it's been a long time since we had a meme around here

[snick_backup]

Y'all, I am apparently still in "Post-Project-Completion Mode." I spent probably an hour last night just wandering around fandom_wank, reading old SPN wank reports. I read a couple of fics. (One of them had bunches of quotes in Spanish, and I felt smart after I realized that the only ones I needed the mouseover text for were the swear words.) I did nothing useful whatsoever. And then I went to bed.

Before I do that, though, a meme! Nabbed from various folks.

Pick any passage of 500 300 words or less from any story I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

(If this post gives you deja vu, it means there's been a change in the Matrix it's because I posted last night and decided I didn't have the energy to respond. So I am reposting today. :D)

Original entry posted at Dreamwidth. Feel free to reply here or there. ( DW replies)

Comments

[jacyevans.livejournal.com]

Ohhhh I love this meme :D How about this one from "These Spooky Old Woods:"

When she comes out, Dean is out cold. Jo takes it for the compliment it is that he can go to sleep while she’s still around.

On the other bed, Sam stirs. Jo goes and sits on it, and he opens his eyes. “Hi,” he says muzzily.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

Jo shrugs. “I’m making it. You?”

“Better.” As if to demonstrate, he pushes himself upright and leans back against the bedframe. He blinks a couple of times and gives her a lopsided grin. “Thanks for saving our asses.”

“What I’m here for.”

Sam nods. If he reads her mood as anything more than sheer exhaustion – which, to be fair, does account for at least half of it – he doesn’t comment.

She considers him, this hunter – this alpha - that she trusts, just like she trusts his moron alpha brother who’s now snoring quietly in the other bed. She takes a whiff of Sam, and underneath the sickness and the drying sweat, she smells the fundamental alphaness of him.

“You’re thinking pretty hard,” he comments.

She scoots over and reaches a hand up to palm his cheek. He’s not really awake, she thinks, or his eyes would be wider by now. She leans in and kisses him. His lips part, probably as much in surprise as anything, and he tastes of minty toothpaste with an underlying flavor of puke. She savors the soft warmth of him a little longer anyway before she pulls back. He looks plenty bewildered, but not alarmed.

They’ve been dancing around each other for a long time now, she thinks.

“What was that for?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Because I can.”

[gryfndor-godess.livejournal.com]

Oh I very much second this passage.

[snickfic]

Ohyay. I was particularly fond of this passage in the fic (largely because of it having, as Ghost and I have recently referred to them, FEELINGS), and am tickled to talk about it. :D

When she comes out, Dean is out cold. Jo takes it for the compliment it is that he can go to sleep while she’s still around.

Jo's just come out of the shower after the end of the hunt in which she played knight to the boys' damsels. Dean's asleep. This means a lot to Jo, because she is very, very aware of others' perceptions of her. I think we saw some of this in canon!Jo early on, but it's exacerbated in fic!Jo because she's found the row of omega!hunter that much harder to hoe. A key reason for her relationships with the boys in this universe is because they take her seriously - and, as demonstrated here, they still trust her. (I think trust is also a pretty hard-won commodity in this universe, even for alphas.)

On the other bed, Sam stirs. Jo goes and sits on it, and he opens his eyes. “Hi,” he says muzzily.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

Jo shrugs. “I’m making it. You?”

This Jo deflects a lot. Vulnerability is weakness. She allows herself to be more vulnerable with Sam and Dean than almost anyone, but old habits die hard.

“Better.” As if to demonstrate, he pushes himself upright and leans back against the bedframe. He blinks a couple of times and gives her a lopsided grin. “Thanks for saving our asses.”

“What I’m here for.”

Sam nods. If he reads her mood as anything more than sheer exhaustion – which, to be fair, does account for at least half of it – he doesn’t comment.

Jo's just had to kill an omega woman whose motivations Jo has a whole lot of sympathy for, but who also misjudged and underestimated Jo just as she's been underestimated by practically everyone in her life. Now that the hunt's over, she's giving herself space to feel conflicted about it as she couldn't while it was still happening.

She considers him, this hunter – this alpha - that she trusts, just like she trusts his moron alpha brother who’s now snoring quietly in the other bed. She takes a whiff of Sam, and underneath the sickness and the drying sweat, she smells the fundamental alphaness of him.

A) More than these guys trusting Jo, Jo trusts them. This is huge for her. She trusts about five people on the entire planet, and two of them are Sam and Dean (even though she thinks Dean's pretty much a bro). After having just killed Lydia, who's reminded Jo afresh just how dangerous alphas are, Jo is consciously reminding herself that Lydia is wrong, that not all alphas are what Lydia believed them to be.

B) It doesn't say here, but I think omega!Jo did still have a crush on alpha!Dean for about five minutes. This Jo doesn't really allow herself to have crushes, though; they make her feel vulnerable. Also she went through a long stretch where she concluded Dean was a total jerk before she came around again to being fond of him. At this point she thinks of him as an obnoxious yet beloved older brother, which is pretty much my headcanon for Dean and Jo generally. Sibling love 4ever!

[snickfic]

...and part II. (I exceeded the character limit.)

She scoots over and reaches a hand up to palm his cheek. He’s not really awake, she thinks, or his eyes would be wider by now. She leans in and kisses him. His lips part, probably as much in surprise as anything, and he tastes of minty toothpaste with an underlying flavor of puke. She savors the soft warmth of him a little longer anyway before she pulls back. He looks plenty bewildered, but not alarmed.

The kiss is not particularly sexy, but then I don't think this fic is the place for sexy kissing. This is a fic about weighing your options and taking the risk to care about someone, which may include kissing them even when they don't taste too great.

Also, it's a huge deal for Jo that Sam's surprised, that he doesn't immediately take the inch he's been given and grab a mile. Sam's not that guy. Jo's the actor here, and Sam is letting her act. He's letting her call all the shots without even thinking too much about it, because it just doesn't occur to him that taking control of the situation is something he needs to do.

They’ve been dancing around each other for a long time now, she thinks.

I hope this line and the kiss before it didn't come completely out of the blue. I was definitely leading in this direction from the beginning of the fic, but Jo keeps her feelings very deeply buried, to the point that even the narrative voice could barely touch them. Jo explicitly trusts Sam, though, which accounts for about 4/5 of her decision here.

“What was that for?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Because I can.”

On the surface, Jo's response is pretty cavalier, but underneath I and Jo meant the same thing by this, I think; she is explicitly thinking here that kissing Sam is safe. She can kiss him. It's not dangerous. By extension, a relationship with him is safe for her. By word and action she is rejecting Lydia's view of the world.

Honestly, pocochina in her comment nailed exactly what I was going for (and it always thrills me to pieces when that happens): Jo kind of finding her way toward a relationship that's solid for her, next to the way it can all go so sour.

So there you are: the money shot of the entire fic. :)

[majorshipper]

Ah, fandom wank. That place is actually pretty cool. It gave me a good look at what to avoid in fandom when I first got started, lol.

[snickfic]

It's a great source of cautionary tales. :D

[pocochina.livejournal.com]

I want to hear more about True Believers!

"He created us. We're his."

"Yeah, you really believe that. Lucifer, heaven's brightest, gives a hot damn about scum like us."

For a moment there, Meg was hers. A shadow doubt flickered past and was gone. "Like you," she says.

"I picked my horse, and I'm backing him." And when he got to that winner's circle, look out, world. Ruby could taste the power in him as thick and heavy and hot as she tasted her own blood on his lips every time she let him kiss her.

Meg stared at her with revulsion.

Ruby drank down the last of her beer and slammed the mug to the table with a thunk. "So, we gonna pull each other's hair or what?"

Meg leaned forward, voice rough with feeling. "Lucifer's gonna rise, and hell's gonna rule the whole freaking popsicle stand. Except for you."

"An angel," Ruby repeated. "Think about it."

She doubted Meg would; Meg was the stuff true believers were made of. Took one to know one.

Ruby shoved to her feet, watching still, waiting for the first punch. When it didn't come, she strode casually towards the door. "Ciao," she said over her shoulder, smirking in Meg's direction. Meg just sat and watched her go.

When Lucifer rose and all these damn yippy dogs figured out who'd engineered the breaking of that last lock, they were in for a hell of a surprise.

Lucifer'd know what a good little demon Ruby had been, and she'd get her reward.

She would.

[snickfic]

Oh hey, a meme I was supposed to do six weeks ago! I was really pleased to be asked about this fic, because the ratio of effort per word was unusually high.

"He created us. We're his."

"Yeah, you really believe that. Lucifer, heaven's brightest, gives a hot damn about scum like us."

For a moment there, Meg was hers. A shadow doubt flickered past and was gone. "Like you," she says.

My prompt for this fic was to write something in which Ruby and Meg realize that Lucifer doesn't care about demons, even though he created them; that he's only using them. I couldn't quite get them there in this fic, but I did try to work out how they each might have some doubts. In particular, I tried to imagine what story Ruby was telling to explain her apparent treachery to Lucifer and demonkind.

I ended up relying pretty heavily on Crowley's line of reasoning from 5.10, which is: Lucifer's an who can't even stand humans; what could he possibly want with demons except cannon fodder?

The thing is, not only is Meg not buying this line, but Ruby hasn't bought it, either. Which puts an interesting sort of double tension in the fic.

"I picked my horse, and I'm backing him." And when he got to that winner's circle, look out, world. Ruby could taste the power in him as thick and heavy and hot as she tasted her own blood on his lips every time she let him kiss her.

This, OTOH, is totally genuine on Ruby's part. I think she, like the demon in 3.04, thinks Sam is awesome, the savior of demonkind, and she is totally stoked to follow him along the path of evil and destruction, even if she has to prod him down it herself. And despite her emotional attachment – which I think she definitely some of for Sam – I do think she also thinks of it as backing a horse, as making a power play. Ruby has loyalties, but she's also in this to win.

Meg stared at her with revulsion.

Ruby drank down the last of her beer and slammed the mug to the table with a thunk. "So, we gonna pull each other's hair or what?"

Can I just say, both of these characters are soooo much fun to write. I mean, they're hard, because I didn't really get either of their rhythms down in 700 words. But man, they will snark until doomsday. How have I NEVER seen any other fic about the two them? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

Meg leaned forward, voice rough with feeling. "Lucifer's gonna rise, and hell's gonna rule the whole freaking popsicle stand. Except for you."

"An angel," Ruby repeated. "Think about it."

She doubted Meg would; Meg was the stuff true believers were made of. Took one to know one.

And here we have the money shot. Intellectually, I think Ruby would consider herself to be a follower of Lucifer first (or possibly Lilith), but it seems to me that she's clearly a Sam!girl first and a Lucifer!girl as a distant second.

Ruby shoved to her feet, watching still, waiting for the first punch. When it didn't come, she strode casually towards the door. "Ciao," she said over her shoulder, smirking in Meg's direction. Meg just sat and watched her go.

When Lucifer rose and all these damn yippy dogs figured out who'd engineered the breaking of that last lock, they were in for a hell of a surprise.

Demon solidarity, it's not really a thing. At least not as far as Ruby's concerned.

Lucifer'd know what a good little demon Ruby had been, and she'd get her reward.

She would.

And there we have that whisper of a doubt I'd been aiming for the whole fic (as per prompt). To be honest, I'm not entirely happy with it; I'm not convinced that rewards from Lucifer is the motivation Ruby's running on right now. (Meg, largely yes; Ruby, no.) I actually rewrote the second half of the fic about five times, trying to get the right balance of die-hard and, hmm, human? With room for doubt? But I'm not sure I got there.

These two are so excellent together, though. I am now retroactively ticked that we never once saw them together.