brosedshield: (tea then larceny)
Let's Play the Drunk-and-Miserable Game )

* * *

This poem comes from when I was a good deal more sad and lonely in Spain than I am now. And also from the fact that there is no good way to talk about drinking alone that doesn't come off as depressing (I don't like going outside my house, and then becoming intoxicated around strangers whose language I'm not even 95% effective in; why is that more socially acceptable than having a few glasses of wine in one's apartment? SEE, EVEN THERE, IT LOOKS DEPRESSING.)

Apparently, I was planning to make this into a song. Hmmm, now where did that melody go...
brosedshield: (happily ever after)
Title: In His Sleevies
Disclaimer: If anyone owns anything in this relationship, Supernatural owns my heart. And won't give it back. And won't pay me for it.
Characters/Pairing:
Sam/Dean
Rating:
PG
Word count:
1225
Spoilers:
preseries
Summary:
“If you make another ‘humerus’ joke, so help me I’m going to break your jaw."
Author notes:
Fic is based on a bit of dream from this morning. In my waking hours, I've got a mild incest squick, but apparently my subconscious thinks Sam and Dean are sweet...which they are...garh. Thanks always to excellent beta, fandom obsession buddy and best friend [info]lavinialavender. This fic isn't so much FOR her as it's ALL HER FAULT.

* * *

Dean refuses to take the blame for Sam’s broken arm... )
brosedshield: (carnival watches you)
An original poem about what I often want in a good book. Or a fanfic. Or a poem. 

I don't want my book to make me think; I want it to make me BLEED... )
brosedshield: (Default)
Title: We All Sleep Alone
Disclaimer: If anyone owns anything in this relationship, Supernatural owns my heart. And won't give it back. And won't pay me for it.
Characters/Pairings:
Sam/Jess, Dean/ofc
Warnings:
loneliness
Rating:
PG (for language)
Word count:
1432
Spoilers:
none, Stanford Era
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender read it, but then life ate her, so I did the final grammar check. Remaining fail is mine.
Summary:
You’ve got to be strong when you’re out on your own, but sooner or later we all sleep alone.
Author notes #2: Usually, I SWEAR, I don’t combine Cher and Supernatural in my head. The styles just don’t fit. But every time I hear this song I see the boys missing each other. Possibly it’s the closet Wincest fan in my that says they are always alone if they’re not with each other. This was eventually going to be an Apo-verse fic (for some reason, ANYTHING goes in the Apo-verse, possibly it’s the deer!Impala) and a version may be in that verse some day, but this just came out gen.
Author Note #2: Even as I post this, I don't think I quite nailed what I wanted to say, but I was sick of having it floating around, almost done, in Gdocs. Fic is fic, yeah?

Sooner or later we all sleep alone... )
brosedshield: (bright white flower)
Lifted from a Gchat convo with (who else?) [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender :

Me: Religion should whisper and seduce, and folk should fall for it because it's the thing that feels so damn good you can't stop doing it...which, may, be why I also write porn...


brosedshield: (bright white flower)
 A medieval porn-slanted grammar lesson, pretty much lifted from a comment discussion with [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender who is my grammar guru and beta goddess.

It's here now because I want to be able to find it quickly, because you NEVER KNOW when appropriate formal pronouns will become important.
Thou, Thee, Thy, Thine )
Lavinia, is you used as the plural subjective? I read that somewhere...Give me a phrase and I'll add it in. *grin* Let it be a menage! A menage of any number you desire! Menage a huit!
brosedshield: (fine arts and gun club)
PREFERENCE
    ~pre-series, PG, more-or-less shipless, one gratuitous lit reference

The Winchesters prefer... )

* * *
This poem in no way, shape or form supports Bartleby, the Scrivener, a novella by Herman Melville. But, linkage is provided so you can get the reference, too. Though I completely understand if you prefer not to. :P

brosedshield: (kaffery)
So, a couple days ago I was in a car going to Munich and had a lot of time to think. I was writing, too, not FC, unfortunately, but Shield City, an old, yet ongoing story that stumbles and wallows in its own details and the fact that I started it AGES ago. Certain things that were Canon and Truth when I was 13 are simply not true any more. Like, you know, the PLOT.

Anyway, I was scribbling, trying AGAIN to figure out what was going on (I'm attacking the Original Story again, though maybe after writing Freak Camp I'll have gained the skills to write about Halex Doversigh without getting hopelessly depressed) when I realized that one of my secondary characters, Haraan Demonrider (aka Shaman Emeritus of Windgrass Clan, aka Shane Rider's grandfather) is a chaotic, amusing, trickster pain-in-the-ass (think The Trickster, SPN style) crossed with a religious bigot. Or possibly Jeremiah of the Old Testament merged with Firesong from the Valdemar books by Mercedes Lackey.

I've always really liked Haraan (or, as I tend to think of him, "Shane's Grandfather") but he makes 98% of people he meets nervous, pissed off, or both.  And, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure who the 2% are, or in what situations he meets them. He's going to be a bit more difficult to write than I originally suspected. Or maybe a bit more fun.
brosedshield: (tea then larceny)
Debouch
   transitive verb: to cause to emerge; discharge
   intransitive verb: 1. to march into open ground "troops debouching from town";
                               2. emerge, issue "rivers debouching into the sea"

Not to be confused with...

Debauch
   1. (archaic) to make disloyal; to seduce from chastity
   2. to lead away from virtue or excellence; to corrupt by intemperance or sensuality


Note: now my brain wants to create a pun. A complex, dirty pun that will make no sense to anyone but someone who has read these exact definitions. There's something about "cause to emerge, discharge".... Alas, the heart is willing, but the brain is lethargic (and the rest of me is grateful that I checked the spelling that one time, or this would have been so wrong).
brosedshield: (Default)
(Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday) (Wednesday)!!

 Creating an outline with [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender can be fun. :-P

wheeeee!

Mar. 8th, 2011 12:17 pm
brosedshield: (im a tiger!)
I figured out icons!

LET ME SAY that I realize that the system is completely user friends and logical and  easy and all things like this.

Doesn't mean it doesn't make me ridiculously happy when it WORKS.

Also, because I adore this icon. It hits all my cute buttons. Thank you [livejournal.com profile] yenneffer , from whom I lifted it! 

I'm a tiger!...I cliiiiiiiimb.
brosedshield: (Default)
 My brain is spinning pointlessly this week, but I made soup. Let's hope that lentils cure the blues.

In other news, let me share with you the first three lines of a Spanish book for three year olds titled El gatito Marramiau, which I have chosen to translate as Marramiau the Kitty

SHOULD I WARN FOR SPOILERS? SPOILERS ANYWAY, THE WHOLE BOOK RIGHT HERE FOLKS!

Marramiau the Kitty was sitting on his roof when he received a letter.

In the letter, he was asked if he would like to marry a pretty, white she-kitty. 

It was such a surprise that he fell off the roof.


The book goes on to say how he had to get carted off to the hospital and all the cats cried and all the mice danced (and played the trumpet) until he was revived by the scent of fish. Either I really know how to pick 'em (the first Spanish children's book I read was called The Merchants of the Devil and started off with an illegitimate child being abandoned in a slum; the second-most-recent involved urine rather more than usual, though it was funny) or Spanish children's books are more willing to embrace disaster and destruction than those back home.

Then again, my sample is small. And the more advanced version of Marramiau's story here (sorry, all of these are in Spanish) seems to make more sense and is also funnier.

Though for some reason, I can't stop laughing at It was such a surprise that he fell off the roof.
brosedshield: (Default)
Tonight, walking to the library for a lecture I mainly ignored in favor of writing for Freak Camp, I got very wet. It is raining TORRENTIALLY in Toledo, Spain tonight.

Like you could download shit from that rain.

:-))

Aaaaaaand, yes, I posted this entire thing, ONLY so I could repeat that joke I made IMing Lavinia. It TOTALLY IS RAINING. But maybe not to downloading levels...
brosedshield: (Default)
So, I was reading an author's pairing list, and it was non-standardly formatted, and, while I know now that my first impression of how many people were romantically involved with each other was wrong, I keep rolling this idea around in my head.

Ménage a huit.

It's kind of fascinating, in a dodecahedron, doesn't quite fit, now HOW WOULD THAT WORK? sort of way (this may be backlash from SPN 6.12 "Like a Virgin", just saying. I have the urge to think DIRTY THOUGHTS just to fight my stereotype). I think that ménage a huit sounds so much cooler than eightsome, even though I cannot manage to get the little mark to appear above the second 'a'.

Anyway, turns out ménage is a word all on its own, which means "members of a household" or "management of a household", without sexual implications.

Thus ménage a trois ("an arrangement in which three people share a sexual relationship, typically a domestic situation involving a married couple and a lover of one of them") translates literally into "a household of three". which...reminds me a lot of the Neal/Peter/Elizabeth ship from White Collar and seems suddenly so sweet I want to write.

We'll see whether I get to the trois or the huit (pronounced, in my head, as  twa and hweet, respectively) first. Or if I'll just default (Lord help me) to Wincest.

SPN 6.12

Feb. 6th, 2011 01:08 am
brosedshield: (Default)
 YAAAAAY!

And now for some spoilers... )*bounces away happily*
brosedshield: (Default)
 Freak Camp, Chapter Six is open for view and enjoyment and horror! Yay! And posted places! Yay! (though please temper that last 'yay' with a bit of 'I'm rather out of it, I did hit all the coms, right?). 

And I have new pants, and i should cut the bottoms off or I'm going to trip and die. But they are really comfy! Look, blue jeans, I'm doing my normal person impression! (I'm not very good at impressions *grins and crosses eyes*).

Yay, Chapter Six! *wanders away* Cha
brosedshield: (Default)
I'm probably channeling a bit too much torture and FC, because in conversation today, after reading one of [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender 's older fics, we had a chat and this was my stream of consciounsess ramble side of the conversation (she was much more coherent):

....it's been a LONG time since I saw/thought about Hellsing, so I'm trying to figure out if I can figure out what's going on...but the writing was lyrical, and lovely, and I'm just trying to nail down the details...
"Come here you pretty little details..." ::chases, nails in hand::

I think I need a break. I need to write about rainbows and unicorns or something. Wait, I do have that fic started with the killer unicorns, but that's NOT QUITE WHAT I MEANT.
brosedshield: (Default)
Title: Confessions
AU Universe: Medieval
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit off of SPN (or Merlin, to which this is clearly some kind of hybrid, like one of a coydogs or a cama)
Characters:
Sam, Dean, John
Warnings:
dreferences to child abuse/family fighting
Rating:
PG
Word count:
1846
Spoilers:
preseries
Summary:
Sam and Dean keep each other's secrets.
Author notes:
This whole medieval world spawned out of "Sir Dean vs. the Griffin". There's at least one more story in this 'verse rattling in my head.  [livejournal.com profile] lavinialavender  read this story over, but then I changed things, so, as far as typos and forgotten verbs, proceed at own risk...

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned!” Dean crows. “God’s earhairs, Sam, you will not believe how I have sinned!" )

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