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dean sniffles

May 2016

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dean vision

S7 Finale Meme!





I liked the finale! I liked it a lot. Dean making inappropriate nun jokes! Cas and his baggie of honey! Bobby's farewell! The Impala stripteeeease! And then that tantalizing ending, with Dean in purgatory and Sam carefully not losing his shit.

I love Sam and I felt for him, and there's a ton of h/c potential for him in that episode of course, but I'm all about the Dean h/c, and so that's what this meme is about. And there are so many ways that Dean could need h/c in relation to purgatory! SO MANY WAYS. LET'S FIND THEM ALL. And what about his Bobby feelings? And look how Cas is there to love him up, but so is Sam, and so are Crowley and Meg and his baaaby.

Let us go forth and explore.


RULES:

1. This is a Dean h/c meme, so Dean needs to be on the receiving end of h/c somewhere in your prompt. Sam can have sad times too, but not to the point where they overshadow Dean's. The prompts should also relate to the S7 finale in some way. ETA: Sam girls, kate_mct is hosting a both-boys meme!

2. No spoilers please for episodes that haven't aired! I'm a giant spoilerphobe.

3. Comment on this post to make your prompt. You can make as many prompts as you want. One prompt per comment please.

4. When you fill a prompt, please reply to the prompt-comment and put "FILLED" in your subject line. (Yay, we have subject lines! Thanks to geckoholic, nwspaprtaxis and maypoles for the tech support!)

5. Multiple fills for a single prompt are more than OK!

6. There's no max/min length for a fic.

7. If you have a preference when it comes to gen/het/slash, please say so in your prompt. (If you fill a prompt for nwspaprtaxis, which you totally should because her birthday is this week, she always wants gen and always forgets to say!)

8. You can stick to Supernatural canon or you can go crack fic, crossover, AU, etc. - whatever makes you happy.

9. Art submissions are (extremely) allowed - manips, vids, sketches, paintings, picspams, etc.

10. Anonymous posting is enabled, so you don't need an LJ account to play, but due to past flamey badness, anonymous comments will be screened, so there'll be a bit of a delay between when you post an anonymous comment and when that comment becomes visible to everyone. Also you can totally log out of your LJ account to post incognito.

11. Feedback on the fics is extremely welcome! But please make sure any crit you leave is constructive. No flaming.

12. Feel free to pimp us out with that form up there.

13. If you have any questions, PM me.

14. Have fun! You have to. It's a rule.

Masterlist

Comments

Dean gets back from purgatory all muddy and ragged and sick and hurt. Sam is SO RELIEVED TO SEE HIM. He's the best and most wonderful caretaker ever and there are hugs and storybooks and maybe Sam plays the banjo for him and it's amazing, and when Dean recovers he's like, this more nuzzly, huggy version of himself, in a good way.
and maybe Sam plays the banjo for him

Wut
See... because... I was looking at a screecap of Rufus' cabin and I noticed there was a chair pulled up to the bed, and a big cozy fireplace, and that the bed was so liiiittle, so I mentioned it and then tifaching was like, "Rufus probably left some stuff there from his childhood, like Dr. Seuss books which Sam could sit in the chair and read to Dean," and then I got it in my head that there could also be an abandoned Rufus!banjo, and that Sam could sit in the chair and play Led Zeppelin in bluegrass form, and I can't shake the cuuuuuute.
I like the banjo. Sam could do a bluegrass version of One Fish Two Fish. Or, you know, Led Zepplin.
OMG BLUEGRASS ONE FISH TWO FISH. PLEASE WORLD YES.
Good grief.

So probably not like this, eh?

I'm picturing Sam playing it and Dean being freaked out...I dunno, my brain obviously went somewhere else.

(Also this is sort of...amazing.
I picture Sam's banjo playing being much more emo. And Dean would still be horrified.

LOL for the Iron Man one. I think my favorite part was the electricity going into the body.
Yeah, I'm sort of envisioning Dean trying to, like, crawl away or stuff the pillow in his ears or something. And Sam carrying on obliviously... (glad I'm not the only one who went there)
OMG, "Iron Man"! YES. YES THAT. EXACTLY EXACTLY THAT.
If you get a chance click on the vid of the Ukrainian folk version of 'Highway to Hell.'

No really. Do it.
THIS IS MAKING ME SO HAPPY INSIDE
That one is seriously hilarious.
Hmm, embedding links makes comments get marked as spam, eh? Pfah.

It's a good song anyway.
Silly LJ!

I'm going out for a couple hours, but then I'm coming back to follow those links!
I would not object! But really it could be anywhere. ANYWHERE.


And maybe he never really fully recovers so they have to settle down, and Sam provides regular cuddling when Dean's feeling under the weather.
OOH YES. That both (a) is adorable and (b) introduces conflict into my embarrassingly happy prompt.

FILL: Untitled (1/3)

#5 of my fic Five Times Sam Played With Dean's Hair, posted here.


It was a little amazing how well Dean had adapted to domestic life. They'd kept the apartment Sam had rented when he'd first gotten Dean out. After eight months, when they'd realized that Dean had recovered as much as he was going to and that hunting was just not in the equation anymore, it just hadn't made sense to move. It was a duplex, but nobody lived in the other half and rent was ridiculously cheap (because this was Bobby's old town and they had long memories). Sheriff Mills (“Call me Jody”) came by every other day to check up on them and lately to trade gossip. Sam hadn't been 'in the loop' since Stanford, and it felt good. Familiar, almost. Dean had taken to lounging on a lawn chair out front, where he could hear the odd child playing and middle aged women could come up and coo over him (he was one of the ones that stopped the apocalypse, after all, a bona fide war hero). And Dean loved it. Always had, really, when he was too sick or out of it to remember that cuddling wasn't manly. Now he beamed that new smile he had whenever anyone came over, and let them rearrange pillows and fetch him water and generally wait on him the way Sam had stopped doing weeks ago. And if Sam hovered near the doorway and watched them a little too intently while they were near his brother, well. Dean seemed to like that now, too.

He slept a lot now. Ever since Sam first ripped a whole in the world to drag his brother out, dirty and feverish and the clinging to Sam like his life depended on it, Dean had spent most of his time sleeping. Sam was almost disappointed. He'd had seven months to prepare for a post-Purgatory Dean and he hadn't wasted it. For the first time in years there was no demon, no apocalypse, no imminent destruction hovering over their heads. They had time to just rest. And no way Dean was going to convince Sam he was fine; not this time. A month before he'd perfected the ritual, he'd Dean-proofed the entire apartment and prepared arguments for why they shouldn't just take off. He had beef and fries and milkshakes ready if Dean came back hungry and in need of normal. Soup and crackers if he couldn't keep those down. He'd spent two weeks hunting down just the type of mattress and sheet material that Dean liked best, and cleared an area of the bedroom in case Dean wasn't up to sleeping on a bed right at first – he remembered survival training one summer just out of middle school when their dad had dropped them both off in a forest and told them he'd be back in three months. For weeks Sam had daydreamed about collapsing into a soft, clean bed, yet when Dad finally picked them up in mid-August the motel beds had seemed wrong.

He and Dean had both come back from Hell totally unmarked physically, but Sam didn't know if the rules were different for Purgatory. At the very least Dean's body was in their with him, and Sam's ritual didn't come with a healing factor. So he raided a couple of hospitals across the northern states. Set up an IV line, heart monitor, proper suture kit, and about 50 different kinds of drugs. Jodi knew at last one doctor who did good work and didn't ask questions. Just in case. He bought a bookshelf just to hold all of the psych 101 books he'd bought, on trauma and repression and anything else that looked remotely relevant. Some of them were almost falling apart from frequent use. Some were hardly touched, or had been thrown at a wall a few times, or had sent him to Jodi in hysterics about how completely screwed they both were. He'd soundproofed every room in the house because he knew nightmares better than anyone else and Dean wouldn't want the neighbours privy to his.

Re: FILL: Untitled (1/3)

LJ thought this part was spam for some reason. Silly LJ. It sees things my way now.

FILL: Untitled (2/3)

(I'm not sure if 1/3 is being displayed?)

But when he'd actually pulled Dean out, Dean had wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and he hadn't let go until they were solidly on Earth again. Then he'd pulled back and stared at Sam's face, and when Sam had asked “Dean?” quietly he'd started crying. And then he'd slept, one hand still wrapped firmly around Sam's sleeve, and Sam had taken his first good look at him. Started the familiar routine of checking his brother down for injuries, cataloging new scars with forced detachment. (He'd freaked out later, retreating to the bathroom the minute Dean was willing to let Sam out of his sight and just shaking until the thought of what Dean had been through no longer made him want to throw up.) Dean had been healthy, considering. Still was. He wasn't thin, his colour was good, and he hadn't come back with any unhealed wounds. But on the right side of his face his skin was angry red and leathery. The scar went from the edge of Dean's lips up to his temple, and disappeared around the side of his head. Sam had tipped Dean's head gently to follow it and run his fingers lightly over the ruined mess of Dean's right ear. There was no opening anymore that Sam could see; just a mess of tissue sticking out from the side of his head. There were more red spots along the back of Dean's neck and around to his left ear, but nothing as big. He had a new scar that snaked around his waist and both of his thumbs looked like they'd been broken once, for the first time since Hell.

Dean was deaf now. The morning after Dean came back Sam had woken up to Dean's face just inches from his, just staring. He'd found a grin (which wasn't hard: Dean was back) and asked if there was something on his face. Dean had blown out a breath and looked so damn accepting that Sam had known. But that was still okay. Dean could have come back with two broken arms and legs and needed to be carried everywhere, and Sam wouldn't have had a problem with that. (He had four wheelchair models picked out that Dean might like, along with a kickass cane and books on sign language and braille, because he'd been picking up supplies one day two and a half months ago and he'd suddenly had a feeling). So he hadn't said a word that morning and he hadn't pushed when Dean never tried to speak (he could imagine how weird that would feel, with no sound). Sam had shown him his books on sign language and Dean had rolled his eyes like he didn't know why he put up with this geekishness. But he'd taken them and Sam caught him reading them in the evenings when things were quiet. Two weeks in Sam had given away the little stereo the apartment had come with and bought a huge sound system with bass support, and he'd blasted Metallica loud enough that you could feel the music through the floor. Dean had stared at it for five full seconds and then he'd grinned, really grinned, for the first time in years, and pulled Sam in for a hug (another one of his favourite things nowadays).

Re: FILL: Untitled (3/3)

It had taken Sam three days to realize that the reason Dean kept walking close to walls and leaning on chairs and tabletops was because his sense of balance was off, and then it had only seemed natural to offer his arm for support. Dean grabbed at any excuse for contact these days.

Sam didn't know what had happened in Purgatory to make Dean so touch-starved, but a hundred and fifty years in a cage with Lucifer meant he could guess. Or maybe it was just the aftermath – needing to be grounded in a world that had no sound anymore and tilted without warning. The reason didn't really matter. What mattered was that Dean was alive and Sam was alive, and they were together. Truth be told, Sam's favourite moments nowadays were the quiet evenings curled up on the couch with Dean's head in Sam's lap watching some corny movie, with the sound muted and Dean's hands lazily dubbing over dialogue. And maybe if anyone saw them it might look less innocent than it was. Times like these, Dean's face finally smoothed out, totally content like he hadn't been since a fire had taken away everything (almost everything) good in their lives- Sam didn't really care what anyone else thought of them.

They were happy. Sometimes Sam had to stop in the middle of something and just look, and try to take that in. They were happy. And for the moment, they were also safe.

Re: FILL: Untitled (3/3)

Giiirl, you are rocking my world! Dean getting fussed over by admiring neighbours, and loving it... Dean grinning his face off when Sam blasts the bassy Metallica for him... cuddly Dean ASL-ing along with movies. Adorable, adorable.

I hug you I hug you. ♥

Re: FILL: Untitled (3/3)

HE'S JUST SO HAPPY <3 This one is my favourite of all the prompts I've been working on recently.

Dean grinning his face off when Sam blasts the bassy Metallica for him

I prefer CD music over live concerts in every way except that I love the bass vibrations you get in indoor concerts. Dean would totally love them too if he couldn't get his classic rock fix the usual way.

♥ I HUG YOU BACK.