OhSam Triple Play 2015!

[ohsam-mod.livejournal.com]

The comm hosted this little event a couple of years ago, and as November 2 is an auspicious day for our darling Sam, today would be the perfect time to revisit this challenge. Welcome to the Triple Play 2015!





BOOST THE SIGNAL

<center><a href="http://ohsam.livejournal.com/845164.html"><img src="http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p125/quickreaver/TriplePlayBanner_zps5764ce43.jpg"></a></center>


And here's how we play!

Step One (mandatory): Write a three-part prompt.
1.) Pick a setting
2.) Pick an additional character or characters (Sam is assumed, naturally.)
3.) Pick an H/C scenario, with Sam as the focus. Other characters can share the misery, but Sam should get the brunt of it. That's how we roll. :D

You can make as many prompts as your little heart desires, one set per comment, but it would probably work best if kept simple. For instance: 1.) the Impala 2.) Dean 3.) a hangover, or 1.) autumn 2.) Rowena 3.) a curse.

Step Two (optional): Participants can choose to make visual art: create a drawing, painting, photomanip, or video based around an offered prompt set. All three points must be addressed. The art can be doodled or extravagantly detailed, artist’s choice. And, of course, Sam should be the primary focus of the h/c. Please reply with your art under the prompt you choose, and either put the art beneath a cut or supply a link to it, with appropriate header and warnings! (See "Posting Guidelines" in the left sidebar.) As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD.

Step Three (optional): Participants could also choose to write a ficlet, again with Sam as the primary victim of our dastardly h/c scenarios. (No minimum or maximum word count is required; just go where the muse takes you, as long or short as you'd like.) Again, please reply with your fic under the chosen prompt set, using the appropriate header and warnings. (See "Posting Guidelines" in the left sidebar.) As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD.

If more than one author or artist wants to work with the same prompt, have at it! The ideal goal is to make a Triple Play, where a prompt set gets both art and fic – the art potentially inspiring the fic or the fic inspiring the art. But no matter how it's sliced, we get lots of delicious Sammy h/c! Have all the fun … at Sam’s expense. ;)

The usual courtesies apply:
→ If you notice that your fic is not on the master list after a decent amount of time (say, three days), please poke us in a PM. We might have missed it.
→ 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!



MASTERLIST

Sick City by fireheart13
1.) Las Vegas
2.) Dean
3.) Gall stones

Better Than Trick or Treat by septembers_coda
1. town of 200 people
2. john
3. parasite

What's in a Job by cherry916
1. the bunker
2. a service dog
3. PTSD

Hour of Darkness by amypond45
1. Squatting in an abandoned building.
2. Mary.
3. Fever dream.

Twist in the Wind by thursdaysisters
1.) the bottom of a ravine
2.) the ghost of Sarah Blake
3.) broken bones

Untitled by caranfindel
1. The bunker (maybe a newly discovered part?)
2. Dean
3. Impaled

It's Gotta Be a Hex by tarotgal
1. Crappy motel room
2. Dean and John
3. Strep throat

We Shall Gather at the River by crowroad3
1. Monument Valley
2. Dean
3. Staked out in the burning sun

Break No Bones by milly_gal
a) Bobby's panic room
b) Bobby and/or Dean
c) broken leg

What You Don't Know (Can Kill You) by center_galaxy
1. A foggy deserted road.
2. Jess
3. Car accident.

Bleed by hugglewolf
1) The Bunker
2) Cas
3) Sam wakes up wounded and weak from blood loss on the floor of the Bunker—with no memory of how he got there, how he got hurt, or where Dean is.

Tornado Warning by ameliacareful
1.) Setting: somewhere flat and Midwestern
2.) Other character: Dean
3.) H/C scenario: tornado related injuries

(Art) Untitled by cassiopeia7
1. pacific northwest
2. dean
3. drowning

West of Omaha by laughablelament
1) the lonesome highway
2) Dean & whoever's in the trunk
3) feverish magic-induced flashbacks

It's Gotta Be The Pie by tarotgal
1.) the bunker in the middle of the night
2.) Dean
3.) stomach flu

Stone Number One by caranfindel
1. Bobby's
2. Hallucifer
3. Psychotic episode that doesn't seem to want to end

(Art) Vatican Prison by amberdreams
1) Vatican jail cell
2) Dean
3) stigmata

It's Gotta Be At Least 200 Stairs by tarotgal
1. fire escape
2. Dean
3. permanent limp

Remember by soserendipity
1. A cornfield at night.
2. Dean.
3. Bleeding out.

Surf's Up by firesign10
1) The beach
2) Jess
3) Kelpie attack

Can We Call It Bob? by soserendipity
1. Hanging off the ledge of a bridge/tall building
2. Dean
3. Dislocation

Cor Unum by crowroad3
1) the bunker
2) Dean
3) heart condition

The Forest at Night by thursdaysisters
1) Car accident
2) John
3) Head Injury

I Can Move Forward Looking Back by hugglewolf
1) A hunt
2) A hunter (one we've met, or a new one)
3) PTSD

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream by center_galaxy
1.) Stanford
2.) Brady
3.) Chronic insomnia

The Definition of Insanity by center_galaxy
1. The Impala
2. Dean
3. Gunshot wound to the gut

In the Woodsman's Cottage by thursdaysisters
1.) Setting: a forest
2.) Other character: Bobby
3.) H/C scenario: bear trap

Shaken by cowboyguy
1. A laundromat
2. Dean
3. Trying to heal from a bad fight while trying to wash blood out of their clothes

It's Gotta Be a Plane This Time? by tarotgal
1) Airport security gate
2) Dean
3) bullet wound

Trapped by cowboyguy
1. tunnels
2. Dean
3. mutism/voice loss

Cold as Ice by indiachick
1.) Byberry Mental Hospital
2.) Dean
3.) botched lobotomy

The Source of All Sorrows by center_galaxy
1.) Hospital
2.) Charlie
3.) coma

Draconids by crowroad3
1.) High school
2.) EMTs
3.) Fever

Like a Rock by caranfindel
1.) middle of nowhere
2.) Baby
3.) dislocated shoulder

Dead River by crowroad3
1. Impala
2. The ghost of a loved one
3. Poisoned

Broken Memories by cherry916
1) motel room
2) Jody Mills
3) head injury/concussion

Hidden by hugglewolf
1. backwoods
2. castiel
3. buckshot

Empty Hearts by center_galaxy
1.) Hospital
2.) Charlie
3.) Panic attack

Unsettled by cowboyguy
1.) the bunker in the middle of the night
2.) Dean
3.) stomach flu

Splintered by themegalosaurus
1. THE BUNKER
2. DEMON!DEAN
3. HAMMER

Fingerprint by anonymous
1. Impala
2. Dean
3. touch starvation

It's Gotta Be Four in the Morning by tarotgal
1. Roadhouse
2. Ellen
3. Respiratory illness

Bitter and Sick by indiachick
1. Setting is author's choice
2. Dean
3. Forced/tricked into ingesting demon blood

words like glass by anonymous
1.) Camp Chitaqua, post-apocalypse
2.) Dean, Stoner Cas
3.) disfigurement, mutism

Feathers and Claws by themegalosaurus
1) Decrepit old building
2) A priest
3) Demonic possession

Maleficus by crowroad3
1. Field at night
2. Witch doctors
3. Blood-letting

Sup by hugglewolf
1) A grassy field at night
2) Castiel
3) Poison

It's Gotta Be a Damn Ghost by tarotgal
1. A busy bar in Stanford
2. Jess/Brady/Becky/Zach/Luis (any or all!)
3. Beaten up (bruises, bloody nose, scrapes, or maybe even a broken bottle to the head/body!)

Somewhere, Beyond the Sea by center_galaxy
1) Somewhere watery
2) Dean
3) Amnesia

Dis(connected) by center_galaxy
1) On the end of a phone
2) Bobby or Castiel
3) Blood loss, in and out of consciousness

It's Gotta Be a Day and a Half Now by tarotgal
1.) Singer Salvage scrap yard
2.) Bobby
3.) exhaustion

Placebo by anonymous
1) the woods
2) Dean
3) bitten by a snake

Hiss by cowboyguy
1) the woods
2) Dean
3) bitten by a snake

Across the clouds I see my shadow fly by caranfindel
1) Coffee shop or Diner
2) Employee of said establishment
3) Gun shot wound

Check It Out by themegalosaurus
1. MOL Bunker
2. Dean (and/or Charlie, Cas, or Kevin)
3. A curse involving plaid shirts or plaid in general (you're screwed, Sammy! Will they figure it out?)

The End of the World (and Back Again) by harrigan
1. A boathouse
2. Dean
3. Permanent physical disability (knee/hip/leg etc)

If Only by foolscapper
1. Hell, the cage
2. Castiel
3. hallucinations

Bitten (art) by foolscapper
1.) zombie infested suburbia
2.) Dean, Bobby
3.) bitten

Play It Again, Sam by caranfindel
1) A hospital
2) Dr Cara Roberts
3) Axe wound(s) to the upper body

The Mustard Seed by kettle_o_fish
1. Out on a case
2. Dean
3. Sam develops minor healing powers (not angel-level resurrection or demon killing, more like curing lesser illnesses, fixing broken bones, moderate wounds, etc). However, each time he helps someone, there's a drain on his own health/strength. Dean wonders if it's worth the toll it takes on Sam.

Comments

[madebyme-x.livejournal.com]

1. Hanging off the ledge of a bridge/tall building
2. Dean
3. Dislocation

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Hello, sweets! So, after months of absence I check back in with LJ and see this going on. Of course I'm immediately wishing for fills for all these awesome prompts.

But then yours! The muses kinda tackle-hugged me into submission, so I wrote a thing for it. I never did a comment fill before so I hope I got it right-ish. No idea whether it's like anything you had in mind, but there you go.

Much love, hunny, I hope life's treating you kind! <3

[madebyme-x.livejournal.com]

\o/ What beautiful day it is - firstly, I'm so happy to see you, and secondly, I get a prompt filled by you!!! Thank you ♥

I'm 100% sure that I'll love it because you wrote it and I always enjoy your writing. I hope all is well with you. Take care :) *dashes off to read fic*

Filled: Can we call it Bob? (1/?)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

"Sammy, don't you dare."

It's not a shout, not a command, it's a statement. Spoken almost softly and if Sam could lift his head, he's sure Dean would wear this earnest look, the private one that nearly no-one ever gets to see, but Sam knows it well. It's the we're-at-the-end-of-the-line look, the I'm-proud-of-us one, and Sam's heart thumps hard against his ribcage because he can't deal with those memories, not right now.

Not ever.

"C'mon," Dean says, "c'mon, just grab it!"

Now there's desperation bleeding into the words and Sam hates it when Dean sounds like that, hates it even more if Sam himself is the cause for the distress, and he would like nothing more than do what Dean asks of him, he honestly would, but.

"Can't," he says, eyes still screwed shut, "fuck, Dean, I. I can't."

"It's right there," Dean says, "right there. You just gotta grab it!"

Sam opens his eyes at that, squints at the murky beam of Dean's flashlight, and sure enough, there's a rope dangling to his right. He sees it out of the corner of his eyes. It's close enough to almost brush his side and Sam thinks that this must be the most ironic way to die for him yet.

He doesn't know how to break the news to Dean. Doesn't want him to think that Sam's given up, that he's leaving Dean by any measure of Sam's own will, but fuck if he has a choice here.

"Shoulder," Sam finally says, swallows against the rising nausea, follows up with, "it's busted again."

And it is. His right arm hangs limply at his side, pins and needles chasing each other all the way to his fingertips. Hot poker through his shoulder with every little twitch of his body. Nerves all around it misfiring, worse than the first time around. Dislocated for sure, maybe more. There was a distinct pop when he went over, trying to hold on to whatever he could grab, and Sam's not sure he didn't tear something vital there.

Whatever he did, his right side is useless. And he doesn't want to risk just going for the rope with his left, isn't sure he'll get a grip before plummeting both him and the dead weight clinging to him down into the river. Isn't sure he could come up again, what with just one working shoulder and the blob still attached.

Above, Dean must have come to similar conclusions because he swears under his breath and Sam sees the rope zipping up and out of his line of sight. He can't exactly look where it's going, though, can't see what's happening above at all, because the pain is kinda manageable if he stays very, very still. It's still excrutiating. But it's not crippling and he's able to hold on through it and that has to be enough, because.

Because.

Right now, there's only one way to go and that's down.

Filled: Can we call it Bob? (2/?)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

"I swear to god, Sammy," Dean mutters above, angry, but not at him, Sam hopes, because how is it his fault when the monster just launches itself at him, out of nowhere, and tries to eat him alive?

Then Dean again, louder, "Just, hang on, ok? Hang on, Sam! Gonna, - what the hell, how much fucking rope - gonna come down and get you."

After a beat of silence, there's barely held back panick in Dean's next, "Sam? Sam!"

But fuck if Sam is up to small talk right now. The simple task of breathing hurts. Also, his left leg is slowly going numb. The thing must have found skin, Sam thinks dumbly, fuck.

"Sam," Dean shouts again, "Sam!"

"Bring the machete," Sam finally grits out, and something clatters above before Dean leans down over the railing again, no doubt, trying to see what's going on. Useless, though, because it's pitch black out here, backwater road not even important enough to get a real name, Riverside is what the locals call it and that's that. No streetlamps either, just the Impala's headlights and the beam of their flashlights fighting through the fog.

Yeah, no way can Dean see from up there.

"Suckers," Sam says and wishes Dean would just hurry up, "thing got me, my. My leg." Thing's fucking heavy, too.

"Shit," Dean says, "shit shit shit," and the movements above go frantic. Good thing, too, because they know the monster releases some sort of neurotoxin into its victims' bloodstreams. Tox scans were all over the place. Not lethal, the coroner said, but more than enough to knock them out.

Sam's fingers hurt where they clamp around something. Wooden, probably, with a hard edge that makes it difficult to maintain his grip. He feels how his fingers want to slip, how he starts to sweat or maybe bleed, how they burn like fire, like ice, like being crushed one by one, and they want to twitch so badly, Sam can tell, but they can't, he won't allow them, so he forcibly mutes whatever's going on around him and just concentrates, hang on, hang on, he chants in his head, hold on, hang on, breathe, but he doesn't know how much time he has left. A minute or two, tops, he guesses. Seriously, what a shitty way to go.

Sam just hopes that he took the monster with him. He can't tell, can't look down for fear of aggravating his shoulder, but he knows he got it with the knife half a dozen times at least, hopes the thing's good and dead, just hanging on because the suckers still, well, suck. Or - do monsters go unconscious, too? Sam should research that when they're back home. Research this thing in general, because it's a first for them.

It had lead them to the middle of nowhere via some newspaper article about monsters from the deep, kraken-something or other. 500 souls kinda town with locals too scared by recent events to open up to strangers. Made research a tedious task, but thankfully - no, sadly, Sam auto-edits - there were enough bodies to figure it out. Or give them a vague idea, at least.

Because they thought they were dealing with some water based monster, the way all victims were found in or near the river. Something tentacle-y, they thought.

They'd be safe on the bridge, they thought.

They were wrong.

Filled: Can we call it Bob? (3/?)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

It's a. Well, a thing. A blob. Something blue-ish purple with no discernable shape, something that obviously doesn't need water to survive because it attacked them as soon as they left the car, vaulting out of the darkness before Sam even made it to the trunk.

It's not a massive blob, that much he's seen in the few seconds it was bathed into the car's rearlights, but its big enough to jump a grown man and then kinda melt all around that body, suckers strong enough to bruise its victims through several layers of clothing. They've seen the bodies, it wasn't pretty. Also, ouch. His leg feels like one huge bruse where the thing is still hanging on to him.

It's dumb luck that he isn't dead yet, pure instinct that had him catching the knife Dean threw it at him before the blob's momentum rolled them away from the car, away and over and over, Sam slashing into the shapeless softness, sticky goo making his grip on the monster even more ineffective. Then the sound of wood splintering and the world tipping over when they must have gone straight through the railing of the bridge, Sam loosing the knife and grappling for hold, for anything to stop the fall.

He thinks they should call it Bob. Bob the blob. Sam saw it first, on account of the thing trying to suck itself all around him, so Sam should get to name it this time. Blobbity-Bob.

"Almost there, Sammy, almost. Just gotta-" there's more rustling and then a faint vibration under Sam's fingers when Dean swings himself over the railing, bouncing off the bridge, hard, in his hurry to go down the side of it.

"Fuck," Sam whispers, trying to ignore the knots his left arm is trying to pretzel itself into, muscles bunching with the strain, fingers starting to cramp in a way he didn't know they could. The numbness has spread from his knee to his hip, it's as if he ends there and he doesn't understand why he's still so heavy.

Logically, he should be a leg lighter by now. Holding on should get easier. Doesn't make sense. He's getting dizzy, too. Maybe Dean knows, Sam should ask him.

"Right here, Sammy, I gotcha," Dean says from slightly above, "Just, fuck. Few more seconds, alright, gotta get it - there you go," and then there's a pull around Sam's waist, and another, even tighter, and his whole body goes to the right. The strain on his arm is almost unbearable now and his fingers want to twitch so bad and both his shoulders are on fire, and Sam kinda wants to cry.

"Fucking blo- Bobbity," he says, because none of this is his fault, for once. It's the blob's. Bob's.

"Let go," Dean says, right into his ear this time, "I've got you, Sam. You're safe now. Let go, come on."

"Can't, can't leggo. Gotta. Hang on," he tells Dean, because Sam doesn't want to leave him again, honestly.

"I know, Sammy, I know," and this doesn't sound right, this is Dean fighting emotions, sad ones. Sam knows that tone.

"Whaz wrong?" Sam asks.

"Hold on to me, Sam. Ok? You're not leaving, just. Hold on to me instead, ok?"

There's something pushing his fingers away from their hold and panick bolts through Sam like lightning, but there's nothing he can do, his sweaty fingers losing their hold one by one. He doesn't want to go. Needs Dean to know that Sam wants to stay. Does.

"I know, and you will," Dean says, and with a final spasm that Sam feels down to the five toes he has left, his hand slips. No, he wants to shout, but Dean's shushing him before he can even take a breath, says, "There you go. That's it," and clamps Sam's fingers into the collar of Dean's jacket. Dean sounds so relieved that Sam goes with it, just like he always does, just how they are, him the flotsam to the force of nature that is his brother.

Heh. Flot-Sam. Take that, Blob-Bob.

His butt feels funny.

Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

"Jesus fucking Christ," Dean says into Sam's hair where Sam's head plopped down onto Dean's shoulder.

"Damn, kiddo, what the hell did you have for dinner?"

"Nu-uh," Sam says, because he knows they're heavy, but it's not even him. "The, the Blob. Izz Bob. Not me."

"What?" Dean asks.

"Got me," Sam adds, and wills Dean to understand because things are going plenty fuzzy and Sam's shoulder is busted, maybe both of them, so he won't be able to help pull them up, but Dean won't be able to pull all three of them up and Bob doesn't deserve it, either, Sam thinks, the thing should really, really die already and whoa, the world starts spinning. Bad Bob.

"Bad," Sam says, because Dean still doesn't seem to get it, and Sam just hopes he brought that machete after all.

"What?" Dean says again.

"Bad Blorb. Er, Borb. Izz him, not me. Fucking-" Sam says, trying to shake the leg that he kinda hopes is still there to make his point, but there's nothing, complete numbness aside.

That's when Dean gets with the program and turns the flashlight down to where Bob's still swinging slowly underneath, one part of his gelatineous body still wrapped around Sam's leg. From where Sam rests his head on Dean, he can just make out the blue-ish purple mass and his leg, thank god, his leg is still there, too.

It takes some maneuvering and some inventive cursing on Dean's part, but he manages to slice most of the blob-thing away from what's still sucking happily on Sam, and then the world goes even more unsteady when Dean's jostling them left to right and back again, and Sam wants to complain but somehow can't bring himself to care enough. His shoulders both hurt, one more than the other, but other than that a tingly feeling's starting to buzz all the way through him, numbing the little aches and scrapes and bruises. Kinda nice, actually. Kinda. Humm.

"Damn, kiddo," Dean says and pats Sam's chest, but it's not as urgent as earlier, just a bit exasperated, and Sam opens his eyes. Must have lost a bit of time because they're back on the bridge, surely, because that's the Impala, right there, and Sam can't help but smile at the sleek blackness. Even fuzzy, she's one beautiful lady. Not that Sam would ever admit that to Dean, though.

Dean who suddenly looks at Sam with suspiciously shiny eyes as if Sam just got him a whole cherry pie, just 'cause Dean deserves something good in his life, too; Dean who pats Sam's chest again, says, "Are you with me, Sammy?" as if Sam would ever be anywhere else if he had the choice.

Sam nods and he still feels all-over numb so his shoulders don't complain. Much.

"Blob-thing?" Sam says, willing his eys to stay open. It's hard, though.

"Got it off you already," Dean says, poking Sam's side, "How's it feel?"

"Buzzy," Sam says, and smiles up at his brother, who's bathed in the headlights of the Impala, sweaty and grimy and with blue-purple strikes of goo all over his clothes and bare arms. Best sight Sam ever laid his eyes on, hands down. His vision goes more swirly and he's so tired, just wants to sleep for a week. Maybe two.

Blobbel must have injected him with that thing. Toxing. Good hunting technique. Theoretically. Sam would be more impressed if it hadn't tried to digest him, though.

"Trieta - uh, eat me," Sam says, "Blobbel. Bobbelton." Things go fuzzy. Fuzzier. He still can make out his leg, though, lying there, doing nothing.

"Godda have words. With the leg," Sam says, eyes dipping closed. If he could, he'd stare accusingly at the lack of movement. Not even a toe-wriggle, there.

"Sure thing, Sammy," Dean says, and there's fondness there, now, through the blurred blinking of Sam's vision, and a small smile, and really, that's good. Good enough for Sam.

Surely safe enough to sleep, when Dean looks like that, looks over them like that, so.

Sleep.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[ameliacareful.livejournal.com]

SOOOOO TENSE! I wondered if Sam was going to end up in the river and Dean was going to have to dive after him. Love the drug-drunken wordplay on Blob. Love the monster.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Sorry it took me so long to reply!

Thank you very much for your kind words, I'm very glad you liked it. It was hard to keep the monster on the creepy yet kinda charming side because I didn't want the fic to be too dark. Seems like it worked for you, yay :).

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[caranfindel.livejournal.com]

this is just marvelous. Especially fuzzy minded Sam.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Sorry it took me so long to reply!

Thank you for your lovely comment, I'm glad you enjoyed the story. Fuzzy Sam can be quite entertaining :). I have a thing for getting into people's headspace (or trying to, at least) and this was the perfect opportunity.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[hugglewolf.livejournal.com]

Eeek! Creepy Blob Bob! :)

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Right? Bad monster! No. No eating Sammy.

(Sorry it took me so long to reply!)

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[laughablelament]

Wow. The tension here, Sam slowly losing it, physically and mentally. Eek. And then Dean is there, rescue in effect and Sam turns sweet and funny, hopped up on monster toxin. Wonderful, the build up and release. Love.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Aww, thank you for your thoughtful comment. For once, I didn't much plan ahead and just went were the muses wanted to take this. I'm relieved that it still seemed to work out ok and that it felt balanced to you. Much love!

(Also, sorry it took me so long to reply!)

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[madebyme-x.livejournal.com]

Love it!!!! Love, love, love it!!!! I loved how you jumped straight into the action and then gradually drip fed us the backstory, Bob the blob, the way you captured Sam's pain and his drugged mind, Dean to the rescue - all of it.

You really expanded the prompt too, adding a case into the mix. Thank you so much, it's perfect and filled with tension, drama and wonderful hurt and high-on-blob-toxin Sam! Take care :)

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Yay! I am so happy you like it, hunny! The story developed almost on its own, your prompts were so inspiring. Sam was dangling there and everything else just fell into place :).

Below, a Dean POV of this was mentioned and I might just tackle that, too. It might be neat to see what happened without the Blob affecting one's perception of reality. So your prompts are the gift that keeps on giving, really.

But, man, I'm so sorry it took me this long to reply! I'm trying to catch up on all things LJ right now so you might get a bunch of comment replies from me this weekend. I hope you don't mind. I always like it when instead of just leaving a comment somewhere and wondering whether it was read at all, I get a reply and maybe a nice chat with you lovely people. All those unanswered comments to my own entries totally keep upsetting my zen :).

Anyway. Much love, my dear, and hope to talk again soon. *hugs*

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[reggie11.livejournal.com]

Such tension! Loved Sam's muzzy words, and I was tensing up so hard out of sympathy I'm in knots myself!

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you for letting me know. I hope you got a nice backrub afterwards or you read some shmoopy h/c heavy on the comfort to even that out :).

Also, sorry for the late reply, I was absent for a few months and am just now catching up on things again. I really appreciate that you took the time to leave such a lovely comment.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[themegalosaurus.livejournal.com]

this was so vivid and intense!

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

That's what I was going for :). Thank you for letting me know it worked for you!

Also, sorry for the late reply, I was absent for a few months and am just now catching up on things again.

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[madame-naan.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, how did you do this? It's so, so intense and so funny at the same time. I loved it!

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

Aww, thank you for your kind words. I am very glad you liked it. And that the humor worked for you. I wasn't quite sure it would.

Also, sorry for the late reply, I was absent for a few months and am just now catching up on things again. I appreciate that you took the time to comment!

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[strgazr04.livejournal.com]

Now I wish there was a part from Dean's POV, especially towards the end there!

RE: Filled: Can we call it Bob? (4/4)

[soserendipity.livejournal.com]

I was feeling the same way, especially to fill in the blanks and to point out how affected Sam actually is by the monster toxin. And you know what, I think I might actually do it :). Thanks for letting me know I wasn't the only one craving to hear Dean's side of things.

Also, sorry for the late reply, I was absent from LJ for a few months and am just now catching up on things again. I appreciate that you took the time to comment!