back at school! woo privacy! \o/

[unamaga]

So, you all are getting a joint holiday gift from me. It is going to be larger than a bread box but smaller than a microwave and involve wee!chesters.

[Poll #876064]
And, also, because I am in a very strange mood, answer these questions. Or, like, don't you freaking party pooper.

[Poll #876065]
Someone play with me, I'm bored. Look at my little face - it's so pathetic and sad! Can you really say no?

ETA: So, I was thinking, and we all know that never leads to good things, but seriously. I was thinking about how sometimes I read a particular fic and suddenly I can't imagine some of the tiny details not being canon. In my head, there are all these little things that I've picked up from all over the place that make up my own personal characterization of our boys, both in RPS and wincest. Does this happen to you? Is there any particular author that just makes you say "Yes, yes, that is exactly it"?

Comments

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

"Look at you, you nearly reach my chin! I can remember how tiny you were when your momma first had you. And your eyes, so big and green. You were a beautiful baby." Dean sniffles, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a white, lace hanky.

Sam, standing in the kitchen doorway, can't decide if he's mortified or terrified. "Christo," he says, just to be safe. Dean doesn't even notice, full out bawling now.

"Look at that strong jaw! You'll look just like your Dad when you grow up, sweetie."

[undecipherable.livejournal.com]

And Sam, standing in the doorway, is wondering if Dean will notice him try to get to the phone so he can call his dad because this is some crazy shit right here. The only thing missing is Dean in a dress with a plate of cookies. Which is when Sam notices the cookies on the table along with a glass of milk, and the cookies look like they just came out of the oven with steam rising from the top.

Sam thinks that maybe he'll have a cookie before he calls his dad. Lunch was forever ago, after all, and he is hungry.

[unamaga.livejournal.com]

Dean seems oblivious to Sam's inner struggle, pushing the platter towards him and nattering on: "How was your science test today, honey?"

Nibbling on a cookie despite himself, Sam mumbles something that might be, "Went ok," but also might be, "I like to sashay." There's something weird about these cookies. How can the chocolate chips really be so gooey and delicious?