Plot Bunny Share Circle!
Mar. 12th, 2015 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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hoodie_timePesky rabbits keep sneaking into the office. Not to worry. We called the exterminator.
#SPNFamily
#SupernaturaI pic.twitter.com/GzXDLDPbGL
— Jason Fischer (@JasonFischer77) March 12, 2015Hi everyone! :) (For half of the world), spring is in the air, or soon-to-be! And if you're in the southern hemisphere, well... A changing season is a changing season!! We've still got a week to go until the next SPN episode, so let's have a plot bunny share circle!
A plo- buh...what?
A plot bunny share circle! Maybe you dream up more fics than you could ever possibly write. Maybe you have a few orphaned scenes but no project to attach them to, or a project you don't think you'll ever finish. Maybe you're not into writing fic, necessarily, but you're great at thinking up cool ideas. Here is the place to share them!
So...is this a comment!meme?
Why, thanks for asking! No, it is not! Where in a comment meme you might post a general prompt in the hopes that someone might fill it, here's the place to be a little more meta. Tell us what inspired your bunny, or if you have a fragment, why you never quite finished it--didn't know where to go next? Canon got there first? Got embarrassed by your apparently limitless pleasure in H/C? (Hee.)
YES: "I have a Russian babushka, and whenever I'm sick and I'm over visiting, she'll whip out two home remedies: holding my head over a pot of just-boiled potatoes so I can inhale all the steam, and drinking warm beer. Both are kind of gross tbh but THEY SO WORK. So I had this idea of like, Sam and Dean working some kind of case, however peripherally, that involved Russian mythology, and having Dean be subjected to these cures. I feel like the warm beer one is just so SPN. Plus if you're going to start a series with a house fire clearly you also need to include a house with a chicken foot, right?So what, we... ramble at this post and then like, write the bunnies?
NO: "Gen, please. Dean with a headcold."
You can certainly write/draw/etc. the bunnies! But don't feel limited to that. Maybe you want to offer a bit of your own headcanon to contribute to someone else's idea. Maybe you want to try and get some comment-thread group!fic going on. Or start a brainstorming session. Or just coo over other people's ideas. We're all about coo-ing! Even if you think it's just a fragment of a thing, maybe to your reader it'll read like a full fic. Feel free to comment, and treat it like one!
This is meant to be a creative, collaborative space where we can get those artistic juices flowing and see what shakes out! Maybe collabs will be born. Maybe you'll unstuck someone with their fic. Maybe you'll adopt someone's abandoned idea. Maybe someone will ask to write yours!
Please feel free to solicit specific advice.
For instance, if you're stuck on a fic, but you still want to keep writing it, ask if someone will idea-bounce with you! If you're looking for a writer for an idea, let us know. (In that case, however, it might be more fun to ask for a collab partner. Maybe you want do art with someone, or beta read, or podfic, or make icons, etc.)
Similarly, if you want help or feedback on a piece, but you specifically do not want anyone to use your snippet, please say so! Otherwise, all material collected in this post will be considered open to remix, reinterpretation, collaboration, etc. Always remember, of course, to give credit where credit's due. Where's the fun in collaboration and patchwork-fanworking if you're not going to wave that flag proudly, after all? :)
****In the spirit of conversation and collaboration, for every plot bunny you post, HT strongly encourages you to engage with someone else's, too. Ask a question, tell them their brain is perfect. Drabble a response. Doodle something. Respond with an appropriate GIF. Play around! Stay a while.
Questions? Feel free to ask in the comments or PM
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kalliel. This is just a bit of low-key chatty crafting fun~
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no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 11:47 pm (UTC)Tropes: alcoholism, abandonment issues, emotional damage, [warning: other hurt characters]
If he can pull himself together before Dean comes back this time, it'll be a freaking godsend. Near as they can figure, it's his soul gracelessly making up for lost time. Part of that whole acclimation thing, from cold turkey soullessness to bona fide Sammy, as Dean put it; all the same Sam's pretty sure going Splendor in the Grass every time the local grocery doesn't stock WinterFresh is pretty far and above--anything. Nothing like a little waterworks to help Dean rediscover his controlling streak. He's getting better, though.
Sam is getting better. Dean is--
Dean is leaning against the bathroom doorframe. "Tell me what's wrong."
Sam shrugs. Nothing's wrong. He nests his hands in the folds of his jeans and presses down hard, until he can see white under his fingernails. His hands prickle with the memory of the bedsheet, red-hot like an allergic rash. (He's getting better.)
"Go take next shower. Saved some warm water for you."
No. Sam can't take off his jacket, can't imagine unlacing his boots. He can't feel that naked. Not in this room.
Dean moves from the bathroom door, marking wet footprints on the carpet. Sam turns back to the bed, which is probably a bad move, but he doesn't want to think about the carpet. What's living in the carpet.
If Dean had plans to dress, he skips them and waddles to Sam's bed, towel hitched at his waist with one hand. He strips the sheets back with the other, and Sam flinches away from the stale puff of air that rolls back on him, the flutter of the sheet as the edge brushes the back of his jacket. Forget disgust; this is fucking humiliating. Sam feels twelve.
Dean sniffs. "That's pleasant." He should know better than to put his hands in it, but he scratches at the white crust on the sheets anyway, runs his hands down red-brown. He turns back to Sam.
That's great. Now Sam feels four, and like he's been caught wetting the bed. He's not the one at fault here, he knows he isn't, but--
Lately, there are a lot of things that make him feel that way. Set of sheets like that in Galveston, isn't there. Almost like that. And in Pontiac, too. You left them there. Or your body did.
"Can we--" Can we get back in the car, please. Can we go somewhere, anywhere else. Can we drive and just not stop.
Dean waves him off. "No reason not to stay. Hell, this is the best thing that's happened to us all month. Except for, you know, the--soul thing. Of course." He'll just swing by the front desk, get the motel to refund them for the mess, and they'll score some cash to resupply. Cards're maxed; he's got a twenty in his wallet, a secret hundred stashed somewhere, if they can find it. But they're running the wire. Haven't had time to do the whole--vague but emphatic hand gesture--scam-artist-white-collar thing.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 11:49 pm (UTC)Hell with it. Ultimately, money is just another dime in what is fast becoming a sizable jar of chump change. Sam throws in the mental towel and lets Dean talk circles around himself. ("You stay here, I'll go and, uh--")
He watches as Dean tousles his hair dry haphazardly, tries to fish a shirt from his duffle. Third cast, Dean gets a black, serviceable something. It sticks and clings and curls wetly when he pulls over his head; the handful of slanted seconds dedicated to sorting out the shirt and grimacing into a still-damp jacket is the only time Dean ever shuts up.
Sam stares at the rain splatter patterns on his jeans. He'd like to think that all Dean's chatter, and Dean's orders, and Dean's nondisclosures add up to something: that they're a cover, built up out of a half-baked sense of duty, big brother protectiveness, and the inescapable fear that some dark, creeping thing is going to tear them apart first chance it gets. That kind of paranoid responsibility's part of the gig, or part of Dad, or part of them; Sam's not sure. But it's always been there. It's something Sam's both borne and given. And that's how it was for a long time.
Then Sam jumped into the Cage. Or he said 'yes' to Lucifer, or used Ruby, or failed to pull his brother out of Hell, or died in Cold Oak. Or maybe he suckled demon blood from Azazel's fingers. Sam doesn't know what tipped the scale, and he doesn't care. All he knows is this: At some point in his life, he became Dean's biggest mistake.
And that sucks.
Because whether or not Sam can handle himself (and he can; he knows he can. He has to), failing Sam is not something Dean will ever manage gracefully. Sam doesn't even need to let time be the judge; time has had them judged and sentenced long before he was even around to protest. He can shuffle back, memories more like platitudinous greeting cards than actual experiences, but it doesn't make a difference. Dean wants to hug him. Dean wants to keep him close. Dean wants to punch his face in. Dean wants to kill him in his sleep. It doesn't matter. If there was a time Sam could do anything about any of that, time's long past.
So maybe it's time to cut their losses and accept that this is what they get.
Then Dean's got his keys in his hand, he's pulling on his boots and tracking mud back to the door, and Sam jackknifes back to the Here and Now. So much for acceptance. In something that's definitely not akin to a panicked staccato: "I thought the desk was just across the parking lot. What are the keys for? Where are you going?"
"The store, Sam. The desk, and then the store."
"For what?"
Dean palms the door and slowly swings around to face Sam. Throaty sigh. Flask, swig. Gaze to floor. "I dunno. Just gonna pick up some things." Dean's fingers making mazes of his belt loops. "Just stay here, Sam."
"You're different, you know," Sam says, because he otherwise he's empty-handed, and Dean leaves.
Instead, Dean laughs.
Sam pushes. "I'm serious, man. It's like... I know this part of you, like, I've lived with him before, and I've watched you be that guy, but then--I haven't. I don't know; I don't know how to explain it. You're just different."
"Mirror's in the bathroom, pal."
no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 11:49 pm (UTC)"Really?"
"Really."
"Good to know. But...main desk, refund. Store. That's all she wrote. The end. Coda time. We're fine."
Sam looks at Dean, and he sees drawn skin, tinged shower-pink under the exhaustion, and he sees crow's feet, lines he doesn't remember. He sees guilt, and fear, and confusion, and (please don't let it be) resentment. And all of Sam's thoughts and wavering inferences funnel down and all he's left with is the feeling that he's just been living one big mistake. Again. Now they're just running out the meter.
Because Dean doesn't know what he wants anymore. And Sam's just the mistake--he shouldn't want anything.
"I'm coming with."
"You wh--"
"This isn't about space? Good. 'Cause I want to come with you."
Dean opens his mouth to object, because that's reflex, but he doesn't. Sam lets out a relieved exhalation, twin to Dean's as he opens the door and the storm wind smacks him in the face.
The trip is as Dean promised. Front desk, refund. ("Let's just say it doesn't just smell like sex, okay buddy?")
Two blocks down, gas mart. They walk. Dean's keys jangle in his pocket the entire stretch.
"Everclear? Seriously?"
Dean gives him a look. "What? I'm branching out."
"Paint stripper's a couple aisles over."
Then they're back, and Dean's apparently taking the Everclear to bed with him. He lets it skate around the bottom of the glass, thoughtfully supplied by the EZ Rest Motel, and downs the shot. Sam's not sure if the gagging is precipitated by the alcohol itself or the streak it leaves in the milky insides of the cup.
"So. Given the givens, you sure you're not going to reconsider the shower thing?" Dean asks.
"Water's lukewarm, piss-colored; soap's basically a pair of shriveled nads?"
"Yup."
"Yeah, no. I'm good."
The only other lines in the text doc are:
"Do you still want to kill me in my sleep?"
"Do you sleep?"
You can do or not do whatever you want with this. Rest it gently in its grave, ideally. XD
Baba yaga tends to Dean's head cold, Russian-style
Date: 2015-03-12 11:55 pm (UTC)I [don't actually] have a Russian babushka, and whenever I'm [hypothetically] sick and I'm over visiting, she'll whip out two home remedies: holding my head over a pot of just-boiled potatoes so I can inhale all the steam, and drinking warm beer. Both are kind of gross tbh but THEY SO WORK. So I had this idea of like, Sam and Dean working some kind of case, however peripherally, that involved Russian mythology, and having Dean be subjected to these cures. I feel like the warm beer one is just so SPN. Plus if you're going to start a series with a house fire clearly you also need to include a house with a chicken foot, right?
Re: Baba yaga tends to Dean's head cold, Russian-style
Date: 2015-03-17 09:28 am (UTC)Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 1/3
Date: 2015-03-13 02:38 am (UTC)”Daaaaaad! Dean's being mean to me!”
Dad looks up from the table full of books and papers and glares at Sam. “What did he say?”
“He said he wouldn't let me use his markers if I didn't shut the 'h' up,” Sam replies, crossing his arms.
“Were you being loud?”
“No, I wasn't, honest!” Sam straightens up and moves his hands to his pockets. “I was humming the bullfrog song, but I wasn't even as loud as Dean's radio.”
Dad frowns and stands up. “Is Dean in your room?”
“Yeah.”
Sam follows Dad into the small bedroom that he and Dean have been sharing for the last six weeks. This apartment is nicer than their last one, which kind of smelled like cat pee. It's on the first floor and there's a special bathroom just for Dean that already has bars and the high toilet seat and the bench in the shower. Dean's squinting at Huckleberry Finn, which he's been trying to read all morning, but he's still in the very front of the book. “Hey, Deano, what's going on?”
Dean glares at Sam. “He tattled, didn't he?”
"You feeling okay?” Dad asks, ignoring Dean's comment.
Dean puts down his book and shrugs. “My head's killing me. And my eyes won't focus.”
“How long?”
“Since I woke up.” Dean rubs his eyes and yawns. “'m tired. Lemme alone.”
“Dean!” barks Dad. “Get up. We're going to the hospital.”
“But you promised we could go to the carnival tonight!” protests Sam. He's been trying to get Dad to take them all week, but he's been distracted with work stuff and Dean's behind in school because he was off with the flu all last week and it's not fair that every time Sam wants to do something normal Dean has to screw it up somehow.
“Not now, Sam.” Dad helps Dean into his chair and grabs the bag they keep packed for when Dean has to stay at the hospital overnight from the closet. “Your brother's not feeling well.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “He's always sick. It's not fair.”
“Well, that's life. Come on.” Dad pushes Dean out the door and Dean doesn't even say anything. Sam frowns. Dean always yells at Dad when he tries to push him, because Dean thinks that pushing is for babies and he can wheel himself much faster than Dad can push him anyway. Something must be really wrong.
Dean covers his face and moans when they get outside. “Hang in there, Dean,” Dad says quietly. “We'll get you fixed up. Don't worry.”
Dad lays Dean in the backseat and gives him the cushion from his chair to use as a pillow, then folds the chair and places it in the trunk. Normally Sam would be happy to get to sit in the front but now it just makes his stomach hurt because Dean seems so sick. Dad hands Dean the plastic bucket they use to wash the car. “If you're gonna puke, puke in that.”
By the time they get to the hospital, Dean has puked in the bucket three times. Dad hands Dean's bag to Sam and Sam struggles to keep up as Dad rushes Dean inside. Sam gets the folder out of the bag and gives it to Dad to take to the admitting desk. Dean's bent over, head in his hands, mumbling something Sam can't make out. He steps closer and listens carefully until the muttered words make sense:makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop. “It's okay, Dean,” he murmurs.
Dean makes a weird noise and goes limp. Sam grabs him before he can topple forward out of the chair. “Dean?” Dean's eyes are rolled back in his head and he starts twitching and jerking under Sam's hands. “Dad!”
Dad sprints over, trailed by a nurse, and Sam gets shoved out of the way as people in scrubs appear out of the woodwork and start fussing over Dean. Dad eventually steps back and joins Sam in the corner, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What's happening?” asks Sam.
“Dean's very sick,” Dad answers, not taking his eyes off Dean and the hospital people.
“I know that,” says Sam. “I mean what's wrong with him? I'm not a little kid anymore.” He shrugs Dad's hand off and cranes his neck to look up at him. “I wanna know the truth.”
Re: Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 2/3
Date: 2015-03-13 02:43 am (UTC)out cold. The nurse calls for Dad and he grabs Sam's arm. “Come on.”
One of the scrub-wearing people stops them at the end of the hall while the rest of them prepare to take Dean away in the special elevator. “Come with me,”
he says, pointing down the opposite hall. “I can take you upstairs; the CT might take a while.”
They go upstairs to a small waiting area with a couple of couches and chairs and a big TV in the corner. Dad nudges Sam toward the TV. “Go watch cartoons
while I talk to the doctor.”
“No.” Sam crosses his arms and plants his feet. “I wanna know what's wrong with Dean.”
Dad's face screws up like he's going to yell, but the doctor smiles at Sam. “Have a seat and we'll talk.”
Sam sits down on the couch next to his dad, who still looks like he wants to yell at him. The doctor nods at Dad. “It's a good thing you got him here so
quickly,” he says. “The faster we get him into surgery, the better chance there is of avoiding irreversible brain damage.”
Sam's eyes widen. “Brain damage?” He looks over at Dad and swallows hard. Dad looks like he just got punched in the gut. “What's wrong with Dean's
brain?”
“How much do you know about your brother's condition?” asks the doctor.
“Well, I know that his spinal cord's messed up and that's why he can't walk or go to the bathroom right,” says Sam. “It's called spina bifida, and he was born
like that so there's no way to fix it. And he gets sick all the freaking time.”
“Sam!” snaps Dad. “Watch your language.”
The doctor nods. “That's right, Sam. Now, there's a special type of fluid that surrounds the brain and spinal cord. It's called cerebrospinal fluid, or CSF.
Because your brother's spine is 'messed up', it doesn't drain the CSF the way it should. He has to have a small tube called a shunt in his head to drain the
extra CSF so it doesn't build up in his head and hurt his brain. Sometimes, a shunt gets blocked or broken, and then a neurosurgeon—someone like me—has
to perform an operation to fix the problem. Right now, the technicians are taking special pictures of Dean's brain to see where the problem is. Once they
figure it out, my team and I will go in and fix it.”
“Okay,” says Sam. It makes sense, although he's a little mad that Dean never told him he has a tube in his head. He knows just about everything else about
Dean's stupid messed-up body, like how he has to sleep on his stomach and have a special cushion on his wheelchair so he doesn't get those really disgusting
sores on his butt and legs again, and how he has to drink that yucky fiber stuff every morning at breakfast and every night before bed so Dad doesn't have to
stick his finger up Dean's butt to get the poop out. Sam still remembers the black eye Dean gave Dad the last time he tried that. He also remembers Dean
crying in the nurse's office because his stomach hurt so bad, and how he held Dean's hand till Dad could come get them. That was three years ago. Sam
hasn't seen him cry since.
“How long will the surgery take?” asks Dad.
“It depends on the nature of the malfunction,” says the doctor. “Based on the symptoms he's shown so far, the problem is more likely located in the brain
itself, which is the more challenging area to operate on, of course.”
“Right, right.” Dad rubs a hand over his beard. “You'll let us know when you find something?”
The doctor stands up and shakes John's hand. “Of course, Mr. Winchester.” He smiles down at Sam. “There's a VCR in the cabinet under the TV. I could
bring in some movies while you're waiting. Would you like that?”
“Do you have Ghostbusters?” Dean had let him watch the real version with the swearing when he was sick last week and the neighbor assigned to
check on them let them borrow it.
The doctor chuckles. “I'll see.”
Dad nudges Sam with his elbow, not gently. “Thank you,” he tells the doctor, and adds, “sir.” The doctor smiles and leaves the room.
Re: Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 2/3
Date: 2015-03-13 02:47 am (UTC)“The carnival,” Sam fills in. “It's okay. There'll be another one in the summer.” He moves close and ducks his head, speaking only to Dean. “I'm glad you're okay.”
They stay in the waiting room until Dean gets out of recovery and the nurse moves him to a regular room in the kids' ward. Dean falls asleep after five minutes and the nurse tells them that he'll probably be out for the rest of the night, so they might as well go home and get some sleep.
It always feels weird to be in bed without Dean beside him. Sam leaves the door open a little ways so he can hear Dad snoring in the other room and he won't feel so alone.
That's how he hears the phone ring at 2:24 in the morning. He crawls out of bed, careful not to make the mattress squeak, and creeps over to the door to
listen.
“Yes, this is John Winchester.” There's a long pause. “Third floor, Neuro ICU. Yeah, I'll be right there.” Sam hears the phone click and runs back to bed, silently throwing himself back under the covers.
A second later, the light turns on. “Sam, wake up.”
Sam rolls over and sits up. “What's going on?”
“Get dressed. We're going back to the hospital.”
“Why? Did something happen to Dean?”
“I'll explain on the way. Clothes, now.”
Sam throws on his clothes from yesterday, but Dad grabs his hand and drags him out to the car before he can even finish tying his shoes. Dad grips the wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “What's wrong?”
“Dean won't wake up,” says Dad, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Why?”
“They don't know yet.” Dad speeds up to get through a yellow light. “They need to do more tests.”
“But he's gonna be okay, right?”
Dad bites his lip. The tense silence is all the answer Sam needs. He thinks about all the times he's wished for a normal brother, or no brother at all, because Dean's “special needs” got in the way. Like when they had to buy coats that don't really fit from the Salvation Army because Dad had to spend all their extra money on a bigger wheelchair for Dean, or when Sam didn't get to go on the class field trip to the amusement park because Dean got sick and Dad had to take back the money for the ticket to buy medicine. But sometimes it's cool having Dean for a brother, because he gets to go on special trips and stuff with other kids who use wheelchairs and he'll always bring something back for Sam. He has a football autographed by three Dallas Cowboys players, a baseball cap autographed by Cal Ripken Jr., a t-shirt from the National Aquarium with glow-in-the-dark frogs, a keychain shaped like a sailboat, and a piggy bank that looks like a Hershey kiss.
Things would be a lot different without Dean.
Re: Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 2/3
Date: 2015-03-13 02:59 am (UTC)Re: Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 2/3
Date: 2015-03-13 01:15 pm (UTC)Re: Wheelchair!Dean snippet, 2/3
Date: 2015-03-16 08:50 pm (UTC)Especially these bits:
Dad pushes Dean out the door and Dean doesn't even say anything. Sam frowns. Dean always yells at Dad when he tries to push him, because Dean thinks that pushing is for babies and he can wheel himself much faster than Dad can push him anyway. Something must be really wrong.
It's just a nice detail that shows Dean's personality pretty quickly, and also the seriousness of the situation.
It always feels weird to be in bed without Dean beside him. Sam leaves the door open a little ways so he can hear Dad snoring in the other room and he won't feel so alone.
And this is just very sweet.
New, don't mind me: an idea
Date: 2015-03-13 04:20 am (UTC)After the last episode, I feel Dean has been a bit haunted by what Cain said. And nightmares. So first he starts having nightmares of killing Crowley which isn't terrible but he wakes up with a start and tries to ignore it. And a week later, he has ones of killing Cas, jamming the blade through Cas' throat and he wakes up with a start gasping. So he starts calling Cas a lot, checking up on him, reminding himself it wasn't real, it was just a dream, Cas is fine.
Sam notices Dean hasn't been sleeping well and tries to bring it up but Dean won't talk. But then Dean starts screaming in his sleep. And here's the thing; Dean doesn't scream in his sleep. He makes noises and half starts of yells but never a full scream. So Sam comes running convinced Dean is being attacked to find his brother freshly woken up, screaming his fucking lungs out.
Dean won't tell him what the dreams are about. And after Sam leaves he has to hold himself from breaking down. Because if he ever has a dream about killing Sam again, he won't be able to take it.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-13 07:38 am (UTC)In 'Changing Channels' Gabriel said that all the Angels knew that Sam & Dean were born to be Lucifers & Michaels meatsuits, and we all know how much Gabe wanted to stop his brothers from fighting so my plot bunny is.
Gabriel sneaks into the hospital and arranges for Sam Winchester to be switched at birth, so that Lucifer won't have his perfect meatsuit but only a boy who's been primed with demon blood and one with the right bloodline who can't hold him, so the apocalypse fizzles. I'd love to see Sam & Dean's reaction to discovering they're not blood, and them tracking down the real Sam. (In my headcannon it's Xander Harris and Sam Winchester that are switched-but that's just 'cos I luv x-overs)
no subject
Date: 2015-03-14 08:28 am (UTC)Can you imagine??
:D
Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-13 12:32 pm (UTC)Some people don’t understand Dean because he has what dad calls a ‘CP accent’. Sam knows that an accent is what people from a certain area have. Marty has a Texan accent because he and his mother (a red-headed woman who laughs a lot when she talks to dad even though he hasn't said anything funny) are from Texas. But they've never been anywhere where everyone sounds like Dean. For a while Sam has a feeling of dread whenever they move because they might find the place where Dean is originally from and he might like it too much and decide to stay, and then where would Sam be?
Eventually Sam finds out that CP stands for cerebral palsy, which is not a place. It’s a condition, dad explains. It isn't like an illness and you can’t catch it. Dean was born with it. It means the left side of his body doesn't work properly (Sam already knows this- Dean does everything with his right hand and his left leg drags behind him when he walks) and it makes his speech kind of slurred. Because of this some people who aren't used to it might not be able to understand him and some of them might think Dean is stupid.
Sam is outraged.
“Besides,” dad says, rounding up his explanations “it’s a very mild case. Dean’s not like most people with cerebral palsy so it doesn't really matter.”
Sam believes him because after that discussion dad occasionally remembers that Dean needs physical therapy and the children in the waiting rooms have wheelchairs and crutches and don’t look a thing like Dean.
Dean goes to speech therapy from time to time and does exercises in front of the mirror every morning. Most of the time he’s pretty easy to understand. It’s just when he’s tired that it’s more noticeable.
Like when he’s been pacing in front of the window all evening waiting for the impala to
I think I have more of this in a notebook somewhere, with bits from Dean's POV as an adult. My plan was for John to have relied on Dean the same amount he did in canon and for Dean to be so competent and John so focused on revenge that he mostly forgets and minimises that Dean is physically disabled. Dean grows up in denial (I think I have him describe himself to a girl as "just extremely right handed") and anxious to prove himself.
Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-13 08:19 pm (UTC)Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-16 09:01 pm (UTC)I think Dean's central struggle in this universe will to be to come to terms with who he really is and to not be defined by other people's contrasting images of him. Neither the loyal soldier and caregiver that can do anything John wants nor the totally helpless person that strangers assume he is based on how he moves and speaks.
Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-14 08:36 am (UTC)Lol, that is just SUCH a Dean thing to say :D
Also, Sam's reaction to the Texan woman is so perfect - the things kids notice but can't put into context :)
Not being a writer means I have no help to offer you other than cheering you on and hoping your muse gets back in touch with you eventually :)
Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-16 09:04 pm (UTC)Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-15 06:04 pm (UTC)Oooh, ouch.
Re: Snippet- Dean with cerebral palsy
Date: 2015-03-16 08:53 pm (UTC)5 Bunnies in need of a Home
Date: 2015-03-13 09:15 pm (UTC)1. Crossover with "Alias Smith and Jones" - I was reading a marvelous AS&J fic the other day and aspects of it reminded me of a Supernatural fic, especially in how they treated each other and what they were willing to do for each other. And as both pairs hail from Lawrence with tragic pasts...
I was thinking of a number of ways this could be done. (1) A straight-up time-travel crossover. (2) Parallel stories, each pair in their own time. (3) Something in the familiar form of a research paper or some sort of analysis comparing the two pairs.
If anyone knows if this already exists, please let me know. (originally posted June 2013)
2. OK, well, maybe no documentary.
I was watching the History Channel this morning and they were doing a special on Hell and how the concept has evolved.
My idea?
A writer/researcher has heard a story of a man who was raised from Hell and tries to track down Dean.
If he finds him and if Dean speaks are up to you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNk_rBBIwco (originally posted August 2012)
3. Every town/city/region has local ghost stories and other mysteries. Or, if they don't there are house or places that lend themselves to one. My challenge? Write a story set in your hometown (either where you grew up or where you live now) using one of the above criteria. I composed two of my own fics based on areas I know even though the plots themselves were created, not based on anything "real" (originally posted July 2014)
4. I've been watching lots of "Mysteries at the Museum" on the Travel Channel and there are a number of stories that could be used as the basis for a fic or at least inspiration for one.
5. The brothers have to go undercover as it were as upper crust/high society. For some reason, it's not something that they can crash at a motel for. Maybe someone puts them up or arranges for them to stay at a house. They have to hit country clubs and/or yacht clubs. Something to take them out of their flannel and jeans.
Re: 5 Bunnies in need of a Home
Date: 2015-03-13 11:38 pm (UTC)Re: 5 Bunnies in need of a Home
Date: 2015-03-15 06:03 pm (UTC)Re: 5 Bunnies in need of a Home
Date: 2015-03-15 06:14 pm (UTC)Re: 5 Bunnies in need of a Home
Date: 2015-03-17 09:36 am (UTC)It's here if you are interested http://archiveofourown.org/works/300994
no subject
Date: 2015-03-14 02:10 am (UTC)Vaccines and the reason they are around....
Date: 2015-03-14 07:49 pm (UTC)Second: I am not a writer in any language.
But I still think and wonder and have a herd of plot bunnies running wild......
Last year I had the mumps. As an adult that can be really bad, but luckily I had been vaccinated, first as a baby/toddler and later when I was in 6th or 7th grade. But since my last shot had been more than 20 years earlier, i got ill but now as ill as I could have been. And now with measles outbreaks both in USA and Germany it got me thinking....
I guess Mary made sure her boys were vaccinated, but later things weren't that easy. I really doubt John kept up with things, with constant moving and money trouble. And after Dean's resurrection, with a Brand New body, his immune system must have been reset to infant level.
"Common" children's diseases can have serious results both for children and adults. And the more rare diseases like polio and tuberculosis are also possible culprits...
I must admit that I like permanent disabilities.
And I prefer gen.
Brainstorming request
Date: 2015-03-15 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-15 05:48 pm (UTC)There's this one idea I'm really excited about.
I've got the hankering to have John and a more innocent Sam take care of Dean post-Hell, so the premise I'm going for is a fresh-outta-Hell Dean to be sent back in time; wakes up in his 19 or 20 year old body one day. It's a lot more exciting when the people doing the comforting don't know exactly what's going on from the beginning, isn't it? (And yeah, it's not as fun to have John around when he's been through a lot more Hell than Dean has...) All weird coping mechanisms and PTSD and night terrors.
Now, that could be on its own. But the way I've got this in my head, it's BEGGING for this next idea to be in the same story.
(Granted I don't use that second idea, I've got this scene in my head where after however many days of partial lucidity, Dean wakes up, and the first thing he sees is his father. He comes to the conclusion that they're still in Hell, and he and John are trapped in some strange illusion of Alastair's. Much as it's breaking his goddamn heart, John decides to play along, since he's desperate to figure out what on earth is wrong with Dean. This could probably be a short fic all on its own.)
I love big, horrible reveals. I've been thinking a lot about the whole "Dean left part of himself back in the pit" thing, how Demons are made, and how little we see of that sadistic side in the show... And I want something a little less like the all-or-nothing take I usually see in 'demonic little problems', with some other twists. ("Oh god what have I become" is my favorite flavor of hurt, is that strange?)
The way I've seen demons described in the show, it appears as though the conversion happens in Hell itself. What I'm going for is something more unstable... The way I make it out, that piece of his soul blackened and twisted by Alastair's influence has been festering in the Pit, so that shard is basically demonic, though incomplete. But with the way time travel works, at least in this fic, is that as a rule it sends entire souls back and forth. So the two have been unnaturally shoved together.
The vast majority of the time, Dean doesn't feel any different. In fact, he won't even notice something's wrong for a while. But if he gives over to more violent, sadistic urges- even in dreams- it starts to dig hooks into his soul. I'm not going to explicitly state the next part so that the readers only realize it has been happening once there's the reveal, but... His eyes flash a certain color when that happens. (Gosh, I hope I'm clever enough to manage that...) The more it happens, the more danger Dean is in of demoning it up, and the only chance he has to fix it is if he actually lets spill what's wrong with him and gets help, and we all know THAT won't come easy.
And so we have the danger of... a WHITE-EYED DEMON DEAN! YEAH! All creepy and Alastairy and primed for some major Dean angst!
I have a scene or two planned out of the whole eyes thing. But that's in the next comment, cos this is getting way too long.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-15 05:50 pm (UTC)One day, Sam and John haul a demon home to Bobby's. The hunt's hit a dead end and it's the only lead they've got. Problem is, the thing isn't budging- it's even laughing at their attempts at interrogation using holy water.
Dean doesn't want to help. He really, really doesn't want to help... But... People are dying. He doesn't think it's going to work, but with the right buildup, dropping the right hints, he might be able to bluff his way through this and manage to hide the whole "professional torturer" thing from John, Sam and Bobby. See, he thinks if he can draw enough parallels between himself and Alastair, the thing'll get spooked enough to spill the beans. (The ease at which he does this is deliberately sketchy.)
So after he poses the whole bluff-but-don't-actually-hurt-the-meatsuit idea, he takes a duffel, fills it with knives, and strolls into the demon's room. The others stand aside, near the wall by the door, just in case. Dean drops it with a good metallic clank on a long wooden table, and engrosses himself in rummaging through the bag. Interrupting the demon's jeering, he keeps his tone light, lazy, and makes casual talk about the Pit, asking it how long it's been a demon, what circle of Hell it crawled out of, that sort of thing. It gives arrogant responses as expected, but Dean has its attention now. He starts pulling out knives, looking at them thoughtfully one by one, either laying them on the table or tossing rejects off to the side. (He makes sure the demon has a clear view of which he picks and which he doesn't-- Alastair's favorites have to stand out as deliberate.) Hoping that Alastair didn't somehow stumble upon a song from 1935 in the 90s, he taps a tune out on the wood as he works. The demon's taunts don't abate much, but Dean's starting to notice a furrow in its brow. He runs out of things to do, though, the bag empty and the biggest favorite already snatched off the table. The fucker's thick, frankly, and isn't putting two and two together fast enough. (Dean wants to think it's because he's not fitting into those shoes so well, but he knows better, unfortunately.) But it's now or never.
He takes the knife and strolls over to the demon. He's past the others, they can't see his face anymore, so he lets a sadistic grin pull at his mouth. He asks for the location and gives a threat one more time, less interest in his voice for the answer than in his face for the torture. He grips it by the hair and readies the knife, and for a moment, lets himself think about carving up the bastard, makes the smile more real.
The demon visibly starts. Jumps a bit in its seat- Finally, Dean thinks- opens and closes its mouth a few times and stutters in its haste to shout an address. Dean turns away, rushes to the bathroom, and throws up.
John's too focused and Sam's too worried to notice much, but Bobby does, and a nasty feeling he can't quite name curls in the pit of his stomach.
The first time he flashes eyes, though, is actually gonna be in the first scene of the fic, but you won't know that that's what it was at the time. Dean's arrived in the past, and he's trapped in a violent nightmare, enough that either Sam or John try to snap him out of it. When they shake him and he's thrashing, his eyes open slightly for a second, and John/Sam will swear and remark that damn, his eyes are still rolled back into his head, and that that's a bad sign, considering it's a common symptom of sleep disorders like night terrors and sleepwalking. When he opens his eyes for real, though, it's gone.
By the way, I'm honestly too excited by this to say nobody can take a shot at writing it themselves.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 01:31 am (UTC)And because I approve of plot bunnies. We must rescue them all! No more feral plot bunnies!
no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 01:36 am (UTC)Oooooooooooooh~!
no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 09:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-17 09:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-19 08:14 am (UTC)le chicken pox
Date: 2015-03-30 03:14 pm (UTC)So this plot bunny is brought to you by THE CHICKEN POX SCAR ON JENSEN ACKLES' FOREHEAD.
(I was thinking about how funny it is that I was born the same year as Dean, and anyone born in the year 1979 can point out at least one chicken pox scar somewhere on their body - mine is on my knee - whereas my kids have all been vaccinated and won't GET the chicken pox. And Jensen being Jensen, the scar is exactly in the center of his forehead - even his imperfections are perfect.)
The way I'm seeing it, Sammy caught the chicken pox from his kindergarten class, because that's just how it went around. And the school nurse asked John if his other kids have already had it and John's like, "...idk?" and the nurse smiles indulgently and is like "fathers never remember these things but Sammy's mother will know" ANGST ANGST ANGST. What John fails to remember is that Dean went to like seven different schools in kindergarten alone and so he somehow missed picking up any communicable diseases.
SO John takes Sammy home and puts him in itchy, too-small pajamas and gives him off brand Benadryl and oatmeal baths but once the danger has passed and Sammy's more bored and irritable John leaves Dean in charge and takes off. Maybe for a hunt. Maybe he just needs to go on a bender to forget the school nurse and her electric blue eyeshadow (it was the Eighties) and her thoughtless remarks.
The morning John leaves he just says to Dean "take care of your brother okay" and Dean says "yessir" but John doesn't even turn on the light. If he had, he would have seen the rash on his eldest's face and neck.