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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.
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.
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where's the rest of that story? Can't you, you know, prize yourself for writing more of it?
/heads back to lurkdom where she belongs
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gah.
is.speechless.
and yes to the fic
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but thanks :)
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hi!
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and if i could finish these 6daysandcounting overdue assignment, i'd write some too ;)
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I sense a theme here.
Also, loved the little excerpt of noir-detective Dean. He's so smarmy - yum. More? Because then you'll get a prize.
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Argh. um. maybe? I'm tempted, but I know it will escalate and get very out-of-hand. out-of-hander. So. Maybe?
BESIDES. I am busy writing lesbian!Dean fic right now!! In which, now that I think about it, Dean gets wet. In many senses of the word.
I win the prize for silly fic, I think.
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I think, I think the busy-lesbian-fic is much more important than the film noir one. yes.
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I should be able to finish the girlsex story tonight, I think. But now I'm thinking about the noir one too, so who knows what's next??
One day I might actually write a non-crack story in this fandom.
Wet Dean.
What. Well, it could have been a Kelpie.
It was all pretty and black and shinny and looked so awesomely fast. And sticky. And going back into the water. And now he's soaking wet, got a handful of horse hair, a nasty bite on his side, no idea where the camp ground is from here and no Dad's shiniest knife.
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If you write it, I will read it.
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So. Much.
- Sam and Dean go on a hunt... IN OUTER SPACE.
- Dean goes for a job interview. In a suit.
I'm trying to decide which one is more unlikely.
Did I mention? SO. MUCH.
Re: Wet Dean.
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Now I want to write a story for all of the pictures, including the outer space and job interview ones. ohmg.
Re: Wet Dean.
It looks like a big young horse and lives in waterways, if you get on it carts you back in. It's sticky so the victim can't get off and it likes to eat people's livers.
Maybe he might fall for a Selkie? Very pretty people, live as seals in the ocean but when they come on land they are human. To keep them you have to steal their seal skin.
Guess who found a water spirits website?
http://members.tripod.com/~waterdragon/water.html
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Which is my way of saying, "Dooooo eeeeett." :waves Jedi hand signals in front of your face: Seriously. Someone needs to; someone will, sooner or later. It might as well be someone who can handle it and do it well.
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Wet.
*shifty eyes*
I think I just ovulated.
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And, n'aww, now I'm all flattered and stuff *bashful*
I think I'll give it a whirl. I'm not an RPSer in this fandom, though, so it'll have to be Dean.
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I love you so much.
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LESBIAN DEAN FIRST! *pounds desk*
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ahahahah JUDY! OFFICER HOFFS!
hi. WRITE STUFF!
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I was hoping someone would pick up on that. Of course it would be you. *glomps*
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