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I have 3 4 5 stories I really need to finish and my muse has completely and not unsurprisingly... abandoned me like a used candy wrapper on the side of the road.
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write3 4 5 as many as I can squeeze out before I actually get my mojo back and start writing what I'm supposed to be writing.
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
Help me woo her back.
Request some timestamps/pre/post/missing scenes of anything I've written.
*Anything*
I'm not actually expecting many of you to be around because I think it's like night o'clock Sunday for most of you but what the hell.
I will write
Hi new people who have recently joined, don't be shy. :)
ETA: Can anyone point me in the direction of any good up-for-grabs posted Justin Long icons??
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"It'll totally heal," Dean opines, bringing the knife closer to his arm and Sam has had enough, he really has. He leans over the table and smacks the knife out of Dean's hand. Or at least, he meant to but Dean jerked a little when he made a grab for it and instead Sam manages to cut open the meat of his palm in one long slice. He sits back quickly.
"Why did you do that?" Dean asks, looking horrified.
"I didn't mean to do it," Sam sighs, grabbing at the napkins in the dispenser on their table so he can staunch the flow of blood before someone else sees it and freaks out. He watches Dean slide out of his own side of the booth and then sighs and shifts left so Dean can wedge himself into Sam's side, grabbing at the napkins and wrapping Sam's hand firmly, holding the cut closed.
"You're always hurting yourself," Dean scolds, eyes intent on Sam's hand and the dribble of blood that has escaped the makeshift bandages and circled Sam's wrist.
"Me? You were the one who wanted to reenact Terminator 2," Sam gripes. Dean had been strangely intent on seeing if he could strip the flesh from his forearm off in one smooth motion like the Terminator, like he'd seen someone peel an apple in one go without breaking the skin and thought he could do it.
Sometimes Sam worries about the damage to Dean's connections or whatever it was he used to be rational because they certainly seemed to be failing him.
"Well, I heal better than you," Dean says and he sounds pissed about the fact, like Sam's skin doesn't knit neatly together by benefit of thousands of helpful nanites on purpose.
"It's not a competition," Sam says and rolls his eyes.
"You've just gotta stop... hurting yourself. I won't always... I can't stand..." Dean doesn't finish what he's saying but his whole face tenses and Sam's stomach clenches.
"Hey, look at me for a sec," Sam says and after a beat, Dean does.
"That's why we gotta make sure you stick around," Sam says, a determined line carving his brow in half.
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Um. Crap. I need the link to the original story now, because i only vaguely remember it and.....
*flails*
Boys!!
*sniffle*
Ignore me, ignore me, you linked in your post, i was just scrolling down and so didn't see it....
:)
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If there was ever a verse that deserved to be epically long, this has got to be it.
Please? :-)
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