Oh. Oh. My time has come.
Well, it should be pretty obvious by now that I love bottom!Dean, so, ha, that’s a start. I have a long list of stuff I love. Ahem.
- Non con
- Petplay (thanks, foxy halfthetroubleisbelieving)
- Serial killer AUs (blame my babe, dykeadellic for that one)
- Ageswap oh my god
I think I’ve missed some, ha. But thanks for asking!
Just a few missed according to the list you gave me. Unless you’ve changed since then. Although I certainly hope you haven’t given up your love of omega!Dean. I need someone to enjoy it just as much as I do ;)
For the dear anon’s reference, here is what I have in addition to your favs.
I swear I don’t stalk your blog all that much. Actually, that’s a lie. I totally do.
Sam x Dean for soullesswincest
There are evenings without research and nights without monsters. Fights fade with into dusk. When the sky makes them feel small, that’s when they hold tight. They don’t need words when the stars speak for them.
Want something like this? <3
IT’S WHERE MY DEMONS HIDE…♫
It’s fucking red!
(note: I’m going to use this prompt to continue my other prompt about the season premier, ok? So any references are to that.)
She just wants to see him.
Callen dragged her from the hospital a few hours ago to shower and give the nurses a rest. But she can’t sleep.
There was so much blood.
She pulls up to the hospital and enters through the emergency bay doors. The tired nurse on duty is unfamiliar, but the moment she says her name Kensi is waved through. Hetty must have left a note, or something, she thinks with a tired smile as she makes her way through the overnight ward.
She passes Sam’s room, and sees him sleeping peacefully with Michelle in the chair next to his bed. She’s glad, and that little part of her that’s angry at the pair of them can go to hell.
It wasn’t their fault. Deeks would tell her it wasn’t their fault.
Well, if he could talk.
But that brings to mind his swollen and bloodied face, which had just been covering the awful damage done to his mouth. The reconstruction dentist had needed to throw up after the initial inspection.
Kensi had already done that twice since bringing Deeks in.
She slows outside his room, and nods to the nurse on duty in the ICU.
"How is he?"
The woman, Sarah according to her nametag, looks down at his chart.
"He hasn’t really slept yet tonight," she says with a grimace. "It seems like he’s fighting it. He got very agitated when we offered him a sleep-aid, but if he doesn’t rest his body won’t be able to start healing."
Kensi swallows hard. That’s easy to say, harder to do if every time he closes his eyes he’s back in that room. Watching Sam watch him as they ratchet up the pain.
"Then I’m not disturbing him?"
Sarah shakes her head. “See if you can get him to respond. I can barely get him to look at me, never mind a smile.”
Kensi remembers a different hospital bed, a different gunshot. A running joke about sponge baths and nurses.
How could this happen to him?
But she smiles tightly at Nurse Sarah and edges into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Hey," she says, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the television. It’s on cartoons. He’s not looking at it.
He doesn’t respond, of course. He screamed the first time someone forced him to open his mouth again. He’s been silent since then.
So she walks over, sits on the edge of the bed. Not touching him, but close.
"Deeks, the nurse says you’re not sleeping."
She wants to joke, to harangue, to bluster. But he’s in so much pain, she feels she owes him her honesty.
He does turn to her, then. Slowly, painfully uncurling from his earlier position facing the wall. He points at something on the bedside table.
A notepad. Of course. Hetty would have considered that.
She hands it to him, and he writes a sentence before handing it back.
Don’t feel especially safe.
His blue eyes are unguarded, and the frustration, the fear, the self-loathing are all clear on his face.
"Just a minute," she whispers. Fighting to keep her emotions level, she walks to the door and calls out to Nurse Sarah. "I’m going to stay with him. Please give us a few hours?"
The nurse smiles understandingly and makes a note. Kensi closes the door and then pulls the privacy curtain.
Deeks is watching her from across the room. He’s written something else and is holding the pad out to her.
Assassin or conjugal visit?
It’s weak, and he doesn’t do more than twitch at the edges of his mouth, but it’s a joke. She can’t fight the grin.
"Idiot. Conjugal visit, obviously. Melissa at your service."
He’s still for a moment, and then painstakingly shifts himself over a few inches to the left, leaving a small space on the near side of the hospital bed.
She doesn’t hesitate. Pulling her gun out of its holster and laying it on the bedside table (“See? Safe.”) she kicks off her shoes and slides in next to him. Just like Melissa and Justin. Almost.
"If I start to starfish, you have my permission to hurt me," she says.
She hears the pencil work in the low light, and then he lays the pad on her stomach and relaxes back into the pillows. His hand slips into hers, and she doesn’t comment, just curls her fingers around his.
The handwriting is messy and hard to make out, but she’s not a federal agent for nothing.
He slides into sleep as she lies next to him, silent tears streaming down her face for the first time today.
it takes me like 3 days to wake up in the morning
oh my god
fucking fandom references
WHAT FANDOM? THE JESUS FANDOM?
THEY PREFER THE TERM CHRISTIANITY
This is the post that killed me
This is the post that killed him.
IT GOT BETTER
#NOSTALGIAAAAAA #nancydrew #ssh
That just made me ridiculously happy.
this is honestly my favorite post
that one time when my sim painted a provocative picture of sam and dean from supernatural