XD Scar had enough trouble when he found Sam trying to practice with one of the spare swords. Now his hair is sticky and Sam and Bowman are trying their best to not look guilty.
Tag: sam winchester
I bet even smol Dean would find a way to make some to cheer Sam up. Jacob, beware. You’re going to be cooking the strangest concoction known to man.
Dean has so many pockets, he could have added one in just for the umbrellas. And since Sam doesn’t have that ever-useful knack of finding things like a smol Dean would, he’s forced to deal with regular senses to try and track them down.
Naturally, he finds nothing, and the next time it rains he gets one of the flowery pink ones. He only uses it because he’s in Dean’s pocket and now it looks like Dean has an umbrella in his pocket instead of any pens.
Is there another sneak peek for brothers united?
We’ve actually paused on writing that story just like Brothers Discovered, and ended up working on a bit more angsty stories while work was stressful, but we can spare ya a peek!
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?”
“Promise not to grab?” Sam asked, sticking his lip out stubbornly.
“Promise, shorty,” Dean held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “But I need to know what you have. No secrets.”
Sam sighed, and shifted onto his knees. “He’s real scared,” he explained, cracking his hands open slowly. “You gotta be careful.”
Dean blinked in surprise at the ‘he,’ then leaned forward as Sam’s hands opened to reveal the world’s tiniest kid. “Sonovabit–”
“Dean!”
The scold cut Dean off, and all he could do was close his mouth and stare, for once rendered speechless.
Oscar was speechless too, though he felt like his heart had to be pounding loud enough for them to hear it. His ears throbbed after their short bickering, and his hands were clamped over the sides of his head. Somehow, he’d managed to stay curled up even when Sam moved around and jerked him away from Dean.
Now, though, he trembled so much it was amazing he could keep any position. Loud voices, huge hands, huge eyes, the sensations all swirled around him in a confusing whirlpool
He hiccupped and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of a hand. More tears replaced what he’d wiped away, and he kept the hand in front of his face to hide the only way he could.
“Dude, where’d you even find him?” Dean shot at Sam, rapid fire.
January 12th excerpt
“So what’s the plan for the day?” Sam asked as he picked up his fork, starting in on his own food once it looked like Stan was settled.
“Researmph,” Dean mumbled around a piece of sausage, eliciting a glare from Sam when he talked with his mouth full.
January 11th excerpt:
Sam shoo’d Dean away, keeping a tight grip on the food. “Wait your turn,” he scolded, setting up on the table.
Dean sank back into his seat, impatiently watching Sam pull out his acquisitions. Each brother got a cup of coffee, and the orange juice was placed to the side. The meals were similar; Dean’s ran heavier on the bacon and sausage end and Sam’s had more fruit, but for breakfast, it wasn’t bad. The lack of continental at the motel had seemed disappointing at first until they found a local diner that served at all times during the day. Good prices, decent food.
Sam portioned out a bit of everything on a napkin for Stan, filling the bottlecap from last night with OJ. “Maybe this’ll work better than the soda,” he said ruefully.
How do you think Dean would have reacted if he really did seriously hurt Sam before realizing who he was?
There would be a lot, a lot of guilt, self-flagellation, trying to insist Sam stay away from him, he’s clearly too dangerous, and so much drinking.
All the drinks.
It wouldn’t be a happy AU.
Sneak peek!
As everyone knows #eotm was guessed at last by @torchmlp! Epidemic of the Mannequins was inspired by the song Through Glass, by Stone Sour, and reflects a lot of the themes found within. Definitely a must-listen!
“Oh no. Oh shit.”
Sam glanced over, confusion on his face. “Dean, what…?”
Dean leapt into action when he saw Chase shift his weight, and bolt. “Sam, you’ve gotta catch him!” he snapped, his mind switching right over to problem solving mode. “Jacob will just make things worse if he tries to grab Chase.”
“But, what do you…” Sam trailed off as he spotted what Dean had seen far too late.
Jacob, standing directly over Chase after he’d shrunk.
“Just go!” Dean said, pushing Sam towards the edge. It was only a second before Sam had his hook wedged into the edge of the dresser and was dwindling down towards the floor. Dean got his own hook out, preparing himself for the same (if slightly slower) journey, and glared up at Jacob. “Make sure he doesn’t reach the door!”
By the time Dean had his hook wedged and was dropping down to the floor himself, Sam had already touched down and darted after Chase, his longer legs closing the distance.
Jacob’s eyes were wide. Everything had shifted so quickly, and yet he could probably cover the distance Chase had managed to run in one mid-sized step. His best friend was quick, but so small. He ran with the kind of fervor that only came about with blinding terror. One little glance over a tiny shoulder explained it in clear terms.
Chase was terrified of Jacob.
Is anyone else as big a fan of tiny Chase as I am? XD
Artwork by @mogadeer
January 9th excerpt:
Instead of immediately going over to the drawer to check on their tiny, vulnerable victim, Dean picked up the water bottle from the table, unscrewing the top for a drink while he cooled down. “I see Sleeping Beauty decided to join us in the land of the waking,” he joked, a glimmer in his eye.
Stan fought the urge to duck down behind the face of the drawer when Dean saw him and addressed him, more embarrassed that he’d been caught staring than afraid this time. It was mesmerizing, watching muscles larger than he would ever be flex and contract in Dean’s arms, back muscles rippling like waves as he worked. Stan was hard-pressed to tear his eyes away when he had no immediate cause to fear the strength in those muscles.
“Good m-morning,” Stan replied as heat rose in his neck. He hoped that his size and Dean’s distance would hide his blush, flustered to realize that he’d been thinking of the human as handsome. Now that he wasn’t hovering and Stan had space to see all of him at once, he had to admit that he, and Sam now that he thought of it, were both objectively good-looking.
January 7th excerpt:
Sam reached forward, nudging the little shirt Stan had shaken out from its little clump. The little guy gave the tiniest of flinches, broken out of his retrospective state, and glanced up at Sam. “You can put this back on,” he said, keeping his voice soft, the way he treated the more traumatized victims they ran into. Stan nodded and did just that, giving a slight wince when his arms were raised above shoulder level.
Brothers Apart 