September 25th, 2007
|06:53 pm - Whine ahead|
(1) I know I'm the grown up and all but I want someone to come do all the hard stuff! *whine whine*
(2) Hard stuff=packing
(3) I move? In 4 days. I have packed? 3 boxes.
(4) Dude, I am so screwed. Send Winchesters!
Current Mood: Petulant
September 23rd, 2007
|06:53 pm - <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/maleslashminis/89662.h|
Title: "Metaphors, Similes and Other Hazards of a Post-Apocalyptic Life"
Summary: Stranger things may have happened but not to Xander. Really.
Author's Notes: Written for otherpervert for the maleslashminis Xander Round. Set about 10 years post "Not Fade Away" and very arguably AU depending on how you see that playing out.
Required elements: snuggling/petting, complaints about hair gel, happy ending
( Xander learned a long time ago... )
Current Mood: accomplished
September 18th, 2007
|08:40 am - FIC: lips like morphine (SPN, Sam/Dean, NC-17, wincest)|
Title: lips like morphine
Prompt: "Your perfect fucking mouth" by darkhavens in the rounds_of_kink challenge
Kink: Oral Fixation
Notes/Warnings: Slash, Wincest, language. Beta love to rubywisp, and all errors are mine because she is made of awesome. Title from song of the same name by Kill Hannah.
( Ripe is the best description for those lips. )
Current Mood: awake
September 13th, 2007
|10:58 am - when i grow up|
snurched from alleyoops
1. Go to http://www.careercruising.com/.
2. Put in Username: nycareers, Password: landmark.
3. Take their "Career Matchmaker" questions.
4. Post the top ten results
1.Printing Press Operator
3.Special Effects Technician
7.Dental Lab Tech
8.Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator
[Unknown LJ tag]
15.Film and TV Crew
20.Director of Photography
28.Tool and Die Maker
Current Mood: awake
September 11th, 2007
|10:43 am - Fic Challenge Pimp|
I know, I know, there's already like a billion fic challenges and such happening and they all hit in October.
So? More fic for us, that's what I say.
Anyway, here's another one that I want to point out to y'all because it's fun, and it's light on the requirements: luzdeestrellas Supernatural West-Wing-Episode-Title Fic Challenge
There's a MASSIVE amount of episode titles to choose from and so many of them just scream for SPN fic that I had a hard time choosing. Only 500 words! Due somewhere around Octiber 16th! Write whatever gets you to the happy place!
Go sign up, you know you want to. *pushes you all over*
Current Mood: bouncy
September 9th, 2007
|08:32 pm - FIC: i hope neil young will remember (SPN, Sam/Dean, R)|
Title: i hope neil young will remember
Prompt: Sam & Dean,
I've been in my mind, it's such a fine line
That keeps me searching for a heart of gold
Word count: 858
It’s a hard realization to make, understanding that you’ve spent your life being in love with one person and never really known it until they were leaving you.
Sam spends hours every day hunched over the laptop or with his face buried in John’s journal. He has worn down countless pencils, written the ink out of a hundred pens picked up in hotel rooms and diners. He’s filled pads of paper with notes, doodles, drawings, scribbles. There is a rainbow of post-its on everything, including the laptop itself.
Dean sleeps every night bathed in the blue-white glow of the computer’s screen, his face pressed into the pillow, his hip snugged up to Sam’s thigh. Every night Sam looks for the key. Every night he feels the slip of another day gone.
Watching Dean is his other obsession. Sam drinks his brother in the way his lungs take in oxygen – it’s done without conscious thought to the process. Sam’s eyes are open, therefore he’s watching his brother, or looking for a way to save him. There are moments in between, but the thought of Dean walking out to get beer or pizza or a bag of peanut M&M’s and not coming back again is enough to send Sam into a cold sweat of panic.
"Dude, personal bubble," Dean mutters when Sam walks up the back of his heel in the checkout line.
Sam flushes, flips Dean off casually and below the line of sight of the cashier, goes back to scanning the trashy magazines set up in a row for impulse buys. This is the level of his desperation – he is actually looking for something he can latch onto and spin out into research he hasn't already been over a hundred times. He is looking at "Weekly World News" as a resource.
He has never felt so helpless in his life.
Sometimes when he is lying in the dark, one arm under the pillow or beneath Dean's head, the other resting on the small of Dean's back or on his hip, Sam wonders what moment it was that made him realize that he was in too deep to ever be free of it. Not just the messy tangle of total fuck up that is this thing between him and his brother, but the painful realization that he will not be able to go on breathing if he can't break the contract.
Sam remembers the first sloppy kiss he gave Dean, drunk on one can of beer and terrified that Dean will not just kick his ass six ways to Sunday but that Sam will lose that easy grin that Dean gives him when he's feeling generous and big brotherly towards him. Scared out of his wits, heart pounding hard enough to echo in his own ears, he snuck into Dean's bed, wriggled up under the arm flung out over the covers and pressed his mouth, wet with beer-tinged saliva, onto Dean's.
The reaction was almost anti-climatic really. Dean had opened his eyes, stared back at Sam when he drew back and rubbed his hand over his mouth.
"Less spit, more tongue," Dean told him with a huff and turned over in the bed, making room for Sam to lie down with him the way they hardly ever did anymore. Sam spooned up against Dean's sleep-warm body, long arms clutching too tight as he waited for something else to be said. There was nothing though, just the slow and even sound of Dean's breathing turning into snores as he dropped deeper into sleep.
If Dean's aware of what Sam's doing now, he doesn't let on. There's the odd comment here and there when Sam gets so close that they damn near trip over each other's feet, or when Sam drops off to sleep in the middle of some bar because he spent the night up at the laptop and Dean has to practically carry him out to the car. But mostly Dean just lets Sam follow him around like a big puppy everywhere he goes, drawing the line only at the public bathroom in some of the rougher bars. That's probably a good idea, even Sam will admit that. Getting them in some stupid bar fight when they're trying to fly under the radar is more important that then 45 heart-stopping seconds it takes for Dean to go take a piss all by himself.
Sam's not sure if he's grateful for Dean's shiny new sense of propriety about this neediness or not. Before everything that happened with the demon and the deal, he knows that Dean would have tolerated about five minutes of that kind of behavior before he lost his temper and flipped out. But everything about Dean is slightly different now and it makes Sam ache to think that he's missed so much time. That he could have made a difference sooner.
That he could lose the heavy dip in the mattress, the sound of soft snoring, the heat of the body that his own curves around and against, the reason he manages to go on. It can't happen. He won't let it.
Current Mood: calm
September 5th, 2007
|10:37 am - FICLET: "Whisper Lies" (Angel/Illyria, PG)|
Ficlet: Whisper Lies
Prompt: Angel/Illyria, strange moment
Word Count: 394
She stares at him, her head on that odd angle, one that reminds Angel too vividly of broken necks he’s known.
“You are grieving. And angry. Yet you linger here with me when we could be doing violence. Explain.” Her head rights itself, abnormal eyes blinking so precisely he thinks they might actually make a clicking sound, robotics of a sort that would give Disney a happy even in his grave.
“I can’t,” Angel admits and licks his lip, stares out past Illyria’s shoulder to the rain-soaked alley behind her. “Humans grieve in different ways.”
“You are no longer human,” she points out with annoyance in her tone. “And still you cling to their weaknesses such as emotions. Wesley held this flaw of yours in high regard.”
He startles at the mention of Wesley’s name and the pain in his chest should mean there was a heart beating there to carry the ache. There isn’t one but he hurts as if there was. “What else did he say?”
“Many things. He liked to speak about you. Often I could not make him change the topic unless I threatened violence.” She frowns, the emotion odd on her normally blank face. “He wished me to lie to him at the end. He wished me to be her, the other whose body I inhabit.” She watches Angel’s reaction, notes the subtle change in his eyes, his mouth. “Would you like to know what it was like?”
He opens his mouth to deny it but she sees to well and he’s too close to what may be the end to leave any more questions unanswered when he doesn’t have to. “Yes.”
She steps over to him, her features shimmering into Fred’s and then, as warm fingers reach up to touch his face, into someone else. It’s a kaleidoscope moment, every emotion sliding into another and flipping back again, folding in on itself and expanding into something new. She smiles with Wesley’s mouth and presses it to Angel’s. She speaks with Wesley’s voice and whispers into his ear.
Then she is Illyria again, cool and composed as she steps back from him, the contact with his body broken and her eyes sliding closed and open, head at that peculiar arc, nothing changed as Angel says nothing and presses past her into the rain that still falls in the alley.
Current Mood: cheerful
August 30th, 2007
|03:23 pm - Ficlet: Hand Me Downs (John Winchester, gen, PG)|
Ficlet: Hand Me Downs
Prompts: John Winchester, legacy in the positive sense
Word Count: 556
John Winchester's daddy wasn't the kind of man to sit down and have a warm and emotionally bonding kind of talk. In fact most times John can't remember much of anything his dad ever said to him that wasn't about how to fix a truck or use a tool the way it was supposed to be done. His daddy was a quiet man, but strong in the way some men just are. There's no bragging, no reason to flaunt that strength, it was always just a part of him like his green eyes and the way his hair grew in a swirl on the back of his head. John can remember seeing that odd little whorl of black hair when his daddy would sit at night and drowse in the chair after supper.
When he was older, off doing his duty for his country, off earning himself a few scars and a first hand exposure to things he swears his kids are never going to have to see themselves, he thinks about his daddy and how proud the man was of him for joining up. Not that he'd say so, of course. But his mother told him so, and John knew his mother wouldn't lie, not with her baby boy about to go off and face a bunch of men trying to kill him.
"He's so proud of you," she'd whispered against his ear as she hugged him. "He loves you so much, John and he's about to burst from wantin' to brag on you. Don't you ever forget that."
Tonight, years later, John thinks about his daddy as he sits in a hospital room and watches his own son struggle to breathe one more time. He barely feels his own hurts, barely feels the broken bone in his arm or the ruined muscle in his leg where the bullet torn him up. All he can feel is the weight of ever breath Dean takes, and he thinks that maybe this is how his own daddy felt every single night he was gone. He thought about his mother's parting words but he thinks that he never understood what she was really trying to tell him, and now he does.
This is what being a father means. You will feel every hurt your children feel; you will fear for them every moment of the day and night whether they are under your roof or a thousand miles away from it; you will wish and pray and bargain with God and anyone or anything else that you have to in order to keep them breathing, safe, happy. You will love them more than you can ever say. And you will come to understand that they won't know this themselves until they're the ones feeling those same things.
John lets his head drop back against the chair. It's cold in here and his son is dying.
He lets that sink in -- his son is dying.
The respirator makes another harsh noise and covers the sound of John's whispered prayers for help. Who he's praying to right now even John can't say, but he feels the connection come full circle with his own father and knows the man made his own whispers in the dark of another room and made his own bargains in exchange for John's safety.
Current Mood: relaxed
|12:16 pm - Ficlet: the silence is deafening (JDM, PG-13)|
Fic: the silence is deafening
Prompts: JDM and:
And I've been drinkin' now
Just a little too much
And I don't know how
I can get in touch with you
Now there's only one thing
for me to do, that's to
To get home to you
Word Count: 205
The bottle's more than half empty and he still can't pick up the phone. Instead he stares at the floor where the note lies in torn pieces. He can see bits of words on the ones that landed face up, a squiggle of blue ink here, a stroke of curved letter there. It all adds up to shit anyway, and so he takes another drink and lets the glass get warm in his hand.
Stares as the droplets gather on the glass, tells himself that it's not a binge. If it was a goddamn binge, then would he have bothered with ice? No, he fucking well would not have bothered with ice. Or a glass, for that matter. A binge is all about a bottle and a lot of forgetting. This isn't forgetting. This isn't even in the neighborhood of forgetting.
As he stares at the papers, the droplets meld together, slide down the glass, fall to the floor. The soft arc of that blue-inked curve turns into a smudge of nothing, obliterated by the water drop from his glass.
Every rattle of the melting ice in the glass is the sound of the phone not ringing. No, this isn't a binge. He's not forgetting.
Current Mood: busy
|11:57 am - Ficlet: Sink Them In (Dean/Lindsey, R)|
Prompts: Dean/Lindsey, blood
Ficlet: Sink Them In (Dean/Lindsey, R)
Word Count: 270
"Is it a kink or something?" Dean asks, sweating as he rubs his hand over his neck and looks at the smears of red on his fingers when he pulls them back.
Lindsey frowns, pushes tangled hair out of his face as he kneels beside Dean, covers twisted under him. "Is what a kink?" He pushes the wrinkled sheets off onto the floor and collapses with a satisfied groan, bouncing the mattress and Dean both.
"This whole need you seem to have to draw blood whenever you fuck," Dean points out, he fingers held out for evidence when Lindsey huffs in annoyance at the answer. "Seriously, man. I'm startin' to wonder if I need to check you for fangs."
Lindsey grabs Dean's wrist, pulls the sticky fingertips to his mouth, sucks the blood smears from them roughly. His teeth catch on each one before he lets go, smirking at Dean's expression. "If there was a need to be checkin' for fangs, you'd already be dead on the floor, Winchester. Kinda late to be worried about that now."
Dean rubs his fingers together, idly feeling the slickness of Lindsey's saliva as it slowly dries on his skin and then he shrugs and rolls to his side, reaches out and presses those same fingers to the faint scars on Lindsey's neck. "Don't know about that. Seems to me you made it out alive at least once." His dick jumps and prods Lindsey's hip, eliciting a sound from them both, groan and echo. "Up for tryin' best outta three?"
Lindsey's answer is non-verbal, all grabbing hands and rocking hips. Dean's alright with that.
Current Mood: awake
|11:15 am - I have ficlets. Let me show you them.|
Well, actually I want to write ficlets. And then show you them.
So gimme in the comments:
(1) A pairing, or a character from Buffy, Angel, Supernatural, or one of the RPS peoples that I have written (mostly from the Jossverse)
(2) A prompt - a word, a lyric, a picture, an icon, anything you like
That's it. I will write as many as I can manage.
Current Mood: energetic
August 24th, 2007
|09:45 pm - Dean actually DOES smile|
I just seem to not have any icons of him doing it.
Quick, point me to smirky, smiley, snarky, PRETTY, smiling Dean icons?
Current Mood: Lustful
|06:58 pm - Real women...|
Replace their own goddamn brake lights.
*grunts, pounds chest*
Dean, get in the kitchen and make me some pie!
Current Mood: satisfied
August 23rd, 2007
|08:31 am - It's hard out here for a chef|
Oh, Michael Chiarello, you wacky guy!
I know your pans are close to the second coming of Christ in quality and all but are you SERIOUS? Six. hundred. Dollars. It's for six pans and don't even get me started about how they count lids as pieces just like pans. But I was too busy with sticker shock and hyperventilation to not exclaim -- out loud at work no less -- "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?"
Great, now I have a $600 pan craving. Damn him and his gray salt.
Current Mood: Amazed
August 19th, 2007
|08:22 pm - Stuff (and nonsense)|
The things you hear when you're riding in the car with your kids... My middle child recently bought this hoodie and was wearing it tonight in the car. Why this is important, I have no idea, just proves how utterly out of things I am.
The following conversation took place as I was driving us out to dinner tonight:
Oldest (to middle child): Why did you buy that anyway, it makes you look straight edge.
Middle Child: It does not. And I am, so what?
Oldest: Yeah but it makes you look like the ones who walk around shoving their hands at you, all in your face.
Middle: I don't do that.
Oldest: Well that hoodie makes you look like you're going to.
Middle: So? Aren't you too? You don't drink or smoke or do drugs.
Oldest: No but I make out with my girlfriend so I'm not strictly straight edge.
Me: OK CHANGE OF TOPIC!!
Sometimes I am very sure that I am not cut out to be the mama. But then we proceeded to have a very nice dinner out with steak and steamed veggies and potato and the kids all had dessert that was the size of smallish mountains made of chocolate and mousse and ice cream and caramel and fudge. My stomach hurt just looking at them. I had a taste of the cake, it made me dizzy from the sugar rush and it was less than an actual spoonful. That was two hours ago and they are in the kitchen right now looking for a snack.
Ow, my tummy!
In other news, I am not much for posting at LJ anymore and not much for keeping up wtih 4 journals. I think I am going to post here for mostly everything. I am not taking a stance on what anyone else might choose to do -stay at LJ, leave LJ, it's YOUR money, it's YOUR journal, you do what you want to do because I am doing what I want to do and would be highly insulted if someone tried to tell me my choice was right or wrong. I'm just saying that though I have some ficathons I have contributed to on LJ, and I will honor those and post the fics there as needed, I am more or less moving here. Already there is so much less stress in opening up the page to read the FList that I breathe a sigh of relief every single time I do it.
I will keep my LJ account to keep up with friends who are still remaining there. I will not be renewing it. I have gone off of automatic payments.
In other news, all RL related - I am in the process of applying for a mortgage to buy the house I grew up in. Prayers, candles, (non-living) sacrifices in the name of the deity of your choice on my behalf all gratefull accepted with thanks.
*flail* ohmygodiamoutofmymind! *flail*
Current Mood: drained
August 17th, 2007
|12:27 pm - Answering the Interview Meme|
What is your favorite childhood memory?
I grew up with my grandparents and my aunt and uncle. They spoiled me, of course, when I wasn't being a total brat. My favorite childhood memory is driving with my uncle in his Mustang (red with black pony seats, OMGYAY!) and him letting me shift gears. It was night time, we were on the highway and he would say "now!" and I'd shift and feel the car surge forward faster and faster. I *know* this is where my love of Mustangs comes from. Sadly I can't drive stick worth a hoot.
Who is more alpha, Sam or Dean? Think about this very carefully.
Oh it's pretty simple to me that Sam is the alpha there. He's not even a 'topping from the bottom' alpha, he is flat out Head Bitch In Charge. Dean adores him, anything and everything Sammy wants or thinks he wants or might want or used to want but maybe forgot about? Dean is all over providing. Translate at will. ;)
I have a question, what is "the gay supremacy hour?" I just looked through your user interests and I have no clue.
This comes from the age of time when "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" was the newest, hottest thing around and everyone wanted them to be their new GayBestFriend.
What's your favourite story (that you've written)?
"Rainmakers" - no doubt. :) I love my big gay OTP!
What's your favourite pairing of all the ones you've written/read?
I'm cheating and breaking it down my fandom (because I'm like that)
Angel: Lindsey/Angel if we're keeping it in the one show. Lindsey/Riley if we're crossing over.
Buffy: Xander/Riley (see above)
Supernatural: Sam/Dean all the way baby!
Dark Tower: Cuthbert/Alain
Firefly: Hmmm, I never wrote much in here but I think that I like Tamcest best
Smallville: Clark/Lex 4eva *draws hearts*
RPS: Chris Kane/Dave Boreanaz
AC/DC, Bruce Springsteen (i'm diverse)
Um. Right at this moment in time I am compulsively listening to "Harder to Breathe" (Maroon 5)on repeat. Does this count?
If you were a jack-o-lantern, what would you look like?
Roundish and orange? ;)
1. Have you always lived on the east coast?
Not only have I always been on the east coast, I have only every lived within 6 blocks of the house I grew up in.
2. Did you see Brokeback Mountain in the theater? Have you read the short story?
I didn't see the movie at the theatre when it was out, though I did want to. I saw it on DVD, and waited until my GF could see it with me. I read the short story a long time ago and it made me sob like a baby. Still does. The movie? Less impact.
3. What is your favorite thing about you (could be physical feature, personality trait, skill, whatever)?
I like my mouth. And I kind of like my writing on a good day if I squint into the sun and look at it sideways.
4. What is your guilty pleasure in fic?
Hmmm, well... let's see. I don't think I should like first time, almost forced fic as much as I do but it hits a kink.
5. If you could be one place in the world other than where you are now, where would it be?
Jensen Ackles's bed? No? Sorry, one track mind. In Blackpool!
If you had to pick one fandom and give up all the others, which would it be?
Dude! That's like asking me to pick one organ and give up all the rest! I think it would have to be Buffy/Angel. I might not be as active as I used to be but I can't give up my first (fandom)love.
What food or drink could you not live without?
Did Riley do the right thing by leaving on that helicopter when Buffy was running after him?
*sigh* Yeah, he clearly needed to get himself out before he was drained or turned. I think he did love her, but it was a destructive relationship for him. Whoever Buffy was meant to be with, I don't think she was ready for it to be Riley. (Cookie dough references inserted here)
If you could live as a fictional character who would it be?
Wow. That's tough. If you mean an existing one then I would say... Faith. I love her toughness, she's hot as hell and she's working towards being something better.
If you could choose the last question, what would it be, and what would you answer?
Heh - ok. The question I choose is "Which Winchester is hottest?"
And my answer is... John. Yes, seriously. WWJWD? ANYONE HE WANTS!
Still open to taking more, feel free to comment to this entry if you want to ask me something, anything, you know the drill.
Current Mood: accomplished
August 13th, 2007
|01:54 pm - FIC: Stillness Between Moments (wesley/Connor - NC17)|
TITLE: Stillness Between Moments
SUMMARY: Nothing is as it seems, nothing is as you'd expect.
DISCLAIMER: They belong to M.E., not me.
WRITTEN FOR: mireille719, who asked for a radio, a bad habit, hunting someone or something, written for MaleSlashMinis on LJ
A/N: follow fic
( sleeping... )
August 10th, 2007
|04:38 pm - Intro to new people from that friending meme|
Hi, welcome to the JF version of me. I've moved all my LJ over here and am in the process of putting my fics in the memories.
If you want to skip the whole memory process, then my fics are all here: biblioteque
Multifandom, but you'll see it's way heavy with the Buffy and Angel stuff. But not Buffy/Angel. Slash. 99.99% slash. Some RPS, too, so 'ware if you're not of a mind to read that sort of thing.
I plan to post here and not so much at LJ anymore, so there's nothing happening at the LJ account that's not also posted here. Not that any of you were worried about missing a single scintillating moment of me bitching about parking in the Wawa or how my job sucks.
I rant, I make random fannish squee, I obsess about SPN and so on. I'll friend back anyone who friends me, and won't bite off heads if someone un-friends me. The drama quotient here will be low, even if the bitchery will at times be high.
Oh and feel free to ask me anything you want in the comments. In fact, by GOD, let's do the Fabulous Five Question Meme!
(1) Ask me any five questions you like. I'll answer.
(2) In return, you post this in your own JF and open yourself up to the same.
(3) Let's hug it out, bitch. Never mind. Just the two will do.
Current Mood: pleased
Current Music: AC/DC - She's Got The Jack
August 8th, 2007
|01:36 pm - Y.E.D. AT SUPERNATURAL CREATION CONVENTION|
SUPERNATURAL CHICAGO EVENT:
ANOTHER NEW GUEST ANNOUNCED TODAY
We're pleased to announce today that FREDRIC LEHNE, "The Yellow Eyed Demon" of SUPERNATURAL has signed aboard the Salute to SUPERNATURAL, BUFFY and SMALLVILLE CONVENTION, making his first appearance with us. Fredric is one of Hollywood's hardest working actors seen in shows including GHOST WHISPERER, LOST (as Marshall Edward Mars in 8 episodes), BONES, MEDIUM, JAG, FIREFLY, CSI, THE X-FILES, DALLAS and so many more.
Make your plans now to be on hand for the fun as we come to Chicago's HYATT REGENCY WOODFIELD on November 10-11. Announced guests scheduled so far include:
Sam Winchester of the hit series SUPERNATURAL
Xander Harris in Buffy the Vampire Slayer
This talented actress plays Ellen Harvelle in Supernatural (she runs The Roadhouse truck stop), Deckhand Pollux in Battlestar Galactica, Nina Jarvis in 4400, Warden Anita Stone in Smallville, and Dr. Raully in Stargate SG 1.
Steve has had several original songs placed in film and television projects including "Night Time" placed in the WB's "Supernatural" last year. One track from the album, "Now That My Love Is Gone" has been placed in the upcoming film "Be My Baby". Other films in which Steve's had song placement include "Just Married", "Life Or Something Like It", and “Memore” Steve will be performing a concert at the convention... something to look forward to!
Current Mood: full
|08:29 am - Ficathon reminder|
Just my own personal reminder here:
maleslashminis (Wesley Round) -- Due August 12
SPN_Remix -- due October 2
creep_fest -- due October 13
SPN_fairytales -- due October 15
SPN_palencar due October 15
Note to self: THIS IS CALLED INSANITY! THIS IS CALLED OVER-EXTENDING YOURSELF! STOP THAT!
OK, back to work. Yup.
Current Mood: busy