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[CL] Flailing!Dean
Aug. 14th, 2009 01:16 am[Set in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
whenitsadream. Beth = ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
failuretotrust.]
“No.”
Beth shifted the way Angie was sitting on her hip, before looking over at her husband. “Dean—”
“Hell no.”
“Babe, not all of the children are going to fit in the back seat of your car. We need something a little—bigger.”
“Beth. I’m not driving a mini-van like a friggin’ soccer mom.”
Beth rolled her eyes, handing her daughter over to him. “It’s not that big a deal, Dean.”
“You know, Angie’d probably fit right in the front seat between me and you,” Dean said, giving the blond little girl a smile as he took her. “Wouldn’t you, Princess?”
“Uh-huh,” she said with a nod as she popped her thumb in to her mouth, resting her head on her father’s shoulder.
“There’s no seat there, Dean.”
“It’s a bench seat in a car made before 1970, there is a seat there.”
“No, Dean, I’m not putting my baby in a non-seat, now we are getting the mini-van.”
“Dad, there’s a TV in here!” Robbie said as he and Max poked their head out of the sliding door. “And a DVD player!”
“And a jack to plug in our video games,” Max added on. “Dude, we so have to get this car!”
Beth turned back to Dean with a look, and Dean gave one right back, before shaking his head. “I don’t care if you get it, but I’m sure as hell not driving it.”
Beth sighed, gritting her teeth slightly, and Dean knew that that was the universal sign that he should walk away now, nor put a kid between them. He tightened his hold on Angie, before turning and walking back towards the front desk of the car dealership.
“C’mon Princess—let’s see if that salesman’s got anymore lollipops.”
293 words
whenitsadream. Beth = failuretotrust.]“No.”
Beth shifted the way Angie was sitting on her hip, before looking over at her husband. “Dean—”
“Hell no.”
“Babe, not all of the children are going to fit in the back seat of your car. We need something a little—bigger.”
“Beth. I’m not driving a mini-van like a friggin’ soccer mom.”
Beth rolled her eyes, handing her daughter over to him. “It’s not that big a deal, Dean.”
“You know, Angie’d probably fit right in the front seat between me and you,” Dean said, giving the blond little girl a smile as he took her. “Wouldn’t you, Princess?”
“Uh-huh,” she said with a nod as she popped her thumb in to her mouth, resting her head on her father’s shoulder.
“There’s no seat there, Dean.”
“It’s a bench seat in a car made before 1970, there is a seat there.”
“No, Dean, I’m not putting my baby in a non-seat, now we are getting the mini-van.”
“Dad, there’s a TV in here!” Robbie said as he and Max poked their head out of the sliding door. “And a DVD player!”
“And a jack to plug in our video games,” Max added on. “Dude, we so have to get this car!”
Beth turned back to Dean with a look, and Dean gave one right back, before shaking his head. “I don’t care if you get it, but I’m sure as hell not driving it.”
Beth sighed, gritting her teeth slightly, and Dean knew that that was the universal sign that he should walk away now, nor put a kid between them. He tightened his hold on Angie, before turning and walking back towards the front desk of the car dealership.
“C’mon Princess—let’s see if that salesman’s got anymore lollipops.”
293 words
[CL] Eloquent!Dean
Jul. 14th, 2009 08:51 pm[failuretotrust used with permission. Set in Livin’ on a Prayer.]
“I don’t like this place.”
“You never like a place like this,” Beth said, shooting him a look as they made their way into the restaurant. “But this is a business dinner, so be nice and don’t say anything too—offensive.”
“Sweetheart, this is me,” Dean said, giving her a bit of a smirk, before heading towards the table. “I’m a joy to be around.”
Beth was probably rolling her eyes, but Dean wasn’t really paying attention. He was stuck in a monkey suit, having dinner with people he was seriously uncomfortable around. Two hours later, they were still in the same position, Dean was bored out of his mind, and they were talking about something that didn’t interest him, but he was paying mild attention. He was a multitasker, he could look bored and listen at the same time.
Then there’s the douchebag who’d been looking for a chance to trip him up all night, and that was starting to piss him off. He was one of those guys, the kind that knew what he wanted and liked to screw around with the people who got between him and it, and really had issues with taking no for an answer. Dean didn’t like him. And Dean wasn’t exactly shy about hiding that fact. They had been doing their own form of a standoff all night, and he was relishing the opportunities to call Dean up on just how uncultured he was. Everything from music to high society, and Dean was really, really starting to get sick of it.
Then the topic of conversation turned to books. Books Dean actually knew. Not old stuffy books but current books, and that was why when the conversation turned to him, he couldn’t help but take his opportunity to rub it back in his face for making him look like an idiot all night.
“Orwell was talking about oppression in all its forms. How the media can get into your head and believe things that are beyond the truth with its all encompassing media, shoving what they want us to believe down our throats and not allowing for the fact that there may be other points of view out there. When there’s only on flow of information, there’s no way a person can get all the answers.”
At that point, everyone at the table, with the exception of Beth, was staring at him in a bit of stunned silence. Dean’s eyes darted to each of them, trying his best to fight off the smirk, knowing that he had just pretty much upped the ante for himself.
“What? I read.”
“You’ve read 1984,” Douchebag said, still continuing to stare at him. “And you understood it.”
At that, Dean couldn’t keep back the grin. “Like being kicked in the nuts, isn’t it?”
That actually got him a look from his wife. But it was so worth it.
482 words
failuretotrust used with permission. Set in Livin’ on a Prayer.]“I don’t like this place.”
“You never like a place like this,” Beth said, shooting him a look as they made their way into the restaurant. “But this is a business dinner, so be nice and don’t say anything too—offensive.”
“Sweetheart, this is me,” Dean said, giving her a bit of a smirk, before heading towards the table. “I’m a joy to be around.”
Beth was probably rolling her eyes, but Dean wasn’t really paying attention. He was stuck in a monkey suit, having dinner with people he was seriously uncomfortable around. Two hours later, they were still in the same position, Dean was bored out of his mind, and they were talking about something that didn’t interest him, but he was paying mild attention. He was a multitasker, he could look bored and listen at the same time.
Then there’s the douchebag who’d been looking for a chance to trip him up all night, and that was starting to piss him off. He was one of those guys, the kind that knew what he wanted and liked to screw around with the people who got between him and it, and really had issues with taking no for an answer. Dean didn’t like him. And Dean wasn’t exactly shy about hiding that fact. They had been doing their own form of a standoff all night, and he was relishing the opportunities to call Dean up on just how uncultured he was. Everything from music to high society, and Dean was really, really starting to get sick of it.
Then the topic of conversation turned to books. Books Dean actually knew. Not old stuffy books but current books, and that was why when the conversation turned to him, he couldn’t help but take his opportunity to rub it back in his face for making him look like an idiot all night.
“Orwell was talking about oppression in all its forms. How the media can get into your head and believe things that are beyond the truth with its all encompassing media, shoving what they want us to believe down our throats and not allowing for the fact that there may be other points of view out there. When there’s only on flow of information, there’s no way a person can get all the answers.”
At that point, everyone at the table, with the exception of Beth, was staring at him in a bit of stunned silence. Dean’s eyes darted to each of them, trying his best to fight off the smirk, knowing that he had just pretty much upped the ante for himself.
“What? I read.”
“You’ve read 1984,” Douchebag said, still continuing to stare at him. “And you understood it.”
At that, Dean couldn’t keep back the grin. “Like being kicked in the nuts, isn’t it?”
That actually got him a look from his wife. But it was so worth it.
482 words
[Fiction] Hush Little Baby
Mar. 28th, 2009 09:26 pmDean didn’t think he’d ever sat still for this long ever. He had never really been a patient guy, and he always had too much energy to sit and do nothing for too long a period of time. However, right now, he was stretched out on his back on the couch, with Maddie sitting on his chest, and he hadn’t moved from that spot in just over an hour. That wasn’t what was bothering him, though—what was bothering him was the fact that he was perfectly okay with that. In fact, he was even better than okay.
It could even be said that Dean was happy.
She was just getting to around the age where she could push herself up and have her arms support her torso. She was sitting on his chest, pushing herself up and looking around as she did, eyes wandering over the scenery in the living room, before her elbows gave out on her and she flopped back down against his chest again, sitting up just enough to keep her head up, and her hands flailed against his chest, smacking it lightly, before looking up at him with a baby grin. Dean just smirked back at her before shifting, sliding lower so that she was a bit higher up than he was.
“Yeah, look at you.”
( *** )
800 words
It could even be said that Dean was happy.
She was just getting to around the age where she could push herself up and have her arms support her torso. She was sitting on his chest, pushing herself up and looking around as she did, eyes wandering over the scenery in the living room, before her elbows gave out on her and she flopped back down against his chest again, sitting up just enough to keep her head up, and her hands flailed against his chest, smacking it lightly, before looking up at him with a baby grin. Dean just smirked back at her before shifting, sliding lower so that she was a bit higher up than he was.
“Yeah, look at you.”
( *** )
800 words
[failuretotrust used with permission of her mun who made a request for Dean/Agent 99.]
( Spoilers for 406: Yellow Fever )
2011 words
failuretotrust used with permission of her mun who made a request for Dean/Agent 99.]( Spoilers for 406: Yellow Fever )
2011 words
