I got my acceptance letter from Brooklyn! I'm going back to college, baby, woot woot! I'll probably be complaining about my classes soon enough, but man it's gonna be good to have something to actually do again instead of just sitting home and rotting my brain. What should I take! Such options!
Yesterday, Jules and I were in a mood together - you know the kind where you want everything to be sort of honey-slow and dark and soft. So I sent her Black Coffee by Ella Fitzgerald and we both grooved to it for a while. Then she came up with this gorgeous, gorgeous image of Jared sitting at a piano after a long day with his suit jacket off, accompanying the song with single notes, and Jensen coming in with his tie undone and his shirt all rumpled, leaning up against the piano and Jared, whispering the words into Jared's ear. Sigh. I really like that image.
How many times do you think Dean and Sam have pulled off the interstate into an abandoned parking lot at three or four in the morning and rocked out to Bohemian Rhapsody? I bet Sam does all the high parts. Let me goooooo!
Does anyone have My Funny Valentine as sung by Chet Baker? I have it by pretty much every other person you can imagine, but I can't seem to find a download of him that doesn't require licensing. It's driving me absolutely insane, because I heard it on Last.FM and it was so lovely. Screw his trumpet playing, his voice is what's really swoon-worthy.
Who wants drabbles? Supernatural gen or slash, Real person gen or slash, Harry Potter MWPP, etc., etc. I'm alone in the house for the first time in days and ready to rumble! *cracks knuckles*
the sun is what wakes him, spilling over his eyes and turning the insides of his eyelids red and hot. they forgot to shut the curtains the day before, too drunk, too urgent - too something - and he can't get up to close them with jared's arm thrown possessively over his chest like it is.
jared, he says, and, man c'mon, but jared doesn't budge until jensen reaches back awkwardly with one hand and shoves at a hip. even then, jared just rolls onto his back and pulls jensen along with him, all morning-sour breath and rough stubble.
their chins bump first, and then their lips.
jared's hand slides up jensen's side and over his shoulder, reassuring and warm. there's nothing urgent here, so different from the way they frantically tore at clothes last night - bruised and bit and hurt each other like they meant it.
mmm, jared mumbles, kissing down the strong line of jensen's jaw, love you.
sam's laughing when they tumble into the laundry room together, and they're necking like teenagers, can't keep their hands to themselves.
dean keeps mumbling things against sam's cheek: god and yeah and please, sammy, please.
somehow, sam gets his feet under him again, and though the dryer isn't on, he pushes dean up on it and falls to his knees. he unzips dean's fly and pushes cotton boxers out of the way, doesn't even bother with anything else before his mouth is around the head of dean's cock and slowly sinking down to take more. dean goes quiet, white-knuckled fingers around the edge of the dryer, in sam's hair, on sam's shoulders; he can't stay still.
yeah, do it, sam says hoarsely, pulling off and closing his fist around dean. he tugs hard - one two-threefour - and dean's shaking, biting off the little moans he can't help but make.
OMG! Congratulations on your acceptance! That's so exciting! :D Let me know when I can call you, because it is quite clear that we have some stherious catching up to do.
in cleveland, they stop at the rock and roll hall of fame. sam watches dean run around with his eyes wide and his leather jacket too big in the sleeves - he's like a kid, and there's something fierce and protective in sam that's too bright to look at.
the hotel they're staying at is just outside the city limits, a little run down, but otherwise better than most of the shit houses they stay in; the water ran clear the first time sam turned the faucet. when they get back from the afternoon spent at the hall, sam backs dean into the shower stall and kisses him hard enough to bruise.
sammy, what -
shut up. god, just. i want to. i. i need.
they fuck standing up, one of dean's legs wrapped around sam's waist, their mouths never more than an inch apart. it's needy and frantic and over too fast, and sam's left clinging to the only thing he has left, cool water beating down on the back of his neck.
Pretty much it told you that A. I don't have the song you want but B. I have several other covers if you want & don't have. It also said YAY school and YAY pretty mental images.
Drabble-wise: J2, headed back to Vancouver to resume filming.
the club's air is hazy and blue with smoke. it feels heavy, muffles the clink of bottles and low hush of murmuring voices.
there's a crooner on stage with the band, his fingers tapping out a beat on a glass of gin while the piano and stand up bass play behind him - his voice is so sweet and slow the entire floor is quiet to hear him.
jensen rubs his thumb over the lip of his tumbler where there's a mouth-shaped smudge and leans back against the bar, ignoring it all. he's not here for the music or the atmosphere. the bartender slides up behind him with a fresh whiskey - hey, kid - and then there are familiar, warm hands on jensen's shoulder blades, pulling him forward.
you been waitin' long? jared whispers, his mouth a welcome pressure on the side of jensen's neck.
the crooner leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as the piano takes the lead, and jensen just says, no not long, man, with one hand on each of jared's hips.
the first thing sam does when he gets back into the groove of living with his brother is break out harry potter and the sorcerer's stone. jess made him read the entire series before the fifth book came out, and now he's going to do the same to dean, because there's no way he's waiting more than four hours after the sixth one comes out to read it.
unsurprisingly, dean whines and insults and distracts his way out of reading the first one for two full months. sam's persistent, though, if nothing else, and one morning he wakes up with dean sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the book between both hands and looking like he hasn't slept a wink.
i knew it was quirrel, he crows over breakfast. who the fuck wears a purple turban in england! it had to be him, man.
they spend a week holed up in a motel room outside of columbia, south carolina while dean finishes the next two. sam tries not to be too annoying about saying i told you so at every opportunity, but he figures he's earned the right - especially when dean bounces on him at three a.m. on thursday, gesticulating wildly and head-over-heels in love with sirius black.
lj is being a huge monkey butt today, what the hell. >:(
they meet up in la the night before the flight and crash together into jensen's big bed, falling asleep more out of relief than actual exhaustion. the alarm goes off at four, and they almost don't make it to the airport in time for their flight at six, too busy making up for lost time with mouths and hands to notice the time.
(jay, uh, jensen manages, barely coherent with jared's lips on his throat and jared's hand on his dick, we gotta. shit, c'mon, it's almost.
jared's thumb sweeps over the slit, down under the ridge to press against that spot - the one that always has jensen shaking and trying to remember how to breathe. i don't care, jen, he mumbles. want you comin' apart. missed you so fuckin' much.)
they get through security with barely a glitch - just a water bottle in jared's carry-on that he sheepishly hands over to the woman near the trash can - and catch the last boarding call. jared takes the window, even though his legs are scrunched up awkwardly in front of him, and holds jensen's hand under the arm rest during take off. neither one of them bothers with small talk.
neither one of their apartments in vancouver is big enough to hold all their combined crap, so they go hunting for a penthouse. only problem is, none of the penthouses allow pets, and there's no way jared's sending harley and sadie back to texas for the entire year.
no white picket fences, jensen says severely, and the next day they start plowing through all real-estate ads for a house to rent.
jared has a very developed idea of what he wants, including a back yard for the dogs, two bathrooms - because you totally hog the shower in the morning, you bastard - a nicely sized kitchen with all new appliances, a guest bedroom, a laundry room, blah, blah, blah. all jensen wants it a bed with enough room for jared in it and a shower head he won't knock into in the mornings. he is not a complicated man.
they finally find something about six blocks away from the hotel jensen's living in. it's modest, not as big as they're used to in texas or la, but it has everything they want and extra property on each side that means the neighbors aren't going to be breathing down their necks. they put money down on the spot and fill out the questionnaires that the land lords require before they'll rent out to anyone.
'dja ever think you'd - y'know? jared asks, running his fingers over the smooth kitchen countertops - granite, from the looks of it.
jensen watches him, leaned back against the door frame, and says, nah, not really. i'm glad, though.
I have said copy of My Funny Valentine by the Baker-age, do you still need it?! I love. It reminds me of Tom Ripley, who is in turn my favourite ever character EVER. "And then you meet someone special, and all you want to do is toss them the key, and say, go on in, take a look. But you can't, because it's dark, and there are demons, and if anyone saw how black it is..."
The closet falls instantly quiet as two pairs of feet shuffle into view. The slats of the door are obscuring who each set belongs to, but anyone who's willing to stand next to Snivellus without hexing him deserves what's coming - it's only fair. Sirius's wand slides out under the door, tip barely grazing the edge of a shoe as he aims it up.
"Furnunculus!" he whispers.
There's a loud yelp - it's distinctly feminine, not quite what they'd expect from Snape - and then a terrifying bellow of, "POTTER!" that seems to shake the very ground underneath them.
"Oh, bugger," James says, eyes wide and horrified behind his glasses, "that's Evans."
The four of them exchange a frantic look, and then Peter's crawling into Remus's pocket, tiny little rat body quivering with fear. Nobody really blames him.
"Well," Sirius says, thinking fast. He pushes the invisibility cloak at James and grabs Remus by the back of his neck, reeling him in. "It worked last time."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
<3333
no subject
Sam/Dean. Christening rooms in temporary homebase.
;D
Please and thank you.
no subject
no subject
jared, he says, and, man c'mon, but jared doesn't budge until jensen reaches back awkwardly with one hand and shoves at a hip. even then, jared just rolls onto his back and pulls jensen along with him, all morning-sour breath and rough stubble.
their chins bump first, and then their lips.
jared's hand slides up jensen's side and over his shoulder, reassuring and warm. there's nothing urgent here, so different from the way they frantically tore at clothes last night - bruised and bit and hurt each other like they meant it.
mmm, jared mumbles, kissing down the strong line of jensen's jaw, love you.
no subject
*loves*
no subject
no subject
I would like a drabble, yes.
no subject
dean keeps mumbling things against sam's cheek: god and yeah and please, sammy, please.
somehow, sam gets his feet under him again, and though the dryer isn't on, he pushes dean up on it and falls to his knees. he unzips dean's fly and pushes cotton boxers out of the way, doesn't even bother with anything else before his mouth is around the head of dean's cock and slowly sinking down to take more. dean goes quiet, white-knuckled fingers around the edge of the dryer, in sam's hair, on sam's shoulders; he can't stay still.
yeah, do it, sam says hoarsely, pulling off and closing his fist around dean. he tugs hard - one two-threefour - and dean's shaking, biting off the little moans he can't help but make.
no subject
Let me know when I can call you, because it is quite clear that we have some stherious catching up to do.
love love love
♥debbie
no subject
the hotel they're staying at is just outside the city limits, a little run down, but otherwise better than most of the shit houses they stay in; the water ran clear the first time sam turned the faucet. when they get back from the afternoon spent at the hall, sam backs dean into the shower stall and kisses him hard enough to bruise.
sammy, what -
shut up. god, just. i want to. i. i need.
they fuck standing up, one of dean's legs wrapped around sam's waist, their mouths never more than an inch apart. it's needy and frantic and over too fast, and sam's left clinging to the only thing he has left, cool water beating down on the back of his neck.
no subject
Also, congrats on the acceptance to college! *spins noisemaker*
no subject
no subject
LJ ate my comment!
Pretty much it told you that A. I don't have the song you want but B. I have several other covers if you want & don't have. It also said YAY school and YAY pretty mental images.
Drabble-wise: J2, headed back to Vancouver to resume filming.
no subject
no subject
And...Sam, Dean, and the Harry Potter series. Please?
no subject
no subject
no subject
hi babygirl
no subject
there's a crooner on stage with the band, his fingers tapping out a beat on a glass of gin while the piano and stand up bass play behind him - his voice is so sweet and slow the entire floor is quiet to hear him.
jensen rubs his thumb over the lip of his tumbler where there's a mouth-shaped smudge and leans back against the bar, ignoring it all. he's not here for the music or the atmosphere. the bartender slides up behind him with a fresh whiskey - hey, kid - and then there are familiar, warm hands on jensen's shoulder blades, pulling him forward.
you been waitin' long? jared whispers, his mouth a welcome pressure on the side of jensen's neck.
the crooner leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as the piano takes the lead, and jensen just says, no not long, man, with one hand on each of jared's hips.
no subject
And I can see Dean as the faux-soprano one when they harmonise Bohemian Rhapsody. He can do the highpitched face so well.
no subject
*bigstupidgrin* *sighs* Thank you.
jensen rubs his thumb over the lip of his tumbler where there's a mouth-shaped smudge and leans back against the bar, ignoring it all.
I really like that image.
no subject
Oh my god YES! And he'd be COMPLETELY serious about it too.
no subject
I'd love me a drabble about them puppies, Moony n Padfoot! :D Something... mischievous!
no subject
That piano image kills my heart. Those two make me so stupid with happiness. Taking the song, too, by the way!
Erm, I would love a drabble, too! J2-y, please. :*
no subject
no subject
unsurprisingly, dean whines and insults and distracts his way out of reading the first one for two full months. sam's persistent, though, if nothing else, and one morning he wakes up with dean sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the book between both hands and looking like he hasn't slept a wink.
i knew it was quirrel, he crows over breakfast. who the fuck wears a purple turban in england! it had to be him, man.
they spend a week holed up in a motel room outside of columbia, south carolina while dean finishes the next two. sam tries not to be too annoying about saying i told you so at every opportunity, but he figures he's earned the right - especially when dean bounces on him at three a.m. on thursday, gesticulating wildly and head-over-heels in love with sirius black.
no subject
they meet up in la the night before the flight and crash together into jensen's big bed, falling asleep more out of relief than actual exhaustion. the alarm goes off at four, and they almost don't make it to the airport in time for their flight at six, too busy making up for lost time with mouths and hands to notice the time.
(jay, uh, jensen manages, barely coherent with jared's lips on his throat and jared's hand on his dick, we gotta. shit, c'mon, it's almost.
jared's thumb sweeps over the slit, down under the ridge to press against that spot - the one that always has jensen shaking and trying to remember how to breathe. i don't care, jen, he mumbles. want you comin' apart. missed you so fuckin' much.)
they get through security with barely a glitch - just a water bottle in jared's carry-on that he sheepishly hands over to the woman near the trash can - and catch the last boarding call. jared takes the window, even though his legs are scrunched up awkwardly in front of him, and holds jensen's hand under the arm rest during take off. neither one of them bothers with small talk.
no subject
no subject
no white picket fences, jensen says severely, and the next day they start plowing through all real-estate ads for a house to rent.
jared has a very developed idea of what he wants, including a back yard for the dogs, two bathrooms - because you totally hog the shower in the morning, you bastard - a nicely sized kitchen with all new appliances, a guest bedroom, a laundry room, blah, blah, blah. all jensen wants it a bed with enough room for jared in it and a shower head he won't knock into in the mornings. he is not a complicated man.
they finally find something about six blocks away from the hotel jensen's living in. it's modest, not as big as they're used to in texas or la, but it has everything they want and extra property on each side that means the neighbors aren't going to be breathing down their necks. they put money down on the spot and fill out the questionnaires that the land lords require before they'll rent out to anyone.
'dja ever think you'd - y'know? jared asks, running his fingers over the smooth kitchen countertops - granite, from the looks of it.
jensen watches him, leaned back against the door frame, and says, nah, not really. i'm glad, though.
no subject
no subject
Gorgeous and just right.
♥!
no subject
no subject
no subject
it's hard, but it's great and lots of cute gay guys *at least they are gay in my head*
And Bohemian Rhapsody is ♥
no subject
no subject
secondly, um, if you're still doing drabbles...weechesters playing outside in a rainstorm....?
*gives you cake*
no subject
*sigh*
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Shove over, I can't see - "
"There's nothing to see, Pete, just - wait, ow."
"Shut up! He's coming!"
The closet falls instantly quiet as two pairs of feet shuffle into view. The slats of the door are obscuring who each set belongs to, but anyone who's willing to stand next to Snivellus without hexing him deserves what's coming - it's only fair. Sirius's wand slides out under the door, tip barely grazing the edge of a shoe as he aims it up.
"Furnunculus!" he whispers.
There's a loud yelp - it's distinctly feminine, not quite what they'd expect from Snape - and then a terrifying bellow of, "POTTER!" that seems to shake the very ground underneath them.
"Oh, bugger," James says, eyes wide and horrified behind his glasses, "that's Evans."
The four of them exchange a frantic look, and then Peter's crawling into Remus's pocket, tiny little rat body quivering with fear. Nobody really blames him.
"Well," Sirius says, thinking fast. He pushes the invisibility cloak at James and grabs Remus by the back of his neck, reeling him in. "It worked last time."
no subject