Fic Quotes #5
Pairings this post: Sam/Dean, Jared/Jensen, Dean/Castiel (HS AU, other AU), Sam/Jess (HS AU), (Sam/Gabriel, other AU)
Being a little off-center and never backward in coming forward, it was Barstool who first asked about him and Sam, something Dean supposed everyone wanted to ask because stories about the Winchesters had become wild in the extreme and one of Dean's favorites was that Winchester was an assumed name, a hallmark passed from one generation to the next like they were the Dread Pirate Roberts or something.
--
"What if they shoot something off?" Dean asked, and when Sam frowned he rushed to add, "I mean, we've come back from dying but we don't know if we can grow stuff back, right?"
Sam smacked the hand not holding his shotgun over his face. "You're just thinking of this now?"
"My brain belches this stuff up when I'm under pressure," Dean said, shrugging. "You're the one who is supposed to think of downsides when we're in the planning stages and, you know, not at point of no return."
Sam leaned down until he could peek out at the assembled force outside through the motel room window and then looked back at Dean, exasperation definitely having taken over affection on his face. "Now I'm worried they're going to shoot my cock off," Sam grumbled.
"I was thinking arm or leg but dammit Sammy, now so am I," Dean groaned.
-- I Cannot Rest From Travel, kellifer_fic, (Sam/Dean)
===
Jensen, Jared thinks, is a lot like a pony. He's entertaining and reliable and has big eyes and is fun to ride but sometimes you wave your hands at him and explain things and try to get him to follow along behind you, and he just stands there looking pretty and eating hay.
Similes aren't really Jared's strong point.
--
"You have an internet ass-shrine," Jensen points out calmly. "You're really proud of the fact that you have an internet ass-shrine. Why is this a big deal?"
"Because," Jared says plaintively. "Because it is."
"And you send me links to porn all the time," Jensen continues. "You actively seek out internet dick discussion. Last week you printed out porn quotes about your dick and stuck them on the bathroom mirror. You love your dick."
"I love my fictional dick," Jared stresses. "My fictional dick is almost as hilarious as the things that fictional you says about my fictional dick. I don't want my real dick to come into play here."
-- Jared Pacalecki vs the Internet, bertee, (Jared/Jensen)
===
When Dean had gone back to work, Sam cut back his practice hours. Because even now they don't want the boys coming home to an empty house. Sam's early mornings mean he's done in time to pick Zack up on his way home, and Dean always walks in the door to the metallic twang of Zack's favorite videogame, Sam's research and photocopies spread all across the enormous couch. Drew will be home by then, will have spread his own work across the smaller sofa in not-so-subtle imitation, and the two will be commiserating about how they'd rather be playing Zack's videogame.
-- Myopic, dreamlittleyo, (Sam/Dean, kidfic)
===
"Hey Sammy..."
Sam pulled his laptop on to his knee and glanced over at his brother; "yeah?"
"Being serious; do I deserve Cas?"
Sam frowned; "what do you mean?"
"I mean... I know he's too good for me, but..."
"Dean, in all seriousness, no one's too good for anyone. You deserve to be happy, and so does Cas; you both chose to be happy with each other, so... It's not about entitlement, it's about choice. Why do you think we have such a multi-cultured planet? If white people only married white people, or Germans only married Germans, we're not going to get very far as a species... We need to mix things up. So, every once in a while, some weird little rich kid decides to date a horny mechanic, and the world keeps turning."
Dean scowled; "that was very nice and profound, until the end."
Sam grinned; "I ran out of nice profound things to say."
--
"I'd apologise if I were sorry."
--Not All That, (AO3)totalizzyness, (Dean/Cas, Sam/Jess high school AU)
===
The dude behind the desk, you see, is criminally attractive. He looks for all the world like he just stepped out of some ridiculous issue of Playgirl where they fetishize various professions. Like, oh, look at this sexy firefighter, he’s only wearing suspenders while he suggestively angles that firehose. Oh, look at this sexy mechanic, he’s working on a Mustang in an attractively oil-smeared wifebeater. Oh, look at this sexy librarian, decked out in a gunmetal waistcoat, vibrantly blue tie, and wire-rimmed glasses-no wait, this is real life, apparently. Dean sure as hell hadn’t known that people actually dressed like that. Especially at small public libraries. In the middle of July.
--
“Get off my couch, bitch, and make me dinner. Work was shit and I demand meat so that I might taste the suffering of another creature and be comforted by it.”
--
And there’s Castiel to watch this time, to Dean’s delight. But it must be laundry day or something, because the librarian’s wearing a green “READ: Let Your Imagination Soar at Your Local Library” tee and worn-out jeans instead of the usual dress shirt and waistcoat. Dean doesn’t even exactly mind the cripplingly nerdy get-up, though, what with all the forearm action he’s getting today. Still, it doesn’t exactly inspire him to hold his tongue.
“Nice shirt,” Dean says when Cas drifts over to where he’s sitting.
The remark earns him a look of consternation. “It was Wilderness Explorers Day for summer camp. I was not about to go crawling through pine needles in a tie and slacks.” Upon observing Dean’s sheepish expression, Castiel adds with a smirk, “Now don’t you feel like a jerk?”
“You’re a jerk,” Dean mutters.
“I’ve made peace with that possibility,” Cas replies serenely.
--
"[...] You hear that saying, that the course of love never runs smooth?”
“...yeah?” Dean mutters.
Gabriel wings the other dishtowel at his head. “Well you aren’t even on the course! You’re off tromping through hedges and destroying Mrs. Baker’s prize azaleas with your giant unwieldy woe-is-me boots. Jesus!”
-- Start Quoting Shakespeare And We're Done, pyrebi, (Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel, AU)
===
"So you don't believe in God, Mr. Winchester?" Taylor asked.
Like he really wanted to know what Sam believed. Sam shook his head. "It's not that simple," he said.
"Oh really?" Taylor said. "Why not?"
"You don't really want to hear what I believe, Mr. Taylor," Sam said. He chased a scarab down Taylor's neck with his eyes before snapping his gaze away. "But I'll tell you because then you'll leave. I believe that life, like shit, just happens most of the time. I don't think there's a grand plan because I'm fairly sure God got his omnipotent ass run out of Heaven a long time ago and the angels he left behind are all a bunch of bored guys tired of playing the same game and watching us have all the fun. I don't think there's a scrap of true grace left among them to fight over. I believe that people tend to forget that all demons were angels once. Think of that and consider what it means. Heaven's just like Hell, only with a better interior decorator. They've got track-lighting, air conditioning, maybe Saint Peter on the harp playing "Enter Sandman" and it doesn't matter what it looks like anyway because those places-Heaven and Hell-aren't where we're going. They aren't for us. Not anymore. We're human, we just die and we don't get a refund later if we close our eyes during the show."
--
They whispered, "I love you," back to each other again and again, speaking the tired old words like two wild animals in the night who have discovered the meaning of them for the first time and are desperate to worship it before the sun rises and it melts.
-- A Bleak Understanding in Reverse, lustmordred, (Sam/Dean)
Being a little off-center and never backward in coming forward, it was Barstool who first asked about him and Sam, something Dean supposed everyone wanted to ask because stories about the Winchesters had become wild in the extreme and one of Dean's favorites was that Winchester was an assumed name, a hallmark passed from one generation to the next like they were the Dread Pirate Roberts or something.
--
"What if they shoot something off?" Dean asked, and when Sam frowned he rushed to add, "I mean, we've come back from dying but we don't know if we can grow stuff back, right?"
Sam smacked the hand not holding his shotgun over his face. "You're just thinking of this now?"
"My brain belches this stuff up when I'm under pressure," Dean said, shrugging. "You're the one who is supposed to think of downsides when we're in the planning stages and, you know, not at point of no return."
Sam leaned down until he could peek out at the assembled force outside through the motel room window and then looked back at Dean, exasperation definitely having taken over affection on his face. "Now I'm worried they're going to shoot my cock off," Sam grumbled.
"I was thinking arm or leg but dammit Sammy, now so am I," Dean groaned.
-- I Cannot Rest From Travel, kellifer_fic, (Sam/Dean)
===
Jensen, Jared thinks, is a lot like a pony. He's entertaining and reliable and has big eyes and is fun to ride but sometimes you wave your hands at him and explain things and try to get him to follow along behind you, and he just stands there looking pretty and eating hay.
Similes aren't really Jared's strong point.
--
"You have an internet ass-shrine," Jensen points out calmly. "You're really proud of the fact that you have an internet ass-shrine. Why is this a big deal?"
"Because," Jared says plaintively. "Because it is."
"And you send me links to porn all the time," Jensen continues. "You actively seek out internet dick discussion. Last week you printed out porn quotes about your dick and stuck them on the bathroom mirror. You love your dick."
"I love my fictional dick," Jared stresses. "My fictional dick is almost as hilarious as the things that fictional you says about my fictional dick. I don't want my real dick to come into play here."
-- Jared Pacalecki vs the Internet, bertee, (Jared/Jensen)
===
When Dean had gone back to work, Sam cut back his practice hours. Because even now they don't want the boys coming home to an empty house. Sam's early mornings mean he's done in time to pick Zack up on his way home, and Dean always walks in the door to the metallic twang of Zack's favorite videogame, Sam's research and photocopies spread all across the enormous couch. Drew will be home by then, will have spread his own work across the smaller sofa in not-so-subtle imitation, and the two will be commiserating about how they'd rather be playing Zack's videogame.
-- Myopic, dreamlittleyo, (Sam/Dean, kidfic)
===
"Hey Sammy..."
Sam pulled his laptop on to his knee and glanced over at his brother; "yeah?"
"Being serious; do I deserve Cas?"
Sam frowned; "what do you mean?"
"I mean... I know he's too good for me, but..."
"Dean, in all seriousness, no one's too good for anyone. You deserve to be happy, and so does Cas; you both chose to be happy with each other, so... It's not about entitlement, it's about choice. Why do you think we have such a multi-cultured planet? If white people only married white people, or Germans only married Germans, we're not going to get very far as a species... We need to mix things up. So, every once in a while, some weird little rich kid decides to date a horny mechanic, and the world keeps turning."
Dean scowled; "that was very nice and profound, until the end."
Sam grinned; "I ran out of nice profound things to say."
--
"I'd apologise if I were sorry."
--Not All That, (AO3)totalizzyness, (Dean/Cas, Sam/Jess high school AU)
===
The dude behind the desk, you see, is criminally attractive. He looks for all the world like he just stepped out of some ridiculous issue of Playgirl where they fetishize various professions. Like, oh, look at this sexy firefighter, he’s only wearing suspenders while he suggestively angles that firehose. Oh, look at this sexy mechanic, he’s working on a Mustang in an attractively oil-smeared wifebeater. Oh, look at this sexy librarian, decked out in a gunmetal waistcoat, vibrantly blue tie, and wire-rimmed glasses-no wait, this is real life, apparently. Dean sure as hell hadn’t known that people actually dressed like that. Especially at small public libraries. In the middle of July.
--
“Get off my couch, bitch, and make me dinner. Work was shit and I demand meat so that I might taste the suffering of another creature and be comforted by it.”
--
And there’s Castiel to watch this time, to Dean’s delight. But it must be laundry day or something, because the librarian’s wearing a green “READ: Let Your Imagination Soar at Your Local Library” tee and worn-out jeans instead of the usual dress shirt and waistcoat. Dean doesn’t even exactly mind the cripplingly nerdy get-up, though, what with all the forearm action he’s getting today. Still, it doesn’t exactly inspire him to hold his tongue.
“Nice shirt,” Dean says when Cas drifts over to where he’s sitting.
The remark earns him a look of consternation. “It was Wilderness Explorers Day for summer camp. I was not about to go crawling through pine needles in a tie and slacks.” Upon observing Dean’s sheepish expression, Castiel adds with a smirk, “Now don’t you feel like a jerk?”
“You’re a jerk,” Dean mutters.
“I’ve made peace with that possibility,” Cas replies serenely.
--
"[...] You hear that saying, that the course of love never runs smooth?”
“...yeah?” Dean mutters.
Gabriel wings the other dishtowel at his head. “Well you aren’t even on the course! You’re off tromping through hedges and destroying Mrs. Baker’s prize azaleas with your giant unwieldy woe-is-me boots. Jesus!”
-- Start Quoting Shakespeare And We're Done, pyrebi, (Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel, AU)
===
"So you don't believe in God, Mr. Winchester?" Taylor asked.
Like he really wanted to know what Sam believed. Sam shook his head. "It's not that simple," he said.
"Oh really?" Taylor said. "Why not?"
"You don't really want to hear what I believe, Mr. Taylor," Sam said. He chased a scarab down Taylor's neck with his eyes before snapping his gaze away. "But I'll tell you because then you'll leave. I believe that life, like shit, just happens most of the time. I don't think there's a grand plan because I'm fairly sure God got his omnipotent ass run out of Heaven a long time ago and the angels he left behind are all a bunch of bored guys tired of playing the same game and watching us have all the fun. I don't think there's a scrap of true grace left among them to fight over. I believe that people tend to forget that all demons were angels once. Think of that and consider what it means. Heaven's just like Hell, only with a better interior decorator. They've got track-lighting, air conditioning, maybe Saint Peter on the harp playing "Enter Sandman" and it doesn't matter what it looks like anyway because those places-Heaven and Hell-aren't where we're going. They aren't for us. Not anymore. We're human, we just die and we don't get a refund later if we close our eyes during the show."
--
They whispered, "I love you," back to each other again and again, speaking the tired old words like two wild animals in the night who have discovered the meaning of them for the first time and are desperate to worship it before the sun rises and it melts.
-- A Bleak Understanding in Reverse, lustmordred, (Sam/Dean)