whynot | my hands are your red carpet and your smile the flashing lights

Entry tags:

my hands are your red carpet and your smile the flashing lights

dollsome | Morgana, Arthur. How this went from boring ship to one of my favorite ships, I'm still not sure.

shades of earth by

lettersandliars | Amy, Eleven, and Vincent Van Gogh. If I can't have the three of them time-traveling together, I can at least have this fic.

Tweet by Oyl Miller | "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by brevity, over-connectedness, emotionally starving for attention, dragging themselves through virtual communities at 3 am, surrounded by stale pizza and neglected dreams."

The Thousand Little Gods by

zanzekiel | Dean/Cas, Gabe/Dean. Dreams, disorder, and dangerous hobbies.

Naming the Walls by

shantirosa | Hindu Desichesters and Muslim Desi Harvelles written for Revenge Racebending.

Time I Was On My Way (See How They Run Remix) by

essenceofmeanin | Dean, John, Sam. Five times Dean does drugs.

Days Without Feathers by

pyrebi | Jess's mom POV, and all the horror and heartbreak that entails.

O Drom si Baro (The Road is Long) by

keerawa | Romachesters written for Revenge Racebending.

Vid: Out of My Mind | THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE DEAN AWAY HA HA HO HO HEE HEE

Impossible to Tell by

candle_beck | Dean/John-ish, Dean/Sam. Hello there, heretofore unknown daddycest kink.

Okay, I don't write a lot of porn, but I feel like trying my hand it again. Dear readers, if you would kindly comment with a Supernatural ship any Supernatural ship, including crossover ones, I will strive to reply with a pornlet.

[originally posted at http://whynot.dreamwidth.org/31344.html |

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Dean has a habit of stating the obvious, yeah, he knows this. So what? Every damn day now, he wants to hold Sam's face in his hands and wonder, "You're alive." Ten fingers, ten toes, breathing, heart rate stable, ascertaining normality like a doctor after childbirth. Yes, this child has emerged from the ether. This child will live, and I give him to you.

"I thought we were going to Wytheville?" Sam asks, but no, Dean takes them east until they hit the Atlantic. He gets a room at a seaside inn that's a little pricier than their usual fare, and Sam asks, "What are you doing?"

"Gotta take the hairshirt off sometimes, huh, Sammy?" Dean says. "Live a little."

Sam was about to say some smartass thing, Dean can tell, but at the last three words, he just closes his mouth again.

"You take your nose out of those books, young man, and come out like a real boy," Dean says when Sam's knee-deep in ancient lore about gray magic. Dean comes back with pizza and a six-pack, and how is he supposed to enjoy his dinner when Sam is pulling that Eeyore shit? Always with the Eeyore shit. Sam looks up at him with that long-suffering expression and says his name, and Dean just offers him the first bottle of beer.

They finish only half the pizza, but all of the beer. Sam follows Dean down to the shoreline, and splashes Dean back when Dean splashes him. They roll their jeans up to their knees and have a stone-skipping contest (Sam wins), and as the sun bows low and paints the whole beach orange, Dean grabs a fistful of Sam's shirt and pulls him close, kisses him. Keeps on kissing Sam until he relaxes and kisses back, cups Dean's face in his hands and kisses back, and Dean thinks it's worth it for this.

+

"You're alive," Dean feels like saying when they tumble onto the bed. He pushes up Sam's shirt and mouths the words against his belly, has to resist from giving him a raspberry because that would just ruin the mood. Sam reaches forward and grabs Dean's shirt, and Dean rolls back, letting the shirt slide off him.

"And this," Sam says, tugging at Dean's belt when he tries to crawl back on top of Sam.

Blood that runs through veins, air that rides inside it. The vigor with which Sam pushes Dean against the headboard and claims his mouth, bites his way down Dean's neck, bites Dean's nipple hard enough for Dean to flinch and go, "Hey, watch it." Sam just grins. He just smiles this wicked smile up at him like Dean doesn't even know the half of it. Dean is naked but Sam is still clothed, and he would make a bigger deal about it, but Sam is kissing his way down Dean's stomach, and a wise man probably once said, "It's difficult to be angry when someone's giving you a blow job."

Sam licks the tip; he always starts that way. Sam closing his eyes and sliding his lips over his cock, swirling his tongue over the head of it. Licks up the underside of his cock, all up and down his shaft, and then Sam closes his hand around it, takes as much as he can into his mouth. The sight of it is wonderfully obscene, and Dean can feel Sam's throat work, and Dean tangles one hand in Sam's hair, but Sam swats it away.

"Dude," Sam says, and his lips are wet, puffy and pink. "You know I hate it when you do that."

Dean holds up his hands. "'Kay, whatever, don't stop."

So Sam continues.

+

Afterward, Sam is lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow under his head and quiet with contented aftermath. Dean is making his way up his brother's back. One kiss at the small of it, a handful more up his spine. Sam, vital and warm beneath him, not a miracle, but the opposite of one. Dean presses his cheek between Sam's shoulder blades, and closes his eyes. Drapes his body along the length of his brother, and makes a satisfied noise in his throat. Sam is damp and surprisingly pliant and alive, and Dean finds himself saying, "I can't believe it."

"Can't believe what?" Sam murmurs. "Dude, you're heavy."

"I ain't heavy, I'm your brother."

Sam shifts and half-rolls, and Dean lets himself slide off Sam and lie on his back. They stay like that for a while, nothing in the air except dust motes in sunlight and the sound of the surf outside. It whispers in, it whispers out back to sea. The next day they'll be back on the road and hunting a wampus cat in Wytheville, but right now he is thinking of that seafood shack he saw down the beach. He and Sam can have dinner there. It's been a while since Dean's eaten clams.

Then, "Dean," Sam says. "What you did--"

"Hey."

"Dean--"

"Sam."

Sam raises his head, and the shadow of his bangs cast his eyes in shadow. "What, so are we not going to talk about it?"

Dean reaches over and brushes Sam's bangs to the side. "What is there to talk about?"

Because yeah, Dean has a habit of stating the obvious, but he doesn't go back on deals. He doesn't give up on his brother, and he only looks back if the view is good.

"C'mere," says Dean.

And Sam looks at him for one beat, for two beats, before shifting closer and closing his eyes as Dean leans in for a kiss.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
so I'm dumb and I was sitting staring at my inbox going OKAY WHAT COMES AFTER PART ONE and then I went back to the thread and OF COURSE your comment response to your comment doesn't show up in my inbox, sfdljfsd

ANYWAY

aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Every damn day now, he wants to hold Sam's face in his hands and wonder, "You're alive."

NO WORDS <33333

EEYORE SAM. eeyore sam! aaaahhhh

He pushes up Sam's shirt and mouths the words against his belly, has to resist from giving him a raspberry because that would just ruin the mood.
:DDDD this is both hot and mood-ruining, ah I love them I love playful Dean

mmmmmm bickery teasing blowjob times. mmmm lying all over each other nekkid. this = guh. and and, sam is the opposite of a miracle, ffffff I cannot even! *flail*

lolol whoops, maybe I should've replied both replies to your comment but OH WELL. You have found it all now. XD Yaaaaaayyyy! All my Wincest are belong to you.

I have started reading the Donald Duck article and I'm not done yet, but my initial reactions is that the author seems kinda one-sided about what the colonized SHOULD want. Like, the colonized should want what the colonizer should want, or else they are weak. My question is, just because the colonist 'tricked' the colonized, does that always put the colonized in the disadvantaged position?

PFF I am a seasoned ljer, I should know these things XD

I didn't so much get that impression from the author as I did from the source material? But yeah, by pointing out how the strip limits them to "magic watches" or a special connection with the land, they kind of invalidate any other option other than wanting what the colonizer wants them to. Which oddly enough lands us back with the same problem of prescribing things to them... I do like this question you have! It's like... the author realizes there's something wrong with ascribing the natives a disadvantaged position, but can't help doing it himself?

I mostly skimmed it, tbh, so I don't remember too much in too much detail. One thing was the stuff about Latin America and setting stereotypes against each other - it seemed close but not quite to me. Like, yeah Latin American countries have stereotypes of each other and are kinda pretty divided, but that's more historical than contemporary-media-driven, and I don't think national stereotypes had much to do with the bloody wars of the 1800s and the fractiousness of Bolivar and San Martin's shortlived united dream republics.

the author realizes there's something wrong with ascribing the natives a disadvantaged position, but can't help doing it himself?
Yes! Like, "oh it is unfair that we always show the natives preferring, like, trees over gold" or whatever. But then this is also imposing a value system on the natives. It is implied that the natives should value what the colonists value, because the natives' own value system is dumb. I dunno, maybe the article will get deeper into this later. I guess what the article is saying is not that the natives' values should change, but that they should be more... aware, or know how to avoid the colonists' tricks. But the two are related; I wonder how to go about deconstructing the issue.

The Latin American stereotypes of Latin America is really fascinating. Most articulations of the arguments against racism and cultural bigotry that I've seen are white vs. brown, but totally yes, there are yellow vs. brown, yellow vs. black, black vs. brown, but I don't see those discussed as often as white vs. everyone else. Indonesians vs. Malaysians, Malays vs. Chinese, Malays vs. West Papuans, etc.

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my hands are your red carpet and your smile the flashing lights

post-S2 - pt. 1

post-S2 - pt. 2

Re: post-S2 - pt. 2

Re: post-S2 - pt. 2

Re: post-S2 - pt. 2

Re: post-S2 - pt. 2