Tag: g/t

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December 18th excerpt:

Geoff leaned in like an eager dog, his hand hovering over Dakota’s in anticipation. He’d never been entrusted with something so delicate, and he felt quite important at the moment. After the professor used a long pair of tweezers to pull the back of Sam’s shirt up to his shoulder blades, Geoff made short work of putting down one finger to keep it in place.

“Like this?” he asked, arranging his middle finger on Sam’s shoulders, his index at the base of his spine, and the pad of his thumb across the back of the little legs.

Dakota nodded in approval. “Very good,” he said distractedly. “Just keep your fingers out of the way.”

Sam instinctively tried to writhe free, the movement of tiny muscles visible on his back at the effort.

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December 17th excerpt:

John couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of detail he was able to see through the small lens, if slightly distorted. The individual spikes of Dean’s hair which swayed as though in time with a breeze; it didn’t take John long to realize that the breeze was his breath, and he made a conscious effort to lessen the gust. Freckles across Dean’s cheeks and stubble on his chin, the tiniest things that John wouldn’t be able to make out ordinarily. Bloodstains on his black shirt, and… John squinted and looked closer, a little thrown by the sight of a necklace resting against Dean’s chest. Even with the magnifier, all he could really make out was an outline of a leather cord and a metallic gleam from a pendant.

“What is that? ” Sherlock piped up, leaning in close again. 

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If Dean was the small one, he’d still be in charge. Sam grew up looking up to his older brother, and having him tiny wouldn’t change that a bit. It would be a lot like in Brothers Unexpected, where Sam gets adopted by Jacob’s family. Sam is much smaller than Jacob, but as the oldest, is also trusted to watch out for the kid and Jacob learns fast to listen to him (sweet tol teddy).

Not sure if we’ll ever get to writing a Brothers Together switchup, but it is a lot of fun to think about the Weechesters no matter who’s what size.

Lost Things Found

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image

Bobby – Cradle

AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: Several months after A Minty Haven

Bobby stared down at the floorboard he’d torn up seconds before, startled by what he was looking at.

Nestled between two supports, there was a small room, swept clear of any remaining sawdust from the construction of the house, and with a fine layer of dust spread over a few pieces of furniture.

Knowing about people the size of his finger living nearby and seeing proof of their existence were two completely different things.

He worried his lip. The floorboard needed replacing, and it didn’t look like anyone had lived there in a long time. He recalled the place Rumsfeld had chased him from months before, a fleeting glimpse of bright red hair running from him clear in his memory. They must have once lived in his house, before relocating. He wondered why they might have left, and decided it didn’t matter.

Carefully gathering up a cradle and two makeshift chairs, Bobby pushed himself to his feet. He could find a place to leave them, and hope their former owners found them. They deserved to have all of their possessions, no matter what had driven them from the house.

Be sure to participate in the 100 (GT) Themes Challenge!

Not Where He Left It

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AU: Brothers Consulted

Timeline: After moving into 221B Baker Street and before the first story

Sam ran along the tabletop, his pulse thudding in his ears as he went.

Another day, another supply run.

Of course, this time was a little different. With Dean’s odd ability, they’d been able to track down some pencil lead for Sam to use to write with, always a hard-to-find commodity even here, in a flat with belongings strewn haphazardly about and a vast treasure trove of supplies for people Sam and Dean’s size.

It was a bit of a risk, with the humans still in the building, but Sam didn’t want to risk the snapped lead vanishing when one of them cleaned up. He’d been able to find enough scraps of paper to form a haphazard journal, but needed something to write with. His old bit of lead was nearly ground to dust.

Two shards of the tip of a pencil were nestled in his leather satchel, bouncing against his side as he ran. Sam made it to the edge of the table, peering down at the floor to see where Dean was, waiting for him to get down. They couldn’t afford them both out in such an exposed place, so Dean, the weaker climber, stayed on the ground.

Instead of using his hook and thread to climb with, Sam took advantage of the chair that was leaning against the edge of the table. A black jacket was draped overtop the chair, and offered Sam more than enough handholds to get himself to the floor. He cautiously began to pick his way down the fabric, occasionally glancing at his surroundings.

Just then, the stairs between the flat and the one upstairs creaked as John descended from his room, tugging on a jumper as he went. He needed to go to the bank, run to town for a few things, and was considering a stop at the pub later that night for a well-needed drink.

And with Sherlock shut in the bathroom preoccupied with his bioluminescent bacteria cultures, without a case on, John had a rare opportunity to slip away.

John was straightening his short, sandy hair, mussed by his jumper, as he entered the main area of the flat.

Sam stiffened, and Dean didn’t need his signal to know it was time to dive for cover. The older Winchester vanished behind one of the sturdy table legs as the floor shook under his boots, unable to do anything to help Sam out without taking an even greater risk of John spotting them.

With his knack tingling a sharp warning, Sam looked up at the table. It was too far up for him to risk climbing back up and searching for a hiding spot. The floor was too far down to reach in time if John decided to come into the kitchen.

Which left him one option.

Sam let go of the fabric he was clinging too, plummeting straight down into the dark folds of the pocket which yawned open beneath his feet.

John paused at the door when he noticed his coat wasn’t on its usual hook. It wasn’t on his claimed armchair in the living room either, and that’s when he remembered he’d left it in the kitchen. With a sigh, he rounded the corner and approached the table, never spotting the small shadow that ducked behind a table leg, only leaning out slightly to keep an eye on him.

He bent to retrieve his gloves from the pocket first, without even the slightest suspicion that there was someone inside, dodging fingers longer than he was tall.

Which, from the second John’s hand entered the pocket, Sam was.

His first warning was the cold shock that ran down his back from his knack. Sam’s eyes widened in the darkness as he saw a shadow fall over the light that leaked in from the kitchen. Hide. He had to hide better.

In the pocket with him was two black gloves, providing the cushioning for his landing. Without them in the way, Sam would have tumbled all the way to the bottom of the pocket. With John so close, that’s what Sam needed. More distance.

Squirming around the gloves, Sam put them between him and the opening of the pocket. Long fingers reached in, groping around for the gloves that were stuffed inside for safekeeping. Sam spotted them, and his breathing sped up.

Hands!

Memories of his first week cursed came flooding back, and his desperation to escape John’s grasp only grew. Sam twisted around, kicking the gloves further up in the pocket interior while he slid all the way to the bottom. His first experience with hands like that, his shoulder was dislocated. The last thing he wanted to do was relive that, and it was all made worse by the knowledge that John was a doctor, more than qualified to dissect either brother if he got them into his hands. All the experiments around the flat always drove that truth home to them when they were out.

Finding the gloves right away, John’s fingers dove straight down to achieve a secure grip on them. A knuckle brushed against Sam’s jacket, the contact going unnoticed by the human as something else caught his eye.

“Dammit, Sherlock…” muttered the doctor, straightening and placing the gloves on the table.

“I said, keep your cultures off my things!” John strode toward Sherlock’s work table, delicately plucking petri dishes from his laptop, which his flatmate had a habit of commandeering. With a huff, John tucked the computer under his arm and rushed it upstairs to scrub it and lock it in his bedroom before he found anything sprouting on his keyboard.

Sam couldn’t believe his eyes. He remained flattened at the bottom of the pocket, listening to the distant footsteps as they thudded up the stairs of the flat, waiting to be sure that John was actually leaving, even after touching Sam’s jacket, the closest he’d come to a human in years. He’d thought it was all over right then, the hand would shift position, making him tumble into the human’s grasp and sealed into a fist by fingers stronger than his entire body.

Instead, John had pulled away and stalked across the flat yelling at Sherlock, and Sam was wasting his opportunity to escape thinking about it.

Quickly pulling himself to his feet, Sam scaled out of the pocket in record time. Dean was down by the table leg, staying close to cover in case the human came back. He didn’t have Sam’s uncanny knack of knowing when someone was about to come into the room and spot them, leaving him more vulnerable than Sam.

Not that it was doing Sam any good today.

Sam used the thick threads of the jacket to climb down, dropping the last few inches. His arms continued trembling from the close call, shaken. Dean’s arm was on his back to keep him steady the moment he got down, but seconds later they were running across the floor.

It was time to get out of sight for the rest of the day. Their luck had been pushed the the limit enough that week.

Morning Tea

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image

Sam || Stuck

AU: Brothers Consulted

Timeline: Before the first story, after the brothers move into 221B Baker Street

It was just another supply run.

There was no reason for either brother to think this morning would be any different from any other.

It was becoming their regular routine; wake up early, grab some food from the cabinets, keep an eye on Sherlock and John while they were up and about. Midafternoon to evening was a good time to catch some sleep with the humans at their most active, and during the night the brothers would pick through the main room of the flat, reading up on the materials Sherlock scattered about his latest cases and grabbing extra supplies for the supply room they were building across the fireplace from their home.

It had only been a week since officially moving in, but so far the schedule was holding out. There were a few hiccups along the way while learning and they had to have chosen the most erratic humans around, but the brothers remained hidden against all odds.

“Anythin?’ “ Dean hissed at Sam as he hesitantly pushed at the entrance into the cupboard.

Sam paused, his eyes unfocused as he concentrated on the strange knack he had. Without that ability, moving into this particular flat would be ill-advised. Between the two of them and their unusual abilities, it became worth the risk.

“Nothing,” Sam confirmed, and Dean climbed into the cupboard to begin their raid.

Throughout the last week, Dean had begun the lengthy process of creating entrances where they were most needed. It was a skill he’d picked up like a natural, mechanically inclined the way he was. Mapping out the walls was accomplished the first few days, and Sam had created an intricate diagram using some scrap paper and the broken tip of a pencil Dean had tracked down for them to use. On that diagram he had marked off the most desired entrances into the main area where the humans lived, and was slowly checking them off as they were completed.

The entrance into the cupboards for food being one of the most important ones to make.

Now, they could slip right in under the humans’ noses and get what they needed to survive. It wasn’t much compared to what someone normal sized might eat, but they’d learned harsh lessons early in life that they weren’t seen as people. No handouts would ever come their way.

Sam brightened up at the sight of a new box of cereal, the top already opened. “It’s fresh!” he chirped brightly, letting his hand fall to his hook in preparation.

Dean nodded. “I’ll keep watch,” he said, stationing himself between the teabags and the cereal so he could see the front of the cabinet in case it was opened.

Sam tossed his hook into the air. His aim was not as good as his older brother’s, but the three prongs made it easier to get a catch, and the sturdy weight of the hook wasn’t a deterrent with his natural strength. It caught on a flap, and Sam tugged it questioningly. With it holding fast, he started to climb up the side of the box with his boots braced against the side and his grip tight on the black thread, the weight of the cereal inside preventing it from tipping over on him.

Reaching the top quickly, Sam balanced uncertainly on the uneven ground. It took some doing, but he was able to work one hand under the top flap and tug it open, revealing the food inside. With his satchel empty, there was plenty of room to stash the food, and no way for John or Sherlock to know some was missing unless they weighed the cereal by gram as they ate.

The humans in the flat were odd, but not quite that odd.

Sam balanced with one boot on either side of the box and started to scoop up the cereal one piece at a time, filling them into his bag as he went, his position precarious.

John was especially groggy as he entered the kitchen. Not only had the night out with his friend Mike Stamford gone on for longer than he’d meant it to, but the storm that followed made John’s old bullet wound act up, disrupting his sleep for the rest of the night.

The doctor rubbed absently at his left shoulder, the gloomy morning still giving him an ache there. Ordinarily he’d get something for breakfast started before getting his tea, but ever since he’d moved in with Sherlock Holmes not so long ago, John found his schedule being arbitrarily changed– mostly his sleep schedule; John was certain he still hadn’t recovered from that late night filing through a pair of dead men’s books– and his habits shifting. Right now, he was in dire need of caffeine.

There was water left in the kettle, so all he had to do was plug it in and push down the little switch to get the heat started. Rubbing his eyes in attempt to get rid of that heavy feeling in his lids, John fumbled at the cupboard door and groped blindly for a teabag.

The footsteps weren’t unexpected, but what was unexpected was the lack of reaction in Sam’s knack. Light washed over the tiny pair as the wide door swung open.

Both brothers’ froze.

Unbelievably, considering how Sam was perched on top of the cereal box, one boot braced on either side, and how Dean was frozen right out in the open, John Watson didn’t notice them.

The oblivious human wasn’t even looking in their direction as his hand stretched out, blindly groping past the box Sam was stuck on.

Dean snapped out of his shock, stumbling away from the grasping fingers that were longer than he was tall. As he backed away, his hand fell on another of the boxes shoved in there by Sherlock.

Teabags.

Saying a prayer under his breath, Dean grabbed a teabag from the box and shoved it in the direction of John’s huge hand. All he could do was hope that if John got what he was looking for, the human doctor wouldn’t glance into the cupboard and spot Sam, who had no fast way down from the box unless he fell inside with the cereal.

John’s fingers latched onto the thin material of the teabag, curling into a loose fist around it as the hand retreated. With a half-yawn, half-groan, John let the cupboard door fall closed and dropped heavily into a chair while he waited for the kettle to boil.

As the door slammed shut, Sam sucked in a breath. John hadn’t noticed. Sam was right there, perched on a box of cereal, and he hadn’t seen a thing.

How?

While the sounds of John peacefully preparing his cup of tea filtered into the cupboard, Dean tilted his head back and waved for Sam’s attention. Catching Dean’s meaning, Sam inched his way backwards until he reached where his hook was lodged, and scaled down the box.

Time to get out of the cupboard before their luck ran short.

A Compilation of SPN size!fic

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tiny-sam-is-my-jam:

There’s a good smattering of SPN size!fic out there on the interwebs, but it took me a long while to find the good stuff. All of this is SFW (aside from warnings listed) and definitely worth your while. There’s fics of all shapes and sizes (heh), so hopefully you find one that interests you. And I swear I tried so hard to find more tiny!Dean and tiny!Cas fics, but I’m afraid they are unicorns in the SFW side of fic anyway. 

Brothers Apart by nightmares06 

Summary: Sam was hit with a witch’s curse when he was 10 and Dean was 14. Unable to find him or his attacker anywhere when the dust settled, John and Dean Winchester were eventually forced to give him up for dead. Unbeknownst to them, Sam was saved from the witch and adopted into a new family, and they’ve trained him to take care of himself as best he can in the world, and protected him from the witch’s gaze all these years. And now…

Warnings: language

Word Count: 34,779 

Sky’s Notes: Brothers Apart and its related works are not so much a series as they are a lifestyle. Borrower!Sam’s story is but the gateway drug into a beautiful interconnected series of AUs. The focus is always on the brothers’ relationship, and it is usually fairly canon-compliant aside from the obvious. And it’s ongoing! There are new stories and updates all the time. It’s feelsy, and snarky, and creative, and I am in love with it. 

AO3 | Fanfiction.net | DeviantArt | Tumblr 

The Comeback Kid by nightmares 06 and ObsessConfess

Summary: On a case out in California, troubles afoot when Sam falls asleep in the Impala and Dean comes out to find his Baby – and his baby brother – a little… different.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 58,621

Sky’s Notes: This is one of those fics I keep coming back to read. The size interaction is on point, walking that thin line between careful!guilty!big!Dean and careless!teasing!big!Dean. There are some priceless moments (think Dean cuddling the tiny!Impala in his sleep. Yes. That happens.) as well as some genuinely scary parts. It twists and turns and goes everywhere you don’t expect. It’s probably my favorite fic of all time. 

AO3 | Fanfiction.net | DeviantArt

Deanzilla vs Hydros by nej47

Summary: Dean slays a monster, only to become pretty monstrous himself. But Dean’s not about to let a little — okay, very big — size issue stop him from kicking ass and taking names. 

Warnings: hurt/comfort imagery, language

Word Count: 145,714

Sky’s Notes: If you ever had a craving for big!Dean, look no further. This is everything you ever wanted, believe me. Humorous, angsty, a good dose of hurt/comfort, and an epic final battle all feature prominently. Dean is determined to silently push through the pain (both physical and emotional), and Sam is confused and concerned. Oh, and don’t forget all the snark. There’s lots of that. Set in Season 4, and as such has the obligatory inclusion of both Bobby and Castiel. 

Fanfiction.net

Measure of a Man by nej47

Summary: Sequel to Deanzilla! On top of demons, angels and even Sam, Dean must also struggle with his new giant powers. To add insult to injury, the key to controlling them is an affront to his no-chick-flick-moments male pride.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language

Word Count: 139,184 

Sky’s Notes: This is the sequel to Deanzilla vs Hydros, and is set later in Season 4. There’s even more angst in this one. Like, so much angst. The entire story just builds and builds and builds to a crescendo here, ending with a very satisfactory “Lucifer Rising” AU. (Oh, and pssst there’s some tiny!Dean too!) I won’t spoil any more of the good stuff, just read it already! 

Fanfiction.net | (there’s also a couple of oneshots on DeviantArt)

A Quantum of Solace by Celesma 

Summary: “It was very clear to Sam that he was dreaming. That, or the witch had gone and cast the one spell he really, really wished she hadn’t—namely, the one that shrank people.” When Sam is injured from a witch’s shrinking spell, he learns where he and Castiel really stand. Unrepentant Sam/Cas fluff.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language

Word Count: 72,918

Sky’s Notes: Sastiel at it’s absolute finest. There’s beautiful, poetic language, romcom worthy situations, sassiness, guilty!Sam, angelic!Cas, a smattering of Dean, all the fluff, a whole heap of angst, a very purple witch, and pumpkin spice lattes. You won’t be disappointed. 

AO3 | Fanfiction.net 

A Rare Sense of Humor by Obsess-Confess and giantgirl

Summary: In which the Trickster (Gabriel) takes it upon himself to teach Sam Winchester a lesson. So naturally, he shrinks him down to 6 inches and sends both brothers on a confusing wurst throughout New York City and beyond!

Warnings: mild violence, language 

Word Count: 49,832

Sky’s Notes: Pure crack. The boys basically go on a scavenger hunt through New York City and…Candyland? Cas of course gets pulled in somehow, Gabriel is a well-meaning jerk, and Sam isn’t the only one to take a turn as a tiny.  

DeviantArt

Short Notice by story_monger

Summary: After the witch and Dorothy incident, it should have been pretty clearly spelled out for everyone: don’t mess with artifacts in the bunker.
And for the record, Sam hadn’t messed with anything. It had been an accident.
Which, granted, didn’t make his situation any better. But it was the principle of the matter. In which Sam gets shrunk, Dean panics, Castiel handles Winchesters, and Kevin saves the day. (from Part One)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language

Word Count: 37,452 (full series)

Sky’s Notes: This series reads like an actual series of episodes. There’s cracky fun, a good dose of angst, and enough twists to keep the guesses coming. The plotline is compelling, and while Sam is the focus, each of the characters are given emotional and functional weight. Also, Kevin and Crowley feature! 

AO3

I Keep Looking At The Sky by prairie_city

Summary: The one where Sam gets shrunk, and Dean finds himself cursing at the…at, well, shit.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 7,600

Sky’s Notes: Sam loses his height. Sam loses his shoes. Sam loses his cookies. He also has a gun and he’s not afraid to use it. Dean is torn between laughter and overbearing concern. Snark, awkwardness, schmoop, and everything in between — it hits all the highlights, folks. Bonus points for a Bobby cameo. 

LiveJournal

The Incredible Shrinking Sam by mamapranayama

Summary: While getting to know each other again as brothers and partners, Sam and Dean run into a rather small problem. Set season one. 

Warnings: language

Word Count: 37,586

Sky’s Notes: This is a romp of epic (minuscule?) proportions, featuring a slowshrinking!Sam. Between Sam’s predicament, Dean’s coping, a pair of grudgingly likeable OCs, and lots and lots of snark, this casefic has pretty much everything going for it. Oh, and Bobby is involved! 

Fanfiction.net

The Dollhouse by nightmares06 

Summary: Sam and Dean are on a regular salt and burn to find a missing girl when they discover a haunted dollhouse – and Sam’s about to become one of the dolls!

Warnings: language

Word Count: 7,792

Sky’s Notes: A casefic, short and sweet and fun. Mostly Sam-centric, but Dean has some moments too. Very in-character and keeps the SPN spirit. It could be a legitimate episode. It’s not like we haven’t had some seriously cracky episodes before.

AO3

Minutus by Hellootricksterr

Summary: While searching the Men of Letters base, Dean finds a strange little statue. He shouldn’t have picked it up. Now he’s tiny, for three days! What’s a hunter to do when he can’t do anything?

Warnings: language

Word Count: 54,144

Sky’s Notes: Finally some Tiny!Dean! SO MUCH FLUFF. Also antics and general silliness, because this is Dean we’re talking about. There be pockets, pie, concerned!Sam, the obligatory brotherly bonding, movie nights, all sorts of lovely references to The BFG, and of course a good dose of Destiel. 

AO3

The Parting Gift by PeaceJoJo

Summary: “What the hell?” Sam asked as he watched his brother’s hand get bigger and felt his brother’s waist pull away. His hand slid across the fabric of the back of Dean’s navy blue jacket. When Sam went to look to his left into his brother’s face, he was shocked to see Dean’s chest instead lit up with the lights from the Impala. Was Dean standing? Sam looked down and saw his brother’s legs still folded on the ground. “Holy crap. You’re growing.” 

Warnings: mild language

Word Count: 5,217

Sky’s Notes: Dean is big, and as determined as ever to suffer silently. Sam obviously isn’t about to let him. Come prepared for the usual playfulness and a good ol’ brotherly click flick moment discussion. 

DeviantArt

Small Worlds by rionaleonheart 

Summary: Sam and Dean are hunting a Gorgon. Which would be annoying enough even if Sam hadn’t somehow shrunk to ten inches tall.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 3,863

Sky’s Notes: This is too cute. Dean is insufferable, Sam is furious, and the snark of the century ensues. 

LiveJournal

I’ve left out many, many good fics, I’m sure, so if you have a suggestion for the list, point me in the right direction and I’ll go check it out! I’ve also tried to link the authors who have tumblrs, at least that I’m aware of. If you’re an author featured on this list — HI I LOVE YOU I’M SUCH A BIG FAN OMG. If you want your tumblr to be linked (or unlinked), let me know! 

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November 29th excerpt:

Sam sat down and dug out his own foil to start crafting small spoons for them to eat with. “So, does this make you a pie-hound?” he asked with a grin.

Dean gave Sam a flat glare. “Not funny.”

“K-9 Search and Pie squad?”

“Bitch.”

“Alright, boys, behave,” John chuckled.

A Minty Haven

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image

AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: Three years before Dean discovers Sam at Trails West

Lost, alone. A crack running up one side like a crevice in the earth’s crust, slowly crumpling to dust as the roots within wormed their way through, pushing aside the clay in search of fertile ground.

Alyssa didn’t know when the flowerpots had come to be, and had no way of knowing that years back, Bobby Singer’s wife had planted seedlings in them in the hopes of cultivating her own future garden. What she know was that the shade offered by the leafy fronds of the plant that was all-but-busting out of the earthen clay pot was cool, and it was far from the bustle to be found within the burrow.

More and more these days, she found herself wishing for her own space. The tunnels were dark and peaceful, but the children could always find her, her father always had more chores for her, and the others would wait for her to join in the weaving.

Breathing deeply, she leaned against the stalk of the mint plant. One woman’s dreams of raising her own herb garden had become Alyssa’s refuge. Before returning home, she would pack her small sling bag full of the aromatic leaves, and they would wrap minnow in them as they cooked, imbuing the flavor into the meat. It was a favorite of Alyssa’s, and she reached a hand up to stroke a fuzzy leaf that dangled over her head. So much that could be done with one little plant.

A shadow fell over her hiding place, and Alyssa grinned. She pushed a leaf out of her way, peering up to see a familiar face looking down at her plant.

The large dog that had adopted her home and family as his family, known as Rumsfeld to Bobby but only as ‘the dog’ to Alyssa’s people, not only knew about her hiding place in the crumpling flower pot tucked in a back corner of the junkyard, but also would lay out there with her, watching the grass wave in the breeze. He grumbled and settled down with a whuff, resting his head on his paws.

She had no idea how much time passed like that between them, but was startled out of her calm daydreams by a loud, harsh voice.

“Rumsfeld!”

Alyssa stumbled to her feet as Rumsfeld glanced over his shoulder. He yowled, the whine dying off his his throat as he looked back down at her. His large, wet nose pushed at her shoulder but she needed no further urging. She tore off a few leaves, and then grabbed the roots crawling out of the crack of the clay pot to scramble down.

“Rumsfeld! ”

The voice was growing louder. Alyssa whimpered and her face went pale, her small legs dashing as fast as she could muster towards the safety of the field. Human. Big, huge, stomping. So much more dangerous than the animals that made the field their home along with the small community of littles.

At least against animals they could defend themselves.

A low growl came from behind her, cutting off the human’s exclamation.

“What’re you doin’ out here, boy–”

The dog barked angrily, and Alyssa heard the scratch of his nails against the blacktop. The human shouted in surprise, and she couldn’t see what happened, but it sounded like the dog was chasing him off.

Reaching the grass at last, Alyssa disappeared into the field.

One word prompts open for all three admins! Check out the list and drop us a word and a character!

Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!

Grateful for Something (BT Canon)

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Originally prompted from this post. This is another update on what Oscar’s up to in the Brothers Together AU. In this short, he’s about 18 years old.

Oscar was almost ready to doze off, but he forced himself to stay alert. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down in such a precarious spot. Even now, the shadows on the nearest wall shifted and moved with the humans in the room, humans that were only steps away from his hiding place at the most.

He stood behind the TV, feeling the constant buzz of electricity while someone on the other side of it reported the weather for the afternoon. Dust piled up there, on the surface of the dresser where no one usually bothered to look. It gave Oscar a better view of the table nearby, but it wasn’t as safe.

He usually waited down on the floor, underneath the dresser. In all of the motel rooms, under the dresser was the safest place. He was out of sight, and even the maids never had occasion to look down there.

Today, though, was special. Even the humans kept it marked on all of their calendars.

Oscar didn’t understand what it meant or why they celebrated it, but Thanksgiving came without fail every late fall, and he’d learned to capitalize on it as much as he could. With winter looming close and snow on the ground outside already, he needed to stock up on as much food as he could. Thanksgiving and the holiday close on its heels, Christmas, were the best opportunities for Oscar to gather supplies for the cold months.

They meant food and lots of it.

Food like the arrangement sitting barely a foot away from him, a salad tray crammed onto what little space the TV left on the dresser. Cheese, crackers, cucumbers, and carrots were within view just from there, and he could have sworn he saw tomatoes.

Fresh things were a rarity in the Knight’s Inn. Oscar would have to eat them quicker if he managed to snag some, but they would be worth it. He could store almost everything but the cheese to make it last.

Of course, he couldn’t make it out there just yet. There was a pair of humans across the room, watching the weather report absently. They had yet to return the lid to the food tray after sampling from it, but they hadn’t left the food unattended either. If Oscar tried for it now, he’d be in their line of sight.

A shudder ran down his spine. Oscar had only ever been caught once, and he couldn’t afford to risk letting it happen again. Next time, he might not find himself in the grasp of the one friendly human he’d ever meet.

Dean Winchester was long gone. Oscar hadn’t seen him or his younger brother Sam in ten years. Back then, they’d been torn away from him before he had a chance to even try to follow. They were unique, and he’d let them slip away by sleeping in one morning.

He was grateful for one thing. Oscar had made it to eighteen years of age, and he still had a spark of hope in his heart. Ten years hadn’t quite erased them from his memory, and when he found himself in need of cheering up, he could imagine Sam wandering into the walls to visit him in his house. Talking to him while he worked on his sewing, or coaxing him out into the open to visit Dean.

They were his only friends in the whole world. Oscar couldn’t remember what they sounded like, and their faces had become hazier in his memory every year, but they were still there. They’d always be there.

The bed creaked somewhere beyond the TV and Oscar flinched. He almost missed one human voice asking “You almost ready to go?” as one of the humans stood up.

A sleepy mumble was the only reply, and Oscar took a moment to calm his startled heart while there was a rustle of bedcovers and another creak. From the look of the shadows on the wall, one human had stood. The other had flopped over on the bed entirely, too comfortable to go.

There was a heavy sigh, a voice tinged with annoyance that sounded so much scarier from a giant human. “Fine, a few more minutes, but once I get out of the bathroom we’re going. Your aunt hasn’t seen you since last year.”

Oscar waited for a reply, but none came. The human that spoke walked across the room, his shadow stalking along the wall. When the bathroom door clicked shut, Oscar took his cue.

He edged towards the side of the TV hastily. One surreptitious glance around it showed that another human had indeed buried themselves in the covers on the bed, an ornery stand against going anywhere for Thanksgiving. Why they’d want to avoid such a feast was beyond him, but Oscar didn’t question it. Instead, he darted out into the open.

Leaving a hiding place always came with a burst of adrenaline that threatened to steal his balance away. Oscar had to fight to keep focused, and he did by fixing his eyes on the food arrayed in front of him. He’d waited for the day all year.

He skidded to a halt at the edge of the sampler tray and immediately grabbed an entire cracker from the top of the pile. He knew the routine; they never missed stuff like this. His other hand was already dragging a baby carrot closer before he set his bag down to start loading it up.

He had a spare bag that he used for days like this. It was larger than his usual cloth sling, but not as easy to carry. He had more room to stuff the cracker and carrot inside, and then stand up for a small piece of cheese to go along with it. Oscar worked fast, never taking more than one of any kind of food on the tray from what he could reach. He even managed to tug free a few small sprouts from a tuft of broccoli.

Next, he threw the flap over the top of his hoard of food and hoisted it up. His cloth shoes scrambled against the dusty dresser top as he turned and darted back to his hiding place in time for the bathroom door to swing open once more. He’d made it.

Oscar grinned and imagined showing off his haul to his friends. Sharing Thanksgiving with someone would be nice for once, but Oscar only had his memories to join him at his table once again. Despite the loneliness that stretched out behind him and on forever in front of him, he was grateful at least for that.