Here is the incredible art by @winchester-reload for my oneshot [ It Changes Everything (Ao3) ] that she so magnanimously twisted my arm to write. The lesson here, my friends, is that if you have a piece that isn’t working for you (see above), throw it at an author with writer’s block, and you will have beautiful art babies together!
(Art posted with permission)
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Characters: Castiel, Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, lots of feelings
Summary:
Castiel is willing to change everything. Dean isn’t sure it’s enough.
Features art by the insanely talented Winchester-Reload, who allowed me to steal this piece because she was going to throw it away!
@winchester-reload : here’s your fic!
*hugging myself* You’re doing great, you fucking idiot.
Out of the 90-something percent of chapters that have smut in them, I might have to agree with you. Then again, I asked you what YOU wanted to see, so that chapter was all yours! 😀 As for my favorite of yours? Besides literally everything, your Sabriel in Dreaming in Digital. I about bit my tongue reading it. Hands down. Close second is Noise Complaint, not just because it was my apartment, but because I really do think it’s the hottest, sexiest, most tactile smut you’ve ever done.
Well of course the gift porn is going to be our favorites, that really should have been obvious lol
I’m going to have to re-read Noise Complaint for inspiration when I’m ready to write the smut in DiD 😀
In my defense, I think the Sabriel should count because I never thought you’d write it ever! But if we have to exclude gift porn, I’m gonna go with Cursed or Not when Castiel and Dean end up in the feedback loop. That was super hot.
*puts that on the Homework list* (seriously, my porn fairy is nowhere to be found today and needs to be lured out)
Y’know what else of yours I love, is that Dean/Ketch fic. But angry enemy sex is one of the reasons I love the enemies to lovers trope. Wait, was that gift porn? I don’t think it was gift porn, it was more mutual THEY SHOULD BANG thoughts and then you wrote it lol
THAT COUNTS! It wasn’t a gift fic. I remember texting you and saying, “they angry fucked somewhere before or after that hunt.” And you went, “so hot.” And I said, “I’m writing it.”
I have deleted a bunch of responses to this ask. Because.
I’m not equipped to deal with compliments like this. It’s just the nicest, most inspiring thing ever. I wish I could articulate my gratitude properly, but I’m actually crying?
So. Anyway, where’s this inspired smut I would very much like to read? 😀
I love everything about this, affirmation anon. And Life sure did bring my favorite cake this week. I forgive Life. I’ll give it a party hat and kazoo and show it what a good time it can have! :D:D:D:D
It does bother me, though. But not personally so much, anymore. What bothers me is that people get hate like I get all the time, and they end up giving the trolls exactly what they want by losing hope.
Every time I see someone making a post along the lines of, “stop sending hate/crit/negative comments because it makes me lose the desire to finish my story/post more art,” it’s giving the trolls exactly what they want. They don’t like what you do, and they want you to stop doing it. And frankly? I don’t want to stop doing what I’m doing.
Anon, it’s a lot of mental gymnastics to let the hate roll off. And, look, it’s not always easy. When I was in the ME fandom, I got some extremely disturbing hate messages that threatened both me and my daughter. Those I responded to. Privately. With a lawsuit. The same is true of the person in the SPN fandom who stole my fics and tried to sell them on Amazon as original fiction. The same is true of the person who reported my SPN works to the CW.
But I’ve been in fandoms for more than two decades now. I love most of the people I meet. I love to write, knit, make gifs, what have you. And I know that 1 sour apple can spoil 50 other good ones, but I’m too old and tired to care.
The bottom line is that I don’t want to stop creating fanworks. I just don’t. Writing brings me joy, catharsis, self-exploration, and yes, sometimes hate, but also undiluted adoration. Sometimes I get a comment that leaves me really low and uninspired to continue. But then a few days later, the pull is back, and the troll is vanquished because I love what I do, and I always want to do it.
It sucks that hate can be stronger than love. But the haters don’t get to tell me how to enjoy what I enjoy. They don’t get to determine my experience. And they certainly don’t get to take away my love.
I don’t know how to tell you how to get to where I am. I really wish that I could. It was just a combination of age, experience, exposure, and sheer tenacity. I hold onto my oasis of love and support and fandom really freaking hard. And at the end of the day, there is always more support than hate. Hate might be louder and have more impact, but in this one case, I consider quantity over quality. There’s more love. Plus, no one has to like my stuff. I like it, and that’s why I made it. I wish they’d be mature and move on if they don’t, but some people are immature and hateful, and that’s the world. I’ll delete their unimportant bullshit and move on.
It definitely took me a long time to master because it is a learned behavior, but as with everything else, practice makes perfect! And in the end, anon, I hope you can make stuff you’re happy with and find those oases to bask in just like I did. There’s always bad, but in most fandoms, there’s also so much good. Just like you. Just like me. 😀
I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for 8 freaking months while I wrote it! Frankly, I think it’s my best work yet! 😀 I’d love to hear what you think after! GOOD LUCK! Hahahaha!
It started in the cantaloupes.
Vanya held two of them, at eye level, squeezing ever so gently. Ianto had a knack with produce- he knew, with some uncanny sense, how ripe something was. But the Professor was at school and the heat, creeping into suffocatingly high temps, called for fruit. Vanya couldn’t cook, but god help him, he knew how to cut things.
Motion beyond the two fruits caught his attention, and he lowered them enough to see the couple by the deli counter. He recognized the looks on their faces as they pushed past, the quick hand grabbing a package of prescliced ham and letting it vanish into the folds of a tatty jacket.
He’d been there. Before he’d met his Professor. Even before he’d learned when to con someone’s trust and when to break someone’s arm. He’d picked pockets and stolen food wherever he’d been able.
But the motion wasn’t good enough, and a red-faced man in a blue polo shirt was stalking towards them, having seen it as well.
Vanya sighed, then kicked his cart out in front of him. It went clattering, careening, into the security man, and Vanya immediately forgot every single bit of English he knew, making “отвали, мудак, бля!” sound like the most apologetic thing anyone had ever heard.
He shot the couple a look, and a sharp nod as he continued to call the security man an increasingly colourful stream of Russian swears in a mollifying tone, tripping over him and upending a carefully arranged mountain of tomatoes as they scurried away.
By the time he was done, the produce section was in chaos, the security man was screaming at him, and Vanya was relatively sure he would never shop at this particular Food Lion again.
but the couple had gotten away. He hoped they’d grabbed more than just some ham.
He didn’t expect to find them, sitting in a battered old ford at the back of the parking lot when he exited, but he wheeled his cart over to a car that wasn’t his and peered back at them. “What groceries do you need?” He asked, trying to soften his usual scowl. “I buy too much soup and veggies and things for just the two people.”
“Why’d you help us?” She finally asked, peering around her partner.
“I know what it is like, to be hungry, and to have people think you steal, maybe even when you don’t sometimes.” he shrugged. “But please to be careful, yes?”
“We can’t pay you back.” he said, taking the proffered bag.
“Is loan to future. Sometime, you help someone else, yes?” He smiled his least unsettling smile.
As they drove off, he looked in his cart, and let out a heavy sigh. He’d forgotten the damn cantaloupes.
Jupiter Astrid James 