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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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Oh, i *want these dolls*. So much. OMG.
*dances you*
And um. I haven't seen my story on summrgen, either, and i'm all bummed! I wanna read what someone wrote for meeeeeeee!!!
*flails a bit*
My story is up, though, and the person i wrote it for liked it, which is all i wanted. So yay! :)
*bounces about*
Um, um, um. Ficlet. Um. My brain is blank. I have no brain. Um. SPN and...and...and....boys being boys in *public* and John about to stuff them in a sack and toss them in the river. Or something. You know.
*twirls you*
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Heh.
My sister used to do this to me, Trufax.
--
"What the hell are you doing?"
Dean looks up from his place, practically squashing Sam into the tile of the supermarket floor. The long string of spit that is dangling precariously close to Sammy's face swings when his head does but doesn't detach from Dean's lip.
John Winchester has seen a lot of things but that? That's just gross.
"Dean!" John now barks because early morning shoppers who had braved the bright lights of the supermarket in search of cereal, bread and their morning papers were looking on with horror.
Dean blinked and still the spit rope hung, suspended and defying all laws of physics and God.
Sammy, for his part, was keeping perfectly still underneath the threatening glob. He might've only been four but he obviously recognised when one wrong move would end very badly for him.
John just wondered what Sammy could've possibly done to merit such a disgusting punishment.
Just when John thinks that things can't get any worse, Dean purses his lips like he's sucking on spaghetti and whips that line of spit right back up into his mouth.
"I don't care what Sammy did," John says slowly and holds up a warning finger when Dean opens his mouth, obviously to tell him exactly what Sammy did. "I don't care. I just never, ever want to see that again."
"Yes Sir," Dean grumbles.
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Also: poor you ^^
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Omg, that's disgusting. So, so gross.
Heeeeeeeee!
*we never ever did that. were we weird? perhaps.*
I saw my fic!
*bounces*
Thank you, i luff my ficlet. Wheeeeee!!
:)
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No, you aren't weird, just very lucky! *laughs*
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Yuck.
Kudos to John for nipping that one in the bud.
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Dude, I love you, and I envy Dean's skill.