dimples-of-discontent:rachelhaimowitz: Okay not a photo op but HOLY SHIT U GUISE IS THIS A STORY. So
dimples-of-discontent:rachelhaimowitz: Okay not a photo op but HOLY SHIT U GUISE IS THIS A STORY. So, @consulting-cannibal drew this for me a little over a year ago at the last @destielcon, and I’ve been teasing her since then that I was gonna ask the actors to sign their censor bars. So Misha’s auto was first, and went like this: Me: *hands photo to handler* Handler: *stares for like ten seconds while giggling* *slides art over to Misha while watching for his reaction* Me: Hi Misha um you totally do not have to sign that I have something else for you if you don’t want– Misha: *grinning* Oh, I’ll sign it. *studies art for several seconds* Me: *hands Misha a fine-point silver marker* I was hoping you could sign your censor bar. Misha: *signs bar* *shakes head, chuckles* *starts writing at the bottom* Now at this point I can’t see what he’s writing because it’s silver ink on white paper in not-great lighting and my contrast vision is shit. So when he’s done he slides it back to me and I read it and laugh and ask “Is this a message for Jensen?” And Misha smiles and says “Yep!” So the next day (like three hours ago and holy shit I’m still dying) I have Jensen’s auto, which goes like this: Me: *hands art to handler* I brought an alternate for him to sign he totally doesn’t have to– Handler: *huge smile* He will definitely sign it. I’ve been waiting for you guys to show up. Me: Oh wait were you at Misha’s table yesterday? Handler: Yep! Me: *gestures to Jensen* Does he know? Handler: Nope, I wouldn’t dare spoil the surprise. *hands the artwork back to my mother while we wait our turn* When it’s our turn, the handler leans down on the table to watch Jensen’s face. And then: Mom (to Jensen): *not yet showing him the artwork, pointing to me* She’s waiting to see your reaction to this. Jensen: I have to warn you, I’m not a very reactive person. Mom: *slides him the artwork* Jensen: *stares at the artwork for like thirty solid seconds while making his Grumpy!Ackles-trying-not-to-laugh-because-he’s-pretending-to-disapprove face.* *studies the artwork some more* Me: *starting to get nervous that we’re seriously holding up the line* Misha left a note for you at the bottom there. Jensen: *head still down, trying not to laugh* Mom: *hands him the fine-tipped pen* Would you sign your censor bar? Now this whole time I’m elbows down on the table watching his face because he still hasn’t picked his head up, and he’s just all pursed lips/suppressed smiles/eye crinkles and I’M DYING. So he signs the censor bar very, very carefully, and starts to pass the art back to me, and then changes his mind and pulls it back and writes #snag on it and promptly LOSES HIS SHIT. At which point I also lose my shit (and so do all the volunteers around the table, as it’s now been like a full minute and nobody’s even pretended to try to move us along because everyone’s so fucking amused by this), because he was trying so hard not to break and he just couldn’t hold it in and it was fucking GLORIOUS. So he finally hands it back to me and he’s still chuckling and grinning huge at me and we thank him and he thanks us and off I go to look up whatever the fuck #snag means because apparently I am old and have no fucking idea. Urban dictionary tells me it’s either Australian slang for “sausage” or Native American slang for hooking up, and really either one works, but now I wish I’d asked him what he’d meant. Imma guess “sausage” :-p And Scout is my roommate at this con so I showed it to her and told her what happened and her reaction was glorious too. Anyway that is the story of how I and also how Scout both died at SPN NOLA. Just adding that “SNAG” here is probably “shower not a grower.” -- source link