayed on the screen, his heart skips a beat and he immediately moves to another room.

“Hey Bills!” he says, closing the door behind him.

“Heeey!” her voice is light, a bit tipsy, and it makes him chuckle right away.

He’s not so sober himself. It’s always a dangerous state to be in when talking with Billie.

“You seem like the kind of person who would know the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne,” she declares. “What comes after ‘We too have paddled in the stream’?”

David doesn’t point out that she could’ve just googled it. He knows this call has nothing to do with the song.

 

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Cas’s eyes were blue, impossibly blue, criminally blue, and beseeching, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, his expression so soulful and pained that Dean shook his head.

“You know what?” he asked, much to Cas’s confusion. “Fuck this. Fuck all of this. This is bullshit.”

“What?” Cas asked, licking his lips and taking a step back.

“What?” asked another voice, but Dean didn’t listen.

“How long have we been dancing around this? Years? Fuck that. We both want this. Let’s be real: what is stopping us from just taking it?”

And he reached forward, grabbed Cas by the shoulders, and yanked him forward. Their mouths met with a pressure that possibly would have drawn blood if Cas hadn’t already gone limp and yielding, and Dean closed his eyes and –

“CUT. Jensen, um…care to explain?”

Jensen’s eyes popped open and he took a step back. “What? Can we not use that?”

“Well,” the director said slowly, “seeing as how none of it is in the script in any way, shape, or form…no, not really.”

“And you swore,” Misha pointed out, touching his lip and looking at his fingers as though checking to see if he was bleeding. “That’s a nickel in the jar. Four nickels.”

“I can see the writing on the wall. Explain to me how we’re not building up to that.” Jensen crossed his arms. “Can we just skip another season of cliche lovelorn bullshit and just get on with it?”

“Can we just stick with the script for now?” the director asked plaintively. “Sell it to me. Sell it to the audience. Sell it to corporate. Then maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

“Just for the record,” Misha interjected, “there’s a lot of lovingly rendered art on the internet that says it’s well and truly sold to the audience.”

“I JUST WANT LUNCH,” said Jared from his position sprawled facedown on the ground.

Jensen shook his head, letting his arms drop. “Fine. I’m good. I’m good.”

“Good. Scene 11, A and D, take two.”