In the interests of my in-progress Dean-has-lots-of-lesbian-sex story:


[Poll #742963]


Personally, I use 'cunt' like I use 'cock' in stories, don't find it particularly offensive, and am more comfortable using 'cunt' to 'pussy' as I'm more comfortable using 'cock' to 'dick'.

Though when I'm reading I'm not bothered by the variations (though I am amused when they're so evasive, like "his entrance" or "his rigid heat"). But I know some people find 'cunt' offensive.

Is 'cunt' used by a woman writing a female/female sex scene that other women will read still offensive?

You decide. *points to poll*

It seems those new Jensen pics have spawned a rash of 'Wincest! In the meadow!' or 'In a barn!' or 'Rolling in the hay!'

Which is all good and well, absolutely no complaints from this corner, but what about all the other pictures?? I propose:


- Sam and Dean go on a hunt... IN OUTER SPACE.


- Dean goes undercover as a PUNK in a PUNK BAR where a band with the lead singer is a guy who looks like Mary Stuart Masterson (with a mullet) is lip syncing to Agent Orange, and anyway, Dean has to infiltrate this punk gang and prevent complete anarchy in the streets of Vancouver!!!
(er, kudos to you if you actually know what I'm talking about, here.)


- Dean gets wet.


- Credit card scams and pool hustling aside, Dean likes to keep track of their finances. Whilst wearing a suit and emo glasses, and smoking a cigarette.


- Playing doctor.


- Dean gets wet.


- There's no pool hall in this little Southern town, so Dean has to hustle some gas money in the rodeo instead.


It was getting on night time outside the grimy window, right when all the scum of the city decided to come crawlin' out of the gutters, wisps of corruption amongst the columns of steam rising from the sewers. Dean kicks his legs up to rest his heels on the desk, striking a match against a scratched drawer-front and puffing at the hand-rolled cigarette clamped between his lips. It had been a long day, and it was gonna be a long night. His latest case had panned out just fine but the lump of cash that lousy John had promised him hadn't come through, and when Dean'd called his hotel it seemed his client had skipped town without seeing to the bill. The old lady wouldn't be too pleased with the fact that he wouldn't be bringing any dough home tonight, and Dean can already taste the charred steak she'll no doubt be flipping on the stove already, crumbling in his mouth. It almost makes him choke.

He always preferred his steak bloody.

The intercom buzzes, and he leans forward to grab the receiver, cigarette resting in the corner of his mouth, hat pushed back a little to press the earpiece to his ear. "Yeah," he says.

"Got a client here to see you," his secretary says. "Says you're expecting him, though I couldn't see any appointments down here for after eight o'clock." There's a thinly-veiled strain of accusation in her tone, though he ain't making her stay after hours or nothing. Poor doll, always trying to take care of him. More like a kid sister than anything else, though.

"Guy or broad?" he asks, and she sighs.

"Guy," she says, "but Dean..."

"What?"

"Gardenias."

"Gardenias?"

"Yeah, gardenias."

He chews on the tacky end of his cigarette for a moment, thinking about the revolver in his desk drawer, the pistol strapped to his back. "Send him in."

There's a pause, and he can hear his secretary's disinterested tone as she tells the client to head on in; then it ain't a moment later that a tall silhouette glows against the frosted, yellow glass panel and then the kid steps into his office.

He's got legs up to here, first thing Dean notices, though he's trained enough to turn his mouth-twitch into a thoughtful rolling around of the cigarette, and when his eyes finally make it up to the kid's face Dean finds he's staring at him, eyes smokey behind the shadow of his hair. "Hullo Dean," he says, voice low and husky on a waft of gardenias.

"Sammy," says Dean, and grins, not taking his feet off the desk. "Long time no see."

- Dean goes for a job interview. In a suit.

- Dean gets wet.


Anyone who writes one gets a PRIZE.