why_me_why_not (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
why_me_why_not) wrote2007-08-26 06:19 pm
why_me_why_not) wrote2007-08-26 06:19 pm
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The most awesome ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
irisgirl12000 has combined two of my favoritest things in the entire world -- baseball and the cw boys -- for her ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
reel_spn fic!! Go read!
the curve you thought was there
Author:irisgirl12000
Movie prompt: Bull Durham
Characters/Pairings: most of the CW, Jensen/various
Rating/Word Count: Adult, ~11k
Disclaimer: Any dialogue you recognize is the property of MGM Entertainment. The folks described here own themselves, and everything described is fiction.
Now. I've got a crapload of stuff sitting here that really needs to go away. Starting small...
150 words, Supernatural, wincesty connotations, set after the season 2 finale.
Sam feels something's different, that he's different, that there's a hollow place between him & Dean that wasn't there before. He knows Dean's getting fed up with the near-constant touching, but it's the only way Sam's found to ground himself, to prove he's alive and Dean's still here, even if they're no longer DeanandSam.
Since he died and came back, he wants more, but he's not sure what "more" is. He keeps having these dreams about Dean that leave him trembling with more than fear.
He knows it's wrong to want to lick Dean all over, take away the demon's taint with his tongue, leave some marks to claim Dean as his, but he getting harder and harder to push the thoughts away. He shifts in his seat with a sigh and tears his eyes away from Dean to stare out the window of the Impala at the passing scenery.
100 words, Latter Days drabble as requested byltlredhairdgirl months ago
Christian and Aaron are walking out of the store with groceries when they're stopped by a group of girls in uniform selling cookies. Chris knows Aaron is going to ask for them, and starts protesting before he can. Even the low-fat ones are fattening, and he needs to watch his figure. Aaron tries to convince him with smiles and cajoling and finally with saying, "Eric likes cookies. You know how hard it's been to get him to eat lately."
Christian sends a mock-glare in his direction as he pulls his wallet back out and asks the girls for three boxes.
Sam/Jess ficlet. 800 words. untitled/unbetad. My take on how Sam met Jess.
Sam can't study in his apartment. It's too quiet, and the fact that there is nothing to distract him makes it hard to concentrate.
His first two years weren't bad. Maybe it was dorm life and his annoying-as-hell roommate who had made Dean seem like a considerate neatfreak. And maybe it was just Dean himself. The brothers hadn't parted on good terms, but they had kept in sporadic contact. Sam thought it meant Dean accepted that Sam wanted a different life. He didn't realize he was wrong until Dean showed up just before the start of fall semester, surprising him. He asked if Sammy had come to his senses and was ready to quit playing at "this normal life act." There had been some angry words exchanged and they hadn't spoken since.
There's a hole-in-the-wall diner just off campus that almost seems out of place, but it's a replica of the hundreds of places Sam's been in with Dad and Dean over the years so he goes in. It's not exactly crowded, but the bustle and noise is immediately familiar.
Sam stands awkwardly just inside the door for a few minutes until an older woman walks by with a plate in each hand and a smile and says, "Just take a seat anywhere, hun, I'll be right there."
Sam makes his way to a back corner booth. It's an old habit, sitting with his back to the way so he can keep a survey on the room. Ordering the special is another habit. It's usually cheap and it saves time since it means he doesn't have to look at the menu and decide between chocies. He had long been conditioned against being a picky eater.
While he's waiting on his food, he studies the rest of the diner. The other patrons range from a family with young children to a couple of folks in business suits to a couple of young people he's pretty sure he recognizes from campus. He doesn't notice anyone with books or a laptop, so he makes a mental note to ask the waitress if it'd be okay if he takes over this table to study on.
When his plate arrives, it's standard diner fare: mass-produced meatloaf, instant mashed potatoes, and carrotes from a can. It's as close to home-cooked as Sam's ever known and he suddenly realizes that he really is hungry. He digs in, and when the waitress comes back with his tab and an approving smile, he asks her if it would be okay if he comes back sometime with his books.
"As long as you buy something and leave me a good tip, you're more than welcome."
Sam laughs and takes her at her word, and it quickly becomes a routine. The food is just this side of decent but the staff is friendly and full of smiles. They don't seem to mind when he stakes out the corner booth and spreads his books out on the table. Studying here is easier, reminds him of researching for one job or another, only Dean's not here to steal his fries or kick him under the table or run searches for obscure or obscene topics while Sam's in the restroom.
Another bonus is the blonde that works the evening shift most nights. She's about his age, full of playful remarks and friendly smiles. Late in the evening, she'll turn up the radio -- the kind of music that Sam knows all the words to because it's what Dean listens to in the car -- and slip Sam a free piece of pie. Sometimes, on her break or when her shift ends early, she'll sit down across from him, not caring a bit that she's interupting his studying, and drag him into conversation.
On Dean's birthday, Sam shows up at the diner just looking for company. He doesn't want to study, he just doesn't want to be alone, reminded that he should be spending the evening celebrating with his brother. Ironically, it's Jessica's birthday too, and she's got the night off. Sam's sitting at the counter, staring into his coffee, when she comes in.
"Date over so soon?" Sam asks.
"Any date that starts with the guy bringing roses is damned from the start. Roses are lame."
"You don't like flowers?"
"He forked out money for roses and then wanted me to pay for my own dinner. At McDonalds."
"Classy guy."
"Yeah." Jess sighs and sits down on the stool next to Sam. "But roses... I mean, c'mon, they have no personality. They're a universal symbol of romance, but they don't mean anything special to me. You know?"
"A special girl deserves some thought put into her boquet?" Sam teases.
Jess laughs, that light, easy sound that does strange things to Sam's heart. "And what kind of flowers would you bring me, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment. "Forget-me-nots."
"So I'll never forget you?"
"No. Because the blue would match your eyes perfectly."
Jess smiles at him. "I don't think I'll ever forget you anyway."
irisgirl12000 has combined two of my favoritest things in the entire world -- baseball and the cw boys -- for her reel_spn fic!! Go read!the curve you thought was there
Author:
irisgirl12000Movie prompt: Bull Durham
Characters/Pairings: most of the CW, Jensen/various
Rating/Word Count: Adult, ~11k
Disclaimer: Any dialogue you recognize is the property of MGM Entertainment. The folks described here own themselves, and everything described is fiction.
Now. I've got a crapload of stuff sitting here that really needs to go away. Starting small...
150 words, Supernatural, wincesty connotations, set after the season 2 finale.
Sam feels something's different, that he's different, that there's a hollow place between him & Dean that wasn't there before. He knows Dean's getting fed up with the near-constant touching, but it's the only way Sam's found to ground himself, to prove he's alive and Dean's still here, even if they're no longer DeanandSam.
Since he died and came back, he wants more, but he's not sure what "more" is. He keeps having these dreams about Dean that leave him trembling with more than fear.
He knows it's wrong to want to lick Dean all over, take away the demon's taint with his tongue, leave some marks to claim Dean as his, but he getting harder and harder to push the thoughts away. He shifts in his seat with a sigh and tears his eyes away from Dean to stare out the window of the Impala at the passing scenery.
100 words, Latter Days drabble as requested by
ltlredhairdgirl months agoChristian and Aaron are walking out of the store with groceries when they're stopped by a group of girls in uniform selling cookies. Chris knows Aaron is going to ask for them, and starts protesting before he can. Even the low-fat ones are fattening, and he needs to watch his figure. Aaron tries to convince him with smiles and cajoling and finally with saying, "Eric likes cookies. You know how hard it's been to get him to eat lately."
Christian sends a mock-glare in his direction as he pulls his wallet back out and asks the girls for three boxes.
Sam/Jess ficlet. 800 words. untitled/unbetad. My take on how Sam met Jess.
Sam can't study in his apartment. It's too quiet, and the fact that there is nothing to distract him makes it hard to concentrate.
His first two years weren't bad. Maybe it was dorm life and his annoying-as-hell roommate who had made Dean seem like a considerate neatfreak. And maybe it was just Dean himself. The brothers hadn't parted on good terms, but they had kept in sporadic contact. Sam thought it meant Dean accepted that Sam wanted a different life. He didn't realize he was wrong until Dean showed up just before the start of fall semester, surprising him. He asked if Sammy had come to his senses and was ready to quit playing at "this normal life act." There had been some angry words exchanged and they hadn't spoken since.
There's a hole-in-the-wall diner just off campus that almost seems out of place, but it's a replica of the hundreds of places Sam's been in with Dad and Dean over the years so he goes in. It's not exactly crowded, but the bustle and noise is immediately familiar.
Sam stands awkwardly just inside the door for a few minutes until an older woman walks by with a plate in each hand and a smile and says, "Just take a seat anywhere, hun, I'll be right there."
Sam makes his way to a back corner booth. It's an old habit, sitting with his back to the way so he can keep a survey on the room. Ordering the special is another habit. It's usually cheap and it saves time since it means he doesn't have to look at the menu and decide between chocies. He had long been conditioned against being a picky eater.
While he's waiting on his food, he studies the rest of the diner. The other patrons range from a family with young children to a couple of folks in business suits to a couple of young people he's pretty sure he recognizes from campus. He doesn't notice anyone with books or a laptop, so he makes a mental note to ask the waitress if it'd be okay if he takes over this table to study on.
When his plate arrives, it's standard diner fare: mass-produced meatloaf, instant mashed potatoes, and carrotes from a can. It's as close to home-cooked as Sam's ever known and he suddenly realizes that he really is hungry. He digs in, and when the waitress comes back with his tab and an approving smile, he asks her if it would be okay if he comes back sometime with his books.
"As long as you buy something and leave me a good tip, you're more than welcome."
Sam laughs and takes her at her word, and it quickly becomes a routine. The food is just this side of decent but the staff is friendly and full of smiles. They don't seem to mind when he stakes out the corner booth and spreads his books out on the table. Studying here is easier, reminds him of researching for one job or another, only Dean's not here to steal his fries or kick him under the table or run searches for obscure or obscene topics while Sam's in the restroom.
Another bonus is the blonde that works the evening shift most nights. She's about his age, full of playful remarks and friendly smiles. Late in the evening, she'll turn up the radio -- the kind of music that Sam knows all the words to because it's what Dean listens to in the car -- and slip Sam a free piece of pie. Sometimes, on her break or when her shift ends early, she'll sit down across from him, not caring a bit that she's interupting his studying, and drag him into conversation.
On Dean's birthday, Sam shows up at the diner just looking for company. He doesn't want to study, he just doesn't want to be alone, reminded that he should be spending the evening celebrating with his brother. Ironically, it's Jessica's birthday too, and she's got the night off. Sam's sitting at the counter, staring into his coffee, when she comes in.
"Date over so soon?" Sam asks.
"Any date that starts with the guy bringing roses is damned from the start. Roses are lame."
"You don't like flowers?"
"He forked out money for roses and then wanted me to pay for my own dinner. At McDonalds."
"Classy guy."
"Yeah." Jess sighs and sits down on the stool next to Sam. "But roses... I mean, c'mon, they have no personality. They're a universal symbol of romance, but they don't mean anything special to me. You know?"
"A special girl deserves some thought put into her boquet?" Sam teases.
Jess laughs, that light, easy sound that does strange things to Sam's heart. "And what kind of flowers would you bring me, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment. "Forget-me-nots."
"So I'll never forget you?"
"No. Because the blue would match your eyes perfectly."
Jess smiles at him. "I don't think I'll ever forget you anyway."