RL work stuff continues to suck the life out of me like a black hole with a schwarzchild radius of a small planet. I am struggling with fic in between various work assignments. However, I did manage to complete a short piece for one of my Cash songs prompts for
poorboyshuffleTITLE: Going Without
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Favorite lines:
Not leaning over a pool table, all wandering hands and that cocky little asshole grin that John’s despaired of since Dean turned fifteen going on twenty-one.
*g* Dean’s libido must have given John sooo many gray hairs over the years.
He remembers what it was like when the rest of the world faded to vague shadows, when Mary first became his sun and moon and stars above.
Lovely.
“We’ll stop and get you patched up, kid,” he says softly, dropping his hand onto Dean’s good arm, squeezing lightly. “Put this all behind you, okay?”
Dean nods, and if his eyes shine a little too brightly in the glow from the passing truck, well John sure as hell isn’t going to mention it.
Oh, Winchesters. *hugs them*
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Also, I wonder if there aren't quite a number of mini!Deans strewn throughout the midwest. *g*
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I really buy your John here, not meaning to be harsh but incapable of being otherwise.
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That must just have gutted Dean.
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