Tag: tumble

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June 10th excerpt:

Jacob tried to slip into the pocket like he’d done before. He wasn’t used to the perspective. There was a broad chest like a wall in front of him, and Jacob already heard the heartbeat plodding away and powering the much bigger person’s body. Jacob’s heartbeat was faster, and so much weaker, and he still hadn’t been able to avoid the intimidation that always crept up his back like a chill.

When he let himself scoot off of the hand, he had farther to fall than he expected. He missed grabbing the edge of the pocket, and instead fell to the bottom in a heap. “Fuckdammit,” he complained, squirming to right himself.

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March 30th excerpt:

Jacob took a few careful steps forward, but he barely made it to Dean’s first knuckle before he stumbled and pitched forward. He tumbled head over heels onto Dean’s hand and a whuff of air rushed out of his lungs. He rolled to a stop on his back, his eyes wide and staring straight up. A few deep breaths restored his bearings, enough to realize he’d fallen right to the base of Dean’s fingers.

“Well that’s one way to do it,” he tried to play it off, but felt his cheeks heating up from the clumsy mishap.

Dean couldn’t hold in a chuckle at the abashed Jacob on his palm. As Sam grabbed his satchel, leaving his dirtied jacket behind, Dean shifted the hand a little so the flesh around Jacob was cupped, keeping him safely away from any edges as long as the fingers remained closed. It was strange to see how some of the wrinkles on his palm loomed over Jacob while he was lying flat on his back. Dean was careful not to pinch any of those tiny limbs as he shifted.

“Maybe you should let Sam give you some pointers,” Dean joked. “I think he’s the leading expert on standing on hands around here. He could even show you a thing or two about climbing.”

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February 21st excerpt:

Before they could drop back down into the pocket to get out of the way, Dean got a finger to tap against both of their heads, ruffling the messy bedheads of the smaller pair and generally messing them up more. Then, Dean patted his pocket, and that was the last straw that sent Sam tumbling down, off balance.

“I hate you,” drifted up at them from the bottom of the pocket.

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March 3rd excerpt:

“Whoa!” Dean was caught off guard by the slope that developed beneath his feet. With the way he was crouched on the hand, it tilted his balance out from under him and sent him rolling down the outstretched fingers. The hand vanished from under him and he hit the bottom of the pocket, landing in a surprised heap.

Dean popped back into sight, a predictably annoyed glare on his face at the unexpected tumble. “You can’t tilt your hand like that with Sam,” he griped.