June 16th excerpt:

Stan hopped to his feet when the humans started moving about, and did his best to keep back and out of their way until things fell relatively still. Then he crept curiously closer to Dean and the laptop, wondering about his plan as much as Sam.

“Is a… movie like a TV show?” he ventured to ask, still getting the hang of human things and how they worked. He could only imagine it was similar, since he’d heard the brothers mention movies before, and the laptop wasn’t so dissimilar to the television. The biggest difference was the computer had more options for functions, and the TV was limited to entertainment media as far as he could tell.

March 11th excerpt:

Jacob shuffled over to the music player and crouched down next to it. The cord from the earphones was cumbersome, and it almost felt like it was actively trying to tangle around him as he pushed it aside so he could reach the buttons.

When he could finally see the front of the device, now the size of a TV for him, he pressed an entire hand on one of the buttons. Choosing his own music, at least, was something he could still do by himself without someone making an argument against it.

February 17th excerpt:

The perfect place occurred to Dean at last, and he deposited Stan dead center on his chest, relaxing down into the pillow with a sigh. “Now, for some real TV,” he declared.

Stan propped himself up on his hands in attempt to right himself on the uneven ground that he belatedly realized was Dean’s chest, and he yanked those hands off of the soft shirt with a small gasp when the human spoke with Stan on him. Unlike when Stan was in Sam’s pocket, the rumbling of Dean’s voice shook him from below, which made for a slightly more intense sensation throughout Stan’s entire body.

Aside from that, the borrower found himself surrounded on all sides by the rising and falling landscape of Dean’s chest and torso. The same muscular plane that Stan had less than a day ago been admiring from afar, aspiring towards and even finding objectively handsome. Stan could feel his face heating up and quickly turned to face the TV, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice his flustered blush.

February 15th excerpt:

Sam sniffed. “Didja strike out?” he sassed, shifting his butt away from the reek of alcohol and cheap appetizers.

Rolling his eyes, Dean protested “Of course not! I just had to come back and rescue Stan from this fascinating night of procedural cop shows.” He looked back at Stan, leaning closer than normal in order to focus on the tiny features of the little man. “Really? Procedural cop shows?”

“He picked it himself!” Sam defended.

“There’s like two hundred of them on TV and they’re all the freakin’ same!” Dean complained.

February 13th excerpt:

This time, there was no stifling the laugh. Sam wished Dean was around to see the look on Stan’s face.

“No, no, no,” he hurried to reassure Stan, covering his mouth with a hand to muffle the few chuckles that made it through. “It’s a show. It’s make-believe, see?” Sam pressed the button to flip channels, and the screen switched to the news. Then to a movie, then to a soap opera. “See? No one’s stuck in our TV, they’re all just actors paid to be filmed.”

February 11th excerpt:

The laptop got placed in front of the covers, and Sam slid Stan into the top of the pillow pile, then sat on the last remaining pillow next to them. “Have at it,” he said, dropping the remote controller next to Stan and pulling the laptop closer.

Stan blinked owlishly at the huge device put in front of him, a little overwhelmed by the sight of it. It was easily twice Stan’s height in length, likely more, and covered in buttons of different shapes, colors, and sizes. Some of the buttons had numbers on them, but he still couldn’t figure out what they were for.

“Um… Sorry, what do I do with this?” He turned sheepishly to Sam, completely lost.

May 30th excerpt:

It only took Dean a moment to find a good shirt for his plans. The warm blue flannel would be perfect as a bed. He stood back up from his stooped position, giving his arms a stretch. His back cracked, almost like it was lecturing him about binge watching TV.

He rubbed his hair as he walked back over to the nightstand, his eyes slowly trailing up to where he’d left Jacob. “Hope you don’t mind a shirt, I’m a little short of beds made for Tink–”

His voice cut off when he realized Jacob wasn’t standing where he’d left him. Dean’s heart froze and he instantly stared down at the ground to make sure the floor was clear. “Jacob? Where are you?”