Tag: g/t writing

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August 23rd excerpt:

Sam didn’t tell Logan any of his. He let himself smile secretively, then met the man’s eyes. “You should let yourself rest,” Sam said instead. “You’ll need your energy if you want to keep up yelling at Dean like this. It won’t get you anywhere, but if it makes you feel better, by all means. Yell. Eventually he might just stuff you in the duffel bag.”

Sam brushed the crumbs off his jacket, then gave it an annoyed glance, knowing he’d need to try and wash the blood out before going to bed.

Pulling out his grappling hook, Sam glanced over at Logan. “I wouldn’t want to be you in that bag, though,” Sam said dryly. “No way to get out, no way to even see what’s going on outside.”

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August 21st excerpt:

With one hand over the bruise forming on the back of his head and the other desperately trying to get a grasp on the wall of the cage, Logan finally snapped. “Will you quite shaking this damn thing around so much?! Jesus Christ you’re worse than the fucking city bus.”

Dean glanced down at the cage, and couldn’t help a smirk. “Hear that, Sammy? He thinks I’m worse than the bus.”

Sam shifted on his shoulder, rubbing his eyes. After all the excitement, neither of them had got much sleep that day. “Guess he’s never tried being stuck in your jeans pocket,” he grumbled tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse ride than that, and I’ve been through a lot.”

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August 19th excerpt:

Sam grinned confidently upwards at his brother. “Don’t worry,” he chirped as he bit into a miniature sandwich he’d cobbled together. He’d even managed to get small pieces of tomato and a bit of lettuce on it to serve as his own toppings. “I was watching it the entire time. I can take him on if he tries to grab your food.”

Jacob grinned, still amused by the banter. “He’s totally right. I wouldn’t wanna fight Sam.”

Dean couldn’t stop a laugh at that. He reached down with the hand that wasn’t holding the sandwich and gently ruffled Sam’s hair, leaving the bangs haphazardly covering his eyes. “I knew I kept you around for something, shorty,” he said fondly.

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August 18th excerpt:

Dean put his foil-wrapped sandwich down next to the small picnic that was set up for Sam and Bowman. “Make sure no ants go after that for me,” he said as he let it go. “And no sneaking any bites, hear me?”

“Sure, Dean. Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam said in the fakest, most syrupy-sweet voice he could muster. He hid a grin underneath his bangs as he stared down at the wrapper his food was on, knowing exactly how his tone would be taken.

Dean scoffed at the sarcastic tone from his brother. “At this rate I might have to find someone else to ride shotgun in the car.”

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Sam would be so peeved. What bad luck.

In BA, Dean would arch an eyebrow at his little brother, make a quip to him about how clumsy he is or how his popcorn has a bit of surprise seasoning added to it, getting a bitchface in return, then he’d detatch Sam from the popcorn. He’d be more amused than anything, but wouldn’t joke around with Sam in his mouth. Since he’s been small for so long, Sam has an innate fear of being eaten, and Dean tries to avoid setting off those instincts (most of the time; there was that one time Sam got stuck in a cup of beer). Dean’s behaved himself since then.

On the other hand, Sam also hasn’t had such bad luck with food. Dean in BL isn’t so lucky, and did take a swan dive into a bowl of popcorn while watching a movie!

“Sorry, guys, I’m sorry,” Jacob answered, looking back at them. He moved his arm out from behind his head and settled his hand near them as added security. “Dean’s … in the popcorn, I gotta get him out,” he explained, a grin plastered on his face. It almost ached not to let his laughter out, but he didn’t want to send them tumbling as much as Dean had just done.

He reached up with his other hand, over to the popcorn bowl where Dean made valiant efforts to avoid falling further in. Before he could sink into the popcorn and become even more irate, Jacob’s fingers dove in after him and closed around his tiny waist. In no time at all, he fished the tiny, flailing hunter out of the popcorn.

Jacob was still grinning once Dean was free. “Didja find a good piece?”

Dean sent Jacob his most intimidating glare. Dangling from two thick fingers, with a kernel of popcorn still clutched to his chest, the effect was ruined. Dean gave a kick with his right leg, jostling a piece of popcorn that insisted on clinging to his jeans free. Despite the fact that the fingers sealed around his waist could snap him in half if Jacob misjudged his strength, Dean wasn’t afraid at all.

He was aggravated.

“At least my piece has more butter on it!” Dean snipped in annoyance, shifting the popcorn kernel to one arm so he could begrudgingly try and fix the spike in his hair. The combination of warm grease and butter flavoring was doing him no good, and his hair was matted to his head.

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August 17th excerpt:

Logan paused, waiting for Dean to notice that he’d escaped the enclosure. Hearing no bellows of surprise, the shrunken hunter crept towards the edge of Dean’s lap, peering over the side into the grass. Overhead, he heard Bowman say excitedly, “I see him, he’s coming this way!” Logan scowled, thinking that the last thing he wanted was to see that damn kid at this new scale. Using the edge of Dean’s pocket as an initial handhold, Logan slipped over the side to climb down before anyone noticed. At least Jacob might offer a distraction.

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August 16th excerpt:

“Fuck! Let me out! ” Logan bellowed, seething with the knowledge that a lot of his volume was lost to the prison encased around him. He writhed as much as he could in the extremely tight space, which didn’t say much. His arms were pinned at awkward angles to his chest and his legs could hardly move at all. Dean’s ring dug into his side mercilessly every time he shifted.

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August 15th excerpt:

Logan pushed himself up to his hands and knees gingerly, ignoring Sam for the time being. His focus was on the hand underneath him, with leathery skin thicker than should be possible. Logan fit easily on the palm of Dean’s hand and there would be room for more of him, easily.

He was small. He was small.

And he was trapped on a giant hand.

Logan finally turned his shocked gaze to the face like a billboard. Dean’s intensity, focused on him so keenly, dropped ice into the reduced human’s stomach. He scowled, though there was a hint of desperation in the expression, and tried to push himself to a stand. It didn’t work, and he instead pitched to the side. He could feel Dean’s pulse thumping along under the callused skin.

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August 14th excerpt:

Dean’s grin grew as a thought came to him. “Need a hand with that, Sammy?”

Sam almost seemed to consider as he kept the arm twisted back. Logan’s demands to be set free were completely ignored by the deceptively small and vulnerable-seeming hunter, who, on the same scale, was more powerful. “If you insist. I mean, he might be able to free himself. Eventually. If he doesn’t tire himself out first.”

Dean stretched out a hand through the grasses that loomed overhead, flattening it against the ground. There was a dangerous glint in his eye and two fingers twitched impatiently, beckoning Sam forward. “Well? What are you waiting for?”