Man Writing Slash

Thoughts on "Changing Channels"

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 07:10:31 GMT

1. I LOVE MY SHOW. It should get an Emmy just for the Herpexia™ commercial. XD for days. Make way for a flood of new SPN icons. I'm not kidding, MAKE WAY.

2. Not sure I'm entirely down with Trickster = Gabriel. One, because he's a whiny brat and so very unangelic, and two, because it royally fucks up the very nice AU-Show connection I had going in my sequel-fic. I think I can still work around it by a combination of "it was another person", "there are still Tricksters" and lots of denial and sleight of hand.

I rolled around on the couch laughing with such pleasure at this ep. EVEN HUBBY WAS SMILING through his Vulcan exterior.

Because I SO need a laugh after Maine.

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 07:40:54 GMT

I said, you could practically write a whole book about what happened to me. Yes. Bunny Bixler and I were in the semi-finals--the very semi-finals, mind you--of the ping-pong tournament at the club and this ghastly thing happened. We were both playing way over our heads and the score was 29-28. And we had this really terrific volley and I stepped back to get this really terrific shot. And I stepped on the ping-pong ball!

Well, I just squashed it to bits.

And then Bunny and I ran to the closet of the game room to get another ping-pong ball and the closet was locked! Imagine? We had to call the whole thing off.

Well, it was ghastly.

Well, it was just ghastly.

FIC: "I'm mostly on Dreamwidth now" (Supernatural, Sam/Dean, G, 100 words)

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 04:21:44 GMT

Title: I'm Mostly on Dreamwidth Now
Author: write_light
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Genre: Drabble, humor
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Takes place in The Monster at the End of This Book. Written for strgazr04's prompt "Sam, Dean - sam!fans and dean!fans (i.e. TMATEOTB)" as part of The Sam and Dean Drabble-a-thon

***

"That's just sick!" Dean blurted, slamming the laptop and shoving it away.

Later, though, when Sam went out, he opened it again. There were a lot more "Sam!Girls" posting than "Dean!Girls". That hadn't escaped his attention.

"That's gotta be the book cover," he groused, and scrolled farther down.

When Sam returned, Dean was stalking the room, hand on his forehead, panicky. Sam was already by the laptop when Dean lurched toward him, too late.

"You found … a Sam!Boy?" Sam asked, his lips curling slightly.

"There's "Sam!Boys," but no "Dean!Boys! How – WHY?!"

"Because I don't post on this site."

"Whut?"

H1N1 Proximity

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:11:49 GMT

Last week: Me } Friend/Family } FOAF } FOAFOAF H1N1 (death)

This week: Me } Friend/Family } FOAF H1N1 (death)

How you doin' out there, flist?

Favorite name: Hamthrax

What Scares You? (TV Version)

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 18:10:34 GMT

Add your own!

For me: THIS. Just watching a 48-second clip of the scariest part and I'm all goose-pimply and freaked out. This ep scared the living daylights out of me when I was a kid. And it still does. Very daring for a prime-time show, and especially daring for the fourth episode of a series.

Next Tuesday, gay marriage lives or dies in Maine.

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 06:22:14 GMT

I refer you to the exceptional diary of Bill in Portland Maine, which includes a naked guessing game. Let's see how well YOU score!

Which did he make up, which are fake? Answers in the link above/below.

All you have to do is guess which of these comments about Maine's upcoming ballot Question 1 are real---i.e. from letters and opinion columns published in the Portland Press Herald, Bangor Daily News or Portland Daily Sun---and which are ones I just made up to sound crazy. This is tougher than it looks. Good luck!

1) Gay rights advocates sneer at the common-sense objection that homosexual relations cannot be considered natural or normal. One need merely look at human anatomy and consider the consequences if all sex were homosexual sex to grasp this obvious and intuitive fact.
2) The gay rights movement wants us to believe that Question 1 is an issue of equality. They do not plan to stop here. This is not about equality, it is about totality. When do we stop allowing the desires of the few to become the laws of the many?
3) We will no longer be able to live in accordance with the lessons as our ancestors taught us.
4) Just as an alcoholic or gambler or domestic abuser or chronically ill person must live differently from the rest of us, so must homosexuals not expect their lives to mimic that of their parents or heterosexual siblings or friends.
5) Just as hair washing does not equal tooth brushing, nothing but one man and one woman will ever equal marriage.
6) If Question 1 fails and LD 1020 takes effect, the institution of marriage as it has been known for centuries would be completely obliterated.
7) Those who deliberately choose homosexuality are now asking Maine voters not for help to overcome it but for enabling, to support an "addiction" that is unhealthy, contrary to nature and has proven to ultimately end in an untimely and often tragic demise.
8) Marketing this lifestyle as "normal" has a high probability of confusing socially awkward children and encouraging experimentation during their early years. It is a recruitment program for the homosexual lobby.
9) Do a majority in Maine really wish we would revert back into a heathen nation?

Ready to check your answers?

SPN 5x09 WTF? (spoilery picture) Did they do this on purpose?

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 18:57:52 GMT

I'm just saying, this isn't how things look. SPOILER PIC below cut.

Photo from andreas_ri

There just ARE NOT that many guys at a Supernatural Convention. Honestly. I've been to two myself, and I'm a guy. We're like 10% IF THAT, and we're not all wearing "Dean jackets" and what appear to be "Sam windbreakers". :D

I will have to wait to see what promises to be a glorious episode, but this seems to be unlike any SPN fan con I've ever heard of.

Slogan FAIL

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 04:28:16 GMT

Really, Trojan? Is that what you vetted? Is that the slogan you want to run with? As in "Feels like nothing's there," she said?

Trust me, as a guy, I don't want to say that sentence when I'm having sex.

Video Contest: Health Care Reform - Voting!

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 20:46:42 GMT

http://my.barackobama.com/VideoChallenge

Each video is self-made by individuals who hope to shift the direction of American health care from worse to better. Please take a few minutes to watch the 30-second videos and vote on all or some of them.

Some are hilarious, some are sad - you get to vote on message, creativity and impact.

Which one is your favorite?

Fic Meme

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 02:28:13 GMT

Swiped from kitanachan

Pick a paragraph/passage of under 250 words from any story I've written and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, what's going on in the characters' heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, or anything else that you'd like to know.

My fics are listed top right in my journal, apart from the recent drabbles, which are tagged as such. :)

And the Apocalypse is upon us

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 03:31:14 GMT

Octomom: Jon's 'Hot'

No, don't click on it. Just cover your ears and eyes and repeat with me:
'SHUT UP GO AWAY STOP TALKING, ALL OF YOU'

FIC: Harvest Gold?! || spnwriterlounge Picture-Perfect Day Challenge || Dean/Sam Drabble

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 16:39:04 GMT

Author: write_light
Disclaimer: All power to Kripke.
Rating: PG-13, for language
Genre: Missing Scene
Word Count: 100-word drabble (well, 92 words but eight of them are hyphenated; to be fair, I counted them separately.)
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam
Warnings: Coarse language, Spoilers for 5x04
Summary: Final scene of 5x04, "The End"; Dean's internal monologue.

Written for the spnwriterlounge "Picture-Perfect Day" challenge, inspired by this:

Look at that piece of shit he's driving. He shows his face, wants back in, and then he comes riding up in that… god, I can't even look at him – it. IT. Now I know where Lucifer got his white suit – from the sweaty comb-over guy who sold you that, you dumb fuck. Sammy, if you paid good money for that bucket of… Yeah, that's right, you stop waaaaay over there, Sam. I can hear that engine lisping from here. Keep your goddamn Lincoln-Continental-with-little-back-windows-made-for-douchebags cooties off my baby. Fuck, I missed you.

And if you don't believe me, take a look at what Sam rolled up in.

On the Wings of Angels //supernatural100 challenge: "Pick Any Two" //Mary Sue & Angels

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 04:13:35 GMT

Title: "On the Wings of an Angel"
Author: write_light
Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel
Pairings: Implied Castiel/Sam, UST
Rating: PG
Genre: Badfic on purpose, Crack
Prompt #200: Pick Any Two (I picked Mary Sue & Angels!)
Summary: Dean/Castiel? Smokescreen.
Warnings: No offense intended, I just question Castiel's motives. Stalking. Crushes.
Author's Notes: A 100-word drabble for the supernatural100 prompt: "#200. Pick Any Two."

_______

Castiel, enveloped in his raven-haired, soulful-eyed vessel, knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted Mr. Winchester for his own. He watched shyly from afar for a long time. Shy Guys Rule #1: Hang around with the older brother.

Sam was apparently bi, with that demon he was always doing things with. Getting Dean out of Hell – THAT would make Sam pay attention. Rescue that BFF of a brother of his. THAT would make him grateful!

He could still smell Sam, drink him in with soulful blue eyes, waiting patiently til he realized what a great guy Cas really was.

FIC: Inkstains || Top Chef RPS

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 15:33:26 GMT

Title: Inkstains
Author: write_light
Genre: Top Chef Slash, Voltsex
Pairing: Bryan Voltaggio/Michael Voltaggio
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: RPS, mildly incestuous, making fun of Eli and Mike I. Set in Season 6 between Ep 7 and Ep 8.
Word Count: 2777
Disclaimer: FICTIONAL. This is not a comment on the actual sexuality of these two men. I own my story but nothing else from Bravo. No offense intended.
A/N: I knew there was a story there; it just took a while for it to develop. After Ep 8, I had it, fully formed. I'm making up some of the interior and exterior living spaces, so just go with it.
Summary: Bryan comforts Michael after his near-loss, but it turns out the best comfort comes from freaking out the dickheads they live with. Tattoo-fetish too. Bryan's a complex guy.
Teaser (Actual quotes from Ep 8): Michael: I'll take the risk before Bryan will. Kevin: Michael tries to manipulate his brother.

Being on the bottom hurt. It felt like being a bottom, a dark college secret that Bryan Voltaggio would take to his grave. Not even his baby brother Michael knew that story. And here was Michael now, sitting across from him in the dank cave that the show called a waiting room, dimly lit by humming fluorescents that turned Michael's forearm tattoo six shades of gray. It felt more like a slaughterhouse.

Bryan was directly across the little semi-circle of folding chairs, telling Eli and Ash to shut the fuck up about who made what and who tasted whose, and no one cared anyway it was over now. Bryan's little brother was mirroring him, arms folded, long legs out and crossed one over the other, eyes down, seething.

Bryan knew what it was – a mixture of shame and self-doubt, major flagellation over minor errors and a gamble that hadn't panned out. And losing to his big brother, as usual. Bryan shut down the others' conversation quickly in the soft, utterly serious, take-charge way he had always had about him, and for that, Michael appreciated him, for once.

In the end, Michael survived, but the damage was done. He was so thrown off stride that he set his bag down in the living room back at their group house, and just stopped there. Bryan was halfway up the stairs when he realized Michael wasn't beside him. He turned back and saw the flat, dejected expression on his brother's face. Michael was lost in thought, staring at the floor, immobile. Time for a big-bro pick-me-up.

They had a long and close friendship, so Michael was half-expecting Bryan to fall into this comforting role. It was comforting. It was also patronizing and humiliating, but he could push those off for a day or so and just enjoy the concern. Bryan was standing in front of him now, trying to lift his brother's face up with just a tilt of his head, a tug of his eyes, and a murmur they both understood.

Bryan put his hand around the back of Michael's tense neck and squeezed. Michael exhaled the stress of the day, the month, the hatred of Toby and Padma and at least three of the housemates he heard laughing upstairs. The camera crew had left them alone this evening, and the room was mostly dark now, lit by the porch and patio lights, a shaft of yellow from the kitchen that caught Michael's profile as he finally looked up at Bryan, and a dim glow spilling down the staircase that just barely lit the shadowed areas of his face.

"Sit down," Bryan ordered. Michael resisted, then sat, because Bryan's hand had left his neck and pointed at the couch. He settled there, staring at his knife kit on the table. Bryan sat next to him, one leg up folded under him, the other stretched out. His hand was back on Michael's neck, rubbing softly.

"You know it was just the fish. They had to find something. It's not your cooking."  

"Can we not talk about it." It wasn't even a question anymore.

Michael lost it momentarily, a single tear rolling down.

"Damn."

Bryan grabbed his brother's head and pulled him over into a big, one-arm manhug, then shoved him back upright.

Eli and Mike came loudly down the stairs. Eli was talking food – food he cooked best, food he wanted to try, food he wanted to shove in his mouth right at that moment. Mike belched. And then he saw the brothers.

"You guys always sit so close?" he sneered.

Even his homophobia was half-assed. He paused at the bottom of the stairs as Eli kept going toward the kitchen, toward food.  

"Why don't you give each other backrubs?" He chuckled a grating, immature little chuckle, and that caught Eli's attention.

Eli turned around and saw pretty much what Mike saw – two guys sitting really close on the couch, legs touching, Bryan's arm around his brother's shoulder. Bryan and Michael had been silent so far, but Bryan was getting uncomfortable and began to pull back his arm.

"No, massage my neck," Michael said, almost inaudibly, head down.

Bryan could see the corner of Michael's mouth curving up, and he got it. He stroked his brother's neck, neither a practical massage nor a sexual moment, but somewhere in between. Michael rolled his head back into it, moaning obscenely. His head lolled to the left, looking directly at Bryan, who froze. It wasn't the moan that made him freeze; it was the open, inviting, even lurid fuck-me look in Michael's eyes. He'd gone pretty long without having to think of his little brother as a sexual being of his own, and he was fine with that ignorance.

But this, this was … non-ignorance. It was pretty electrifying. And it freaked Mike out completely.

"Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you two?! Stop it!"

Michael rested on Bryan's hand, licking his lower lip subtly, then his upper lip. He leaned in and planted a fat wet kiss on Bryan's mouth before anyone could react.

"Oh hell, you are sick!" shouted Eli, backing away in disgust.

Mike continued to freak out. And for once, Bryan decided to take the stick out of his butt and play one of Michael's dangerous no-boundaries games. He ran his hand along Michael's thigh, but copped out a good six inches from completely making Mike's head explode.   

"Jesus, you're sick, you sick fucks!" he said, storming back up the stairs with more than a few backward glances.

Eli was in the kitchen, spooning ice cream into his mouth, praying for a headache to erase what he'd seen.

"And that's how the Voltaggio brothers clear the field," said Michael, sitting up, smiling. "Thanks, Bryan."

"No problem." He was disappointed it had all ended so quickly, just when he was willing to up the ante.

It was then that Michael straightened out his t-shirt, causing the tiny point of a star to appear over the top of his neckline. Bryan locked on it. Like the trigger makes the hammer fall and the pistol fire, this got him going. This was new. He could still see it, even as Michael started talking about something … something unimportant. A new tattoo. A star. On his chest. Christ, what else was there? He had to know.

 He'd always liked the forearm tattoo Mike got between college and culinary academy. It looked like a bowstring shield that archers wore. It looked like a leather glove. It looked alive and free like Michael was. But this star was new.

"You never told me you got more tattoos."

"No, and I didn't tell you I bought a mattress either. It's just a star and a tribal pattern."

"Where?"

It came out higher, not lower, like he'd hoped, almost pinched and accusatory. He felt the stick was in place again and he wanted it not to be.

 "On my chest. I'll show you later."

"What kind of tribal thing? Like, um, Celtic? Or Polynesian?"  

He was totally winging it now, grabbing at half-remembered tattoo factoids to keep Michael talking about it.

"It's Persian. Why do you care? I thought you didn't like tats."

"Yeah, they're not for me. Just curious."

He was sweaty, and his cock, for reasons he could only imagine with great difficulty, was as stiff as it ever had been. He wanted to see that tattoo. Now.

Michael's mood was on the upswing again, his near-defeat falling behind him and fading fast as his spectacular confidence returned. He was in no mood to go to bed, but he did take the opportunity to stand up and stretch loudly as Eli scurried from the kitchen to the stairs. He took a step toward Eli and Eli positively recoiled.

Bryan was immobilized by a lingering (and he was sure, visible) hard-on; he remained on the couch. He loved this rebounding ability his brother had. Bryan was older, more stable, no big ups or downs. He was the mature one.

 "Let's try the hot tub. C'mon, Bryan. You can show me your tats. HA!"
 
Bryan was a complete virgin, at least to ink, so this was one battle Michael stood a chance of winning. 80-90% of the other battles went to Bryan, from becoming chef de cuisine first to owning a restaurant first.

I need to see that tattoo. Not just the tip of one star.

Michael slid open the back patio door, and the hot dryness of the Vegas night all smog and sagebrush and dirty dollar bills and neon electricity filled the room.   

"Perfect night. Get your ass out here Bryan. We have a strategy to plan. A way to clear the field of these idiots."

Bryan discreetly slid his cock up and under the waistband of his pants, not sure what else he could do except to think of Mike and Eli going at it. Oh, jeez, that did it. Problem solved. His cock, not quite giving up yet, slipped loose, but he let it. It was dark enough to hide.

Michael was on the other side of the Jacuzzi, turning on the bubbles. And the lights. He stood up and dropped his pants.

Boxers, as always. thought Bryan. It showed a lack of restraint and discipline.

Down his brother's right calf ran a geometric design interwoven with a leopard. That one Bryan knew too. He could rationally compare it and say he liked the forearm tat better.

Michael had his arms over the back of his head, pulling his t-shirt off, and then he stopped.   "Get in, loser."

It was ballsy, oblivious to the day's events, and boyishly aggressive. Par for the course for Michael.

"Yeah, okay. I'm getting in." Bryan muttered.

He turned halfway round, just in case his cock was visible, but wasn't going to miss the shirt coming off. Michael stood there, arms folded, thighs flexing as he rolled up on the balls of his feet and then back on his heels, in mock impatience.

Bryan dropped his pants, then looked around. No windows overlooked the Jacuzzi, no one was downstairs. Christ, I am a little uptight.

Briefs, noted Michael. Tighty-whitey, ball-crushing, can't let it fly free ever brother o' mine.

Michael was shaking his head.

And then he wasn't. And he wasn't rocking back and forth either. He was staring at Bryan's half-hard-on, plain as the moonlit night and, from Michael's position, dramatically uplit by the Jacuzzi.   I guess we're both horny as hell after weeks of being stuck here. … I wonder who's hornier?

"Eyes up here, Mikey."

The nickname grated. But he was staring and that was impolite.

"Michael?"

"Yeah, Bri, I can see it."

"Fuck you. It'll go away in a minute. It's just…"

"Yeah I know."

Michael reached back over his head again to pull off his t-shirt, slowly. Inch by inch. He went slower than he thought possible, for maximum effect, but Bryan didn't speak. He didn't punch him for being an immature dick. He didn't tell him to knock it off, for once, and that was surprising.

Bryan was transfixed, inch after inch of jet black curlicues revealing a pattern that wrapped around Michael's narrow waist, up across his stomach and over his right nipple. The star was on his breastbone, just at the top there.

Michael's arms were now over his head, tangled up in the shirt, the dark blonde hair of his pits lit an odd succession of green, then pink, then blue by the tacky LED lights in the hot tub, which sat bubbling between them.

Bryan's hand was on his cock, embarrassingly, but so good, so warm and smooth, as Michael struggled inside the t-shirt stretched tight across his face, apparently oblivious to his older brother jacking off.

Through the thin mesh, though, Michael could see things very clearly; he just couldn't quite believe it. It unsettled him to see his brother staring at him – right at the tattoos on his chest, he could tell. He had played up sex twice now and both times he'd gotten the same reaction from Bryan – a stare full of controlled hunger. But this, this was something very different. He finally got the shirt off his head, and stood there, hands in front, cuffed by the t-shirt. He was looking from Bryan's face down to his cock and back up. And back down.

"You wanna jack off?" he asked, not quite sure if he should grin.

It sounded like high school, like senior year, when Michael, two years younger, had walked in on Bryan in the shower, fist pumping like a piston, feet braced against the sides of the shower stall.

"You're doing it all wrong," he'd said, casually. Bryan flipped out, shoved him hard against the sink and told him to get the hell out.

"Fine, but I know a better way to do it." Michael planted a seed. And waited.

Bryan was nothing if not curious. He was also sure of his straightness, confident that he could beat Michael into the carpet, and generally very risk-averse. That meant, to his mind, that if he came to Michael for advice on this, he wouldn't become gay, he'd shove his brother's head into the toilet if he tried anything funny, and it would be when their parents weren't at home. But it killed him that Michael would know something he didn't know, and then to come crowing about how he knew a better way? That was too much.

So Michael showed him, one summer night when the folks were out at the county fair. It turned out to be fairly simple, and Bryan had heard of it already, or so he said. At least he'd heard of rubbing that spot right in front of his asshole. He hadn't tried squeezing the head tightly after he started coming. It worked, spectacularly, and they spent the rest of the evening trying to clean the stains off the headboard of Michael's bed.

And now, here was Michael, a dark and exotic design rippling across him, something Bryan had never allowed on himself. And here he was, jacking off in front of his brother.   

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it." he said.

Michael dropped his boxers and up swung his cock, neither long nor fat but entirely in proportion, with some truly low-hanging balls below it, and the same dark blonde hair around it, a shade darker than his pits. He knew Bryan had him beat in one thing, and that hadn't changed since they measured their cocks side by side in ninth grade after looking at their dad's porn collection.

He sat down on the edge of the hot tub, long legs dangling into the hot bubbling water, and leaned back on one arm. Bryan sat next to him. Close. Brother-close, when you know the other person inside out and even odd little moments don't freak you out. He stared at his brother's tattoos – the first one on Michael's shoulder, from just after high school, the new ones he'd just been introduced to, and the forearm wrap, moving up and down as Michael stroked himself faster.  

Bryan was ahead of his brother here too, not interested in sex or romance or incest or anything but the orgasm. As soon as possible. He'd held out for nearly three weeks since that morning in the shower. His long, straight cock was slick in his hand now, head swelling larger and darker. It was silent, except for the burbling jacuzzi and the slap of their wet hands, and some fast breathing, but Bryan's ears were ringing and then he was shooting a thick wad up across his chest, one shot going clear over his shoulder. All the while he was stifling his ecstasy, keeping it quiet. He beat Michael by a few seconds.

Michael came just after him, letting out a yell that made Bryan flinch even through his heavy breathing.

"Shut the fuck up!" he whispered loudly, spraying out the last of his load onto his stomach.

Michael came all over his chest in thin streams so different from Bryan's thick cum, grunting and huffing as the air forced its way out of his throat, still unthinkably loud in Bryan's ears. Little rivulets were running across his fist, down along the tattoo on his arm. He licked them off, enjoyed seeing how much his brother disliked that.

"It's just me. I'm not gonna catch anything. Besides, it's a protein."  

"Oh you are so immature. Don't even talk about food now."  

Bryan stood up, legs dripping water, cock standing straight away from his body. He wished he'd brought a towel out with him.

"Get that thing out of my face, dude," said Michael, dodging back as Bryan turned.

"Fuck you."

"I think you'd like that. Do you good."

And that's what got Michael shoved into the Jacuzzi.

Causes - please add more of your own links in the comments section! <3

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:25:44 GMT

http://www.hopenhagen.org/

http://www.350.org/

http://adogsliferescue.org/

Want MORE PROMOTION for SPN? Sign the petition!

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 21:01:07 GMT

http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/spnpromo/

SPN 5x05 Massive Show-Love <3 my ballsy, fun-loving, fan-friendly, ever-original show!

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 05:53:50 GMT

spoilers below the cut, but I will say...

I was dancing around my living room in the closing scene even before "Superstition" started and i just kept going because

WELL BECAUSE THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN.

SO much to love!

Sam lays it out for Dean: "You've gotta let me grow up."

Dean's still an asshole. Gotta love that. He craps all over Gandhi and fruitarians, but hey, he does "get beat down by Paris Hilton."

She was perfect. I love my show. My ballsy, fun-loving, fan-friendly, awesome-soundtrack, male-bonding, ever-original show.

"I've never even seen 'House of Wax'." (Sam/Jared looks crestfallen) XD XD XD XD XD

And then the make-up moment spills its riches all over me in ways I never could have imagined possible -
Dean GETS it, FINALLY. And Sam gets to drive! HA! Oh boys, try a little physical contact; this subtext is getting awfully heavy on the symbols.

WINCHESTER BROTHERS ARE GO!

and that PREVIEW, holy crap - Japanese Game Shows, Laugh Tracks, Ancient Dean, Stabby Castiel, Sam doing Horatio Caine WTF SHOW?

Amazing and beautiful Dean/Dean picspam, from 5x04, the end.

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 07:01:20 GMT

Truly beautiful montages and pics from "The End", featuring Dean and Future!Dean alone or together. JUST STUNNING. Go look!

http://community.livejournal.com/midnight_road/4130.html

Reposting Hilarious Ep Parody

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 17:13:19 GMT

Facebook fun with Supernatural's "The End' (5x04 spoilers)

enjoy!

Gay Marriage in Maine, USA. Time/Money are of the essence.

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 07:10:36 GMT

This post has been hanging around my head for a while now, never quite took shape, but now it needs to. Gay marriage was voted in by the people of Maine. Not by courts, not by governors or legislatures, by the people. In the way of the world today, it's under attack by lying zealots of many stripes. A defeat here would be a real blow to marriage equality. (And we've got housing, work, and military equality to tackle as well.) I'd like to ask you to send money, send a letter/email, or at least publicize the upcoming vote on "QUESTION 1". Here's the story:

http://www.protectmaineequality.org/clip.cfm?id=436
The main website of Protect Maine Equality

http://gretachristina.typepad.com/greta_christinas_weblog/2009/08/same-sex-marriage-maine.html
A spectacular blog about the issue and why you should care.

SIX GREAT VIDEOS

And in case you wonder why it has to be marriage equality and why it has to happen now, take your blood pressure medicine and read about this story:

Hospital Forces Lesbian to Die Alone; Judge Gives Stamp of Approval

Lest the battle lines and magnitude be not clearly drawn

Here's where we stand, nationally.

http://www.thetaskforce.org/downloads/reports/issue_maps/samesex_relationships_7_09.pdf

Vote Now in Google's 10^100 Project!

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 01:59:07 GMT

Project 10¹⁰⁰

Why this project?

Never in history have so many people had so much information, so many tools at their disposal, so many ways of making good ideas come to life. Yet at the same time, so many people, of all walks of life, could use so much help, in both little ways and big.

In the midst of this, new studies are reinforcing the simple wisdom that beyond a certain very basic level of material wealth, the only thing that increases individual happiness over time is helping other people.

In other words, helping helps everybody, helper and helped alike.

The question is: what would help? And help most?

At Google, we don't believe we have the answers, but we do believe the answers are out there. Maybe in a lab, or a company, or a university -- but maybe not.

Maybe the answer that helps somebody is in your head, in something you've observed, some notion that you've been fiddling with, some small connection you've noticed, some old thing you have seen with new eyes.

We've narrowed 154,000 submissions down to 16 top ideas. Which ones should we make real? Cast your vote, and help us change the world.

And may those who help the most win.

http://www.project10tothe100.com/vote.html

If you wish, comment back with your choice, or your own idea, or any other comments about this contest.

Lovely Listing!

Mon, 28 Sep 2009 01:41:04 GMT

How I Wasted My Weekend, by write_light

http://lovelylisting.com/ Wait til you get to the spinning portal to another dimension!

Thoughts on 5x03 and Dean (Spoilery, non-wanky)

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 19:26:59 GMT

I think some people are mistaking Dean for quite a cad, of all things, but it's a perfectly understandable reaction, and yet for some reason, I'm not seeing all the drama. For as long as it lasts, I'm going to enjoy my zen-like calm about this. ;)

Here's my take on it. Dean was absolutely correct in what he said.

1) He's free of Sam - in other words, he's free of responsibility, as he said, for the first time in ... ever. With that (and without a lot of time and the depth that Dean may or may not have in his emotional processing) freedom = fun. We've all felt that elation of having a burden lifted, a responsibility ended, and I'm not saying SAM is a burden, but Dean's relation to him was, for Dean. It was a lifetime of "Take your brother outside, Dean" from age 4 onward. What I saw last night (and it hurt to hear him saying it, yes) was a man who's found that he can breathe again. Give the writers (and Dean) some time to get the arc out.

2) More importantly, consider their lives. "More fun than I ever had with Sam"- yeah, how could he say that? Well, he could say that because he's not talking to Cas about how much he loves and misses Sam. He avoided that conversation at least twice in the ep. What he was giving voice to was the unremitting Hell that their lives have been since Stanford. A few hot chicks, a few spoons in the mouth and glued beer bottles, a mutual killing of Ruby - that doesn't make up for year after year of death, death, death. This show is brutal to watch because their lives have been brutal. They're twisted, messed up guys, and even if we love them and see their love for each other, it doesn't change the fact that they haven't had a good life.

What I heard Dean saying last night was "I'm free" and "My life has sucked". NONE of that is because of Sam, it's just that Dean chose to protect his brother and that limited his other choices; worse, their lives are at the center of a very dark downward spiral involving much more powerful forces, and while they've made it through together so far, with love and a few light moments, no matter how close, loving, supportive, devoted, etc. they have been to each other, it's been hell all around them. What they HAVE in each other is great, but their lives sure haven't been.

XD!!!!!! HAHAHAHAAHA wipes eyes AHAHAHAAHAHA :D / D:

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 06:34:58 GMT

http://washingtonindependent.com/60172/sen-tom-coburns-r-okla-chief-of-staff-all-pornography-is-homosexual-pornography

Yeah, that got your attention, right? Here's the wisdom of a complete asshat from Oklahoma (and you'd better click if you value your immortal soul):

One of the final events of the Values Voter Summit was a Saturday breakout session on “the new masculinity,” a wide-ranging topic that one speaker used to explain how any and all pornography could lead young people into homosexual lifestyles. That speaker was Sen. Tom Coburn’s (R-Okla.) chief of staff Michael Schwartz, a longtime conservative activist who has worked for the senator since 2005.

“Pornography is a blight,” Schwartz told an audience in a crowded room of the Omni Shoreham hotel. “It is a disaster. It is one of those silent diseases in our society that we haven’t been able to overcome very well. Now, I may be getting politically incorrect here. And it’s been a few years, but not that many, since I was closely associated with pre-adolescent boys, boys around 10 years of age. [WTF!?!?] But it is my observation that boys of that age have less tolerance for homosexuality than just about any other class of people. They speak badly about homosexuality. And that’s because they don’t want to be that way. They don’t want to fall into it.”

Schwartz told the crowd about Jim Johnson, a friend of his who turned an old hotel into a hospice for gay men dying of AIDS. “One of the things he said to me,” said Schwartz, “that I think is an astonishingly insightful remark… he said ‘All pornography is homosexual pornography, because all pornography turns your sexual drive inwards.”
There were murmurs and gasps from the crowd. “Now, think about that,” said Schwartz. “And if you tell an 11-year-old boy about that, do you think he’s going to want to get a copy of Playboy? I’m pretty sure he’ll lose interest. That’s the last thing he wants! You know, that’s a good comment, it’s a good point, and it’s a good thing to teach young people.”

And now you know, thanks to an ignorant, homophobic old white guy, that ALL pornography is gay. Oh, and he's not even THINKING about lesbians looking at lesbian porn. What's that? Does not compute. If you want to check out his theory of Sexual Inversion, I can recommend a few texts from 1897.

Don't miss the video in the link above.

My garden, kicking ass.

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 02:43:07 GMT

As the icon says, it's a pretty awesome garden. Some of you at the wedding can attest to that. I've been wanting to do all sorts of grandiose things like take pictures of everything every week XD yeah right! So here is the first and hopefully not the last of selected things in my garden. Under the cut, you can click for larger versions.

All of these were taken this morning as I made myself even later for work all for your benefit, dear readers.

This glorious, glowing thing is Hibiscus schizopetalus, an aptly named species of the hibiscus clan that has deeply split (schizoid) petals. They recurve, making the anther even more noticeable. Unlike the usual hibiscus, the anther swings loosely back and forth. Each last exactly one day (you can see another bud developing behind this one. It's peaking, so we may get 3-4 flowers on one day. It doesn't like our winters, so we grow it on the back patio in a pot and take it inside each winter, where it languishes, sadly, even with water, food and a halogen grow-light. Of course, when it does THIS for two months every fall, it's worth every bit of care. Is it not beautiful?

This little fellow (? - I'm guessing that because it's not swollen as most of the pregnant females you find are) was on the screen door, then hopped onto the side table of our grill. A pale brown color is great camouflage in the dying grasses of late summer California. This is a praying mantis (and not as crisp a photo as I'd have liked), but he was jaunty, and clearly posing. I almost got a vid of him washing his face and graspers, but the camera would not focus. If you have a garden, you need to buy some egg cases and get these mantids established in your yard. They're particularly cute when they first come out at less than an inch long. He's full size, at about 4 inches. Isn't he adorable?

A real success - Clitoria ternata, double form, blue. We first saw this in Thailand, on Ko Kret, as we wandered the island. It was lush and viny and SO SO BLUE. As you can see, it's bluer than a late summer blue sky. It simply glows, even in shadow, with a blue unlike anything I've ever grown. We ordered seeds and tried it, and it worked! It's not lush at all, but this is not a tropical jungle either; the flowers, fortunately, are as good as we saw in Thailand. I stare at these every morning and evening. BLUUUUUUE.

More coming soon - the chile peppers are ripening, and the pears, grapes, jujubes, and so on and so on... :D

*garden makes me happy*