Bowman and Jacob, Mischief Managed (from a much older prompt list that I am far too lazy to go dig up)
Bowman flitted to and fro while Jacob walked along the forest floor, his heavy steps crushing twigs and leaves beneath his boots. The pair made an odd sight navigating the woods. Where one was only four inches tall and glided on wings mimicking the leaves all around them, the other stood over six feet tall and sported a worn out hoodie.
They were as different as they could be, but they’d managed to build an easy friendship over Jacob’s visits to the forest. Bowman, despite all of his complaints about human nonsense, never stopped coming up with more questions.
Up ahead, Bowman saw something glinting in the sun and grinned. He had an idea.
He drifted downward to fly in a circle around Jacob’s head. The human stopped to avoid bumping into him and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, Bowman?” he said, a smirk growing on his face. “You have my attention.”
Bowman hovered at Jacob’s eye level and pointed toward a pine tree with long, spindly branches and golden drops of sap glistening upon them. The sun filtering down through the leaves above cast light over the sap so that it almost glowed invitingly. “There’s some pine sap over there. You should try some!”
Jacob frowned critically. “Isn’t that, like, super bitter?” he asked. Even so, he resumed walking when Bowman led the way towards the tree.
Bowman scoffed. “It’s delicious,” he countered. “Figures you humans would know more about phone things than what’s good to eat.”
Jacob snickered as Bowman came to a landing on one of the branches. Where Bowman could deftly find a place to stand, Jacob had to stoop slightly to avoid being poked by the sharp green needles of the tree. He peered skeptically at a large glob of sap sitting on the branch.
Bowman rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a sprout about it,” he complained. “See?” he stooped to grab a flake of bark to scoop some of the sap up. With relish, he ate the sticky amber sap and gestured with a wing for Jacob to try it.
Jacob sighed and it ruffled Bowman’s hair, but then he shrugged. “I guess. You’ll know better than any wilderness guidebooks,” he reasoned aloud. He took a smear of the sap on his fingertip.
Any second now.
The minute Jacob tasted the sap, his face morphed into one of complete disgust. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he lamented, his mouth turned downward in a tight frown. The overwhelming bitter flavor, a favorite of Bowman’s, was stronger than he ever could have expected.
Bowman cackled. “Oh, Spirit, I can’t believe that worked.”
“Oh my God,” Jacob rolled his eyes, still with a note of disgust in his voice. The taste of the sap would linger with him for hours. “You’re such an ass.”
Bowman fluttered up from the branch. “And you’re such a giant. Congratulations, Jacob. You’ve been had by someone the size of your finger.” He held up his hand with his index finger extended for emphasis.
Jacob mimicked the motion, but before Bowman knew what he was up to, he poked at Bowman’s chest in midair. Bowman faltered and glared, and Jacob smirked. “I’ll put you in my pocket,” he warned.
Bowman narrowed his eyes. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Definitely Fairy Tales canon. Definitely only happened once. Jacob learns quickly that Bowman is a stinker, and here you see he definitely employed the right technique. Just poke him.
Break my heart into pieces, why don’t ya (Don’t worry, I will just do that to myself). This prompt is a continuation of this other one. The AU is still unnamed and not planned out really. It’s just sad how dare.
Oscar never did adjust to the darkness inside the ice bucket. No light leaked in past the lid, giving him nothing. Even inside the walls, some light made it in. He was adapted to make use of it like no human ever could, but now even he was blinded.
He was curled into a tight ball, covering his ears to block the sounds from outside. An engine rumbled and a radio blared. Oscar’s own heart pounded. No matter what, he couldn’t protect himself from that noise out there. It was unfamiliar from so close.
Everything was a reminder that he’d been taken away from his home.
Life in the Knight’s Inn motel wasn’t easy. Oscar had to fight for survival almost every day. When he wasn’t critically low on food, the draft was enough to chill his tiny bones. From waking up to burrowing into his nest of blankets to sleep, Oscar worked hard. He spent his time collecting supplies, or sitting in his ringbox chair to weave and sew.
It was all gone now. Now he was at the mercy of a human and no help was coming.
His cheeks were dry and scratchy from the many tears that had already leaked from his eyes. He had his eyes shut tight to hold back more, but they escaped in spite of his efforts. Oscar sobbed in time with his breathing and tried to think of a silver lining. Something about his situation had to have a good side.
He couldn’t think of one.
Bumps in the road jostled him, but Oscar always found his way back into his desperate curl. It was all he could think to do to protect himself, though he knew it made him a coward. He could be trying to find a way out, but in his heart he knew there was none. It comforted him more to huddle into himself and hide in his own thoughts.
Thus he traveled for hours, leaving his home far behind. Farther than he’d ever be able to travel on his own, all while stuck in the dark confines of a stolen ice bucket. He doubted the human cared, if he was willing to steal an entire person, too, three and a quarter inches tall or not.
At length, the movement came to an end, along with the loud sounds of the engine and the radio. Oscar’s ears rang with the sudden absence, but then he choked on a yelp as the bucket moved. His captor grabbed it up and soon enough, the sound of the car was replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps.
He curled up more fervently, making himself as tiny as he could. His body quivered from the strain and the fear, and his stomach quailed. He was fortunate that he hadn’t yet eaten that day, or he might have been sick already.
The steps carried him through a new door, and when it slammed behind the human, Oscar could feel the vibration in his whole body. He winced, and then flinched again as the human shouted across the house he’d arrived in.
“Nori! Where are ya?” he called.
Another voice answered from somewhere, and the steps resumed. Oscar logged away the hollow sound of the steps. Hardwood floors, with plenty of space beneath them. Floorboards made a great hiding place for people like him, since humans had difficulty getting to them without destroying their home.
“What is it?” the other voice said, closer this time. A woman, from the sound of things.
Oscar squeaked when his prison slammed down onto a surface. His captor answered, sounding prouder than ever. “Check out what I found for us, Noriko.”
Oscar received no further warning before the lid above him lifted away at last with a scraping of plastic. Light burst in and he shut his eyes tight against the sudden onslaught. He flinched away from the face looming overhead, curtained by sheets of straight black hair.
Noriko moved even faster than her companion. Before Oscar could register that her hand was in his field of vision, slender fingers had wrapped around him. She yanked him out of the bucket and shoved the plastic container away absently.
Oscar found himself trapped in a fist before a pair of dark eyes that pierced right through him. Noriko looked interested, but as she looked him over, a frown appeared on her lips. Her grip on Oscar shifted and he suddenly found himself with a thumb against his stomach and two fingers against his back.
Once again, he was lucky he didn’t have anything in his stomach to make him sick. He planted his hands against her thumb and winced, curling up with the pain of her careless grip.
“He’s really skinny,” she pointed out critically, glancing past him at the man standing across the table. “You’ll have to make sure to fatten him up at least a little or she’ll think we sold her a sick one again.”
“I will, Nori, it’s not like she can show up instantly anyway, we’ll get him ready. This one’s exactly the kind she wants,” he replied. Oscar looked between the two of them, confused and wishing he had the bravery to ask who ‘she’ was.
Noriko smiled, a girlish expression that had no place on such a frightening face. Oscar’s breathing raced and he closed his eyes when she focused on him again. That gaze instilled in him a sense that he was little more than a fun new possession to her.
“He is a cutie,” she pointed out. A fingertip forced its way under his chin and tilted his head back. Oscar opened his eyes wide and gasped with pain. “Almost a shame to let him go, he’d look so cute in a little dollhouse.”
“Nori,” the man chided. “With the money from this one, we can get you a dozen cute dolls that you don’t even have to look after when you don’t want to.”
Noriko smiled again and lowered her hand. Oscar was released to the table in front of her with a surprised huff as he landed. The hand settled next to him, fingertips drumming the surface absently while she answered. “I guess you’re right,” she sighed.
Oscar pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaky and sore. He had his head tilted back to watch the humans, who weren’t looking at him for the moment. The man smiled excitedly at Noriko and grabbed the ice bucket from the table. “So, how’d I do?” he asked.
She tilted her head and pouted her lips coyly. Oscar sidled away from her hand, only for that dark gaze to slide down to him. Noriko’s hand casually swept him up again and he squeaked and squirmed in her grip. She ignored his efforts and didn’t release him no matter how he tried to wriggle free. A thumb pressed against his cheek teasingly. “He’s darling. I’ll have to measure him for a new outfit later. You did good, honey.”
Oscar shuddered and more tears raced down his cheeks. The human lifted him up and he sucked in a gasp, and then her grip opened up. His yelp of fear cut off as he landed back on the man’s palm. “Now go put him away for now, you got back in time for our show.”
Oscar covered his head with his hands as the fingers arced overhead until they closed in a fist around him. A voice, so disinterested in him and his fear, rumbled all around. “Be right back.”
Timeline: During A Lich of Sense, after Dean’s arm is bitten and they are on their way to Wellwood.
“But why wings? ”
Sam blinked, having started to drift off during their trip through the forest. He didn’t exactly have much he could do, between Bowman guiding Dean towards his village and Dean doing the actual walking. On the opposite shoulder, Bowman frowned critically and eyed Dean’s profile. His attention had been on guiding the human back, but now he was more concerned by the sudden outburst.
There hadn’t been much conversation since starting off aside from Bowman’s directions, over on Dean’s other shoulder. Sam had to smirk at that, entertained by the thought of his brother serving as a taxi to people the size of his finger. Dean Winchester, the man monsters had nightmares about, ferrying around the tiniest people around.
The smile soon fled. Dean was growing weaker. Sam couldn’t stop from glancing at his brother’s injured arm, the bloodsoaked sleeve of his jacket a poignant reminder of just how much damage the wolves had done to him during their fight.
That, and the odd non sequiturs Dean kept blurting out.
“Wings, Dean?” Sam asked, curious despite himself.
“Yes, wings,” Dean pronounced, gesturing wildly with his good arm. Luckily, the arm that was attached to the shoulder Sam was perched on, and he was prepared for the movement. Bowman, who wasn’t prepared, nearly fluttered off of his perch to avoid the erratic movement, but before he could complain, Dean went right on with his rant.
“Everyone we meet these days has wings! We’ve got small fry over here, but then you remember Nixie? And Ilyana? Wings. Nixie couldn’t even function without hers! It’s like having you with me automatically attracts the first people with wings in the state right to us!” On his shoulder, Bowman lifted a wing to peer at it with an eyebrow raised, wondering why exactly it mattered.
Sam rubbed his face. “Y’know, I don’t think Bowman wanted to run into us…” he pointed out, wondering what had brought this on.
“Spirit’s truth,” muttered out from the perplexed sprite sitting opposite him.
“He’s here, ain’t he?” Dean asked knowingly. “I’m shocked you didn’t end up with wings. That’s just what I’d need. A pint-sized brother fluttering around my head. You know what happens if you have a Dean with wings?”
The silence drew out until Sam realized he was supposed to respond. “What? What happens if we’ve got a Dean with wings?”
“Nothing good!”
With that, Dean nodded sharply to himself, and resumed his previous trek through the forest.
Sam’s head was on a swivel as he stepped towards the keys, taking it all in. He’d seen laptops operated before, but this was his first chance to see it all from up close. The screen loomed overhead, a search engine ready and waiting for him as he committed it all to memory. The powerful whirr of the hard drive came from underneath his boots, and Sam could swear his feet felt warmer than the rest of him.
Dropping his satchel down at the edge of the keyboard, Sam pulled out a blank sheet of paper and his pencil tip, just in case he needed to remember anything. He stuffed them both in his jacket pocket, pacing over to the trackpad. He knelt down, swiping his entire hand over the flat surface and was pleasantly surprised to see the mouse react to his touch the same way as it did for John or Sherlock’s fingers. It took him more work, but a few swipes moved the cursor over the entire screen, Sam slowly getting used to using it.
He clicked the search bar, then paused, realizing he had no idea what to search for first.
“I’ve always been curious about computers…” Sam said, always truthful with John. “If I’m not interrupting. I watched you work on it a few times during the last year, but I could never see what you were doing.” His eyes drifted to the yellow smiley face across the room from their seats. It was distant enough from John’s armchair to make it hard to read the laptop.
“Not interrupting me at all,” John assured. “I’m just finishing up, but… well here, have a look.”
The doctor shifted his weight to lean a little more toward the bookshelf, rotating his computer so that he and Sam could both have a good view of it.
There’s a good smattering of SPN size!fic out there on the interwebs, but it took me a long while to find the good stuff. All of this is SFW (aside from warnings listed) and definitely worth your while. There’s fics of all shapes and sizes (heh), so hopefully you find one that interests you. And I swear I tried so hard to find more tiny!Dean and tiny!Cas fics, but I’m afraid they are unicorns in the SFW side of fic anyway.
Summary: Sam was hit with a witch’s curse when he was 10 and Dean was 14. Unable to find him or his attacker anywhere when the dust settled, John and Dean Winchester were eventually forced to give him up for dead. Unbeknownst to them, Sam was saved from the witch and adopted into a new family, and they’ve trained him to take care of himself as best he can in the world, and protected him from the witch’s gaze all these years. And now…
Warnings: language
Word Count: 34,779
Sky’s Notes: Brothers Apart and its related works are not so much a series as they are a lifestyle. Borrower!Sam’s story is but the gateway drug into a beautiful interconnected series of AUs. The focus is always on the brothers’ relationship, and it is usually fairly canon-compliant aside from the obvious. And it’s ongoing! There are new stories and updates all the time. It’s feelsy, and snarky, and creative, and I am in love with it.
Summary:On a case out in California, troubles afoot when Sam falls asleep in the Impala and Dean comes out to find his Baby – and his baby brother – a little… different.
Warnings: language
Word Count: 58,621
Sky’s Notes: This is one of those fics I keep coming back to read. The size interaction is on point, walking that thin line between careful!guilty!big!Dean and careless!teasing!big!Dean. There are some priceless moments (think Dean cuddling the tiny!Impala in his sleep. Yes. That happens.) as well as some genuinely scary parts. It twists and turns and goes everywhere you don’t expect. It’s probably my favorite fic of all time.
Summary: Dean slays a monster, only to become pretty monstrous himself. But Dean’s not about to let a little — okay, very big — size issue stop him from kicking ass and taking names.
Warnings: hurt/comfort imagery, language
Word Count: 145,714
Sky’s Notes: If you ever had a craving for big!Dean, look no further. This is everything you ever wanted, believe me. Humorous, angsty, a good dose of hurt/comfort, and an epic final battle all feature prominently. Dean is determined to silently push through the pain (both physical and emotional), and Sam is confused and concerned. Oh, and don’t forget all the snark. There’s lots of that. Set in Season 4, and as such has the obligatory inclusion of both Bobby and Castiel.
Summary:Sequel to Deanzilla! On top of demons, angels and even Sam, Dean must also struggle with his new giant powers. To add insult to injury, the key to controlling them is an affront to his no-chick-flick-moments male pride.
Warnings: canon-typical violence, language
Word Count: 139,184
Sky’s Notes: This is the sequel to Deanzilla vs Hydros, and is set later in Season 4. There’s even more angst in this one. Like, so much angst. The entire story just builds and builds and builds to a crescendo here, ending with a very satisfactory “Lucifer Rising” AU. (Oh, and pssst there’s some tiny!Dean too!) I won’t spoil any more of the good stuff, just read it already!
Summary:“It was very clear to Sam that he was dreaming. That, or the witch had gone and cast the one spell he really, really wished she hadn’t—namely, the one that shrank people.” When Sam is injured from a witch’s shrinking spell, he learns where he and Castiel really stand. Unrepentant Sam/Cas fluff.
Warnings: canon-typical violence, language
Word Count: 72,918
Sky’s Notes: Sastiel at it’s absolute finest. There’s beautiful, poetic language, romcom worthy situations, sassiness, guilty!Sam, angelic!Cas, a smattering of Dean, all the fluff, a whole heap of angst, a very purple witch, and pumpkin spice lattes. You won’t be disappointed.
Summary:In which the Trickster (Gabriel) takes it upon himself to teach Sam Winchester a lesson. So naturally, he shrinks him down to 6 inches and sends both brothers on a confusing wurst throughout New York City and beyond!
Warnings: mild violence, language
Word Count: 49,832
Sky’s Notes: Pure crack. The boys basically go on a scavenger hunt through New York City and…Candyland? Cas of course gets pulled in somehow, Gabriel is a well-meaning jerk, and Sam isn’t the only one to take a turn as a tiny.
Summary:After the witch and Dorothy incident, it should have been pretty clearly spelled out for everyone: don’t mess with artifacts in the bunker. And for the record, Sam hadn’t messed with anything. It had been an accident. Which, granted, didn’t make his situation any better. But it was the principle of the matter. In which Sam gets shrunk, Dean panics, Castiel handles Winchesters, and Kevin saves the day. (from Part One)
Warnings: canon-typical violence, language
Word Count: 37,452 (full series)
Sky’s Notes: This series reads like an actual series of episodes. There’s cracky fun, a good dose of angst, and enough twists to keep the guesses coming. The plotline is compelling, and while Sam is the focus, each of the characters are given emotional and functional weight. Also, Kevin and Crowley feature!
Summary:The one where Sam gets shrunk, and Dean finds himself cursing at the…at, well, shit.
Warnings: language
Word Count: 7,600
Sky’s Notes: Sam loses his height. Sam loses his shoes. Sam loses his cookies. He also has a gun and he’s not afraid to use it. Dean is torn between laughter and overbearing concern. Snark, awkwardness, schmoop, and everything in between — it hits all the highlights, folks. Bonus points for a Bobby cameo.
Summary:While getting to know each other again as brothers and partners, Sam and Dean run into a rather small problem. Set season one.
Warnings: language
Word Count: 37,586
Sky’s Notes: This is a romp of epic (minuscule?) proportions, featuring a slowshrinking!Sam. Between Sam’s predicament, Dean’s coping, a pair of grudgingly likeable OCs, and lots and lots of snark, this casefic has pretty much everything going for it. Oh, and Bobby is involved!
Summary:Sam and Dean are on a regular salt and burn to find a missing girl when they discover a haunted dollhouse – and Sam’s about to become one of the dolls!
Warnings: language
Word Count: 7,792
Sky’s Notes: A casefic, short and sweet and fun. Mostly Sam-centric, but Dean has some moments too. Very in-character and keeps the SPN spirit. It could be a legitimate episode. It’s not like we haven’t had some seriously cracky episodes before.
Summary:While searching the Men of Letters base, Dean finds a strange little statue. He shouldn’t have picked it up. Now he’s tiny, for three days! What’s a hunter to do when he can’t do anything?
Warnings: language
Word Count: 54,144
Sky’s Notes: Finally some Tiny!Dean! SO MUCH FLUFF. Also antics and general silliness, because this is Dean we’re talking about. There be pockets, pie, concerned!Sam, the obligatory brotherly bonding, movie nights, all sorts of lovely references to The BFG, and of course a good dose of Destiel.
Summary:“What the hell?” Sam asked as he watched his brother’s hand get bigger and felt his brother’s waist pull away. His hand slid across the fabric of the back of Dean’s navy blue jacket. When Sam went to look to his left into his brother’s face, he was shocked to see Dean’s chest instead lit up with the lights from the Impala. Was Dean standing? Sam looked down and saw his brother’s legs still folded on the ground. “Holy crap. You’re growing.”
Warnings: mild language
Word Count: 5,217
Sky’s Notes: Dean is big, and as determined as ever to suffer silently. Sam obviously isn’t about to let him. Come prepared for the usual playfulness and a good ol’ brotherly click flick moment discussion.
I’ve left out many, many good fics, I’m sure, so if you have a suggestion for the list, point me in the right direction and I’ll go check it out! I’ve also tried to link the authors who have tumblrs, at least that I’m aware of. If you’re an author featured on this list — HI I LOVE YOU I’M SUCH A BIG FAN OMG. If you want your tumblr to be linked (or unlinked), let me know!
Kara stared up into her dad’s big grey eyes, a match for her own. Where hers were bright and hopeful, his were worn and older, creases in his skin formed from the hard times they’d survived in the motel. Hard times that had taken away her mother, his loving wife.
Nodding, she didn’t say a word as he turned and darted away. Of course she trusted him. She would always trust him. Her daddy had taken care of her ever since she could remember. Thin and underfed, Christian put his daughter before himself in all things. If there wasn’t enough food to feed them both, he would fast to let her eat.
Still, she was underfed and needed more food to survive. The scarcity of food in this motel showed in the ribs he could see clear through her skin. Too thin. If he couldn’t find more for her to eat, she’d waste away to nothing.
He’d only just reached the table when the door of the motel room swung open with an ominous creak. Christian froze, and chose to dive behind the leg of a chair before the human spotted him.
It wasn’t check-in time yet, why were they here?
He had his answer seconds later, when a hand descended around him. He struggled. “No!”
One hand reached out, grasping at the air where he knew Kara was waiting for him as the fingers shut tight, trapping him.
“Looks like we’ve got another to show Mina.”
“Hopefully this time she wants to bargain. We can’t wait much longer before the cash runs out.”
“Whatever, dear. She’ll come, the moment we call her. She always does.”
Christian didn’t have time to puzzle these strange words before under him, a gaping black purse opened up and he found himself tumbling inside. He landed with a thud on his side, groaning as he kicked a strange black cylinder, almost as long as he was, away.
Darkness fell over him, but his eyes could make out the shadowed interior without a problem. Huge items were scattered about, human possessions that he didn’t care to understand.
All he cared about was two very worried grey eyes he could see in his mind’s eye, looking up at him with all the trust in the world.
It was unusual for Oscar to care about how much he overslept. His routine for his entire life had been to sleep when he was tired, and after helping Sam and Dean Winchester hunt down a demon, he’d gone to bed exhausted. The day before ran together in a long chain of scary events, many of which he’d witnessed from inside a pocket.
Oscar hadn’t yet had time to come to terms with everything, and he was already in the vents, wandering back toward that room. Back to the odd pair of brothers he’d befriended despite how crazy they could be.
If his memories were to be believed, their insanity had rubbed off on him.
In spite of himself, he was glad to hear a familiar gruff voice filtering into the air ducts. They were still there, even though he’d slept into the morning. He found that he wouldn’t even mind if breakfast was gone already. He could at least see them off before they left.
I got cling a couple times for Oscar, one by himself and another with another character that I will work on next. For now, have a cute little story that’s pretty much canon for Food and Monsters Oscar as well as Brothers Together Oscar and any au where he grows up in the Knight’s Inn motel.
Reading time: ~5 minutes
Oscar rarely had to improvise his hiding places like this. Normally, he made sure he took as few risks as he could, to avoid situations where he needed to. He trusted certain hiding places in the room every time: under the dresser, behind the nightstand, and, in a pinch, under a bed.
Just inside the cuff of a discarded sweater on the floor? He hated it.
His heart pounded as the floor shook. The human that stumbled around, occasionally grumbling with a headache, had come in the night before very drunk, and now he was paying for it. Oscar didn’t know what it felt like to be drunk or hungover, but from what he’d seen of the kinds of people that stayed in his motel, he wasn’t interested in finding out.
Usually they stayed asleep for much longer. Oscar had crept into the room in the dark well after the human flopped onto their bed, hoping to capitalize on the food spilled on the floor when they came in. They had never noticed that their takeout box didn’t land on the table when they put it down.
Of course, he couldn’t predict that they’d lurch off of the bed towards the bathroom. Oscar was lucky that the sweater was there while he stuffed his bag full of vegetables and pieces torn from a piece of soft bread.
He had to wait it out while the human figured out what they wanted to do, all from within the thick sleeve of the knit sweater. He counted their steps in the earthquakes and sighed. At least they weren’t cognizant enough to turn on the lights. He was out of sight.
The human knocked something over in the bathroom while they were in there. Oscar sighed heavily. Shampoo bottles, maybe an away kit or something like it, clattered to the floor. Then, following that, the ground shook all the way out into the motel room as the human dropped down to their knees to scrabble at the fallen items. In the dark.
This was an easier one. Oscar shimmied back out from his hiding place, peeking out across the floor just to be sure. He could see in the dark better than any drunk human could with the lights on.
With a huff, Oscar pulled himself the rest of the way out of the sleeve. He was glad no one had seen his startled dive.
Tufts of green fuzz from the sweater stuck to him. Oscar brushed them off and jogged towards the dresser. The human was muttering to themselves about how tough it was to find things in the dark. So far, they hadn’t thought to turn the light on and help their search along. Oscar let himself smile as he ducked out of sight and approached his wallpaper entrance to get into the walls.
He was halfway home before he noticed it. A tuft of green fuzz, the size of his head, clung to his shoulder. The static kept it there, but it was so light that he hadn’t noticed it. Oscar frowned and reached over to grab it. The static cling changed to his hand instead.
“Hey,” he muttered, shaking his hand vigorously. The fuzz moved to the back of his hand instead, resolutely sticking to him. Oscar huffed and stared at it as though it were a mischievous mouse pup. “Getoff.”
He grabbed the thing in his other hand and held it out in front of him, as far as his little arms could reach. When he let it go, it drifted downwards, but only for a second before veering back towards him. Oscar was startled, and he fell backwards in the dust.
The fuzz clung to his chest now.
Oscar pushed himself back up with a frown, and brushed the dust from his pants. The fuzz still clung to him. Static was powerful for someone so small. Trying to brush the thing down to the ground only got it stuck to his hand again, and shaking it off sent it drifting back to his side.
“You’re trouble,” he accused it in a hushed voice. Then, since it insisted on clinging to him despite all his efforts, Oscar continued on his way home.
Brothers Apart 