[Warning: Art contains spoilers for the fic, and one flashing image - frames occur in 2.5 second intervals, so it's not too bad, but just to be safe]
It's time for
spn_j2_bigbang again - my fourth, actually, which doesn't sound possible to me but here we are. Anywho, this year I claimed the marvelous
zara_zee, who wrote one of the most enjoyable fics I've had the pleasure of reading in awhile. I bit the bullet and claimed a space AU, guys. No animals for this gal, I'm branching out in all kinds of artistic directions. Mainly south, because I'm still the head conductor of Procrastination Station.
A big thank you to
blackrabbit42, for being my unofficial cheerleader in the dead of night. And of course
wendy for once again organizing everything this year. And another thank you to coffee, for existing and sustaining my life force during these trying times.
~*~
Title: Déjà Vu
Summary: Dean Winchester has a pretty sweet life. He works in construction; he married his long-time girlfriend, Carmen, straight out of high school; and he’s almost paid off a basic apartment in the Middle District. He may never have left his home district, let alone his home planet, but he’s happy… more-or-less.
So why does he keep dreaming about the red wastelands of Mars? Why does he know more about the Martian Resistance than he has any right to? And who do the long, long legs and decidedly male butt that have him waking up achingly hard every morning belong to?
Maybe Dean just needs a holiday? He couldn’t afford a real one, of course, but maybe he could go to Déjà Vu and get the memories of a holiday implanted; get Mars out of his system.
Of course, that’s when the trouble really starts.
Read the fic
HERE! ~*~
Dividers:
Jensen:
Jared:
And, just in case my life sucks and the above doesn't work, here's both frames:
I did a lot of this in the span of something like 48 hours, so I have slept a very minimal amount these past few days. Here's a rare image of my artistic process, which involved sleep deprivation and swiveling my chair back and forth to make hand gestures at my closet mirror for reference.