snarklyboojum: (batcave avengers)
Fic Title: Batcave Avengers (or, How Dean Winchester Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Fandom)
Author: [ profile] behindblue_eyes
Artist: [ profile] lightthesparks
Fandom/Genre: gen
Pairing(s): none
Rating: PG for the occasional naughty word
Word Count: 23,147
Warnings: none
Summary: The last time Dean had gone to a comic convention he’d wanted to kill everyone there. This time he was freaking Captain America.

Art Link(s): LJ
Fic Link(s): AO3

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snarklyboojum: (<-- this is my default icon!)
Fic title: Tales of Brave Ulysses
Author name: [ profile] behindblue_eyes
Artist name: [ profile] novakiel
Genre: SPN slash
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 55,134
Warnings: Gore. Violence. Foul language. Reference to literature not owned by the author but not in a crossover way. Very brief dead!Benny.
Spoilers: This was written during the first half of season eight and conceptualized during the long hiatus prior to that. Then edited after season eight aired, so assume mild spoilers for everything.
Summary: What if, before all that other shit went down in Purgatory, Dean and Cas found a road?
Special Thanks: To [ profile] fullmoon02 for the encouragement and hand-holding. To [ profile] novakiel for the awesome art. And to the mods of [ profile] spn_j2_bigbang, for putting together such a fantastic experience.


snarklyboojum: (god i HATE this hacker crap!)
Instead of actually editing my story I have been obsessively refreshing my friend's page for the past half hour.

This bigbang claiming needs to happen soon.




*refreshes again*
snarklyboojum: (winchesters have issues)
Finally decided on a title for my bigbang. Tales of Brave Ulysses.

Ohhhhh, this is gonna be good. Or maybe horrible, I dunno.
snarklyboojum: (DC on a mission)

*does the dance of artistic joy*

Now, to make it shippy or not. Hmmmmmmmmm.....
snarklyboojum: (sometimes love don't come easy (ssrl))
Just signed up for [ profile] spn_j2_bigbang again. And I just realized the draft I've been working on since this past summer doesn't have a proper ending.

headdesk MISCThis little bunny is me, you guys have no idea.
snarklyboojum: (<-- this is my default icon!)
Thinking about signing up for [ profile] spn_j2_bigbang again this year so I dusted off the draft that's been languishing on my computer since this summer. Not only has the original Where the Wild Things Are theme grown to include Dante's Purgatorio but also The Last Unicorn. I have no idea what I'm doing anymore.

But god if it comes together like it is in my head it's gonna be great
snarklyboojum: (must'a been drinkin' on that post)
The majority of The Precision of The Fall was edited at five in the morning on very little sleep. Reading through it again I noticed a lot of errors I missed. That was totally my bad (not my beautiful beta’s) and I feel terrible about it. I’ve gone through and adjusted everything so that it’s perfect... or as close to perfect as I can get. I’ve also updated the PDFs so if you've already downloaded and want a better version you may want to check that out.

There’s nothing quite so mortifying as being super excited about posting something only to find glaring grammar issues after you’ve pimped it all over. *headdesk*
snarklyboojum: (Default)
Fic title: The Precision of The Fall
Author name: [ profile] behindblue_eyes
Artist name: [ profile] daggomus_prime
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/ Ruby, Sam/Jessica
Rating: R for bad language and reference to sexual situations (And I mean bad language.)
Word count: 36,850
Warnings: alcohol abuse, driving under the influence, latent PTSD, circus animals coming to a bad end (though no animal abuse), cross-dressing, and Michael being a douche.
Summary: They used to be called The Family Winchester. People came from miles around to see their act, knowing their names and faces before the circus even rolled into town. Life was shiny with salt and sawdust, sequins and smiles. Now, all that was left were a few crumpled posters, an empty bunk next to Dean's, and the leather-gripped knives hidden in the trick pockets of his vest.
Special Notes: I don’t know how to do anything mentioned in this story, let alone ride a motorcycle, throw a knife, or fly on the trapeze. All knowledge is gained from the internet. If anyone reading this does know how to do those things and is aware I got anything wrong, you are awesome and please don’t send the clowns after me.
Special Thanks: To [ profile] daggomus_prime, my brain twin, for her patience and utterly breathtaking artwork. I couldn’t have done it without you. Also to [ profile] knoifey_spoony for encouragement and the title suggestion.

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snarklyboojum: (god i HATE this hacker crap!)
My big bang posts tomorrow.


I don't think I'm ready for this. Marathon editing/coding begins after I take a nap. Eep.
snarklyboojum: (Default)
Self, what the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be finishing your Big Bang draft prior to begging for betas. THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE ADDING SCENES. Didn't you learn this the last time with Dirty Rotten?

Although that scene was one of the best ones in the story, and really fleshed out the First War. Still. No new scenes!

Anyway. I'm going to need a beta once this one is done. Anyone interested? It's around about 30k non-graphic Dean/Castiel circus AU after the Vietnam War. I'm mainly looking for tense checking, making sure everything's in character, and keeping the dialogue as authentic as possible.

Anyone? Bueller?

*puppy eyes*
snarklyboojum: (you're crazy and i love you)
HOLY SHIT. My bigbang has been claimed by an artist. And that artist? I... I...


I am seriously shaking you guys. Like, my hands are all jittery. I may just cry a little bit here.


OMG this final draft needs to be awesome. No pressure. No pressure. No pressure.
snarklyboojum: (Default)
Almost eleven thousand words in to my Big Bang. ELEVEN THOUSAND WORDS, two thousand of which I produced tonight. Some of that is still in rough format, just dialogue and placeholders until I can fill it out later. I haven't even added in the act descriptions or flushed out a lot of the plot points yet. I've got a long way to go, but it looks like I might actually get there.

Holy shit. I'm not bragging, I'm just a little boggled. I had a moment like this on my last two stories, too. That I-can't-believe-I'm-writing-this-much-or-maybe-this-well feeling. I'm not sure what to make of it right now.

...Of course, part of that could be because it's after four in the morning. *headdesk*
snarklyboojum: (must'a been drinkin' on that post)
So I just wrote this:

It is the nature of the circus to be transitional, a fleeting dream set up and gone again in a day. After so long living like a gypsy, being stationary fit like a bad coat. And as familiar and comfortable as Carver’s winter quarters were, Dean always felt better when he was on the road. He’d spent the beginning of his life in a boxcar, the clickety clack of the railway and his mother’s lilting voice the only lullabies he knew.

With the advent of the highway it was certainly easier to pack everything and go, big trucks and silver bullet campers taking the place of rail cars and steam. Traveling shows like theirs could hit more small towns this way; branching away from the mother roads onto any pavement Bobby was willing to risk the big rigs. Sometimes, when Dean was having trouble sleeping at night, he’d toss the keys to Sam and lean his head against the metal door of their Ford RV and conjure up those train sounds, letting the sway of the road drift him away.

Dean always slept better when they were traveling.

He doesn’t think Sam remembers the trains, and that makes him sad. He knows he doesn’t remember their mother.
And I realized something about my Big Bang universe.



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