August 23rd excerpt:

“Nothing’s your fault, ‘cause I’m fine.”

Curling his fist closer around Jacob, Dean lifted up the kid so he could get his first good look at him since getting home. “How’m I supposed to know that though?” he griped, squinting his eyes so he could see Jacob clearly.

Easier said than done. The whiskey from the bar had blurred Dean’s vision to the point where Jacob’s tiny, delicate features hard to see. Dean nudged one of the boots that dangled from the bottom of his hand, touching the leg to see if it was hurt.

August 17th excerpt:

Dean scowled. “Why does everyone think I’ll hurt him?” he growled, yanking his arm out of the grip. “He’s in the room!”

“Where the hell do you think you’re go–“

“Out!”

Quiet As a Mouse

neonthewrite:

image

1)  This prompt came in ages ago and I’m 99% sure it was actually meant for @nightmares06, but I hoarded it anyway.

2)  It’s a really cute idea and also the thing I wrote did not end up exactly like this (since most borrowers probably don’t pray) but I think it fits pretty well.

3)  My failed sneak peek guessing game was referring to this story. Surprise. It was Cas all along.

4)  Long-ish read, about 2k words. Couldn’t find a good place to split it up. 

¯_(ツ)_/¯


“Quiet as a mouse.”

One of Oscar’s favorite phrases, the words became something of a mantra for him when he went out looking for supplies. He had long since forgotten where he learned it. So many people came and went every day, and so many of them left the TV on full volume. Any one of them could have taught him about it.

As far as Oscar was concerned, “quiet as a mouse” was the ultimate goal. He’d learned a lot from his furry neighbors within the walls. The motel offered a haven, but only so long as no humans knew they were there.

Oscar had known the comings and goings of the mice for years. He’d taken a trick or two from them. His steps were as silent as theirs were, so his cloth-wrapped feet could carry him undetected through even the dustiest of passages.

These skills kept him hidden day in and day out checking rooms. Even occupied rooms never noticed his passing by. Humans often wouldn’t even imagine someone like Oscar (or even just a mouse) would be around.

He told himself this over and over, and still he was afraid now.

Out in a room, hanging from the back of the nightstand, Oscar was frozen. The crumbs stuffed into his cloth bag were heavier than ever on his shoulder, and his hands gripped the lamp cord with white knuckles.

The room was supposed to be empty.

Keep reading

August 16th excerpt:

“Dean, wait! ” Jacob cried, lifting one hand as if he might halt the towering human himself. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded, residual from the sharp reaction he’d gotten. Dean’s walls had slammed down like a ton of bricks, quickly enough to almost cause whiplash.

Jacob hadn’t given him the time he needed to cool off. He suddenly doubted any amount of time was enough.

“Please, you gotta listen to me,” he yelled, trying to ensure Dean could hear his tiny voice from his full height. Normally, Jacob would want to back off, but this was too important.

August 15th excerpt:

Jacob didn’t get a sound out before Dean’s fist slammed into the table, not even six inches away.

The surface bounced beneath his boots and the sound rang even more ominously than the humans’ voices. Jacob stumbled backwards with his wide eyes fixed on that fist. It would have left nothing of him if it landed on his body.

Best Plan Yet (Brothers Saved)

A special request from @gt-kindii!

They wanted a short story based on this picture, and I hope I did it justice!

AU:

Brothers Saved

Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; a month after Dean’s curse.

Word Count: 724

Warnings: None

Commissions are open!


“It’s so hot!

Sam looked up from where he was bent over a book, avidly reading his assigned summer lessons (only assigned because he’d asked the teacher for work to do over the summer). A slight smirk hit his face when he saw where Dean was, sprawled out on the most shadowed area of the table in an attempt to soak up what he could of the cool surface, avoiding the sun like he lived all his life in a cave.

“It’s summer,” Sam pointed out helpfully, nudging Dean in the side with a pencil. “In South Dakota.”

Dean groaned, comically loud as he tried to squirm away from the intruding eraser. “Doesn’t mean Bobby can’t invest in some air conditioning for once in his life!” he complained, pushing himself up so he was sitting. It made it easier to bat at the pencil.

Sam grinned, both for the complaints and for Dean’s relatively mellow reaction to the poke. Just a few weeks ago, his older brother, shrank by a curse to under four inches tall, had bolted from him, unable to cope with the sheer size of everything around him. Now, things were strained, especially between Dean and John, but between the brothers life was settling back down to normal.

“We’ve never had AC here before,” he reminded Dean. “And just last night you were complaining about how cold it was!”

Dean huffed in aggravation. “It was cold last night!” he insisted mulishly. “But now it’s so hot I can barely breathe in here.” He kicked out both legs, spreading himself out on the table again.

Sam frowned as Dean started ignoring him once more. As strange as it was to hear his cursed brother complain about the heat instead of a chill when there was none, Sam could understand it. Dean’s curse had hit while he was wearing his regular jeans and outfit. He didn’t have any shorts to strip down into. He could walk around in boxers, but being so vulnerable like that chafed at Dean. Small was bad enough, he would refuse to make himself more vulnerable.

“Be right back,” Sam said distractedly, pushing himself up from the table.

Dean was nearly a puddle on the table again, barely raising his hand off the surface to attempt a wave before flopping it back down. Sam smiled fondly at that, then left the room. He had a plan.


Ten minutes and three closet raids later, Sam was finally able to call his plan a success.

It wasn’t exactly what Dean was pining after, but considering that Sam, a ten-year-old kid with no current access to transportation or an adult, had to come up with it, he’d need to deal.

“Here we are!” Sam declared, plunking down a fan a few inches away from Dean and then setting up a second, larger fan for himself. He gathered up work and put that on the counter out of the way, and went searching for an outlet.

Dean sat up in a hurry at all the earthquakes, staring wide-eyed at what Sam had come up with. A small grin snuck its way onto his face.

“Where did you find those?” he asked, scrambling to his feet to look over the small fan that was nearly his size.

Sam’s head popped into view from the floor. “Bobby’s got all kinds of stuff like that hidden away in his cupboards,” he told Dean smugly. “Did you think I just sat around all day when you were playing around with the cars outside?”

Dean shook his head, bemused. “Figured you just read all day,” he responded.

Sam found an outlet, pulling out a plug for one of the lamps and taking over both sides with the fans. The one next to Dean sputtered to life, creating a cool breeze that ruffled his hair.

He barely noticed Sam returning to turn on his own fan, too busy positioning himself blissfully in front of the cool air. This new size might suck at times, but at least his little brother was just as reliable as he’d always been before.

“This is your best plan yet,” Dean said, stretching his arms up to get as much air as possible.

August 13th excerpt:

Worn wood stretched out beneath his boots. Jacob found one scratch in the table that he shuffled one foot over once, twice, while his cheeks heated up. He almost felt scolded by that blue eyed gaze.

The first day traveling with Dean came back to him, one of the scariest days in his life. After spending an entire night trapped under a vase, Jacob had been grabbed up and dropped in a pocket, trapped while Dean took him away. He had lied to protect his family, and gotten himself more or less adopted because of it.

August 12th excerpt:

It was little wonder Dean hadn’t asked about the idea ahead of time. Jacob never would have agreed to this. Even if Dean went along with it anyway.

Now, he was going to come out of that pocket no matter what. He’d never been able to avoid being picked up when Dean was determined, and he knew this would be no different. Even so, Jacob shrank away from Dean’s hand in one jerky motion, startled. One boot lifted up and he kicked at Dean’s knuckle pointedly, wishing he could divert what was happening.

“Hey!” Dean hissed. “Chill already, you’re fine!