ohsam | comment fic meme!

Entry tags:

&comment-fic meme

comment fic meme!

It's the week leading up to Sam's birthday, which means *drumroll* pain! Pain and horror and terror and illness - and ~~a wee bit of~~ comfort too!

SPREAD THE WORD

THE RULES

→ Leave a comment here with your prompt. This is a Sam-focused hurt/comfort community, so Sam should be the one in the hurt/comforted role. Your prompts may involve sick!Sam, hurt!Sam, angsty!Sam, basically anything that results in Sam being on the receiving end of hurt/comfort. (No rules against whumping other characters as well, of course, but you have to whump Sam first. ;) )
→ In your prompt, please state your desired characters or pairings. All genres/pairings welcome, but no real-person (RPF) prompts.

Example A: “Sam, Dean, gen, set in season 2. Sam has a vision and passes out. Cue caring!Dean and limp!Sam.”
Example B: “Sam/Dean, trauma. Sam is injured on a hunt, Dean freaks out when he thinks Sam might be dead.”

→ Post as many prompts as you like - but one prompt per comment. If you've got a couple, comment with each separately.
→ Prompts can be as short or detailed as you like. Remember though - more detail means less wriggle room for the writer, which might lower the chances of someone picking up your prompt.
→ Go through the prompts! If you find one you like, write a fic for it. There's no limit to how many users can reply to a prompt, or how many prompts someone can write for.
→ When replying to a prompt with your comment-fic, put ‘filled’ in your subject line and then anything else you want, like a title if you have one/part numbers. It’s not a big deal if you forget this step, but it will make it easier for people to find your fic.
→ Anon posting enabled.
→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for writers. Leave some author-love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme!
→ Have fun!

THE MASTER LIST
(with shortened prompts - full prompts at link)

Back to Where We Were by

authoressnebula
After Sam gets his soul back, Dean's become even more mother hen than usual ... Sam can't understand why Dean's so, well ... brotherly, after their downhill relationship the last couple of years...

Creepy-Ugly by

glovered
Sam now has a Thing about cages. A jail cell is a cage.

And In My Soul, An Icy Dread Remains by

authoressnebula
Sam gets himself locked in a freezer. The memories of Hell's frozen lake. Lucifer's icy touch, all those fun things, are banging on the wall and Sam? Sam's not coping too well.

Which Way Do I Steer by

mercuryblue144
Jess was a vegan and Sam has some trouble readjusting to the hunter diet of Mountain Dew and Burger King.

Fire and Ice by

weesta
Sam gets himself locked in a freezer. The memories of Hell's frozen lake. Lucifer's icy touch, all those fun things, are banging on the wall and Sam? Sam's not coping too well.

I'll Be There For You by

cherry916
Sam has nightmares. Dean comforts him. Slash or gen.

Untitled by

erisinia
Gen. Sam is stranded in the middle of the desert. Heat stroke, dehydration, mirages.

Same Time, Same Place by

twoskeletons
Highlight to Reveal Summary - Spoilers for 6.18 [Sam & Castiel... Cas desperately needs to power up a lot and often to fight his war, and the soul of Lucifer's vessel is the most powerful one around. Sam helps him willingly, but it's still extremely unpleasant and draining.]

And Thus Was a Giant Felled by

running_hot
Tall guys constantly get roped into changing light bulbs when shorter humans would need to get a ladder -- like the bulbs in the twelve-foot kitchen ceiling at Jess's parents' house. Sam really should have known better than to stand on a swivel chair to do it.

A Sore Topic by

phx69
Highlight to Reveal Summary - Spoilers for 6.18. [Sam, who is the very definition of a novice rider, had to ride 20 miles to Colt's and 20 miles back. I would love me some saddle sore, limping Sam.]

Here It Comes, There It Goes Again by

lavishsqualor
What with detoxes and resoulings, Sam's memories of the panic room can't be good. So it's unfortunate that they are under some supernatural siege at Bobby's and retreating into the panic room and closing the door is the only way to be safe.

Better On Our Own by

si_star_x
Small fracture in a limb--not OBVIOUSLY broken, but hurts like hell, and no, you really can't use the limb. Sam gets it checked, but the first x-ray misses it.

Carried Home by

samidha
Highlight - Spoilers for 6.18. [Dean, after hearing how soul juice helps Castiel, gets the bright idea to use his own soul to help Sam with the whole wall thing ... And if that isn't Sam-hurty enough for this comm, make the process of healing Sam's soul involve remembering hell. Bonus points if the fallout from this involves le classic telepathic soul-bond.]

Visible Evidence by

authoressnebula
Sam's always spent a lot of time online, researching this and that, even when there's no immediate hunt. Dean doesn't think there's anything significant about it now. Though Sam's getting obsessed. Dean wakes up at three, four in the morning to the glow of the laptop screen and the tap of the keyboard. exhausted!sam

A Certain Beginning by

mimblexwimble
AU Pilot. As horrible as the situation is, Dean's still sort of glad to know that 22 years later he can still carry his baby sister out of a burning building, even if she's now a heavily pregnant amazon.

Shot Down in Flames by

winchesterhaunt
Highlight to reveal - spoilers for 6.18. [In the final shootout, both guns were fired. Dean's shot found it's mark. The Phoenix's shot went wide...and hit Sam.]

Hell Shall Not Wash Us Away

brosedshield
The problem with permanent damage to the soul is that death does nothing to fix it. The wall lasts through Sam's life, and he and Dean are in their shared heaven, but there begin to be cracks and fissures. Sam stumbles from happy memories into memories of hell. And because this part of heaven is actually constructed of memory, this is shaking the fabric of things. Just Dean and Sam's heaven for now, but it's going to spread. Cas has a responsibility to heaven; he's going to have to seal off this part and set it adrift. Dean has the choice to leave if he wants to before that happens, but do we really think he'll take it? Cue Dean and Sam in their own bubble apocalypse, where the islands of sanity are fewer and farther between every day.

Panic by

ratherastory
What with detoxes and resoulings, Sam's memories of the panic room can't be good. So it's unfortunate that they are under some supernatural siege at Bobby's and retreating into the panic room and closing the door is the only way to be safe.

Daydreams You Have in Hell by

wave_obscura
Sam now has a Thing about cages. A jail cell is a cage.

balance good, everything good by

de_nugis
Sam and Dean are sparring and Dean slips/misjudges and cracks one of Sam's ribs. Sam doesn't mention it.

Unravelling by

emmram
Highlight to read - spoilers for 6.18 [Castiel has become addicted to the whole soul-touching thing, and Sam's soul? That's something special he can't get enough of. That doesn't make it any more pleasant for Sam.]

Along Every Horizon by

twoskeletons
If Dean were to die on Sam now I don’t think Sam would ... fade, get killed by some random monster, not out of any suicidal drive, but just because he was having trouble paying attention to details like food or sleep or ravening creatures with lots of big, nasty teeth.

Kiss it All Better by

sakura_no_mi
Sam and Dean are having sex and it goes all wrong. Sam falls off the bed and then manages to slam his head against the head board when he and Dean try again. Dean feels guilty and goes overboard in trying to help him recover.

You Have One Saved Message by

killabeez
After Sam gets his phone back, it's time for a new one. The phone company's awesome enough to retrieve his contacts, his address book, his games, his photos, oh, and one voicemail he's had saved for what's now going on almost three years. Dean gets a hold of the new phone with all of this stuff first. Dean hears The Voicemail first. Dean is so not cool with it. Because to keep an email for beyond fourteen days, someone's gotta keep listening to it and making it fresh and resetting the delete date. Which means Sam's still been listening to it.

nothing left to lose by

sikeminatural
When Sam is pulled from Hell by some unknown force (up to the author) a year after the showdown, he has his soul and goes to find Dean who is not living with Lisa but alone, and still hunting. Dean takes him in but its easy to see that Dean depsises Sam, he beats him, verbally abuses him, uses his memories of Hell to hurt him and blames Sam for everything that has happened. Sam becomes brainwashed and at first fights back but then starts to accept it. Would love if Cas or Bobby come and save Sam and make Dean see the error of his ways!

Never Buy Yellow Shoes by

tversan
Sam buys a pair of cursed shoes that squeeze his precious little feet. He hobbles around, unable to take the wretched things off and they seem to get smaller and smaller the more he tries.

Heart of Stone by

mamapranayama
A curse slowly turns Sam into stone. Frist his feet, then his legs - working its way up until he's completely motionless, cold hard rock. Your descision whether or not he's accompanied, whether the curse is broken, or whether he's simply left to turn to stone alone.

Some Guys Have All the Luck by

si_star_x
Gen. S1-S3. Sam passes a Kidney Stone... or a series of them (your choice whether there's only one or several of them) -- and possibly has a kidney infection on top of it. Just give me whimper-y, tear-y Sam trying to piss and failing and the little he manages to pass is bloody and feels like shards of burning glass.

Let it Bleed by

sakura_no_mi
Sam got into a fight (with a person or a monster), he's roughened up a bit, sore, bruised, scratched and dirty, and he really, really doesn't have any strength left. Dean drags him (carries, really) to a motel room, undresses him, grabs a wet washcloth and starts to clean him up in silence. His touches go from caring to sensuous to heated while all the time being very slow, deliberate and careful. Sam lies there and takes it, mesmerized by his brother's touch, his breath catching and heart beating faster.

To Die For a Memory by

authressnebula
Season five. Sam is captured by a Djiin or some similar creature that keeps its prey docile by trapping them in a mental prison. Whatever the brain spits up as a treasured, wonderful memory becomes the gilded prison that keeps you docile and too happy to fight back. Dean saves the day and kills the creature, but Sam won't wake up. Desperate, Dean whips up some dreamroot tea and goes in after him.

Out of the Dark by

samidha
Sam accidentally gets trapped in the panic room for reasons up to the author. Dean doesn't find him until Sam's in the midst of a flashback with Accusing!Dean and doesn't recognize real!Dean. Dean has to talk him back to reality.

Fade, Far Away, Dissolve, and Quite Forget by

minviendha
Gen or Wincest AU of "The End"- In "The End" when Dean tells Sam that they should stay away from one another, Sam takes it to heart. He cuts off all ties with Bobby and any other mutual acquaintances in order to avoid inadvertently having contact with Dean. Not because he doesn't WANT to see Dean (he does) but he knows that Dean doesn't want to see HIM, and he's pretty sure he's a curse to anyone who cares about him. So it's just better that he disappear.

All is Fine by

moviegeek03
Teen!Chesters. Dean's away on a hunt with Caleb and with Dean gone there's no buffer between Sam and John. Sam isn't meaning to be all angsty and rebelling against his Dad but the new school he's in he's having a hard time because he's getting bullied almost constantly and it's hard hiding bruises and cuts from his Dad but he manages somehow. He didn't want to tell Dean because he doesn't want to appear weak in his eyes and he sure as hell doesn't want to tell his Dad because he knows what his Dad will say No son of mine just get's bullied. Cue John not being a total dick but somehow finding out what Sam's been going through and comforts him/takes care of the problem.

He Ain't Heavy by

beamin_sunshine
After getting his soul back, or maybe after a couple seizures, Sam wakes up in Dean's bed, which is definitely not where he was when he went to sleep. Sam is embarrassed, even though Dean doesn't really mind all that much. But then it keeps happening, with Sam never remembering getting up. Now Dean's starting to get a little annoyed because, as much as he loves the kid, Sam is not the best person to share a bed with, he moves around and makes noises and clings, so Dean gets him his own hotel room, just so he can get some sleep for once. But even that doesn't keep Sam away. As mangled as his soul is, once the brain is shut down, it's going to go find it's mate. Gen, please.

Big Things, Small Packages by

winchesterhaunt
2.06, No Exit. H.H. Holmes doesn't usually take men, but he is getting dangerously close to his lair. Sam's trapped in a space nearly to tight for him to turn his head. His knees ache from being crammed up against the top, his scalp is bleeding, he's pretty sure his wrist is messed up worse, there's a hysterical woman with him for company, and all he can do is wait and hope for Dean and Jo to find him.

Points of Authority by

kiscinca
So the boys have just gotten back together after taking a break, and they're already arguing with each other, or really, Dean's arguing with Sam while Sam's attempting to not argue but still getting pissed off at Dean. Then Dean throws down the trump card: that Castiel was the one who saved Dean, not Sam. Sam was obviously too busy screwing Ruby.

Really Bad Day at Black Rock by

gwendolynd
Dean has to cut off one of Sam's limbs.

Just One of Those Weeks by

authoressnebula
Sam is having a really, really, really, crappy week and just needs a hug...

To Die for a Memory

authoressnebula
Sam is captured by a Djiin or some similar creature that keeps its prey docile by trapping them in a mental prison. Whatever the brain spits up as a treasured, wonderful memory becomes the gilded prison that keeps you docile and too happy to fight back. Dean saves the day and kills the creature, but Sam won't wake up. Desperate, Dean whips up some dreamroot tea and goes in after him. He finds Sam reliving the same memory over and over again - the two of them as kids, playing hooky from training, laying out in a field of grass on a summer day watching clouds and wrestling and just being BROTHERS.

Until Death Do Us Part by

phx69
I don't care what the situation. I just want Dean carrying Sam bridal style.

All Waters Have the Color of Drowning by

minviendha
Meg captures the boys -- somehow -- and decides to have some fun with them -- because she's crazy. And as she goes to work on Sam, she somehow accidentally triggers a Hell seizure. Her reaction: Ooh, Sammy. Twice the bang for the buck. Let's do that again!

Aim, Shoot, Repeat by

authoressnebula
"There's a pattern in the system,
there's a bullet in the gun.
That's why I tried to save you,
but it can't be done.
It can't be done."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

By the time they got to the station the cop was shaking his head. “I’ll convince Junior to drop the assault charge,” he told Dean, because Sam was supposedly incoherently drunk. “You keep your brother out of trouble from now on, ya hear? Tell him his twins need him. Bottle ain’t gonna solve none of his problems.”

The cop had them processed and thrown in the drunk tank together until morning. It wasn’t perfect, but it beat being stuck in separate cells for 24 hours or more.

In the drunk tank, Dean beamed with big-brotherly pride. “Excellent performance, dude. Well done.”

Sam smiled, but it was a smile like something hurt. He crossed his arms and sat down on the bench so close to Dean that their shoulders and knees were touching. A drop of sweat fell from his hairline.

The drunk tank was thankfully fairly empty, just Sam and Dean, some guy sleeping on the floor under the opposite bench, and a young kid spitting bile into the floor drain. A loudly ticking clock hung on the wall outside the cell.

The bile-spitter eyeballed them. “You got any smokes?”

“We don’t smoke,” Dean said.

“Assholes,” the bile-spitter replied.

Dean opened his mouth, closed it again. He felt Sam’s hand around his wrist, trembling. “What’s wrong?” Dean pushed Sam’s hair out of his face. His skin was clammy.

“When are they gonna let us out of here?”

“What’s wrong? That fucking guy hurt you somewhere?”

Sam scrubbed his face and dug two fingers into his temple. He took a long breath, straightened up and looked somewhat normal again. “I just wanna know when we get outta here.”

“Round eight o’clock would be my guess,” Dean said. “Few hours.”

“I don’t wanna be in here.” Sam knocked his knee against Dean’s, swallowed, arched his back. The gesture reminded Dean of all those times-- too many times-- Sam had been injured without proper pain medication. Sitting around all night helpless while his little brother writhed in pain.

He patted Sam down for injury, starting with his belly where he was hugging at himself. Sam let him, but maybe because he wasn’t all there. He had his chin to the ceiling, head rolling slowly from one shoulder to the other. His eyes were just barely open, just enough for tears to leak under his lashes.

“Sam,” Dean demanded, “tell me where you’re hurt.”

“Nowhere you can touch,” Sam muttered, and surprised Dean by smiling. The tears dripped into the corners of his mouth.

And then it wasn’t a smile anymore. Dean didn’t know what to call it, but it was vastly, terrifyingly miserable. Icy despair flooded his insides. “Sam? What...?”

“I’m never gonna get out of here,” Sam said. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, then into his head. One hand reached out at nothing. His chest heaved, too fast, too fast. “Never. Dean. Never.”

Dean tried to catch his brother’s arm; Sam tugged it away with a whine. It was noise almost from his performance has Sam-the-failed-car-salesmen-with-cheating-wife-and-autistic-twins, and for a fleeting moment Dean thought maybe-- hoped, even, that Sam was playing some kind of fucked up joke.

“What the hell are you talking about? Sammy? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Sam began to shiver. The sweat disappeared from his body and his teeth were clattering.

“What’s wrong with him?” The bile-spitter in the corner said.

“Shut up,” Dean snarled. He ran his hands up and down Sam’s arms. “I need help.” He raised his voice to roar. “I NEED SOME FUCKING HELP IN HERE.”

He shouldn’t be calling for help. They’d want to put Sam in the hospital, his symptoms were unexplainable, they might make Dean stay here in this fucking cell while they rushed Sam off alone.

The cop, the same cop who brought them in, came sauntering into the room. He was obviously used to hysterics. By this time Sam was convulsing with shivers, he had his face in Dean’s shoulder and was muttering into his sleeve. He kept wanting to flail his arms; Dean kept them pinned in his own lap.

“He needs out of this cell,” Dean said to the cop. “Please-- being trapped... he can’t handle...”

Dean trailed off. It was an explanation that made sense to him, of course, but to a cop? Probably the stupidest thing a man ever said to try to get out of jail.

The cop put his face closer to the cell and raised his eyebrows. Off in the corner, the bile-spitter heaved and vomited loudly into the drain. “Your boys gotta a flair for drama, don’t ya? You keep him calm or I’ll have to isolate him.”

He disappeared again. Sam’s lips were turning blue. He skin was cold. His shivering shook Dean to his bones.

“I’d get so cold in the cage, my body was all ice,” Sam whispered. His eyes rolled in his head. “Crumble apart if I moved too quick. Scratch my head? All my fingers would break off. Then my whole hand. They’d laugh, while I crumbled like that. They laughed, I crumbled.”

He freed his shaking hand from Dean’s grip and held it up for Dean to see. “Melting was bloody,” he said, and his face collapsed. “Dean, I need out. I need out. I need out.”

“Shhh,” Dean said. He wrapped himself around Sam. Sam was big but he had a way of disappearing into Dean when he needed to, he would shrink right up. He fit just right against Dean’s chest and stopped shaking just a little bit. “This isn’t the cage, Sammy. You know that. And I got you, okay? Not him. Me. Dean. Okay? Me.”

Sam moved against Dean’s chest in what he guessed was a nod. “Not as cold as I feel.”

“No. Just a little while, Sam, and we’re free, okay? Just a little while.”

Dean held his brother, and tried not to think about what he said. The cold. Body turned to ice, crumbling. Probably while Michael and Lucifer stood over him, laughed at his fear. Dean knew better than anybody that being in agony was one thing-- having it mocked, having someone reduce your fear to a game-- that was entirely different. Entirely more terrible.

Beneath him Sam jumped. He fought his way out of Dean’s grip. His eyes were wild, but tired. “I feel like it’s gonna happen again.”

“What?” Dean said, but he already knew. A seizure. A hell memory. Minutes like weeks.

“No. No no no... look at the clock,” Dean took his brother by the jaw, maybe less gently than he should have, and point his face to the clock outside the cell. “Watch the second hand. It’ll keep moving. And then we’ll be free, okay? Just a little while, Sam. You can hold on.”

Sam laid against Dean once more, kept his sagging eyes on the clock. “I need out, Dean,” he whispered.

“I know. I know, and we’re gonna. Just a little while.”

They watched the clock. Dean counted the seconds. Sam shivered until his muscles jumped and spasmed with fatigue. Dean burned with rage. If that fucking cop-- any of these fucking cops knew what Sam had done for them, for all of them, if they’d ever experienced the sound of laughter mixed with indescribable pain, watched in abject horror as their own flesh rotted away from their bones--

“HEY,” Dean called. He rested a hand over Sam’s ear. “OFFICER FRIENDLY!”

The cop came back, blank-faced, chewing on a ballpoint pen. He wasn’t a bad guy, Dean could tell. Just bored with an endless parade of drunks. He looked at Dean with fatigue, and Dean looked at him with desperation.

He had no plan. He stared at the cop, Sam shivered against him, and he had no plan to get out.

“He went to hell for you,” Dean found himself saying. He sounded insane. He knew he sounded insane, but he kept talking, “He burned, froze, bled in hell for a hundred years.”

The cop sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “Are we gonna have a problem?”

Dean tried several scenarios in his head. He could lure the cop closer to the bars, break his fingers or knock him out. He could try to convince the cop that Sam was having a medical emergency and needed an ambulance, break the EMT’s fingers and knock him out. He could threaten to kill the bile-spitter unless the cop let them free.

But there would only be more cops, more guns, more cages.

“No,” Dean said, “We don’t have a problem.”

The cop looked relieved. He gave them one last suspicious glance, then turned and left.

Dean pulled Sam a little closer. “Just a little while longer, buddy, alright?”

Sam moved so his face was buried in Dean’s neck. His breath was cold. His fingers clutched painfully at Dean’s bicep.

“Lucifer was good to me for a while,” he whispered. “Almost twenty years. He held me too. He said the punishment was over. He said it was over and when I finally relaxed... I almost believed him, Dean. And then he ripped me open. He made me slurp the bile out of my intestines. I know the flavor of my own guts.”

“So do I. Don’t. Sammy. Please.”

For so long Dean had wanted Sam to talk about it. But he couldn’t handle it, he knew that now. Because in the back of his throat he could still taste his own insides. It would taint anything he put in his mouth for the rest of his life.

“You’re okay, Sammy. And I’m okay. And tomorrow morning we’re gonna walk and then no more cages, okay? Ever.”

Sam took a rattling breath. He was trying hard to hold on. “Don’t let me pass out, Dean. I’ll go there.”

“I’m not gonna let you pass out.”

“How much longer?”

“Just a little while. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re with me, Sammy. Not him. Not him. You’re with me. We just got in a bar fight, and you were awesome, Sam, you totally saved my ass, and that performance you gave that cop? That was--”

That was it.

“Tell me about your made up wife, Sammy,” Dean said, his heart pounding with hope. “Tell me about your cheating, made up wife.”

He thought maybe he saw Sam smile. “She cheated on me.”

“What else? Come on, Sam. What else?”

“She has a blond perm. I hate it. I think she did it for her boyfriend.”

“Who’s her boyfriend?”

This time Sam definitely smiled. “My brother. My no good brother.”

“Really? Come on, man--”

“--not you. You’re my good brother. His name is Dave. He’s a total dick.”

“Tell me more about Dave.”

And on and on they went. Sam met his wife at a farmer’s market one fateful spring afternoon. There was a cloud burst and she offered to share her umbrella. It was love at first sight. She adored football and he was a fanatic. They dressed like Lois and Clark for Halloween.

But everything changed when the twins were born. She didn’t want to believe they had a condition. She didn’t want to believe they were anything less than perfect.

“I told her,” Sam said sleepily, his forehead still pressed against Dean’s neck, “I told her ‘they are perfect.’ But they also need help.’”

It destroyed their marriage. She slept with his brother. He slept with a woman he met in a support group.

By the time the jail cell gate clattered open, Sam was closing down his car lot and declaring bankruptcy. Dean looked at the hanging clock. They had made it. He couldn’t fucking believe they made it.

He helped Sam stand. He was white like death and his knees were shaking. He regarded the bars of the cell like they might eat him alive. Dean kept an arm around his back.

“You did awesome,” he told Sam. “I don’t know where you come up with this shit.”

Sam looked very, very tired. But he smiled. “Embarrassing, what you daydream about in hell. The more mundane, the more cliche, the better.”

Dean nodded. “Dude. You don’t even want to know what I daydreamed about in hell.”

They stepped out into the sun. Sam sighed with vast relief, and Dean sighed, too. They just stood. Dean had a million things he wanted to say, didn’t want to say, didn’t want to think about.

“Maybe we’ll stay outta jail for a while, huh?” he said to Sam.

Sam laughed, or maybe burst into tears, Dean couldn’t tell which.

“Yeah, maybe so.”

:::

The end.

I enjoyed that! Especially the way you worked the hell daydream throughout, first as a joke and later as therapy. Really clever!

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed.

Sam's daydreams are hysterical.

Glad you enjoyed :)

Squeeeeeee!! You make my chest feel funny things and it feels WONDERFUL! I love Sam's made up mundane life.

You make me happy <3

I loved it, and most of all I loved the acknowledgment of the shared experience of Hell, it's no small deal to bridge any differences :)

Thank you so much for reading :D

I loved this! Even though you almost broue my heart! T_T Especially with the second to last line.

I loved this line: "I told her they are perfect. But they also need help." I don't know if you meant it that way, but it almost feels like it has a double meaning to it, like Sam's relating to them or something. IDK, it just crossed my mind.

Perhaaaaaps it does :)

Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely comment :)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

comment fic meme!

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 2/4

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 3/4

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 4/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5

Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5