Jacob Andris © @neonthewrite
Artwork by @lamthetwickster
Tag: cursing cw
June 25th excerpt:
“Holy shit.”
Sam ignored the almost strangled curses that came from behind him, intent on following the fresh path the giant had left behind. One hand on his bag to keep it from striking repeatedly against his side, he almost leapt over a broken branch, running as fast as they could.
It just didn’t seem possible.
One step from the giant cleared more ground than either brother could run. There was just no way for them to keep up. If it didn’t leave such a broad path to follow, they wouldn’t have a chance of finding it again so fast.
“Friggin’ shit.”
One would hope that they get coffee if they’re going to be road tripping with Jacob to find their father! (Along with breakfast. Feed them, Jake. They haven’t eaten well in years.)
Sam would try the coffee, wrinkle his nose and dump cream and sugar into it until it almost doesn’t taste like coffee. Dean would scoff at this, drink it black and call it the nectar of the gods, and give Jacob The Look. Don’t you fuckin’ dare put me back in that coffee pot ever again.
That little idea was created around the time this blog began, so things have changed, but I think one part has remained the same.
This gives two options. Sam can choose a pocket, or a shoulder. If Sam was to go for the pocket, he can’t see what’s going on and he can’t help Dean out if they find trouble. I think the Sam we have in our stories isn’t about to let Dean be the only one who’s going to take risks. Small or not, he’s going to insist that he be the lookout. After all, he can tell when people are looking at him, right?! So why should he leave Dean to fall into a trap?
Sam will make sure to keep that brother of his out of trouble, no matter who’s around. He’s not about to sit this out in a pocket. 🙂
True! Dean can be heavy-handed when either the situation calls for it or when he’s hot-headed and raring for a fight.
The difference here is if he does roughhouse with Sam, he could do permanent damage to his little brother, and put an end to what trust they’ve managed to scrape together. That said, I highly doubt Dean will ever win a fight in this method. The relationship between them is different in my AU than what’s on the Supernatural TV show.
On the other hand, Dean has absolutely no problem using his size against his enemies. Even Bowman, at first, had to deal with a harsher Dean than Sam anytime.
Future snippet to illustrate this:
“It wasn’t an offer,” Dean said simply. The defiant stance had no effect on his determination. “And if you don’t, you’ll just have to deal with the consequences. Simple as that.”
With a painful slowness, he curled the fingers of his hand inwards, boxing the man in. The little guy’s eyes widened and he tried to push himself away from the advancing wall. But his hands were small against even Dean’s fingertips, unable to hold them back.
Dean didn’t stop there. In short order, there was no sign that he had another human in his hand. All that was visible was Dean’s fist and the ring on his finger. The guy was completely clenched inside.
“Fuck! Let me out! ” the man bellowed, seething with the knowledge that a lot of his volume was lost to the prison encased around him. He writhed as much as he could in the extremely tight space, which didn’t say much. His arms were pinned at awkward angles to his chest and his legs could hardly move at all. Dean’s ring dug into his side mercilessly every time he shifted.
Without warning, Dean flipped his hand upside down so all that was holding the guy from dashing to the ground was Dean’s curled fingers. “This is a classic case of ‘be careful what you wish for,’ ” Dean said with a grin. His fingers loosened up a little so that the guy would be able to see the ground down below through the cracks.
With the constant struggles, Dean waited patiently until one of the man’s small legs happened into the space between his index finger and thumb. Seizing the moment, his finger pinned the leg against his thumb…
And Dean opened his hand.
(Name removed for spoiler purposes)
Ooo, the horror story. Well, I don’t think Jacob is pleased that we’re all so interested in it…
The horror story is the 3rd story of Brothers Found. That means, it’ll only have a chance of appearing in the poll once we’ve gotten through the first and second stories of that AU. Jacob’s got his fingers crossed that we pick other choices.
Currently, we are working on editing the horror story, because it is actually the longest story we have written together. Beware!
…He would like to go home now, pls.
Artwork by @lamthetwickster
Getting this message on Monday morning had to be the best way to start off my day! You are just as amazing, and you put a smile right on my face.
That means the world to me to hear! I’ve tried hard to make the stories able to stand on their own, especially the Brothers Apart series and all the AUs that are based around it. Plus, the OCs in the stories are so fun to have around, both mine and Neon’s. They really seem to have minds of their own somedays.
Don’t worry about the stories ever running out. Even at three posts a week, we probably have around a year’s worth of stories we’re writing/editing/working on, and always more on the way! And honestly, since we’ve cried over some of the parts, you’ll probably feel a few tears coming up in them.
It will be in the poll, but not at first! The horror story is the third part of Brothers Found, so before that appears in the poll we’ll need the other two parts to post!
And we agree! Smol Jacob is so cute you just want to eat him right up!
Glancing up at Dean, Sam gave the hunter a thumbs up, letting him know they were ready. He was thankful that he was being patient while they got settled on his palm. Jacob, no doubt thanks to his usually very chill demeanor, was managing to hold onto his sanity for now, but there was a lot being thrown at him. Sam didn’t envy what he was going through at all. Hell, Jacob was barely the length of Sam’s arm.
Once he saw the signal, Dean nodded cautiously. His fingers curled up around them as he lifted himself off the ground and went back to his knees. Sam swayed a little in place, making Dean realize he was shakier than normal. Slow and steady, he cautioned himself. He couldn’t even feel Jacob’s weight in his hand, so he needed to do this right. There was a huge amount of trust invested in him by the people on his hand.
Once he was upright, Dean held the hand near his face, finally able to see Jacob clearly. “Hey kid,” he whispered. “How you feeling?”
Jacob’s eyes were a wide as he stared back. He could see every freckle on Dean’s face, every minor shift of his irises as green eyes the size of Jacob dilated to focus on him. Jacob thought that he could be looking at a face projected on the Times Square coke sign and it would be about this big.
It was a discouraging thought that he needed to be this close for Dean to be able to see him clearly. There was no way for him to be sure exactly how big he was; he was certain the others had a guess as to his current measurement, but he wasn’t going to be asking that anytime soon. It had to be tiny if the simple action of Dean whispering sent a considerable breeze over his body.
“Uh, well,” Jacob started, offering another nervous chuckle as he glanced around from his high perch. It was kind of funny that Sam had told him to hang on … there wasn’t much to hang onto on the huge, living platform.
“I’m feeling like this is all kinda weird, and like maybe the bones in my legs went on vacation. But other than that I’m actually fine, mostly just being a pansy ass because fuck."
If anything close to this happened, Dean would find a sink to let them off into to clean up, and then wash his hand off in the bathtub. Much embarrassment for all involved. Same for if they puked.
Ooo, at last someone has solved the mystery. Jacob is indeed the kid that finds Sam in a motel room. (Compared to Sam, Jacob at his 17 years of age is just a kid) Neither of them expect it, that’s for sure.
Annnd… since someone has guessed who the kid in the story is, it’s time for another sneak peek!
“Wow,” Jacob muttered aloud, his free hand nudging the little bag that now lay mostly free on his hand, part of the strap secured just as much as the tiny chest was. Two impossibly small clasps held it shut and Jacob couldn’t help the amazed smile. He poked at one of the teeny legs, amazed that the little guy was even wearing miniature jeans, denim and all.
His gaze drifted back to the little guy’s face. “What are you?” he asked, unsure if he’d even be understood. It was worth a shot.
The little guy didn’t seem to have understood Jacob’s question, judging by the way he resumed his struggles. He’d heard, definitely, because Jacob had felt him tense up from the noise. He supposed his voice might be a little loud for such tiny ears. He’d have to remember that so he didn’t freak the little guy out any more than he already was.
One of the little legs kicked at his hand. The tiniest boot Jacob had ever seen planted on one of his knuckles and pushed with all its might. He didn’t actually feel any force from it, though it was clear the tiny person was giving it his all. Some pity softened his expression. The poor guy was just so small. Jacob moved his hand away.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” he said, in a quieter voice than before. Hopefully it would offer some comfort to the little guy, even if he didn’t understand the words; it was still tough to tell if he could.
Jacob could feel the panicked breaths speeding in and out of the small chest pinned by his thumb. The little guy was practically hyperventilating there. And he was pushing against Jacob’s thumb for all he was worth, but again Jacob didn’t actually feel the force behind the little shoves. Still, clearly he wasn’t helping with the poor guy’s breathing, so he’d have to think of something else.
Jacob got an idea and latched onto it. He shifted his hand so it was flatter, and then used his thumb to gently nudge the small person so he was propped up against Jacob’s curled fingers like a seat. That done, he moved his thumb so it rested on the tiny shins instead, hopefully preventing any panicked flailing without constricting the little guy’s breathing.
“There, isn’t that- fuckdammit! ”
Brothers Apart 