Since you're gone my empty arms have nothing left to hold

fic, Lost: The Best Laid Schemes Of Mice And Men Often Go Awry (Sawyer), PG13

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 16:53:02 GMT

Okay, I'm caught up with luau gifting (not reading, sadly), so I swear this is the last post of the kind you get for today. Sorry for spamming. Bless my day for being early..

Title: The Best Laid Schemes Of Mice And Men Often Go Awry
Rating: PG13 to be sure?
Characters: Sawyer, implied Sawyer/Juliet for the canon I needed
Words: 500 (or, me trying to do the multiple drabbles thing)
Spoilers: er, heavy for the S5 finale. And sort of for Of Mice And Men.
Summary: There's the thing with Jim LaFleur: Sawyer knows that it's just a fake name for his x-hundredth fake identity. The difference is that all of Sawyer's previous identities' purpose was destroying someone else's white picket fence, while this one could be the key for his own metaphorical one.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine and if Of Mice And Men was mine I'd be John Steinbeck and I'd have won a Nobel prize for literature. And for how much I wish it was the case, it isn't. ;)
A/N: (last late) fic for the gracious Queen elise_509 at lostsquee who wished for reasons to remind her of some Sawyer love. Er. This ended up being a mix between me explaining (sort of) S5 Sawyer (because I kinda didn't get him either) and between me loving way too much the bare fact that he likes Steinbeck. I just hope it makes some sense and that you like it! ♥ Also because I kinda haven't written from his POV in.. er, ages. Title stolen from the poem from which Steinbeck stole his title.

The only school essay that earned James Ford an A plus, in ninth grade, consisted in his first impressions upon reading Of Mice And Men.

In a nutshell, it said that every character in there dreamed of getting their version of the white picket fence, that the end stated without a doubt that only idiots (plain or metaphoric) never give up on it and that George was the most admirable character of them all because he was the only one who understood it fully and who embraced its futility.

Point is, one good grade doesn't stop you from dropping out.

--

Of Mice And Men remains Sawyer's favorite book; he reads it once each year, mostly because it's a perfect reminder of everything he has to remember. The only year he skips it, it's the one following the whole Cassidy fiasco; he re-reads it in prison and there it is, all on paper.

After all, that was the closest to the metaphorical white picket fence he ever got and see where he ended. Indeed, it's only for idiots, and wasn't he one. Whatever. He had thought he had understood it from before he changed his name. Looks like he was wrong.

--

There's the thing with Jim LaFleur: Sawyer knows that it's just a fake name for his x-hundredth fake identity. The difference is that all of Sawyer's previous identities' purpose was destroying someone else's white picket fence, while this one could be the key for his own metaphorical one.

It's not that he rationally doesn't realize that it just isn't him and that white picket fences are for idiots. It's that for the first time since he-can't-remember-when he wonders how would it feel to actually have it. The voice in his head saying con doesn't stop him from taking his chance.

--

Things with Juliet just happen. He doesn't search for it, she doesn't either; it's that too many people had left that island already and anyway, what good would it do to get away when in the real world they were barely out of second grade anyway?

Also, it's not like anyone is coming for them anytime soon.

Sometimes he remembers that line Ben quoted at him that day. A guy gets too lonely, and he gets sick. Maybe it's just as simple as that.

That little place you always wanted, George?

He just doesn't think about the way it ended.

--

It falls completely apart when Juliet throws at him that nonsense about Kate.

That's when the small voice saying con starts screaming again. It doesn't matter; what it matters it's that in his head there's a white picket fence stained in red and that it's all over. She's gone, everything is gone, reality tastes as bitter as the blood in his mouth since his fight with Jack and not a bit as sweet as their fine lie did.

George embraces how futile that idiotic dream was, he had written once. The second before everything turns white, he finally does, too.

End.

fic, Lost: Are We Going To The Same Place? If So, Can I Come? (Jack, Sawyer), PG

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 13:53:13 GMT

*is catching up with luau stuff*

Title: Are We Going To The Same Place? If So, Can I Come?
Rating: PG
Characters: Jack, Sawyer
Words: 1463
Spoilers:for the S5 finale. (Also in the summary, so I wouldn't read that if you didn't see said episode.)
Summary: Jack takes another sip and he's unable to take his eyes off Sawyer. Or James. Or Jim. Fuck knows how should he call him, especially since standing to reason Jack has never met a Jim LaFleur. Even if he remembers meeting him thirthy-something years ago.
Disclaimer: nothing here is mine if you were wondering.
A/N: (late) fic for Queen siluria at lostsquee who requested bad weather. Er, well, I have no excuse for this except that I always wanted to write Nirvana!fan!Jack goes to Seattle. Title stolen from a Pearl Jam song since we're talking grunge. I think I did my research right, but since I dunno if some stuff here would require trips to Wikipedia, Sub-Pop = Nirvana's first record label, Crocodile Cafe = venue where I think everyone who can be labeled as grunge has played sometime between late eighties and mid nineties. Er, okay, I think I'm done blathering.

Jack is completely and utterly drenched as he runs into the first Starbucks he sees and closes the door behind him; water pours down in a small pool at his feet, falling from his coat and damn, maybe he shouldn’t have gone to Seattle in autumn of all seasons. He knew that there was going to be rain and a lot of it, but... well, it wasn’t something he was going to postpone. Even if he shouldn’t have had any reason to, not when Oceanic Flight 815 hadn’t crashed.

The problem is, or maybe isn't, that everyone remembered everything. He doesn’t know if Daniel had known that. Jack never tried to search for him though; maybe some things are better left alone, or so was his opinion anyway.

He shrugs and coughs, already foreshadowing the cold he’s going to catch; not that he minds. For now, it was totally worth it. He moves from the entrance along with three or four other people, everyone dripping water all over the floor as he does; he hears thunder outside and rains falls down harder on the shop’s windows. Jack goes straight to the counter and asks for whatever they have which has the less sugar in it, takes his coffee, the heat from the cup pleasurably heating his cold skin, then heads for the nearest free spot. He takes the coat off, realizing that the upper part of his shirt is wet, too. He just hopes his hair starts to dry soon, which should be actually not that much of a feat considering the heat in the shop. Talk about temperature difference, he thinks as he takes a sip. His eyes are closed when he hears someone sitting in front of him; he doesn’t mind, the place was half-full anyway and...

“Well, of all the places in the world I’d have never thought I’d find you here.”

Jack’s eyes snap open; for a second he wonders if he has mistaken the voice, but... not really. Sawyer is sitting in front of him, some disgusting frappuccino thing in the cup he’s holding, his hair falling all over his face, as wet as Jack’s (actually, even more since it’s longer than Jack remembered when he saw him in LAX lest). His jacket is drenched, too, as Sawyer pulls it out and folds it over his chair.

“I could say the same thing,” he answers. Jack takes another sip and he's unable to take his eyes off Sawyer. Or James. Or Jim. Fuck knows how should he call him, especially since standing to reason Jack has never met a Jim LaFleur. Even if he remembers meeting him thirty-something years ago.

“Well, I was gettin’ sick of sun, beaches and all that jazz. Y’know. Change of scenery.”

“So you live here?”

“More or less. For now. Maybe. And you still haven’t answered.”

“You never asked anything.”

“Doc, don’t be a smartass here. Ain’t your thing either. I said this ain’t the place I’d have figured to find you in.”

“It’s... complicated.”

“Why, is it because of something that never happened?” Sawyer’s voice darkens a bit, and Jack takes a long breath. His left hand trembles under the table.

“Yeah. I suppose someone told you about what... what I was up to in the last year before we... didn’t come back, right?”

“Yeah, and ‘twasn’t anything fun. And what does it have to do with Seattle?”

“I wanted to visit Sub-Pop.”

Sawyer stops drinking from his frappuccino and stares at Jack like he’s gone completely batshit crazy. Which, Jack figures, maybe isn’t that far out.

“Sub-Pop. You. What, you became a Nirvana fanboy?”

Jack half smiles and Sawyer honest-to-God rolls his eyes. Jack is kind of surprised here; considering how they left each other last time and how they didn’t leave each other on the island before the bomb went off, it’s strange that Sawyer is still here at all.

“I wouldn’t joke about that.”

“Shit, Jack, it’s so fucking obvious. I mean, dammit, Nirvana? You ain’t much original, y’know that?”

“What can I say, I started late. And anyway, I just... back then, I just... wanted to go here. Never did. And then... well, I know it never really happened, but still. What’s so fun?”

“Nothin’. It’s just... fuck, I’d have expected Charlie to do this crap, not you.”

“Who tells you that Charlie hasn’t done it already?”

“Whatever. Point taken. So, you liked that?”

“Hell, yes. Why, what’s so fun again?”

Sawyer is half-smiling over the frappuccino, the wet hair still plastered all over his forehead, even if it’s starting to dry.

“You even bought yourself a flannel shirt. Well, well, ain’t you the one full of surprises?”

“That was because it’s cold.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. So, what’s your next stop on your grunge tour?”

“Uh. For the next four hours, probably checking out some shops. For this evening...”

Jack checks into the inner pocket of his coat, where thankfully his wallet stayed dry. He opens it and carefully places a ticket over the table, wondering about Sawyer’s reaction.

“You bought tickets for fucking Mudhoney at fucking Crocodile Cafe.”

“It’ll close in 2007. I read that some two weeks before, you know, going back. And I thought, crap, now I’ll never get to go there, and now that I can, I will.”

“Mudhoney. Jesus Christ. Mudhoney.”

“What do you have against Mudhoney?”

“They’re noise. Though I guess that ain’t really the point.”

“It isn’t,” Jack answers earnestly as he drinks the last of his coffee.

“What are you up to? With the exception of pullin’ grunge stunts,” Sawyer asks then, his voice suddenly a lot more serious.

“Not much. I... I got in contact with Penny Widmore the day after we landed. You know.”

“Yeah. Good point. Y’know if...”

“No. I didn’t ask to call and maybe they’re hiding. If she did that.”

“And?”

“I’ve been checking Miami newspapers.”

“... me too.”

There’s silence for a while as Sawyer finishes his coffee, hair half dry and half wet, something glinting in blue eyes whenever they meet Jack’s for a couple of seconds; Jack doesn’t say that checking Miami newspapers didn’t bring any news and Sawyer doesn’t either. It hangs between them for the length of time the silence lasts, even if it strangely isn’t as uncomfortable as it should be by all rights.

“You hope she’s gonna turn up sometime?”

“Well, we didn’t crash, I never was there, I never operated on Ben. If he does die... I just have this idea that it might be too late. Or too early anyway. But nothing stops me from checking, right?”

“Same here. Checking won’t hurt, huh?”

Jack shakes his head and puts the ticket back in place. He really should shut up, except that he can’t. When did he become the talkative one?

“Hey. I mean. Last time we saw each other... it wasn’t... you know. I mean, I get it if you’re...”

“Doc. There ain’t no point. I fucked up, you fucked up, I dunno if the fact that it worked is a fuck up or not, but if there’s one thing I learned is that holding a grudge for somethin’ that didn’t even happen is nonsense.”

Jack nods and looks out of the window; the rain isn’t showing any sign of stopping.

“You know, if you live here, I’d have thought you would at least bring an umbrella with you.”

“Yeah, well, not my style.”

“Right. I figure it’s not. Well, it’s... it’s been good to see you.”

Sawyer raises an eyebrow.

“Really,” Jack adds, suddenly feeling like this is the most intimate conversation he has ever had in his life, and when the corner of Sawyer’s mouth raises slightly he feels just relieved. It’d be nice if he knew exactly why, but he won’t overthink that.

“Well. Good to know. You goin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. I have, uh, a list.”

“Of record shops?”

“... yeah.”

“Christ, you really are full of surprises. When you said that gig is?”

Jack checks the hour, then shrugs.

“In four hours or so. Why, do you...”

“Just shut the fuck up, Doc. It’s depressing enough that you’d go there twenty years too late at least, but at least if I go with you it won’t be as fucking pathetic.”

Jack shakes his head and nods, unable to avoid the small smile stretching over his lips on its own; he steps back into the pouring rain leaving the door open and Sawyer reaches his side out on the streetwalk.

“So, at least you know where you need to go now?”

“I checked a map at my hotel.”

“Of fucking course,” Sawyer mutters before following him down the road as it starts raining harder. Jack, almost surprisingly but maybe not, doesn’t really mind.

End.

fic, Lost: I Never Kissed A Man (Kevin/Sawyer), PG13, for gottalovev

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 14:03:45 GMT

Title: I Never Kissed A Man
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Kevin/Sawyer
Words: 1786
Summary: four times Kevin and Sawyer somehow meet, and one when they definitely go further than that.
Spoilers: er, vary vague for the season finale, but definitely spoilers.
Disclaimer: nope, Lost isn't mine. NEWS!
A/N: for the lovely Queen gottalovev at lostsquee who asked for first times. Er. Well. This has at least three first times in it. And it features my Oceanic Six Talk Shows of doom. And it's the first time I try the pairing so er, whatever, I really hope you like it! ♥ using for au_abc, detectives.

1

When Kevin Callis meets James Sawyer Ford for the first time, it lasts barely more than a minute.

It happens sometime in ’99, when Kevin works at the Federal Correctional Institution in Tahallassee. He’s in the security service and really, his only duty is escorting inmates arriving from outside from the van into the prison; the job is easy, his responsibility lasts the two minutes it takes going from point A (the van) to point B (the gate). Kevin works there for about six months and, of all the inmates he escorted, he remembers only one face. Not because the guy had been basically attached to his hip for one-hundredy and twenty seconds, every inmate he escorted was basically attached to his hip for that length of time. He can’t really say precisely why. But he remembers piercing blue eyes meeting his for a couple of seconds, a smirk directed at him (and a busted lower lip), long-ish blond hair, a seein’ you, officer, murmured softly before Kevin handed the guy to his colleague at the main gate. He doesn’t ask the name and gets transfered to a regular station two months later.

He doesn’t know it isn’t the last he sees of him.

2

The second time Kevin sees James Sawyer Ford, is when he learns the name and when he really has to say that the world is indeed a small place.

The headline of his newspaper reads Survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 FOUND!. Kevin’s first reaction, after opening it, is going straight to his bathroom and throw up what he had eaten of his breakfast. He goes back to the kitchen hoping that it was some kind of hallucination, but it isn’t. Monica, or better, Kate Austen, looks at him from a group picture, holding a blond baby in her arms. Then Kevin finds himself staring at an insane number of smaller pictures taking up a whole four pages of the newspaper; all the deceased, along with name and date of birth. He finds it sick, sincerely, and he’s about to just close it and throw it away when his eyes fall on a face, just because it’s a mugshot. Long-ish rumpled hair, smirk, that same stare; it’s in black and white, but Kevin recognizes the guy from Federal Correctional just fine. The name reads James Sawyer Ford. Kevin closes the Miami Herald and throws it in the recycle bin labeled paper.

3

The third time their paths somehow cross, Kevin is sitting on his sofa in the living room of the house he never could bring himself to move out from; he’s watching a talk show, maybe a month or so after the Oceanic Six were rescued. He’s not even following, but he just feels like he needs to turn his brain off. Which wasn’t this great idea, since they are trying to interview the families of the deceased, and Kevin really, really has a problem with that kind of journalists (he knows what it means to deal with said families, thank you).

There’s a troupe in Albuquerque following this woman, who speeds away from them holding a seven-year old girl’s hand. They ask her about Mr. Ford, if he ever met his daughter, if they were in contact, whether she knows why he was on that plane. Someone in the studio beeps out the woman’s swearing before she picks the girl up, lifts a finger at the camera and speeds away. The host apologizes, Kevin just feels admiration. Well, maybe this Ford hadn’t been smart enough to keep her, but at least he did choose right. He can’t say the same.

4

“So, was it you?”

Kevin is sitting at the bar near his station when the words are uttered in his ear, the voice soft and the accent familiar. He turns and blinks twice; well, unless ghosts exist and like Jack Daniels, here Mr. James Sawyer Ford is, blond bangs falling over his eyes, smirk way less pronounced than the way he remembered it from... eight years ago or so.

“What do you mean?”

“Anyone would’ve asked who are you first.”

“Even if I hadn’t watched the news three years ago, I’d still know you were in Federal Correctional in Tahallassee some time ago, Mr. Ford. So, what do you mean?”

Sawyer looks genuinely shocked for a second, then shakes his head and takes a sip from the glass.

“Were you married to a Monica who really was a Kate?”

“How do you know? And what’s she...”

“We had a thing. Didn’t work out.”

“Shouldn’t you be dead?”

“Well, they sold you all some lies back then, dunno how many. But most surely I ain’t dead,” he whispers. “Also, I know how to find someone when I want to.”

He stands up and gets out of the bar; Kevin remains still.

5

Point is, Sawyer might know how to find people, but Kevin is a fucking cop and it’s his job. Which is how he finds himself in front of a door of what he supposes has to be a small-ish apartment in some cheap district; he knows he really shouldn’t do this and that it might be just because of Monica, or Kate, or whatever, but he also knows it isn’t all about that either and then he just knocks.

Sawyer opens the door wearing just jeans and a pair of glasses. Which is definitely not a usual combination, but Kevin has to say it’s kind of alluring. And then he kicks himself mentally because seriously, what was that?

“You.”

“Me. I’m a cop, finding people is my job.”

“Yeah, figures that Freckles would’ve found herself a cop of everyone.”

“Well, you aren’t and it looks like it didn’t work for either of us.”

“Point taken. Any particular reason you’re here?”

“How did you know about me?”

“Oh. That. Well, me ‘n her, we played I never once. She mentioned a marriage. I was curious.”

“’Course. And what are you exactly doing in Florida? One would think you wouldn’t like it much.”

“I don’t. It’s...” Sawyer stops and looks at him in the eye for a couple of seconds. Kevin holds the stare.

“Fuck, just get in.”

Kevin does even if he should know better and Sawyer shrugs as he takes a beer out of a fridge in the small kitchen on Kevin’s right.

“See, I said we had a thing, but they left. They came back alone, right? So, me ‘n some others ended up stayin’ and there was...”

“Another person?”

“Let’s say that. Anyway. She’s in Miami now. ‘Twould be too crazy to explain to you, but she doesn’t remember and... it’s better that way. It wasn’t true anyway. I figured I’d see her, say hello and stuff, but not really. Came to terms with it. It’s better like this anyway.”

It doesn’t sound like it is, but at least it doesn’t sound like Sawyer’s going to kill himself anytime soon, so Kevin lets it slip. “Right. I won’t ask.”

“Want a beer? And I wouldn’t answer anyway.”

Kevin nods and Sawyer hands him a bottle. “So, you done playin’ detective for now?”

Kevin knows he should say yes, drink his beer and get the hell out of here. Point is, he doesn’t exactly feel any urge to. And God knows he should know better and should just not be speaking with anyone who had a thing with Monica, but after all it looks like Sawyer is just as screwed as him. In that department, anyway.

“Wait a sec,” Sawyer says before he drinks. “I have a better idea. It might also be fun to remember old times. On second thought, drink that. Just be ready.”

--

That’s how they end with a whiskey bottle passed between them and Sawyer blathering about never having wore fuchsia (which isn’t pink anyway), and Kevin seriously feels like an idiot and he just should go but he’s pleasurably drunk and he doesn’t feel like doing anything remotely sane.

“I’ve never been married,” Sawyer slurts, and Kevin glares at him and takes a drink.

“I’ve never had children,” Kevin snaps in return, and watches with some satisfaction as Sawyer drinks.

“How did you know?”

“Talk show journalists interviewing the family of the deceased.”

“I hope as fuck that Cass didn’t...”

“Cass is the mother of your girl? She... er, let’s say cursed some, didn’t behave as a proper lady should and cursed again.”

“That’s her. Fuck. So, officer, I never kissed a man.”

Kevin doesn’t drink. Sawyer doesn’t either. They stare at each other and there’s silence for a second. Kevin should have known better than speaking first.

”Woah. You looked like someone who’d try it.”

“Well, hoss, didn’t get anyone who seemed good enough to molest. And it really wasn’t worth it, when I was in the mood for experimenting anyway.”

“Very funny.”

“And what ‘bout you, nothing happened in the locker room?”

Kevin rolls his eyes and takes his head in his hands. “I can’t believe you just said that. I was married, by the way.”

Sawyer doesn’t push and Kevin takes a drink just for the heck of it. And then, well, fuck, he has to be really drunk. More than he had thought, that for sure.

“Y’know what?”

”What?”

“If you really don’t want to die without trying...”

“You ain’t serious.”

“Yes. And I’m drunk too, but..”

Sawyer looks at him raising an eyebrow, but then just honestly-to-God-smirks and he has moved those few inches separing them on his in-need-of-replacing-sofa and hi, well, first time Kevin ever kisses a man and definitely not something he’d ever planned on doing but oh, he thinks, and then his brain shuts down as Sawyer’s tongue meets his and Sawyer’s mouth is all heat, cigarettes and JD and it tastes delicious, or Kevin would say so anyway. He moans without much dignity and brings an arm around Sawyer’s shoulder; they end up half-tangled with the cover of the sofa but Kevin can’t bring himself to give a damn, not when there’s tongue tracing his lips and then teeth lightly biting there, just a tease and nothing more than that really but enough to make shivers run along Kevin’s spine. When they part Kevin’s head spins and he can only see blue eyes if he looks up above and something tells him he isn’t getting up from here anytime soon.

“... that was quite the first time.”

“... have to agree with you. Though I’d have never thought it’d happen with a freaking cop.”

“Do I have to feel offended?”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Sawyer mouths before kissing him again, and Kevin doesn’t really have it in himself to comply.

YESSSSS.

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 09:59:16 GMT

I'm DONE.

Fine, I have one exam in September, but I'M DONE. \o/

*gets back to all the fannish stuff and all the catching up she hasn't done in the last four days* Er, okay, that was more or less it. I'M FREE, DAMMIT.

(translation: last exam done and nothing to do for two weeks or three. YES.)

We Can Be Together - Dean/Castiel '60s fanmix

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 12:34:59 GMT

Er, yeah, I'm multitasking again. And yes, during study breaks I put fanmixes together.. *cough* and I'll answer comments this evening I think. Or at least I hope.

Title: We Can Be Together
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Type: Fanmix
For: for martyred_wings at the Dean/Castiel co-op swap exchange. Yes, another of those again.
Prompt: '60's music, eg the Animals, the Kinks etc.
Notes: er. It has the Animals and the Kinks. And then it's also kinda crazy because it ended up mixing (sorta) folk, pop, rock and semi-psychedelic stuff without any sort of logic, or maybe it has some logic but it's hidden somewhere.

1. He Was A Friend Of Mine - The Byrds

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
His killing had no purpose
No reason, or rhyme (...)

He never knew my name
He never knew my name
Though I never met him
I knew him just the same
Oh, he was a friend of mine

2. Pledging My Time - Bob Dylan

Won't you come with me, baby?
I'll take you where you wanna go
And if it don't work out,
You'll be the first to know
I'm pledging my time to you,
Hopin' you'll come through, too

Well, the room is so stuffy,
I can hardly breathe
Ev'rybody's gone but me and you
And I can't be the last to leave
I'm pledging my time to you,
Hopin' you'll come through, too

3. It's All Over Now, Baby Blue - Joan Baez

Leave your stepping stones behind you, something calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, Baby Blue

4. You Don't Have To Say You Love Me - Dusty Springfield

Don't you see
That now you've gone
And i'm left here on my own
That i have to follow you
And beg you to come home?

You don't have to say you love me
Just be close at hand
You don't have to stay forever
I will understand
Believe me, believe me

5. The Happening - The Supremes

Hey life look at me, I can see the reality
Cause when you shook me, took me out of my world
I woke up, suddenly I just woke up to the happening (...)

I saw the light too late, when that fickle finger of fate
Yeah came and broke my pretty balloon
I woke up, suddenly I just woke up to the happening

So sure, I felt secure, until love took a detour
Cause when you got a tender love you don-t
Take care of, then you better beware of the happening

6. This Old Heart Of Mine (Is Weak For You) - The Isley Brothers

This old heart of mine, been broke a thousand times
Each time you break away, i think your gunna stay
Only nights that come, memory's that go bringing you back again, hurting me more and more

7. Baby, I'm Gonna Leave You - Led Zeppelin

Ohhh. I know, I know, I know I never, never,
Never, never, never gonna leave you, babe.
But I gotta go away from this place.
I've got to quit you yeah. Ohhh baby, baby,
Don't you hear it callin' me?
Woman, woman, I know, I know.
It feels good to have you back again
And I know that one day baby it's gonna
Really grow, yes it is.
We gonna go walkin' through the park every day.
Hear what I say, every day

8. Don't Bring Me Down - The Animals

Sacrifices I will make
I’m ready to give, as well as take
One thing I need is your respect
One thing I can’t take is your neglect

More than anything I need your love
Then troubles are easy to rise above

Oh, oh no
Don’t bring me down

9. To Love Somebody - Janis Joplin

Oh I know that there’s a way
‘Cause everybody came to me one time and said,
“Honey, you can do anything,
Every little thing, and I think I can
Oh, but what good, what good,
Honey, what awfully good can it ever, ever bring,
‘Cause I can’t find you with my love,
And I can’t find you babe, oh anywhere

Oh, but you don’t know,
You don’t know what it’s like,
No you don’t and you never ever, ever did
You don’t know, honey,
You don’t know what it’s like
Oh to love anybody

10. Help! - The Beatles

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?

11. Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones

The floods is threat'ning
My very life today
Gimme, get me to shelter
Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away

12. Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys

And wouldn't it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong

You know its gonna make it that much better
When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through

13. Elenore - The Turtles

You’ve got a thing about you
I just can’t live without you
I really want you Elenore near me

Your looks intoxicate me
Even though your folks hate me
There’s no one like you Elenore really

14. Love Me Two Times - The Doors

Love me one time
I could not speak
Love me one time, baby
Yeah, my knees got weak

But love me two times, girl
Last me all through the week
Love me two times
I'm goin' away

15. All Day And All Od The Night - The Kinks

Not content to be with you in the daytime
Girl I want to be with you all of the time
The only time I feel alright is by your side
Girl I want to be with you all of the time
All day and all of the night

16. We Can Be Together - Jefferson Airplane

We can be together
Ah you and me
We should be together
We are all outlaws in the eyes of America
In order to survive we steal cheat lie forge fuck hide and deal
We are obscene lawless hideous dangerous dirty violent and young
We should be together
Come on all you people standing around
Our life's too fine to let it die and
We should be together (...)

Up against the wall
Up against the wall(motherfucker)
Tear down the walls
Tear down the walls
Come on now together
Get it on together
Everybody together
We should be together

zip with covers and songs

birthday + random stuff

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 10:03:24 GMT

1. Happy birthday gemjam! ♥ I hope you get a great day and an even better year. ;) And if you want some icons or anything just ask. ;)

2. Uh, and happy Fourth of July to all you Americans out there! And since it's Independence Day, you get the random Bruce video because while I'm not American I can't resist.

3. I'm so excited for the luau at lostsquee! Which means that next month or so this place will be probably filled with Lost stuff except for a week when I probably will be scarce for RL reasons.

4. I also managed to start catching up with the load of banners I owe. Thankfully it's not too much all things considered, but I won't be able to finish anything before next week. When is the 8th?

5. Pointless entry is pointless and I really should go doing some studying along with multitasking as usual, so I guess it'll be all for now. *waves*

phew + SHAMELESS PROMOTING BECAUSE I CAN

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 21:34:44 GMT

Okay. 4/5 of my exams done. Another week and I'm free, and hopefully attending the Chris Cornell concert. And anyway, when you get there at nine in the morning and do the exam at three in the afternoon, it's akin to torture. BUT, anyway. My head will go back to functional thought tomorrow. The real reason I'm doing this post is shameless promoting of the shameless kind. This = Supernatural related, so if you're not into that, feel free to skip this. And sorry if you watch the icon comm and see it there too but hey, I need to use my resources.

So, to make things short: me and _izu_ have a crush on a certain Jimmy Novak, we think that he doesn't get enough attention and all that jazz and so we went and did the crazy thing called setting a community up ~~and I really don't have enough things on my hands already but whatever~~. So, if you're one of the Jimmy fans on my FL or at interested at all in the guy or whatever, and I know at least two of you are there, consider joining? ;) Come on, we have a very pretty layout at least! *bribes*

spn_jimmynovak spn_jimmynovak spn_jimmynovak

Okay. I did my maintainer duty part #1. Now I'll see how much I last before crashing to bed with Schopenhauer in tomorrow morning's prospects...

And random: why do we get HAIL on July 1st?

I Am A Renegade - Dean/Castiel fanmix

Mon, 29 Jun 2009 18:07:38 GMT

Well, I guess I'm the queen of multi-tasking since I put this thing together while reading a book and making a concordance. I just hope it doesn't show, lol. And er, yeah, D/C fanmixes are becoming my crack.

Title: I Am A Renegade
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Type: Fanmix
For: neierathima at the Dean/Castiel co-op swap exchange.
Prompt: A fanmix of Dean/Castiel charting their relationship over each episode. That is, have a song (maybe two) for each episode sort of summing up the tone for that ep.
Notes: well, I had two songs for each episode except one which has three because I seemingly like it too much and I make favoritism (which is also the reason there are two Bruce Springsteen songs even if I tried not to repeat people, but it happened that they fit). Also, er, the first song for episode #2 is deliberately there for crack value. Hope you like it!

1. Nobody's Fault But Mine - Jimmy Page and Robert Plant

Oh Lord, nobody's fault but mine
Tryin' to raise my soul to light
Ah have a bible in my home
Have a bible in my home
Tryin' to raise my soul to light

2. Lake Of Fire - Nirvana

Where do bad folks go when they die
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly
Go to a lake of fire and fry
Don't see them again 'till the Fourth of July

People cry and people moan
Look for a dry place to call their home
Try to find some place to rest their bones
While the angels and the devils try to make 'em their own

3.Respect - Otis Redding

But all I want you to do
Just give it, give it
Respect when I come home

Respect is what I want
Respect is what I need
Respect is what I want
Respect is what I need

4.Ask The Angels - Patti Smith

Ask the angels who they're calling,
Go ask the angels if they're calling to thee
Ask the angels while they're falling
Who that person could possibly be (...)

Across the country through the fields
You know I see it written 'cross the sky
People rising from the highway
And war war is the battle cry
And it's wild wild wild wild.

Armageddon, it's gotten
No savior jailer can take it from me
World ending, it's just beginning

5.Unhappy Girl - The Doors

Unhappy girl
Left all alone
Playing solitaire
Playing warden to your soul
You are locked in a prison of your own device

And you can't believe
What it does to me
To see you crying

6.Off He Goes - Pearl Jam

Said he'll see me on the flipside
on this trip he's taken for a ride
he's been taking too much on
there he goes with his perfectly unkept clothes
there he goes...
he's yet to come back (...)

We go way back
I wonder about his insides
its like his thoughts are too big for his size
he's been taken... where, I don't know?
off he goes with his perfectly unkept hope
and there he goes...

7.No Quarter - Led Zeppelin

Walking side by side with death
The devil mocks their every step
The snow drives back the foot that's slow
The dogs of doom are howling more
They carry news that must get through
To build a dream for me and you
They choose the path that no one goes
They hold no quarter

8.Come Pick Me Up - Ryan Adams

You know you could
I wish you would
Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Screw all my friends behind my back
With a smile on your face
And then do it again
I wish you would

I wish you'd make up my bed
So I could make up my mind
Try it for sleeping instead
Maybe you'll rest sometime
I wish I could

9.You've Got To Hide Your Love Away - Eddie Vedder

How can I even try?
I can never win
Hearing them, seeing them
In the state I'm in
How could she say to me
"Love will find a way?"
Gather round all you clowns
Let me hear you say

Hey you've got to hide your love away

10.Sympathy - Goo Goo Dolls

And I wished for things that I don't need
(All I wanted)
And what I chased won't set me free
(It's all I wanted)
And I get scared but I'm not crawlin' on my knees

Every thing's all wrong, yeah
Every thing's all wrong, yeah
Where the hell did I think I was?

And stranger than your sympathy
Take these things, so I don't feel
I'm killing myself from the inside out
And now my head's been filled with doubt

11.Hang Down Your Head - Tom Waits

Tear the promise from my heart, tear my heart today
You have found another, oh baby I must go away
So hang down your head for sorrow, hang down your head for me

12.I Wish I Were Blind - Bruce Springsteen

We struggle here but all our love's in vain
And these eyes that once filled me with your beauty
Now fill me with pain
And the light that once entered here
Is banished from me
And this darkness is all baby that my heart sees

And though the world is filled
With the grace and beauty of God's hand
Oh I wish I were blind
When I see you with your man

13.Belief - John Mayer

Belief is a beautiful armor
but makes for the heaviest sword
like punching underwater
you never can hit who you're trying for
some lead the exhibition
and some have to know they tried
it's the chemical weapon
for the war that's raging on inside
oh, everyone believes
from emptiness to everything
oh, everyone believes
and no one's going quietly

we're never gonna win the world
we're never gonna stop the war
we're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

14.Interstate Love Song - Stone Temple Pilots

Waiting on a Sunday afternoon
for what I read between the lines,
your lies.
feelin' like a hand in rusted shame
so do you laugh or does it cry?
reply?

leavin' on a southern train
only yesterday you lied,
promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by,
all of these things you said to me

15.Slither - Velvet Revolver

When you look you see right through me
Cut the rope, I fell to my knees
born and broken every single time

Always keep me under finger
That's the spot where you run to me
might see some type of pleasure in my mind (...)

Yeah, here comes the water
It comes to wash away the sins of you and I
This time you'll see
Like holy water
It only burns you faster than you'll ever dry
This time with me

16.Zero - Smashing Pumpkins

My reflection, dirty mirror
There's no connection to myself
I'm your lover, I'm your zero
I'm in the face of your dreams of glass
So save your prayers
For when we're really gonna need'em
Throw out your cares and fly
Wanna go for a ride? (...)

Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness
And cleanliness is godliness, and god is empty just like me

17.Help! - Oasis

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
My independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before

18.I Am - Bon Jovi

It seems you always wait for life to happen
And your last buck can't buy a lucky break
If all we've got is us then lifes worth living
And if you're in, you know I'm in
I'm ready and I'm willing

I Am, when you think that no-one needs you
Sees you or believes you
No ones there to understand, I Am
I'll be there to be that someone
When you think that no one, is there to hold your hand
I Am

19.Bridge Over Troubled Water - Simon & Garfunkel

I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

20.You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go- Bob Dylan

You're gonna make me wonder what I'm doin',
Stayin' far behind without you.
You're gonna make me wonder what I'm sayin',
You're gonna make me give myself a good talkin' to

I'll look for you in old Honolulu,
San Francisco, Ashtabula,
You're gonna have to leave me now, I know.
But I'll see you in the sky above,
In the tall grass, in the ones I love,
You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

21.Happiness - Alison Krauss & Union Station

Love like a lesson learned when we pass the point of no return
You can't always trust happiness
There in love's steady glow hides the power to hurt us so
You can't always trust happiness

22.Please - U2

So you never knew love... until you crossed the line of grace
And you never felt wanted... 'til you'd someone slap your face
So you never felt alive... until you'd almost wasted away

So you never knew... how low you'd stoop to make that call
And you never knew... what was on the ground until they made you crawl
So you never knew... that the heaven you keep, you stole

Your catholic blues, your convent shoes
Your stick on tattoos, now they're making the news
Your holy war, your northern star
Your sermon on the mount from the boot of your car

23.Carvel - John Frusciante

When I try I force it out
Never looking in only out
Now is the time for millions to lose
Never the same since I lost you
Running me out of town
Wishing the best around
Would only get off my back
Heaven receives you and throws you back

Sending a dummy to my God

24.For You - Bruce Springsteen

I came for you, for you, I came for you, but you did not need my urgency
I came for you, for you, I came for you, but your life was one long emergency
and your cloud line urges me, and my electric surges free (...)

I swear I was never that way even when I really cracked (...)

And your strength is devastating in the face of all these odds
Remember how I kept you waiting when it was my turn to be the god?

25.Renegade - Warren Zevon

Some prayers never reach the sky
Some wars never end
Some dreams refuse to die
Next time I would rather break than bend

I am a renegade
I've been a rebel all my days
I am a renegade
I've been a rebel all my days

zip with all the songs + art

Bon Jovi rocks always and not on occasion.

Sun, 28 Jun 2009 21:02:12 GMT

Uh, so, while I have this idea that Jon's Farsi accent has to be hideous, I'm actually really touched by this. Especially because it's up for grabs and not on sale or for charts. And apart from the (GREAT) intentions it's a really fine cover IMHO. And I can't stop listening to it. And I just need to manage to download the mp3 because it doesn't work right now, but I guess I will sooner or later. *wibbles and puts it on again*

fic, Supernatural: He Loves You (and you know you should be glad), (Jimmy, Dean/Castiel), PG13

Sun, 28 Jun 2009 20:24:34 GMT

This one, I owed, too.

Title: He Loves You (and you know you should be glad)
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Jimmy, Dean/Castiel, Chuck and Sam on the side
Words: 3625
Summary: where Jimmy can't really stand Castiel being miserable because he thinks his feelings for Dean are unrequited and takes the matter into his own hands.
Spoilers: up until 4x22.
Disclaimer: no, they aren't mine. I couldn't make them all so wonderfully miserable even if I tried.
A/N: this is for wandersfound who in a meme ages ago asked for any Dean/Castiel that passed through my head and well, this was what passed through my head. But I know she likes Jimmy and the Beatles from whom I've obviously stolen the title (and I had the idea while listening to that song) so I hope this is fine. ;) Also, this is slightly crack-ish but not exactly full crack I think. Using for sacred_20 #2, saint.

Now, Jimmy Novak might be a lot of things, but that he is a devout man is something that no one would dare questioning. And since he’s a devout man, Jimmy was never one to sin much. He never was envious of anyone (he had a job that paid fairly well, a beautiful wife and daughter and he owned his home instead of renting it; he couldn’t have asked God for more than that); he never was greedy (he has always paid his taxes up to the last cent and he regularly donated to charity); the only person he ever felt a rightful lust for was his wife; he can’t remember a time he seriously got angry; he never ate too much (well, fine, that one time he did, but fuck, he hadn’t eaten for a year) and he never postponed doing anything. And well, he never was one who ever held too much pride on himself (well, he always was proud for his daughter, but that is just the natural course of things).

Which is why, if right now Jimmy Novak thinks that if someone upstairs doesn’t make him at least a minor saint when he dies it’ll be a fucking injustice, and excuse him the very blunt phrasing, it means that this is a really, really, really serious deal.

See, it isn’t about the whole Apocalypse thing going on, nor the fact that he’s being currently possessed by a renegade angel on the run from Heaven who gets heads up from a prophet of the Lord who writes books that Jimmy wouldn’t have ever let his daughter read before she turned at least sixteen. It’s not about his body suffering in battle and technically dying at least five times, or the blood losses. It’s about Castiel fucking moping after Dean.

Or better. See, since he went and disobeyed all the way, Castiel has stopped trying to repress whatever he was repressing since he had possessed Jimmy for the second time. And Jimmy can swear that when he stopped he had let out a breath of relief, since it felt like there was some fucking time bomb ticking and ready to explode inside him. The problem is that what Castiel was repressing is longing and desire and honest-to-God-love and it floods through him and through Jimmy every single time he looks at Dean, which is fairly often these days. But the problem is that Castiel won’t act and so while longing he deludes himself into thinking that it’s hopeless and it’s not meant to be and all that jazz. And bearing an angel’s love delusions should be enough, but then there’s the other part of it. Because you see, Castiel doesn’t know a thing about figuring human body language out, but Jimmy does, thank you so much really, and from what he sees Dean is fucking (and please, notice that Jimmy is not someone who swears usually) head-over-heels for Castiel and clearly he won’t do anything about it either and that’s what is driving Jimmy fucking nuts, nuts, nuts. It’s just like the worst romance novel he could have found himself in.

Because Castiel is grateful to be near Dean at all and meanwhile he aches because he can’t be with him the way he wants and because he thinks it’d be disrespectful towards Jimmy (which seriously almost makes him want to laugh; he has fucking killed his body a number of times, does he really think that Jimmy would mind it if it was sex instead of technically dying?) and meanwhile thinks things that Jimmy is pretty sure would be found embarrassing even at Hallmark. (Jimmy used to buy Amelia Hallmark cards, so he knows what he’s talking about, thank you very much.)

Meanwhile Dean is always staring like he can’t believe Castiel is there at all and Jimmy hears every-single-thought of Castiel’s on the matter even when he’s shut out (it actually doesn’t happen much lately, except when nasty stuff is going on, and Jimmy is thankful for small favors). And if being possessed by an angel is like being tied to a comet, being chained to a lovesick angel is like being a small, insignificant asteroid in the midst of a meteor shower and Jimmy is definitely not up for it, especially when it could be fucking avoided. It’s just so obvious that those two are pining for each other, and really, Jimmy doesn’t even give a flying fuck (he has really started to swear lately) that it’d be his body having sex with Dean. Apart from the fact that maybe it’d be fucking nice for a change, he just wants those two to get over their moping and do it the fuck already; but they’re so thick that they won’t ever manage on their own. Sometimes he wonders how the hell can Sam stand them unless he finds it fun, and in that case he’s a masochist; but from what he remembers, the kid is a masochist after all. He isn’t the one with the angel living inside him anyway. Sometimes he wishes he could talk to him, maybe plan something; but Jimmy can’t do shit in his state, getting them a room included.

He can only try to talk to Castiel, but angel reasoning fails him most times. He’s only human, after all; and Castiel never wants to talk about his thing with Dean anyway, so no help on that front.

It doesn’t change that he can’t keep on going on with an angel of the Lord possessing his body when said angel is crushing on Dean like a twelve year old girl falling for someone for the first time.

--

So, Jimmy decided that he needs to do something. This, three weeks after Lucifer rises. Because that’s when Castiel starts deluding himself so much that he seriously becomes miserable and if he is miserable Jimmy is too and Jimmy is already miserable enough on his own.

Just tell him, he offers one evening out of desperation. Castiel’s laugh is bleak. Jimmy can’t help thinking that he also got an angel who is a fucking drama queen.

No.

But why not? He…

He doesn’t need another problem.

Oh, come on, you wouldn’t be. And I mean, I’m actually fine if…

No.

You do realize that it’ll just make you even more miserable?

Then so be it.

Jimmy can’t explain Castiel the whole body language factor; that’s when he realizes he’ll have to play dirty.

--

Jimmy doesn’t know what happened with the archangels because he was out at that moment; but after, he has found out that they must have done some damage because Castiel doesn’t have complete control anymore.

Jimmy thinks that Castiel isn’t aware of it; and really, it isn’t anything major. But if Jimmy is subtle and concentrates and sticks to what could pass for reflexive motions, he can move some limbs without Castiel noticing.

And so, if Cas doesn’t go to Dean, then Jimmy will bring him and while Castiel won’t ever pick a hint, Jimmy is sure that Dean will. He wasn’t born fucking yesterday, after all. Which is how plan A starts.

Jimmy is careful and doesn’t overdo anything; but when they’re in the same room or sitting near, he will bring their body nearer, or he will move so that theirs and Dean’s thighs or shoulders bump against each other. Maybe Castiel’s fingers will brush the skin on Dean’s wrist, stuff like that, and meanwhile Jimmy tries to force Castiel to fucking smile a bit once in a blue moon. And he’s subtle and careful and he does his job just fine: pity that Dean doesn’t get the hints. It’s like the moron is stuck and won’t even try to get closer to Castiel more than he thinks it’s appropriate and after a week Jimmy has to give up on plan A. Surely Dean and Castiel deserve each other, considering how freaking thick they are. Or clueless, he has to decide about that.

--

Plan B is actually pretty ingenious, or at least so he thinks. Maybe Dean just needs a small push and Jimmy, well, Jimmy isn’t a vain person at all, but he always used to take good care of his body and this might just turn helpful. Sure, he knows that it isn’t a physical thing, not really, otherwise he’d have felt some tension with Dean when Castiel was gone, but Jimmy is sure that Dean doesn’t find his body too hard on the eyes. So he convinces Castiel to get some new clothes because the coat and suit are fine but really, they have had them on for more than one year and it would just help Castiel look more human and it’d be better for hiding if he changed clothes regularly.

It doesn’t take much to convince Castiel, who admits to be clueless when it comes to picking; that’s exactly where Jimmy wanted him, and of course he will choose, he knows what’s better for that purpose.

Seeing Dean’s face when they show up dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, a casual grey t-shirt and a jeans jacket that is a size too big but that Jimmy made Castiel pick exactly for that reason makes Jimmy’s heart leap in joy; he stares so hard and so long that Jimmy is sure that he’s going to jump the both of them now, but then Dean just clears his throat and compliments Cas on the attire and it’s over there.

Plan 2B and 3B imply trying new combinations; but neither a black shirt made of fake silk which looks good enough to be true as long as you don’t touch it and not even an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt that Jimmy urged Castiel to buy after he saw it in the window of a used clothes shop is enough to snap Dean out of it.

--

Plan C materializes when Dean, one evening, says screw the demons, the world still isn’t over and they need a break, and brings them and Sam and Chuck to a drive-in to see Hellraiser of all things. Now, Sam decides that it’s a bore and he’ll just spend the second half taking a walk, and when Dean stares at Chuck, the poor prophet runs out of the car saying that he wants to take a walk too; and while Jimmy can’t help feeling sorry for the poor bastard almost as much as he feels sorry for himself, he realizes that this is the perfect occasion. Empty car, horror movie, drive in, can it get more of a cliché? He starts again with the subtle moves, not that he has to do much because Castiel is kind of upset here, and who knew angels actually got scared of horror movies, and so it isn’t that much of a stretch when his hand grips Dean’s softly during some pretty nasty scene.

The problem is that Dean just holds it back and nothing happens until it’s over.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If they didn’t catch such a gold occasion, nothing is going to work and he’ll spend his possessed existence sharing his body with a lovesick angel and if the world has to end this isn’t how he wants to die.

--

Plan D is the last resort and he knows he will have to play his cards right.

He knows it’s a long shot, but he has to try. Otherwise… otherwise. He won’t even think about it.

He just tells Castiel that he really wishes for a few hours for himself. Just to eat something and maybe take a walk. Nothing more, really, but since they’re here, he could just do it for him for a while

If I leave, they will find me.

You don’t have to leave. Just… instead of shutting me out, shut yourself out. Two hours, no more.

He feels Castiel debating, but he knows he hit a sore spot. After all he knows that Castiel wasn’t too enthusiast about ripping him from his family again.

Very well. You may have two hours.

And then he’s suddenly himself and he has to hurry. He goes to the room Dean shares with Sam and where Chuck currently is, writing something, takes Dean by the elbow saying that it’s him, he has two hours and no money and he really feels like eating three pancakes at least and he can look at prophecies later.

Dean is too shocked to object and by then Jimmy is already dragging him out of the motel and towards the diner in front of the road.

--

The slice of chocolate cake coming with whipped cream on another small plate is enough to make Jimmy’s mouth water and his empty stomach ache, but he doesn’t attack it and rather just takes a small bit. He figures he needs to savor it. Meanwhile Dean pays the bill and brings a cup of coffee to his lips; Jimmy takes a breath and looks at him as he dips the fork into his slice.

“Dean. I need to tell you something.”

“You need to tell me something?

“Yes,” Jimmy answers as he swallows his second bit. “Actually, it’s the reason why I’m here. Castiel doesn’t know. I told him I wanted two hours to myself and that was it, but I needed two hours to myself so that I could talk to you so I’d really be fucking happy if you listened to me carefully, because that’s not anything I want to say twice.”

Dean raises his eyes and stares at him; Jimmy cuts a slightly bigger slice and stares back. Then takes a break from eating.

“So, are you completely blind or what?”

“What do you…”

“I mean, how much else will it take you to figure it out that the comet I’m anchored to is in love with you?”

Dean’s mouth opens in shock and he almost spits the coffee; Jimmy lowers his fork and dips the cake into the cream, then slowly chews on it. Mm. He needs to convince Castiel to start eating, after he gets him into bed with Dean.

“He’s what?”

“In-love-with-you. And I don’t mean I love each one of God’s creatures and all that jazz, I mean serious love. Fuck, if anyone at Hallmark knew what he thinks about you they’d hire him as a consultant, and it’s seriously making me lose whatever sanity I have left. And stop looking like some lightning just struck you, it’s not like you don’t feel the same way.”

Dean chokes on the coffee.

“How did you…”

“Do you think that I can’t read body language? Fuck, the way you look at him, I don’t know why you haven’t acted upon it until now. And don’t feed me any crap about angels falling and him not loving you that way and whatever. He’s half fallen already, and I can’t take him crushing over you like my daughter crushed on Johnny Depp anymore.”

Dean opens and closes his mouth at least three times; Jimmy snorts and has another small piece, savoring each single bit.

“Anyway, I’ve been trying to make the both of you move for… hell, I don’t even want to know. First I tried to push him, then it didn’t work and I tried the clothes but you just won’t get an hint, and by the way, it was me making him grab your hand at the drive-in. And it didn’t work, too, which is why I had to come to this and I swear, if tonight you don’t go and just jump over him or us already, I will hold you responsible for all my unnecessary suffering.”

He cuts another piece then, the fork landing with a noise on the plate; Dean blinks and looks even more shocked.

“But… isn’t that your body? You actually want us to…”

“Dean. This body has died at least ten times, technically, and hurt a lot more, and lost a whole fucking lot of blood, and… whatever. Now, do you think that I’d be more okay with anything that was even remotely pleasurable or with that? Anyway, I chose this, more or less, it’s my problem. And really, try having a moping angel inside you deluding himself into thinking you wouldn’t ever want to look him in the eye if he let any of his inappropriate feelings show. Then we talk about it. I don’t give a damn if you two have sex or just kiss or do whatever other thing you want to do, just do some move on him and make him stop being miserable. It’s not like I don’t have enough of it for myself without needing him being miserable too. And now I really need another slice,” he says, noticing that in between his rant he had finished his cake. Dean orders another portion and takes his head between his hands. He hasn’t even tried to deny that he does like Castiel that way, which is just peachy for Jimmy. Really peachy. The second slice comes and he brings the fork down again.

“But… are you sure… I mean, he… he is… he can’t just…”

Jimmy rolls his eyes and thinks about the sweetness in his mouth rather than about his sudden urge to strangle Dean.

“Dean. This is the first and last time I’ll say it. He-loves-you. Okay? He has it written in fucking neon lights inside my head and if you don’t go and get him and yourself a room tonight you’ll have the loss of my sanity on your conscience. Christ. And I think I could do with a Pepsi, by the way.”

Dean shuts up and orders one and Jimmy feels thankful for small favors. At least if this goes wrong too he’ll have a full stomach for a while.

--

Castiel is back two hours later, but by then Jimmy has three slices of chocolate cake, two Pepsi cans and one coffee in his system and feels considerably more equipped to deal with… whatever has to happen.

Then Dean asks Chuck if they can switch room that night, he can stay with Sam after all for once, right?, and Jimmy rejoices. Maybe it’s the time.

Castiel tilts his head in confusion when Dean says that he’s his roommate tonight.

“Oh. Very well then. But was there a reason?”

“I figured you got tired of prophecies and I can do without Sam’s snoring for a night. Is that… alright?”

Oh, for God’s sake, Jimmy thinks, sure that Castiel is too focused on Dean to care about what he thinks. What question is that?

“Of course it is.”

“Cas, listen, there’s… uh… one thing I need to tell you. I think.”

He found out, how did it happen, it’s over, no are all the thoughts going through Castiel’s head as Dean’s expression becomes suddenly serious and Jimmy feels overwhelmed with despair and would gladly kill them both, if he only could. If only. If only.

“If… if you really have to then say it.”

And now Dean looks undecided and Jimmy is seriously becoming desperate because just no, no, not now, but then Dean stands up, gets closer, a lot closer, a lot closer, and Castiel now is just shocked and Jimmy has never felt more of an idiot in his whole life, praying that Dean could just close that fucking distance, dammit, it’s crazy that…

“I’m sorry,” Dean mouths before kissing Castiel, or them, or whatever, and Christ, it’s so disappointing of a kiss. For what Jimmy has seen of Dean Winchester he definitely knows his way around a kiss, but this is all closed lips and chaste touching and not even a bit of pushing. Fuck, Jimmy’s own first kiss had been more heated, and it had been when he was seventeen and with Amelia, which he had thought was lame until now, but he figures it really isn’t. But then he feels Castiel’s despair wavering and maybe this is working after all, maybe…

And then Dean is about to break it off and Castiel is still as a statue, completely ill-equipped to deal with this, and Jimmy won’t have it.

Just kiss him back, won’t you?

But… he… this…

If you don’t kiss him back now he will think he had it wrong and sure as… surely he hasn’t, right?

And that’s when Castiel opens his lips and kisses tentatively back with a lack of experience that should really be saddening, except that it’s enough for Dean to slam them against a wall and start kissing Castiel seriously, with tongue and hands cradling their face and all and Castiel sighs and gives in. He kisses back as best as he can, despair turning into utter and sheer joy, so much that Jimmy feels flooded with it and he’s the best he has felt since Castiel possessed him altogether. Finally, finally, finally he thinks when Castiel’s hands grip Dean’s shoulders and Dean crushes him against his chest, and then clothes are disappearing and Castiel is saying something very Hallmark and Dean is blushing furiously and kissing the hell out of him again and Jimmy would probably raise some fist in the air if he could. Well, fine, he’ll do it metaphorically.

Sure as hell, sex is definitely better than getting stabbed and thrown across a room multiple times. Also, he feels pretty fucking proud of himself for once but hey, everyone would agree that he had done a remarkable job here, considering the situation.

He just hopes that now Castiel doesn’t trade depressing Hallmark thoughts for happy Hallmark thoughts because that’s possibly even scarier, but if he does he’ll just deal with it. But he’s so giving Heaven a dear bill when it’s his turn to go, that’s for sure.

End.

birthday + meme + pm + stuff

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 17:38:20 GMT

1. Happy birthday to inthekeyofd! ♥

I hope you have the best possible day and the most awesome next year! ♥ Possibly filled with as much Frusciante as one can stand. ;) And if you want to prompt me I'll see what I can do. ;) Happy birthday again!

2. How do you deal with more than fifty mosquito bites? Because I lost the count at fifty. :/ I'm seriously thankful I don't have any mosquito related allergies *shudder*.

3. Ship meme stolen from around.

Six ships you're into right now. [ps: probably most of these are pairings I'm into on default and not necessarily now, but I also was trying to do different fandoms.]

1. Jack/Boone (Lost) [I'm always into J/B *cough*)
2. Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
3. Dean/Castiel (SPN)
4. Roland/Eddie (The Dark Tower)
5. David/Keith (Six Feet Under)
6. Maurice/Alec (Maurice)

Three ships you liked, but don't anymore. [there seriously should be an option for 'ships you liked a lot and now canon killed them but you liked them anyway' though]

7. Charlie/Claire (Lost)
8. Eddie/Susannah (The Dark Tower)
9. Sawyer/Juliet (Lost) *hides from rotten tomatoes*

Three ships you never liked.

10. Kate/Sawyer and Jack/Kate (Lost)
11. Jason/Lyla (FNL)
12. Nate/Lisa (SIx Feet Under)

Two ships you're curious about, but don't actually ship.

13. Richard/Jacob (Lost)
14. Sam/Castiel (SPN)

Why do you dislike #11 so much?
Considering that I didn't see from half S2 onwards, so I'm stopping there: because he was my favorite character and I hated her guts. I never could stand her, she made my head hurt, in S2 her conversion was making me want to headdesk and I just couldn't see them together. So I was very, very happy when they broke up. ;)

Who is someone you know that ships #14?

Uh, elise_509 does!

What would be your ideal scenario for couple #3?

Well, my secret and ~~very blaspheme~~ dream would be what Misha said at some con aka Dean, Castiel and Sam retiring in the country (this he said) and having threesome sex for the rest of eternity (this, he didn't say). This is obviously not going to happen, so well.. canon-speaking the problem is that for how much I'd love for the Apocalypse to be averted and then for Castiel to fall and stay with Dean, my overwhelming Jimmy love doesn't want the poor guy to either die or be trapped inside his own body for eternity. Probably it'd be like in some fic I read where basically Castiel fell and got another body which was identical to Jimmy's. And then he'd stick around and Sam would spend his time rolling his eyes. ;) Or if we really want to be masochist, everyone dies AND goes to Heaven. As long as they aren't as miserable as canon makes them...

Which is your favorite moment for couple #1?

THE PENS, OMG THE PENS. WHEN BOONE GOES WITH THE HANDFUL AND SAYS HE DIDN'T KNOW WHICH ONE WAS GOING TO WORK BEST and Jack is completely starstruck.

Even though that bit in Do No Harm when Boone asks Jack to let him die and Jack answers that it's their best chance is very close.

How long have you been following couple #6?

Following is completely the wrong word since it's a freaking book pairing, but since I was sixteen.

What's the story with #8? What made you stop liking them/caring?

The ending of the seventh book. Shit, I loved Susannah and I liked Eddie/Suze just fine, but when

MAJOR FAT SPOILERS FOR THE SEVENTH BOOK

he told her that he was going to wait for her in the afterlife as he was freaking dying and then not only she does what he'd have never done and leaves Roland before reaching the Tower BUT ends up in the other reality AND gets together with the Eddie DOUBLE which looks like him but is NOT him and especially not the one who told her that... sorry but for me it died there and it kinda cheapened the pairing for the whole series. Which sucks because I used to really love it. But that, oh, how that pissed me off.

END SPOILERS

You have the power to make one ship nonexistent. Choose from #10 or #12.

Oh, Kate/Sawyer and Jack/Kate. Indeed. I can stand Nate/Lisa even if I don't like it, but triangle het pairings? No thanks. Even if I guess that Lost wouldn't be Lost without the triangle, but the way they handled it since mid S3? No thanks.

Which ship do you prefer #2 or #4?

Er. Oh God. Hard, but... Roland/Eddie. God, I love that ship so much, it compares just with a couple others and for how much I love A/C, they're a too new addition. ;)

What interests you about #14?

It's intriguing and I think it can be incredibly well done, if done right. Dean/Castiel is obviously the most obvious pairing, but if you think about it, Sam was the one believing in angels first and I don't think that they stressed it enough on the show. It makes a wonderful love/hate pairing if you look it in a certain way, and considering all of Sam's issues, it could also make an awesome h/c pairing. I really like the idea. I just wish there was more around and that I had some nice bunny to write them.

Why did you stop liking #7?

Because S4 Claire happened and because while in S1 it really was adorable, then it became too one-sided (it was clear that Charlie was the most involved one) but it still was cute, then I just liked it, but then the complete lack of reactions from Claire in S4 apart from the first episode and the completely careless way they handled the repercussions of Charlie's death completely made me disinterested.

Did your waning interest in #9 kill your interest in the show?

Nope. Well, actually, the problem is... I liked the idea of Sawyer/Juliet before it happened. I thought it was an interesting match and they could have made a very good couple, but then it happened and I never was really sold on it. Apart from the fact that it really, really bothered me that they completely skipped the actual development, then... IDK but I just couldn't fully buy it and then while during The Incident I loved the acting in the scene where she fell down, I still couldn't really ship them. Also, if next year it becomes the starting point for TRIANGLE AGAIN! and we find out that Sawyer was really in love with Kate throughout it'll be just cheap and cruel and I don't know if I'll like it. And anyway, my main het pairing was Jack/Juliet. *cough* That said, I'm still interested in Lost and surely a pairing I'm not sold on is not what will make me quit. Fuck, I didn't quit at once when Boone died, sincerely Sawyer/Juliet won't kill my interest in the show.

What’s a song that reminds you of #5?

David/Keith? Er, it's probably the only pairing of that bunch I never had songs for. I should think about it and get back to you.

If you could have any of these two pairings double-date, who would it be?

Er, I guess it means I choose two pairings to double date, right? Then absolutely Dean/Cas and Crowley/Aziraphale. You know Dean and Crowley would start having cargasms (neologism thanks to catoasapun, lol) and discussing the advantages of tapes over cds and the fact that Hell sucks a lot while Aziraphale and Castiel would complain about their boyfriends always talking about cars, then shake their heads over Heaven being worst than Earth and then have tea with biscuits together. ♥

Have #2 kissed yet?

No and I doubt they will since it's a book pairing, but if they had kissed no one would have even blinked.

Did #4 have a happy ending? If the show hasn't ended yet, do you think a happy ending is likely?

... er. Well.

BIG FAT SPOILERS FOR THE DARK TOWER VII (AGAIN)

On general, no. Because Eddie died in the middle of book VII and then there was that idiotic loop thing at the end and Roland got whammied back at the beginning so basically forgot everything about the seven previous books *shakes fist at King*, but... I have to say that considering everything, it had the best possible ending in itself. Because say what you want, but Eddie's last words were for Roland and he was the last person he did see and in the end Roland was the most important one for him. And differently from Suzie, Roland never had the awesome idea to forget the guy *rolls eyes*. And they had even half-kissed some one hundred pages before, so at least in the moment when it ended, it was the most decent ending I could have wished for if Eddie had to die. Also, no, I wouldn't have ever thought likely that King gave someone an happy ending *rolls eyes* and no, Susannah in that crap epilogue does not count.

What would make you start shipping #13?

Er, Jacob returning to life, I think.

If only one could happen, which would you prefer, #2 or #6?

Aziraphale/Crowley because Alec/Maurice already happened and it HAD A HAPPY ENDING! Though well, Aziraphale/Crowley is so canon that it just lacked the necessary kissing.

You have the power to decide the fate of #10. What happens to them?

Jack and Sawyer get together. Or something. Or Catch 22 and Eggtown and Something Nice Back Home never happen. Or something. Anyway, not what happened in canon.

Which of these ships do you love the most?

Er. Oh God. Well. It tears my heart to choose and Jack/Boone is a very close runner, but... Roland/Eddie. For how much I might hate King and how it ended and even if one of them was technically married, I never shipped anything so hard as I shipped them. And I think they're my most during ship since I started shipping them when I was... what, like, sixteen. I just loved their relationship so much and what I said regarding the ending just proves my point imo. They're my favorite ship and that's it. More or less.

4. Is LJ acting idiotic since yesterday for me only? I can't visualize half of the userpics, some pages load wrong and even the one to post is weird. WTF?

5. Dear my PM: not talking about the crisis doesn't mean that the crisis stops existing. Saying that the news shouldn't talk about it = not smart. This is way too 1984 for my tastes. Also, asking factory workers at some speech of yours why don't they have their wives with them and if they're all homosexuals? Not funny, by my standards. *headdesk*

6. Nothing more interesting for now really. I'm back to my computers-and-philosophical-text thing, I think. And I'll probably have some fic I owed posted tonight.

iz brain dead

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 13:38:38 GMT

Oookay. I sadly won't have a review for at least a couple of days because my camera died and I couldn't take any pictures myself so my friends are the ones who have said pictures, but since they went to the following date too I'll have to wait until they come back and pass me at least the stuff where I'm present.

But, it suffices to say that while I might still be half-deaf from being in first row near the amplifier and while mosquitoes have practically took me enough blood for a transfusion, not to mention the return trip with the train late as usual, I think I'm still into shock or something. Translation: we arrived at the place like six hours before the whole thing started, we caught the whole group outside and I fucking shook hands with Duff McKagan who actually freaking introduced himself (while wearing sandals, lol), I have two pictures with the whole group, I touched the guy thrice during the concert and he stripped in front of me I think just before singing Attitude. Considering that I've been fangirling over the guy since I was sixteen and to a serious, serious degree I think that I can go back in my corner gleeing and squeeing and whatever. The real review is coming sometime next week I guess, but it will come.

I can't freaking believe I shook hands with Duff McKagan, lol. *dies*

And now I'll be going catching up and answering comments and stuff but I mean. I MEAN. (Also, he was giving out picks during the concert and I snagged one. *dies again* Yeah, well, I'm a disgusting fangirl.)

fic, Supernatural: Four Times Dean Winchester Broke Something And One He Didn't (Dean/Castiel), PG13

Wed, 24 Jun 2009 23:17:57 GMT

... aaand, I'm back on the alphabet meme prompts! I just want to finish it. It has become a matter of honor, lol. And er, I dunno when I'll manage to answer any comments to this because it's late already and I'm off tomorrow morning, so if I don't answer for the next two days sorry for that.

Title: Four Times Dean Winchester Broke Something And One Time He Didn’t
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, duh.
Words: 3454 (seriously, I fail at brevity.)
Summary: what the title says plus, how Castiel managed to fix everything somehow.
Spoilers: up until 4x22.
Disclaimer: er, no, not mine. I wish.
A/N: for invisiblelove who wanted broken for the alphabet meme. Uh. Er. This is probably the most uneven five things fic I ever wrote mainly because the first four sections are kinda short and the fifth is longer than said four put together, but it decided to go this way. Also using for sacred_20 #5, healing.

The first time. (or the Led Zeppelin tape).

Dean is going to Stanford to ask for Sam’s help when the car’s radio breaks down with his Favorite Zeppelin Tunes tape in, exactly during Ramble On.

He pulls over as soon as he finds the space and proceeds to inspect the damage; the cassette, a mixtape he made with Sam’s kind of unwilling help two months before he left, is gone for good. The gray plastic is slightly cracked and when he pulls it out, the black tape is half out; what isn’t in, is torn and twisted and he can’t do much to repair it.

Fuck, he thinks. For a second the thinks he should just throw it away, but then he remembers Sam pretending to be bored as hell while Dean maneuvered the original tapes and made Sam read the tracklist. And it had been a work of fucking art; the tunes were his favorite, sure, but the order was everything but random and he had spent at least one week on it. Whoever said that making mixtapes is an ability that has to be mastered, said the right thing.

He just tries to put the tape back in its place as much as possible, then shoves the cassette in its box and takes the radio out along with the tools he keeps in the back of his car. It’s not like Dean Winchester doesn’t fucking know his way around a car, and his baby in particular.

When he hits the road again half an hour later, Robert Johnson’s voice fills the Impala and Dean thinks that if it wasn’t for Dad being missing, this would be a fucking tragedy.

Little does he know that this is the last time in his life when he’s allowed to think of a broken tape as a tragedy.

The second time. (Or Hell.)

The rack is where Dean breaks the first seal and at the same time breaks himself; he feels his humanity crack under the sound of his voice, tiny and weak as it says yes on the first day of his thirty-first year.

He can’t hear the sound of the first Seal breaking as the last drop of blood he will share while being on the rack drops into the fire below him; but even if he could, he wouldn’t care. He’s past that already.

Alastair asks if he has heard right, and when Dean answers yes, his voice sounds only remotely human to his ears, and strangely it matters less than one could have expected.

The third time. (Or Sam.)

He wishes he could take back what he said as soon as the words leave his lips; he realizes how wrong he was when he meets Sam’s hurt eyes and the first punch collides with his mouth.

He almost welcomes it; the skin doesn’t break under Sam’s closed fist, though, and Dean just hits back because fuck if he knows another way.

It’s all wrong though, wrong, wrong, but he doesn’t know how could he get it right, even if to be honest he hasn’t known how to get things right with Sam since a painfully fucking long while.

Then Sam turns his back and Dean says another thing he knows he will regret forever; as his brother leaves the room, Dean feels the only bond that matters shattering and he knows that at least half of it is his fault.

If he can’t mend it, he doubts he’ll ever learn to live with it, not when it has always been there; but about mending it, he doubts he ever could. The fact that everything he did earlier has become for nothing hovers there in the back of his mind; he doesn’t dwell on it too much, though. Every single part of him aches hard enough without adding that, too, and he can’t remember a pain so sharp and overwhelming since the forty years before the day he woke up in a coffin.

The fourth time. (Or Castiel.)

He’s deliberate as he pushes the statue of that angel down; it hits the floor almost in slow motion and then it shatters in a thousand tiny pieces of pristine white porcelain.

The sound is close to music to Dean’s ears, except that then Castiel appears and he can’t meet his eyes and they talk and Dean can’t even manage to punch the self-righteous son of a bitch.

When Castiel murmurs Dean, his voice low and sounding just so small and nothing but threatening, all the contrary of what should be, Dean thinks for a second that maybe, if Castiel had a heart and if it could break, it’d have made the same noise that statue did as it fell on the floor.

And then he says they’re done again because there’s nothing else he can say, even if he wishes it didn’t have to come to this (and how ironic, that’s exactly what Castiel had said before); when the echo of porcelain breaking fills his ears again, it hurts to hear it.

Castiel, of course, is gone.

The time he didn't break anything. (Or how Castiel somehow fixed it all.)

When Castiel and Chuck appear out of the blue in the back of Ruby’s car and it actually looks like Chuck is the one carrying Castiel, whose shirt is bloody and whose breath is ragged (and really, an angel breathing at all is enough to freak Dean out), Dean feels grateful that Sam is driving because he’d have crashed them all somewhere. Well, he wasn’t going to drive Ruby’s car on principle. As he casts glance after glance at Castiel from the front seat, he can’t help thinking that it just isn’t right, this is not how Cas should be, and it was because of me is all that goes through his head.

They go to Bobby’s; apocalypse is coming anyway and Dean would rather try to plan something in some place he knows than waste time searching for a motel. Also because it’s not like a group such as theirs is bound to pass unobserved. Apart from the problem of a scared-out-of-his-mind prophet of the Lord with them, there’s no way they can hide a wounded Castiel, and hospitals are out of question. Dean wonders how much time they have left and hopes that it’s more than the day they’ll need to reach South Dakota from fucking Maryland.

--

Dean volunteers for taking care of Castiel’s injuries, he owes him that much; he closes the door as Bobby makes arrangements and mutters that his house just became a hostel, that’s the fucking truth. Dean smirks, then turns towards the bed where they placed Castiel earlier and he almost screams because blue eyes are staring into his and Castiel had been out for hours and he hadn’t expected him to wake up anytime soon. Then he lets out a breath of relief, even if maybe it’d have been better for Castiel if he had stayed out.

“Hey. So you made it,” he offers, realizing that it sounds just as worried as he feels. “Want me to have a look at those wounds?”

He doesn’t say that it’s strange that Castiel is wounded at all.

“I would be grateful,” Castiel whispers, taking the coat off. Dean bites his tongue when he sees that the shirt is completely soaked in blood.

“Woah. I thought you could…”

“Heal? Yes, but not when...”

“Right. Fine, let’s see,” Dean interrupts, imagining already how it goes and not wanting to hear any of it. He doesn’t know if he can deal with it, too.

Dean comes closer, Bobby’s first-aid kit in his hands; he winces as he takes the shirt off. He throws it in a corner; it’s useless, by this point. The wounds look worse than they are, though; they might have bled a lot, but they’re all superficial. He cleans them carefully, noticing that even if the peroxide must sting Castiel doesn’t give a sign that he’s feeling any kind of pain; when he’s done, he’s left with a couple of gashes on Castiel’s shoulders and one along his forearm. He stitches everything up with a certain care (and definitely some skill) and his hands are covered in blood when he’s done.

“There you go, all fixed up. Now I guess you could use to eat something, if... you want me to go fetch something from downstairs?”

“It’s fine. Thank you. I will take care of the rest myself now.”

“You sure that you don’t need anything else?”

For a second Castiel looks at him and there’s such longing in his eyes that Dean feels a lump forming in his throat, Castiel’s expression strangely raw and direct; but it’s gone two seconds later as the angel shakes his head.

“I will be alright. Thanks again.”

“Cas. It really isn’t the time. We… you… fuck, whatever it is that you need, don’t you think I owe you one?”

“That’s the point,” Castiel whispers, so low that Dean barely hears it. “What I might need from you, I don’t want it because you... owe me one.” He says it like he’s speaking in a foreign tongue, not meeting Dean’s eyes. That lump in his throat threatens to strangle him as he looks at Castiel; the room is bathed in the warm, soft light of the sun rising and he stands against a sky that goes from orange to pink to blue wearing only his trousers, his arms crossed over his chest. Beautiful, Dean thinks automatically before shaking his head and wondering what the fuck is passing through his head now.

“But…”

“You don’t owe me nothing. What I did was my choice, and I’d do it all over again if only because I got to choose.”

“And what if I wanted to, and not because I think I owe you?”

“It’s not something you’d want.”

“Who says?”

“Dean, I wouldn’t push it, if I were you.”

“Well, I beg to fucking differ.”

“Fine, then.”

Castiel’s hand shakes as it brushes his cheek and his lips barely touch Dean’s, but the intention is unmistakable. It’s barely a kiss really, Dean has an idea that his own first kiss when he was twelve had been way, way less chaste than this one is, and to think that until now it held the first place in the chart; nonetheless, a shiver runs through his spine and it feels a lot more intimate than most. And Dean has kissed quite the number of people, so he does have an idea of what he’s talking about.

Castiel doesn’t bolt out or anything when it’s over, but doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes; fuck, Dean thinks, quite the change since he got into that barn and took a knife out of his heart. Or when he threatened to send me back to the pit.

Then again, one year ago Castiel hadn’t switched sides and hadn’t passed through some fucking conscience crisis and through Bible Camp.

Dean realizes why Castiel said what he said before, though, just as he realizes that it’s all on him, now. He closes his eyes and tries to think straight. It’s obvious what’s at stake here, and the fact that he is fucking grateful doesn’t mean he has to do anything out of repayment. Actually, he gets why Castiel wouldn’t want it. He takes a breath and thinks about it. He thinks about the kiss. He thinks about how it felt. He imagines that this happened before Castiel was hauled back in heaven. Would I want to do it again?, is the question, and Dean’s eyes snap open in surprise when the answer his head gives is yes. That yes keeps on spinning through his head. Damn. He wasn’t even aware of feeling anything of that kind towards Castiel, that’s fucking sure, but now it just somehow makes sense and even if he can’t name the feeling, not really, he isn’t sure that it’s all born out of gratitude.

Either way, he could fuck everything up; serves him good for insisting, but he can’t say that he’ll think about it. There is no time to think about it and so he does things the usual way and acts instead.

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“If I told you I wanted to do it again?”

“Dean, this is not a game. I’d appreciate it if…”

“I’m not joking. And I know. I just need to understand something.”

“And you would understand it if we did it again?”

“Probably.”

Dean has never felt so much like a fucking girl as now, no shit. He can’t remember how many times he’s been told the same thing but he doesn’t think about it as he kisses Castiel again, this time taking care to do things properly. Castiel sighs as he parts his lips and Dean’s skips a beat as their tongues meet in a tentative way of sorts; the kiss deepens but it stays slow and Dean can’t help noticing that Castiel is kissing him like he didn’t feel worthy of the act and that he’s doing the same. And then he realizes that it’s the only thing that feels wrong here and so he plunges his tongue deeper; as he does, Castiel’s hands grip both of his shoulders, one right over where the scar is and Dean brings him closer without really thinking. It feels good. It feels better than good. It feels like Castiel is raising him out again and putting the pieces together a second time, more or less, except that this time Dean actually remembers it.

He doesn’t pull apart when the kiss breaks.

“So, did you decide?” Castiel asks, and Dean knows. He doesn’t answer and as he kisses Castiel again and hands grip his shoulders tighter and bring him even closer, he wonders if Castiel feels as whole as he does.

--

He’d have stayed, but Castiel had stood up and said he should have a talk with Sam; and well, he’s right. It isn’t like they actually talked since Maryland. And he knows he has to, even if true to history he’d be really, really glad to postpone.

But considering where postponing or not doing at all brought the both of them, maybe it’s time that he actually changes habits, and that his brother does the same.

Sam is sitting in the kitchen, turning an empty glass of water between his hands and looking utterly miserable. Well, no surprise here. He takes care to be as noisy as possible as he gets closer, but Sam doesn’t raise his head.

“Sam?”

Sam shrugs, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, I’m getting offended here. Believe me, I lost my good share of fights, but never against a glass.”

Sam cracks a very, very small smile and puts the glass away. When he looks up at Dean, he looks dead tired, and who blames him. His shoulders are shaking, too. Damn, Dean thinks, then shakes his head. It isn’t the moment for arguing, or for thinking that there’s another detox on the horizon.

“Hey. Listen, I’m… I’m sorry. I never should have said what I said in that room. Not that I don’t still think that you acted like the oversized moron you are, but I shouldn’t have said that. I never… screw it, you didn’t get my voicemail, did you?”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Actually, I did. And it wasn’t all that different.”

“The fuck? Sorry but it was.”

“Not really.” Sam’s voice is so miserable that Dean feels chilled to the bone.

“Can I… can I hear it? If you still have it.”

“Suit yourself.”

Sam throws the phone at him and Dean barely catches it; his hands shake as he searches for the lost call and he feels like throwing up when he hears his voice saying things he never said. No wonder that Sam went through with it, he thinks, and then really feels like retching even if he has barely eaten anything in three days, and he definitely feels like crushing the fucking phone against the wall.

“That’s crazy as fuck. I never said this!”

“And what did you say, then?”

Dean is about to answer when another hand grabs the phone. It’s Castiel, who seemingly is still perfectly capable of sneaking up on him without making a sound.

“He’s not lying.”

“What the… Cas, what’s up with that?”

“Do you really think that my superiors hadn’t set up… any precautions?”

His voice is low and Dean feels alarmed when Sam glances at Castiel in a way which is everything but friendly, but Castiel seemingly doesn’t notice. He closes his hand around the cellphone, lets out a breath, turns it in his fingers.

“Try now,” Castiel whispers as he places the phone on the table at which Sam is sitting. Then he leaves. Sam takes it back in his hands and puts it next to his ear, looking everything but convinced. And then his eyes widen and his legs tremble as he stands up. When it’s over he hears it again and Dean thinks that he can’t remember seeing him so devastated in his whole life. And that’s saying a lot.

The phone falls on the table as Sam takes a breath. “Fuck. I’m… I just… I can’t believe that…”

“Hey. It’s… alright, Lucifer’s on the rise but I mean… it’s alright. We both fucked up and that’s it. Don’t…” He wants to say don’t beat yourself up, but he keeps his mouth shut. It just doesn’t sound like the appropriate thing to say, even if Dean would like to know what the fuck is the appropriate thing to say. He doesn’t think that there’s one. “I mean, you acted like an idiot and you never said a thing, but I didn’t insist either and maybe I should have, and I shouldn’t have said that anyway. Come on, do you really think I’d give up on you at this point?”

There’s silence again. Sam stands, Dean thinks that it’s not the time to care about chick flick moments and just throws his arms around Sam, and he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he had been holding when Sam holds him back so hard that it hurts. And it feels so good that he can’t even begin to describe it.

--

Dean had thought they could try to come up with a plane just after, but he had forgotten that his brother still had demon blood to clear out of his system and while there wasn’t need for the panic room, Sam stays holed up in Bobby’s guest room and they figure that it’s not like they can’t wait. If the Apocalypse starts, so be it; if not, they can wait four days. And while most of the time Dean ignores Sam saying that he can deal with it alone and spends a good half of the day in the room with him, now he wants to go for a drive, just because. Well, fine, he can have a break, right? Then he thinks why not, and asks Castiel if he wants to come. Castiel nods and ten minutes later Dean is driving without a destination, the scenery always the same and nothing that suggests that the world is going to end. They don’t talk, not really; Dean doesn’t even turn the music on, he doesn’t think that Castiel is the kind who likes Metallica, when he hears a noise and sees that Castiel is looking through the tapes box.

“What…?”

“It was there. Do you mind?”

“Uh. No. Suit yourself. If you want to listen to something, just pop it in.”

He won’t give Castiel the shotgun shuts his cakehole speech.

“Why do you keep a broken one?”

Dean glances at his left; Castiel is holding between his fingers that blasted Zeppelin tape which got busted when he was going to see Sam at Stanford.

“Oh. That one. It broke a while ago. But… it used to be my favorite. I kept it just for kicks. I know it’s useless but… sentimental value, you might say.”

Castiel nods at him and doesn’t say anything; Dean keeps on driving and just doesn’t register it when he hears the noise of a tape being pushed in. After all he had told Cas to choose something, right?

He almost crashes the car when Ramble On starts, and exactly from the point it was when that tape died years ago. He stops the Impala and looks at Castiel in disbelief.

“What… it was broken!”

“Not anymore,” Castiel answers, the right corner of his lips turned up in a smirk, and Dean just smiles back, starts the car again and turns up the volume.

End.

stuff + memes

Wed, 24 Jun 2009 08:39:06 GMT

1. Okay, so, from tomorrow to the day after I'm on a leave of absence because I'm taking a flash trip with _izu_ and marlonob to see Duff McKagan + Loaded in concert somewhere near Modena, and I just hope no one posts everything important I might miss. ;)

2. That said, I probably will have another ficlet for the darned alphabet meme later. I can finish that, can I?

3. Memes galore because today I'll need to take breaks from the awesomeness that it's computers in relation to philosophical texts. What joy.

3a. This from invisiblelove:

1. Reply to this post, and I will pick six of your icons.
2. Make a post (including the meme info) and talk about the icons I chose.
3. Other people can then comment to you and make their own posts.
4. This will create a never-ending cycle of icon glee.

by isis2015

LOL. Well, this one is mostly because I needed a funny SPN icon and as soon as I saw it I had to grab it. It's a quote from Buffy (which I didn't watch) but come on, it's SO PERFECT for Castiel. I still giggle anytime I look at it, and the actual composition is lovely.

by prettybutt

Well, that speaks for itself. I always have a Des + blue shirt icon in rotation, and that one had also the personal jesus line which is just perfect for him, I had to grab it. *loves*

by marylou_gr

This has more than one reason. First, IT'S GORGEOUS. Look at it. Just look at it. The composition and the coloring is pure genius and I just love it. THEN, look at the meaning. I mean, it's one of my favorite scenes in Lost ever and I just don't like Locke well enough anymore to have my Locke icon without Boone in and that part was just... guh. Also, I love that episode. And also, he needs to clean his own mess.

by mediocrechick

This... well, it's fairly uncomplicated. I need a Vincent icon and I needed a porn icon too, so I found it and took it because it fit perfectly. ;)

by hobbitholes

Aw, I love this one so much. It's my second Lost OTP and while it's not the main one I use for the pairing it's just... AWWWW. The stick figures are SO CUTE and they're HAND HOLDING and they're freighty love!! *melts*

by lasamy

I won't ever, ever change this one. Apart from it being PERFECT, it's my OTP, my favorite scene in the history of Lost ever, the defining turning point of my fandom life and come on, the composition and coloring and text are gorgeous and so well put. I ♥ it. Seriously.

3b. This from... like, everyone.

Name a fandom, and I'll give you the scoop on at least three of my unpopular opinions related to that fandom. -> usually, my scoops imply that I like slash way more than any canon pairings, but still.

3c. This from elliotsmelliot:

Choose one of the TV shows, movies or books you know I’m familiar with, and I’ll tell you which character I’d pick for the following:

Best & Worst Roommate:
Best & Worst Neighbour:
Best & Worst Houseguest:
Who would I get to help me garden?
Who would I get to help me decorate?
Who would I get to help me with any repairs/renovations?
Who would I get to help me move?
Who would I trust to sell me the property?
Who would I invite over for my first dinner?

4. Okay, I'm off to buy groceries and then studying and then editing stuff. -nod-

completely random post as usual, with music, misha collins and whatever else

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 12:42:47 GMT

1. Uh, I still have one Dreamwidth code. Anyone wants?

2. So, yesterday, after months of searching for it, I located a copy of Sowing The Seeds - The 10th Anniversary, aka the MOST AWESOME compilation in the history of ever, full of awesome people and political songs and I seriously mean it (I mean, I bought it because there was The Ghost Of Tom Joad sung by Pete Seeger AND Bruce Springsteen, but there's also Lou Reed, Burce Cockburn, Roger McGuinn, STEVE EARLE, Billy Bragg, Ani DiFranco, Tim Robbins and a heap of other awesome people, famous and less famous). And then I'm looking at the tracklist and what is there? A song named Namaste by The Kennedys. It probably doesn't have anything to do with Lost but it's still amusing as hell. And it's a nice song too.

3. Er, so, given that I need some Misha Collins in my life and since I still don't know if I have the stomach to see Karla and I'm waiting for his episodes of 24 to get to the newsstand at a cheaper price (next week they should start) and since I had downloaded Finding Home some two weeks ago I just went and watched it. And then... well. The problem is that either he's too good or I'm a disgusting sap or I'm an even more disgusting fangirl because while that movie had an obviously cheesy/ridiculous plot, some of the most cheesy lines I've ever heard all my life, made at least two of my teeth rot and was so predictable that I was figuring things out ten minutes before they happened, I still wouldn't give it less than five out of a ten. I mean, dammit, it's exactly the kind of Hallmark stuff that would make me want to roll my eyes and pass on, but... er. When there was a very, very cheesy thing happening in the last half concerning him and the main girl I started going 'AWWWWWWWW' and then there was an ending which was the definition of cheese or fluff and I still was even more AAAAWWWWWWWW (even if they used every possible single cliché they could) and then the real ending was EVEN MORE CHEESY and it concerned children too (and me + children = not usually a good match) and I still was sold on it like an idiot. Dammit. At least it left me in a good mood. I can't freaking believe that he sold me such a thing. Also, he played the piano. *flails*

4. By the way, movies speaking, when I was at my grandparents' I caught one of the few Wilder movies I hadn't seen on cable, said movie was One, Two, Three and it's freaking hilarious and awesome and I think I need the dvd. I don't know why it's so underrated but it was something wonderful.

5. I'm officially signed up for scifibigbang. Good luck to me, especially since I'm still completely undecided about what I should go for with the SPN one. I think I'll go with the WWII AU with Lost, I want to tackle the Some Like It Hot AU before and I don't want to wait until December to post it anyway if I do.

6. I found Steve Earle's latest record!! \o/ About one month and a half since it came out, true, and I had to pay in blood for it or something since of course it has to cost more than the average new record out, but still. I found it anyway! Now I just wish I could find the... er, like, four or five that I'm missing *sigh*.

7. And on to serious business for a second, the way the Iran election is covered here? Ludicrous. Or at least that's what I think if before showing it they lose fifteen minutes with random interviews to politicians about the administrative elections. No one gives a damn, or at least not me.

8. Okay, I should probably go studying for the only easy exam I get this round. I don't have exactly much force of will but I'll find it somewhere. And er, this entry was even more pointless than usual I guess, but I've done worse. I think. And that Namaste song is infecting my brain, I think.

fic, Good Omens/Supernatural: Misery Likes Company (Dean/Crowley; one sided D/C and C/A), R

Mon, 22 Jun 2009 22:32:14 GMT

Okay, so, this was for the Dean/Cas kink meme but it seriously got too long and splitting it in comments was hell. And as soon as I read the prompt my head went that way and uh, hi, never written Crowley in anything I posted before (why, I'm crossovering them now but with the right pairings), so just go easy on poor me.

Title: Misery Likes Company
Rating: (hard) R
Pairing: Dean/Crowley, one sided Dean/Castiel and Crowley/Aziraphale
Words: 3905
Summary: talking about his feelings for Castiel with a demon who was in love with another angel isn't exactly what Dean had signed for when he decided to take a walk in the park. And he definitely hadn't signed for more than talking.
Spoilers: until 4x18 for Supernatural, for GO... well, general for the whole book more or less.
Disclaimer: I can't be Eric Kripke, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett at once, right? So not mine, even if I wouldn't object if I owned either. ;)
A/N: written for the Dean/Castiel kink meme for the prompt so, Dean waits for something or another in a public place, sitting on a bench or something. Some random upset girl decides it's a good idea to tell a stranger about her tragic love. In response, Dean in all honesty tells her what's it like to be in love with an angel. It can be a crossover with something. With equally impossible pairing. Aziraphale/Crowley, or Martha/Doctor or someone else. Don't ask me why I decided that Dean/Crowley was a good pairing. It just seemed so. ;) First time with me writing Crowley, more or less. Sorry for the lack of notes, I'll make it up next time I write GO stuff.

The problem, Dean thinks, is that it seems like he can't have ten minutes of peace for himself.

It's either Sam or Cas or demons or angels or Seals to save or battles to fight or people to save and he doesn't even have some time while he sleeps because hello, nightmares still; and sincerely, he doesn't think that just half an hour on his own is that much to ask. That's why, since Sam was out doing research anyway, he has decided to just go for a stupid, dumb walk in the park and sit on a bench and just chill out.

Now, fine, maybe the park and especially the bench weren't exactly the brightest idea he's ever had, especially because as soon as he sat in the afternoon sunlight he could only think about that other time on a bench when Cas was there too and.. right. No.

Except that then this random girl had come and asked him whether the other half of the bench was free. And he had said yes. And that had been the worst idea he has had in the last year or so, because after a minute she starts talking. And well, she's pretty lovely to be honest, tall enough, long straight chestnut hair, two heart-shaped lips red as a cherry and two striking green eyes which would have definitely been enough to draw his attention in any other circumstance.

In any other circumstance, because well.. not in this. In the following three minutes Dean learns that her name is Desiree, she's twenty-three, she works as a shop assistant in a lingerie store (pretty spot on for a profession, Dean thinks as he looks at her), she's from some hole in Utah and she's trying to model without much success, and most important thing of all, she's miserable. Oh, so miserable, and why? Because of that son of a bitch of her boyfriend, some guy named George who, from what she says, has to be the biggest jerk on the face of the Earth.

"... because you see, we met at the store, he was there with his sister, and you know, he looked at me and I looked at him and he came back the next day and you know how it is, right? So before I even know we're dating and he's just so... oh, you should have seen him. He's so beautiful, and nice, and polite, and did I tell you he has a degree in... how it was, some archaic language, philology, all that stuff..."

"Latin, maybe?"

"Yeah, Latin! Exactly. Why, are you in..."

"No. But I know Latin. Professional reasons."

"Oh. Wow. That's cool. Anyway, you see, he's just so, so, you know, perfect? Except that this morning he just... he just..."

She breaks down crying and Dean curses his life.

"He dumped me! He said I wasn't good enough! How awful is that? How can someone say that?"

She sniffs and sobs and breaks down crying and Dean decides it's enough. He doesn't work for any fucking magazine and he doesn't give love advice, but if she wants her tragic love she's going to get it. Because fuck, he doesn't talk about this, ever, but maybe it'll just make her get lost.

"Hey, Desiree, you wanna hear a story? A real tragic story, I mean."

"What.. what do you mean?"

"I mean that this? This is not tragic. You want to know what tragic means? I'm sure I can get it across. Or try, at least. See, let's say there is one person. This guy who has screwed up some serious shit and has died and ended up in Hell for that, and he was smart enough to actually sell his soul. Not to mention that he'd do it all over again, but anyway. Our man spends forty years in Hell, and they ain't the best years of his life, or death. Also, while he's there he pulls some serious crap, but let's just ignore this part of the story. Suffices to know, one day a honest-to-God angel of the Lord, sorry for the joke, comes and pulls him out. And so our guy gets back to the living, and he meets said angel of the Lord, who is kind of a dick even if a very attractive dick, and he's told that he needs to stop an incoming Apocalypse. Nice, huh? Anyway, the angel drops by sometimes and then more often, and our guy at the beginning is pissed off because he just can't stand the self-righteous son of a bitch, then he, uh, gets adjusted, then he fucking starts to look forward to said dick dropping by. It doesn't help that our angel has chosen a very attractive guy as his vessel, but point is, one day our guy realizes that hey, wait a second, he actually likes this angel person, worse, he fucking cares about this angel person. Now, considering that angels don't really feel as real people do and the best our guy can hope is some mere, you know, charge/guardian kind of fucking thing, not to mention that with all the shit he did downstairs he doesn't even get while this angel he's, uh, involved with, at least on his side, should give a fucking damn, how do you think he feels?"

Dean takes a breath, realizing that he probably has never talked so much at once all of his life. Or something. Desiree looks at him completely dumbfounded.

"Miserable doesn't even beginning to cover it. Fuck, he doesn't even have an idea how to deal with it, especially since he has always liked chicks, and liked them a lot. And anyway, however things go, said angel will end up returning back to Heaven someday, so he can forget about it. Whoever said better to have something and lose it than not having it at all probably was an idiot and..."

Desiree stands up and leaves without a word; Dean lets out a breath of relief. She probably took him for some nutcase, which is just fine with him. Just-fucking-fine. He takes his head in his hands and shakes it. It aches. Fuck, he didn't need a headache now. And then he opens his eyes and sees that someone else is sitting next to him. Fun. He didn't even hear him.

This new stranger is more or less his height, is dressed in fucking designer's clothes, all black and definitely stylish, he had to give him that. He wears snake skin shoes and Dean figures he's got money. Good for him. But Dean also has to admit that he's pretty handsome; his cheekbones are really good, his pale skin contrasts deliciously with short-but-not-too-short black hair; his lips are curved in a somewhat sympathetic smile and he wears sunglasses so dark that Dean can't even distinguish his eyes beneath the shades.

"Er. Hello?" he offers after a minute during which they just stare at each other. The stranger shrugs and the smile becomes more of a smirk.

"Hi yourself. You're probably wondering what the he-, I mean, what the bloody fuck I'm doing here, right?"

Dean nods, trying to process the accent. British. Definitely British. What the fuck is some Brit rich guy doing in the town next to Chuck's, or the Prophet Chuck's, he'd really like to know.

"Well, I was... let's say taking a walk. I needed to clear my head from some stuff, and... let's say I overheard you and that girl earlier."

"You were eavesdropping?!"

"I was barely overhearing, you weren't exactly whispering. Not that eavesdropping isn't a good part of my business, but anyway, that isn't the problem. I was saying, I heard you, and I'm bloody sorry to say, it sounds like we have the same problem."

"What? You've been to Hell, too?"

"Not exactly. I come from Hell, and I'm... fuck, oh, let's bloody say it out loud, in love with an angel."

Dean stares for ten good seconds. Then blinks. The guy hasn't moved.

"You're crazy," he states soon after, but the guy shakes his head.

"Not really. Not that our lady friend there hasn't thought the same thing about you. And if you want proof of at least the first part..."

He pushes the glasses slowly down his face and Dean almost screams when he sees two golden eyes shining with something definitely inhuman whose pupils are vertical just as a snake's. Then the guy pushes them back up again and smiles a friendly smile which Dean can't really place.

"Are you convinced now? Don't worry, I'm no ordinary demon. Actually, I'm Hell's agent on Earth, even if more than their dirty work I do my own dirty work, if I explain myself. I don't want to harm you or anything and if you were in Hell I sure as fuck don't envy you. I didn't apply for the Earth job as soon as possible because I was bored. And not that I wanted to be there anyway, you know, not when I didn't even fall."

"You didn't fall?"

"No. Let's say I vaguely sauntered downwards, but that's not our main concern."

"Right. So, you're... in love with an angel... how the fuck should I call you anyway?"

"Anthony J. Crowley, for your knowledge, but Crowley will do. What about you?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester, but Dean will do."

"Bloody great. I was saying, well, yes. And since I can't exactly talk about it with anyone, see, you came exactly at the right moment. Or well. Were there. Whatever."

"Who is he?"

"Heaven's agent on Earth. His name is Aziraphale, he freaking collects books, he has hideous taste in clothing because he always wears tartan, we've known each other for six thousand years, we stopped a sodding Apocalypse together, more or less, and we usually mind our business and have an arrangement and feed some crazy ducks at a park in London, where I should actually be right now but I just wanted to take a walk somewhere far. Oh, and I tempt him to lunch most times and I just don't have a fucking chance. What about yours?"

Dean shrugs and closes his eyes. "His name is Castiel, I don't think he's anyone's agent but maybe it's better like this, he's a self-righteous son of a bitch who was a dick when I met him first and not so much lately, probably because he has started to feel or whatever crap it is. He always wears a ridiculous trench coat which looks right out of some fucking Columbo episode, he dragged me out of Hell, he seems to believe that I can stop an Apocalypse, he doesn't have a sense of humor, likes trashy novels which will become my and my brother's gospel and I just have no fucking chance."

Crowley laughs and shakes his head, somehow amused.

"You don't want to make him fall, right?"

"Oh, fuck no. I'd never... you don't either, right? And I bet he's always speaking like a printed book and always tells that God has a plan and you need to have faith in Him, right?"

"He- dam-, oh, for someone's sake, yes. Way-too-fucking-much. An INEFFABLE plan, too. And he always stares calmly just like that and then says some idiotic thing but you just can't come up with anything else to say because it's just so him to say it."

"Fuck, yes. And then he stares at you with fucking blue eyes which are just too big for their own good and you can't refuse shit."

"Why, does the vessel have blue eyes?"

"Yeah. Your guy too?"

"Yesss. Maybe it's an angel thing. And he just has no fucking fashion sense."

"Are you kidding me? Suit and Columbo trenchcoat? What fashion is that?"

"Do you think that tartan suits are any better? They're just a punch in the eye..."

"... but not that much if he wears them, right?"

Crowley smirks and shakes his head. Dean does the same.

"No. Bloody he- fuck, no. And you always feel like you shouldn't even be allowed to stand in the same room because you're just not that worthy sometimes, even if to be honest it happens only when I'm really drunk. After six thousand years I got over that."

"Lucky you, I only had one and I totally haven't."

"And then one day it'll just really happen and we'll be on opposite sides and I won't ever see him again."

"And then one day however it ends he'll be back where he belongs and I'll either end up here or stuck in Hell again because I really can't see myself in Heaven."

They look at each other for some ten seconds without saying anything.

"Fuck. We really make a pair, don't we?" Dean offers, not even caring that he's basically being friendly with a demon. Mostly because this guy here is probably the first person he met since he got out of Hell who seems to understand him square and straight.

"One of a kind," Crowley murmurs, even if it isn't spiteful or anything.

"Hey. You can take off the glasses. I won't freak out."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. And anyway, the demons I meet all have black eyes. Yours have a color. I'm more than fine with it."

"Why, I'm offended here. I told you I'm not any demon," Crowley smirks as he takes the glasses off. Dean takes a better look. After the first shock, they don't look too weird. Actually, the gold is almost shining in there and they seem just.. particular. Or unique. Or something.

"That I had understood. Is that because you've been here a while?"

"He- fuck, yes. I mean, your world is a good place to live and you lot aren't as bad as one could think. Surely you're better company than my company downstairs, and from what I gather, mostly better than the company upstairs too. And you're awfully easy to tempt, but don't worry. I never overdo it. Mostly. Anyway, I like it well enough here. So what's this story of another Apocalypse anyway? Clearly no one saw fit to tell me, but after last time I can't exactly blame them."

Dean shrugs and tells and Crowley doesn't look too pleased. His pupils narrow from time to time and Dean thinks he actually looks angry or something.

"Fuck," he says when Dean is done, "you have quite the burden on you."

Dean doesn't answer, but then Crowley abruptly pushes his glasses back up and stands up, raising him by the elbow.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I think that you and me need a sodding drink. Or more than one."

"You wanna get wasted about the Apocalypse and angels with whom we're stupid enough to think we could have some fucking happily ever after with?"

"That was exactly my plan."

"Fine. Which bar?"

"Bar? For He- someone's sake, I'm not stooping that low."

--

The next thing Dean knows is that he's in an extremely luxurious five-star hotel room, with a double bed with red silk sheets, a bathroom which looks almost as large as the actual suite, a coffee machine in the corner, a flat TV screen with cable on the wall and it isn't even campy. It's... classy. Crowley is closing the small fridge in front of the bed and Dean can't help noticing that he really has a very, very nice ass as Crowley stands up from his kneeling position. Suddenly a couple of glasses appear on the bed just right next to where Dean is sitting; Crowley goes on the other side and hands him some French or Italian red wine; when Dean reads the date he almost faints.

"Shit. That's..."

"Some bloody fucking great stuff. I know. I have my resources, as you probably realized. If I need to be here at least I'll be comfortable."

"Is this your hotel?"

"Pretty much, yes. So, to idiotic angels without any sense of fashion or an idea about what good music is?"

Dean lets Crowley fill the glass and then blinks. "Why, is... Aziraphale oblivious about good music too?"

"He fucking calls the Rolling Stones be-bop. I guess he's freaking clueless if you're talking about anything that existed after fucking Stravinsky."

"Ha. Well, still better than no clue at all."

"That's a sad thing."

"It fucking is. Cheers."

And that's how Dean gets wasted in the company of Hell's agent on Earth, who behaves more like a human than a lot of people he met. He figures that maybe he has just gone fucking native.

--

"No way, you just didn't tell me that you own a fuckin' 1926 Bentley. That's... no no no, that's imposs.."

"That's fuckin' possssssible, I bought her firsst hand. Pity that all the tapes turn into Best Of Queen shit, buut, well, job stuff."

"Fuck. Man, Queen? That's just, uh, evil."

"Don't you tell me. I hate fucking Queen. And anyway, you said '67 Chevrolet Impala?"

"Oh, yes. She's, like, the, uh, most perfect thing in, er, ex... existence. And fuck, I really am wasted."

"Yesss," Crowley agrees, "but I could ssober up."

"Yeah, you could, and what 'bout me?"

"No, I mean, fuck, yesss, you're right. I won't sober out of, uh, sssolidarity. Or somethin'."

"Another one for solidarity?"

"Pour that. Hell, if he saw me now..."

"Who, Ariza... sorry, Azipha... not, I just..."

"Aziraphale. Don't worry, 'ts a long name and we're drunk. Well, fine, he gets drunk too, but if he knew I was gettin' wasted over him..."

"Well, if Cas knew that 'bout me he'd just... uh, I dunno, I don't even wanna know."

"Cassss?" Crowley hisses before biting his tongue. "You're so screwed. I mean, in six thousand years I... uh, never nicknamed him. Oh, you're so screwed."

"Well, yeah, but after six... uuh, six thousand years I probably would've gathered some courage and spilled it out, y'know?"

".... point taken," Crowley hisses, and then they look at each other in the eyes for the first time since they really started getting wasted and Dean suddenly realizes that while Crowley is nothing like Cas he's attractive as hell and he hasn't gotten any since Anna, and Crowley realizes that Dean is fucking nothing like Aziraphale but he's warm and you all know about the deal with snakes and warmth and before Dean's brain starts to act (difficult, since he's drunk) he's thrown on the bed, achingly hard, with Crowley's mouth inches from his and golden eyes staring down at him, and Crowley is as hard as he is.

"Fuck," he spits, and Crowley nods, but he doesn't move. "This is crazy," Dean mutters, but doesn't even try to do anything.

"It sodding is, but anyway, what d'you wanna do?"

"Fuck, never heard of a demon asking consent."

"I told you, I..."

"You're the exception confirming the rule, uh, yeah, got that. Y'know what? Let's just royally fuck this up."

Crowley honestly-to-God smirks and as his hand yanks Dean's jeans down, Dean just feels drunk and miserable and horny and just, why the hell not? And so he brings Crowley's head down in a kiss which is all teeth and clashing and blood, but that's how it should feel. They're both no angels after all.

--

Not that it's a problem after all; Crowley's hands are skilled and Dean moans helplessly as those fingers touch him everywhere and he doesn't mind if he gets bruises; he kisses just taking and Dean doesn't want to receive anything, so he's more than willing to give. And he's a fucking tease (right, demon there) and that fucking tongue does some really wicked things anywhere it lands, his mouth or his cock or his skin, whatever, and Dean arches and thrusts up and when Crowley's hands grab his hips he just lets him and meets his touch; and then there's a finger, and then two, and then Crowley is inside him and Dean moans against his neck and teeth bite his shoulder so hard it draws blood. Dean comes with a gasp and a deeper moan from the back of his throat, his body shuddering in pleasure; Crowley just soon after with a similar sound which is maybe quieter but still there and Dean doesn't even mind when Crowley barely moves after he pulls out.

He thinks he sees some outline of wings as Crowley comes. Fuck, he is wasted.

But, drunk as he might be, he has figured out the whole snake business and sincerely he can use some warmth in his bed, even if he's the one providing most of it.

--

It's early morning when they sit again on the bench, Crowley looking just as stylish and casual as the day before while Dean has the mother of all hangovers, but it was actually worth it. He thankfully accepts the aspirin Crowley miracles out of thin air along with a glass of water.

"Sorry about that. Healing is for angels, not for us. Next time try to get drunk with your Cas, he probably would save you the consequences."

"The day I get drunk with him it's the day God appears to me in person. Anyway, thanks. For the aspirin. And... the rest. Y'know. You really aren't as bad as you try to be."

"Fun. He told me almost the same thing once. Aziraphale, I mean."

"Well, then maybe it could just be true."

"Sodding sure it is. Cut that crap, really. And don't beat yourself up too much, whatever happened to you down there... that can't have been much of your fault. I know my side. Don't beat yourself up too much."

Dean nods, taking a breath. "You know. He didn't... exactly tell me that, Cas I mean, but I figure that it was the meaning."

"What a pair. Indeed."

"Hey. Maybe you should just try. I mean, you know each other since... what the fuck, creation or whatever. From what you said I gather that he really doesn't mind you around that much, all the contrary. You can tell him at least. He'd know if... right?"

"Tsk. I could say the same thing to you. I mean, bloody he-, whatever, he drags you out of hell and he still hasn't given up on you, dick as he might be, and I believe you there because they totally can be the worse dicks around, maybe he does care about you."

Their half-smiles are both absolutely miserable.

"Like we'd ever do it," Dean whispers, and Crowley breathes out and shrugs in agreement.

"Well, who knows. I think I'm late for feeding the sodding psychotic ducks."

"And my brother is probably worried out of his mind. Guess I'll go. But... well, it was... I can't exactly say the happiest night of my life but..."

"Oh, shit, not that. I get that. Just no, alright? It wasn't, fine, but... just get lost," Crowley blurts, but as he pulls the glasses down Dean sees that the expression is everything but hostile. He nods and stands up.

"Right. Well. If I stop it, good luck. If I don't... see you sometime. Eventually."

"Just bloody stop it, alright?"

Dean nods and Crowley disappears in thin air; Dean turns his back on the bench and walks on. He feels strangely fine, for having the mother of all hangovers. Maybe it's just because misery likes company, but still, better than nothing.

End.

quick post with birthdays and stuff

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 13:24:47 GMT

1. First, I hope I'm on time and that I didn't miss stuff, but happy birthday ladymacbeth77 and carrielynne2323! Sorry that I have no banners but I hadn't expected to be out of town :// I hope you both have a great day and an even more awesome year in front of you! ♥

2. I forgot last time, but I have two Dreamwidth codes. Anyone wants? First come first served. ;) And if you're on there and I haven't added you for some reason tell me, I'm janie_tangerine as usual.

3. So, yesterday while on the train (which was one hour late of course, but whatever) I read Nick Hornby's Shakespeare Wrote For Money and it's awesome. I mean, it's all book recs, but it's such fun, and of course now I have at least another fifteen books that he recced which I'd love to read. Also because the guy's tastes are frighteningly close to mine *cough* even if I was pretty bummed that he didn't appreciate Orwell's essays as much as I did. Not that it stopped him from buying Tropic of Cancer as I did because George talked wonders about it. ;) [also, I never had it in a rec post, but I did finish it and it's some great stuff. Tropic Of Cancer, I mean.]

4. Apart from that, the ride was decent, stuff is not crazier than usual, I bought myself some new clothes at the street market down here, I still wasn't subjected to the singing and someone has to explain me why is it that my Velvet Revolver obsession is back in full force.

5. My PM is making me become a moralist, at least concerning him. When did that happen? :/

6. Anyway, all for now. Not the most interesting post in the history of ever and I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but anyway. *waves* I hope everyone is having a great weekend!

Politics, and serious for once, and not Italian.

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 06:31:28 GMT

So, I haven't said a thing here about this mainly because it'd have turned into some ugly rant. Not to mention that if I think about this and then about the next voting round here on Sunday I want to throw up and for once I feel grateful for my country, but that's a whole other issue. I've done everything that was advised to help on Twitter and I'm gladly re-posting this hoping that meanwhile someone does organize some march or something here because I'd love to do something that isn't just over the Internet. ~~I don't know when I'll answer to any comments because of my exam tomorrow but I will at some point.~~ Re-posting this from another journal where things were phrased definitely better than I ever could phrase them.

If you are reading this right now, you have more luxury than someone in Iran could ever hope for right now. If you are watching TV or a video on youtube, updating your status on Facebook, Tweeting, or even texting your friend, you are lucky. If you are safe in your home, and were able to sleep last night without the sounds of screaming from the rooftops, you need to know and understand what is happening to people just like you in Iran right now.

They are not the enemy. They are a people whose election has been stolen. For the first time in a long time, a voice for change struck the youth of Iran, just as it did for many people in the United States only seven months ago. Hossein Mousavi gained the support of millions of people in Iran as a Presidential candidate. He stands for progressiveness. He supports good relations with the West, and the rest of the world. He is supported with fervor as he challenges the oppressive regime of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

On Friday, millions of people waited for hours in line to vote in Iran's Presidential election. Later that night, as votes came in, Mousavi was alerted that he was winning by a two-thirds margin. Then there was a change. Suddenly, it was Ahmadinejad who had 68% of the vote - in areas which have been firmly against his political party, he overwhelmingly won. Within three hours, millions of votes were supposedly counted - the victor was Ahmadinejad. Immediately fraud was suspected - there was no way he could have won by this great a margin with such oppposition. Since then, reports have been coming in of burned ballots, or in some cases numbers being given without any being counted at all. None of this is confirmed, but what happened next seems to do the trick.

The people of Iran took the streets and rooftops. They shout "Death to the dictator" and "Allah o akbar." They join together to protest. Peacefully. The police attack some, but they stay strong. Riots happen, and the shouting continues all night. Text messaging was disabled, as was satellite, and websites which can spread information such as Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, and the BBC are blocked in the country. At five in the morning, Arabic speaking soldiers (the people of Iran speak Farsi) stormed a university in the capital city of Tehran. While sleeping in their dormitories, five students were killed. Others were wounded. These soldiers are thought to have been brought in by Ahmadinejad from Lebanon. Today, 192 of the university's faculty have resigned in protest.

Mousavi requested that the government allow a peaceful rally to occur this morning - the request was denied. Many thought that it would not happen. Nevertheless, first a few thousand people showed up in the streets of Tehran. At this point, it is estimated that 1 to 2 million people were there. Mousavi spoke on the top of a car. The police stood by. For a few hours, everything was peaceful. Right now, the same cannot be said. Reports of injuries, shootings, and killings are flooding the internet. Twitter has been an invaluable source - those in Iran who still know how to access it are updating regularly with picture evidence. People are being brutally beaten. Tonight will be another night without rest for so many in Iran no older than I am. Tonight there is a Green Revolution.

For more information:
PICTURES:
here and here
NEW INFORMATION:
Here - near constant updates
Here - ONTD_political live post
ON TWITTER:
@StopAhmadi, @ProtesterHelp

دنیارابگوییدچطورآنهاانتخاباتمان دزدیده اند
Tell the world how they have stolen our election

- original post by one_hoopy_frood

</div></div>

fic, Supernatural: Just Some Love (Dean/Castiel), PG13, crack all the way

Tue, 16 Jun 2009 22:52:41 GMT

Okay, I was done with this, let's go with it. At least I'm starting with the stuff I owe. I swear the rest is coming soon.

Title: Just Some Love
Rating: PG, and the P is because of the swearing probably
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 1812
Summary: That bastard son of a bitch of a ghost of a country singer had turned all of his collection into Keith Urban tapes.
Spoilers: uh, let's say general S4. No specific episodes but it's set after, so..
Disclaimer: not mine, definitely not mine.
A/N/Warnings: okay, so at that meme ibroketuesday asked for Dean/Castiel crack and... uh, clearly this isn't a drabble but I can't do drabbles, especially if crack, and I fear that the premise is crack but then it got kinda on the sweet side, but I tried. ;) Using also for sacred_20 #10, curse. Warning: a lot of Keith Urban. -nod- (And I actually like him. I'm just objective, but I love him anyway *cough*).

So. If there’s a thing Dean hates, and by hating we mean hating, is spirits who believe that they have a sense of humor. Because in his experience, spirits rarely have a sense of humor, and this one they just put to rest did definitely not have one. And right now he’d kill that son of a bitch again, if only he hadn’t died twice already.

It’s bad enough when you find yourself haunting the spirit of a fucking country singer who died when his tour bus crashed in some highway in central Louisiana, and who, before they managed to track his body which had got lost in some swamp, had caused a number of similar accidents in the same section of the highway. But fuck, he shouldn’t have made any comments about country music while he and Castiel were searching for his remains (Sam had managed to splint his wrist the day before and wouldn’t have been of any help). Because that bastard, when he realized that they were going to send him to rest for good, had seen fit to put a freaking blasted curse upon his precious tapes instead of trying to fight them.

He found it out when he put on what was supposed to be a Kansas mixtape and a disgusting and cheesy and downright awful country song about a guy who says that nobody drinks alone started. He pulled the tape off, horrified when he saw that the label read Be Here – Keith Urban. Then dread took hold of him and he stopped the car. His hands trembled as he read through the labels on his tapes, which were all changed.

Golden Road.
Defying Gravity.
Keith Urban – 1991
Keith Urban - 1999.
The Ranch.
Be Here.
Love, Pain And The Whole Crazy Thing.

And since it was only seven records and he owned at least fifty tapes, there were more than one with the same record.

That bastard son of a bitch of a ghost of a country singer had turned all of his collection into Keith Urban tapes.

He might as well have committed harakiri then, but it wouldn’t have been the greatest idea with Castiel sitting next to him and looking at him perplexed, like he couldn’t get what was so wrong with the world.

“… fuck,” Dean says raising his hands in defeat. “I can’t deal with this.”

He is about to ask Castiel whether he could reverse it, except… fallen angel here, who had actually waited for the apocalypse to be over to fall, so no powers. Damn.

“Maybe Sam will find a way to reverse this. He’d better find a way to reverse this.”

“May I ask what’s so terrible about it?”

“Cas, man, it’s… Keith Urban. I mean, he’s evil. Like, evil. My poor tapes.”

Castiel doesn’t look too convinced, but still, Dean shakes his head and then takes the highway back to their motel, but after maybe five minutes he has to stop in front of a long, long, long line of cars.

“Oh, crap.”

He gets out of the car and asks the driver in front of him, then gets back behind the wheel. “Well, we’re stuck. There’s a wreck some ten miles ahead and the police is still there. Fuck.”

Castiel nods and Dean decides that this is unfair. Fuck, it’s Louisiana and it’s hot. And of course the radio isn’t catching a frequency which isn’t a local station informing him about some local kid winning some spelling championship. And he can’t stay without music when stuck in a line, but he just won’t…

“Do you mind if I turn it on?”

Fuck. Ah, well. Figures it was going to happen.

“Knock yourself out. You have seven choices. Fuck, Keith Urban.”

It’s a testament to Dean’s force of will that he doesn’t go crazy in the next two hours. Because, you see, he’s stuck in a line in Louisiana in July and he’s frying, not to mention the mosquitoes; at least five police cars pass them by at full speed, he doesn’t have anything to eat and they just have a bottle of water in two, and what does he have for a background music? For instance…

Oh, now there’s a place for you and me where we can dream as big as the sky.

And it’s the sweet love you give to me that makes me believe we can get through anything, ‘cause when it all comes down and I’m feeling like I’ll never last, I just lean on you ‘cause baby you’re my better half.

My grandmama was a wise old soul, took me by the hand not long ago.

I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw.

And I’m gonna make you a promise, if there’s life after this, I’m gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss.

When you put your arms around me you let me know there’s nothing in this world I can’t do.

I hope everyday I see in me a little more of my father in me.

After two hours of this, Dean wants to smash something. Fuck that spirit. Not only country music. Cheesy country music. Fuck, couldn’t he pick Johnny Cash or even Willie Nelson? Hell, he’d have settled for Merle Haggard if he really had to. The problem is that Castiel doesn’t exactly look as horrified as it’d be proper.

Dean ignores it.

And maybe it’s a little too early to know if this is gonna work, all I know is that you’re sure looking good in my shirt, the radio croaks, and Dean can’t wrap his head around Castiel actually smiling.

“Cas, you can’t seriously like this.”

“Well, I was merely thinking that it should sound familiar to you.”

Point taken. It isn’t like the first night after Castiel showed up outside his door after, well, after, in the morning he hadn’t put on Dean’s shirt. It’s not like he isn’t wearing a shirt of Dean’s right now.

Fuck.

That’s not what he needs to think about, not when he’s lacking air around here. Still, this thing sucks.

It’s another half an hour before the line moves; Dean leaves the radio on though, too tired to actually be freaked out at the fact that Cas is seemingly digging a lot some crap where the guy pleads the girl not to shut him out because they can talk about it and she might have doubts but they might be unfounded and she has to have a little faith to make it through. Say the word faith and here we are.

Fuuuck.

He stops the car outside a diner saying he’s going to get some food and just rolls his eyes when Castiel asks if he could keep the radio on.

It’s scary. And that curse has to be reversible, it’s not like you find tapes anymore these days. If it wasn’t… well, in Dean’s world it’d have come just shorter of the Apocalypse itself, and Dean has fucking stopped one, so you get the drill.

He gets out of the diner with one of those vegetarian burgers Castiel likes and he can’t even mock him because they actually were tasty, the two times he tried them. Meanwhile he eats his own bacon burger, and he has rarely tasted a better one, or so it seems now. Maybe he should adjust his perspectives. He hands Cas the paper bag and bites his lip in disgust when he hears what’s coming from the radio.

I heard the rumor that we’re calling it off and we won’t last too long
But I get the feeling, when I’m looking at you, baby, they’ couldn’t be more wrong
They’ve been saying it’s a shaky romance, but they don’t give the two of us too much of a chance

“Fuck, Cas, gimme a break. How can you stand that?”

But if the Grand Canyon was just some ditch, Dorothy and Toto fought just some witch
And if Babe Ruth was just some guy with a glove, then baby, this is just some love

“I believe you’re not listening to it accurately.”

“What’s to listen? It’s all cheesy chick flicks and it lacks guitars. Also, he can’t fucking sing.”

Cas smiles a little and shakes his head as he takes a bite from the burger.

I speak my mind baby, that’s for sure, you’ve got a temper or two
So when they see us start to fuss and fight, I guess they think we’re through
But if they’re judging us from what they see, they don’t have a clue about you and me

And Dean thankfully hasn’t started the car and isn’t eating anything because hell, well, maybe he can see Cas’ point but still, it’s fucking cheesy country music and seriously, and if Humphrey Bogart was just some though then baby, this is just some love? Who the fuck even writes this crap at all?

But argh, Castiel is tapping his knuckles softly against the door of the car and Dean can just imagine what is he thinking about because he’s thinking about the same thing and no, his head just hasn’t taken that road, except that it has and if the Grand Canyon was just some ditch and all that crap and fuck, he can’t believe that he actually grabbed Castiel’s hand which was resting on the brake.

He’s never going to live this shit down. And he’s thankful that Sam isn’t there, because holding hands with Castiel while listening to fucking Keith Urban in the middle of a rest area’s parking lot after hunting a country singer who cursed his tapes is too much for Dean’s pride to take. Except that Castiel grips his hand tighter and fuck, he’s getting too soft.

And then he notices that there’s another tape in the compartment under the wheel; he picks it up, turns it, sees the label.

Well, that spell must have not gone exactly right, what a lame ghost it was really, because this label says Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson – VH1 storytellers, which is way more than Dean could have hoped for. And then… then.

“Dean? Did that one survive?”

Dean can’t help noticing that it’s clear that Cas hopes it hasn’t. Well, figures he’ll gain points for sainthood in his next life, because no one can deny that what he’s about to do is an act of fucking martyrdom.

“Nope. It’s another Defying Gravity. Oh, let’s just get outta here. My teeth are rotting and a dentist is the last thing I fucking need.”

Cas nods and Dean just shrugs and starts the car as Keith proclaims that he never works on a Sunday. And if once in a while he rests his hand on the brake and soft fingers grab it, he figures he can endure another hour of shitty music.

End.

I Never Noticed How Lovely Were The Aliens - Castiel fanmix

Mon, 15 Jun 2009 10:13:11 GMT

Title: I Never Noticed How Lovely Were The Aliens
Fandom: Supernatural
Character/Pairing: Castiel POV mainly, some one-sided Anna/Castiel on her side, some Dean/Castiel
Type: Fanmix
For: misslucyjane at the Dean/Castiel co-op swap exchange.
Prompt: a fanmix from Castiel's point of view. Songs about Dean, songs about angels, songs about God, whatever.
Notes: okay, so, this would be all Castiel except a couple of songs which are kinda more of an Anna POV but I hope it's fine anyway? It covers more or less all the season I think. And uh, the genres are a bit all over the place. 1-4 are supposed to be about Heaven/God/other angels in general, 5-8 are about Anna, 9-12 are Cas himself in all his lovely doubting-self and 13-16 are Dean/Castiel.

1. My Sweet Lord - George Harrison

My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord

I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you lord
But it takes so long, my lord

2. Cassiel's Song - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

We've come to bring you home
Haven't we, Cassiel?

To cast aside your loss and all your sadness
And shuffle off that mortal coil and mortal madness
For we're here to pick you up and bring you home
Aren't we, Cassiel?

It's a place where you did not belong
Were time itself was mad and far too strong
Where life leapt up laughing and hit you head on
and hurt you, didn't it hurt you, Cassiel?

3. Personal Jesus - Johnny Cash

Your own, personal, Jesus
someone to hear your prayers, someone to care

Feeling unknown and you're all alone,
flesh and bone, by the telephone,
lift up the receiver, I'll make you a believer
I will deliver, you know i'm a forgiver

Reach out and touch faith

4. Oh, Me - Nirvana

If I had to lose a mile
If I had to touch feelings
I would lose my soul
The way I do

I don't have to think
I only have to do it
The results are always perfect
But that's old news (...)

I can't see the end of me
My whole expanse I cannot see
I formulate infinity
and store it deep inside of me

5. Know - Nick Drake

Know that I love you
Know I don't care
Know that I see you
Know I'm not there

6. Night Vision - Suzanne Vega

Now I watch you falling into sleep
Watch your fist curl against the sheet
Watch your lips fall open and your eyes dim
In blind faith

I would shelter you
Keep you in light
But I can only teach you
Night vision

7. Innuendo - Queen

If there's a God or any kind of justice under the sky
If there's a point if there's a reason to live or die

If there's an answer to the questions we feel bound to ask
Show yourself - destroy our fears - release your mask

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
Hey tread that fine line
Yeah we'll keep on smiling yeah (yeah yeah)
And whatever will be will be

8. Light Of A Fading Star - Flogging Molly

And the light of a fading star
Is what you were, is what you are
Like the glow that christens the moon
You shone too soon, you shone too soon

Oh when will this war be over?
And the madness leaves the air
This brick that's found between us
And the pulling of the hair

But if there's a reason
I don't need to know right now

9. Losing My Religion - R.E.M.

Oh, life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight, I'm losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough

10. Free Fallin' - John Mayer

I wanna glide down over Mulholland
I wanna write her, her name in the sky.
I wanna free fall out into nothin'.
Oh, I'm gonna leave this world for a while.

Now I'm free, free fallin', fallin'

11. My Back Pages - Bob Dylan

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not I'd become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My existence led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I'm younger than that now

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow

12. Loving The Alien (Sometimes) - Velvet Revolver

Sometimes I think I'm scared, sometimes I know
I feel like making love, sometimes I don't
I feel like letting go, maybe not
I feel like giving up is all we got

Sometimes is all the time
And never means maybe
Sometimes is all the time, maybe

And I'm moving on (...)

I never noticed
How lovely were the aliens

13. If I Was Your Mother - Bon Jovi

If I was your mother
Would you let me hold your hand
Would you say you were my baby
Would you always be my friend

Tell me what I got to do
To make my life mean more to you
I could get so close it's true
If I was yours

14. I Walk The Line - Travis Tritt

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you are mine, I walk the line

I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I'll admit I'm a fool for you
Because you are mine, I walk the line

15. Hostage-O - Warren Zevon

All you have to do is ask
I'll be happy to say yes
I'll put on the creepy mask
If you'll grant me some forgetfulness (...)

And this loneliness--
Unbearable
And it all goes by so slow
I will stand in line for the sacrifice
For the shamefaced love of the ugly vice
I will pay the price to see how far you'll go
Let me be your prisoner
Let me be your hostage-o

16. I'll Work For Your Love - Bruce Springsteen

Well tears they fill the rosary, at your feet my temple of bones
Here in this perdition we go on and on
Now I see your pieces crumbled and our book of faith's been tossed
And I'm just down here searching for my own piece of the cross
In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall
I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall

I'll work for your love dear
I'll work for your love
What others may want for free
I'll work for your love

zip + covers here

quick random post & stuff

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:59:12 GMT

1. Yesterday I went to see The Boat That Rocked and omg, what a delicious movie! Why hadn't I heard of it before reading a rec on the newspaper? Why didn't I know something so awesome was coming out? Because seriously, I can't remember having so much good-hearted fun seeing a movie in ages. And the soundtrack was seriously something precious. And the acting was great (and I mean, best part Philip Seymour Hoffman ever got -nod-) and the drama part was really well done even if it still was all deliciously fun and I'm just still high from it. Or maybe a movie about pirate radios broadcasting rock music illegally in the sixties is just my kind of movie. Anyway, the advice is, go see it. ;)

2. Er, god, in the Lost newsletter there was the link for scifibigbang and uuuhm, I'm seriously considering signing up. I mean, I have a ton of ideas for a 25000+ words Lost story and a couple SPN ones that would get to that length without a problem and the deadline is October 31st... but I dunno if I should sign up for such a big deal. Even if it's tempting. And it's four months. Uuuhm. *will think about it*

3. About that, tomorrow I should have some of that fic I owe, if I actually can stick an end on at least two.

4. I also found The Mountain by Steve Earle! I can't actually believe that there was some record of his around which isn't the first, but then again, the price was thirty euros. Seriously. Thankfully I had a discount with that chain and I paid it half the price but still, that's what I call theft. *rolls eyes*

5. There's a referendum on the 21st. And I, seriously, did not get what the fuck I should vote. I didn't manage to understand half of it.

6. Well, I need to lose my virginity with this stuff. Right?

Anyway, short for it, go vote for Misha Collins. ;)

7. Okay, I need more Alison Krauss into my life. Anyone has recs to give me before I just go and d/l the whole discography? ;)

8. Er, I think that's all. I know, I had more exciting posts. This isn't one of them. But to reiterate, go see #1. It totally is worth the price of the ticket.

memes just because + YAY STEVE EARLE + stuff

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 20:37:02 GMT

1. Exam #2 done *phew* now if only I didn't have another three to go one of which in a week... but whatever, I'll manage.

2. Meanwhile I'm taking tomorrow off. And finally catching up with fic, I hope.

3. That said, you know why Steve Earle is one of the most awesome beings on this planet? Because while I'm sure that his sales in this country are nil (or at least not far from that since regularly you can find just his first record and a greatest hits), he still tours here. Two dates for the new tour! And one is in Rome, still low price venue, and one that you can actually reach without taking a taxi! I'm so there, fuck yes. How awesome can he be? ♥

4. Shitload of memes because I need to distract myself, lol. This one tagged by velvetprose.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST/BAND, cleverly answer these questions. ~~Pass it on to 15 people~~ whoever wants to. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think.

Pick Your Artist:
Er. Uh. Difficult. Okay, I'll surprise you all and pick Warren Zevon.

Are you male or female?
A certain girl.

Describe yourself:
Looking for the next best thing.

How do you feel about yourself:
I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Describe where you currently live:
Transverse city.

If you could be anywhere, where would you be:

Your favorite form of transportation:
I need a truck.

Your best friend is:
Roland, the headless Thompson gunner (LOL, sorry, I couldn't resist).

Your favorite color is:
Ain't that pretty at all? (pink, of course)

What's the weather like:
Quite ugly one morning.

Favorite day:
The rest of the night.

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
I was in the house when the house burned down.

What is life to you:
Trouble waiting to happen.

What is the best advice you have to give:
Hit somebody! (LOL, sorry, too good again.)

If you could change your name, what would it be:
Suzie lightening (I mean, it's the only woman name he has in a song title apart from Jeannie, but I'm already a sorta Jeannie).

Your favorite food is:
Raspberry beret.

Thought for the Day:
Stand in the fire (er, okay, this one was thrown there but I couldn't find a fun one).

5. Book meme from wandersfound.

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Uh, Stephen King. How many exactly... uh. *stands up and goes to count* 30.

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Er, I don't usually own more than one copy of one book. I guess the last three of the Dark Tower series since I have them in hardback and paperback.

3) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Secretly? Which doesn't mean Eddie Dean, right? Well, that one is barely a secret. Not going for the obvious ones I always say... uh. With the premise that I always get at least half a crush on one character if I read a book, I'll be a disgusting nerd and say Ivan from the Brothers Karamazov. It's more of I-don't-talk-about-it because I'm the only person I know who read that book, but I had it bad.

4) What book have you read more than any other?
The Diary of Anne Frank probably. My copy is so used up it's not even decent.

5) What was your favorite book when you were 10-years-old?
See point four. I think it was my favorite book until I was twelve or so.

6) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
A book by an Italian writer which translated sounds like The Solitude of Prime Numbers or something. It one a very important award here and everyone was completely nuts about it, then I pick it up and... FSM, what crap. The story got old after three chapters and there wasn't a character I liked except for the protagonist's gay best friend who clearly didn't stand a chance.

7) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
If you count last year as June-from-last-year, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon which is just every possible kind of awesome. This year... duh, probably Good Omens. Or Orwell's essays volume one. Or The Blind Assassin. Or Tropic of Cancer.

8) If you could tell everyone you know to read one book, what would it be?
1984. There's a lot of other stuff I could recommend but it's one of the handful of books I read in my life that completely made start to see the world in a whole other light and I'm very disappointed that in schools here you never get to study it. English or Italian, whatever.

9) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?
Uh, depends. I could say Moby Dick because it took me two years to read it but that was my fault for always stopping at one point and starting again, because when I really put my head into it I finished it in two weeks and it wasn't difficult at all and I loved it. Er, I don't know, probably the Brothers Karamazov. It's not stylistically difficult, but conceptually it's kind of a bitch when it wants to. Not that I didn't love it anyway.

10) Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
FRENCH. Sorry, nothing against the Russians and I like my Dostoevsky book each year, I like Puskin and I liked what Chekhov I read, but... DUMAS ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥, Stendhal, Baudelaire and so on? FRENCH all the way. Not to mention that French as a language slays me. It slays me.

11) Shakespeare, Milton or Chaucer?
Er. Shakespeare. -nod-

12) Austen Or Eliot?
I figure that it means George Eliot and not T.S. Eliot, right?

Well, I hate them both. I couldn't even finish The Mill On The Floss and I gave it up after 350 pages (and I think I threw it across the room at least twice) for how boring it was, but Jane Austen for me is evil. Because, sorry in advance to Austen fans who I think are a lot on my FL, she's insufferable. I can't stand one character in the three novels of hers I've read, my nonexistent feminist pride suddenly starts existing again whenever I think about Emma, she has that style which I know is supposed to be ironic and subtle but just gets on my nerves and I just wish I never spent most of my time when I did English literature in high school doing Jane Austen when there are a ton of more interesting people. Crap, my teacher used to make remarks about my Austen dislike, lol, and they weren't exactly nice. I can only agree with Mark Twain re Jane Austen.

13) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Er, I didn't read Tolstoy. I never attempted Proust, but I should. Or Thomas Mann or a lot of German authors I really should read.

14) What is your favorite novel?
1984 for the above reasons.

BUT, I need to mention The Three Musketeers. ♥ ♥

15) Play?
A Streetcar Named Desire.

16) Poem?
The Waste Land probably. Or if you want a shorter one, an Italian poem which translated would be Death will come and will have your eyes. Wait, it's the last on this page.

17) Essay?
Duh. Probably Why I Write by Orwell, or Shooting An Elephant, or Inside The Whale, or the one in defense of English food. Pick any Orwell and I'll be fine with it.

18) Short story?
Stephen King's The Body. Hell yes.

19) Non-fiction?
Er, oh crap, I read a lot of non-fiction. Is my collection of whatever is left of Epicurus' moral writings worth as non-fiction? Because uh, yes.

20) Graphic novel?
Watchmen, duh. Or the Sandman issues. Not that I read that many because they cost a freaking lot, but still.

21) Memoir?
Well, if you don't count Anne Frank because really, it wasn't even meant to be published, Before Night Falls by Reinaldo Arenas.

22) History?
Do they want historical fiction or non-fiction? Because while I usually am not one for stuff set in like, the Roman Empire, when I was fourteen or so I was completely into a series of books by I think Margaret Doody where there was Aristotles solving crimes in Athens and that's as far as I've gone. Non-fiction, probably a 600-hundred pages thing about the history of the United States which is probably the only one I actually own, too. My father is the one with the history books.

23) Mystery or noir?
If Sherlock Holmes counts, probably The Sign Of The Four. If not, Ten Little Indians.

24) Science fiction?
Slaughterhouse Five if you count it as sci-fi. Otherwise... The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, OF COURSE.

25) Who is your favorite writer?
Uh. Orwell, Dumas, King, Steinbeck, Forster, Stendhal, Chabon, and Emily Bronte. If I had to pick one on purely objective/stylistic reasons, I'd probably pick Steinbeck or Stendhal, but I'm not objective and I'm about plot too.

26) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Er, if I say Stephanie Meyer I'm not original, am I? Or Anne Rice maybe.

27) What are you reading right now?
Uh, er, photocopies re Kant, but that probably doesn't count. Dumas' The Queen Margot and the last Hornby, even if who knows when I'm finishing either.

6. Okay. Lost possible spoilers so I won't say anything and just send you where I saw that video and whatever, but if this REALLY happens next year I'm SO FORGIVING THEM A LOT OF CRAP. I don't really hope much for it, after all Ian is on Vampire Diaries, but if he says that there's a chance that he's back at least once... seriously. Please. I need it to happen. Even if it'd be better if he just moved on for good probably, but my problem isn't only that I like His Prettiness too much, the problem is that I-miss-my-favorite-fucking-character. *hopes*

7. Misha Collins' awesomeness is without-any-fucking-limit. And I don't think I've ever fangirled so badly someone as crazy, but that's just too good of a thing really. I mean. Maybe I shouldn't want to know how he actually did it, but I trust the shining force of his awesomeness.

8. I think I'm really done for now. I'll be answering comments and then I'll probably crash somewhere. *waves*

As Good As You've Been To This World - Dean/Castiel fanmix

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 16:54:58 GMT

Because I obviously have a thing for making fanmixes after exams, or so it seems like. Real entry (or sort of) in a short while after I go buying groceries because the fridge is empty.

Title: As Good As You've Been To This World
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Type: Fanmix
For: nabichansaotome at the Dean/Castiel co-op swap exchange.
Prompt: cheerful/optimistic/loving fanmix.
Notes: Hee. So. These are all the Dean/Cas songs I have on my stuff-eligible-for-fanmixes notebook (yes, I have one) which are sorta happy. And there are two which have lyrics not exactly happy but I guarantee that they are very upbeat in return. ;) Hope you like it! ♥

1. Tell Me Why - Neil Young

Tell me lies later,
come and see me
I'll be around for a while.
I am lonely but you can free me
All in the way that you smile
Tell me why, tell me why

2. The Times You've Come - Jackson Browne

Now everybody's gonna tell you it's not worth it
Everybody's gotta show you their own pain
You might try to find your way up around it
But the need for love will still remain

Now we're lying here
So safe in the ruins of our pleasures
Laughter marks the place where we have fallen
And our lives are near
So it wouldn't occur to us to wonder
Is this the past or the future that is calling

You know I've loved these times you've come.

3. All I Really Want To Do - The Byrds

I ain’t lookin’ to compete with you
Beat or cheat or mistreat you
Simplify you, classify you
Deny, defy, or crucify you
All I really want to do
Is baby be friends with you

No, I ain’t lookin’ to fight with you
Frighten you or tighten you
Drag you down or drain you down
Chain you down or bring you down
All I really want to do
Is baby be friends with you

4. As Good As You've Been To This World - Janis Joplin

As good as you've been to this world.
So good I wanna be right back to you.
As good as you've been now.
As good as you've been to this whole wide world (...)

Good as you've been babe,
'cause I'm just gonna show you now
And I'm just gonna make you want it now.
'cause I 'm just gonna give you a thrill

5. Numb As A Statue - Warren Zevon

I'm numb as a statue
I may have to beg, borrow or steal
Some feelings from you
So I can have some feelings too

I'm pale as a ghost
You know what I love about you
That's what I need the most

6. The Way I Choose - Bad Company

I live my life the way that i choose
I'm satisfied nothing to lose
I dont ask no favor i dont know the reason why
If i dont ask no questions i dont get no lies

Now you give your love tenderly
Every way that you move is closer to me
I dont need nobody to tell me the reason why
If i love only you baby oh no

7. Because The Night - Patti Smith

Have I doubt when I'm alone
Love is a ring, the telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed until the morning comes
Come on now try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand as the sun descends
They can't touch you now,
Can't touch you now, can't touch you now
Because the night belongs to lover

8. Out Of The Darkness - Little Steven

Out of the darkness and hand in hand
Baby together we will make our stand
Reach out and touch me we can win somehow
I know there's nothin' that can stop us now
Oh baby, come with me out of the darkness

I've lived my life trapped with trouble
Now it's time to make a new start
I thought the only justice in this world
Came from an angry heart
Now I know there's got to be love to protect us
But we can't wait for it to come
I know there's more to life than black and white
The sooner we learn, the sooner we've won

9. Would You Lie With Me (In A Field Of Stone) - Johnny Cash

Would you go away to another land?
Walk a thousand miles through the burning sand?
Wipe the blood away from my dying hand,
If I give myself to you?

Will you bathe me with me in the stream of life?
When the moon is full will you bathe with me?
Will you still love me when I'm down and out?
In my time of trial, will you stand by me?

10. Now They'll Sleep - Belly

Now eyes burn circles in the dark,
And when the mirror talks to me,
I listen with my heart
Kind of common cry,
Kind of common living lie
You know the shape my breath will take before I let it out.
Stand like you did when I was beauty-marked in your eyes

11. You're Not Alone - Richie Sambora

You can be a million miles away, I will always love you
You can be a thousand throught always, I'll be thinking of you
No matter where you try to hide, you will always gonna find me
Right where I belong, been here beside you all along
Like some ancient star forever we'll remain,
Even if the sky should ever fall from grace
If I die or fade away, in the end you'll always know
You're not alone (...)

These days the only saviour you can find is something you believe in
Deep inside your heart, you might believe in me

12. Bed Of Roses - Bon Jovi

With an ironclad fist I wake up and French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head while we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and what you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need

I want to lay you on a bed of roses
For tonite I sleep on a bed on nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on bed of roses (...)

Tonite I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend

13. I Want You - Bob Dylan

And the saviors who are fast asleep,
They wait for you
And I wait for them to interrupt
Me drinkin' from my broken cup
And ask me to open up the gate for you.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you

14. Everybody Needs Somebody To Love - The Rolling Stones

Oh, sometimes I feel like
I feel a little sad inside
My baby mistreats me
And I kinda get a little little mad

I need you you you
To see me through, babe
When the sun go down
Ain't nobody else around
That's when I need you baby

15. I Will - The Beatles

And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Oh, you know, I will

16. Patience - Guns n' Roses

Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt you're in my heart now
Said woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience (...)

You and I've got what it takes to make it
We won't fake it, Oh never break it
'Cause I can't take it

17. Thin Air - Pearl Jam

It's not in my past to presume
love can keep on moving in both directions
how to be happy and true is the quest we're taking on together
taking on, on, on, on, on...
there's a light when my baby's in my arms
and i know she's reached my heart, in thin air

18. You're Still Standin' There - Steve Earle and Lucinda Williams

I’ve spent my life following things I cannot see
And just when I catch up to them, they slip away from me
I’ve been down a thousand trails I’ve never walked before
I found out that without fail, they lead me to your door

And the world keep turning round and round
It leaves me hanging in the air
My heart keeps turning upside down
And you’re still standin’ there

Lately I see all the signs, I feel it in the wind
The same thing happens every time that you come back again

19. At Your Most Beautiful - R.E.M.

You always say your name,
Like I wouldn't know it's you,
At your most beautiful

At my most beautiful
I count your eyelashes, secretly
With every one, whisper I love you
I let you sleep
I know you're closed eye watching me,
Listening
I thought I saw a smile

20. Drive All Night - Bruce Springsteen

When I lost you honey sometimes I think I lost my guts too
And I wish God would send me a word
send me something I'm afraid to lose
Lying in the heat of the night like prisoners all our lives
I get shivers down my spine and all I wanna do is hold you tight

There's machines and there's fire waiting on the edge of town
They're out there for hire but baby they can't hurt us now
Cause you've got, you've got, you've got,
you've got my love, you've got my love
Through the wind, through the rain, the snow, the wind, the rain
You've got, you've got my, my love, heart and soul

whole zip with covers here

two supernatural long-ish ficlets, both sorta Dean/Castiel/Jimmy

Wed, 10 Jun 2009 12:10:59 GMT

Okay, this is me trying to re-post the kink memes stuff. Thankfully I only have these two and another couple and then at least I'm clean on that side. Sorry for the spamming. And I swear I'll actually post the fic I owe one of these days. (Right, maybe after Friday.) Blame this stuff on my utter, hopeless Jimmy Novak crush. *gets back to studying*

Title: When One Plus One Equals Three
Rating: light R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel/Jimmy, sort of
Words: 810
Summary: Jimmy craves it because while with Amelia it always was the first case and never the second, what they have is everything he doesn't and won't probably have anymore, and they have it only because of him; knowing this makes him feel strange, almost dizzy, because while he's technically powerless, he really is not.
Spoilers: up to 4x22. Speculation after that.
Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: written for the Supernatural kink meme for the prompt Dean/Castiel/Jimmy (sorta)-Jimmy is "awake" while Dean and Cas are intimate but is trapped inside his body so can't speak or move..

What's crazy, is that Castiel actually asked him permission and what's even crazier is that Jimmy said yes. Fine, there was no sense saying no, after all he was the one giving Castiel his body out of free will of sorts, so it kind of went unsaid that Castiel could do whatever he wanted with it; also, since Castiel was back, Jimmy is there a lot more, like Castiel actually doesn't want him shut out and he feels everything that goes through Castiel's head. If you can call it like that.

So Jimmy knows. Jimmy knows exactly what Castiel feels for Dean, actually he knew before Castiel did because hey, Jimmy is the human one in there and he can recognize emotions, thank you very much. Jimmy had felt Castiel's utter desperation when Dean had said they were done, he had felt the guilt, he had felt his internal conflict, he had felt everything; now they're all on the run, Dean, Sam, Chuck and them, and things are so fragile and the end is so near that when it came up that Dean actually reciprocated Castiel's feelings too... well, saying no when Castiel asked would have been plainly cruel. It's not like Jimmy has much hope of happiness for himself again, but he never was a vindicative man nor what Dean would call a bastard son of a bitch and if he can't have it, he won't deny it to others if it's in his power.

(And that's pretty much the only thing that is in his power, these days.)

And then, then, after the first time, Jimmy realized that he needs it too even if he really isn't a part of the equation. Jimmy is a mean from Castiel to Dean and vice versa, but he doesn't really play any other part. He feels what Castiel feels even if it's not as intense and Christ, he will never get adjusted to be there inside his own body and be able to just watch while someone else controls it in his place.

But it doesn't matter because pitiful as it might sound, Jimmy craves it. He craves that moment every evening when the sun sets for what might be the last time and Dean turns off the light; he craves it both when Dean and Castiel take things slow, touching each other with a reverence on both sides which Jimmy would have imagined in Castiel's case but not in Dean's. He craves it when they kiss without hurry, he craves it when they undress each other and Dean trails kisses all over Castiel's shoulders, he craves it when Castiel is inside Dean and holds Dean's hips like he's made of some precious glass, he craves it when Dean looks up at Castiel (at them) with those eyes that say every word his mouth won't pronounce. This usually happens when it was a decent day.

He craves it when the day, on the contrary, is filled with blood and black smoke and the second they are into whatever room they find the clothes get almost ripped off, there's no time for sweet talk, they kiss so hard that blood is drawn and then Dean fucks Castiel (them) with such an intensity that Jimmy has blacked out more than once.

Jimmy craves it because while with Amelia it always was the first case and never the second, what they have is everything he doesn't and won't probably have anymore, and they have it only because of him; knowing this makes him feel strange, almost dizzy, because while he's technically powerless, he really is not. Even if the world becomes a worse place with every day that passes and they still don't have a plan to stop its ending, when the door closes Dean and Castiel are... happy, or sort of, or as close to happy as one might be in these circumstances, and Jimmy knows how miserable Castiel had been before. More or less since he came back until Dean kissed him for the first time.

They have this and it makes them strong, it gives them what they need, it saves them from a good deal of misery; but Jimmy is the only reason it can happen, and that's why sometimes he allows himself to blank out just a bit and imagine that the hands cradling his face are Amelia's even if they are wider and rougher; some other times, when Castiel's feelings are so overwhelming that he can barely keep them in check, Jimmy is there, goes with it, blanks out and pretends they're his, too; all the times, he's there. After all, it didn't take much to find out how easy it was to pretend that he's an active part in all of this, but he needs those sparse glimpses of happiness for himself too much to care.

End.

Title: Just Fair
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Jimmy
Words: 1332
Summary: So this is how it goes. Dean gets laid each night by two different people who own the same body; and the weirdest thing is that it doesn't feel even remotely the same.
Spoilers: up until 4x22.
Disclaimer: not really mine.
A/N: written for the Dean/Castiel kink meme for the prompt Castiel is on the run (riding around with the Winchesters) so he still needs Jimmy as a vessel so they alternate between who's consciously present.

It's just fair to Jimmy, Dean thinks, but it doesn't mean that this isn't a whole new level of freaking weird, and it's no euphemism.

Thing is, Cas did manage to escape the Archangels somewhat, but then it automatically meant that he'd stick with them. And that was fine, really; he had dared Sam to object, but it hadn't been necessary. Dean figured that seeing how things were, if Sam had in front of his eyes a real proof that there was at least one angel that was like the ones Sam had spent years praying to, it couldn't really mean anything bad. And it was probably why Sam didn't put up one single objection. That wasn't a new level of weird at all.

--

It, on the whole, had started when Castiel took him aside one day and told him that from then on he would split with Jimmy equally.

Dean had blinked.

Castiel had shrugged and said that at the beginning, he had assumed that after averting the Apocalypse he would leave and let Jimmy return to his life; this obviously wasn't going to happen any time soon and since by that point he felt too and the both of them were sort of connected, he really didn't feel like it was fair that Jimmy had to always stay back. Of course, if there was the need to fight, Castiel would have come forward at once, but they had talked and agreed on twelve-hour spans.

Dean hadn't been that enthusiast, but Castiel's reasoning hardly had faults. Dean had liked the poor bastard back then and he figured that twelve hours of consciousness each day were the least they owed him. So he had said fine and then Castiel had nodded and blinked and Jimmy had been there instead, staring at his fingers like he couldn't believe he could actually move them.

And since it wasn't like Lucifer had done a single thing since his rise and it sounded like Apocalypse wasn't starting just now, Dean just took the guy's wrist, brought him to the nearest open diner he found, gave him twenty bucks and said he could knock himself out. Jimmy had looked at him in sheer gratitude and Dean barely drank some water as he watched him eat.

--

It, part one, started a week later or so, when he and Castiel were talking about something he can't remember, and then suddenly he had sort of finally really told Cas exactly how thankful he was and maybe he shouldn't have done it, and then Castiel had said nonsense, he had chosen it and it was enough, and it had ended with Castiel kissing him on impulse, Dean not even thinking about stopping, some sparse sentences which did contain the word love even if he can't remember who said it first and Sam looking pretty much like the incarnation of embarrassment the day after. Thankfully he had had a room for himself that evening.

--

It, part two, had started two days later when Jimmy was Jimmy and Dean was sharing with him because there still was tension between the guy and Sam even when Dean was present and having them sharing a room wasn't that bright of an idea. Dean had sort of meant to apologize about blatantly using Jimmy's body, but Jimmy had just shrugged and said that he already gave Castiel permission and he really couldn't afford to be picky.

Dean had asked what it meant, Jimmy had said something like 'try to be the one without control over his body for a year, and let's just not talk about feeling what Castiel felt for the last month'; then Jimmy had just stood up and kissed Dean senseless. It lasted maybe ten seconds; he apologized as he abruptly parted and he said that he was sorry but it had been so much time and he didn't have the right, and that was when the whole new level of weird had started. Because Jimmy was still blathering when Dean had brought a hand on his cheek and then there was silence. Dean had spoken first.

"Don't... I mean, seriously, man, you really got the short straw here."

Jimmy had been about to say something but then had gone into a sort of half-trance for maybe a minute. That was when the whole new level of freak had become even weirder.

"He... Castiel said that... it'd be alright."

"He what?"

"Literally, I need this and he doesn't mind and... well, something that stays between him and me. Sorry. But... you don't have to. I'm not him."

Dean should have said fuck this to everything, but he hadn't.

"I know," he had answered instead, and then had kissed Jimmy because well, he probably wasn't even realizing it but his eyes were just pleading and Dean really wanted to make things better if he could someway.

Sam had been way, way more embarrassed the morning after.

--

So this is how it goes. Dean gets laid each night by two different people who own the same body; and the weirdest thing is that it doesn't feel even remotely the same.

Castiel always touches him reverently, almost like he's a piece of precious glass, and it always makes Dean's heart lose beats because barely touching is too much sometimes; they kiss slowly, with Dean taking his time to map every inch of Castiel's mouth with his tongue. They spend time just touching each other or holding each other or kissing before actually doing it and Castiel is impossibly slow and careful when he's thrusting into Dean and Dean's hips match his pace evenly. It doesn't even feel like merely having sex; when Dean comes with Castiel's name on his lips it always feels like some fucking extra-sensory experience, and when it's over he only feels bliss pulsing through his veins as he wraps his arms around Castiel's waist. Castiel does this like it the bare fact that he's able to do it is a gift, and for Dean it's the same.

Jimmy, though, Jimmy doesn't really treat him as any kind of gift. Jimmy treats him like this is the worst year of his life and Dean's body is the only place where he can forget it. He needs, almost craves it even; his hands always roam over Dean's body like they can't get enough of touching him everywhere, he kisses Dean so hard that it almost bruises and more than once he actually drew blood by kissing only (and Dean won't ever forget how hard Jimmy had shuddered that time). He doesn't lose time in preliminaries, he barely talks and when he does his voice is higher and more desperate and curses a lot, lot more; he fucks Dean hard and fast and desperately and Dean usually can't help staring at him whenever he comes, when his face is contorted into an expression which is a mixture between tormented and blissed out. Which is understandable, he probably wishes this was with his wife, but still, it doesn't matter and whenever Dean wraps his arm around Jimmy's waist he curls into the touch like it's some kind of drug.

And what's fun, is that Dean knows perfectly that he's everything that's left to the both of them and he lives in the fear of letting them down too, and let's just not bring Sam into the equation.

He wonders what goes on in their head most of the times. He wonders if one day they'll be together as they do this. He won't ever ask, that's for sure.

He only knows that it doesn't feel like he'd betraying Cas or like it's a pity fuck when he's with Jimmy, and that he doesn't wonder anymore if being with Cas hurts Jimmy somewhat. And it's all very, very confusing, but on top of it all, he also gave up on sorting this out. After all, it's fair. Who cares about the rest.

End.

birthday!

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 12:45:11 GMT

Joyeux anniversaire gottalovev!

Right, that was pretty much the extent of all the French I can come up with right now so you get the rest in English. ;) I hope you have a great day and an awesome year! ♥ And if you want to prompt me with anything I'll be glad to give it a shot, even if it'll be probably this weekend or something. Happy birthday again! ♥