A whole batch of cute dorks! That’s what these AUs are, really.

And really, though Jacob is often a bit of a giant terror when he first meets smol people, he ends up becoming quite the cinnamon roll himself. He’s a teddy, I swear (And the other characters usually vouch for that)!

Oscar, of course, is a cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure, etc etc. Just imagine that timid little guy, all 3.25 inches of him, encountering Jacob at his fully grown 6′5″ height. He would be so so timid and nervous while Jacob would probably be accidentally scary before becoming the gentlest giant around.

Pinky Promise (2/4)

neonthewrite:

This story is for the contest going on over at @brothersapart​. Fans of gt and/or supernatural should give that blog a look, because there’s some quality writing of both over there. The contest has already attracted some really awesome entries, too! I’m adding mine into the fray.

The story is a slight AU of the Brothers Apart series. It takes place the night before Sam is cursed and shrunk by the witch.


He didn’t have time to go for the razor in his jacket before the hand was upon him. Walt felt the fingers coil partway around him and then hesitate. He looked away from them to see that the boy’s eyes were turning towards him as he leaned over the side of the bed.

When he caught sight of Walt, something he probably had not expected to grab when he went absently for his dropped pen, a quiet gasp sounded up above. The pair was frozen for a second, staring at each other in surprise as a cartoon’s theme song started up on the forgotten TV.

Then, the fingers closed all the way around Walt’s struggling form and he found himself soaring into the air, lying on his back on a net of fingers with his arms pinned to his side. There was a whirl of motion as the boy lifted him up in front of his face, and then looked right past Walt at his sleeping brother. Before Walt could read the expression on the young boy’s face, he rolled over with Walt still in hand and almost dove off the other side of the bed. Walt hunched over in the kid’s secure grip and tried not to be sick.

He only opened his eyes again when he was sure the motion had stopped. The boy had huddled himself on the floor, placing his bed between himself and his sleeping brother to hide what he’d found. Walt was almost grateful for the consideration, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Big, curious hazel eyes peered down at him, very nearly hidden by messy brown bangs that hung over his forehead. The kid’s lips were parted slightly in awe and he looked over Walt’s few inches curiously, while Walt continued to squirm and try to at least free one of his arms.

“My name’s Sam,” the boy introduced himself. “What’s yours? What are you?” Sam’s hazel eyes were wide and hopeful as he stared at Walt, but no answer came. Walt was too busy trying to squirm free to waste time on idle conversation with a huge kid that had captured him and could keep him if he wanted to.

That quickly changed when Sam’s other hand appeared, and his index finger extended and brushed at the side of Walt’s face, making him flinch back and try to lean away from the curious contact like he’d been burned. “Don’t do that! Put me down now!

Sam froze, and blinked at Walt, before peeking over the edge of the bed as if Walt’s outburst might have woken his brother up. Then the boy huddled down even further, staring at Walt. “I-I’m sorry, did I hurtcha? I didn’t mean to!” Sam whispered.

Pinky Promise (1/4)

neonthewrite:

This story is for the contest going on over at @brothersapart. Fans of gt and/or supernatural should give that blog a look, because there’s some quality writing of both over there. The contest has already attracted some really awesome entries, too! I’m adding mine into the fray.

The story is a slight AU of the Brothers Apart series. It takes place the night before Sam is cursed and shrunk by the witch.


Walt didn’t like it, but he hadn’t been left with much of a choice. The supply of crackers and dried meat from the last rat he’d managed to dispatch was running low, and the motel was in a slow season. No, Walt didn’t like it one bit.

It meant he had to venture into occupied rooms. He had to pray that no one saw him or came back while he was out somewhere vulnerable.

It only took one set of eyes spotting him and it could all be over. Walt had far too much experience with that simple truth. He’d spent days in a cage before, waiting for his enormous captor to return and either do away with him or sell him like an object, a pet. Leaving Mallory all alone. Walt was lucky he’d survived that.

That hadn’t hardened his heart the most against humans. Walt had been fortunate to meet one good human then. He was not so lucky when it was his daughter, his sweet baby girl, behind bars. Bars that Walt couldn’t budge no matter how much he wanted to.

Humans took Bree away from him, and all he’d ever been able to do was tell her it’d be okay and watch as they left with her in a cage, helpless.

Now, it was just him and Mallory. He preferred to keep his petite little wife out of danger as much as he could, and worked hard to bring home enough when he went out. He couldn’t lose her, too.

He shifted his feet as he waited. His hiding place under the bed wasn’t ideal, but the two kids staying in the room had dropped plenty of crumbs. He was desperate, and confident in his patience. The food in his leather satchel would be reward enough as soon as he had a clear shot at the entrance hidden behind the other bed.

There were two humans in the room with him, a fact that could set his heart pounding by itself. To top it off, they were kids. The older one was in his mid teens at the most. The slow rhythm of breathing was barely audible over the TV he’d left on, but Walt could tell he was asleep.

If it was just him, Walt would have made his exit already. A creak from the mattress overhead rang ominously in his ears as the younger boy shifted and squirmed into a more comfortable position on the bed. The scratching of a pen on the motel room’s notepad resumed as the boy continued his drawing, blissfully unaware of anything around him.

The TV announced a show to be starting soon, something about a hedgehog. Walt heard the quiet “Oooh!” from the kid above him, and found himself hoping that whatever it was might lull the younger kid to sleep as well. Then he could finally head home and put the stress of hiding in an occupied room behind him.

The boy shifted and the mattress creaked some more, and Walt watched the shadow out on the floor move. It looked like the kid was angling himself towards the TV more, and Walt edged forward carefully, thinking he could confirm the theory.

Just as he looked up, piercing blue eyes peering past the edge of the bed, he saw the pen plummeting downwards after being knocked to the edge by the boy’s movement. Walt gasped in surprised and stumbled to the side, barely avoiding the pen crashing down on top of him directly. Even so, it tilted and knocked into him anyway as he stumbled, leaving them both on the floor in a heap.

Heart pounding, Walt hastily shoved the pen away from him and looked up in time for a hand to fill his vision.

Prompts

neonthewrite:

Hello!

I just wanted to make an actual announcement post to point out that prompts are open on this blog. I always love new ideas and I figured, why not let my followers know I’m accepting theirs?

Keep in mind that I can’t do them immediately and they will likely be done as inspiration strikes for them. They could be anywhere from a 500 word drabble or a multi-part short story!

What I will write:

  • Shorts that have to do with my existing stories (including noncanon and AU)
  • New premise ideas that you may decide to toss my way
  • Writing challenges
  • Fluff. Angst. Either is fine by me.
  • GT, for those of you who love some fun size shenanigans

What I will not write:

  • NSFW subject matter (porn, excessive gore)
  • Things with characters that are not mine. Fanfiction is a medium that I have a lot of difficulty with personally, and while I certainly enjoy some here and there, I always do better (and write faster) with my own characters.
  • Things pushed at me from insistent askers; I have been harassed to complete a story before and the result was me chopping the story off before it was really done. If you pester me your prompt is going to get deleted no matter how promising it was.

Alright, you know the rules:

Prompt away!

For anyone that enjoyed the Human Music prompt from @neonthewrite, prompts are open! Feel free to prompt scenes from Jacob and Bowman or any others of her varied cast.

neonthewrite:

Oh, I love this prompt! It’s adorable and it is something I’ve mused about here and there but not nearly enough.

To answer the question, no, Jacob doesn’t play any instruments. He’s definitely more of a sporty guy, and he is on his high school’s boxing team. The guy’s definitely not one to tussle with. Though now that you mention it, I could see him toting around one of those huge sousaphones. XD

Note: Long-ish post. A little over 1000 words of drabble.


Human Music

Canon: Yes

Taking place the spring after the events of Bowman of Wellwood


The calm afternoon brought a feeling of peace that Jacob rarely experienced back home. It wasn’t that home was stressful or hectic. But out in the woods, with the sun shining on the clearing and the leaves rustling in the breeze, Jacob knew an entirely different sort of serenity.

For the most part. A shifting around on his head reminded him that normally, someone might be scolding his ear right off right now. He was careful not to tilt his head while he read the book in his lap. It could make Bowman fall off, and then he’d have to take out the earbuds connected to his iPod to hear him gripe.

The wood sprite was stretched out on his hair, basking in the warm sunlight that shone down on them. Wide, leafy green wings spread out and draped partially over the side of Jacob’s head, and the sensation nearly tickled him. Not enough to complain, but enough to know his tiny, four inch tall friend was there.

Many of his visits ended up like this. He would come out to the forest to see Bowman, and they’d mill around in the woods for a time. Bowman would tell Jacob about goings-on in the village, and Jacob would explain some new human thing to Bowman. There was never an end to the questions Bowman threw his way.

Unless, of course, he decided to catch some sunlight and some Z’s while lounging on Jacob’s head.

Jacob didn’t mind these moments of quiet. He’d visited several times since the previous Summer and had become good friends with Bowman, despite all the griping and scolding. Theirs was an interesting friendship, one that had seen Bowman bop Jacob right on the forehead more than once. His reasons were many, and Jacob stopped trying to find a pattern long ago.

One pattern he knew for sure he could count on, though, was that Bowman’s stirring on his head meant that soon more questions would likely spring forth. Bowman was stretching his little arms and legs, and even his wings twitched and fluttered, signaling his battle with the sleepy, trance-like state that sunning always put him in.

Jacob found a stopping point and closed his book before pulling his earbuds out one at a time and reaching for his hoodie pocket to shut off the music player.

“Waitasecond,” Bowman interrupted. Jacob turned his eyes upwards, but didn’t move his head. Of course, he still couldn’t see the sprite sitting up there, but he was paying as much attention as he could, all things considered.

“What? I didn’t move,” Jacob said, a smile leaking onto his face despite the indignant protest.

“No, giant, you’re always moving, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Bowman scooted forward. Jacob could feel him army-crawling closer to his forehead and waited.

Sure enough, a leafy green wing reached into view, the outermost finger pointing vaguely towards the earbuds in Jacob’s hand. “What’re those things? Why do you stick them in your ears? Are they just supposed to block things out so you can concentrate?”

The curiosity had returned. Jacob smiled and drew out his iPod, pausing the music, and held it up to show Bowman. “I listen to music with them. They’re connected to this thing, and it sends the music to these earbuds here, and they play music.”

Bowman scoffed. “How does that thing play music? It doesn’t even look like it’d make a good drum!”

Jacob had to chuckle, which of course caused his head to shake. Bowman grumbled one of his choice sprite swears and pushed himself to a stand before fluttering off of Jacob’s head. He landed on the hand that held the iPod, and Jacob angled it so that he wouldn’t throw the little guy off balance.

“You’re telling me that this thing plays music,” Bowman said skeptically. The older model iPod was almost as tall as he was, and much wider. It was definitely heavier. “No way.”

Jacob smirked. “It’s not an instrument itself. It just stores the music as a recording. You remember when I explained recordings to you, right?” Bowman paused, then nodded. “So this thing is just full of recordings of music. I like to listen while I read.”

Bowman paused to take it all in before nodding and deciding that it was acceptable. His wings twitched and he looked back at the music player curiously. “Lemme hear some of your human music!” he demanded, an almost excited curiosity overtaking his expression. He twisted around to look at Jacob eagerly.

Jacob grinned. Bowman’s reaction to the music should be entertaining. “Alright. Just hold these,” he replied, placing the earbuds in Bowman’s arms.

It was a show all on its own to watch Bowman fumble them before tentatively holding them up to his ears. He frowned skeptically. “I don’t hear anything!”

“I haven’t started anything, you dork,” Jacob shot back, reaching past Bowman with his thumb to press Play on the iPod.

Bowman jolted as the brass instruments of a ska band blared out of the earbuds, and his eyes were wide as he listened. Jacob didn’t have the volume up high enough to hear it himself, but he could follow along well enough just knowing what song was playing. Bowman’s bright green eyes were wide and his wings flexed open and closed ceaselessly.

“How do they make those noises?! Why is he singing so fast? I can’t understand … this music makes no sense at all!” Bowman’s assessment made Jacob chuckle and he paused the music. Bowman sighed.

“Maybe I have something a bit more chill,” Jacob suggested. He got an exasperated look from Bowman, but noticed that the sprite hadn’t put down the earbuds yet, so he must be curious. He scrolled through his song list for a soft rock song instead.

This one seemed to go over much better with Bowman. Instead of getting agitated almost immediately, he looked confused, no doubt trying to identify the sounds of a guitar while he listened. He swayed a little in time with the song before glancing up at Jacob.

“All the words humans put to their music are so stupid. But otherwise it sounds interesting,” he determined. Jacob paused the song, increasingly amused by the way Bowman yelled his opinions to be heard over the music blaring in his little ears.

“Glad you approve,” Jacob answered wryly.

“I wanna hear more,” Bowman blurted, staring expectantly up at Jacob. That wide eyed curiosity was free of his usual snark, and Jacob only saw a will to learn more despite the complaints. He couldn’t say no to that.

“Okay, lemme see if I have something orchestral, we’ll see what you think of that…”

When the Cowriter Drinks

So, sometimes I (@neonthewrite) end up with an empty document in front of me after I’ve been drinking. All in fun, I let myself write what comes to mind. Last time this happened, I ended up musing briefly on Brothers Apart.


The title of this document is: Bees are Sensitive Souls

“Musing: Sam and bumblebee

Pet it, it is soft

Hug it, it is squishy

What is even the deal with the bees

They shouldn’t even be able to fly???

But they do, they just thrwo physics the fuck right out

ANd they fly

Inspirational bees

So imagine Sammy just chillin’ with a bee like they’re both smol and they defy what convention says they should be able to do. It already sound stupid a little but the image is still cute in my headspace don’t judge” [Note: @nightmares06 judged]


Let’s just say it’s a good thing I don’t do my editing while this shwasted.

Jacob wasn’t quite as young as poor Sam was when he shrank. He was 14 years old and already on his way to being tall, even if he wasn’t quite as tall as the then-20-year-old Sam that found him. Sam decided to take care of the kid right away, even giving up his dollhouse bed without even being asked. He knew how much it helped him with coming to terms with his new size, and he wanted to help Jacob with that, too (I know, they’re all such sweeties and really it’s deadly cute). At the time of Brothers Adopted, it’s been 3 years since Jacob was cursed.

For a reference, here’s about what Jacob looked like back then (only with brown eyes):

image

No worries, I don’t think we draw too much attention to that timeline so it’d be easy to miss. It’s been a little over a year since the events of Bowman of Wellwood, by Bowman’s reckoning. He doesn’t keep a calendar, so he couldn’t tell you exact dates. 😉 Bowman is 19 years old in A Lich of Sense. Makes you wonder how Dean would react, knowing how young the little guy actually is, doesn’t it?

Brothers Asunder is brand new, and we came up with it on this Wednesday 😉 Soon we’ll have a sneak peek for it, and you’ll all see what’s in store in the new AU! We dreamed it up when we got in a prompt for a story, and as it turns out, we’ve got a ton ideas for it! Currently we’re working on Brothers Lost, so we just haven’t gotten around to drabbling out the spoiler for the series.

image

Dean, where are you?