one way or another

[unamaga]

My sister is an Ugly Betty fan. Like, she made a fuss because she missed the first two minutes of it. My mom used to obsessively follow X-Files, and now she watches CSI every week. My dad...thinks Smallville is quality television, and oh my god, did you know that Spike from Buffy was in one season? Isn't that so cool? I almost didn't recognize him without the scar and the accent and the hair.

I come from a long line, I think. Fandom is in my blood. All rejoice! We need, like, clan tartan for fandom or something. Maybe not tartan, because, uh, encroaching on Scottish tradition may be the last thing we ever do, but SOMETHING LIKE THAT. Ooh, it could be like a hanky code, except without hankies. Or maybe there could be hankies. Who is with me!

Also, I am really bored. Maybe you should distract me before I start writing love letters. Um. Bring on the comment fic? *shifty*

ETA: And, ok, I remember asking this ages ago, but now that there are newer people, I'm having a hard time keeping track. Who minds me flirting with them? Because, really, I flirt. A lot. And most of the time I don't mean anything by it, it's just my way of being friendly. So, uh, if you're uncomfortable with me saying things like *molesty hands* or "rawr, baby", just tell me?

Comments

[undecipherable.livejournal.com]

Yo. Screw the comment fic, I want a love letter. XD

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Dear Anney,

YOU are to me as the SUN to the MOON. Which is to say that you are really bright and also hot. You see how that works? I THINK YOU ARE SWELL. Pls send word if you wish to have scorchingly hot, fooseball table sex at your earliest convenience BECAUSE I PINE.

All my love,
Forever and Always,
And that's a long time,
I mean it,
Mel ♥

[castiel.livejournal.com]

I am so down with comment fic. I'm so bored I may puke.

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

That is unfortunate. :( Let's fix it! :)

You wanna go back and forth or you want a prompt or you wanna prompt me...? I'm open to anything!

[peccare.livejournal.com]

me too!

[castiel.livejournal.com]

Kay! :D

Any of those is totally cool with me. I realize this does not help in the decision making process, so maybe, back and forth?

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Yo,

So I was thinkin'. You still up for meeting me at the motel tonight around seven? Room 213, second floor, third door from the left. I got those strawberry flavored ones you liked last time.

-Dean

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

jensen and jared, y/n? :?

[castiel.livejournal.com]

Y!

[arabella-hope.livejournal.com]

Do not molest me, for I am as young and pure as the newly fallen snow outside my window.

*coff*

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Hiatus pretty much sucks out loud from the get-go. Jensen comes down with a shitty stomach virus and can't take his flight out of Vancouver for another week after shooting ends.

The only thing that really keeps him from killing himself with his shampoo bottle is Jared, who's really the best friend Jensen could ever ask for. He stays behind, telling his momma not to worry, Jensen just needs lots of liquids and someone to take care of him.

"I'm gonna go out and get groceries," Jared says as soon as he canvasses Jensen's empty cabinets. He makes a particularly disgusted sound at the seperating peanut butter. "You think you can keep down some soup or bread, man?"

Jensen, mistakenly, does think he can keep something down. After Jared spends an hour fixing the soup just right so it won't irritate Jensen's raw throat, it's only ten minutes before Jensen's got his face pressed against the toilet seat and Jared's hand on the back of his neck.

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

...OH NOES A MINOR IS READIN' MAH BUTTSECKSES.

[clex_monkie89.livejournal.com]

Comment fic!

*Flirts with you sleepily*

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

*pulls you into her lap and nuzzles your neck*

[peccare.livejournal.com]

you win at life!

[clex_monkie89.livejournal.com]

*Snuggles close and hms contentedly*

[noa-luna.livejournal.com]

Who minds me flirting with them?

I don't mind *grins* I think it's funny ;)

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

did you want comment fic, honey? *rubs thumb behind your ear*

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

By which I mean...

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Wewt! *tackle*

[noa-luna.livejournal.com]

Hee!

[clex_monkie89.livejournal.com]

Yes please. *Noses your neck*

[castiel.livejournal.com]

Jensen briefly contemplates just sticking his head in the toilet bowl and giving himself a swirly until he inevitably drowns, but he doesn't have the strength to keep flushing over and over again, so his attempts at suicide are just going to have to wait.

Jared's fingers squeeze lightly as he picks his head up after most of the nausea has passed, stepping back to give Jensen enough room to breath, and he pushes away from kissing the toilet seat to sag against the bathroom sink, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"Well, now that we've tested out my upchuck reflex, I think it's safe to say, I probably shouldn't eat anything unless I want it to end up projectile."

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Uh....very schmoopy?




It's a typical morning.

Sam wakes up at six, steals the keys out of Dean's jacket, and takes the Impala out for an hour – just stretching her legs and filling up her tank. He picks up breakfast for Dean while he's out, eats his own muffin with the backs of his thighs pressing comfortably against the Impala's warm hood.

When he gets back, Dean barely stirs, mumbling out something that might be Sam's name or a curse in Latin. Sam drops the coffee and paper bag onto the nightstand and heads into the bathroom for a shower.

He doesn't bother closing the door behind him. Even half-asleep and nursing a concussion, Dean can pick a lock faster than most people can turn the handle.

Which is why he's not that surprised two minutes later when strong arms wind around his waist. Dean's sweet in the mornings, always has been. His hair is mussed up in all directions when Sam catches sight of him; there's a pillow crease down the side of his face.

"Why're you up s'early?" he mumbles blearily, fingers loosening on Sam's hips so Sam can turn around in his arms. "No where t'be till next week."

Sam tips his head down. "Routine, can't help it. Didn't mean to wake you." Their noses bump, then their mouths – sour and careful with sleep. Dean mumbles some sort of reply, but Sam's not listening, more interested in the shape of Dean's jaw under his lips.

They stumble back against one of the shower walls when Sam presses forward a little too hard and Dean’s legs can’t meet the weight. They spend long, lazy minutes like that: snug together from mouth to hip, trading languid kisses. It soothes something in Sam’s chest, the easiness he can only ever have with Dean, his brother, his best friend.

And that’s really sappy. Sam has no illusions about what Dean might do to him if he ever said any of it out loud – probably drag him to a grocery store and buy melons to put down his shirt. But, well. It’s true, too.

Dean breathes out something about wasting the hot water, hands splayed flat against Sam’s shoulder blades to keep him close. Sam reaches behind himself and turns the knob to off, even though neither of them is clean.

“Back to bed?” he asks. Dean lets out a jaw-splitting yawn and agrees, allowing Sam to manhandle him into the other room and down on the bed. The covers soak up the excess shower water, turning dark almost immediately.

Dean falls back asleep with Sam’s nose pressed into the hollow of his throat, Sam’s fingers stroking over his stomach in long, gentle strokes.

[noa-luna.livejournal.com]

Awwwwwwww...