St Louis

Mar. 17th, 2019 09:06 pm
expatgirl: an abstract digital collage of a light blue background, with a dark blue strip below it. This represents the sky over the ocean on a clear day. (Default)
Now, she writes, I might need a shrink.

Or, I always needed a shrink and just can't avoid it anymore. 

I think of lungfuls of seawater and I do the laundry; or of organs spilling out like eels onto railroad tracks, and I fold my husband's clothes; or of a thousand, thousand smaller ways to die.

I write back some words of comfort and I don't say oh god my sweet girl, my lovely friend, we've always needed shrinks. I don't say we were in a poetry club together, for god's sake. 

I say, instead, don't be afraid.

I will learn to keep a clean house. 
expatgirl: a roy lichtenstein style POW drawing (pow!)
 It's been 84 years, but I've done it. I've updated Liberty Bonds

When I started writing the chapter I lived in England. Now I don't. In the interim I've had health problems and.....other things going on. It's a miracle it exists at all! (Though to be honest, that can be said of literally anything I write. Writing, for me, is about as easy as performing surgery on myself.) 

Here's an excerpt from "Dear Old Pal of Mine", which is chapter 8:

A darkly bristling presence brushed by Dean’s leg, leaving a trail of brimstone in his nose. The Hellhound. He quenched the desire to slit its throat. He had to keep eyes on the demon in front of him, the one wearing that shifty-looking meat suit and conspicuously expensive cravat. He heard a heavy wuff as the Hellhound settled at the base of the throne, causing a tremor to travel through the floor.

“Good girl, Juliet,” the demon—Crowley—said in a gentle voice. It made Dean’s skin crawl.  Maybe it was the atmosphere in this place, or the smell, or something else Dean couldn’t define, but a memory threatened to climb up out of his throat in the form of a scream. All at once he heard Alistair (a name he hadn’t said to anyone, not even himself, in years) crooning similar words in a similar tone into his ear.

“Do pay attention,” Crowley said, sounding bored, as he stepped onto the dais and sat.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Trust me, you got every ounce of me and my knife’s attention.”

Crowley smiled at that. “Kurdish, is it? Very rare. I saw you, ah, fondling it.”

“Cut the crap,” Dean said. “You said you had intel?”

Crowley made a show of examining his fingernails. “I said I’d like to make a deal. It’s kind of my forte.”

Dean stepped forward, and a quiet growl rose up from the ground. “You said yourself, I’ve dealt with some of your thugs before. You know how well that ended for them.”

“Mm,” Crowley said, nodding, still smiling. “I also know how well it ended for you.”

Dean smiled back, the kind of smile he’d learned in Hell, and the Hound at Crowley’s feet grew quiet. “Yeah, how did that end? Oh, wait. With me topside and them dead.”

Crowley turned serious. “Don’t try my patience.”

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you how many pieces I’m gonna carve you into.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “There’s no rack in Hell as torturous as the grammar you just used on me.” He sighed. “But fine.” He stepped down from the throne and walked toward Dean. “As I said: you keep the celestials out of my hair, even the, hm, charismatic one, and I’ll tell you who’s after Juliet here.”

You can read from the beginning here.
Tags and Warnings: Dean/Cas, minor Dean/others, minor Sam/Jess, Sam/Eileen; World War I, angels, blood, trench warfare. Rated M.

 


expatgirl: an abstract digital collage of a light blue background, with a dark blue strip below it. This represents the sky over the ocean on a clear day. (Default)


You're gone. The trees are so quiet
When your hand was in my pocket
How they swayed from side to side
Now the meddling sky and my snowy eye
Sees a different night

The night I fell into the lion's jaws
To my regret and your delight

Those teeth themselves could not divine
Nor their pressure estimate
The haze I wish to never break
And to never contemplate

Momentum for the sake of momentum
Momentum for the sake of momentum
Of momentum

I-V

Jan. 10th, 2019 09:30 pm
expatgirl: an abstract digital collage of a light blue background, with a dark blue strip below it. This represents the sky over the ocean on a clear day. (Default)
I.

I'm trying to make the most of my unemployed hours--which assumes, of course that they may be coming to and end--but the fact of the matter is that I like doing very little. I like making tea and sitting on the floor and drinking it over the course of an hour. I like scrolling through Twitter hashtags but not posting much on Twitter (10 years on that particular hellsite, wow). I like rolling around in the glitter and the filth in my head and putting some of that down on paper (well, Google docs), without much push to finish anything.*

II.

 I wanna write about a pirate and an angel having a baby. So I do, for no one but me and a couple of other people.

III.

One no longer has a room of one's own but one is accustomed to be being sly and quiet with one's work, and even more so with one's leisure. 

IV.

Mostly Tumblr was an awful place, but there were good things about it--people I met there which I wouldn't have been able to meet anywhere else. And yes, porn. I miss it for a few reasons but a big one the fact that most pornography is GODAWFUL and curating it is a skill that takes time and and dedication. The other reason is that, you know, my limit for engaging with that particular kind of material is about 20 minutes, tops. Being able to spend 10 minutes on an exquisitely curated queer porn blog and then turn my attention to other things on the same platform was extremely refreshing! 

V.

*I really really do need to finish my WW1 Destiel AU fic. Like REALLY. 
expatgirl: an abstract digital collage of a light blue background, with a dark blue strip below it. This represents the sky over the ocean on a clear day. (Default)
This is giving me flashbacks to my livejournal days. Hopefully I'll burden you with much less terrible poetry. Instead, I'm gonna give you.....fanfic.


I primarily write for the Supernatural fandom (odd, since I haven't watched the show in years, but that's another story). I focus mostly on Dean/Cas romantically, but emphasize Team Free Will as a whole, and I love Sam Winchester. I also write for Yuri on Ice, and I've dabbled in due South and Stranger Things.

If you want to read my SPN stuff, here you go!
If you're into YoI, here you go!
dS fans, here!

And if you're just interested in general, here's my AO3 account

I'm permanently displaced, probably in bed, and definitely a completely normal adult human, with blood and deoxyribonucleic acid and all of those things.

No, I'm not the ExpatGirl from The Daily Kos, or from Twitter,  but if you came here expecting them, hopefully we can still be friends.

Enjoy!
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