Brothers Saved Dynamic

anonymous asked:

How does the dynamic of Big Sam/Smol Dean interact with people like Bowman, Jacob, or Nixie?

Lol, these two will be a fun pair once they grow up!

Sam tends to be a bit more hands-off with smols compared to BA Dean. He’s far less likely to just grab, unless they’re a possible threat (he hasn’t dealt with any winged smols, so they’ll get nabbed).

Meanwhile, smol Dean is hyper and very likely to pounce on a stranger, he wants to know where they came from and why they’re here, and they better not be getting into his stuff!

Dean’s had a few less savory experiences with borrowers by the time he’s grown in that AU. People just keep mistaking him as Sam’s pet and trying to ‘save’ him! He’s quite happy sticking with his little brother. Who else is supposed to take care of the kid?

If Jacob’s human-sized, it all depends on how they meet. Dean is still as stab-happy as ever if he gets grabbed, but he’s also conditioned to interacting with humans more than borrowers, so he’s not going to be put off by the kid’s size. He grew up with a Sasquatch, after all.

June 28th excerpt:

“Doesn’t exactly seem safe, running around in a room like that when I don’t know you’re there.” Sam held out the silver bullet that was pinched between his fingers, his last test unless he found some iron sitting around in the motel room. “See how this feels.”

“Yeah, because this is so much better than hiding,” Jacob muttered under his breath. He leaned skeptically away from the thing Sam held out to him so he could take a safer look at it. The shiny metal reflected his skepticism back at him in a warped image. Pinched in Sam’s huge fingers, the thing could almost disappear.

It was familiar, but Jacob couldn’t immediately summon up what that shape might mean.

June 22nd excerpt:

Dean shook his head ruefully, unable to resist reaching over to pluck the kid up, sitting him down on the book instead of huddling next to it. It happened so quickly that the little guy hardly had time to kick his tiny legs in alarm. “Sit,” Dean said dryly, pushing the mini-sandwich into his arms. “And eat. Sam, if he’s thirsty give him some water. He looks like he hasn’t eaten for a few days.”

Could sb stand for something borrowed or sorry borrowers? Maybe even selling borrowers since it seems like Jacob is getting kidnapped.

Ding ding ding!

You’ve got it! #sb stands for Something Borrowed, and the something that gets borrowed is……..

Jacob!

(Our working titles for this were Borrowed Without Permission and An Unexpected Journey, so you can imagine how fabulous this is going to go for wee Jake). 


The rumbling in the floor died out with the giant no longer in motion, and Jacob stared with wide, stunned eyes at the hand that had become a wall to him. He was less than four inches tall; that hand dwarfed him so easily it didn’t even feel real. He could see minuscule scars and calluses in the thick skin, details he probably wouldn’t even notice if he wasn’t so damn small.

Twisting around with the thought of darting back under the dresser, he found another hand blocking his way. Jacob was trapped between hands big enough to crush him with just a few fingers.

That realization settled in the pit of his stomach, and finally prompted him to look up.

Looming overhead was a giant, grinning face, smug for having caught him so easily. Jacob still couldn’t see the real motive in that face, even though he could see more than half of it now. He just saw someone smirking down at him, someone easily twenty times his own size. He was scared.

Legs shaking and nowhere to run to, Jacob held his hands up weakly. “W-wait,” he said, unsure if his voice even carried up enough for the man to hear.

Dean barely noticed Jacob talking, too riveted on the tiny teenager he’d trapped. He moved one of his hands quickly towards Jacob, knocking the kid’s feet out from under him and tipping him onto the palm of his hand with the tiniest yelp of surprise Dean had ever heard. Despite the fact that all of Jacob’s weight tumbled into his hand, Dean could barely feel him lying there.

Fascinated, Dean lifted Jacob up into the air, his intent green eyes taking in every one of Jacob’s few inches. The kid was tiny, not even stretching all the way from one side of Dean’s palm to the other. He was wearing a hoodie, slightly too large for his frame, along with jeans. Dean curiously pinched one of the tiny hands between two fingers, feeling the soft skin and precise movements of little fingers.

“Dude!” Dean couldn’t keep in the exclamation, earning a startled flinch from Jacob. “The news wasn’t kidding about you, was it?”

Sneak peek!

Since the title was guessed a bit ago, the sneak peek for M&Ms and Lucky Charms has arrived!


Before Sam could try thinking of another method, the door barged open. Jumping slightly in place, he curled his hands protectively around the tiny balled-up kid he’d found, and saw Dean sauntering back in.

“Got some grub,” Dean said, walking past Sam and tossing a package of bread on the table, followed by peanut butter and jelly from his jacket pockets. Last, he pulled out some peanut M&Ms from his back pocket and grinned proudly. “Even remembered the chocolate.”

Sam didn’t react to the food, just watching Dean over his shoulder, still sitting on the ground facing the dresser from catching the tiny kid and wondering how he was going to break this one for Dean.

Naturally, this immediately alerted Dean to the fact that something was off in Sam-land, and he narrowed his eyes at Sam.

“What? No grabbing for the M&Ms?” Dean asked suspiciously. “Whatcha doing down there, anyway?” He stepped closer to Sam, his eyes falling on the cupped hands. “What did you find?” he demanded, squatting down next to Sam. “You know what Dad says about keeping pets!” He went to grab for Sam’s wrist.

Oscar, in all the excitement of being swept off the floor, had forgotten about the other human. How he could forget about the second tenant in the room, he didn’t know. He hadn’t even considered him when thinking about running out in the open for that candy. There was a chance that he’d have been caught by the other kid instead.

The older human was loud. Oscar squeezed his eyes shut as he came nearer, and wished he could curl up into an even tinier ball so he might go unnoticed.

It was no use. He was trapped in the younger human’s hands anyway.

He peeked one eye open to chance a look past his arms, and sucked in a gasp. Another hand, bigger than the ones that held him, was fast approaching. It could snatch him up even faster, and this human might grab him too hard.

He yelped, kicking out to push as far as he could into the curve of his current captor’s fingers. More tears burst out of his eyes and his head hurt from all the pressure, but Oscar couldn’t help it. He waved his hands in front of himself weakly, as if they’d be some defense, and then the moment was over and he was curled up again in his ball of fear.

The cry of fear from in Sam’s hands galvanized him into action, and he squirmed away from Dean’s reaching hand. “No!” he cried out, protesting his older brother’s grab. He twisted out of reach, keeping his hands shut tight around the kid. “You’ll hurt him! I promised!”

There was a moment of silence, and Sam looked over his shoulder to see Dean frozen. “Sam,” Dean said slowly, his eyebrows pinching in concern. “What do you have in your hands?”

February 23rd excerpt:

Just like with Sam’s pocket, Stan became all too aware of the human he was riding. The push of a pulse through thick skin as Stan’s shoulder leaned instinctively against the semi-solid surface, hearing each breath in and out of the giant and feeling the slight rise and fall of his shoulders in time with them.

The main difference, however, was that he could see. Rather than being shut up in the dark, Stan could see almost everything Dean could. Probably more, he mused as he whipped his head around to get a load of the rest of the motel room from the height of a seated human. He wasn’t even up that high, and yet he could see how all those massive structures the humans used as furniture looked to them. Smaller, manageable, and befitting someone that size.

December 17th excerpt:

Nicholas unscrewed the top and Stan braced himself, expecting the witch to pluck him out and put him down somewhere. But it never happened. Instead, the jar simply tilted on its side, and Stan slid around on the old handkerchief he used as a cushion and blanket. Only then was Stan, jar and all, placed on the desk in the study just off the first room.

“Rest now,” said Nicholas in a voice that would almost seem gentle if not for the ever-present rasp in his voice that always warned of danger. “You did well, my pet.”

November 21st excerpt:

Rather than taking the pen and letting Dean carry on, the great pale hand reached out just a little further, knocking the smaller man off his feet and into Sherlock’s palm. Long fingers curled around Dean and the pen, lifting them both up to join him on the couch.

His grip was loose, far from crushing his passengers together, and it loosened even further as Sherlock tucked the hand under his chin, let his other hand fold lazily over it, and went back to thinking.

July 4th excerpt:

“Is that the best you can do?!” Dean called over his shoulder, jumping to the side to get out of the way of grasping fingers. Stan hadn’t given himself enough room to maneuver next to the chair, and Dean was closing in on his destination.

June 20th excerpt:

This movement caught Dean off guard, and left the smaller man clinging to the curls in surprise. “What did I say about movin?’ “ he scolded, frozen in place until he was absolutely certain Sherlock wasn’t going to knock him off. “This is hard enough already! I’d like to see you climb someone’s hair.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself and forcing any thought of how high up he was suspended in the air on a moving person, Dean started to climb again.

Only now, he put more effort into where his boots dug into Sherlock’s scalp. 

For traction.