100 words of goodness
Aug. 22nd, 2009 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chase_acow
So there was a drabble contest for that Olympics challenge I told y'all about. My team pretty much got our asses handed to us, but I still enjoyed it more than I thought I would. I've never been a big fan of drabbles, but it was really relaxing to sit here and play until I got 100 words. : )
Here's my favorite ->
Proportional
Sam/Dean humor
horns
Dean stared at it. It stared back.
He shifted to the left; it matched him, leaving no escape, no way through. Dean pursed his lips, his hand twitching to the gun tucked at his waist.
"If you two need some alone time, I could wait in the car," Sam offered, laughter in his voice.
"Look at those horns, Sammy," Dean said, gesturing at the longhorn steer blocking the road. "The spread's gotta be five feet."
Sam sidled up behind him, wrapping those long arms around Dean's waist and tucking his head into Dean's shoulder, "You always were a size queen."
Licorice Lips
Sam/Dean weecest
Tattle
"Dad!"
Dean tackled Sammy, covering his little brother's mouth. "Why do you have to be such a little tattle-tale?" he hissed, rolling over until his weight held Sam down.
"That was my piece of licorice!" Sam pouted, as soon as Dean lifted his hand.
Sighing, Dean rolled his eyes, "Don't be a baby. You don't even like licorice."
Sam's lower lip wobbled and his eyes got watery, and Dean knew their dad would hear the high-pitched scream. When Sam's lungs filled completely, Dean dropped his head and slammed their mouths together. Sammy gasped, licking into Dean's mouth chasing the sweet.
Just Reward
Sam/Dean
wings
"Seriously, we stop the apocalypse, and this is what we get?" Dean asked, turning circles trying to look at his own back.
Sam kept hopping, testing how long the miniature angel wings could keep him up. He smiled, "I dunno. I kinda like them."
With barely a three-foot span, the wings with their fluffy white feathers, were the next thing to useless. Dean scowled.
"Want a better reward?" Sam asked, suddenly serious. He ran a hand down his bare stomach and cocked his hips. "Better come here, then."
Dean came, repeatedly. Turned out the wings sprayed glitter every single time.
Dead End
Sam/Dean non-con
miserable
Sam pulled away, sticky with sweat, come and blood. The hotel room shambles couldn't match the miserable wreck of his soul. Ruby's blood made him strong, strong enough to take what he'd always wanted, but left ash lying in his veins.
"I don't know you, Sam," Dean whispered, voice hoarse. He stood and dragged his pants up. "I never knew you."
"No," Sam agreed, he shooed Ruby outside to wait, and turned back to his brother, "but you won't know this either."
He touched Dean's temple and flicked out his power. "Forget," he whispered, and caught Dean as he fell.
Autumn Surprise
Sam/Dean
pumpkins
Wiping pumpkin guts off his face, Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Sammy gurgled happily from Bobby's counter; stringy entrails of pumpkin wreathed his head like a demented halo.
"Seeds go in the bowl, not on my face, buddy," Dean said, gently prying Sam's hands off the pumpkins. "C'mon, Sammy, it's bath time."
The witches cast the spell to last for seven days. It had only been three, and Dean missed his brother like he'd miss breathing. Baby Sam fit in the crook of his arm, but he missed the Sam big enough to curl around Dean's body.
Sam
Sam/Dean
love
Love isn't gigantic chocolate hearts, greeting cards bound for the recycling bin, or rings that leave behind a circle of green. Not happy declarations with an expiration date before the milk.
Winchesters don't love.
It isn't love that kept Dean glued to Sam's side through the worst of the detox. Didn't make Dean hold Sam's hair and wipe his brow while he puked buckets of demon blood. Sam sobbed in his arms and Dean kissed the back of his neck.
Love doesn't make bonds that hold forever.
There's only blood, and bone, and sweat. There's only Sam, but that's enough.
Undercover
Sam/Dean
jangles
The bracelets covering Sam's wrists jangle with every motion. Colored lights make his painted eyes exotic, and not just Dean's geek brother.
Dean smirks, spreads his thighs, and adjusts himself in too tight pants. Sam shimmies, drags fingers through the baby oil spread on his chest, and leans down close enough to share his body heat. Close enough to kiss.
"Hey, baby, how much'll this buy me?" Dean teases, holding up a Benjamin.
"About a five second head start once I'm free from this getup."
Dean's glad he finally threw paper to Sam's rock. Sam's a better undercover stripper anyway.
King of Hell
Sam/Dean
wings, flexible, dimly, miserable, torment, revenge, angry, fights, love, horns
Sam's wings spread wide to blot out the sun. Dean touched the flexible black webbing, dimly wondering how sensitive they were.
"Dean, please?" Sam's voice carried over the miserable wails of souls in torment.
"When have I ever said no to you?" Dean asked, instead of answering.
"Never," Sam answered, kissing Dean until his lungs ached.
Dean's revenge on the angels didn't happen exactly the way he'd thought. Castiel's angry shouts still echoed through his mind, and the fights with Bobby gave him nightmares.
"I love you, Dean," Sam promised, his horns shone in hellfire. "I'll make you feel it."
The Replacement
Sam/Dean Sam/Jess
Torment, flexible, revenge, love, miserable, Angry, horns, jangles
Stanford didn't stop his torment. Sam's flexible enough to fit in, but he's not one of them. They thought revenge paid back roommates for eating the last Oreo. They thought love meant holding hands and sharing a milkshake.
Sam knew better, still felt miserable, overcome with feelings for his brother. Angry horns prick his heart and soul even with half a country and two years between them. One kiss. One kiss jangles through his soul reminding him of everything he wants and can't have.
There's a girl in class. She drinks and curses. She sings Led Zeppelin in the shower.
Playing Doctor
Sam/Dean
miserable, angry, pooky, bananas, revenge, offended
"Why you miserable bastard."
Dean's lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at Sam. He'd never made a very good patient, but Sam was determined to make Dean stay in bed until the bruises faded from angry black. He wasn't going to lose his brother again. Not to something as stupid as a drunk driver.
"C'mon, pooky," Sam teased, stirring the pudding that tasted like bananas. "Open up the hanger, here comes the plane."
Sam knew that he'd have to be on guard waiting for revenge. Dean's offended glare was a thousand times better than Dean's cold body.
Here's my favorite ->
Proportional
Sam/Dean humor
horns
Dean stared at it. It stared back.
He shifted to the left; it matched him, leaving no escape, no way through. Dean pursed his lips, his hand twitching to the gun tucked at his waist.
"If you two need some alone time, I could wait in the car," Sam offered, laughter in his voice.
"Look at those horns, Sammy," Dean said, gesturing at the longhorn steer blocking the road. "The spread's gotta be five feet."
Sam sidled up behind him, wrapping those long arms around Dean's waist and tucking his head into Dean's shoulder, "You always were a size queen."
Licorice Lips
Sam/Dean weecest
Tattle
"Dad!"
Dean tackled Sammy, covering his little brother's mouth. "Why do you have to be such a little tattle-tale?" he hissed, rolling over until his weight held Sam down.
"That was my piece of licorice!" Sam pouted, as soon as Dean lifted his hand.
Sighing, Dean rolled his eyes, "Don't be a baby. You don't even like licorice."
Sam's lower lip wobbled and his eyes got watery, and Dean knew their dad would hear the high-pitched scream. When Sam's lungs filled completely, Dean dropped his head and slammed their mouths together. Sammy gasped, licking into Dean's mouth chasing the sweet.
Just Reward
Sam/Dean
wings
"Seriously, we stop the apocalypse, and this is what we get?" Dean asked, turning circles trying to look at his own back.
Sam kept hopping, testing how long the miniature angel wings could keep him up. He smiled, "I dunno. I kinda like them."
With barely a three-foot span, the wings with their fluffy white feathers, were the next thing to useless. Dean scowled.
"Want a better reward?" Sam asked, suddenly serious. He ran a hand down his bare stomach and cocked his hips. "Better come here, then."
Dean came, repeatedly. Turned out the wings sprayed glitter every single time.
Dead End
Sam/Dean non-con
miserable
Sam pulled away, sticky with sweat, come and blood. The hotel room shambles couldn't match the miserable wreck of his soul. Ruby's blood made him strong, strong enough to take what he'd always wanted, but left ash lying in his veins.
"I don't know you, Sam," Dean whispered, voice hoarse. He stood and dragged his pants up. "I never knew you."
"No," Sam agreed, he shooed Ruby outside to wait, and turned back to his brother, "but you won't know this either."
He touched Dean's temple and flicked out his power. "Forget," he whispered, and caught Dean as he fell.
Autumn Surprise
Sam/Dean
pumpkins
Wiping pumpkin guts off his face, Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Sammy gurgled happily from Bobby's counter; stringy entrails of pumpkin wreathed his head like a demented halo.
"Seeds go in the bowl, not on my face, buddy," Dean said, gently prying Sam's hands off the pumpkins. "C'mon, Sammy, it's bath time."
The witches cast the spell to last for seven days. It had only been three, and Dean missed his brother like he'd miss breathing. Baby Sam fit in the crook of his arm, but he missed the Sam big enough to curl around Dean's body.
Sam
Sam/Dean
love
Love isn't gigantic chocolate hearts, greeting cards bound for the recycling bin, or rings that leave behind a circle of green. Not happy declarations with an expiration date before the milk.
Winchesters don't love.
It isn't love that kept Dean glued to Sam's side through the worst of the detox. Didn't make Dean hold Sam's hair and wipe his brow while he puked buckets of demon blood. Sam sobbed in his arms and Dean kissed the back of his neck.
Love doesn't make bonds that hold forever.
There's only blood, and bone, and sweat. There's only Sam, but that's enough.
Undercover
Sam/Dean
jangles
The bracelets covering Sam's wrists jangle with every motion. Colored lights make his painted eyes exotic, and not just Dean's geek brother.
Dean smirks, spreads his thighs, and adjusts himself in too tight pants. Sam shimmies, drags fingers through the baby oil spread on his chest, and leans down close enough to share his body heat. Close enough to kiss.
"Hey, baby, how much'll this buy me?" Dean teases, holding up a Benjamin.
"About a five second head start once I'm free from this getup."
Dean's glad he finally threw paper to Sam's rock. Sam's a better undercover stripper anyway.
King of Hell
Sam/Dean
wings, flexible, dimly, miserable, torment, revenge, angry, fights, love, horns
Sam's wings spread wide to blot out the sun. Dean touched the flexible black webbing, dimly wondering how sensitive they were.
"Dean, please?" Sam's voice carried over the miserable wails of souls in torment.
"When have I ever said no to you?" Dean asked, instead of answering.
"Never," Sam answered, kissing Dean until his lungs ached.
Dean's revenge on the angels didn't happen exactly the way he'd thought. Castiel's angry shouts still echoed through his mind, and the fights with Bobby gave him nightmares.
"I love you, Dean," Sam promised, his horns shone in hellfire. "I'll make you feel it."
The Replacement
Sam/Dean Sam/Jess
Torment, flexible, revenge, love, miserable, Angry, horns, jangles
Stanford didn't stop his torment. Sam's flexible enough to fit in, but he's not one of them. They thought revenge paid back roommates for eating the last Oreo. They thought love meant holding hands and sharing a milkshake.
Sam knew better, still felt miserable, overcome with feelings for his brother. Angry horns prick his heart and soul even with half a country and two years between them. One kiss. One kiss jangles through his soul reminding him of everything he wants and can't have.
There's a girl in class. She drinks and curses. She sings Led Zeppelin in the shower.
Playing Doctor
Sam/Dean
miserable, angry, pooky, bananas, revenge, offended
"Why you miserable bastard."
Dean's lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at Sam. He'd never made a very good patient, but Sam was determined to make Dean stay in bed until the bruises faded from angry black. He wasn't going to lose his brother again. Not to something as stupid as a drunk driver.
"C'mon, pooky," Sam teased, stirring the pudding that tasted like bananas. "Open up the hanger, here comes the plane."
Sam knew that he'd have to be on guard waiting for revenge. Dean's offended glare was a thousand times better than Dean's cold body.
