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 |

comments]

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Oh, free porn? YAY.

Dean/Castiel, backroads.

AND A XOVER BONUS prompt:

Dean/Morgana. I don't care how, but I know you can make it work ;D

I want Dean/Susan Pevensie! Well, I don't really want porn of it, but I do want fic of it, any fic of it, so I will settle for porn. :P

thanks for the rec, lass! <3

i've been jonesing for some edmund/jadis lately, so will that work?

Cas is unrestrained when it comes to sex. He takes to it with the hunger of someone discovering it for the first time (which is true), and the persistence of someone who never seems to get tired (also true, as far as Dean knows), and sometimes it reminds Dean of opening a can of worms. Except, y'know. Awesome worms.

He doesn't know if Cas is doing it on purpose, but his hand gripping him over the handprint is kind of driving Dean crazy, kind of sending these warm shocks that shoot straight through his groin every time Cas thrusts. It's only this sensitive during sex, and damn is it ever. When Cas licked along its outline, Dean tried to throw him on the bed to fuck him, but Cas easily pinned him in place, licking the scarred skin, running his lips over it. And, just... jesus christ.

Cas is making these staggered "ahh" sounds, the most bewildered sounds Dean's heard him make. He's jacking Dean slowly, hand wet with semen and spit, thrusting into Dean just as slow, bowed head, skin flushed. Cas is learning. Ever since that first time when he almost literally tore Dean a new one, he is learning, because if there's anyone who likes to show people what's what, it's Dean. "Base rule is simple," Dean had said, undoing Cas's belt. "If it feels good, do it."

If Cas's facial expressions are inscrutable, his body in bed is easy to read. It responds with frank pleasure to Dean's body. The hand that jacks Dean off is clumsy, unfocused as Cas strives to harvest every wave of pleasure out of the experience. With his lips parted and his eyes closed and his chest heaving, Cas has never seemed more human. His wordless cries, guttural and gutted; he is suddenly just a man.

"Cas," he gasps. "Cas," and then Cas sinks himself into Dean so deep, so hard that Dean is pushed an inch up the mattress. He hovers over Dean then, his face only a few inches from his, looking wrecked, looking stubborn, and Dean raises his head to kiss him. Cas kisses back with violent hunger.

The angel wears selfishness like a sword: on and off the battlefield, it catalyzes Dean into action. It lights a fire, and Dean loves to hate it, loves to see it burn. And if there are ashes, well. Surely the future will sweep them away.

I WANT TO SEE YOUR WINCEST

AND I WANT YOU TO WRITE SOME SAM/DEAN PORN FOR ME TOO

I am demanding. *makes a demanding face like a three-year-old*

Oh, lovely and hot. You should write more D/C. *wink wink*

Thank you bb. <3

Much of my gen is basically D/C in sheep's clothing. ;)

Thank YOU! <3

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.

You're welcome! <33

Ummm, I cannot write Narnia porn. It's just not how that fandom is wired in my head, sorry. However! I would write you Edmund/Jadis non-porn, or otherwise you can pick a Supernatural ship for me to porn... like I asked. ;)

...Wow, obviously my brain is shortcircuiting because I did not see that you said Supernatural. Anyway! I am totally down with non-porn or you could just totally disregard this because I didn't pay attention to the post *facepalm*

I will non-porn Dean/Susan for you, Betsy. <3

Cassie is still a fresh wound when Dean meets Susan, and to his great shame, he ends up talking to her about Sam instead of trying to sleep with her. He's so shitty at rebounds, he swears to fucking god. He's not very good at distractions. Dean has been raised from day one to pay attention to absence and pain.

They start arguing around the third drink.

"People grow up," she shrugs. "What else would you have them do? Cling to childhood fantasies? Close themselves off from the world?"

"It's not fantasy," Dean spits out. He really wishes she'd stop using that word. "It's family. It's duty."

"Duty to what?"

"To family, man. And the family business."

Susan stirs her whiskey sour. "What business are you in again?"

"I'm in the goddamn mafia, what does it matter what business I'm in?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Touchy. Tell me, Dean, you've never had duty betray you?"

"What are you talking about?" he mutters.

"Someone gives you a blessing. They say to you, this is for you, you are for this. You give it your all, and sometimes you can't tell if it's because you want to or because it's just how it's meant to be."

"I don't believe in destiny, Sue," Dean smirks.

She frowns. "Don't call me Sue."

"Just don't call you late for dinner, huh?"

"What?" But Susan shrugs him off, continues, "So you give it your all. You're told, give to it and it will give to you."

"Lady, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't call me lady."

"Well, jesus, what should I call you, then? 'Your highness'?"

And she smiles. "That's a start."

+

"What I'm saying," Susan says, and Dean looks down at her hand when she covers his, "is let go."

The reply slips out of him before he can stop himself, crackly and hoarse and ashamed. "I can't."

+

In front of the bar, they prepare to part ways, maybe.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Dean asks, 'cause he may be drunk right now, but he can be a gentleman if he wants to. "Don't want to leave you alone. Uh. I mean, this isn't a bar where the good tourists go."

Susan laughs. "I'll be fine. I'm waiting for a friend. What about you? Will you be all right?"

"My motel's just up the road, I can walk."

"That's good." She reaches up and straightens his hair with a card of her fingers, and the gesture surprises him.

"Not very nice of your friend," Dean says, "keeping you waiting like this."

"What can I say? She's a busy girl."

"She?"

"And I had you company." Susan smiles, and Dean wonders if he should kiss her. And then her face lights up, and she says, "There she is!"

Dean turns around as Susan says goodbye to him, and he spots a silhouette standing just outside the circle of streetlight. He can't make out much in the gloom, only the vague gleam of red hair, fluttering in the breeze.

"You take care of yourself, Dean," Susan says, and when he turns to look back at her, she leans in and brushes her lips against his. "Know when to let go," she whispers, and then she smiles, and Dean blinks.

"See ya," Dean says, feeling stupid, watching her jog to her friend.

Dean looks back at the bar door. It's not that late yet, he can squeeze in a couple more drinks. Maybe he can play some pool, make some money, salvage the night. Images of Cassie ghost through his mind, and Dean thinks yeah, another drink. Hey, maybe instead of pool, Susan and her friend can join him for even more booze, and he turns around to call out to her, but to his surprise, the street is empty.

Ahh this is FANTASTIC!

OMG YOU ARE THE MOST AWESOME. Susan/Anna AND Susan/Dean? It is like Christmaaaas! <333333 the street is emptyyyy. she straightens his hair! omg, Susan cannot stop being a big sister ever, can she? he's in the goddamn mafia! this is just so wonderful! thank youuuuu.

SUSAN/ANNA <3 <3 <3

<333 Hahaha yay omg, I get nervous about porn-making so this is <3 to hear. Thank you!

Think of it as TimeLord!Anna and companion!Susan traveling through space-time trying to fix the universe. YOU are wonderful and thank YOU. <3

They are my crossover OTP. <3 <3 <3 <3

You clearly shouldn't be nervous about porn-making. In fact, you should probably make more porn. :D

The world needs more Anna femmeslash!

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.

DEAN AND SUSAN AND STOLEN DESTINY OMFG. Also, ANNA/SUSAN YES.

but if you are still up for it can I have some ruby/hermione? It does not have to be porn (in fact I would be 110% okay with nonporn) but I am such a sucker for cracky femslash ships.

OTHERWISE, if you are too wtf at that, Dean/Hermione? omfg I just want to ship Hermione with everyone, what is wrong with me.

Too late for this?
Jimmy/Amelia. Set in time: either before 4x20 altogether or after the hand-in-boiling-water incident.

I HAVE ANNA/SUSAN ALL PLOTTED OUT IN MY HEAD, I JUST NEED TO WRITE IT SOMEDAY

WHAT TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT.

Check out this Susan/Jadis drabble: http://slippery-fish.livejournal.com/1744121.html?thread=9590777

I started commentficcing this with Betsy, I wish I had the link. But okay. SO. It's after the train crash right, Susan is going about her life when suddenly this girl with red hair like MAGICALLY APPEARS.

"Susan!" she says. "Hi, how's your foot doing?"

Susan blinks. "Do I know you?"

And the girl's smile falters, but then an "oh" look comes on her face and she asks, "What's the date?"

"The 21st."

"Oh. Well, that explains it." Anna's still trying to get the hang of time-jumping (PRACTICING FOR TIME-JUMPING TO THE 70s FOR WINCHESTER-KILILNG MAYBE?), and she overshot a couple of days. "Anyway. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow."

Next morning, someone steps on Susan's foot on the way to work.

Susan meets Anna, they have Deep Sad Convos. Anna comes and goes. Susan never asks her to stay. But sometimes Anna stays. Maybe Anna also takes Susan to the moon? Somehow it comes out that Anna's an angel. That part is important, because then this needs to happen:

Anna takes Susan to the train station, a few years ago. She picks out her siblings easily in the crowd, so easily. Anna hangs back. Lucy spots Susan first, of course. "Susan!" she yells happily, and Edmund and Peter turn around.

"You came after all," Peter says, and that grin, it takes Susan apart. But steady now.

"Of course," Susan says, and she's trying not to cryyyyyy.

Peter can tell. "We'll be back soon, silly girl."

Susan says she knows, she knows.

She straightens Peter's lapels. She fixes Edmund's cap even as Edmund rolls her eyes and tries to twist away, and then she smooths down Lucy's hair. She says goodbye.

Anna, at the corner of Susan's eye. She nods and holds out her hand: it's time to go.

"We'll see you soon, Su," Peter says, and Susan just nods, smiles brittly. She takes Anna's hand as a group of nuns walk by, and when they've gone, so are Susan and Anna, and in the distance, a train whistle sounds.

omfg su/jadis! surprise narnia pairing that I secretly kind of love.

WHAT.

LASS I AM IN TOO MUCH AWE AND LOVE AND !!!! TO THINK PROPERLY.

Oh god how heartbreaking! They go to the station. You came after all and she says goodbye and can I also say how much I love that Susan's wish is to be able to say goodbye to them, not to be able to die with them? Because the mistake was having her family get killed, not not dying herself.

I bet she and Anna have *lots* to talk about when they talk about God.

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

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i guess we can assume they are in a backroads motel

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post-S2 - pt. 1

post-S2 - pt. 2

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Re: post-S2 - pt. 2

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late comment is late?

also late

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