Challenge 2: A Dean-focused SCHMOOPFEST! (fic and/or art accepted) / GENERAL INFO & RULES

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

A Dean-focused
SCHMOOPFEST!

PIMP IT!
<center><img src=" http://i636.photobucket.com/albums/uu86/water_curses/mysteryspot-2-1.jpg"> <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/hoodie_time/157348.html"><font color="#ff00ff"><b><font size="+2">A Dean-focused SCHMOOPFEST!</font></b></center>

The Basics:

I think we could all use a little schmoop this hiatus! So, for the month of June, from today up to and including June 30th, I challenge you to write a fic or create a piece of art featuring one (or more, if you’re extra-crafty) of the following schmoopy prompts - with Dean as the one getting all schmooped up, of course.

Schmoop is the name of the game, so your fic/art does not have to include sick!Dean or any kind of hurt/comfort - it’s optional. (Albeit extremely awesome.)

This is a very easygoing challenge, and is done a bit differently than our other challenges in that you can participate anonymously if you'd prefer. I know some people are embarrassed by their schmoopy tendencies. ;D Whatever for, I do not know.

Schedule:

Posting period

June 1st through to June 30th, submissions to be linked or posted right here in this post (+ directly to the comm if you'd like!)

Prompts:

Prompt #1: hugs/cuddling

Prompt #2: bed-sharing

Prompt #3: Dean wearing Sam’s hoodie!

Prompt #4: clothes-sharing (i.e.; Dean wearing Castiel’s trenchcoat, pre-series fic with Dean wearing daddy Winchester’s leather coat, or any other variation of clothes-sharing you can think of.)

How this is going to work:

Before we get started: Anonymous posting is enabled and IP tracking is off in case you’re embarrassed by your schmoopy tendencies. Seriously, feel free to be RIDICULOUSLY schmoopy – it’s good for you.

01. There's no need to sign up for this challenge. If you choose to participate, you will have the month of June to write/create art for any of the above schmoopy prompts. Your fics may be full-length or comment-fic length. You can comment to this post with a link to your submission on your journal, or you can comment to this post with your submission in the comments the way you would a comment-fic. If you go longer than one comment, you can reply to your original comment until you have finished posting. And if you choose to post your submission to the comm at any time, that’s great too. Please see what tags are suitable to use in the FAQ, below.

02. People can follow this post and give you love.

03. At the beginning of next month I’ll make a new post with the hopefully schmoop-filled masterlist!

Posting:

All I ask is that when you comment to this post with your fic/art/whatever, you put your title, (if you have one) what prompt you chose, the genre/pairing; e.g.; gen or Sam/Dean, etc., and spoilers (if applicable) in your subject line - or, if there isn't enough room, in the first line of your comment. Please make sure anything porny is clearly marked as such as well, and adhere to LJ's TOS when posting images.

See guideline #1 for more info on posting.

FAQ:

Here are the answers to some questions you may have about the challenge (including a definition of schmoop if anyone is unclear on that.) Feel free to PM me or e-mail me at hoodietime [at] gmail [dot] com if you have any others.

--> Schmoop is generally categorized as fic/art with minimal angst, the kind that gives you that “awwww” feeling. But no worries - nothing will be turned away for not being schmoopy enough or whatever. I know a prompt can run away with a writer and I think it’s great when it does. So angst is fine as well as pure angstless fluff, but as a general rule the comfort should overwhelm the angst in the end.

--> No, your fic/art for this challenge does not have to include sick!Dean or any kind of hurt/comfort, although it would certainly be appreciated.

--> All genres and pairings are loved and accepted here, however this is not an RPF comm. Fictional characters only, please.

--> Fics can be as short or as long as you’d like, and WIPS are fine.

--> Yes, any type of art that fits a prompt is awesome also. Drawings, icons, picspams, etc. - it's all good!

--> You can submit as many entries as you want.

--> As I said above, anonymous posting is enabled and IP tracking is off, so don’t be scared to be as schmoopy as possible!

--> There will be no extensions for this challenge. Entries are due anytime up to and including June 30th. If your submission is posted/linked in the comments to this post by June 30th, you can use the .challenge 2 tag whenever you post, before of after the challenge is over. If you write any fics/have art for this challenge after that date, it won’t be part of the masterlist, but please use our new .amnesty tag and post it to the comm anyway. We’d LOVE to see it whenever!

Okay! Let’s whip up some schmoop!

ETA: The schmoopfest masterlist is now up HERE. Check it out!

➽ This post was compiled by maypoles and is posted under this account for organizational purposes.

Comments

[ratherastory.livejournal.com]

*resists bravely for about three seconds*

Oh, who am I kidding?

HAHAHA

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

♥

[raloria.livejournal.com]

This is very tempting. In fact, I got an idea for a little fic last night when I went to bed that would qualify for this. I've never done a challenge before though. *iz nervous*

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Eeeee. Well, I think you should do it! ;D It's a super easy-going challenge, so I think it would be a good intro to the world of challenges.

::PEER PRESSURE::

[zoemathemata.livejournal.com]

Oh! Schmoop challenge! SO EXCITED. I love Schmoop!

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

I know, right? Nomnomnom.

[running-hot.livejournal.com]

I wanna just be really super nice to wee!Dean and make up for all the angst I've written in my lifetime.

WAIT. EXCELLENT IDEA APPROACHING. Now I must go write.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Hee, awesome. I love it already. ::smishes wee!Dean::

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

Ha! Schmoop! I can do this! Oh, yes. Dean and schmoop!

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Hee, awesome!

"A Promise", Prompt 1, Sam/Dean or Gen

[starryfif2.livejournal.com]

Apparently having an argument with my boyfriend makes me want to write about Dean suffering in his sleep from memories of hell while Sam holds him. This is set, obviously, early season four, after “Lazarus Rising”.

Dean's been back from Hell five days. Sam can hardly believe it. Four months of pain and suffering, of wondering what torments his brother's suffered all for Sam, and now he's back. The hand-print from an angel of all things, is seared into his brother's shoulder, raised red and angry, and Sam can still hardly believe he's here.

Sam kneels beside his brother's bed, silent, his eyes fixed on his brother's form. His eyes track over his brother's body, noting his sunken eyes, his pale face, the sweat beading his brow. Dean is hunched in on himself, his limbs folded close to his body. The way Dean is laying makes Sam think of a small child trying to hide from its punishment. All Dean needs to do is curl into a ball, and he fits the part.

A small noise escapes Dean's lips. Sam wouldn't have even heard the sound if he weren't kneeling so close to Dean. Sam watches, horrified, as Dean's body shakes. Another moan---no, Sam can't deny the noise for what it is----a CRY falls from Dean's lips.

Sam's heart stops for one beat, before it begins thumping a wild tempo. The second cry seems to have opened the floodgate, and Sam is frozen, frozen, as Dean begins to thrash and twitch, his hands curled into fists, tears rolling down each cheek. An agonized scream escapes from between clenched lips and Dean's whole body clenches tight before he collapses back onto the bed, tears falling faster.

Dean's words spur Sam into action. With Dean's “No, you're hurting me!” ringing in his ears, and the terrible knowledge that Dean is remembering something truly awful making his heart race, there is no power strong enough on this earth capable of making Sam stay still.

Dean wakes just as Sam finishes curling his lanky body around his brother. He stiffens as he realizes someone is pressed against him, but he calms after Sam smooths shaking fingers through his hair. Sam knows that if Dean weren't half asleep and disoriented from his memories he'd never allow Sam to comfort him like this. He would never let Sam hold him.

“You're going to be okay Dean. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you.” Sam vows, and he means it. He'll do everything in his power to repay his brother for bringing him back, for suffering unimaginable agonies for him. But most of all, he'll keep his promise because it's Dean and there's nothing he won't do for his brother.

Sam pulls Dean even closer to him, wraps his arms even tighter around his brother, and kisses his cheek. His promise burns nova bright in his mind, mixed with his love for Dean. He continues to rock Dean in his arms, keeping him safe. Letting him feel how much Sam loves him.

It is enough, for now.

Re: "A Promise", Prompt 1, Sam/Dean or Gen

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Awwww, I wish post-hell!Dean had gotten some cuddles like this on the show.

Also, this is our first entry, woo hoo!

[shyriann.livejournal.com]

This is so unfair... I have other fics to be working on!
** runs off to whip up something (hopefully) short.**

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

YAYYY.

[auroraprimavera.livejournal.com]

*is tempted*

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Do ittttt. ;D

[wave-obscura.livejournal.com]

This is challenge 2? What's challenge 1? God, I'm so out of the loop :(:(:(:(:(:(:(:( It took me until JUST NOW to realize what comm I was on, haha.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Haha, challenge 1 was the Dean-focused h/c fic challenge! I just went back and changed the tags accordingly so that all the challenges will be alphabetized and easy to find in the future, so that's why you didn't know.

[anastdean.livejournal.com]

Oh hey I like this. I don't know what I'll do.
If it's a story or a picspam with all the hugs and touches and and comforting moments we'll see.
By the way would a picspam like I described above work?
Of course I'll pimp at my next post.
Dean cuddling, is my favorite.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

A picspam would definitely work, sure. ;)

And thanks in advance for the pimp!

Delivery (part 1) -- Prompt 3 and bonus Prompt 1 -- Gen

[de-nugis.livejournal.com]

********* Spoilers for 5.22 **************

When he and Lisa had agreed it was better to part ways and he had drifted back into hunting, Dean had meant to drift back into drinking, too. After all, no more need to remember that there was a kid in the house. His first week on the road out from Cicero he went through a bottle a night, knocking the liquor back grimly until he couldn’t see the garish decor of the motel rooms or hear Sam’s voice making fun of it. Or Sam’s voice being its pain-in-the-ass self, insisting he’d had enough. Sam wasn’t there. He didn’t get a vote.

There were other votes, though. The night Dean’s shot went wild and the werewolf had time to take down some poor, terrified, business-suited sod before Dean’s hands were steady enough to aim again he’d puked behind a dumpster and gone back to the motel room and emptied the Jack Daniels down the sink before puking again. He might have no compelling reason to live, but he wasn’t entitled to take anyone else down with him.

So he went on. Saving people, hunting things. Not the family business any more. Just Dean, not knowing what else to do with his sorry life.

Most nights he still wishes he could crawl back into a bottle. Right now, washed up at the Super 8 in scenic Meridian, Mississippi, he’d be content to skip the alcohol and take a blow to the head. He’d bruised his face up nicely and cracked two ribs against a tombstone during last night’s salt and burn, and wrapping them himself had been a bitch. Painkillers have taken the edge off and pizza is on its way, but he needs something to get through another evening of nagging discomfort and meaningless reruns and a pristine second bed.

There’s a liquor store just down the road.

In the end he walks past the driver’s door of the Impala and opens the trunk. Between the guns and the knives is the duffel he never carries into motel rooms any more. He unzips it, bending with a grunt of pain to catch the almost-faded scent of Sam, and digs around until he finds one of those freakishly oversized hoodies. This shitty motel’s stupid AC is stuck on arctic; he just needs another layer. Anyway, not like there’s anyone here to see him. He pulls on the hoodie on his way back into the room, wincing again as he wrestles his arms into the too long sleeves. Fucking sasquatch.

He turns on the TV and piles up the pillows from both beds and sticks his hand in the hoodie’s pocket. It brushes against a crumpled piece of paper and he fishes it out, smoothing it carefully on the bedside table. Just some quick note from Hell. Wish you were here. He’s not going to read it.

Re: Delivery (part 2 of 2) -- Prompt 3 and bonus Prompt 1 -- Gen

[de-nugis.livejournal.com]

He’s reading it for the third time when someone knocks. Crap. Now some pizza guy is going to catch Dean Winchester in a tent-sized hoodie, sobbing his eyes out over a gas station receipt with “Doritos, ammo, sage, aspirin, laundry detergent, gauze” on the back in Sam’s stupid illegible handwriting.

It’s a remarkably tall pizza delivery guy. A remarkably tall, out-of-uniform pizza delivery guy. A remarkably tall, out-of-uniform pizza delivery guy with no pizza.

Dean can’t see, what with his face crushed on not-the-pizza-delivery-guy’s shoulder. And he can’t breathe, what with his cracked ribs and not-the-pizza-delivery guy’s boa-constrictor hug working on breaking a few more of them. He manages to wrench back enough to look up and drag in a breath and wheeze “Sam,” and “ribs,” and “Christo.”

Seems the second part is the only bit Sam – no, not Sam, it can’t be Sam – catches, because he frowns and unwraps his arms and pushes Dean back into the motel room and sits him on the bed so he can loom over him pissily.

“Can’t I be gone a few months without you getting yourself all banged up?” can’t-be-Sam demands, thumbing the bruises under Dean’s eye and definitely not noticing any traces of girly, plausibly deniable tears. Then he’s kneeling and working on the hoodie and shirts to get at Dean’s ribs.

“Silver,” croaks Dean, since he seems to be reduced to nouns, “holy water.”

“In a minute, Dean,” says can’t-be-Sam absently, “I’ll down as much holy water and cut myself with as many letter openers as you want, as soon as I look at these ribs.”

There doesn’t seem much point in resisting the shapeshifter or Lucifer or revenant or what-have-you. Whatever it is, it’s bossy. Dean lets his eyes close while Sam’s big hands poke gently at his ribs and then begin pulling the hoodie over his head. “I’m going to rewrap those for you,” says Sam’s voice, muffled by cloth, and then the hands stop while Dean’s head and left arm are still tangled in the fabric and Sam – no shapeshifter could duplicate that yelp of righteous outrage – says, “Hey, this is mine.”

No silver or holy water needed. Definitely Sam.

[dante-s-hell.livejournal.com]

Hey, this is a great idea! I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with. Thanks for this.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

I can't wait EITHER. ;D Schmoooop.

[mad-server.livejournal.com]

I love your brain.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Right back atcha!

...I seriously just wrote 'right back atchoo' before I fixed it.

Prompt One. Sam/Dean. No spoilers.

[(Anonymous)]

Gripping the edge of the toilet seat and emptying the contents of his stomach yet again, Dean was pretty sure that if this went on much longer, he'd start seeing vital organs come up. He hit the silver handle again and shut his eyes, trying to breathe. He hated being sick, especially with the stomach flu. Dean liked putting things into his stomach; not watching them come back up. As Dean continued to focus on his breathing, he suddenly felt a hand run up and down his back in a soothing manner. He would've bat Sam, who had been sleeping until he heard Dean retching, away, but the rhythm of his brothers hand on his back was more comforting and settling than he wanted to admit, so he left it.

After a minute, he moved away from the toilet and sat against the opposite wall. Sam sat down with him, putting an arm around him and handing him a glass of cold water, telling softly to drink slow. Dean's head ached and his hands shook as he took the glass, but he took a few sips and placed it on the counter.

"Dean, you need to drink that." Sam spoke softly, but with an authoritative tone. Dean waved a dismissive hand, and leaned back against the wall. Sam just sighed and picked the glass back up. He sat back against the wall with Dean and stroked Dean's hair with one hand, while coaxing him to take the glass with the other.

After finally getting Dean to swallow a respectable amount, he placed the glass back on the counter and then resumed his position, still stroking his brothers hair.

"Why do you this?" Dean's voice was low and scratchy, but his words came through clear.

"Do what?" Sam looked at him, slightly confused.

"This. Take care of me like this. You should've gone back to sleep." Sam was taken aback by his words and answered his question as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because I love you." Dean gave a sad little smile at his answer as he shut his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

"See, that's what I don't get." Dean spoke softly. "How can you love me, when I don't even love me?"

For a moment, Sam considered taking Dean to the hospital to check for a head injury; it was hard to believe he was talking like this, but he decided against it. If Dean wanted to know, he'd tell him.

"I love you because... you're you," Sam leaned his head against Dean's, his lips inches away from Dean's ear as he whispered. "I love you because you're everything to me, you're my life. Because I know everything there is to know about you, and you know everything about me. Because you drive me absolutely crazy, but then you redeem yourself with a single kiss. Because I know your heart, Dean, and it's beautiful." Sam lifted his hand and turned Dean's head so their foreheads were pressed together. "And if you'll just let me, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you exactly why I love you, and just how much I love you."

Dean moved just enough to bury his face in the nape of Sam's neck, his breathing deep and even. After a moment, Sam wondered if he had fallen asleep.

Then he heard quiet words that made him smile.

"I love you, too."

Re: Prompt One. Sam/Dean. No spoilers.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Yay, caretaker Sammy! ;) Thanks for writing.

Prompt #1 hugs/cuddling - Dean, Sam gen or slash, could be read either way, rating: g

[zoemathemata.livejournal.com]

A/N: have you all heard of those cow hugging machines? well, i suddenly thought of that and couldn't relax to fall asleep.

Link to my journal

Dean Winchester - Cow Boy (http://zoemathemata.livejournal.com/16904.html)

Re: Prompt #1 hugs/cuddling - Dean, Sam gen or slash, could be read either way, rating: g

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

I knew I would love this before I even read it. COW BOY.

Prompt 3, Gen, More Healing Properties of Hoodies 1/2

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

Dean comes out of the bathroom trying not to limp and cough. He reckons the limp will distract Sam from the cough, so he wobbles his way out the bathroom, hissing loudly and screwing up his face... and sees the hoodie laid out on his bed next to his sweats. He gives up the exaggerated limp and curses when he hears Sam chuckle somewhere behind him.

He half turns to scowl. “Laugh it up, Florence.” He coughs, because who gives a shit now? But he’s already shrugging off his towel and reaching for the hoodie as fast as his chilled fingers will let him.

“Shut up, drink this, and get into bed.” Sam is smiling, so Dean is going to forgive him all those orders. Especially when the kid – goddamn and bless him —has taken the whiskey from his hip flask, heated it, and added something citrusy to make up a drink for him.

It tastes better than anything in heaven ever could, so Dean pulls a face. “Gross, Sammy.” Because there is no way he’s appreciating heated herbal shit out loud.

“You’ll choke it down though, right?”

Dean smacks his lips and ignores him. Smug bastard.

More Healing Porperties of Hoodies 2/2

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

“You done?” Five minutes later and Sam is stretched out on the covers alongside him. He’s got that look on his face, the one he gets sometimes when Dean is sick. It’s fond, indulgent, and it makes Dean feel like the younger one.

“Nuh-uh. Wait.”

Dean can totally be the younger one to make Sam happy. He sucks up the last of the dregs noisily, not even pretending to find the drink anything other than just what he needed.

Sam takes the empty mug from his fingers and sets it aside. Dean tilts his head back against the headboard and looks at his brother.

“Thanks, man,” he says, his voice stronger again.

“No problem. How’re you feeling?”

Dean honestly gives it some thought. His ears hum slightly with fever, his eyes feel blurry, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to wake up tomorrow with a scratch for a voice. But there are worse things in this world than being warm and clean and having Sam make him drink things.

“Crap. But better. You know?”

Sam smiles like he does. “Yeah.”

Silence then. And it's a good one, so Dean eases himself down into the bed and the hoodie a little more. Damn, but he loves this thing. Sam starts playing with threads from one of the frayed pockets, winding them back and forth between his fingers.

“Dude, you’ll pull the pocket out,” says Dean, trying not be mesmerized by the repetitive motion of Sam’s fingers.

“Sorry,” Sam lets go, pats the threads back into the pocket and lifts up on one elbow, like he’s about to get up. And suddenly Dean doesn’t want him to.

“Why d’you keep this, Sam?” It hasn’t fitted his brother in a long, long time. Not since Sam kind of expanded to fit all the space available.

Sure enough Sam resettles on the bed. “The hoodie?”

Dean just nods, because he’s going to cough again if he speaks. He thinks he knows the answer. In fact, he’s pretty sure he does. While he would normally run a million miles from ever encouraging Sam to talk about this stuff, the fever’s got him feeling weak, Sam’s got him feeling cherished, and he’d like to give in and hear it aloud. Just this once.

“It fits you, is all. Makes you feel better.” He pauses for so long that Dean is about to nudge him with his knee from under the covers. And then Sam looks up and fixes suspiciously wet eyes on Dean. “And it’s just us, you know? From way back.”

Dean swallows. He knows. He thinks of the terrible mud which sucked at his boots, of a tent and a tiredness like no other he has felt before or since, and he thinks of a brother who simply held him up and would not take no for an answer.

So yeah, way back when is right, but it’s not only the hoodie that’s the same.

Dean does nudge him with his knee then. “Sap,” he says.

“Sap yourself, you asked, Dean.”

“I know. Must be the fever.”

A hand curls round his neck and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Ah, that explains it. Was gonna say ‘Christo’.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up. You want anything for it?”

“Yeah, I want you to get your Gigantor ass off my bed so I can sleep.”

“Bitch, bitch. I’m getting you some Tylenol anyway.” Sam continues talking as he levers himself up and walks away to find his duffel. “And no getting up at the crack of dawn to clean weapons and pack, man. Otherwise I swear, my Gigantor ass will sit on yours and fart in your face. I mean it, Dean, we have nowhere to be so you will just stay the fuck in bed and rest. You can do research, or something. And another thing, we are not...”

Dean smiles, shifts way down into the covers and turns on his side as he closes his eyes. No need to wait. A fleece-lined hoodie and Sam barking those kind of orders are better than any Tylenol at making him feel good enough to get some sleep.

Re: More Healing Porperties of Hoodies 2/2

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

"Because there is no way he’s appreciating heated herbal shit out loud." LOL Perfectly Dean. Loved the call back to Faith. I love hoodie fic so thank you for sharing!

The Only Light Prompts 1, 2 and 4 wee!chesters

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

Title: The Only Light
This works for prompts one, two and four.
Genre: wee!chesters

Dean followed on his father's heels as John carried Sammy into the boys shared bedroom at Pastor Jim's comfortable home. As John laid Sammy down in the crib that one of the Pastor's parishoners had generously loaned him he let an unaccustomed wave of gratitude wash over him. Missouri had sent him to Jim, telling him that, as both a man of faith and a hunter, the pastor was the ideal first teacher for a grieving man with two small children. Of course she hadn't put it quite that way.

"John Winchester, what are you planning on doing with those boys while you go get an education in the ways of evil?" were her exact words. John. who had had no intention of leaving his boys with anyone, had jumped on the psycic's suggestion of a well educated man of the cloth in a rural setting. He had hoped the quiet would be good for the boys, especially Dean, who was still a pale, silent shadow of his former self.

John stared down at Sam, sleeping in his crib with his baby soft hair falling over his eyes. His father sighed and brushed it back out of Sam's face. He'd have to give Sammy a haircut soon. Dean too, his hair was growing at an alarming rate. Mary had always taken care of it, but now it was another thing John was going to have to learn for his boys. Dean moved to his father's side and wrapped one arm around John's leg. John looked down and solemn green eyes stared back. Dean's eyes moved from his father to Sam and back, and John could read the question in them.

"No, tiger. You have your own bed and you need to sleep there. Sammy will be fine where he is." John closed his eyes and sighed at the panic that flared through his oldest's eyes. "He will, Dean. We're safe here." John stopped short of saying, I promise, because he knew he could promise no such thing. Not until he knew more about what was out there, about what had killed his Mary. John swung Dean up into his arms and carried him out into the living room, but he knew Dean's eyes were glued on his brother until he was out of sight.

John settled down in Jim's overstuffed easy chair and Dean shifted so he faced the door to the bedroom before snuggling against his father's chest, small head tucked beneath John's chin. John stroked Dean's back as he listened to his boy's quiet breaths.

"Did you have a good day today, Dean?" John hoped for a spoken answer, but didn't really expect one. He occasionally heard Dean murmur to Sam, but Dean wasn't ready to talk to anyone else yet. Dean shook his head and gripped his father's shirt tightly. John could feel the boy's body trembling. "Did something happen, Dean? You need to tell me if something happened." John kept his voice gentle and continued to gently rub Dean's back. The words were so softly spoken that John almost missed them.

"I miss Mommy."

Re: The Only Light Prompts 1, 2 and 4 wee!chesters

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

John's heart didn't know quite what to do with that. It wanted to leap with joy that Dean had spoken, while at the same time it was crushed by the sadness in his little boy's voice. "I know, baby. I miss her too." He sat with Dean in his arms until the boy fell asleep but Dean had said all he had to say for today.

John carried Dean to the bedroom and lay him down on his bed, hoping that tonight he'd stay there. Usually, on one of John's multiple nightly checks, Dean would have climbed into his brother's crib and would be sleeping with his arms tightly wrapped around Sammy. John would have thought a baby would object to being confined like that, but if Sammy did he showed no sign of it. John kissed Dean softly on the top of his head and pulled the covers up to his chin. "Sleep well, tiger."

Jim was out for the evening, visiting a sick parishoner, so John occupied the next few hours by studying some of the books Jim had left out for him, copying notes into a leather journal the Pastor had given him. By eleven he was rubbing his eyes, in need of a break. Jim lived in the country and John liked to go out at night and look at the stars blazing brightly in the heavens. He'd sit on the porch and stare at the twinkling lights and think of Mary. John went to the chair where he'd hung his leather jacket only to find it missing. He checked the closet in case Jim had hung it up, but it wasn't there either. Maybe he'd left it in the boys room but he didn't think so. He sighed as he walked through the door at the sight of Dean's empty bed. He walked to the crib and had to swallow past a lump in his throat for the second time that night. Dean was in the crib, of course, curled up with Sam's back to his chest. Both were fast asleep, cuddled up under John's jacket.

"Oh, Dean. Baby. I'm not going anywhere." John sat on Dean's bed and watched his boys sleep- the stars forgotten as he stared silently at the only real brightness remaining in his life.

Re: "Let Me Hold You" , Dean and Sam, Gen., Prompts #1 & #2

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

If Dean strayed more than a few inches from Sam in the last few days, Sam had been overcome with massive panic attacks. Once he had actually passed out, when Dean was feeling stubborn about returning to his emo embrace.

BEST CURSE EVER.

This is very sweet, but your formatting appears to be screwed up. Feel free to delete this comment and repost if you want, or to comment with a link to this fic elsewhere, and I'll put that version on the masterlist instead. ;)

"Let Me Hold You" , Dean and Sam, Gen., Prompts #1 & #2

[dreamlitnight.livejournal.com]

Dean surfaced slowly from the deep abyss of an all consuming slumber. He sighed softly, feeling warm and safe and content. Strong arms held him snuggly against a broad chest... What?! Flinching in surprise, he startled, realizing belatedly that he was being held by his “little” brother, again. He tried to stay very still, tried to keep his breathing slow and even, hoping that Sammy wouldn't notice that he had awakened. No such luck.

Sam's amused voice came from above Dean's head. “I know you're awake Dean. Feelin' any better?” He asked, jostling Dean a little.

“I'll feel better when this curse or whatever it is, is over.” Dean muttered.

Sam patted his shoulder lightly in reply.

Dean huffed in irritation at being soothed like a cranky toddler. Who had ever heard of a curse that made someone need to cuddle and cling to their big brother? It had to be the weirdest thing that had ever happened to them and that was saying something. If Dean strayed more than a few inches from Sam in the last few days, Sam had been overcome with massive panic attacks. Once he had actually passed out, when Dean was feeling stubborn about returning to his emo embrace. It didn't help that Bobby kept choking back laughter at the picture they made. Two overgrown men cuddled together on the spare bed. Sam even had to follow him to the bathroom and vice versa. At least he allowed the door to be shut half-way, but they had to keep talking through the door, until the other one came out. Dean was worn out with all the nonsense. He wanted Bobby to fix them.

Bobby hadn't found any information though, on what it was or how to break it. If Dean hadn't been so sick with this stupid cold or whatever it was, he probably would have fought harder against the snuggle-fest Sam kept insisting on, but it left him feeling so tired all the time, he had just given in (not gracefully of course he did have a reputation to uphold). He urged Bobby continually, to hurry up and get this figured. The older hunter had calmly told him that genius couldn't be hurried, adding a smirk before he left.

Dean jumped a little, Sam's voice breaking into his rambling thoughts. “You gonna wake up dude? The, um curse or... whatever it was, broke about half an hour ago, but well...” He paused for a moment and then added in a gentle tone. “You seemed to be comfortable... sleepin' soundly for the first time in a week and... well I was comfortable too, and you've been so sick, that I … uh... just let you sleep. Okay?” His deep voice trailed off uncertainly.

This stupid cold was really kicking his butt. Dean decided as he felt the dragging weariness rearing its head again. His hazy brain tried to process Sam's announcement. The curse was over. He could move if he wanted to. But, Dean decided that it felt kind of nice, being snuggled up to Sam's side (in a non bro-mantic sort of way when he wasn't being forced). Being hugged by Sammy was similar to cuddling with a giant kitten or something else that was cuddly and... well, giant like. He yawned sleepily, he liked kittens. Maybe he was delirious or still half asleep, things seemed kind of floaty and soft around the edges. Delirium was a good excuse for a little more cuddling.

Dean ignored his hereto policy of the no-cuddling rule and instead of struggling away, wormed his way closer to his brother's reassuringly steady heartbeat. Snuggling with his brother, his grown brother was weird. But Winchester and weird were practically synonymous, Dean reasoned. Besides, Sam was right, that was the best sleep he had had in the last week, maybe even the last month and a little more sounded pretty good.

So, he ignored the weirdness of it and embraced the comfort. Patting Sam's arm he murmured in a slightly slurred voice. “ 'Kay Sammy. I'll let you cuddle with me for just five more minutes. Then we have to get up. All right?” Dean drifted back to la la land with the sound of his brother chuckling softly in his ear. Dean sighed in contentment. If his brother's happy chuckle wasn't the nicest sound, he didn't know what was.

Re: "Let Me Hold You" , Dean and Sam, Gen., Prompts #1 & #2

[marlowe78.livejournal.com]

Heee, what a fun-cures. Really, much better than turning into a woman or a dog ;-)

[mimblexwimble.livejournal.com]

There's no need to sign up is there? We just write and post?

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Yep, no sign-ups! ;)

FILLED Holding Back the Darkness Sam, Dean GEN

[shyriann.livejournal.com]

OKAY... After arguing with LJ for half an hour trying to break this story up into comments, I gave up and just put it on my journal. I tried, I really tried to keep the angst out of this one, but it's pretty angsty for a schmoop meme. And it's not terribly schmoopy... but it's the best I can do, cuz I'm just not schmoopy, now matter how bad I wanna be. Anyways, I'll shut up now.

Summary: At nine years old, Sam realized he had never seen Dean sleep.

To the Schmoop! (http://shyriann.livejournal.com/34725.html#cutid1)

It's Always You, prompt #1, gen (ft. de-aged!Dean)

[(Anonymous)]

This is for all you de-aged!Dean loving people!


Dean had decided Sam and Bobby were enjoying this whole thing a bit too much. Once they’d figured out it was only temporary, (although not temporary enough - three months, goddamn it) the novelty of Dean being a cute-as-fuck four-year-old had taken over and then it was the non-stop teasing and the hair ruffling, and Jesus, if Sammy tried to pick him up and put him on his shoulders one more time Dean was seriously gonna go feral child on his ass.

And now he was pretty sure he was getting sick. Dean pretty much never got sick, not sick enough to call off a hunt, anyway. But he used to get sick a lot as a kid, (much to dad’s frustration) and Winchester luck being what it was, it made sense that he was right back where he didn’t want to be.

“You all right there, Dean?” Bobby said. He was looking at Dean appraisingly from across their table at the diner. They’d just finished picking up some car parts during which Bobby had actually told him to “watch your language” around people, and now the son of a bitch was trying to win him back over with food.

Well, it wasn’t going to work. Dean looked back at him. Bobby said, “That cheeseburger ain’t gonna eat itself, you know.”

“Next you’ll be telling me your money doesn’t grow on trees, old man,” Dean said.

“Eat up,” Bobby ordered him.

“Bossy, bossy,” Dean muttered and picked up his ridiculously small kiddie meal burger and tried to finish it, but he just couldn’t. He was tired all of the sudden, and it tasted burnt.

He threw up in the gravel parking lot and it tasted burnt coming back up too.

Bobby said, “Aw, kid,” and pat-patted him on the back, and Dean was too busy heaving his guts up to shrug him off. Then Bobby tried picking him up and that was really too much, so Dean pulled on what was left of Bobby’s hair.

“Jesus, Dean!” Bobby said, holding Dean out at arm’s length and carrying him to the car like he was a bomb.

Inside the car, Bobby got him a bag to heave into if he had to and put his too-big trucker’s cap on top of Dean’s head. “Keep the sun out of your eyes,” he explained.

“Awesome,” Dean croaked.

Sam was up on a ladder cleaning out the gutters when they got back to Singer’s Salvage, but he came down when he saw them rolling down the driveway. “What’s up?” he wanted to know, as Bobby risked being kicked in the knee-caps by helping Dean out of the car.

“Lemme alone,” Dean heard himself say, ashamed by the almost whining quality of his voice.

He climbed painstakingly out of the car by himself and immediately burst into a round of coughing. Even he had to admit it was a pretty pathetic moment. He sounded like a mix between a ninety year old man and one of Bobby’s dog’s squeaky toys.

“He’s sick,” Bobby said dryly.

Re: It's Always You, prompt #1, gen (ft. de-aged!Dean)

[(Anonymous)]

Sam looked overly alarmed. “Dean?”

“What,” Dean said. He didn’t say it like a question. He was done with this conversation, them always looking at him, studying him. He’d always hated that shit, but it was worse since he’d been like this, because that was all they did. Sam even watched him brush his teeth before bed, like he thought Dean was going to fall and choke on his toothbrush just because he was miniature now. They bought him mini-me food and watched him eat it. Sometimes Bobby went on hunts without them, the lucky bastard, and Sam didn’t even go with him. He trusted Bobby to hold his own more than he trusted Dean to brush his freaking teeth all by his lonesome. Not that his brother had said that, but Dean wasn’t born yesterday. All visual evidence to the contrary.

Sam sighed at him. “C’mere, jerkface,” he said. Then he picked him up.

“Watch the merchandise,” Bobby warned.

“Him or me?” Sam said, jerking his head back and away from Dean’s useless flying fists. “Geez. Hey. Are you throwing a tantrum right now?”

Dean settled down in his brother’s stupidly huge arms, mostly because he thought he was might puke again if he kept it up, which he really didn’t feel like doing. “Shut up,” he said. “I’m not.”

“Dude, you totally are.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean said.

“Yes, you are,” Sam said.

Dean glared at him. “You used to play that stupid game when you were a kid, Sam. Stoppit.”

“You stop it,” Sam said. He was grinning now, really fucking pleased with himself.

“I’ll throw up on you,” Dean told him. “I swear I will.”

Sam’s smile faded a little. He cupped one big hand over Dean’s forehead. “Damn it,” he said. “You’re really warm. Shit. I mean, how do you feel?”

“What do you think,” Dean said. “I’m being manhandled by a giant.”

Sam carried him into the house and plunked him down on the sofa. “This isn’t like getting sick when you’re yourself, Dean. You’re-“

“I am myself,” Dean said. “Why don’t you guys get that?”

Sam sat on the coffee table in front of him. Bobby stood by the door. They were both watching him again with this unnameable look on their faces, a look he’d put there. He hated this.

“I know, man,” Sam said, quiet. “I was just going to say, you’re going to have to tell me what’s wrong with you, let me take care of you a little. You can’t just- do what you usually do.”

“Which is?”

“The opposite of that,” Sam said.

Dean studied his knees for awhile. “You wanna help, you can get me the remote control,” he said finally. “Bitch.”

Sam sighed again, but snagged it for him. “What about some ginger ale?” he said hopefully. “You want some ginger ale?”

And Dean wasn’t really thirsty, didn’t really want anything except for this to be over, but he said, “Okay.”

[xephwrites.livejournal.com]

Hee! Even though I've got a ton of projects on the go, I am working on something! Damn my having to go to the job that doesn't allow me to play on my laptop! My other job DOES allow me to have the laptop.

YAY Schmoop!! No promises that it will be overly schmoopy, but it does feature a hurt!Dean and some schmoop.

[hoodietime.livejournal.com]

Yes! ::fistpump::

I'm all about the schmoop since the finale kind of totally BROKE ME.