By which he means he's pleased as punch that people thought him awesome enough to nominate a bunch of times over at arpea_awards. He would do an in-character post, but that would only end in him gloating, not actually thanking anyone for anything. So, you get me thanking everyone for thinking of me and my big-headed muse and nominating me or his counterpart (hasperkynipples) in the following categories:

- Best Username (as hasperkynipples)
- Most Handsome Male (as hasperkynipples)
- Most Likely to Seduce Everyone (as hasperkynipples)
- Choice Flirt (as hasperkynipples)
- Choice Hero (as hasperkynipples)
- Choice Character: Canon Male
- Best Friends with soldier_ofgod
- Best Siblings with likely_evil
- Best Working Relationship with soldier_ofgod

I also want to thank whoever thought of me for "Best Angst Writer" and "Overall Writer of the Year." It's really nice to know that you guys enjoy what I'm doing with Dean and that you think I'm doing it well.

Congrats to all the other nominees!

[Set in Warm Gun. Sam is likely_evil and used with permission from his mun who made a request for Sam and Dean future!fic with the prompt “bikini.” Alec is smart_alec494 and also used with permission and lots of additional love. I have no idea how this happened.]

“Boredom is a great motivator.”

Dean loved bikini season.

It was one of the few reasons why he actually entertained setting foot in Palm Beach. The area really didn’t go with his wardrobe, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that there were half-naked women walking around, he probably would have passed up the unexplained events and headed for something a little more comfortable. Dean had always been a leg guy. He couldn’t help it.

It was one of those fantastic sets of legs that he had managed to get a number out of and a promise to drop by before he skipped out of town that had his attention when he collapsed into bed the night before, and he had intended to get at least a few good hours before he had to get back to the job, but it wasn’t long before Sam was shaking him awake, sounding almost a little alarmed.

“Dean! Dean, wake up!”

Dean groaned slightly, pulling the pillow over his head before rolling away from his brother. “What is it, Sammy?”

“A kitten!”

( *** )

1157 words

[Set in the Detective AU. Sam is likely_evil and used with permission from his mun who made a request for Dean and Sam future!fic with the prompt “quarters.” Jo is ironknifehunter and her I don’t have permission for, but I steal with love. ♥ ]

The insomnia started in prison. Long nights with a bunkmate who liked to beat the shit out of him followed by long nights all by himself in solitary just him staring at the walls and trying not to lose his mind. It was only four years, but those four years were enough to screw with his sleep process just enough. It was one of the main reasons why he drank—at least, one of the ones that he’d admit to—and added in his own mix of sleeping aids on top of it. Looking back on it now, he was lucky he didn’t kill himself with that stuff, but that was a whole other story.

Him getting sober wasn’t the problem. In fact, him getting sober was probably the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he was sticking with it. The problem with him being sober was that he hadn’t slept in three days and he was starting to doubt he ever would. It was two-thirty in the morning, there was nothing on TV, and he still wasn’t any closer to sleeping than he already was. He needed to do something. He just didn’t know what it was.

He switched off the TV for a moment, sitting in the silence of his apartment until he felt fingers itching for the cool feel of a glass under his palm and he reached for his phone instead. He knew that no one but his sorry ass was gonna be up at this time of night, but he was going to bother them anyway. Better than hating himself later for going out and finding a bottle of Jack to down. It wasn’t long before he stumbled across his brother’s number and was placing the phone to his ear. It rang three times before his brother’s sleep-heavy voice on the other end of the line.

( *** )

1165 words

I was looking around for details on Dean's verses for crack purposes, and realized that I haven't done an updated verses post for him in over a year. That, in and of itself is a problem. So! Since I'm unoccupied at the moment, I figured I'd work on getting that done. It's also a fantastic way to procrastinate, don't you think?

( Under a cut )

And I think that's everything. For now.

[Set after THIS. Tessa is bound_byfate, Sam is likely_evil, everyone else is an NPC. Goddamnit, Dean. Beginning dialogue is from above ficlet.]

“I know that you aren’t my daddy and mommy... but I want you to be. Daddies and Mommies take care of their kids, and I’m your kid.”

“Yer not takin’ dat away from yer bra’ther, my love. Johnny always be rememberin’ him. But you really are his daddy now. No harm in ‘im callin’ you dat.”

“If you really want to.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

The scene blurred in front of him and he tried his best to swallow it back, but he couldn’t. He knew that he should be happy for his brother. He knew that he should have seen this coming. But it didn’t stop the sucker punch to the gut that came with hearing your son refer to someone else as their father. What made it worse was that he understood it. Understood it more than he would have liked. Dean was dead. Gone. He wasn’t in Johnny’s life and he never had been, not beyond those first few months that he was sure the boy couldn’t even remember. Dean wasn’t anything more than a story Sam told Johnny to try and get him to sleep on nights when he couldn’t.

Sam was Johnny’s father. It was only fair that he should get the title to go with it.

( *** )

899 words

[Set in the Detective AU. Cas is soldier_ofgod and used with permission from her mun who made a request for future!fic with Dean and Cas and the prompt “wedding.” I couldn’t not do this. Tell Cas I’m sorry. Sam is likely_evil, and isn’t used with permission so much as general assumption? And he really shouldn’t be complaining of my use of him in this.]

He was pretty sure that Cas was going to kill him.

Actually, he was pretty sure everyone was going to kill him. Putting an alcoholic in the middle of an alcohol-loaded bachelor party was a bad idea—even he could see it—and give Dean’s track record, it wasn’t really a way to keep him on the wagon, but he could handle it. This was worth the risk. And, as the best man, he would be remiss if he didn’t fulfill his duties to the best of his ability. And Dean could throw a damn good bachelor party.

Frankly, he felt that he owed Cas this. The guy had been there with him through a lot. Hell, if it wasn’t for Lucas Devine he would be dead right now, and he knew it. So he was giving the man his due. And he felt that his due happened to involve renting out Cy Wellington’s Gentleman’s Club for the night, flooding the place with coworkers, friends, and pretty girls, and just letting everyone there have a damn good time.

He just couldn’t let Cas know what he was doing. The whole aforementioned killing thing. No matter how painful his impending death may be, though, the look on Cas’s face when they removed the blindfold was absolutely worth it. And with the incredibly fantastic rack in his face, he knew he’d be going down with a smile.

( *** )

732 words

[Set in wayward_au. Jo is ironknifehunter and used with permission from her mun who made a request for a Micheal!Dean/Jo kiss. Somewhat in relation to THIS.]

“Every man at some point in his life is going to lose a battle. He's going to fight and he's going to lose. But what makes him a man, is that in the midst of that battle, he does not lose himself.”

Angels don’t sleep.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t, or that they wouldn’t, for that matter, they just—didn’t. It wasn’t a necessity, and it wasn’t something they were used to. Humans, however needed their sleep. It was a necessity, and Michael had been used to sleeping for almost fifty years. That was why after the first few nights of staying with Jo, he found himself starting to join her. It was—relaxing, almost. The slow rhythm of her breathing against his chest and the warmth of her body against his was familiar. It was more of the reason why he was coming to her in the first place, the idea of familiarity and comfort that didn’t come from his family. That couldn’t come from his family. And it was that sense of safety that allowed him to relax just enough to close his eyes and drift off into something that had to be sleep.

The first time it happened, he was only out for about an hour before he jerked himself awake again. It startled him a bit, that he had lost his sense of awareness for that long, but then a part of him reminded himself that it was natural, at least for the human part of him. He wouldn’t say it was necessary, but it wasn’t wrong. Over the next few nights, he let himself drift off longer, a few hours at most, and he was always awake before she did. He wasn’t sure if it was a conscious choice, or just the way things happened to work out, but it was nice, waking up and still finding her asleep next to him.

( *** )

749 words

[Set in the Detective AU. Set after THIS.]

“I want the sky to fracture under the impossible weight of an apology because I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I want so much.”

Dean didn’t want to wake up.

Unconsciousness was safer. When he was unconscious, he didn’t say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing. He didn’t have to make choices. If he didn’t wake up, he wouldn’t have to go back to the world that was better off without him, that should have been without him long ago.

All Dean ever did was cause problems. The woman he loved enough to commit to completely couldn’t stand living with him. He’d gotten his father killed. His brother turned to drugs when Dean couldn’t take care of him, and wound up being tortured by one of the most sadistic bastards he’d ever met. He couldn’t even come up with an adequate enough defense to keep himself from going to jail for four years. He was useless, a waste of space and everyone would be better off if he never woke up, period.

He never thought he would make it out of Alastair’s basement anyway. That was his way of evening the scales. He’d cost his father his life, so in a way, he thought that maybe, maybe if he did this for Sam, if he traded his life for someone else’s, maybe things will even out. Cas would look after Sam and do a better job of it than he did. The balance would be restored and things would go back to being okay again. The world didn’t need Dean Winchester to keep on turning, and the people in his life would probably be able to keep moving without him. In fact, they’d probably be able to do better without him holding them back.

But his body didn’t seem to agree with him. Cas came for him too soon, before Alastair could finish the job he started and Dean could shuffle off the mortal coil. Then came the paramedics and the doctors and everyone else straining to keep Dean alive when all he really wanted to do was just slip away and be done with it. But the most they’d let him do was just sleep, remain in the blissful darkness where nothing was demanded from him or needed of him. There wasn’t anything to take from him, because he didn’t have anything to give. And right then, that was what he needed more than anything else. But he still didn’t want to wake up.

His body wouldn’t let him have that though. The sheets scratched against his back as his mind slowly bubbled to the surface, taking in the sounds of the monitors and people milling around him, the feeling of the tubes and needles poking into his body. If he opened his eyes, he could probably see the luminescent lights above him, but he didn’t want to open them quite yet. He still wasn’t sure if he had anything to take yet. So until then, it was better if everyone just thought he was asleep.

485 words

[Part of the Detective AU. Cas = soldier_ofgod, Sam = likely_evil, anyone else is an NPC. Related to THIS and THIS.]

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“Why don’t we have a mom?”

Sam was about six when he first started asking that question. John was working late and they were spending the night at Mrs. Harvelle’s. She started watching them after school when John and Bill started working as partners, considering she had a kid of her own who went to the same elementary school. Jo was five and a giant pain in the ass (he didn’t know why he wasn’t supposed to use that word, Dad did all the time) butt as far as Dean was concerned, but Ellen was nice enough, and she had no problem holding back on dessert. That, alone, was enough to earn her major brownie points as far as his ten year-old self was concerned, so he wasn’t about to complain.

At first, Dean didn’t know how to answer that question. He wasn’t about to tell his kid brother that some whackjob got her, so he deflected. He didn’t know that was the term at the time but that’s what his shrink told him later. “Just get some sleep, Sam.”

“That’s not an answer.”

( *** )

961 words

He had pissed her off, yes, but she still needed to see him. She hadn't in a couple months and she had been really worried. Now, she was worried even more. And she wasn't letting his stubbornness keep her away. It didn't take her long at CONTROL to track him down with his cell phone. As soon as she figured out where he was, she arranged a private flight out there.

It took her until the next night, but she was soon pulling into the motel parking lot quietly and getting out to find his room. She could have probably shown up sooner, but she figured appearing at nighttime would probably be best all around. When she found the correct door, she took a breath and let it out. Frankly she didn't know if he'd let her in or make her leave, and she wasn't so sure she could handle the latter. She knocked.

Sam was out. Neither of them had spent much time with each other since Dean had said how he was really feeling, so it was always one of them going out and one of them staying in and for the moment, Sam was gone. When he heard the knock on the door, he just figured that Sam had forgot his key, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew enough to check through the peephole first and when he saw who it was, he froze.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her. He desperately, desperately wanted to see her. But he couldn't live with her getting hurt either, which is why he told her to stay away. However, now that she was actually here --

He pulled open the door, staring at her for a long minute before actually speaking. "Beth, I told you -- "

( *** )