February 19th, 2014


Nowhere To Hide

Characters: Sam, Dean, OC
Word count: 100
Rating: G

They are looking for me. There is no escape from the Winchesters, I know that much. Years of ganking everything that breathed, or didn’t breathe, and had once breathed and now didn’t or had never breathed at all--stop obsessing--

Was that Sam’s footsteps? Oh, no, oh, no, please--

Are they coming closer? No, no, no, no--

Phew! He’s walking away. The door closed.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

What’s that--what’s that? No, it can’t be--why me? Why do the Winchesters want me?


“I’ve been looking all over for this! Sam,who puts pie in a freakin' dungeon?”


PB & J

Characters: Castiel, Dean, OC
Rating: G
Word Count: 100

Cas regretted being an angel again. He missed eating.  It wasn’t just the PB&J. It was chocolate pudding, tuna salad, pretzels, those funny little candies that tasted like sweet chalk and had words such as LOVE and KISS ME on them. Now, everything was molecules. Maybe there was a solution...
“Hello, is this Dean Smith?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m Professor Schroeder at Kansas University--“
“Hey, yeah, that’s in Lawrence! How are ya, Prof?”
“Not too well at the moment. I’m head of the science department, and there’s a man in a trenchcoat in my lab licking the petri dishes.”

a fun piece of Crack I wanted to share!

title: Eight Arms are Better than Two-- Right?
author: fannishliss
fandom: supernatural
rating: G
length: 899 words

summary: Sam, in s3, considered saving Dean from Hell by making him immortal through creepy super science.  In this story, the result is that Dean is an Octopus.

author's notes: from a comment fic at kalliel's journal, and also for indiachick.  Most G-rated tentacle story EVER.
warning: special arm (his third right arm)

( at my LJ )

I hope you will enjoy!!

Bounce To The Ounce

Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas
Word count: 100
Rating: G

Dean bit into his bacon cheeseburger, even better because he’d made it himself.
“Dude, you’re getting love handles,” said his brother.
“Love handles? Are you fucking kidding me? I weigh the same as I did in high school.”
“Yeah, right.”
Dean dropped the burger. “Where’s a scale?”
“There’s a doctor’s scale in the restroom.”
“How do I know you didn’t mess with it?”
“I calibrated to the ounce, Dean,” said Cas.
“Okay, Gigantor, you asked for it.” Dean stomped off to the restroom.
“Thanks for calibrating it for ten extra pounds, Cas.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dean’s "SONAVABITCH!" was reward in itself.
exercise, team

If I had a bar, I'd probably try this at least once!

TITLE: Worth It
RATING: PG (Because alcohol? I dunno.)
WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, wanton destruction
SPOILERS: Not really.

Jo looked at the freshly waxed and polished bar top with a sense of accomplishment. She grabbed herself a celebratory beer--surely her mother wouldn’t mind!

Drops of condensation slid down the sides of the cold bottle, beading on the bar’s surface. Jo slid the bottle back and forth between her hands, enjoying the smooth glide. Her smile grew wider when she decided to try something she’d always wanted to do.

The bottle slid down the whole bar before hitting the floor and shattering. Jo was still grinning when she went for the broom and dust pan.

“Totally worth it!”
Team Diet

Team Diet: The Morning After


Rating: K+
Genre: Humour
Character: Sam and Dean Winchester
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: Don't own them!


Staring at the sprawled wreck in the bed, Sam was getting desperate..

He'd ripped Dean’s quilt off, soaked him with cold water, tickled his feet, slapped his face (Sam enjoyed that so much he did it twice) and achieved precisely nothing.

What the heck was the freakin' jerk drinking last night?

"Dean, wake up;" he yelled, "we gotta check out."

Dean snorted; "kiss m’ass."

"Right, moron, you asked for it;" Sam stomped across the room and tipped the mattress, watching Dean roll inelegantly to the floor with an indignant squawk and an untidy thud.

Sam smiled triumphantly and reached for the Vicodin.


exercise, team

Oh, that sweet siren song...

TITLE: Irresistible
SPOILERS: Not really.

“You’re a grown man, Bobby Singer,” the hunter told himself as he stared at the embodiment of temptation in front of him, “and you can control yourself.”

He felt all his muscles twitch minutely as he ordered himself to stay still, to not give in to his first impulse.

Then again, there was no one around to see what he was contemplating. Who would it really hurt? It was just a bit of harmless fun, wasn’t it?

Bobby gnawed his lower lip and glanced furtively around to make sure he was really out here alone.

He jumped in the puddle.
exercise, team

He ain't heavy, he's my--wait...

TITLE: Actually, He Is Heavy!
CHARACTER: Sam and Dean
WARNINGS: Manhandling?
SPOILERS: Not really.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written at auntmo9's suggestion and inspired by dizzojay's very funny drabble The Morning After.

It became clear that hungover Dean would not be moving on his own.

Sam tried scooping him up bridal style, but Dean somehow folded completely in half and slid through his arms. Five minutes ago, Sam would have sworn up and down that Dean was nowhere near that flexible!

His brother's limbs were like noodles, and it seemed like he suddenly had more of them than usual. Sam finally managed to get his brother slung over his shoulders, the dead weight feeling extra heavy.

“You so owe me for this, jerk!”

Running Dean into the doorframe was an accident. Honest.

Metaphors That Aren't

They were at the starting line. Dean was super excited; even had on his special running shoes and shorts, for once. He didn't care if they made Sam crack up every time he looked Dean's way; they were his special shorts and he would run all the way to the bank with them on.

He had, more than once.

“Uh, Dean?” Sam said slowly. “I'm not trying to alarm you, but don't the other runners look awfully...realistic?”

“Oh shit!” Dean yelled. “Run, Sam! Who the hell decided that the Zombie Run should have actual fricking zombies?!”