Amuse Bouche
OMG there is a Mythbusters marathon today, and my DVR is on overdrive. I haven't been able to sit down and watch any yet, too busy kicking Bowser's ass. And writing.
So! I'm working on some food pornination. (For spn_foodporn which y'all should JOIN!) I've started too many things and have nothing finished to show yet :(
It's coming together, I just have to WRITE and pray my porn doesn't break again. So here's a little preview (as DEMANDED by notthequiettype). Anything is subject to change, as I haven't even begun to EDIT! Like, tenses. I always need to go over my tenses.
Let Him Eat Cake:
Dean Winchester did not get migraines. Women with children and tax accountants got migraines. All it was is that Dean's head would hurt and he got really sensitive to light and noise.
"You want any-"
"Dear Sam,"
Oh lord, Sam thought, biting back a groan, here he goes again.
Dear Sam,
My head hurts. My knee is swollen to the size of casaba melon-
"Pssht! Grapefruit!"
-and I am in incredible pain. And you, my dear brother, eat fucking Advil like they're Skittles. So when someone (namely, myself) has a legitimate need for painkillers, they're S.O.L.
And people say you're the dewy-eyed considerate one. If they only knew the truth…
"I'm considerate enough to-"
Whatever, you're lucky I don't know any better then to just put up with your abuse.
Love,
Dean.
Sam rolls his eyes up at the ceiling, breathes, and stands. Pasting a big sarcastic smile on his face, "Hey Dean, I'm going to run to the nearest pharmacy and get you some Advil. Completely and spontaneously of my own volition."
"That's real nice of you Sammy. Pick me up some earplugs and some Skittles. And pick out all the other colors, I only want the red ones. As penance for bogarting the Advil."
Sam stalls at the door. Fratricide was harder to clean up in the long run. He should just stick with the fucking.
"And turn out the light!" Dean whined as he left.
Okay, so maybe sitting in the dark and the quiet made Dean's headache easier to deal with. But it was still NOT a migraine. We've already been over this, Dean Winchester did not get migraines.
***
Sam left the 24-hour pharmacy with an extra-large bottle of migraine strength Advil, a double bag of Skittles, and yesterday's Times.
It was only technically yesterday's, since it was about 1:00 am. But hey, free newspaper. Sam was one of those people that liked to read it cover to cover, and then rub inky hands on whatever piece of Dean's skin was available.
Sam eased the Impala through the street, not quite cruising along. There were a few cars out, and taxis speeding like maniacs. Saturday night didn't hold the same significance for him as it once did, when he had a normal schedule.
Sometimes people-watching was his escape. Sam saw the college kids dash through the dim streets, they ran up and down hills, burly guys in letterman jackets, girls wobbly on high heels. Arms clutching arms, and hidden bottles in jackets. Cellphones ringing, buzzing, being passed haphazardly amongst friends, as they hit bar after bar. There wasn't much else open. Bars, the drugstore, ATMs, and-
Sam wasn't a big believer in serendipity. But there it was.
A bakery.
More to come! In the meantime, have you considered perhaps, spn_foodporn??? :D
I will stop nagging y'all soon, I swear.
So! I'm working on some food pornination. (For spn_foodporn which y'all should JOIN!) I've started too many things and have nothing finished to show yet :(
It's coming together, I just have to WRITE and pray my porn doesn't break again. So here's a little preview (as DEMANDED by notthequiettype). Anything is subject to change, as I haven't even begun to EDIT! Like, tenses. I always need to go over my tenses.
Let Him Eat Cake:
Dean Winchester did not get migraines. Women with children and tax accountants got migraines. All it was is that Dean's head would hurt and he got really sensitive to light and noise.
"You want any-"
"Dear Sam,"
Oh lord, Sam thought, biting back a groan, here he goes again.
Dear Sam,
My head hurts. My knee is swollen to the size of casaba melon-
"Pssht! Grapefruit!"
-and I am in incredible pain. And you, my dear brother, eat fucking Advil like they're Skittles. So when someone (namely, myself) has a legitimate need for painkillers, they're S.O.L.
And people say you're the dewy-eyed considerate one. If they only knew the truth…
"I'm considerate enough to-"
Whatever, you're lucky I don't know any better then to just put up with your abuse.
Love,
Dean.
Sam rolls his eyes up at the ceiling, breathes, and stands. Pasting a big sarcastic smile on his face, "Hey Dean, I'm going to run to the nearest pharmacy and get you some Advil. Completely and spontaneously of my own volition."
"That's real nice of you Sammy. Pick me up some earplugs and some Skittles. And pick out all the other colors, I only want the red ones. As penance for bogarting the Advil."
Sam stalls at the door. Fratricide was harder to clean up in the long run. He should just stick with the fucking.
"And turn out the light!" Dean whined as he left.
Okay, so maybe sitting in the dark and the quiet made Dean's headache easier to deal with. But it was still NOT a migraine. We've already been over this, Dean Winchester did not get migraines.
***
Sam left the 24-hour pharmacy with an extra-large bottle of migraine strength Advil, a double bag of Skittles, and yesterday's Times.
It was only technically yesterday's, since it was about 1:00 am. But hey, free newspaper. Sam was one of those people that liked to read it cover to cover, and then rub inky hands on whatever piece of Dean's skin was available.
Sam eased the Impala through the street, not quite cruising along. There were a few cars out, and taxis speeding like maniacs. Saturday night didn't hold the same significance for him as it once did, when he had a normal schedule.
Sometimes people-watching was his escape. Sam saw the college kids dash through the dim streets, they ran up and down hills, burly guys in letterman jackets, girls wobbly on high heels. Arms clutching arms, and hidden bottles in jackets. Cellphones ringing, buzzing, being passed haphazardly amongst friends, as they hit bar after bar. There wasn't much else open. Bars, the drugstore, ATMs, and-
Sam wasn't a big believer in serendipity. But there it was.
A bakery.
More to come! In the meantime, have you considered perhaps, spn_foodporn??? :D
I will stop nagging y'all soon, I swear.