July 21st excerpt:

By the time the brief conversation to get checked in was over, Jacob’s ears were ringing. He had to keep from fidgeting in the cloth enclosure while he waited for Dean to get to the room, having been stuck in there for hours now. At the sound of a door closing, he moved to stand in the pocket once more. “Finally,” he groused. “Done with pockets for now.”

“It can’t be all that bad,” Dean protested, but he moved to scoop Jacob out of the pocket with two fingers regardless.

So, if Dean sews pockets on to his clothing all the time (after all, clothing never conveniently has enough pockets to stash his arsenal), would he start attempting to modify his pockets to make them more comfortable for Sam?

If he thought of it, he might!

Dean overlooks some details like this, and Sam probably wouldn’t make it a point to bring it up past complaints when Dean fills his inside pockets and he ends up spending time with extra salt rounds or some emergency floss (you never know when you might need to stitch yourself up with it, Sammy!). They’re used to roughing it on both sides. 

Sam usually prefers a shoulder perch, so that’s at least clear of debris.

June 12th excerpt

Jacob gripped the edge of the pocket with a frown, keeping his feet under him no matter how wobbly it became. His grip was sure. “I was doing fine,” he insisted. Then, he realized, “I don’t even know your actual name and you’re already giving me dumb nicknames? Seriously?”

“Hey! That nickname was not dumb!”

January 13th excerpt:

“I understand, Sam,” Stan insisted as he automatically hopped onto the offered hand. He had no desire to get grabbed by anyone else and end up starting this whole process over with someone completely new. Someone who might not be as considerate as Sam and Dean had been.

As he climbed up to Sam’s palm, Stan let one of his hands brush past the pad of the thumb as he passed it by. The insanity of the situation hit Stan all at once, him reassuring the giant as he was about to be pocketed by said giant. He shook his head, pondering this strange existence he led now.

November 8th excerpt:

“Uh. Pocket okay?” Jacob asked, glancing at Sam in the mirror.

“That works.”

Instead of waiting for Jacob’s assistance, Sam scaled down from Jacob’s shoulder and ducked in the pocket himself, much like he did with Dean when the coast was clear. From here, Sam stood to check the height of the pocket, finding himself just tall enough to see out while standing.

Definitely deeper than Dean’s. Those were child’s play for Sam, unless he got buttoned in.

Ding ding ding, you got it!


#dow is Dean of Wellwood, and now all we’ve got is #don and #bofa before all (current) stories for that particular AU have names!

I’ll add it to the FAQ in a bit. For now, you’ve earned a sneak peek!

As though a sudden breeze picked up, the knights took to the air in a flurry of leafy wings. They were flashes of leafy green that fell into formation with Scar at their head, leading a spiral of knights upwards.

Mere seconds later, the spiral broke apart. What looked like a loss of formation quickly shifted into knights scattering into groups of four or five and darting up towards different trees surrounding the village. Some were lost among the leaves and still others were easily marked circling around with their eyes focused on their adversary: 


The first knight darted towards Dean from the side, and soon after another from a different group swept into the village. Like the ticking of a clock, knights dashed into closer quarters with the human, following the tactics Scar had signaled to them. Determination filled every one of them as they closed in to swarm around the giant.

Dean brought his arms close to guard against any attacks. The sprites moved different from any opponent he’d ever faced, so before lashing out with his own strike, Dean’s intent green eyes watched how they flowed through the air. The rest of the surroundings dropped away from the fighters and ceased to exist.

After Dean had marked the position of the different groups in his mind to keep track during the flurry, he focused on one that was closer to his right side. The second they were within reach, his arm swept forward with the intent to snatch them out of the air.

The knight, one of the younger members, let out a quiet noise of alarm. He attempted to veer off course, but the adrenaline in his body and the sudden jelly-like feeling in his wings prevented him. His sword dropped to the ground below as fingers the size of his body coiled around and trapped him in a fist. His wings were engulfed along with him, and just like that his fight was over; there was no escape from Dean’s grasp.

“Do not falter,” Scar barked in warning as the other knights watched one of their number disappear into one of Dean’s pockets. If their hearts hadn’t already been pounding, they would have begun.

Dean wasn’t only big. He was fast.

June 6th excerpt:

“Gonna just walk right in?” Jacob asked, finding something to ask to take his mind off his sudden nerves in the shadow of an enormous hunter. “That actually works?”

Dean bobbed his head as he slipped his fake ID back into the inner pockets of his jacket. Pockets that were large enough, gaping enough, for Jacob to disappear into the same way. And If Dean didn’t want him found, he never would be.

“All it takes is confidence and the right outfit,” Dean told Jacob as he ambled over to the bed and pulled his handgun out from the back of his pants.

April 7th excerpt:

With Sam and Jacob stowed away in one pocket, and Bowman kicking pointedly at him in the other, Dean climbed out of the Impala. No one would be able to tell from his casual swagger that not only did he have three miniature passengers hidden on his person, he also carried a small arsenal.