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- Under 100 word request ficlets. Give me a fandom (that I write), a character or pairing (that I write) and a descriptive word or an ordinary domestic task.
- I know there are a lot of people anticipating and invested in the robot!Dean story that I am working on and I'm tempted to open it up since it's technically a request fic since so many of you asked for a followup so nicely. Keep in mind that this is a story from Dean's POV and a quest for the elusive Supernatural brand of blue fairy but I'm also doing some flashbacks etc. What would you like to see in the story? (Please remember my brain is a strange place and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deirdre_c's story that thing that's golden eventuated from her asking for the boys doing something domestic like vacuuming so you never know what you're going to get).
- I haven't seen my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_summergen request yet. My first story has been posted but my pitch-hit hasn't as yet. Just watching the community. If anyone *has* seen my request come up and I missed it like a dufuss please let me know.
- Now purely for fun - have a teeny tiny Doll!Castiel fic.
___
"Dude, that’s not even funny. Where the hell did you get that thing anyway?” Dean asked on a Tuesday morning when he woke up to a very realistic-looking Castiel doll sitting on the bedside table, propped up against a lamp.
“What thing?” the doll asked and Dean fell out of bed.
^o^
"I don't see why you find this amusing," Castiel grouches, pacing the small round table next to the kitchenette. His tiny trenchcoat swishes with his movement and Dean could swear his unruly yarn hair is blowing in an invisible breeze.
"Believe me, I'm just glad it's not me this time," Dean says, trying to get his chuckling under control.
Right at that moment, Sam bursts into the room. He sees Dean, sees the doll version of Castiel and lets out a relieved-sounding breath. "Thank christ, she was blaming me for this," Sam says, indicating his breast pocket. Dean hadn't noticed when Sam first entered that there's something tucked into the pocket like a handkerchief.
It looks a lot like a small female doll with long black yarn hair and a really pissed-off expression.
- I know there are a lot of people anticipating and invested in the robot!Dean story that I am working on and I'm tempted to open it up since it's technically a request fic since so many of you asked for a followup so nicely. Keep in mind that this is a story from Dean's POV and a quest for the elusive Supernatural brand of blue fairy but I'm also doing some flashbacks etc. What would you like to see in the story? (Please remember my brain is a strange place and
deirdre_c's story that thing that's golden eventuated from her asking for the boys doing something domestic like vacuuming so you never know what you're going to get). - I haven't seen my
spn_summergen request yet. My first story has been posted but my pitch-hit hasn't as yet. Just watching the community. If anyone *has* seen my request come up and I missed it like a dufuss please let me know.- Now purely for fun - have a teeny tiny Doll!Castiel fic.
"Dude, that’s not even funny. Where the hell did you get that thing anyway?” Dean asked on a Tuesday morning when he woke up to a very realistic-looking Castiel doll sitting on the bedside table, propped up against a lamp.
“What thing?” the doll asked and Dean fell out of bed.
"I don't see why you find this amusing," Castiel grouches, pacing the small round table next to the kitchenette. His tiny trenchcoat swishes with his movement and Dean could swear his unruly yarn hair is blowing in an invisible breeze.
"Believe me, I'm just glad it's not me this time," Dean says, trying to get his chuckling under control.
Right at that moment, Sam bursts into the room. He sees Dean, sees the doll version of Castiel and lets out a relieved-sounding breath. "Thank christ, she was blaming me for this," Sam says, indicating his breast pocket. Dean hadn't noticed when Sam first entered that there's something tucked into the pocket like a handkerchief.
It looks a lot like a small female doll with long black yarn hair and a really pissed-off expression.
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Also, for this I'm gonna go with the same pairing I asked for last time you did drabble requests and ask for - Sam Winchester/Matt Farrel, cooking a meal. <3
(ps...I used to be
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--
Matt has bony elbows.
Sam learns this when they wash dishes, or at least he washes and Matt pretends to dry which means he holds one plate with his dishrag for the entire fifteen minutes it takes Sam to wash and then leaves the rest to drain.
He learns it when they both accidentally try to go through a doorway at the same time.
He learns it when Matt flails around in his sleep, always a mover, never really at peace because his manic-ness translates to his body when he's unconscious and can't talk it out of him.
He doesn't really mind. It's just Matt, as much a thing to like as his over-generous mouth and quick wit. At least, that's what Sam tells himself when he gets one of those pointy little suckers to his ribs for the third time in as many minutes as they chop vegetables side by side.
"How about I finish this and you go set the table?" Sam suggests and then grins when Matt disappears in a flash, having been very vocal about his loathing of chopping vegetables of any kind and how it's ludicrous that they just don't come that way from the supermarket, pre-peeled and pre-diced.
Sam smiles to himself because that is very Matt too.
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I might actually get around to writing a looong fic with these too one day!
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