tea_and_ink: (our last day as children)
Today I am grateful because I picked up my notebook and WROTE SOMETHING. Of the fannish variety, that is. And I like it.

Not sure it'll go anywhere, but since I've been spending unholy amounts of time not paying attention in class thinking up ways to crossover the Codex Alera with Merlin, I thought it would be interesting to see if it took any kind of shape if I sat down and played with it for a bit. It did?

I think. Maybe.

Though its actually some sort of patchwork thing made with elements from the Kencyrath universe, Aleran furies and my own Arthurian preferences... good luck, ye who enter here.

Whatever, I'm happy with it. Thoroughly unbeta'd as I just finished it and HAD TO TELL SOMEBODY.

OMG I WROTE SOMETHING! Thanks for inspiration, man. Really.

tea_and_ink: (snapshots)
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing from me. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.

I'm even open to try some slash, been feeling adventurous lately!

tea_and_ink: (one does not love breathing)
So. I was, um, bullied into joining this sort of contest where there'll be no winners (or something) and I have to submit three pieces of fiction. One has to be old, another new and a third one something written the day of the submission itself, as in there'll be someone watching you write it. Oh pressure, how overrated you are.

Anyway, I'm working on the new piece, and am already deciding what the third is not gonna be about. It's the old one that has me a ragged mess of doubt. I have these few pieces that I love with all of my heart but some of them are too personal for me to share, others have already been shared and I believe it is against the non-contest rules to submit something you've already sent out to another contest (where there were actual prices. And less ridiculous rules), clearly this leaves me with very few options, of which the really attractive one is this RPF thingy I wrote a while back, and it is truly and sincerely loved. There's something about that story.

Which is where you guys come in (PLEASE, DO COME IN), because I'm asking your help with it. What do you think about it? Should I make arrangements? Is it contest material?

It's mustang horses, champagne glasses and this is the last thing I've written that got posted, so it's been opinioned on by other people already, but I'm still sort of on the fence about it, mostly because it never got beta-ed and so, (further) third party view may be required before it's set free onto the world.

::is insecure:: Will you help a poor little soul out?

tea_and_ink: (writing)
::jumps up and down:: OMG, OMG, OMG I've accomplished fic(s). Eeeeeee!

Now, here's the thing. since I'm trying to get the handle on things again, I need you guys to help a bit, 'kay? As usual my main issue is characterization. But in general, it's been a while for me, so ye be warned.  /insecurities.

mustang horses, champagne glasses. RPF JA/OFC. 
2162 words of PG -ness.
Thoroughly unbeta'd.
Title from Foucault's Northbound 35.


Jul. 28th, 2007 06:44 pm
tea_and_ink: (bookish)
think I wrote something resembling Dune Fic... which astounds me beyond measures.

It's untitled because none of the titles I could think of where as profound as the topic deserves. The freakin' fic isn't as profound as the topic deserves. But I tried anyway, and this is what came out. Obviously con crit is most welcome!

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)
Title: Dancing in the Moonlight
Author: Paola
Rating: R
Word Count: 2.367
Disclaimer: If I owned this; do you think I'd be resorting to fanfiction to see things happen?
Summary: they were not above this.
A/N: Titled after "Dancing in the Moonlight" by Thin Lizzy, as performed by Jeff Buckley because the original version? Sucks. Hopefully now that this is out of my system, the muses will stop it with the bratty behavior and will get their asses in gear before Mousey decides to fly all the way down here to kick my ass.

::: )
tea_and_ink: (to write)
Title: Summertime
Author: Paola
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1244
A/N: I originally intended this to be from a child’s POV, and I really should know better by now, shouldn’t I? The mentioned lake and woods come from the little town my grandmother grew up in, so they’re real. I believe that this lady is my grandmother, so in the style of a disclaimer I should mention that I did not create her and I do not own her, but she’s mine! 

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)

Title: Light a Match in a Dark Room...
Author: Paola
Rating: PG
Word Count: 587
Disclaimer: If I owned it, FOX would have had nothing to do with it. Trust me. Also? I'm poor, so if you sue, you'll waste your time.
A/N: completely and entirely un-betaed, so feel free to point out to me whatever you feel should be pointed out.
Summary: you don't appreciate what you could lose, until you realize you don't have it.

tea_and_ink: (fandom)
Title: Storm
Author: Paola
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I own no one you can recognize, the words however...
Summary: It begun with her storming out to bring some calm upon them. 

A/N: Y'all know how time-lines aren't really something I pay a lot of attention to, right? Well, this was written to be somewhere during the second half of S1 an before S2. Entirely unspoilery, in fact, it could be argued to take place in some AU, for that matter.


Apr. 17th, 2007 02:40 pm
tea_and_ink: (fandom)

Title: Relativity
Author: Paola
Rating: PG
Word Count: 903
Disclaimer: I've said it before, I own nothing, which is awesome because knowing myself... I'd have ruined it a whole long a go. Possibly. So, no suing necessary, mmkay?
A/N: this is from Sam's POV, which automatically makes it experimental, meaning that it could be somewhat OOC. Also? it could possibly be mostly wishful thinking on my part. Either way, I'm not gonna know anything for sure until I've tried out, right?
Summary: it all depends on where you're standing when you look at it.

tea_and_ink: (river)
Wrote this last night and it is positively my most favorite so far. There's something about it that just makes me happy. 
Would love to know what you think about it.

: The Fingerprints of Rain
Author: Paola
Rating: PG
Word Count: 582
Summary: No matter what happens tomorrow, yesterday cannot be undone.

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)
As usual, the title sucks out loud. But the rest of it? I heart.
I actually went through the entire process of re-writing it, and the final result pleases me very much ::nods:: I'm kinda proud of this one, peeps.

Title: Its unlocked, anyway.
Author: Paola
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2770
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, niente, so suing is really not the smartest move, okay? Okay.
Sumary: Alec was not her friend. Friends didn’t kiss like this, friends didn’t feel so warm, friends didn’t... they just didn’t.

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)

Be proud y'all. I finished Max's part!

Title: Veni, vidi... velcro (I came, I saw... I got stuck)
Author: Paola
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1.191
Disclaimer: its no secret I wish I owned Alec... but alas. Also? no money is being made with this. I swear.
Summary: All it took was for her to open her eyes and see what was there, see him.

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)
Also made this, a while ago. And I'm kinda tired of seeing it just sitting there, doing nothing productive.
Title: Tempus Fugit
Author: Paola
Rating: ...uh PG? less?
Word Count: 438
Disclaimer: If I owned any of these characters... things would so, so different. Still not getting any money out of it.
Summary: Time is a self-centered bastard.

tea_and_ink: (fandom)
So, here be the  Dean!angst fic Izzy.

Title: Tears of Ashes
Author: Paola
Rating: I should get a table that specifies these things. Its heavy on angst and there is some swearing.
Warning: Character death.
Word Count: 2.219
Disclaimer: I own nothing, or else there would be a lot more ladies in the show. No money is being made, sadly.
A/N: the roommate betaed it... so any typos, inconsistencies and else are to be blamed on her ::pretend you can hear my evil laughter::

tea_and_ink: (Angel)
Yesterday, sunday 25th, was a month since Evan's passing, which means that Max spent the entire day in my apartment trying to get me to stop crying and kicking stuff, it would have worked if he weren't cursing so much, but alas.

Anyway, at some point we decided that tv wasn't really doing the trick, so lets clean (I swear it was Max's idea) is all good, until we reach the stack of books by my bedside. There were three books that I never returned to Evan, two pictures inside one of them, another one had a dead leaf between its pages. I also found a pair of socks Evan left last time he was around and we never found in time before he left, a blue jersey I stole from him, and a shoe, he never mentioned being one-shoe-short...

After that, I kicked more stuff.

Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton was on repeat for god knows how long before we realizad we'd heard that song before.

Also, this... uh... poem? came out while "The Godfather, Part III" was on commercial break. Absolutely unbetaed, so you've been warned.

I really have no idea what is it about... I thought it was about Evan, but then I read it again... and yeah, no idea. Still, I like it so, I don't care.
tea_and_ink: (porn!Jen)
Good thing about insomnia is that you’re awake… and while awake, you must do something to keep you from waking up the roommate just to annoy her until you can get to sleep too.
With this interesting observation I set about doing something, a lot of things actually, but the one that proved to be productive was dusting my fic folder where I found this conveniently forgotten vignette that I thought wasn’t finished, until I read it and realized that I kinda like it like this.
Title: Green
Rating:R (just to be safe)
Pairing: Dean/Ellen
Word Count: 872
Disclaimer: I owe nothing. Also? I'm poor. There.
Summary: A Winchester’s look can be a powerful thing. 

The thing about Dean Winchester was that he was way too much like his dad, he just didn’t know it. But Ellen did. She’d known it from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Oh they weren’t exact copies, you could see they were related, yes, but that’s not what she saw. No, what she saw was the way his eyes moved over the room, studying it, owning it, the set of his shoulders, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-up shirt, the gruff look –something few man could master- and above all the weariness with which he approached everything.
Dean was a Winchester through and through, as far as she could tell. As far as John had told her. Weird thing was that he didn’t know that, Dean, he didn’t know how much of John had been ingrained in him, how much of his father survived in him. How much of her John shone through him every time she looked at him, every time he looked at her.
It made her remember the way John’s eyes followed her around when she was attending patrons in the Roadhouse, always so piercing, so intense she could feel them on her, even if she couldn’t see him watching her. It always got her all tingly when he did that, kind of on edge, like she was being stalked, hunted, and she liked it. Many men that came by looked at her with desire, some even had the nerve to come on to her; she was used to it, hell she was even used to some lustful glances being thrown in her daughter’s way, it was occupational hazard, so the point wasn’t that she was wanted, but that she was wanted by John Winchester.
John had his way of making her want him too. Those other guys? They had nothing to offer that would set them apart, earn her attentions, but John was another story. There was something to be said about a man who could get you all wet with a simple look. A predatory look at that.
And Dean had that look. She’d seen it few times, but she was sure as hell the boy had gotten that particular treat from his daddy. Sam never looked at her like that; he was far too respectful, too right for it. Dean’s respect and rightness was left to the outside, to what he said to her, to the way he behaved around her, to the times he knew she was looking. Ellen had caught him looking at her, watching her in a way that reminded her –painfully- of John once. After that Dean’s hunter instincts had kicked in and never again had she seen him let his guard down like that.
A shame, if you asked her; but it was okay because Ellen hadn’t managed to marry Bill and seduce John by being a bystander, she had played them so skillfully that they –at least Bill- thought that it was solely their efforts that had landed them on her bed. Ellen knew how to get that look from Dean, anytime she felt like it. Granted sometimes it was harder than others, but at the end, she always got what she wanted, more ammo for her nigth-time fantasies, when her hand went between her thighs and she saw heaven through predatory green eyes.
So whenever she was in the mood, she’d mother him. Dean did not like being bossed around; if you weren’t Sam, then you’d only get something from Dean if he wanted you to have it. If she prodded hard enough, he’d get annoyed and then the look would make its appearance, a stormy, slightly vengeful glare that he made quick work of schooling away, but that she drank greedily and stored in her memory for later use, when the moment was right, when there were no prying ears, nobody that could interrupt her.
Like now, when Jo was away and Ash was getting drunk somewhere else. Now that she was alone and could be as loud as she wanted to be, as she hadn’t been allowed to be in a long time. Like now that Dean had just left, after leaving his taste on her tongue and her hands aching for more than just his neck and shoulders, her body desperate for more than just a kiss, far more than just a kiss.
She had to come correct, Ellen hadn’t seen him look at her like John used to after that one time, until a few moments before, when she found his lips and he gave in to her, when he’d pulled back and just stared at her, waiting, wanting but not daring to take. She would have given him anything he didn’t ask but needed anyway, had it not been for Sammy’s phone call. Dean had rushed to his side, leaving her on her own.
Which didn’t mean that he wasn’t there with her in that room, in her bed. It only meant that she’d have to take her time, pick up where she left off until he went after her himself. Then she’d have all she wanted from him, but for now she’d have to make do with this. 


Feb. 22nd, 2007 12:48 pm
tea_and_ink: (river)
So, rumor has it that our MIA proff is gonna get fired, and I know I should not be grateful for it, but the dude had t coming, besides I'm paying to have someone to teach me stuff, not to admire the work of the lady that cleans the chalkboard...

Also? I just finished this and its kind of... weird. I like it, but it feels weird. I was listening to John Mayer and "Comfortable" made this baby start wailing, claiming for my attention so I just had to. Anyhow, hope you like.


Feb. 2nd, 2007 12:41 pm
tea_and_ink: (river)

So, took a while to work up the courage to post this… because I’m shy like that ::fidgets:: anyway, I wrote this last year, so is kinda old. I made it to “Was it a Dream?” by 30STM  and possibly to “A Beautiful Lie” too. Hope you like, I love it, that’s why I decided to make it the first.


Title: Dreamers.

Author: Paola

Rating: PG

Word Count: 418

Summary: “Now all she had left was a dull ache somewhere around her stomach, well that ache and the picture.”  

Author’s Note: Thanks [profile] roguemouse for the beta. I did my best to fix the tense issue without harming the story, hope it worked out.

Dreamers )


tea_and_ink: (Default)
olé nonetheless
...and your heart held out like a tin cup to catch the rain...

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