G/T Prompts Day 8

borrowedtimeandspace:

8. Jar – Stan has a wake-up call.

AU: ???


Stan couldn’t breathe.

He thought seeing the world from only a few inches tall had been amazing, and after he climbed down his bedspread to the floor, he was all set on exploring the alien landscape his bedroom had become.

Then the ground, the very air, everything began to shake. Steady vibrations rattled the floor under Stan’s feet and froze him in place. Sharp impacts on the massive shut door made him flinch, and he clapped his hands over his ears as a tremendous voice rumbled through it.

Panic rose within the teen as it sank in. Someone was looking for him, and they were enormous.

His imagination took it from there, disregarding the logic that whoever it was out there was one of Stan’s brothers, his family. Instead, Stan was paralyzed by images of giants as they’d always been portrayed in films and stories, vicious creatures who meant harm to those smaller than them.

These overwhelming fears came to a head when he saw the door open ever so slightly, and Stan jumped behind the nearest thing to hide, hardly noticing that it happened to be a discarded shoe that was now taller than he was.

Stan’s heart pounded too loudly in his ears to process what the giant was saying, but he certainly felt the wave of displaced air when the door swung open, the earth-shattering footsteps that followed. Humongous feet stomped closer and swung right past Stan’s hiding spot in only a handful of steps.

A hand shot up to cover Stan’s mouth, quieting his heavy breathing and stifling the dread-filled cries he could feel creeping up his throat. The giant’s feet were right there and Stan was completely exposed, it could notice him at any moment! He needed to find a new hiding spot, and he glanced around the corner of the shoe to find one.

If he could just made it under the dresser in the distance…

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G/T Prompts Day 6

borrowedtimeandspace:

6. Catch – A Wild Baker Appears

Sort of doing these out of order, but I’m determined to do them all

AU: ???


“Stan?”

Simon Baker rapped gently on his youngest brother’s bedroom door. “Suppertime! Get it while it’s hot!”

These days, Simon thought to give Stan whatever space he needed. School had always been a rough time for the kid, even more so now that he was a teenager. Even so, Simon tried to keep spirits light in the hopes of cheering Stan up.

Simon’s brow pinched when there came no answer. Usually, even on the worst days, he’d get a grumble in response at least. Stan would never turn down a meal.

“C’mon Stanley, don’t want it to get cold without you,” he called through the door as he made a move to open it. He went slow, not one to burst in on anyone, and he listened for Stan to correct him.

It wasn’t that he hated being called Stanley, but he did prefer ‘Stan’.

Only when Simon still didn’t hear a peep out of the room did he open it all the way. Now he was concerned.

His frown deepened as he stepped into the room and found it empty. Stan wasn’t in bed, but his schoolbag was still there and the window was securely shut. Simon knew Stan came home earlier, so where did he–?

A light skittering on the floor by his feet interrupted Simon’s thoughts. He looked down; when he didn’t see anything, he took a wary step closer.

In the corner of Simon’s eye, he noticed something quick and tiny dashing into the open. He didn’t get a good look before it took shelter under Stan’s dresser.

Simon sighed and strode over to shut Stan’s door. If his brother brought another mouse in the house, he’d better take care of it before it got into the walls. Then he could resume figuring out where Stan went.

Grabbing one of Stan’s jars and a ventilated lid from the desk, Simon lowered himself to the floor to peer under the dresser. It was too dark to see in any detail, but a small shape hurried to the far side. Simon sat up and reached around to snatch it before it hid under the bed.

In his hurry to get his catch into the jar, Simon didn’t notice that it didn’t quite feel like a mouse in his grasp.

He made sure to tilt the jar so the little thing would slide safely to the bottom. Simon was used to this habit of Stan’s, and he knew it came from a well-meaning place. Their youngest brother was never one to walk away when anyone or anything needed help. Even a lost, injured mouse.

So it was a complete shock to Simon when he lifted the jar to find something that definitely wasn’t a mouse.

“Oh, God.”


Asks and Prompts are open! | Submissions too! | Main Story

July 7th excerpt:

A smirk tugged at the corner of Stan’s mouth as Dean once again exuded that cocky air he’d gotten to know. Before he could even give it a second thought, the hand Dean had been poking swept out, catching those little bowlegs behind the knees and curling his fingers into a low awning over Dean’s head as he fell into Stan’s grasp.

“Oh, my! What have we here?” exclaimed Stan in mock surprise as he lifted his hand to his eyes to peer in at Dean. Behind his smug grin, a warm bubble of pride rose in his chest, glad to be able to do that with none of the apprehension he had before. Even if it was just to rise to Dean’s bait and tease him a bit. “You lost, mousie?”

They would be cautious and capture him to find out who/what he is, and if he has anything to do with the case they’re on. He’ll probably spend some time under a vase (at Dean’s insistence), while also getting to eat the pizza Sam offers him.

If Dean leaves the room, Sam will take that moment to give Jacob some air, letting him out of the vase. He’s four inches tall, no wings, and they have his climbing supplies, what’s the worst that could happen?


Being small around one giant Winchester can be nervewracking enough, but both of them? They’re such strong personalities compared to Jacob’s very relaxed nature. He’d be so cautious with everything, and also probably surprised they could catch him so fast. Those guys are speedy!

With Dean out of the room, his intensity is gone, but there’s still a curious Sam to deal with. I can see Jacob trying to sidle away when he thinks Sam’s not paying attention only to be dragged back, maybe poked for his trouble.

February 10th excerpt:

He tried to writhe free, panic creeping through his veins. That glass container loomed in his vision like a gaping mouth, and his resolve almost faltered. He couldn’t even attempt to bite Dean again to get away. There was nothing to do but watch the thing get closer to him, an inevitable shift in Dean’s grip as he prepared to trap Bowman with ease.

Those knives glinted and the glass glittered and Bowman’s adrenaline had nowhere to go.

“S-stop it! I told you I didn’t–” he insisted, before the grip loosened around him and the words seized in his chest.

February 6th excerpt:

The pain that sliced through Dean’s hand was unexpected. “Sonova–!”

Instead of letting the sprite go like he might have done before, Dean cut off his cuss and brought up his free hand, releasing the sprite into the new hand and this time expertly winding his fingers around the tiny body to keep him from attacking again. Dean’s thumb came up beneath the little chin, preventing any bites.

“Chill, nibbler,” he groused. “No one’s hurting you.”

December 6th excerpt:

Don’t let anyone ever own you, came in Dean’s voice. Sam might not be able to keep himself from being taken away, but he could fight back with everything he had.

“I should have known,” Sam said, his voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re better than me because you’re taller.” He struggled to draw in a breath. Something in him refused to quit, no matter how foolish it was to backtalk a human. The memory of cages was trying to wash rational thought away, and if that happened Sam would be curled into a ball, no more useful than a mouse pup. Just like the last time he was trapped, by Sherlock.

But this time there was no John to let him out. No Dean to help him fight back. Just Sam, more alone than he’d been in years.

A Fateful Supply Run

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(Thanks so much! ~~

AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: Before Taken


“Kara, do you trust me?”

Kara stared up into her dad’s big grey eyes, a match for her own. Where hers were bright and hopeful, his were worn and older, creases in his skin formed from the hard times they’d survived in the motel. Hard times that had taken away her mother, his loving wife.

Nodding, she didn’t say a word as he turned and darted away. Of course she trusted him. She would always trust him. Her daddy had taken care of her ever since she could remember. Thin and underfed, Christian put his daughter before himself in all things. If there wasn’t enough food to feed them both, he would fast to let her eat.

Still, she was underfed and needed more food to survive. The scarcity of food in this motel showed in the ribs he could see clear through her skin. Too thin. If he couldn’t find more for her to eat, she’d waste away to nothing.

He’d only just reached the table when the door of the motel room swung open with an ominous creak. Christian froze, and chose to dive behind the leg of a chair before the human spotted him.

It wasn’t check-in time yet, why were they here?

He had his answer seconds later, when a hand descended around him. He struggled. “No!”

One hand reached out, grasping at the air where he knew Kara was waiting for him as the fingers shut tight, trapping him.

“Looks like we’ve got another to show Mina.”

“Hopefully this time she wants to bargain. We can’t wait much longer before the cash runs out.”

“Whatever, dear. She’ll come, the moment we call her. She always does.”

Christian didn’t have time to puzzle these strange words before under him, a gaping black purse opened up and he found himself tumbling inside. He landed with a thud on his side, groaning as he kicked a strange black cylinder, almost as long as he was, away.

Darkness fell over him, but his eyes could make out the shadowed interior without a problem. Huge items were scattered about, human possessions that he didn’t care to understand.

All he cared about was two very worried grey eyes he could see in his mind’s eye, looking up at him with all the trust in the world.

And now he was being taken away from her.