Mar. 3rd, 2017 01:46 pm
citrusjava: (Default)
If you feel like it, Ask me my Top 5 anything, and I will probably say "well maybe not the TOP five but here's some babbling! :)

From [ profile] kalliel
citrusjava: (Default)
Mostly I did! Was nice! I liked that they came back from hiatus with 19 minutes of the two main characters having zero lines. Skills.

Liked the different reactions from the boys, getting their food.

Liked the fic potential - first time seeing, touching, hearing - each other, sunlight, moving air. humans, the world.

Liked that the obvious and gross plot in which Mary kills herself did NOT HAPPEN.

Liked Cas' protectiveness in the end, I could identify with his - what I perceived as - loneliness, desperation, and just this notion of "this tiny little piece of the world, I'm gonna do what it takes to protect it, come hell or high water, last stand".

Could have done with less heavy handed writing - and aww, it is so so bad to lose Billie.... I adored her, such missed potential!

Liked the bit of exploration of class/hierarchy
been wanting more of that (in general, and re MoL - ) since Henry.

citrusjava: (Default)
[ableism, classicism, academia, mention of sevese sexual assault ] )

It turns out my pretty little accessible(ish) conference - wasn't - and at this point I honesty need a reality check.
I'd appreciate your input, especially if these topics are part of your lives.

Before the lest panel, a women approached one of the organizers and told her she can't understand a thing because of the academic language. The organizer, who happened to be presenting her paper next, told her she'd make an effort to speak more clearly. (seems like shedid)

But then the person closing the conference - for reasons no one seems to understand - went off topic three times to address this (or was it a coincidence....??) - In her discussion of academia being hegemonic and classicist, she stopped three times to say that it's ok if people don't understand what you say in an academic convention because that's the way academia works, to condescendingly explain to the audience how to look things up if they do not understand, and to directly say accessibility is not that important.

The person from the audience approached her, later, and they got into an argument. The other organizer, the one who changed her presentation earlier, tried to mediate, and got.... ironic!organizer to apologize, (so sincerely she spent a lot of the ride home lecturing people about how right she was). The person from the audience told her she didn't owe her to accept her apology, and left, hurt and angry.

And additionally, it turned out

she is living at a temporary hostel for victims of human trafficking/continuous sexual assault/idk, and one of the advisors (?) there did or did not suggest our conference as a nice good experience. (the advisor said she didn't idk0)

For me - the only way that makes sense to deal with this (since I only found out about it too late) - is - find this woman, apologize yes-sincerely and validate that this was not ok - and try to find out whether there is anything we could do to make it less icky

Some suggestions from talking with some of the organizers - we could meet and talk about it; if the topic of the conference interests her, she is welcome to join our research group (that would be such a delight for her with the person who treated her badly there,right); if she's still interested in the papers presented at the conference, some of us could give them again, better, at the hostel or for her and some of her friends (surely her dearest desire is to listen to MORE from us all); she could come give us a lecture ( for whatever woefully low fee we collect between us, or whatever I'll pay her fight me).


talked with some of the organizers - not even Ironic!one, and every one of them's been telling me I'm overreacting, this isn't ableist or classicist and isn't a microaggression, every convention involves someone getting upseet -
and of course - that woman
was ANGRY and RUDE and we can't condone that by apologizing.

I feel so disheartened and confused, like I should be embarrassed for believing this should be fixed and thoroughly, rather than for the things done
citrusjava: (Default)
If you haven't, please PLEASE back up your journal - it's so much of our culture's history that would be erased if it happens! It only takes a few minutes to do. If you want, I'll do it for you (you'll need to give me your password, but then you can just change it if you're uncomfortable)
But really, it's only a few minutes.

ETA:It's really simple, DW just has a page for that -
1) Log in to DW
2) click the link in the first line
3) you'll get a form with clicky boxes for what you'd like to back up (everything!). Fill the form, go read fic.

If you're having trouble logging into an old DW account - maybe just open a new one? The combined time of opening a new account and backing up my journal maybe took about ten minutes....
(of course, then I stayed there messing with it, which took about the same time with no necessity)

[mention of kinkshaming and politics ahead]

OK - this is important and I mean it -
you lovely people into water sports getting second-hand kinkshamed because of that horrible white man - YOU DON'T DESERVE IT, and I am so sorry you're getting this, and you are lovely!
citrusjava: (Default)
Signed up for this - you might want to sign up too!
Many worthyy organizations - trans rights, Standing Rocks, stopping police brutality, fighting for immigrant, etc

The auction will only start in a few days, so now it's a call for artists, podficcers, betas, vidders, and writers !
citrusjava: (Default)
So, I'm not that good with knowing about current events - but I'd really want to at least do something....
Is there something going on? Would people be interested, if not? If so - what sort of thing might you participate in?

I'm wondering about maybe a multifandom fanwork auction, but idk! What do you think?

As long as I'm posting - in case someone wants to and is able help
citrusjava: (Default)
I just wanted to share this, because it was meaningful for me.

Some personal and sad things (may be squee harshing) )

Wish You Were Here

ETA: so, I posted this and it disappeared. If it was not eaten by LJ but accidentally posted to a community or something, please tell me so I can delete it from there....
citrusjava: (Default)
Title: Wish You Were Here
Gifter: [ profile] citrusjava
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Sam
Word count: 3000
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Pining. Dub-con. Ableist notions. Background mentions of spoilers up to 12x07, rape, torture, self harm, self sacrifice. Mentions of canon character death, mourning.
Fic-spoiling warning: hurt no comfort. Be warned.
A/N: Beta by the awesome [ profile] tipsykitty, who was so wonderful, kind and encouraging, who made things much better. Any remaining mistakes are just mine!
A/N: side note about my writing experience

A/N2: This is for [ profile] amypond45, who asked for Winchester angst, as part of [ profile] spn_j2_xmas. I really hope you enjoy it, and have a wonderful winter!

Summary: Dean hasn’t died, not permanently. Still right there at the Bunker.

Wish You Were Here

For Sam, it was always Dean. )
citrusjava: (Default)

Lets bring something good into the world. Let's hold hands, if only virtually, and not be alone in this. Let's reaffirm that we care about each other, and we don't stand for bigotry. Let's write (and draw and record and stuff).

Prompts are open for anything - any or no ships, any or no kinks, go for it.

Extra cookies if your prompt negates some bigoted concept, we could give love in places it's particularly lacking right now. We can reaffirm that we all have a place here, that we stand with each other. Women, POC, survivors, immigrants, disabled people, fat people, MOGAI people, poor people, etc - especially anyone that's more than one of those things - deserve some extra love, today and in general.... But prompts don't have to do that - anything comforting is welcome, and different things comfort different people! Fun, fluffy, funny, porny, angry, dark, it's ok!

Breadline by [ profile] toratio, Sam&Dean, money issues
Sam/Dean, body autonomy, lived experience of mi, by anon
It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine) by [ profile] toratio Domestic end of the world!
In the Bones by laughablelament, aer leaving the bunker with John's journal, Mary ends up using it as a roadmap

(ETA: !!!! I am so excited and comforted by you being here and caring and by your generousity! Ahh! I has only been a few hours and already we have fills! Thank you!!!! And that you to the people sharing this - you are awesome!!!!)

How this works:
How to prompt: Leave a comment with a prompt, preferably with some basic information in the subject line (ship/gen/character, kink, genre - whatever works for you). You can leave as many prompts as you like.

How to fill: Comment to any prompt you like with fic, art, podfic, playlists, gifsets - any form of fanwork is welcome. Feel free to fill prompts that were already filled. If you feel like leaving anon fills, go for it! If you feel like leaving cute little 'created in ten minutes' fills for fun - those are welcome too!

1) Be kind.
2) No spoilers for unaired episodes without a cut/link, please.
3) Use content warnings generously, please. It only takes a moment, and can make the difference between brightening someone's day and making it horrible. We've got enough horrible.
4) Anything promoting bigotry should not be included. If you're not sure, you're welcome to ask me, we can try to figure it out together. If something bothers you - same thing. Sometimes things can be bigoted without bad intent, we'll try to navigate this with compassion if it happens here now. Most things are ok if you clearly warn for them.

Tell the world!

Reblog on Tumblr

citrusjava: (Default)
So, I've been living in a hellish existence, preeeetty much - of course, it might get worse still, so - and i definitely need someone to raise me from perdition (but only in good ways for me, --ugh).



But there is a new season ffs

Gotta be on LJ!

What are you all up to?
What is fandom doing these days, too?
Miss you!... ..
citrusjava: (Default)
there was something very triggery on lj -
so just - needed to go into "ball form"....

now - tw )

Heads Up!

Jun. 11th, 2016 09:30 pm
citrusjava: (Default)
Misha and some other spn people (?) re doing a scavenger hunt type thing on Tumblr now (and later), for cool SPN swag
citrusjava: (Default)
Oh, ugh.... so the topic of my third conference thingy is not my thesis, but another research.
And I invited my advisor because she's awesome an I like her, idk?
But now a friend more versed in the ways of academia says that might be offensive for her, and I am feeling like a cheating cheater who cheats.
ffs, how do people KNOW this stuff? How do I learn this stuff? :(
Am I not SUPPOSED to be doing this stuff? Realquestion....

Also I'm feeling like I have the flu, but that is a different story
citrusjava: (Default)
[ profile] kalliel[Bad username or site: @]! Remember the whole discussion about Jared somehow always being to Jensen's right? Or was that Dean/Sam?
There's new evidence!
m 01:00

citrusjava: (Default)
anyone up to wars, or general companionship as we work?
citrusjava: (Default)
Title: Took my chances on a big jet place
Pairing: >Dean & Sam
Words: 850
Warnings: recreational drug and alcohol use, brief mention of sex work
Spoilers: small spoiler for 11x19

It was probably oregano anyway

Dean feels around the cooler for his last beer. It's warm and damp, but it's not like he's wearing a top hat either. Tried to get all the dust and mud off his clothes before touching Baby, but even stripped half naked he's dragging some forest onto her leather. He pats the seat, swipes the filth away with a gentle thumb. Gonna give her a nice tuneup when they're outta there, he promises her, himself.

Five days he hasn't seen a living soul, or a dead one for that matter, trail's cold, and he's getting twitchy in all that nothin. Dad's in Colorado, looking into reports of localizes hurricanes, coming out of nowhere, going nowhere, plenty of eyewitnesses but no blip on the meteorological radar. Dean hasn't heard from him since he left. Tells himself it's the reception in the forest, but he knows it's crystal.

He thumbs the phone, good five bars of reception.

Drinks his beer.

He could step right out of the world, no blip. He might not even notice if he did.

Calls information, asks for the number of one Robert Singer. Listens to his voice, unsure for a moment, that he still knows how to talk with anyone. There is a lot of empty in the forest.

Information hangs up. Shoulda kept the number of the girl with the cowboy boots from the bar last year. Or the chat line card someone stuck on his windshield wiper.

He's asleep by the time his phone rings. The tinny cellphone notes of Brown Eyed Girl. Hasn't played it in almost two years, and Dean's heart is beating hard before he's awake, before he registers the sound.

"Sammy? You ok?"

"Dean?" The voice sounds small and distant.

There's some rustling, then Sam swallows.

"What's going on?"

"Dean, did you ever- The parties you went to, did you never- The girls you-"

Dean's mind is racing. Halloween haunted house come to life? College succubus? Pregnant college succubus?"

"Sam, spit it out!"

Sam's voice goes meeker. "Did you ever try-"

Orgies? A girl's underwear on?

"Did you ever try smoking?"

Dean sputters. "Sammy!"

"Like - weed?"

"You smoke now?" California takes Dean's geek baby brother, it should have the decency to give him back the way it got him.

"Dean" Sam's voice is part way between annoyed and pleading. "I don't know if - if it feels right".

"What's it feel like?"

"I just - I - I - wanna puke and throw up, and" Sam's breathing gets sharp, and Dean can't hear if it's fear or tears. Dean knows shit about getting high, but he knows his brother, and he knows his Mick Jagger Mars Bar lore.

"Listen, Sammy, you got anything with sugar on you?"

"No, but it's fine, Dean, I'm fine".

"the hell you are. Listen, Sammy" Dean does Dad voice, like there's no doubt in the world. "You're stoned, you're paranoid, that's all. You don't gotta fight it, you're golden. All you gotta do is ride this out. Will be over in an hour".

Sam swallows. "What if it was - you know, what if there was something in it?"

Dean's thinking about the same lines, but that's not comin out of his mouth. "Dude, you're not in Em City, you're in college, it was probably overpriced oregano. You jonesing for pizza?"

Sam snorts, but he's still breathing wrong. "Dean, there was - in the paper - about someone like you, missing and I know it wasn't you because - but his picture looked a little - and I started thinking what if you or Dad - and I - you are missing and I - this guy Don had a joint and I - I just didn't want to think about it"

"Woah, woah, Sammy" Dean says, quiet. "Didn't go missing". I didn't go missing. "'m right here, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know" Sam tries to sound grown up, and only misses by a few years. Like Dean's voice sounded in his ears when that spirit had Dean by the throat, and Dad was bleeding out - grown up and messed up and scared. "Just you're not here, and I just, I didn't want - if something wasn't gonna be ok with you - or - me - I didn't want to never - just wanted to I wanted to-"

"'s alright"

Sam's breathing a bit better now, and Dean's chest unclenches. "So what, you're embracing the ways of the locals? Flowers in your hair?"

Dean can hear the weak smile in Sam's voice. "You'd love it. They put broccoli on their pizza".

Dean makes the expected a disgusted voice, like it's a normal conversation, like they still know how to talk with each other proper.

"It's better than fried spam for breakfast".

"It's good enough for Commander Sheers, it's good enough for me".

"Commander Sheers never ate fried spam".

"You're high".

Sam laughs.

Dean tries for more.

"Little Sammy, a space cowboy, riding shotgun on the Great Red Shark!"

"You're such an ass" Sam's voice is warm, and he sounds ok, sounds regular.

"Rock on gold dust woman! Don’t Step on the Grass, Sam"

"Dean" Sam asks, like there's too much space in his world too, too many miles of room.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Stay on the phone with me till the hour's over?"

"Sure, kid".
citrusjava: (Default)
השכנות התחילו לשבת עם הילדים שלהן ממש מחוץ לחלון שלי. אחת מהן אומרת הרבה שהיא לא מפריעה לאף אחד, וצוחקת שוב ושוב צחוק גדול ומזוייף. בא לי להתכופף מהחלון ולצרוח "שקט בין שתיים לארבע", אשלייה של קהילה. מעניין אם בתל אביב הקטנה היו סטודנטיות עייפות ומרוטות עצבים.

אני מצמידה את הלפטופ אלי, ומנסה לא לקרוא הרבה מדי בפייסבוק, לא היום. כולן עושות את המתכונים של סבתות שלהן שמתו ואני לא יכול-ה לשאת את זה ככה.... וגם פרינס מת וכו'.... וטריגרים.

תמיד היה לי בימי שישי אמריקן אידול לפחות. עכשיו זה בוטל. אפילו לא אהבתי את זה בהתחלה, סתם מכרה שלי כל כך התלהבה מזה שרציתי להצטרף. היא מזמן כבר הפסיקה לצפות, ורק אני נשארתי להצטער שזה בוטל.

בחוץ ציפורים, רהיטים זזים בתקרה מעלי, אנשים יוצאים לסדר, להורי, אוספים ילדים קטנים, האב שתמיד צועק על כולם לחוץ על המפתחות, אחת השכנות מחפשת משקפי שמש.
citrusjava: (Default)
Title: Sam and Dean's Ghostly Adventures
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13?
Words: 705
Warnings and tags: Show level violence/hurt, casefic sort of, crack, unbetaed, poor research on my part

Summary: Sam fights ghosts to save Dean

"Dean!" Sam screamed as the ghost slammed his brother against the wall.

"Behind you!" Dean called, a flash of bloody teeth. Sam ducked and rolled out of the way, just missing the killing touch of another ghost. Fuck, fuck. There were now two on him, three. A pac.

Sam dashed through the dark house's angled corridors, frantically searching. They stepped right into it, no investigation, no EMF reader - the second they were inside the house, they wre running for their lives.

The entire house was thrumming with sirens, Sam couldn't say whether they were intended to warn them or against them. All he could see was Dean's face, Dean being erased from existence, done.

Nothing worked against these ghosts. As Sam ran - a flicker of memory, maybe something Dad said when they were kids, said to Dean - - the ghosts are tied to orbs. Nothing would work, no salt, no iron - nothing unless he managed to find the orb.

Behind him he could hea r furniture crashing, the thud of a body - hitting the floor, flesh, reverberating through Sam's legs. Knee against the floor, then the body. Sam wished, not for the first time he'd never gotten clean. Not if the price was losing Dean again. Not again. Couldn't live through that again, not again. Wouldn't get a dog next time, wouldn't ever stop.

He put the bitterness into running, the desperation. He was a tiny bit faster than the ghosts, and that margin was the only hope he and Dean had. Sam took a sharp turn at a run - to find himself in a small passage - and from its other side, was approaching a ghost. There was nowhere to run, nothing left.

Then Sam realized, between him and the other side of the passage, there it was - a glowing round orb. If only he could reach it before the ghosts touched him, he could buy them some time. Could buy Dean some time to run outside - but Dean wouldn't, not unless Sam was there to make him.

Sam flung himself at the orb and crashed into the approaching ghost midair. The orb was gone. In a moment suspended in time, world took a breath, and the ghost exploded and shriveled into nothing but its burning eyes. Sam rounded on the ghosts behind him, perusing them down the corridors, back to Dean. The ghosts fled before Sam, frozen to Sam's touch and melting under it. Sam would have been terrified at his power had it not been for the ache in his chest, Dean -

The power of the orb was pulsing through him, he could hear his own steps remaking the house on his way to Dean.

Something in this new knowledge made Sam stop in his track. Something - in the house. He would need something.

Wouldn't be able to help Dean without it.

A space opened up before him, the way they walked in, but different. And casually set there, waiting - the gift of life. Small red fruit in the dark light.

Maybe ghost fruit. It could be a mistake. But could also be the only thing that could help.

Sam grabbed it and sprinted to Dean, back to Dean.

Vanquished the last ghost, pulling it off of Dean without thought. "Dean! Dean" Sam grabbed for a pulse, a gleam of recognition in Dean's eyes.

Dean's body was pliable, warm in Sam's arms, but here was no reaction, no echo of Sam's erratic breaths.

"Dean, please, Dean" Sam was whispering, "please".


Sam pushed the fruit between Dean's lips, its skin breaking against Dean's teeth, red. A breeze rose around them, sun-ripened tart and sweet, sticky hands at the back seat, Dean's lips at night in summer. The tips of Sam's fingers at the dip of Dean's neck as Dean's eyes blinked back, wide, and Dean's heart was beating again.

"Sammy", Dean looked up at him, bare to the quick, then Dean was smiling, "Sammy", he was removing the cherry pit from his lips, "You know I can tie a knot in one of these babies with only my tongue?"

"Dean", Sam was on him, damp faces soft under stubble, under rifts and years, fruit lingering on their tongues, between their grins.

"Thanks for giving me your cherry, Sammy" Dean was mumbling into Sam's hair.

Why couldn't it have been a watermelon.

Notes: I don't know why Pacman. I'm sad, wanted to write something silly. Also it turns out that while (probably?) the version I played for research gave me an extra life for that cherry, it changes from version to version and that is not even an official possibility? so - yeah, sorry to purists.


citrusjava: (Default)

March 2017

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