Reader messages

Not gonna lie, I’m the person that reads about the one time Sam got shoved into Dean’s pant pocket and my first thought is “I wish I could see that scene” 😂 All I can picture is Dean being flustered and Sam being grouchy…

Lol! That’s gotta be the most awkward position for those two to get caught in!

There’s actually a scene in Deanzilla vs Hydros, towards the later chapters, where this happens with regular sized Sam and his giant brother, so I definitely had inspiration for it!

thepoisonlily asked:

(Part 1 of 2) So, to preface, this is more of a passing comment than a prompt or ask since I know that life is crazy and inspiration comes and goes. I’m rereading Brothers Together and I had forgotten how many things are mentioned that I wished I could see what happened! I can’t get the thought out of my mind of what it must have been like for smol Sam to stitch Dean up after a hunt or what happened when Sam temporarily lost his hearing after being too close to Dean’s gun firing.

(Part 2 of 2) I especially keep imagining what it must have been like when Dean pretended to be drunk on the hunt while Sam was giving him directions on the phone. I have this theory that Dean was trying to see just how many ridiculous phrases he could say and still get away with his drunk persona… Basically, I love the multiverse you have created and I can’t wait to read more! 😍 


Aw thanks soooo much!

Those little story bits are always fun to have hanging around, just a tease to what their lives are like day-to-day! I might not be able to write everything out, but there’s always the chance someone else might get inspiration from them for their own story!

Sam is resigned to his giant, fake-drunk brother at this point, lol. He’s gotta keep an eye on that hunter so he doesn’t go getting himself in trouble!

Thank you so much for these messages! 

I’ve watched streams, but I don’t think I could actually run one myself. I have a pretty bad anxiety about talking online or using webcams (my new computer doesn’t even have one), but I think we can manage something similar.

Would people like to do a chatroom for that weekend? We could all talk, chat, share stories and ideas and whatever else. Or does anyone else have ideas?

I am in need of help! We’re looking for ideas for good borrower/little last names, so if you’ve got any thoughts, head on over to the survey link and drop one in! There’s more than a few bbys aleady who could use some last names (Kara and Christian, to name a few), and some upcoming bbys that will need last names!

Survey here!

This one is open to retake as many times as you have ideas– just try to not repeat the same idea over and over, we’re looking for fresh things!

Sam cautiously pushed open the door of his room, glancing around the dark interior before stepping in. It closed behind him with a click as he padded over to the light switch, trying to soften his footsteps as he went.

“Dean?” he called out as he snapped on the light, peering around every corner he could see. “You here?”

When no answer came, he carried his bags over to the table, piling them on the surface. He started to go through them, pulling out his lunch and a white container from the local quickee shop.

“Y’know, you need to work on your sneaking skills,” came a teasing voice from down on the ground.

Surprised, Sam pulled his feet off the floor, searching for the small figure. Dean was standing down next to the leg of the bed.

“I’m not trying to sneak around in my own room!” Sam shot back, watching wide-eyed as his tiny big brother darted out into the open, heading for the table. Watching Dean toss his small hook at the table, catching it on the edge of one of the bags Sam had placed there moments ago, was mesmerizing. He was so small, but he didn’t seem to have an issue getting around at all.

It was only a moment before Dean managed to scramble to the top, sauntering with a casual bow-legged walk across the wooden surface. Boots barely the size of Sam’s fingertip scuffed against the grain. “What if there was someone in here waiting for you?” Dean pointed out as he stopped, putting his hands casually in the back pockets of his jeans.

Sam had to hold back the questions he had shaking around in his head. Where did Dean get his clothes from? How’d he survive? Did he live nearby?

And the hardest question of all, one that Sam had no right to ask.

Would Dean consider leaving the motel?

For now, he simply picked up the white container. “If there’s anyone in here, I figure you’d warn me,” he stated dryly.

Dean frowned, then nodded sharply. Sam smirked. They both remembered the old days where Dean had always watched out for him. It didn’t seem like anything had changed there.

Dean took a step towards the box, then warily eyed the huge hands around it. “What’s that?” he asked.

A flicker of hurt hit Sam at the clear suspicion and distrust, but considering just a day ago he’d grabbed Dean in a fist, he couldn’t blame his brother for it. Hopefully he’d be able to get past that roadblock.

Sam mentally shrugged it off as he opened the container. “I figured I owe you… for yesterday and… leaving you here, all that time ago.” He sighed, shoulders slumping down at the memories. “I can’t really make up for that,” he mumbled, “but I figured I could at least start.”

A light touch on his hand drew his attention away from the past. Dean was standing there, right next to the hands he was so wary around. “Sammy, that wasn’t your fault,” he said in a gruff voice that was deeper than he’d ever expected from someone so small. “We can’t change the past. You were never to blame in any of this.”

Sam blew his hair out of his eyes with a sigh. “Right.” He did his best to believe what Dean had said…

But still.

If he’d never left, Dean wouldn’t be afraid of him. His big brother wouldn’t be leery just standing near his hands. He could have taken care of his big brother the way family was supposed to.

Sam unfolded his hands from the box. “I hope your favorite’s still pie,” he said, letting himself smile again. “I know you used to love apple.”

Dean’s eyes were huge at the sight. A fresh slice of apple pie sat there, bigger than he was. “Holy shit…” he breathed. He took a step towards it, then hesitated. He craned his neck over his shoulder. “You got this… for me?” he asked in disbelief.

Sam’s grin covered his face. “Who else?” he asked back. “It’s all yours. I even have my own snack right over here.” He pulled out a wrap, taking off the aluminum foil to reveal his sandwich. “Take your time.”

Dean relaxed a little more, some of the tension that lingered from the other day dropping away. He walked up, putting a hand on the crumbling crust and breaking off a piece to stare at it for a moment. In complete disbelief that it was there, waiting for him. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Poor Sam. He’ll have to find a way to let Dean know it’s him. Maybe he can get some of his pencil lead out of the desk and scratch out a message for Dean. It won’t be easy, but mice are crafty little guys. Sam can manage it. Dean will never let him live it down, that’s for sure. And for the next few days he’s got a mouse in his pocket, keeping Sammy safe.

I have a feeling, if cats can pull off a bitchface, that’s what Dean will be getting for that picture. Super teeny kitty, though! So cute, and it’s probably a good thing he only has itty bitty claws. Dean will probably be driving him nuts before they manage to get him back to normal.

Dean glanced around at his surroundings, making sure no one was close enough to catch sight of Sam nestled in the crook of his neck. There was no one visible for miles, flatland stretching away from them. The junkyard behind Bobby’s house was visible, the metal of the cars glinting in the light. He just needed to stop in, ask Bobby for some–

Dean’s foot caught on the step, making him stumble forward with a curse. He slammed against the banister, catching the rail with one hand. Sam, not expecting the sudden forward motion, almost went flying, catching the edge of Dean’s shirt. He slammed into the hunter’s chest, dangling free while Dean took a deep breath, startled from the close call.

Wincing, he pried his hand off the banister at the same time as his other hand cupped under Sam’s dangling body. Blood welled up from where a splinter had stabbed into Dean’s skin.

He signed, ignoring it. “You okay, Sammy?”

Sam dropped onto his hand, knees collapsing under him. “Do us all a favor, and watch where you’re going, next time?”

Oh, I’d love to do Charlie, but I don’t know if the fic would make it all the way to season seven and eight. She’s such a bright ball of sunshine. Sam would probably get a kick out of all the action figures she has. At least if Sam breaks into her home like the Winchesters did that first time he wouldn’t so much scare the crap out of her. She’ll think she found a borrower living in her house!

Oh, man. Can you see Sam dealing with a hyperactive squirrel version of his brother? Especially since he isn’t his moose self, like on the show. If he can get Dean to sit still for a few minutes, he could always hitch a ride on the squirrel. They could have an adventure together.

…But if they want to get Dean back to normal, they should call Bobby. Especially since neither of them can now drive the Impala. Yep, definitely call Bobby. And deal with Dean’s constant bitching about anyone else finding out that he’s now a squirrel