Not a fix rec but a rec to the best place the story can go... to understanding.

Jack/Ten
spoilers for Children of Earth
preslash

Even the Damned  by dameruth 

( Some thinky (and spoilerific)thoughts on Torchwood COE; in no particular order. )

Gwen Cooper is my hero!

How many episodes long is this thing anyway?

( Well, that was... Torchwood. )

At the 2K mark
a dog begins to howl
somewhere in the dark back behind my left shoulder.

Dean stumbles, loses his rhythm.
Sam tackles him into the ditch;
little brother beats hell hound every time...

...but one.

Happy Canada Day flist!

Thunder and lightening,
clouds of biting insects,
showers of frogs,
the taste of blood,
lungs struggling with heated air;
wasn't the apocalypse supposed to start in October?

Okay, fine.
I'm kidding about the frogs.
But my question still stands.

Following in the fine footsteps (typed steps?) of girlmostlikely  and destina  ... 

...I love:

Thunderstorms.  Live music.  Cats.  Fresh strawberries.  Homemade strawberry jam.  Clean sheets.  Hot showers.  Swimming in lakes.  The joy of discovering something new.  The comfort in staying with something old.  Acoustic guitars.  The 2nd kilometer of a 5K run when I'm warmed up and not even starting to tire.  Fireflies so thick along the edge of a country road you know at least some of them have to be fairies.  Live theatre.  Smart women.  Pretty men.  All three Winchesters and the actors playing them.  Witty repartee.  Baseball.  Bullriding.  Travel.  Disney World.  People who laugh.  Trek reboot.  Classic Trek.  The first Terminator movie.  Evita.  Anything written by Terry Pratchett.  The internet.  Clever icons.  MGB's.  Pickup trucks.  Southern accents.  English accents.  Heck, pretty much any accent.  Friends who say  "Let's!" when you say, "Why don't we..."  Dimples.  Muscles.  Curves.  Expensive lingerie.  Funky shoes.  Stories well told.   Meeting someone for the first time and realizing you were already friends.    Chinese food.  Mexican food.  Um... food.  Shared joy.  Shared pain.  Seagulls.  Waves.   Deep water.

I warn when I feel it's necessary.  I think that's been... maybe twice for all the many years I've been in fandom.  (if Sam/Dean is your pairing in SPN then warning for incest is a tad redundant -- check the pairing, check the rating)  It helps that I don't tend to write non-con or any of the greater or lesser variations of same.  As it happens,  you have to be a damned good writer (and some of you are) to get me to read anything rougher than dub-con.   I don't have triggers but there are plots I prefer not to spend limited time on.

As a writer, I can understand why people don't want to warn for things like character death when they've just spent thousands of words setting it up and would like it to evoke an emotional reaction.

However, as long as I post fic publicly as part of a community it's not all about me.  Reader reaction is the coin of the realm in fandom, so to say "I don't care about your reaction" seems to betray a basic misunderstanding of what's happening here.

Therefore, if I write something you find triggery that I haven't warned for, let me know.   If even I can understand instructions on how to bury warnings under white-out, it's not all that hard.

Awareness doesn't have to be complicated.

Last week destina had a birthday and she's just so amazing that we're still celebrating! Yes, it has been a week of continuous bacchanalia -- wine, Winchesters, and song!

And finally, now the song is over, fic! Thanks to merrish and lunachickk for the beta -- saggy bits have been removed and commas have been shifted one word west.

Hope you like it, Des! ::hugs you::


Eyes Wide Open
8,674 words
Sam/Dean
direct sequel to 422 LUCIFER RISING

( Thinking about it later, Dean realized he should have closed his eyes. )

Every year for Father's Day
I get John Winchester a little something.

This year,
I ran 5 kilometers. In the rain.

A more significant gift
than soap on a rope or a package of grey t-shirts.

"We're a lot cooler than that
in the world outside your head," Dean growls.

"Hey!" Sam all but bounces. "Where'd you find
soap on a rope?"

Dean sighs. "Well,
one of us is."

Is it just that I read too much gay porn or does "back door slider" sound kind of smutty?

I'm at the dentist this morning having a cracked filling replaced and I realize I'm having a lot of trouble not gagging when something goes into my mouth.

In an effort to improve things, I try a little mind over matter.

So I think of how anyone sleeping with Jared had better have lost their gag reflex entirely. Weirdly, this keeps me from choking on dental implements.

After a few moments of this, my dentist, who is a very precise, tiny woman, says, "You keep trying to smile. It's remarkably disconcerting."

And then she goes on with her drilling, and I go on with my contemplating, and Jared, well, Jared goes on. And on. And on...

You know how sometimes someone asks you for something for their birthday, like say a '67 Chevy Impala, and you can't afford it so you get them the Matchbox car for them to open at breakfast and give them their actual present later?

Well, yesterday when I was checking to make sure destina had actually asked for Sam and Dean to spend 4,200 words talking before getting to the sexin' (SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!) I had an idea about one of her other requests.

So, this is her Matchbox car fic -- exactly 100 words of oblique J2.

( Flotsam )

It's destina's birthday! ::and the crowd goes wild:: "Yay!"

For now there is swirly hugs and sparkly things and wishes for cake and ice cream!

Later there will be fic. ::feels guilty that there isn't fic right now:: There is currently 3,700 odd words (and given that this is me, many of them are less odd than might be expected) but now I got the boys talking, they won't shut up!

Me: "How about sexin' now?"
Sam: "But I'm still so conflicted..."
Me: "About the sexin'?"
Sam: "Well, no but..."
Dean: "I'm baking cookies."

So fic later! Happy birthday now!

I'm heading for the end of fleshflutter's The incestuous courtship of the antichrist's bride which, btw, you should all go read immediately, and there's a knock at the door. I live waaaaaaaaaay out in the country. If someone's knocking at my door it usually means they're in the ditch or the neighbour's cattle are standing on my front lawn.

Nope. It's a Jehovah's Witness and -- this is trufax, I swear it -- she hands me a flier for a lecture they're having on the weekend. The name of the lecture:

How Can You Survive the End of the World?

I started to laugh and every time I tried to say something, I just laughed harder. She backed away. Finally, she smiled weakly and said, "Hope to see you there." and headed for the car.

Sam Winchester and fleshflutter may have just taken me off the JW's "polite enough to bother" list.

Thank you.

And I'm still giggling.

"In what universe," John growls,
"Is on the road at 8AM,
first thing in the morning?"

my head
my rules
and that reminds me
fuck canon
Dean's running in shorts
shirtless

"Lucifer's looking better all the time,"
Dean mutters.
"She's fucking cranky in the morning."

not a morning person
and I work at home
what the hell is up with
a 7:30 alarm

you guys run without me
just this once

yeah, I didn't think
that'd work...

Those pictures of Jensen from Asylum? I'm having CJ flashbacks.

Not that I ever watched DC or anything. Because it was after all a vapid prime time soap opera dealing in nearly hysterical levels of artificial drama aimed at a demographic I most assuredly was not a part of. (PACEY! PACEY! PACEY!)

Exiting down the ladder...

the sun is shining
birds are singing
the apocalypse has been delayed until October
I'm surrounded by Winchesters
and even John agrees
that sometimes you run
for the joy of being able to run

life is good