By that, I mean buddies who like Supernatural with me; I don't mean I hang out with ghouls and vampires.
Although ... there was that guy from Woking ...
Anyway, I digress.
The lovely Vanessa Sgroi who is a veritable fiction factory for Supernatural wrote this amazing, creepy, hilarious, and everso slightly disturbing birthday fic for me.
Do pop on over and take a look - I like to share the love :)
Injuries the brothers can cope with; illness, trauma, PSTD? They've done it all with knobs on.
But this? Well ...
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I've said it before; they should be very thankful about that ...
Genre: Humour/Hurt Comfort
Warnings: no spoilers, a few mildly naughty words
Word Count: 9,000
Link to my fic on FF.net - enjoy :)
Prepare to be drabbled!
Disclaimer: Not mine :(
RAY OF SUNSHINE
Genre: Family/ Humour
DEMONS I GET
Spoilers for 7.10/7.11
ALL YOU CAN EAT
This is a tale of hurt and comfort pure and simple.
It is a tale of inner-strength, of family, of love, of despair, of patience, of taking it one step at a time …
… and of wrenches.
The brothers have dealt with a lot, coped with a lot over the years. How will they cope with the most devastating injury that either of them has ever sustained?
Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Humour ... bit of everything really. Rated T for the odd naughty word and bears no particular resemblance to canon.
Step this way to find Bambi at my FF.net account ...
PUTTING IT OFF
genre: Hurt Comfort
Word Count: 800 approx
The boys return from a hard and damaging hunt. Dean needs some help; he doesn't want it.
Sorry guys, but it seems Lj cuts aren't working today, shock horror!
"Dean, how long you gonna be in there?" Sam yelled irritably at the locked bathroom d
The response was an agitated snort; "keep your friggin' hair o …" the words snapped into a grunted hiss of pain.
'Just taking a leak' Dean had said; since when did 'just taking a leak' take fifteen goddamn minutes?
When you're trying to do it with one arm, that's when.
When you're delaying an unpleasant inevitable, that's when.
Eventually, after Sam had paced up and down huffing impatiently, examined the blossoming bruise on his cheekbone, changed his socks and brewed a cup of coffee, there came a protracted fumbling with the bolt which heralded a hesitant opening of the bathroom door.
Dean stood in the doorway, partially silhouetted against the stark lighting behind him.
Listing pitifully to starboard, his pale face was beaded with sweat, his right arm cradled protectively against his chest.
Sam put his mug down on the table beside him.
"C'mon dude, sooner we do this, sooner it's over."
Dean gave a shuddering sigh and trudged grumpily across to sit on the chair that Sam was gesturing to. As he began to lower his rump into it he hesitated, rising again; "Uh, I'll just make m'self a coffee.
Standing behind him, Sam pushed him back down into the chair.
"Dean, quit stallin'; do you want me to reset that dislocated shoulder or not?"
Dean bristled "stow your naggin' bitch, I'm not stallin'."
Yeah, snorted Sam, that's why you've been locked in the bathroom for half an hour.
Dean spun round to glare at his brother over the back of the chair, letting out an involuntary yelp of pain in the process; "you try havin' a leak when you've only got one workin' hand …" he snorted, voice heavy with insulted indignation.
Sam shook his head with an exasperated smile, grasping Dean by his uninjured shoulder and ignoring the flinch that resulted.
There was a barely perceptible nod, followed by a laboured swelling of the chest around a deep, shuddering breath.
"Right, lets do this."
Sam brought his hand across to rest flat on the back of Dean's injured shoulder, cringing as he felt the defined ridge caused by the displaced joint.
Dean winced and tried to shrink away from the touch.
"Well, friggin' get on with it," Dean snapped, wiping his brow with his good hand.
"I will, if you'd just keep still."
Dean muttered assorted expletives under a deep breath as his jaw clenched resolutely.
Sam's hand wormed it's way up under the arm clamped across Dean's chest and his hand balled into a fist, pressing up, deep into Dean's armpit.
"Dean …for Heaven's sake!"
"Jus' do it …"
Sam braced and leaned into Dean's back; "one…"
Dean took another deep breath; "I hate you so much."
"Sure you do … two …" Sam smiled, flat hand pressing hard against Dean's sweat dampened T shirt.
Dean clenched his teeth waiting for three.
Sam jerked, thrusting his fist up into the hot, clammy nook under Dean's arm, and punched the joint back into the socket with a sickening crunch.
The violence with which Dean's head snapped back, eyes squeezed closed, yawning a gaping howl which was either silent or beyond the range of human hearing shocked even Sam, who stumbled backwards with a start.
Lurching forward, Dean looked for all the world like he was about to recycle everything he'd eaten in the last week, before the convulsing heaves levelled into harsh panting breaths.
By the time Dean opened his eyes, blinking back a haze of tears, Sam was kneeling on the floor in front of him.
He was answered with a nod. "Yeah, thanks ... I think."
Dean sat up and timidly massaged the offending joint, experimentally wiggling the fingers of his right hand.
A mug of coffee appeared in front of him and he took it with muttered thanks, shakily wiping his tearing eyes with the heel of his free hand.
"Wasn't so bad …" he grumbled as he took in a long, comforting sip of the hot drink
Sam grinned; "'course it wasn't Dean!"
Just asking, but does anyone want to see our lovely Winchester Boys happy, and having lots of fun?
Do you want to see ...
Happy 'big-kid' Dean?
Boys wearing very little clothing?
A wee bit of angstiness?
scardey Dean on a plane?
Some Supernatural shenanigans?
A little bit of sick and hurty Dean?
A little bit of caring and awesome Sam?
Worried, protective Bobby?
An inflatable dolphin?
If you do, follow the link below to my latest story, 'Wish You Were Here', on Fanfic.net. If you don't, um ... well, just ignore me then!
Rating: T for some sauciness, non-graphic nudity and a few naughty words
Genre: humour/family/mild angst/some hurt/comfort
Word count: 33,000
AN EXPOSEE OF FAERIES - NASTY LITTLE BUGGERS ...
Spoilers for 6.09 - Clap Your Hands If You Believe
This is an idea that has been floating around in my poor addled head ever since the first announcement that the boys would be doing battle with faeries in episode 6.09, and that they would be dealing with 'real' faeries; the malign, sinister creatures of ancient lore, not the pink, sparkly, vomit-inducing things of Disney movies and Enid Blyton books.
Tom Matthews, my OC who has previously been seen in my stories 'Dry' and 'Hair of the Dog' makes an appearance in this story. A word on Tom, for those who have not met him: Bobby describes him as an old friend, a Doctor who runs an 'off the books' clinic looking after hunters. He is short and plump with expressive dark brown eyes. In their first meeting when Dean was, once again in bad straights, Sam liked him and trusted him on sight.
I've rated this M because this story contains details of a non-consensual sexual act. If this sort of thing troubles you, PLEASE DO NOT READ, I have no wish to offend.
Oh, and it's AU, so Sam is not soulless.
Anyway, moving swiftly on …… when the faeries abducted Dean, and he fought his way back - what if they really - I mean, really - liked what they saw?
THE DARKEST REALM
Word Count: approx 29,000
Disclaimer: I don't own them and that is proof, if it were needed, that life just isn't fair!
SEEING AS LJ CUT IS BEING *!!*?**/&* RETARDED AT THE MOMENT, HERE IS THE LINK TO THE STORY ON MY FANFIC.NET ACCOUNT!
I have a lovely older cousin who I admire enormously.
She is an oncological nurse and sees enough crappy stuff during the course of her working life to make a jellyfish like me break into a million tear stained snotty pieces at the first sight of some poor little bald headed poppet hooked up to a drip stand.
However, my point is (because there is one, believe it or not) that we were having an increasingly outrageous conversation, over a bottle (or two) of New Zealand's finest, about medical matters in general and she told me that big tough men were by far the worst babies when it came to painful pointy medical procedures.
This was all I needed to give me an idea ... and thus this little one-shot was born :)
A HELPING HAND
Word Count: Approx 300
AU - Dean's recently diagnosed diabetic. His new diagnosis means learning some new, difficult skills.
( A Helping Hand )
I'm not entirely sure where my mind was at the weekend, but if the drabbles I wrote were anything to go by, I would say there should have been a three mile exclusion zone around it for health and safety purposes.
Needless to say that my two lovely boys didn't do too well out of it :)
See for yourself ...
Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did, blah blah
KING OF HELL
I bring you a 200-word excusion into the wit and wisdom of everyone's favourite arch-demon, scheming liar, double-crossing snake and all round smart-arse.
Vague spoilers for 6.22 - 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'.
Rating: T for some disturbing imagery
Word Count: 200
( The King of Hell )
Hell is many things, but above all it is an assault on the senses.
Rating: T for some disturbing Imagery
Word Count: 100
( Five Senses )
I've recently been having a little sort out of all my fics over on FF.net, and I found this little nugget from long ago which I don't believe has ever made it over here.
This story, Dry, was my first attempt at a multi-chapter h/c case fic, and introduced my OMC, Tom Matthews who was later seen in 'Hair of the Dog' which did make it over to this neck of the woods.
So here goes, for your delectation, I present scared Dean; scared, tummy rubbing Sam and awesome Bobby.
Word Count: approx 10,000
The boys investigate a series of mysterious deaths in a small midwest town, but Dean's desire to avenge the victims lands him in dire straights.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of any interest.
Watching the Eurovision Song Contest has sort of put me in mind of terrifying near death experiences, and so I felt compelled to put my muse to work to prevent my brain from liquefying and oozing out of my ears (I don't want any stains on the couch).
So without more ado, those boys are in a bit of a pickle ... will they escape or won't they?
In face, it's a bit of a ...
Rating: T for a couple of naughty words
Word Count: approx 850
Disclaimer: don't own them, however much I wish.
( Cliffhanger )
With all the excitement of the upcoming western episode in the air I was inspired to write about Winchesters on horseback ...
So step this way for Sam being clever, Dean being obnoxious, adorable horses, a chupacabra, bucketloads of angst, Bobby being awesome, oh ... and a coconut.
A FOUR LEGGED FRIEND
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humour
Word Count: approx 22,500
A Chupacabra hunt deep in the mountains proves to be a challenging time for the boys, not least of all getting there in the first place ...
Disclaimer: Don't own the boys, want, but can't have.
Sitting here watching the news, listening to politicians blathering on; is it any wonder I'm preoccupied with grubby, slimy things?
So herewith, Sam, Dean and ... something slimy.
Word count: approx 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing, only my own disturbed mind
( Something Slimy )
I wanted to challenge myself.
Well, I had nothing better to do ... so - do I run a marathon? do I learn a foreign language? do I travel the world on the back of a donkey?
I know - I'll write a really dark and angsty torture-fic. Exactly what any well adjusted, mentally stable individual would do.
So herewith ...
Someone - or something - is scaring people to death in New York; Bobby's on the case, but opinion is divided on whether or not he needs the Winchesters' help. But those boys; they just won't take no for an answer …
I have based this fic very loosely around one of London's most famous ghost stories; that of the fatally hideous spirit of number fifty, Berkeley Square. I have used the most basic details of the story, and embellished, warped and fiddled with them for my own nefarious purposes!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural, although my passport photo is a bit creepy …
Genre: H/C Angst (little bits of humour)
Word Count: 28,500
( Number Fifty - Chapters 1 - 5 of 15 )
An oft-used phrase which could apply to any number of instances from the worst kind of global catastrophe to my attempt to cook lasagne yesterday evening (heck, the smell of smoke does linger doesn't it?)
In Dean's case, it could describe, say, being trapped in a small cramped aircraft with no pilot hurtling to oblivion in the middle of the Mohave Desert ...
... read on :)
(Posted at Hoodie_Time)
Genre: Hurt comfor/Angst
Word Count: approx 15,000
A mystrious disaster en-route to a far flung hunt tests Dean to the very edge of his physical and psychological limits; but is this all down to fate? Winchester luck? Or are there darker forces at work? Later on in the story there will be slight, non-specific spoilers for various season 5 goings-on.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, wished upon a star. Didn't work!
Chapters 1 - 4
Chapters 5 - 8