#DON'T GIVE HIM THINGS WITH BACON ON IT HE'S A CHILD.

[bunnys-kisses]

jailbird (3)

prisoner!simon "ghost" riley

the series master-list

cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, smut & fluff, dom!reader, sub!simon, gentle sex, size kink, pregnant!reader, wife kink

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

you rubbed your back as you cooked up some breakfast. you then yawned into you fist. it was hard giving up coffee for the sake of your unborn baby, but simon promised that when your son was born, he'd buy you the fanciest coffee at the supermarket.

it had been over a year since simon got out of prison, and now you two were expecting your first child. right now he was the size of an avocado and simon couldn't help but put his hands on the small bump.

"mornin', love." he said as he came up behind you and his hands on the bump. his hair was a mess and his large tattoos hands were on your hips, "bacon for me?"

"it's turkey bacon. less fat." you reminded him.

he grumbled, "not as good." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "how did you sleep." his hands linked under your bump as he held it gently.

you flipped the bacon and focused your attention on the eggs in another pan. you felt a shift of your child in your womb, "it was alright. i think i'm getting used to your snoring."

he kissed you again and grumbled, "i'm sorry."

you chuckled, "I don't mind. either you've gotten quieter or i'm just used to it." you tilted your head up and kissed him on the lips briefly, "if you can get the toast ready that would be great."

"anythin' for ya." he said as he pulled away and went to make some toast for the both of you. it was domestic, it was quiet. a woman and her much larger, tattooed ex-convict of a boyfriend.

-

simon called you his wife often, despite never actually being married. you didn't mind it. you shared a home were building a family, but you often wondered if you would ever get married. you were never keen on a huge celebration, but something would be nice. regardless you were his missus.

regardless of your pregnant size, he handled you with ease. there were times where he'd simply guide your hips as you rode him. he was he one in control. you held onto him and moaned as you felt his cock press up into you.

"beautiful wife." he smirked as he kissed your face.

you wondered if it was possible for to control the pace. to have your boyfriend give up control and let you work his body? while your bdsm together was short lived, he stopped any rough play when you announced you were pregnant, you wondered if the roles could be reversed? the tiny girlfriend in control of her beefy, scary boyfriend.

it was a rather arousing thought. to watch simon squirm while you made sure he was taken care of. it didn't have to be vicious or rough, which would make simon happy (for your sake), but tender and slow. you rubbed your thighs together while seated at your work desk, you had to focus on work! not on your boyfriend's cock inside of you.

you leaned back in your desk chair and rubbed your swollen middle as you gazed at the spreadsheet you had been working on. simon gave you the gift of your first born child, you believed it was time to repay him for it.

-

"simon." you said as you were curled up with him on the couch. simon's head was in your lap and his legs were hanging off the couch. you were running your fingers through his short blond hair.

"yeah, love." he said.

"i want to ask you about something."

he lifted his head and looked at you, he looked at your curiously. for a brief moment he was worried that he had done something wrong. but a closer study of your face revealed that you weren't upset with him, which settled him down. he simply said with a kiss on your bump, "ask away."

"i was wondering, if maybe... i can take charge when we have sex? just for tonight. i know you like being in charge, but i thought it could spice things up with anything too intense."

he said gruffly, "i don't want ya puttin' strain on yourself." as his broad hand rubbed your middle, "worried you'll get tired out."

you reached down and cupped his face, "well, then if i get tired then you can take over... it wouldn't hurt to try." you smiled, "i think it'll be fun."

simon learned very early on that he could never say no to his girl. he simply pressed his cheek back on your bump and rubbed it. he said, "alright, but don't push yourself too hard."

he lingered closely during dinner, his hands on your hips as he watched you make dinner. he was in charge of chopping vegetables, but when he wasn't, his hands were on you. he wanted to be close to his wife.

even though very few thought of him as a gentleman, the way he sat you down on the couch after dinner so he could wash the dishes of your dinner left you feeling pink.

when he came back to you however, he held out his hand. you took it and he helped you up off the couch. he stared down at you for a moment and you reached out for him. you framed his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him.

"i'm fine."

once in the bedroom, he marveled at your body as you started to undress. he shirt was already off as he sat at the edge of the bed, ready to help you if you needed it. but you shooed his hands away. he admired the slope of your pregnant belly and the heaviness of your breasts. you had a figure his admired, a lil pregnancy fat to keep you and the babe warm.

"you're staring."

"can't i?" he asked, "i made you this way. my girl carryin' my kid. i think you look hotter now than before." he smiled.

you gave him a look as you got your underwear off, you stood there in front of him, naked with your hands at your hips. you said, "so you're into milfs?"

he shrugged, "only when i'm the ones who 'em a mama." he reached out for you and you went into his arms. he pressed his face against your bump and sighed, his cock twitched in his pants.

you petted his soft hair and felt him place kisses against your swollen middle. he had taken to being a father the way a fish takes to swimming. after a little worship to your belly, you nudged him at his shoulders.

"lie down."

he looked up at you and laid down. he watched you work as you got his pants and underwear off. his cock stood at full attention and you could already feel the heft of it inside of you. it made your stomach flutter.

there laid your convict boyfriend, the man who was in prison for some time. he was laid out on the bed you shared while you tried to straddle his waist. he made you his girl, and you made him a better man.

"gonna be comfy like that?"

"this is about you, simon." you tapped his nose, "the goal is to make you cum." then trailed your finger down his neck and across his chest that was littered with tattoos.

he held onto your hand and placed it on his cheek, "i know... but i still want you to have a good time, love." he kissed your wrist before he placed both hands on your hips.

"hey!" you smacked his hand away, "my job."

"sorry." he said softly. he was a hardened man, he often scared people. but with you, he was so supportive and loving. he adored you the way plants adored the sun.

he watched you with careful eyes, they felt heated on your warm flesh as you tried to move yourself (with the bump not helping). it took everything in him not to do it himself. but he had to trust you.

you slowly sank on his cock and pressed your chin to your chest as you exhaled deeply. you noticed that simon was holding onto the covers tighter. you said softly, "trust me."

"yes, love." he said softly, he tensed up when you started to roll your hips. you hand one hand on his chest for leverage and the other on your swollen middle as you moved your hips against him.,

"holy shit, love." he groaned.

"see, a wife knows how to please her husband." you replied before you smacked his hands away from you, "no. stay still." there was a bit of a command to your tone.

he liked it.

he continued to hold the sheets as you moved up and down on his length. his breathing got heavy as you started to really put work into riding his cock. he watched your breasts and belly bounce like a hypnotized man.

he made you this way. he never thought when he was in prison that he'd have a woman in his life that was carrying his child. he watched to reach out and worship your bump. but for the time being he'd just have to play the thoughts over in his head.

part of him wondered if he was still a bad man. maybe there should've been more time between when you met in person and your pregnancy. but you were happy. happy with him, of your situation.

he tried to move but you kept him pinned by the shoulders. you were without words as you rode him, all you could do was shake your head. he groaned and leaned back into the bed.

"please, love. let me touch you. i want to touch my wife." he was almost begging.

you pushed hair out of your hair and looked down at him. your hands were on his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. you moaned, "okay... but be good."

quickly his hands were on your hips and he rubbed your love handles. you felt so good under his touch, it made his brain buzz. what the hell did he do to deserve an angel such as yourself.

"like it, simon?"

he nodded, "you're doing great. my girl." his voice was practically a purr.

you continued to ride him. you felt hot all over but you held onto him. you tried to be sexy about your thrusts. but the burn in your soul to get to climax forced you to bounce on his cock.

simon's eyes were transfixed on your body as it moved. his cock ached, as did his balls. he bred you so good, he didn't know what he did in a previous life to deserve this.

warmth pumped through your bodies as you fucked. it felt so good, and the angle made your core ache. it wasn't long before you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut.

you placed his hands and yours on your bump as you moved on his cock. your moans filled the air of your bedroom. your mind became hazy and your thrusts were disorganized. you came first by holding his hands, your cunt clenched around his cock. and as you continued to ride him until he finished as well.

"shit."

"simon."

he laid sprawled out next to you for a moment to catch his breath. by the time he calmed down, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your face. he could feel your bare belly bump up against his abdomen. he felt relaxed against you.

he said quietly, as he assumed that you were dozing off in the after glow of pleasure, "you'll get your ring soon. just gotta find the right time to pop the question." his voice was a low rumble.

but you were still awake and safe in his arms. when he mentioned a ring your heart skipped a beat. you stayed still for a moment and let him bask in your love. soon you'd be his wife, for real.

the question was, where was the ring? <3

[rottenpumpkin13]

I mean if you really think about it. Technically Chadley is kind of Sephiroth's little brother

Anon you are so right. Unfortunately we don't have it it canon, but highlights of their sibling bond would include:

• Sephiroth frequently gifting Chadley toys and other trinkets he himself was deprived of during childhood because he wants to make sure Chadley doesn't go through that. Chadley has more Lego sets and two-person games than he knows what to do with.

• Chadley going to Sephiroth for real world advice and getting trolled in grand older brother fashion.

Chadley: I think I may have romantic feelings for Professor Hojo's new intern.

Sephiroth: How so?

Chadley: Whenever I'm around her, I have heart palpitations, my vision blurs, I become sweaty and my speech is slurred.

Sephiroth: You've just described a stroke.

Chadley:

Sephiroth: You can have the same symptoms by consuming a double bacon cheeseburger.

Chadley:

Sephiroth: Which is much more fulfilling than romance, in my opinion.

• While researching "ways brothers bond," Chadley found funny videos of siblings jump scaring each other. He now frequently hides behind corners, donning a scary mask or fake blood, to scare Sephiroth. He finds it hilarious when Sephiroth gasps and clutches his heart. Sephiroth, in turn, isn't sure when he'll ever stop pretending to be scared, but he doesn't care. He likes seeing Chadley happy.

• Chadley steals Sephiroth's music taste, much to Hojo's chagrin, since the kid likes to blast the heavy metal and obscure goth music in the labs.

• Stealing each other's food.

*They're walking when Chadley's shoelaces come undone*

Chadley: Hold my sandwich for me please.

Sephiroth: Sure.

*Chadley bends down to tie his shoes. When he stands up, his sandwich is gone*

Chadley: I told you to hold it!

Sephiroth: I'm holding it in my stomach.

• Chadley uses social media for researching/ mimicking "sibling behavior" and likes to replicate things he sees. This is how he ended up on a "fun ways to annoy your brother" video. Sephiroth now gets sprayed with water—like a cat—at random when he's trying to rest.

• Chadley's excited rambling about materia and his research is never reprimanded by Sephiroth, who listens happily, remembering how he wished he had someone to listen to him gush about his interests when he was a child.

• Chadley is helping Professor Hojo assess Sephiroth in the labs. When Hojo's back is turned, Charley socks Sephiroth in the arm. Sephiroth, annoyed, punches him right back. Hojo turns around right as Chadley gets punched.

Hojo: Honestly Sephiroth. I expected better from you.

Sephiroth: But he hit me first.

Chadley: He bullies me constantly, Professor.

Sephiroth: !?

• When the labs feel suffocating or Professor Hojo is being particularly difficult, Chadley likes to escape to the 49th floor and use Sephiroth's office as a quiet spot. Sephiroth isn't always there, but when he is he makes sure to distract Chadley and give him the attention he needs. Eventually Sephiroth gives him a spare access card to his apartment if Chadley ever needs it.

• This later evolves into sleepovers.

• They constantly take advantage of their height difference—Chadley through piggyback rides and Sephiroth through fun methods of discipline.

*Lazard walks by Sephiroth's office and sees Sephiroth sitting on Chadley*

Lazard: What in Shiva's name are you doing??

Sephiroth: I caught him trying to go to Wall Market.

Chadley: It's for RESEARCH.

Sephiroth: Clearly he's at the age where he needs to be monitored lest he falls victim to recreational drugs and gang activity.

Chadley: I was just going to conduct a survey! GET OFF ME!

Sephiroth: Struggling will do nothing but amuse me.

• Not even Sephiroth is safe from your little sibling stealing your stuff.

*Chadley walks in with a shiny device in his hand*

Sephiroth: Is that my transmuter?

Chadley: No.

Sephiroth: It says Sephiroth on the back.

Chadley: No it doesn't.

Sephiroth: Chadley, I'm looking right at it.

Chadley: So? You don't even use it.

Sephiroth: Just because I don't regularly use something doesn't mean you can take it without permission.

Chadley: Hm. I guess I should probably give this back.

*Chadley places Masamune on the table*

Sephiroth: HOW—?

• Other SOLDIERs and troopers on missions with Sephiroth have reported seeing his face "light up" whenever he gets a call from Chadley.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

hi love. is it possible that you could do a request where rafe and the reader have a beach day together? add anything you’d like but I also think it would be cute to see him nervous that she’ll burn so he’s always finding an excuse to rub sunscreen all over her back<3

anyways if u do not want to, don’t feel pressured!! ❤️

I love this idea! I love blurbs like this because they're so free and easy to write. You're the best anon.

"Can you just let me-" Rafe starts but I push my glasses further onto my nose and hold a finger up to him, but not the one he was expecting.

"No." He scoffs at the middle finger that's flipped towards him and he lowers himself onto the ground beside me with sunscreen in his hands, looking at me desperately.

"Babe-"

"No, Rafe. I hate the way that sunscreen feels, it's yucky." I pout, taking a second to take a look at him, still needing to soak in his beauty after years of being with him. He's the biggest hypocrite in the world, tanning his skin and flexing his toned muscles in the sun (and burning his ass off) all while trying to force me into coating my skin in the sticky substance.

"I don't want you to get melanoma and die." He huffs like a stubborn child and tilts his head inquisitively at me and I laugh, rising onto my elbows as his eyes briefly flicker down to look at my chest.

"That's sweet." I sigh, reaching up to pat his cheek with a simple shake of my head. "But no."

"You're impossible." He flops onto the sand beside me, rising an arm to rest under his head, eyes squinting in the bright sun as he looks over at me. I smile at him, assuming he's given up on trying to lather me up in sunscreen but I'm proven wrong when he opens his mouth again.

"Can I at least put some on your face?" I roll my eyes with a loud groan, slapping my hands over my face as he rolls towards me, waving the sunscreen back and forth enticingly.

"Fine." I huff, sitting up, wiping the sand off of my back as he sits in front of me with a triumphant smile on his handsome face, squirting some sunscreen on his hands before cupping my cheeks.

"Stop being grumpy." He's so unbelievably gentle with how softly he spreads the cream across my cheeks and forehead, soaking in the way his hands feel against my face as I allow my eyes to flutter shut.

"It feels like you're smothering me in bacon grease." I mutter and Rafe grins wolfishly, leaning towards me to peck my lips in a simple kiss.

"Yum." He mutters into the kiss and I giggle, shoving him away from me with furrowed brows, disgusted at his comment.

"Gross."

"You? Covered in bacon grease? Yes please." He whoops with an annoying grin and my nose scrunches in disgust. "That's almost a better image than you right now in this suit- Jesus Christ." His eyes sweeping over my frame and I feel my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

"You're such a guy." I tease, reaching out to smack his arm but he just catches my hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He winks before looking back at the water with hopeful eyes before turning back to me, giving my hand a subtle tug. "You comin'?"

"It's cold." I whine but he tugs me up and into his arms before tossing me over his shoulder, slapping my ass in a loud clap and I giggle, slapping his back as I beg him to put me down.

"Good thing you don't have a choice."

"Rafe Cameron, no-" He steps closer to the water and I whine, hearing the waves crash around us as he steps deeper and deeper into the cold water that I feel splashing up onto me. "I will dump you, I swear to shit!"

[bitterchocoo]

hi can i request wxs with a reader who bakes a lot, and often surprises them with fresh pastries? if you dont wanna write all of them just rui or emu is fine! 😊

It Only Takes a Taste

Wonderland X Showtime | M. Reader

----------

"You remind me of a girl I once knew.."

----------

Tsukasa Tenma

Will praise your baking skills like there's no tomorrow.

You once make star-shaped sugar cookies for him and he cherishes that thing like it's a real star.

100% brags about having someone who has amazing baking skils

If he sees you baking in the kitchen, he'll help you and you don't have the right to say no. I mean just look at him! Don't you see how he shines brighter than the freaking sun at the thought of baking with you?

The face he makes every time he takes the first bite is always priceless. His eyes practically sparkle.

Also suggested that you should open a bakery, claiming that, "with your skills you'll definitely become a famous baker in no time!"

Rui Kamishiro

Will tease you for giving him a surprise pastry.

Definitely eats them as a snack as he builds his inventions and draws his blueprints.

Either that or midnight snack. Let's be honest, he probably only gets 3 hours of sleep at best with how many inventions he makes. Not to mention those ideas of his.

If he ever catches you baking, it can and will turn into a flour fight. Honestly it'll probably be a war that ends with the kitchen being all messy.

Jokingly say "My compliments to the baker." although he truly meant it.

Nene Kusanagi

Will act all shy because she never has anyone give her anything and a surprise at that?

Definitely eats them as a snack while she plays her video games.

If she sees you baking in the kitchen, she'll try her best to help you. Cooking Mama style. Do the Mama accent and you either get a laugh or a jab in the gut.

She either groans or giggles as you make a Minecraft reference while making a cake/cookies.

She probably suggested you make foods from different games/shows. For example, cookie cat from Steven Universe, butterscotch cinnamon pie from Undertale, the cake from Portal, etc etc.

One day you surprised her by making bacon pancakes from Adventure Time for breakfast and her face lit up.

Emu Otori

Congratulations, you've officially become her favorite person.

Will ask you directly if you have any pastries with you. Who can blame her? It's delicious! And if she could she'll eat it all day everyday!

If she sees you baking in the kitchen, she'll be super excited at the thought of helping you. Imagine a child who wanted to help their parents cook/bake with stars in their eyes, yeah, that's her.

Will also suggest you to open a bakery.

Gives you a small kiosk in Phoenix Wonderfully because she thinks that everyone should try your pastries and it would definitely, absolutely, 100%, guarantee, make everyone smile with just a single bite with how delicious it is.

----------

Another day, another show, another successful day for the troupe.

"You guys did wonderful today, a total of 246 tickets were sold." [Name] stated, looking through the clipboard in his hand.

He's been friends with Tsukasa since childhood who have found joy in the world of theater although not being talented in either singing or dancing, [Name] has become their manager. He's quite grateful for such an opportunity. After all, what's a troupe without a manager?

His carrying nature made him the perfect manager for the troupe and they can't ask for a better manager.

"246 tickets!? That's a lot!" Emu cheered, it's only been a few months since they all started their path towards their dreams and to think they've already made such a progress. "Of course! It's only expected that people wanted to see our show! To see a star!" Tsukasa claims as he smiles proudly at their achievement.

Nene merely smiles as she watches the group being happy at their rising to stardom. "So manager, what's on our schedule for today?" Rui asked curiously.

"Why don't we have a break? It's been a long day."

.

.

.

As the group have a small break, [Name] left to grab something before long he returns with....

"Cookies! You're the best [Name]!" Emu cheered, her eyes sparkles the moment her eyes locked on the small container in their manger's hands. "When did you have the time to do this?" Nene asked.

[Name] puts the container on the table, smiling softly as he watch the group enjoy the cookies he made. He had always enjoy baking and surprising them with fresh pastries had easily became a hobby of his. "I managed." He replied, taking a seat next to Nene.

"Hmm~ You should open a bakery! These are delicious!" Tsukasa compliments as he took another bite of the cookie. "Fufu~ as expected of our manager~" Rui chuckles, eating the pastry with a cheshire grin.

"Honestly, you don't have to.." Nene says, nibbling on the cookie. "But I wanted to~ plus seeing your guys faces every time I gave pastries are always a joy to see~"

Their manager's baking skills had never failed to surprise them. They look absolutely adorable and they're really delicious! The first time he does this, they thought it would just be a one time thing but as time passes. [Name] continues to give them copious amounts of pastries.

They're forever grateful for their manager, not only for the pastries, but for his whole support.

It won't be long until their little theater troupe would make it big and they have their manager to thank them. Who knows? Maybe [Name] might actually start a bakery with Wonderland X Showtime promoting it? Killing two birds with one stone, no?

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 10: Neural, Divergent

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Mikey is unable to answer. He just keeps looking at the three of them, eyes begging for help and watering quickly. His mouth opens and closes several times over, though no sounds emerge.

At long last, his hands -- shaky and trembling -- desperately sign a message.

'Purple... Blue... Red... brothers. Knows, Mikey KNOWS. MIKEY KNOWS, MIKEY KNOWS -- BROTHERS, BROTHERS, BROTHERS, BROTHERS...'

Mikey starts crying, simply signing that one word over and over again. Brothers, brothers, brothers...

Donnie rushes to his side and holds him closely.

"It's okay, Angie. You know us. You remember us. That's good, that's very good, you're okay... I'm sorry Angie, I didn't mean to --"

Mikey starts hiccuping and grabs at Donnie in despair, clawing at him and wrapping his tail around him tightly, as if getting closer to him will reignite some missing link in his spotty memory. He refuses to let go. His cries are wet, wobbly, uncontrolled. They sound like they belong to a child ten years younger than Mikey.

Donnie halts for a moment. He trembles. He grips Mikey tightly, rubbing his back. He notices the ridges on his shell start to raise. The scales on his tail begin to lift up. Mikey is highly uncomfortable. Donnie needs to calm him down before his 'instinct' can take over.

He gives him quiet shushes and waves his brothers over, who immediately come close and wrap their arms around him as well, Leo rubbing circles on his head while Raph takes Mikey's hands.

'Sorry,' Mikey signs against Donnie, his eyes squeezed shut as he suck-up cries. 'Mikey... broken. Mikey knows Mikey broken. Doesn't want to be...'

"You don't have to be sorry, Michael, it isn't your fault," Donnie assures him. "I promise, I will fix you. You won't stay 'broken', you're not 'broken' at all! You're just... just..."

Donnie doesn't know what term to use. Mikey can't be broken...

...But he is. Donnie will always hate himself for admitting this, if only in the deepest part of his subconscious, but Mikey is broken now. His shell looks like it was literally shattered and then glued back together. His hands and feet are reformed, disfigured talons. He can't speak. He can't (or at least, has yet to) walk upright. He can't remember things that are highly important, like the past week or what his father looks like. By his own admission, he sometimes isn't even in control of his own self.

Mikey forgot what their names were.

That is not normal. Especially for him.

Mikey isn't himself anymore.

Mikey's breathing starts to slow. It's been a few minutes, and he's calmed down. He's still shaking slightly, but otherwise...

He's not fine. None of them are 'fine'. But he's finished crying, at least.

Donnie sighs and asks Mikey if he'd be willing to do one more test quickly. He feels Mikey nod against his chest.

Donnie lets the others go get breakfast while he prepares the final examination. Raph carries Mikey into the kitchen, where Casey has taken over as head chef in Michelangelo's absence. Apparently, future Mikey taught him some recipes, including deep-fried rat... which, actually, doesn't taste that bad. Though today, Casey has opted for pancakes and bacon. Mikey smells the bacon first, and his tail starts to weakly wag, though his expression is still exhausted from the crying.

"Good morning, Michelangelo!" Casey Jones Jr. says with a smile. "Ya hungry?"

Mikey nods as Raph lowers him down on the bench by the table.

"I'm guessing he wants strawberry pancakes?"

"Those are his fav, how did you know --" Raph stops and rolls his eyes. "Right. Future. You know everything."

"Well, maybe not everything," Casey chuckles. He turns back to the flapjacks, hiding the shift in his expression. "...I didn't know this would happen..."

Mikey signs something to Leo, who nods and turns to CJ.

"Mikey wants extra bacon with his pancakes. New diet, he needs more meat."

"You got it, sensei -- I mean, Leo."

Casey inhales, balling his fist up in soft frustration before exhaling and going back to focus on the food. He's been doing better at not calling them by their future names, but every once in a while he slips. It doesn't seem to bother anyone... apart from Casey Jr.

And Leonardo.

Casey finishes Mikey's meal first, handing a plate stacked full of pancakes and bacon to him. Mikey's eyes go wide, his pupils huge. He starts to drool at the food, sniffing it once before ravenously devouring it. Mikey doesn't even use a fork or knife, which at this point doesn't surprise anyone. But he does cause a bit of a mess, smearing the syrup all across his face and splashing some on Raph, who has the misfortune of sitting directly besides him.

"Mikey, calm down! There's plenty more where that came from," Raph says with a soft chuckle as he wipes the sticky sauce off his arms.

Mikey slows down a bit, but continues to eat like a feral creature, tearing the bread apart with his teeth and using his hands to hold the food down. He follows each pancake with two slices of bacon, chewing loudly and growling in contentment between bites.

Leo grimaces at the sight.

"Mikey, bud, maybe try eating with your mouth closed?"

Mikey stops suddenly and looks up at him, a pancake dangling from his jaw and his entire face covered brown with molasses. Casey has to turn away to keep from laughing at the sight. Mikey slowly muches the pancake back up into his mouth, and tries chewing with it closed.

"Better," Leo says with a weak smile.

The boys continue breakfast, Mikey watching the others and how they eat to get an understanding of what to do. He sees the silverware being handled, how there is an unused fork and knife by his dish. He picks the fork up slowly. It feels awkward in his hand, his fingers are too long for it now. His hands can't remember how to hold it properly. He fumbles with it, pressing it against the pancake, stabbing it several times and trying to lift it up to his mouth. He is utterly offended when the pancake falls off the fork and splats on the plate again, splattering drops of syrup across his plastron.

Mikey grumbles softly, discarding the fork and going back to just using his hands and teeth to eat with.

He knows they are watching him struggle. He knows they won't say anything just yet. He knows that they feel just as uncomfortable watching him try to eat as he feels being watched.

Ten minutes later, Raph and Leo's phones ding. Donnie is ready for them.

Mikey quickly gets wiped down and then walked back to Donnie's lab, where he has apparently set up a whole CT scanner. Mikey stares at the big machine with anxiety.

"Mikey, this is the last test for today, I promise," Donnie says, smiling kindly at him. "Nothing else after this one. It will only take 15 minutes, won't hurt you at all, you don't even have to do anything other than just lay still for a bit. You can even take a nap in there, if you want."

"When did you build this?" Leo asks, running his hand along the machine's mouth and peering inside.

"A long while back... after the whole incident with the mind-reprogramulator..."

"The what?"

"Nevermind. I've definitely not been scanning your brains on occasion when you were asleep. Mikey, can you handle this one last test for me? All I'm gonna do is look at your brain for any injuries or traumas," Donnie asks, kneeling down to look his little brother in the eyes.

Mikey stares at the machine nervously. He signs at Donnie.

'Safe?'

"Perfectly safe," Donnie promises. "Can you do it?"

Mikey doesn't sign back, but moves over to the machine, jumping up and crawling inside.

"I'll take that as a yes," Donnie mumbles, going to help adjust Mikey's position for the scan to work properly.

"Just lie back nice and easy and try to relax. You can listen to music while you wait if that helps," Donnie offers.

Mikey reaches his hands out and signs 'yes please'. Leo grabs the headset for him and lets Mikey choose what music to listen to.

Fifteen minutes of silence go by. Mikey does eventually fall asleep, the early rise compounded by the profuse sobbing from earlier having exhausted him, and the music is the icing on the cake. Once they hit the ten minute mark, Mikey's eyes slip shut. By the thirteenth minute, he's snoring softly.

Donnie's monitor beeps at him, a black and white image of Mikey's brain showing up on the screen.

"Okay, here we go..." Donnie says with a deep exhale, rolling his chair over and studying the scan thoroughly.

"Well?" Leo asks, leaning over his twin. "Survey says?"

Donnie is quiet for some time, hands folded under his chin as he makes certain of what the machine has deduced. He points to an area of the brain with a slightly whiter marking filling the grey matter.

"See this area here?" he says softly. "The white means he's had head trauma."

"The white?" Raph repeats. "Donnie... there's a heck of a lot of white on that scan."

"I know. Look at these markings here," he says, pointing around the image to several parts of Mikey's brain that are slightly discoloured. "These indicate electrical injury."

"...Electrical?" Leo questions, his tone irritated and voice hot with anger.

"Yes," Donnie says, his tone also getting quite unhappy. "Electrical injury. I'm going to kill every one of those TCRI dunderheads..."

"Donnie," Raph says sternly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The injuries aren't permanent, right?"

"There... there is some slight scarring," Donnie answers quietly. "But it should heal. Leo would know better."

"With Draxum's mutations making us virtually indestructible and quick-healing, I'd say he'll be fine," Leo says with a nod after giving the scan a once-over. "But the scars do affect his brain with things like short term memory... probably why he doesn't remember much about his captivity," Leo works out.

"So, he's got amnesia basically?" Raph asks.

"No, not amnesia, just head injuries," Donnie clarifies. "It's a symptom of any kind of trauma. It could be he blocked the memories... or if I am correct about the dissociative identity disorder, then he wasn't fully cognizant when certain things occurred -- almost like sleepwalking. Or, it's possible that the contusions he received knocked them loose, in a manner of speaking," Donnie suggests. "He has the memories, but can't access them yet. As time goes by and he heals properly, the memories will find their places and he'll be better."

"There have been all kinds of stories about this kind of thing," Leo chimes in, "where someone was in a car wreck and forgot everything -- even how to talk or eat or read, and needed to relearn their whole life from scratch. As time passed on, they got better and eventually their memories returned."

"Exactly," Donnie concurs. "It happens all the time with trauma patients. So I'm sure Mikey will be fine..."

Raph hears the hesitation again. He squeezes Donnie's shoulder. Donnie places his hand over Raph's, patting it in recognition of the comfort.

"So... what do we do in the meantime?" Raph asks.

"I can look up a list of ways to treat memory loss," Donnie says, quickly typing on the computers. "Or you guys can take over on that while I work on the anti-mutation cure."

"I can handle it," Leo volunteers. "No prob, bob. No problem, Boblem. No probert, Robert. No 'probbles' at all."

Donnie rolls his eyes, which are starting to look rather bloodshot. Raph doesn't let that go unnoticed.

"Dee, maybe you should get some rest now..."

"I'll be fine," he refutes, pushing Raph's hand off his shoulder. "I just need to work on a few things and then I'll take a siesta..."

"Don, seriously, you promised --"

An alert from the computer interrupts Raphael's scoldings. Donnie pulls up the security feed from the surroundings of the lair.

"April has arrived," he announces. "...Let's go break the news to her."

Prev || Next

[snugglebugs]

KAI SMITH flip (caregiver-leaning!)

Kai Ninjago Smith is ABSOLUTELY an age regressor are you KIDDING me are you JOKING me. He is BASICALLY CANONICALLY an age regressor!!!!

> "I bet he loves being treated like a baby..." (Nya, Season 14, Episode 6, Call From The Abyss)... Yeah he does because he IS a baby. He is THE baby. He is BABY.

His entire traumatic backstory is that, after his parents were taken from him from an early age, he had to step into a parental role for his little sister and become the adult of the family while still being a child himself. He had to grow up before he even really had a chance to grow at all. On-screen, we see that once his parents return and he's no longer forced into that role of responsibility, he canonically regresses into childish habits and language we have never before seen him use or display beforehand.

"Ham and cheese sandwiches with crispy bacon? Oh thanks, Mommy! You're the best! Mm... bacon is the best, too!" (Kai, Season 14, Episode 6, Call From The Abyss).

Conclusion? Kai Smith is the most age-regressor to ever age regress ever I will not take criticism because I am OBJECTIVELY CORRECT.

Anyway!! I think Kai is regresses from 5-9~ years old. We can tell from his diction that he doesn't seem to be a baby regressor (at least in this scene), as he's capable of fully-formed sentences and has the cognitive skills required to play video games, so that leads me to believe he might be a little-middlespace regressor! Kai's parents left when he was around 5, so it makes sense he wouldn't be an infant regressor, but around the little-middle spectrum, regressing into the same range of years in which he didn't have a chance to be a child before.

I don't just think he's an age regressor, though, I also think he's a flip, too! He definitely has some care-giving tendencies built-in to him from having to be a caretaker for his little sister for so many years, and so he pretty naturally slips into the role of a big brother caregiver! I imagine he leans more towards the caregiving side then the regressing side, just because being a caregiver is what he's used to being - what he's always had to be - but that may be prone to change as he becomes more comfortable with his regression! He hates regressing around the other age regressors, especially when they're regressed, because he feels like when they're small he has to be big and adult to take care of them regardless of his own headspace. We can see his caregiver tendencies displayed in... countless interactions with Lloyd. Speaking of...

LLOYD MONTGOMERY GARMADON age regressor!

I am, once again, OBJECTIVELY correct. Lloyd is basically canonically an age regressor. He IS canonically an age regressor. He is, quite literally, a child stuck in a teenager's body -- as in he was a child and then magic age-up tea turned his body into a teenager's but still left him with the mental capacity of a child. Which is the DEFINITION of what an age regressor is!! Bodily an adult but mentally a child!! He IS an age regressor!!!!

And even if that WASN'T the case, he'd probably be an age regressor anyway, because, like. Look at him. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders since he was, like, eight, was unable to be a child because he had to endure constant rigorous training and when he WASN'T training he was undergoing countless traumatic experiences while he was still a child.

> Lloyd: "Well...The latest issue of Starfarer just came in at Doomsday Comix and it's a limited run, so if I don't go out and get it, it's going to sell out. Last they left off, intergalactic rogue Fritz Donnegan was surrounded by the Imperial Sludge, and if I don't find out if he gets out alright, I think I might have my own doomsday!" Kai: "The fate of Ninjago rests on your shoulders. As the Green Ninja, you have a giant responsibility to hold. I'm sorry, but you don't have time for such childish things." Lloyd: "Other kids get to play and have fun. All I ever do is train..." (Season 2, Episode 18, Child's Play)

I don't even think I need to argue my case that hard for why Lloyd is an age regressor. I think it'd be harder to argue why he ISN'T an age regressor, actually. TRY to argue that he's not an age regressor. TRY. I BET you CAN'T.

I don't have much evidence for this one, but I imagine he may be a pet regressor, too! He's an oni-dragon-hybrid, after all, and his heritage have proven to come with strong instincts regarding this animalistic half of his genes, as seen throughout the Oni Trilogy.

COLE BROOKSTONE caregiver!

Look at him. JUST LOOK AT HIM. The most caregiver to ever caregive ever forever. He has chronic can't-stop-adopting-children syndrome. He's adopted, like, three separate children at this point. It is becoming a problem.

"Huh? Oh, no. Don't make that face. Don't cry. Oh, I can't take it any more. Hey, look at me. Hehe. Yeah. I'm not sad. Ha-ha, I'm not crying. Oh, fine. But this is between you and me. Shine, little glow worm, glimmer glimmer. Hey there, don't get dimmer, dimmer. You like that, huh? Well, there's more where that came from. Glow, little glow worm. Glow and Glimmer—" (Cole, Season 8, Episode 5, Dead Man's Squall)

When his mentor canonically (mentally & physically) regressed into an infant his first and immediate instinct was to adopt and care for them. If that isn't agere caregiver behaviour I don't know WHAT is. HE BECAME THE FATHER TO AN INDIVIDUAL REGRESSED FROM THEIR NORMAL HEADSPACE INTO A CHILD.... HE'S LITERALLY A CAREGIVER GUYS!!!!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE YOU WANT ME TO SAY!!!!!!! I AM JUST STRAIGHT-UP CORRECT!!!!!!!!!!!

JAY WALKER padded regressor!

"Jay: Aah! [He picks up a ruined stuffed toy.] Mister Cuddlywomp… [sobs] is a teddy bear I used to love when I was five, but now he's totally lame and—

Cole: We know you still sleep with him.

Jay: And I don't care who knows it! Mister Cuddlywomp..." (Season 7, Episode 6, The Attack)

Jay Walker is DEFINTELY a regressor. His personality has been noted to be very child-like and babyish at times, to the point where the fandom (and showwriters) tend to infantilize him, despite the fact that in his own right he can be a very serious character when he need be. As much as I do believe he's an age regressor, it's important to remember he can be very capable and competent character when he's big, too, and not to define him by his regression!

If he's any regressor, it's definitely a padded regressor. Throughout the show, it's become a running bit that he's a bedwetter and has a weak bladder:

"Jay: But I don't wanna get wet. I...I only have one pair of underwear.

Kai: Jay, this is no time to be making jokes. The Bounty can only take so much.

"Jay: You think I'm trying to be funny?" (Season 2, Episode 9, The Last Voyage)

"Harumi: Uh, forgive me, but is that...underwear?

Jay: We're usually more organized. Ahem. But our leader got lost in a time-stream. Uh, they're Cole's.

Cole: They're blue!

Kai: You're lucky they're not yellow." (Season 8, Episode 3, The Oni & The Dragon)

"Oh, that reminds me, Jay, honey, I need to teach you how to bleach your boxer shorts." (Maya, Season 14, Episode 7, Unsinkable)

"Jet Jack: Then tell us, who do these diapers belong to?

Kai: Oh, those are Jay's. Tell 'em, Jay.

Jay: Oh. I have a weak bladder." (Season 9, Episode 2, Iron & Stone)

These are only a few of many, many examples (You can find others throughout the show, such as in Only One Can Remain, The Darkness Remains, Darkness Within, etc), and though it's usually spun as a joke, there's no harm and shame in it! In conclusion

ZANE JULIEN caregiver!

"I was built to protect those who can't protect themselves!" (Zane, Season 3, Episode 8, The Titanium Ninja)

I don't know what else you want me to say guys... he said so himself.,,,,,,. was built to protect those who can't protect themselves...,.....

Zane's entire identity is hinged around adaptability. Though I could go on a WHOLE 'NOTHER ESSAY about Zane's relationship with identity, the point here is that he often adapts to what people need him to be! I mean, he downloaded thousands pieces of detective media onto his hardware in order to try to track down the other ninja after they went missing, if called for I imagine he could very easily slip into the role of caretaker (he WOULD download hundreds of resources on age regression to help the other ninja)!

I don't have a lot of evidence for this one beside source: bro trust me but bro. trust me. The Vibes,,,, theyre there

These are just my personal headcanons based on evidence I've gathered from the show - I am in NO WAY saying these are the only headcanons or that they are the "correct" ones!! In fact, if you have DIFFERENT headcanons for the ninja (esp. ones I didn't provide a lot of detail for), I encourage you to share them in the tags, I'd love to hear other's opinions!!!! ^^

If this gets enough interested, I might make a pt. 2, so stay tuned!!

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Mystery Spot

Masterlist

Heat of the Moment 

Heat of the Moment

I open my eyes to see that I was laying on my stomach and the blanket was covering my nude body. I raised my head a bit from the pillow and see Dean sitting on the other bed, tying his shoes. "Rise and shine, sweetheart!" He said and I groan and bury my face in my pillow. "Ugh, five more minutes." I groaned.

"Oh c'mon, (y/n). Don't make me pull you out of bed like a child." Dean said to me. "It's your fault wanting to do a few rounds of the bedroom rodeo last night." I said and Dean smirks.

"What? We hadn't any alone time in awhile. Plus...I couldn't help that you felt so good and right last night." Dean said then he starts to lip sync to the song.

Heat of the moment

Heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes

He bobs his head to the music and points at me and I shake my head at this and then chuckled as he walks to the bathroom. Thank God, Sam is with Bobby doing a job with him and not with us. It would've been so embarrassing to face him after the night Dean and I had.

Later, I was up and dressed as Dean gargles his mouth wash loudly and long. I tried to ignore him long enough to brush my teeth. Dean looks over at me and grins, which made me roll my eyes at him.

"Can you be any louder?" I asked him once I was done brushing my teeth. Dean bends over the sink and spits out the mouthwash and said. "Funny, I asked you the same thing last night!" I threw a towel at him, which hits him in the face, and he chuckles. 

"Whenever you're ready, Dean." I called out to him, minutes later, then Dean pulls out a black bra. "This yours?" He asked and I do a fake gasp. "That was supposed to be a surprise for you later!" I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, then I walked up to him and take the bra out of his hand. I wink at him then walk away from, adding a sway to my hips.

I put the bra away and I look over at him and see him roaming his eyes over my body. "Down, boy." I said to him and I rummage in a bag some more, and pull out a gun. "Bingo." I said then I turn to Dean. "Now who's ready for some breakfast?" I asked and he smiles. "You read my mind." He said.

We entered the cafe, the door chimes, as the cashier gives money to an older man. "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett." the cashier said. "Yeah, yeah." The old man said as the cook shouts. "Order up." Dean and I find a booth as a waitress shouts. "Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules."

Dean notices something on the wall. "Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." He said, smiling, and I look at the menu hanging on the wall. "You even know what that is?" I asked him. He shrugs as the waitress, whose nametag says Doris, walks up to us.

"You two ready?" she asked us. "Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean orders. "Make it two coffees and a short stack." I said and Doris nods. "You got it." She said and she walks away. 

"Dean, are you sure we should be doing this job? I mean, we really need to find Bela." I said. "That's what Sam and Bobby are doing." He said and I sighed. "Look, believe me, I want to find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this." he said as he pulls out some papers. "All right, so this professor." I said as I pick up a newspaper.

"Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished." Dean said. "Last known location?" I asked him. "His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot." He replied as I look over the paper. "Where the laws of physics have no meaning." I remarked as Doris arrives with a tray with two coffees and a bottle of hot sauce.

"Two coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the-" she started to say but gasps as the hot sauce falls off the tray and smashes on the floor. "Whoops. Crap! Sorry." she said to me then turns to the side. "Cleanup!" she yells.

After breakfast, Dean and I walked down the street where a dog barks at us as we passed. Then I grab the Mystery Spot flyer from Dean's hands. "Dean, I don't know...joints like this are only tourist traps, right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling, they're only dangerous to your wallet." I said. "Agreed. But Sam told me there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people. The Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon Vortex-" he said then I interrupt. "Broward County Mystery Spot?" And he nods at this.

"Well Sam said that sometimes these places are legit." Dean said. "All right, so if it is legit, and that's a big-ass if, what's the lore?" I asked. "Sam told me that the lore's pretty frigging nuts, actually." Dean said when a blonde woman bumps into me. "Excuse me." She said then walked off. I shake my head as Dean continues. "They say these places, the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend spacetime, sending victims no one knows where." He said.

"Sounds a little X-Files to me." I said as we pass two movers trying to get a desk in a door. "Told you it wouldn't fit." One guy said. "What do you want, a Pulitzer?" His partner yelled.

"All right, look, I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something." Dean said and I sighed. "All right, all right, so what do you wanna do, big boy?" I asked him. "We'll go tonight, after they close, get ourselves a nice long look." He said and I nod. "Sounds good to me." I said.

That night, we snuck into the Mystery Spot and make our way into a hallway that is neon green with a black double spiral painted on the walls and door. I pull out the EMF reader while Dean shines the flashlight around and up onto a table, lamp, and ashtray attached upside-down to the ceiling.

"Wow. Uncanny." he remarks as I examine another table with a wine glass and a poultry dinner, this one at an angle to the floor. Both of us move on. "Find anything?" Dean asked me, holding the unresponsive EMF meter. "No. You have any idea what you're looking for?" I asked him. "Uh, yeah." Dean responded and I raise an eyebrow. "No." He said after he swallows and I shake my head. We shine flashlights around other parts of the room when we heard something behind us.

"What the hell are you doing here?" a voice asked and I turn to look As Dean points his flashlight and handgun at the voice. The owner of the shop had a gun aimed at Dean and Dean points his gun elsewhere. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, we can explain." He said and the man points the gun at me.

"You robbing me?" the man asked us. "Look, nobody's robbing you, calm down." I said, calmly, and the guy points the gun back at Dean as he raised his hands. "Don't move!" He yells as Dean lowers his hand, which held his gun. "Just putting the gun down." Dean said when the man fires and Dean falls.

"Dean!" I screamed and I rush to Dean, who struggles to breathe. "Hey!" I shout as I look at the man. "Call 911." I ordered him as he looks at Dean in shock. "I-I didn't mean to-" he stammers. "Now!" I yelled and the man leaves and I turn back to Dean. "Hey, hey, oh, no, no, no, not like this..." I pleaded, tears forming in my eyes. "Stay with me, please." I cried. Dean stares at me for a moment before he goes still and closed his eyes.

"Dean?" I said, softly, then I shake him but he doesn't respond. "Dean?! DEAN!" I screamed, devastated.

Heat of the moment 

Telling you what your heart is

My eyes snap open and I quickly raise my head then looked around and realized I was sleeping on my front, the blanket covering my nude body. "Rise and shine, sweetheart!" Dean said as he sits on the other bed, tying his shoes.

What the hell? Was that a dream? It sure didn't feel like a dream. I was in a daze as I stare at him, then at the clock radio.

The heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes

"Oh, come on, (y/n). Don't make me pull you out of the bed like a kid." Dean said as I kept staring at him, breathing hard. "Dean." I said, disbelief, and he looks me over. "Must've wore you out last night. But you just felt so good and so right last night." Dean said then he turns the volume up and starts bopping along to the song, exactly like in my dreams....I think.

Moments later, Dean gargles his mouthwash, loudly and annoying, while I drink some water, swish it around, and spit it not. "What?" Dean asked after his spits out his mouthful. "I don't know." I said, furrowing my brow. "You all right?" He asked me, worried. "I think I-" I pause for a moment. "Dean, I had a weird dream." I said. "Yeah? Clowns or midgets?" Dean asked me. I scoffed then threw a towel at his head.

Later, the door chimes as Dean and I enter the diner and the cashier gives the old man some change. "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett." She said. "Yeah, yeah." The old man grumbled as I stared around, bewildered, until we found a booth. Sam is staring around, bewildered.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal." a waitress said to a homeless looking man. "You know the rules." he said and Cal hands her some change. "Coffee." He said and I just look at this.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean said and I glance between Dean and the poster. "It's Tuesday?" I asked, confused. "Yeah." Dean replied as the waitress, Doris, comes up to us. "Are you two ready?" She asked us. "Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean said while I stare for a minute. "Uh, nothing for me, thanks." I said to her. "Let me know if you change your mind." Doris said and she leaves.

I stare after Doris, just still getting this weird sense of...something. "Hey." Dean said as he snaps his fingers at me and I turn to him. "You with me?" he asked. "What?" I said, dazed. "You sure you feeling okay?" Dean asked me, concerned, and I sigh.

"You don't--you don't remember? Any of this?" I asked and her looks at me with confusion. "Remember what?" he asked. "This. Today. Like it's--like it's happened before?" I said. "You mean like déjà vu?" he asked. "No, I mean like, like it's really happened before." I said. "Yeah. Like déjà vu." Dean said and I shake my head.

"No, forget about déjà vu. I'm asking you if it feels like, like we're living yesterday all over again." I said, slightly frustrated. "Okay, how is that not dé-" he started to say but I talk over him. "Don't, don't say it! Just don't even..." I yelled just as Doris arrives with a tray with one coffee and the hot sauce.

"Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the-oops! Crap!" she said. I notice the hot sauce wobble on the tray and catch it as it falls, making Doris gasps. I stare at the bottle in my hand, shocked, before giving it back. "Thanks." she said, appreciatevly, as she puts down the bottle and leaves.

"Nice reflexes." Dean compliments but I don't say anything.

The dog barks at us as we walked down the street. I stare back over my shoulder. "(Y/n), I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Dean said. "Okay, look, yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday too." I said. "Yeah. No. Good. You're totally balanced." DeN jokes and I stare at him.

"So you don't believe me?" I asked him. Dean laughs and I collide with the Blonde Girl. "Excuse me." she said. "Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know, I mean, even for us crazy. Dingo ate my baby crazy. Hey, maybe it was another of your psychic premonitions." said Dean but I shake my head. "No, no way, way too vivid. Okay, look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then-" I stop and bite my lips.

"And then what?" he asked. "Then I woke up." I replied as we pass the Movers.

"Told you it wouldn't fit."

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

"Wait a minute! The Mystery Spot. You think maybe it-" I exclaimed and Dean looks at me. "Maybe what?" he asked. "We gotta check that place out. Look, just, go with me on this, okay?" I said. "All right, all right, we'll go tonight, after it closes, get ourselves a nice long look." Dean said and I realized what Dean said and whip him around.

"Wait, what? No." I said. "Why not?" Dean asked. "Uh. Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded." I said and Dean just give me a weird look. "My God, you're a freak." he said. "Dean." I said, exasperated, and he sighs. "Okay. Whatever. We'll go now." Dean said and he walks a few feet ahead of me and looks to his right as he enters the street.

But then a car slams into him from his left, making me jump. "Dean!" I shout and I rush to Dean. "Dean, no, no, no." I cried as I see that Dean has blood on his face and is barely moving. I turn him over and pick him up. "Come on, Dean." I cried and I look over and see that old man, Mr Pickett, leaning out of the now-stopped car.

Then I turn back to Dean. "Hey. Dean." I said but Dean isn't moving. "Dean. Dean." I pleaded.

Heat of the moment

Telling you what your heart is

I jump and my eyes open as I raise my head to see Dean tying his shoe. "Rise and shine, sweetheart!" Dean said and I stare at him. 

The heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes 

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean said after we arrived at the diner. "Would you listen to me, Dean? Because I am flipping out." I growled. "Are you two ready?" Doris asked us and I quickly speak before Dean does. "He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black, nothing for me, thanks." I said while Dean gives me a look of surprise. "You got it." Doris said and she leaves while Dean smiles at me.

"(y/n), I get all tingly when you take control like that." Dean said as his smile grows. "Quit screwing around, Dean." I said, annoyed, and Dean raises his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm listening. So, so you think that you're in some kind of a what again?" he said. "Time loop." I replied.

"Like Groundhog Day." Dean said and I nod. "Yes, exactly, like Groundhog Day." I said and Dean nods too. "Uh-huh." he said, disbelief. "So you don't believe me." I grumbled. "It's just a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy, you know, like, uh-" Dean said then I finish his sentence. "Dingo ate my baby crazy?"

"How'd you know I was going to say that?" Dean asked. "Because you said it before, Dean, that's my whole point." I said and Doris comes back. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the-whoops! Crap." she said as the hot sauce bottle falls but I catch it and hand it back to Doris without looking. "Thanks." She said and she puts down the hot sauce and leaves.

"Nice reflexes." Dean compliments. "No. I knew it was going to happen." I said. "Okay, look, I'm sure there's some sort of an explanation-" he started to say but I shake my head, slightly. "You're just going to have to go with me on this, Dean, you just have to, you owe me that much." I said, my voice rising with every word.

"Calm down." Dean said to me. "Don't tell me to calm down. I can't calm down. I can't. Because-" I said, frustrated, then I stopped. "Because what?" Dean asked me and I sighed. "Because you die today, Dean." I replied my hand started to shake. Dean reaches out and places his hand over mine. "I'm not gonna die. Not today." Dean said, trying to assure me.

"Twice now I've watched you die, and I can't. I won't do it again, okay? You're just going to have to believe me. Please." I said, shakily, and Dean and I stare into each other's eyes. "All right. I still think you're nuts, but okay, whatever this is, we'll figure it out." He said and I nod.

Walking down the street and that damn dog barks at us as we pass. I avoided the blonde woman to prevent hitting her then we pass the Movers. "And you think this cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?" Dean asked me. "Maybe it's the real deal, you know? The, the magnetic fields bending spacetime or whatever." I try to explain.

"I don't know, it all seems a little too X-Files for me." He said. "Well I don't know how else to explain it, Dean!" I exclaimed. "All right, all right, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look." He said but I place a hand on his shoulder. "No no no no no, we can't." I said. "Why not?" He asked me.

"Because you-" I pause again.

"I what?" he asked but I don't say anything. "I die there?" he asked and I nod, slightly. "Blown away, actually." I informed. "Huh. Okay, we go now." Dean said then he starts forward. I rush after him and grab him before he runs into the street. Mr Pickett's car zooms past. "Stay out of the way!" the man shouts while Dean and I stare after the car.

"Wait, did he?" Dean asked me and I nod. "Yesterday, yeah." I replied. "And?" He said and i glance at him. "And what?" I asked. "Did it look cool, like in the movies?" He asked me with a smirk. "You peed yourself, Dean." I stated, making his smile disappear. "Of course I peed myself. Man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" He exclaims and I roll my eyes. Dean is careful to look both ways before we cross the street.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. We could use all the good ink we can get." the owner of the Mystery Spot said to us after we arrived. "How long have you owned the place, Mr. Kopiak?" I asked. "My family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't want to know when." Kopiak said.

"So you'd know if anything strange happened." I said. "Strange? Strange happens here all the time. It's a Mystery Spot." Kopiak said, like he was still in a performance. "What exactly does that mean?" I asked him and i noticed Dean just staring at me. "Well, uh, it's where the laws of physics have no meaning." He replies.

"Okay, like how?" I asked, angrily, and Kopiak grins. "Take the tour." He said, spreading his arms out. "The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback, he take the tour?" Dean asked. "Uh, uh, hold on a minute, what kind of article is this?" Kopiak asked. "Just answer the question." I said, firmly.

"The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment-" he said but then I get into his face. "Listen to me. There is something weird going on here. Now do you know anything about it or not?" I asked and he looked a bit taken aback. "Okay. Look. Um. Give me a break. I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, all right? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds." He admits while I stare at him, stone-faced.

"Okay, Kojak, let's get some air." Dean said and he steers me outside.

"I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought. Full of crap." Dean said and I sigh. "Then what is it, Dean, what the hell is happening to us?" I asked. "I don't know. All right, lemme just, so, every day I die." said Dean. "Yeah." I said. "And that's when you wake up again, right?" He asked me and I nod.

"So let's just make sure I don't die. If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out." Dean said and I look up at him. "You think?" I asked. "Worth a shot. I say we grab some takeout and head back to the motel, lay low until midnight." Dean said and I nod. Then he smiles and he places his arms around my waist. "Maybe go a few more rounds tonight." He said and I let out a small chuckle.

Then he leans in and we kiss for a few moments before he pulls back and smiles at me. "Okay..." I muttered and Dean's smile grew. "All right, good." he said then he leans in and kissed me again before he walks away. "Who wants Chinese?" Dean asked as he starts walking again.

But he only gets two steps before getting flattened by a falling desk. I jumped and see the movers, one holding the other end of the snapped rope and the other up in the window, and I stare at this then groan.

Heat of the moment

Telling you what your heart is

The heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes 

"I still think you're nuts, but whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Dean said. "Thanks." I sighed, exasperated. "So. Uh. You're stuck in Groundhog Day. Why? What's behind it?" Dean asked. "Well, first I thought it was the Mystery Spot. Now I'm not so sure." I said. 

"What do we do?" asked Dean. "Try to keep you breathing, try to make it to tomorrow. That's the only thing I can think of." I said. "Shouldn't be too hard." Dean said and I scoff. "Yeah, right, Dean, I've watched you die a few times now and I can't ever seem to stop it." I said. 

"Well, nothing's set in stone. You said I order the same thing every day, right?" he asked. "Yeah. Pig in a poke, side of bacon." I said and Dean turns to Doris, who is standing by the window to the kitchen, talking with the cook. "'Scuse me, sweetheart." He calls and Doris turns. "Can I get sausage instead of bacon?" He asked. "Sure thing, hon." She said and Dean smiles.

"See? Different day already. See, if you and I decide I'm not gonna die, I'm not gonna die." Dean said then Doris brings over Dean's food. "Thank you." Dean said to her then stabs a sausage with his fork and bites in. I grin as Doris walks away but then Dean starts to choke. "Dean. Dean?" I said, panicked.

Heat of the moment

Telling you what your heart is

The heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes 

"You mean we can't even go out for breakfast?" Dean calls out from the shower while I was packing everything. "You'll thank me when it's Wednesday!" I called out to him. "Whatever that means." I hear him grumbled and I shake my head.

After everything was packed, I look out the window but then I hear Dean yelp, followed by a thud. I growl under my breath and place my hand over my face.

Heat of the moment

Telling you what your heart is

The heat of the moment

Showed in your eyes 

Day in and day out, Tuesday after Tuesday after Tuesday, death after death after death....I don't know how much more I can take of this.

We walked in the diner for about the hundredth time, or at least for me, and the door chimes as the cashier gives Mr. Pickett some change.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

"Yeah, yeah." Mr Pickett grumbles and we bump into each other as we pass. "Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules." A waitress said and Cal passes her some change. Dean and I sit down in a booth.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean said and I put a set of keys on the table. Dean looks at them, then at me. "What are those?" he asked me. "The old man's. Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel." I said and Doris comes up to us.

"You two ready?" she asked. "Uh, yes, we are. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean said and I turn to her. "Hey, Doris? What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot." I said and she gives me a confused look. "How'd you know that?" She asked. "Lucky guess." I said, smirking, and she walks away.

"Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?" Dean asked me. "Time loop." I replied. "Like Groundhog Day." He said. "Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it." I said, annoyed. "Jeez, aren't you grumpy." Dean retorts. "Yeah, I am. You wanna know why?" I asked and he raises an eyebrow at me. "Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, I'm a little grumpy." I growled. "Hot sauce."

"What?" Dean asked as Doris arrives with the coffee and hot sauce. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the-whoops! Crap!" She shouts but I catch the hot sauce and slide it across the table. "Thanks." Doris said and she walks away again.

"Nice reflexes." Dean compliments. "I knew it was going to happen, Dean. I know everything that's gonna happen." I said. "You don't know everything." Dean said and I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, I do." I said.

"Yeah, right." We said, in unison, and Dean furrows his brow.

"Nice guess." We said, in unison again. "It wasn't a guess." I said to him.

"Right, you're a mind reader." we said and I could tell Dean was getting a bit annoyed.

"Cut it out, (y/n)."

"(y/n)."

Then we lean towards each other, simultaneously. "You think you're being funny but you're being really really childish!" We said. "(y/n) (l/n) is a scaredy cat. (Y/n) (l/n) is a crybaby. When she watches Titanic, she cries at the end when Jack dies..." we said until Dean throws up his hands In frustration and said. "Okay, enough!"

"That's not all. Randy the cashier? He's skimming from the register. Judge Myers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit. Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home." I informed. "What's your point?" Dean asked me. "My point is I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. I have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up. And then it's Tuesday again." I explained, exhausted.

"Dog." I muttered as we walked down the street and the dog barks. "There's gotta be some way out of this." Dean said as I muttered. "Where's my dang keys?"

We pass Mr. Pickett as he yells. "Where's my dang keys?"

I stepped aside as the blonde woman starts to walk by. Then Dean puts out a hand to stop me. "Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?" Dean asked as he goes back to Blonde Girl. "'scuse me, Miss!" He called out and I stare after him, shocked. "No." I said as Blonde Girl gives Dean one of her papers.

"Hundred Tuesdays and you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" Dean asked me as he comes back over to me. I shrug as Dean holds up the flyer. "It's the guy who went missing." He said and I stare at the name DEXTER HASSELBACK under the picture from the newspaper clipping. "Yeah?" I said. "That's his daughter back there." Dean said and I grab the flyer and run after Blonde Girl. "Ma'am?" I called out then I hear the dog growling and barking at Dean.

"Hey buddy! Somebody need a friend? Good boy-aaah!" Dean said before he yells in pain and I closed my eyes in exasperation.

The next day, Dean and I were back at the diner and I was on the laptop while he was eating. "So the police report says Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is." I said. "What is he?" Dean asked. "I talked to his daughter. Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog. He writes about tourist attractions. Mystery spots, UFO crash sites-he gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here." I said and I turn the laptop to face Dean.

"Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior? More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me." Dean grumbles. "Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written, and he must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself." I remarked and Dean chuckles a bit. "When'd you have time to do all this research?" He asked me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Come on." I grumbled and then I pack up the laptop. We get up and Dean laughs.

"What?" I asked Dean. "I just, it's just funny, you know, I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes into one. It's kinda poetic, you know, just desserts." Dean said. "You're right, that is just desserts." I said but then I notice the abandoned plate; it has a partial pancake and pink syrup. Which is odd as I've seen this man only get maple syrup and now he has used a different syrup.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as I watch the man walk by the diner windows. "Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?" I said, suspicious. "It's a free country. Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?" Dean asked. "Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except me." I said in a low voice.

The next Tuesday, I watch the man eat his pancakes while Dean eats his breakfast. "So you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?" Dean asked me. "Eat your breakfast." I tell him then the Man leaves and I go to follow him. "What's in the bag?" Dean calls out after me as he follows me. 

The Man walks down the street until I grab him, slam him into the fence, and put the tip of a wooden stake at his throat. "Hey!" the man exclaimed but I glare at him. "I know who you are. Or should I say, what." I growled while the man looks at me, terrified. "Oh my God, please don't kill me." He pleads. "Uh, (y/n)?" Dean said but I stand my ground.

"It took me a hell of a long time but I got it." I said. "What?" the man asked. "It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts-your kind loves that, don't they?" I asked with a growl. "Yeah, sure, okay." The Man said as he glances nervously at the stake. "Just put the stake down!"

"(y/n), maybe you should--" Dean started to say but I yell over him. "No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops-in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster." I said. "Miss, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space-" he exclaims but I shake my head.

"Don't lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!" I yelled then the look on the man's face went from terrified to smug. "Actually, sweetheart, you didn't." The man said then he turns into that Trickster we dealt with months ago.

My eyes widen at this before I glared at him. "Why are you doing this?" I asked him, angrily. "You're joking, right? You Chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this? Even if you are one short." He said with a chuckle. "And Hasselback, what about him?" Dean asked and the Trickster smirks. "That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." He said before he laughs.

"Then you two showed up. I made you the second you hit town." he explains. "So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?" I asked. "One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, (y/n). Watching your boyfriend die, every day? Forever?" he asked and I start to shake in anger.

"You son of a bitch." I growled. "How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your boyfriend. Neither can Sam. No matter what." Trickster said. "Oh yeah? I kill you, this all ends now." I said as I push the stake closer to him. "Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear." He said.

"You're lying." I growled. "If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner." He said. I look at Dean, then back at the Trickster. "No. Easier to just kill you." I said. "Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." He said then he snaps his fingers.

Better promise me I'll be back in time

Gotta get back in time

My eyes snap open and see that I'm in the hotel again. I sit up and see Dean standing by the sink. "What, you gonna sleep all day?" he asked me and I look at the radio, confused. "No Asia." I said. "Yeah, I know. This station sucks." Dean grumbles and I stare at the clock radio. It says WED.

"It's Wednesday!" I gasp. "Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, will you?" Dean asked me as I grin. "What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?" I asked, happily. "No. How many Tuesdays did you have?" Dean asked me as I throw a long-sleeved shirt over my tank top. "I don't know. I lost count." I replied then look over at him.

"Hey, wait. What do you remember?" I asked him. "I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday and then I remember running into the Trickster. But no, that's about it." He replied. "All right. Pack your stuff, let's get the hell out of town. Now." I said. "No breakfast?" He asked me. "No breakfast." I said then I lean up to him and kiss him on the lips.

Minutes later, Dean went out to load up the Impala while I packed up my stuff. All I could think of was how glad I was gonna be when I get out of this hellhole until I heard a gunshot.

My heart stopped and I whip my head towards the door. "Dean!" I screamed as I hurried out of the room and down the motel exterior stairs. I run to Dean and see that he is on his side on the asphalt, blood on his shirt. "No, no, no no no, hey, hey, come on, not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today, come on-" I cry as I kneel down and hold him. Then I realize that Dean isn't moving.

I close my eyes and wait then open my eyes, but Dean is still dead. "I'm supposed to wake up." I whispered, tearfully, then tears pour down my face and I bury my head into his chest and cry.

Six Months Later

It's (y/n). Leave me a message. 

(Y/n)? It's Bobby. Heard about that demon thing you took care of in Death Valley. Nice job. Been about three months we talked, though. Be nice to hear your voice. Give a call. I'm here.

(Y/n)? It's Sam. Look, I'm worried about you. Just tell me you're not sitting alone somewhere obsessing over this damn Trickster. Call me, (y/n). We can find it together. You, me and Bobby. No one person should take something like this on alone. You hear me? By the way, Bobby wanted me to tell you that you did a hell of a job with that vampire nest in Austin.

(Y/n)? It's Bobby. We found him.

I walked into the Mystery Spot building to see Bobby kneeling on the floor turning the pages of a book, which is dead center of a chalked diagram with three candles and three bowls of unidentified substances. Sam was standing by him. They hear me come in and they turn to me, a look of relief on their faces.

"It's good to see you." Bobby said as he stands up. Sam goes to hug me but I don't respond to his hug. He pulls out of the hug and Bobby hugs me too.

"What are we doing here, guys?" I asked them. "Well, it's the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic." Sam explained and I shrug. "So?" I muttered. "So you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here." Bobby exclaims and I sighed.

"What do we need?" I asked them. "Blood." Sam replied. "How much blood?" I asked him. "Ritual says near a gallon. And it's gotta be fresh, too." Bobby explains. "Meaning we have to bleed a person dry." Sam added. "And it's gotta be tonight. Or not for another fifty years." Bobby finished and I nod at them. 

"Then let's go get some." I said and turn to leave. But I noticed that neither of them had moved so I turned back to them. "You break my heart, kid." Bobby mutters. "What?" I asked. "We're not gonna let you murder an innocent man." Sam said. "Then why'd you bring me here?" I asked, angrily. "Why? Because it was the only way you'd see us! Because we're trying to knock some sense into you! Because we thought you'd back down from killing a man!" Bobby yelled.

"Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself." I said as I start to turn but then Sam grabs my arm. "I told you, we're not gonna let you kill a man." Sam said then I turn back to him and shouted. "It's none of your damn business what I do!"

Bobby and Sam look taken aback by this as Sam let's my arm go. "You want Dean back so bad?" Bobby asked as he leans down and pulls a knife out of his bag and holds it up to me. "Fine." He growls and I eyed the knife. "What are you talking about?" I asked him. "Better me than a civilian." Bobby said as holds the knife out to me. 

"You're crazy, Bobby." Sam said and I shake my head a bit. "He's right.  I'm not killing you." I said. "Oh, now I'm the crazy one. Look, (y/n), I'm old, I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you and Sam can keep fighting. Saving folk. But you two need Dean. Let me get him back to you." Bobby said.

"Bobby-" I said, roughly, but he shakes his head. "You, Sam and Dean, you three are the closest thing I have to family. I wanna do this." He said. I stare at the knife then over at Sam, who looks a bit uncomfortable. He shrugs and shakes his head before I look back at Bobby and take the knife. "Okay." I muttered. "Good." Bobby said and he turns around and goes to his knees.

"Just make it quick." he said but I wait. "Do it, (y/n)." he said. "Yeah, okay, Bobby." I muttered as I put the knife away. "But you wanna know why?" I asked him and I pull out a stake, grab Bobby around the throat and shove the stake through his back. The tip comes out Bobby's chest. "(Y/n)!" Sam yelled, shocked, but I ignore him. "Because you're not Bobby." I growled as I twist the stake, blood spurting out of the wound.

Bobby goes still and falls forward after I let go of him, then stare at Bobby's corpse. "(Y/n), what the hell?!" Sam asked me as I watch Bobby's corpse but nothing happens. "Bobby? Bobby! Bobby!" I called out, fearing that I had made a mistake.

But then Bobby's corpse vanishes and the stake falls over, then shoots over next to me. I turn to see that the Trickster was standing where Sam was just a moment ago. "You're right. I was just screwing with you. Pretty good, though, (y/n). Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket. Now I'm starting to think how Sam would've reacted!" He exclaimed as I glared at him.

"Bring him back." I said through my gritted teeth. "Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak." He said, smiling. "Just take us back to that...Wednesday-when it all started." I said and he raises an eyebrow. "Please. We won't come after you, I swear." I pleaded, my voice cracking. 

"You swear." He said and I nod then he acts like he's thinking. "I don't know. Even if I could--" He said. "You can." I said, interrupting him. "True. But that don't mean I should. (Y/n), there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that thick skull of yours." He said. "Lesson? What lesson?" I asked him.

"This obsession to save Dean? The way you, Sam and Dean keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, (y/n). Sometimes you just gotta let people go." said the Trickster. 

"He's the man I love." I said. "Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him." he said, shrugging. "Please. Just-please." I pleaded and he sighs in exasperation. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it." He said and I furrow my brow at him.

"Meaning what?" I asked him. "Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out." He said then he snaps his fingers.

Promise me I'll be back in time

Gotta get back in time

My eyes snap open and saw that I was back at the hotel. Then I sit up and see Dean standing by the bathroom sink. 'What, you gonna sleep all day?" He asked as I stare at him then around the room in shock. I know, no Asia. This station sucks."  He said and I check the clock radio. It says WED.

"It's Wednesday." I whispered. "Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off." Dean said and I throw off the covers and go to hug him before I kiss him, passionately. "Wow, how many Tuesdays did you have?" He asked me after we break the kiss and he places his hands on my waist. "Enough. What, uh, what do you remember?" I asked.

"I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday. I remember getting up with the Trickster. That's about it." he replied and I nod. "Let's go." I said and he gives me a look. "No breakfast?" He asked. "No breakfast." I stated.

"All right, I'll pack the car." he said but I place a hand on his chest. "Wait, you're not going anywhere alone." I said. "It's the parking lot, (y/n)." He said. "Just-just trust me." I said and he gives a slight nod but I could tell that he still didn't understand.

After getting dressed, I zip up a bag closed just as Dean opens the door, then turns back. "Hey, you don't look so good. Something else happen?" He asked me, concerned. I say nothing for a moment before I swallow. "I just had a really weird dream." I replied, simply. "Clowns or midgets?" He asked and I look up to see him grinning. I try to smile back as Dean picks up his bag and leaves.

I follow before stopping at the door to look back at the unmade bed. I sigh then turn off the light and close the door.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

[hazbinhotelexpansion]

Oh I was BORN to answer your request, prepare for all of my random discord quotes

Are you climbing the inside of the elevator??? ..........maybe

"I want them Zoloft boys"

"ok I think the phone has been in the microwave long enough"

She could run a kingdom, people would listen to her, she's very loud!

I'll sop your wet! ... I'll wet your sop? No, neither of those sound right, joke canceled, goodbye

You know me I love dead people

You want me to go straight to bed? Why not gay to bed???

"this tastes like battery acid, but if battery acid was tasty"

Gusty showers sounds like a terrible name for a retirement community

What happens if you have nipple pasties that just look like nipples? "Then you need nipple pasties for your nipple pasties" Nipple-pasty-ception "Get a bra that looks like boobs and put nipple pasties on that"

Yeah I'm like canonically allergic to chihuahuas in specific

"Jesus told a tree to off itself and then he threw a table"

"am I a Honda or a person?"

"NOW GIVE ME YOUR FACE AND DONT ASK QUESTIONS"

Gasp! Someone cheesed him!

WHY WOULD YOU MAKE MY LITTLE BOY INTO LEMONADE

"using my telekinesis to lift my daughter out of her crib just in time for her father to see her levitating randomly"

"why are we talking about bacon now I thought we were talking about your daddy issues"

I do not have a gender, I have a question

oh pants stopped happening like 30 minutes ago

just calling me Charizard is unhelpful team

I AM THE PICASSO OF MEMES

Ope there goes angel climbing into the China closet again

EVIL JELLO MY NEW GENDER

"I have a *weird* problem, are you ready to hear about my *weird* problem" "always" "my brownies are too oily"

"Before I can own a pigeon, I need to get my bird permit" Your..... Birdmit

It doesn't have to be a bunch of sad white women drinking wine sitting in a rented conference room with a bunch of tables all done up in tablecloths with droopy streamers and half floating balloons

he can be a soft boi *and* a crackhead!!!

"they're Jean shoes" YOU GOT THE FUCKIN JHOES???

Please refrain from happy biting the cannibal

WOOHOO KEVIN GOT BOOPS

Two pigeons, chilling on the sidewalk, five feet apart cause they're not gay

"you're watching a weiner schnitzel be made? Isn't that a dog?"

"she wouldn't hit a cows arse with a banjo"

About husk: probably grumpy enough to overpower catnip by the sheer force of cynicism

About niffty being drunk: she's a spastic caffeinated squirrel in traffic that's just taken a nice long inhale of, uh, snow

no actually I think you're right! I like my impulsive, self destructive behaviors

don't turn yourself into one of those cooked children in the backseat you're always hearing about, Pls don't cook yourself over your trauma

YEAH WE HAVE CHILD LABOR ON THIS BUS!

Mickey mouse voice: you can't spell drunk driving without U and I!

He has the mcdonald's headset of infinite wisdom

*angrily* IM GONNA TURN YOU INTO TREE FOOD

Sudden vox in my head: and now introducing, this.... Fuckin thing..... *gestures to cursed cat alastor on a small runway behind him*

HOPE THESE HELP YOU GUYS IM LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING THE NEW CONTENT!

Friend, I am

CRYING

[ironstrange1991]

Monday

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader x Defender!Strange

Synopsis: The reader has a difficult task ahead: putting Cloaky in the wash and deal with the two men in her life.

Warnings: None, basically just fluff.

Word Count: 2,5k

A/N: I don't know if you can say this has a plot or not, but I had a good time writing this one. Hope you guys like it.

"Why is this so important to you?" Stephen asked Defender for the thousandth time as he sat at the table with a cup of coffee.

It was very early on a Monday. You had woken up before your alarm went off and decided to go downstairs to prepare breakfast. Defender and Stephen came downstairs and found you in the kitchen about a half hour later. The two were still dressed in their pajama pants and t-shirts looking as glorious as ever.

"It's less for me and more a sign of respect for the people of this universe." Defender answered, accepting the cup of coffee you offered him. "The government wants me to identify myself, to have my own ID, so they can distinguish us in some way. I don't see that as a problem."

You brought two plates to the table, one with scrambled eggs and bacon and the other with pancakes that you had finished frying. Stephen barely waited for you to put them on the table to serve himself, which made you smile and lean over to place a kiss on the top of his head.

The two of you were still getting used to having Defender around all the time, but little by little the shyness was giving way and you were starting to be spontaneous around him again, which always got you looks that you didn't quite know what it meant. Jealousy perhaps.

"You don't owe them anything. I don't owe them anything. Everything I've done for this universe seems to be worth nothing to these guys. The less we have to do with them, the better."

Defender rolled his lips but said nothing.

Finally you sat down between the two and served yourself too. "It's just an ID, Stephen. It's not like he's going to sign the Sokovia Accords."

Stephen shook his head, but said nothing, just enjoying his eggs and bacon.

"Besides, I think this has a little to do with you, baby, and I understand. You live here with us now, you need to have your own things and that will only be possible when we regulate your legal situation here."

Defender smiled. "I think you're right, baby."

You finished your breakfast and they helped you organize everything in the kitchen before everyone got ready to leave.

You were finishing getting ready when you heard Defender chuckling and speaking in a tone of voice that was too soft and sugary to be talking to Stephen. You walked slowly down the hallway and stopped in front of his open bedroom door, observing the terrible cute scene: Cloaky had attached itself to his shoulders and was insistently gesturing asking to go with him.

"I'm sure your master has a reason for not taking you with him today." Defender said, still not noticing your presence at the door.

Cloaky vehemently disagreed.

You couldn't help but notice how majestic Defender looked with Cloaky on his shoulders. He was finishing getting dressed, struggling to tie his tie since his shaking hands weren't helping and Cloaky simply didn't want to let go of him.

You and Defender had only been together for a few weeks and everything was still new to you and you were definitely not used to him yet.

"Now come on, before Stephen sees you with me. He won't like it at all." Defender asked gently trying to grab Cloaky by the collar and pull it off his shoulders, but the relic just struggled like a tantrum child which made you giggle, and Defender notice your presence.

"Come on, Cloaky, leave him alone. I'll put you in the washing machine and get this over with. When I get home from work, I promise I'll pay attention to you."

Cloaky let go of Defender's shoulders, but started flying around the room gesturing negatively at you.

You sighed, approaching Defender, and offered to help him with his tie. He agreed eagerly.

You were used to tying Stephen's ties. It was something you always did without putting much thought into it, however the same act with Defender seemed extremely intimate which made his cheeks flush and he swallowed heavily.

You finished by lowering the collar of his shirt and picking up the suit jacket that was carefully hanging on a chair and helping him put it on.

"Thanks." He thanked you with a shy smile and you allowed yourself to admire him. It wasn't common to see him in a suit. In fact, the only time you saw him dressed like that was the first night you went out together.

"You look really good dressed like that." You confessed.

He smirked. "It's not the first time you've said that."

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and he smiled noticing his effect on you. He was about to kiss you when Cloaky flew past your heads and you remembered what you really needed to do, or rather, were trying to do.

"Come on Cloaky, enough of that! It will be me or Stephen who will put you in the wash. You choose, but I have to warn you that he won't be so gentle."

Defender smirked watching the relic float head down towards you throwing itself into your arms in a dramatic act of total surrender.

"It likes you." Defender pointed out. "Smart relic."

You smiled again feeling your cheeks blushing even harder. You were still getting used to Defender's constant praise.

 He cupped your cheeks between his hands and pulled you into a kiss. You could feel the mixture of coffee and toothpaste on his tongue and somehow it was so inviting.

You hummed into his lips and he pulled away glancing at you with what could only be described as adoration.

"I... I need to take it to the washing machine." You said pointing to Cloaky in your arms who had now decided to give you the silent treatment, acting like any other inanimate object stretched out in your arms. As dramatic as Stephen was whenever he was contradicted.

Personally, as a cat person, you thought Cloaky had a lot of cat behaviors and one of them was imitating his owner's demeanor.

Defender nodded. "I'm heading to Washington D.C. to sort out my situation with the president. I should be back by nightfall."

You looked at him in surprise. "The president?"

He smirked, "I guess it's not every day he gets the opportunity to meet someone who came from another universe. He asked for a private meeting. Rhodes will be there with me."

You chewed the inside of your cheek, suddenly insecure about everything. What if they decided that Defender couldn't stay? Maybe Stephen was right.

"What is that?" He asked, noticing your hesitation.

You sighed, "I don't trust them."

Defender smiled reassuringly. "They're just curious to get to know me. There is no need to worry, baby. They all know what Stephen Strange is capable of. What all Stephen Stranges are capable of. They won't mess with me."

He leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead. "Now that I've finally found you, I would start a war with the entire universe if they tried to keep me away from you."

You felt your heart racing. "Good. Because now I know that I can't live without you."

"You'll never have to." He promised.

You watched him as he opened a portal to the Avengers Tower where you assumed he would meet Rhodes. He waved goodbye and the portal closed leaving only sparks behind.

"He's really charming, isn't he, Cloaky?" You asked with a silly smile on your lips and feeling weird in your stomach, but the relic remained as still as before.

You heard footsteps hurriedly approaching from behind you and Stephen's voice. "I looked for it all over the place" Stephen said pointing to the relic in your arms.

You chuckled. "We already understand each other, and Cloaky has accepted its fate."

Stephen approached, entering the room and taking a look around.

"He already left." You informed.

Stephen nodded, staring at you as if analyzing some hidden expression on your face and then cupping your cheek. "You really love him, don't you?"

You sighed. "I do."

Stephen smirked. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that. And I love you. You are everything to me, Steph."

Stephen kissed you softly. "I know."

He sighed. "I need to go now. I promised Wong that I would take care of today's training in Defender's place and I'm already late. I can trust it to you, right?" He pointed at Cloaky.

You nodded. "You know you can."

He smiled brightly and kissed you softly. "See you later." He said, opening a portal to the Kamar Taj courtyard and you stood there watching the portal close.

"They're both charming, Cloaky." You said walking towards the stairs.

You put Cloaky in the washing machine with a certain weight in your heart even though you knew deep down that you weren't doing it out of malice but because it was necessary, but still the way the relic simply surrendered to its fate without a fight was heartbreaking.

After ensuring everything was ok, you left the Sanctum for another day of work. A very long day, by the way.

When you returned home you were exhausted and the fact that you were greeted by the silence of the empty Sanctum only made you feel even more discouraged. It was always a strange feeling being there when Stephen wasn't home.

You remembered well that right when you moved in, you were a little scared of being there alone, but of course you never mentioned that to Stephen, he would think it was all nonsense, but you could have sworn at the time that there was something watching you.  You used to feel a presence in the Sanctum all the time and were terrified by the situation. Only after weeks did you come to the conclusion that what gave you that impression were the magical artifacts, some that seemed more alive than you would expect from simple inanimate objects.

However, there was a magical artifact, a relic that you considered much more than just an object or a piece of clothing and that always made you feel welcome. Thinking about that made you smile and you left your bag and keys on the counter and dedicated yourself to looking for Cloaky.

After searching all the rooms downstairs without success, you went up towards the bedrooms and when you reached the hallway you saw the tip of the red fabric entering your room and the door slamming.

You sighed, but your lips curved into a smile. Somehow you felt like you were dealing with a child.

Upon entering the room you found it standing floating near the chair where some of Stephen's clothes were hanging in front of the dresser. Cloaky pointed to the clothes and then imitated the gesture of pointing to the clock.

"He must be arriving." You said walking up to it. "Now let me check on you. I want to make sure you're clean enough."

Cloaky turned around for you to check it out.

"Very well. It wasn't that difficult, was it?"

It crossed its imaginary arms in protest.

"Okay, but now it's over and he'll be here soon. I know you miss him. You’re feeling today what I feel every day."

You walked to the bathroom and Cloaky followed you like a cat.

"Uh hm. No way are you going to stay here and spy me while I take a shower" You scolded. "Wait for me downstairs."

Cloaky left the bathroom with its head down.

After showering, you changed into a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt and went downstairs to prepare something to eat. Finally, you ended up with a bowl of popcorn in front of the TV. Cloaky happily flew over to you when it saw you settle down on the couch and before you could even dare to grab a blanket to cover yourself, it threw itself into your lap covering your legs.

You petted the red fabric affectionately and surrendered to the comfort of being home.

You were on the second episode of your favorite tv show when Stephen arrived. He had barely closed the portal behind him when Cloaky slipped off your lap and flew towards him, immediately attaching itself to his shoulders.

"It missed you." You informed.

Stephen smiled "I miss it too. I feel vulnerable without it."

You smiled watching him for a second. Sometimes you needed to stop and look at Stephen to believe he was actually real. He was far more beautiful than handsome and dressed in his blue robes and trusty cloak, he looked almost divine.

"Defender called me." He informed interrupting your thoughts. "He said the meeting was scheduled for tonight. He'll have some appointments tomorrow. Probably will be here tomorrow night."

“It’s everything okay there?”

Stephen nodded. “He asked me to tell you he is perfectly fine.”

You nodded sighing in relief. "This is important to him. You should support him in this."

Stephen nodded, seeming to weigh his next words. "Are you happy? I mean, with our deal?"

You fidgeted in your seat but ended up responding with another question. "Are you?"

He ran his tongue around the corner of his mouth, thinking for a second before responding. "I wondered how that could be possible, but... yes, I am."

You smiled gesturing for him to come closer and he did so, stopping in front of you towering over you. You held his hand and placed it on your chest so he could feel your heart. "That's how I feel every time I see you. When you come home, when I wake up in the morning and you're lying next to me. With Defender it's the same thing. I love you Stephen Strange and as long as you love me, I'm very happy."

He touched your face and bent down to kiss you softly. "I will always love you, sweetheart."

You smiled, pulling him back to your lips, kissing him with more intensity now, your hands going down his chest, moving slowly towards the fly of his pants, but his hand was faster than yours and he stopped you midway humming a provocative denial.

"I'm going upstairs to take a shower." He informed. "Why don't you order something for us to eat and wait for me here?"

You bit your lower lip "I'm not hungry for food, I want you..." You complained seeing the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk.

"But I am. Very hungry."

You rolled your eyes, teasing him.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I promise I'll give you what you want, just let me regain my strength first. I hate teaching, it makes me extremely tired."

You held his hand and shook it side to side absentmindedly. "Hm maybe you're just getting old."

He raised a slightly offended eyebrow.

"Don't worry, love, I love you anyway." You teased.

He just smiled without bothering to respond to your provocations and walked away up the stairs with his trusty cloak on his shoulders. But you knew you would pay for your comment in a not-so-subtle way. In fact, you were counting on that.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[yourmomxx]

Those Christmas Lights (light up the street)

Dean Winchester x child!reader

Summary: It’s Jack’s first Christmas, you want to get Dean a special present, and Cas makes terrible eggnog

Warnings: 13+, slight kidnapping, slight throwing up, not edited yet

Word Count: 8,5k

A/N: this is my way of wishing you all a very merry Christmas! whether you’re celebrating today, tomorrow, or in January (or any other day) - merry christmas and also a happy new year!

It was on a Sunday when you decided that you wanted to celebrate Christmas this year. You were looking through some old boxes, when you came across an ornament you made with Ellen and Jo back when you lived at the Roadhouse.

It was a colorful star folded out of red and yellow colored paper. It spun back and forth on a golden thread as you held it up.

When you were still celebrating, before you moved into the bunker with Sam and Dean, and all the holidays kind of faded into the background. You looked at the slightly crumpled star. Maybe it was time to revive some traditions.

As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by the smell of fried bacon and eggs and the sight of the Winchester brothers, who seemed to have been awake a little longer. Or hadn't slept at all.

As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by the smell of fried bacon and eggs and the sight of the Winchester brothers, who seemed to have been awake a little longer. Or hadn't slept at all.

The equivalent of blooming life as Dean, seated on the table, stared into his half-filled cup as if the black coffee in it would give him back his lost sleep. Sam was standing by the sink, scrubbing a clean plate in circular motions - and had been for several minutes.

It seemed like yesterday's hunt had demanded a lot from both of them. You cautiously entered the kitchen and waited for them to notice you. But both seemed caught up in their own tired thoughts, which is why you cleared your throat to draw attention to yourself. Sam's head shot up while Dean only slowly turned his in the bare minimum to signal that he knew you were here.

"I was thinking," you began, and Dean snorted into his cup as he lifted it to his lips. "That doesn't sound good."

You ignored him and continued talking undeterred. "I think we should celebrate Christmas this year."

Sam stopped in his bid to wash the plate and eyed you. "Christmas?" he asked and you nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"What makes you think of that now?" Dean's sleepy-sluggish voice came from the kitchen table.

"First of all, I think we need a break," you explained as you sat down across from Dean at the kitchen table. "And second, that would be Jack's first Christmas. He would experience something other than the torment that the world has to bring, but more - joy and warmth. I think we owe him that.”

Dean frowned. "First of all," he said, sort of mocking you, and raising his index finger, "we don't need a break. We're fine.”

You shot him a look. "If Sam keeps scrubbing that plate over there, it's going to have a hole in it eventually."

The dishes rattled as Sam put his plate on the pile next to the sink.

"And second, Jack has it great with us," Dean continued, ignoring your comment.

"Mm-hm, sure," you said in a sarcastic tone. "I'm sure the end of the world and the inheritance of Lucifer was nothing short of a dream from a first year of life."

Dean just shrugged and took another sip from his cup.

"I'm not even talking about a big Christmas," you tried to argue further, "It doesn't have to involve gifts, or Elf on the Shelf, or anything like that. Just some decorations, and a tree, and maybe some nice food. That's it."

You gave both of them pleading looks, but a little more to Sam because he was always a bit easier to convince for such things than your father.

Sam cleared his throat and reached for the next plate to clean it. "I mean, the idea doesn't sound that bad," he said, and a smile spread across your lips.

But Dean's head was spinning so fast you thought he was going to snap his neck.

“That’s coming from you?”, he asked incredulously, "what happened to your whole 'I hate holidays of any kind' attitude?"

Sam shrugged and looked down at his dishes like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Y/N is right. We could probably use a break. And treat Jack to something that doesn't put him in danger or involve hunting something? Doesn't sound so bad."

Dean looked at his brother like he just told him he fucked an archangel. He narrowed his eyes hard once, then slowly turned back to you and took another sip of his coffee. "Then the verdict was well passed," he murmured dramatically.

You smiled and banged your flat hands on the table in excitement. "Thank you!" you said happily and jumped up. "I'll tell Jack." And with that you were out of the kitchen again.

Dean waited until he was sure you were out of earshot, then turned to Sam. "Not a bad idea? What happened to you?”

Sam ignored his brother and began to put the plates back in the shelves. In the process, he had to move some misplaced cups and bowls out of the way. Apparently Castiel had cleared out the dishwasher again.

"We've got two kids here now, Dean," Sam said. "Although one of them looks more like a twenty-two year-old, but still." He closed the cabinet doors and made his way out of the kitchen.

"Don't ruin the Christmas spirit, Dean!" he called out.

"The Christmas spi- Since when are you interested in Christmas?" Dean was outraged, but Sam couldn't - or didn't want to - hear him anymore.

—

Dean Winchester was a complicated man about a lot of things. Feelings, interpersonal relationships, trust, feelings. But he was definitely simple in one thing: his interests.

In your opinion, Dean Winchester could be described as a nerd, even if you would never tell him that to his face. That was a realization you made to yourself at one point and one that you would keep to yourself.

But this realization made it easy for you to choose a gift for him. Yes, you said no presents this Christmas, but that wasn't a rule, more a persuasion tactic to get Sam and Dean to celebrate it with you.

But secretly you knew exactly what you would get Dean. And you knew where to get it, too, but you'd have to sneak away from the watchful eyes of your family first. Under a good pretext, of course. And you actually already had it.

With a small cloth bag on your shoulder, for money and later the gift you would come back with, you entered the Crows Nest, where Dean and Cas sat bent over a piece of paper - actually, Cas stood - and were discussing something.

Dean looked up when he saw you coming and eyed the bag with suspicion. "Where are you going?"

You stopped just short of the stairs up. "Buy a Christmas tree," you lied, "I figured better late than never."

A few days had passed since you had had the conversation with Sam and Dean in the kitchen, and the subject of Christmas hadn't been explicitly brought up since.

The bunker still had its old, undecorated glory (if you could call it that) and from the looks of it, Dean was already keeping his eyes out for a new hunt.

You could tell from the brief, confused look that flitted across his face when you said the words "Christmas" and "tree" to him, but he skilfully covered it up with a clearing of his throat.

"That's right, there was something," he said and you raised your eyebrows. Just as you were about to go up the stairs, you heard Dean's voice say, "Take Jack with you."

You stopped abruptly and slowly turned in the direction of your father, who was looking up at you together with the angel.

"Jack?" you repeated questioningly. "Why that?"

Not that you had a problem with that, no, no. But the thing is, you wanted to buy a secret gift for Dean, and Jack, well. He wasn't very good with secrets. Not even on purpose. But the ability to distinguish relevant information to be released from information that should be kept private was sometimes difficult for him.

Dean leaned back in his chair. "Well, you said that one of the reasons that you suddenly went all Whoville was because you wanted to show Jack the good side of life. So take him with you. Buy a Christmas tree.”

Cas next to him nodded. "I think that sounds like a very good idea too."

Dean pointed to Cas behind him and made a face that clearly said ‘See?’.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and protest as you reluctantly tramped back down the stairs and set off in search of the Nephilim.

When the heavy door of the bunker closed again a few minutes later behind the two of you, Cas turned a little critically to Dean and asked: "What did you mean when you talked about Christmas?"

"Huh?" Dean only looked up briefly from the spell they had been eyeing before he understood Cas' question and gave his attention back to the piece of paper.

“Ah yes, Y/N got it in their head that we really need to celebrate Christmas this year. Something about we need a break and Jack needs to get to know the good things in life. That whole crap.” He waved it off and read an ingredient out loud. "Lamprocapnos spectabilis. What's that supposed to mean? If witches write stuff like that, then please do it in a way that I don't need a doctor's degree to understand all of it!"

"But if today is Christmas Eve," Cas continued, without paying much attention to Dean's tantrum, "Why do you not see that anywhere here?" He looked around. "Excuse my bluntness, but I think it looks as barren as ever."

Dean put his head in his hands and stifled a groan. "That's because nobody has hung anything up yet, Cas," he growled to the angel.

Ca's frown deepened. "But why? If Y/N wishes-"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Cas, but we've been a little busy kicking the devil's ass back to hell lately, so sorry if I don't put myself in white and red dress-up and hop around shouting Ho-Ho-Ho!”

Castiel rolled his shoulders back and cocked his chin. His eyes sparkled angrily. "Dean,” he said, “Your child has never asked for anything before. Only ever did what you wanted to keep you satisfied. I think you can grant them this one wish.”

Dean wanted to say something, but Cas had already turned away and headed for the library. "Now if you'll excuse me, I will go find Sam and look for something to decorate with him. So we can celebrate Christmas.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Dean alone in the Crows Nest, parchment still on the table and head thrown back in annoyance.

—

While the adults stayed back in the bunker, you and Jack had taken it upon yourselves to pick a fitting Christmas tree. You had taken the Impala to a nearby village, which’s advertisement told you that you would find some here.

Now you were following the written signs, Jack trailing slightly behind you.

“What are we even looking for in a Christmas tree?” Jack suddenly asked and you shrugged.

“Well, nothing specific, really. Just a tall pine tree, which we will put in the bunker and then we’ll decorate it with some ornaments, tinsel, and maybe candy canes.”

“What are those?”

“What are what?”

“Candy canes. What are those?”

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to Jack with a look of disbelief on your face. “You don’t- you don’t know what candy canes are?” You asked.

Jack frowned. “No,” he said.

“But you know about punch, right?” You asked. “And candied apples? And roasted almonds?”

Jack’s frown deepened and turned into a thinking pout. “No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t believe it. Jack Kline, the nephilim, the most powerful being in this universe, was standing in front of you and telling you he didn’t know the most important elements of a successful Christmas time.

Then again, his multi-dimensional knowledge maybe didn’t apply to the nostalgic beings of life.

Curtly, you took Jack’s hand and began pulling him after you. “Well then it’s about time I introduce you.”

“And what about the Christmas tree?” Jack asked. “I think they’ll survive if it reaches the bunker a few hours later,” you calmed him down. And with that, you took course towards a constellation of small huts, with crowds of people standing around and chattering, an excited Jack Kline in tow.

—

Annoyed and yet willing - as you know him - Dean Winchester stood on a long ladder and tied a few loose fir branches to the banister with some wool, which Sam hung with small bells.

It had taken a few hours, and yet they had made it.

“Wow Sam, the decoration we found in your room was indeed enough,” Castiel praised as he admired a wreath hanging from the archway.

Sam smiled and tied one last bell in a pine branch. Then he handed it to Dean.

"I still think we should hang up mistletoe," Sam said conspiratorially and Dean almost fell off the ladder.

"No," the older one decided firmly when he'd recovered. "Absolutely not."

When he wasn't looking, Sam mocked him with grimaces. "Alright, Grinch," he murmured under his breath and got an "I heard that!" thrown at him by his older brother.

Sam shook his head nonchalantly, preferring to step back to survey the work they'd done. Glittering garlands with bows hung over the individual exits from the crows nest, and small wreaths could be seen here and there on the doors. The dancing branches that Dean was hanging up were made from found branches and some loose decorations that they had found in Sam's box.

All in all it didn't look too bad. Dean himself was surprised what his little brother had hidden in his room.

“So” The older one finally climbed down from the ladder and looked at his work on the banister. "Not too bad," he stated, and Sam also knew that this would be the highest level of enthusiasm for the decoration that Dean would show them.

"When we're done here," Castiel said, a slight smile curling his lips, "then I would retire to the kitchen for a little while. I still have work to do there." Before either brother could react, he was gone again.

"Hate it when he does that," Dean gruntled, but proceeded to quietly put the ladder away.

—

Some time and many market stalls later, Jack and you were standing around a small, round table, steaming cups of punch set on the wooden surface in front of you.

Children's punch, of course - non-alcoholic. After all, 50% of those present here were not even two years old.

You cautiously took a sip from your mug, Jack was still eyeing his drink suspiciously after burning his tongue from the hot liquid just a moment earlier.

Seeing how effortlessly you drank, he finally dared to take a small sip, and noticing that the punch had cooled further, he took a larger one. You smiled at him as he put the cup down again and licked his lips with relish. His had a little angel printed on it - which you personally thought was very fitting.

"So," you asked, "Did you enjoy the little Christmas tour?" Jack grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"And these are all Christmas traditions?" he asked and you nodded. "Yep. That and Santa Claus putting presents under the tree for the good kids on Christmas Eve.” you sighed. “But that's just a tale parents tell their little kids. And as you get older, you realize that it was the adults all along and a bit of the magic is gone."

Jack frowned. "So you know that Santa Claus doesn't exist?"

You nodded "Yes."

“Then, why do you want to celebrate Christmas so badly?” Jack asked, curious.

You lowered your gaze and ran your finger along the side of the mug. Suddenly the little reindeer drawn on it seemed incredibly interesting.

“I don’t know,” you said. But that was a lie. And Jack wasn’t stupid, he knew that. But he didn’t say anything, he just tilted his head slightly.

There was a moment of silence between you two.

“It’s just,” you said, “when I was still living at the Roadhouse, Dean would always visit somewhere around Christmas.” You smiled at the memory.

“When Jo first taught me how to fold stars out of paper, I did it all the time, for everyone. And a second time. And when Dad came by, I made him the most stars out of all. I knew he was always on the road, so I wanted to give him as many things as possible to remember me by. So he wouldn’t forget about me.”

You did your best to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat. “I made him the stars every year. Even if he stopped to come by at some point."

There was that silence again, only this time Jack clearly noticed your dejection and did what he had always seen Cas do when Dean wasn't feeling well.

He reached forward and gently placed his hand on yours. You gave him a grateful smile and he returned it.

Then suddenly, you sniffled once and brushed some loose hair away from your face. "But whatever. Christmas is just my favorite holiday in general.” You took a deep breath, making your shoulders rise and fall, and closed your eyes. “Just the warmth of a nicely decorated house or a nice punch when it's cold outside. There’s something about it."

Jack simply agreed with you on that. He couldn't confirm it himself, so he just trusted you on that point.

You quickly downed the last of your punch and encouraged Jack to do the same. "Come on, drink up. We still have to go somewhere."

Jack did as ordered and you brought back the two cups and received the deposit.

"Let's get a Christmas tree now?" Jack asked excitedly, but you shook your head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have to get something else first."

"What then?" He asked.

"My present for my Dad."

"But you said no gifts?"

"It wasn't a rule, it was a necessary evil. But-” You pulled out your phone to double-check the exact address of the store. "I found something really great for him."

"What is it?" Jack sounded almost as excited as you felt, and that excitement was the reason you told him. "You know how much Dean loves Batman, right? And cars?" Jack nodded.

"Well, I scoured my friend, the good old internet, and found someone selling a miniature Batmobile!" You told him giddily.

Jack looked confused and it only struck you now that he probably didn't even know what the Batmobile was.

"It’s the car Batman drives." You explained. "Aaah," Jack went, and you could practically see the realization forming on his face as his eyes widened and his mouth opened in amazement.

“And why only a mini version?” he asked further. "Is that a toy car?"

Ouch. Would Dean have heard that now. "No Jack, it's not a toy car" you told him clearly. "It's a collector's item."

“Why would you want to collect small cars?”

You sighed loudly. "I don't know Jack, ask any man over thirty-five."

Jack was about to ask something else, but to your rescue, the small alarm sounded on your cell phone, signaling that you had reached your destination. You stopped and eyed the shop.

It was relatively small, and surrounded by other bright shops, decorated all around with Christmas decorations, it also looked a bit deserted. Miller's Antiques was written in large letters on a sign above the front door. You exchanged a look with Jack. He seemed just as skeptical.

"Well, it won't be that bad," you said, not sure if you were trying to encourage Jack or yourself.

A small bell rang as you opened the door inward.

Jack always stayed behind you, as you entered the small building. It was actually a bit gloomy in here, the shelves, some filled to the ceiling with objects, seemed to keep all the sunlight from falling in. The only source of unnatural light was a shadeless lightbulb suspended in the middle of the room.

"Hello?" You asked into the silence, but there was no answer.

That's how every horror movie starts, you thought, and an uneasy feeling crept in. But no, now you had come so far, you would still manage these last few meters. Just give him the money, take the car, done. And then get out of here as soon as possible.

At the other end of the room was a counter. You and Jack approached it and you tentatively rang the little bell that stood there.

A moment passed, then another, until a slightly older man appeared from behind a curtain that apparently led to the warehouse, and stood at the counter.

"Can I help?" he asked, in a high yet raspy voice. Maybe a smoker, you thought. Or a Broadway singer with severely strained vocal cords.

"My name is Winchester, Y/N," you replied. "We emailed?" He seemed to think for a moment. "Ah yes, of course, Winchester," he finally recalled. "About the car, right?"

"Yes, exactly."

The lanky man leaned to the side a little and eyed Jack up and down with suspicion. "And who is this?"

Before you could reply, Jack had taken a step forward and raised his hand in greeting. "Hello," he said, "my name is Jack Kline. It's nice to meet you."

"He's a family friend," you added as the shop owner raised his eyebrow. "I see," he then murmured, turning back to you.

"You have the money with you?" You rummaged in your bag and held the wallet in front of his eyes.

"Good, good," he said, taking the curtain in his hand. "Then come with me. I put that somewhere back here."

Absolutely not. "Actually that's okay, we'll just wait here until you come back."

The man grinned. “Don't worry. I do not bite." You couldn't see Jack smiling behind you, and just as you were about to protest further, the boy squeezed past you with a "You're right" and followed the man behind the curtain.

You clenched your jaw. You really needed to give this guy some kidnapping avoidance tutoring. Nevertheless, especially because you no longer had a choice, you also stepped forward into the darkened room.

"Jack?" you asked. "Mr Miller?"

But no answer came.

Worried, you went to search the room when you felt something hurt terribly on the back of your head, and at the same moment everything went black.

—

In the meantime in the Bunker, there was a festive Christmas smell coming from the kitchen. Dean dismissed the smell somewhat suspiciously, because "After all, it's Cas," he had told Sam. "He doesn’t eat, how is he supposed to cook something?"

Also, the fact that he had been in there for a while made Dean a little uncomfortable. Not that he broke anything. Or would char. Not in his kitchen.

Hopefully he didn't misclassify the knives. As much as Dean loved him, he wouldn't forgive that.

When Cas then finally entered the library, he carried a wooden tray in front of him. On it were several glasses with a yellow-creamy liquid in them.

Sam and Dean raised their gazes and looked surprised first to the drinks, and then to Cas. "What do you have there, Cas?" Sam asked, trying to peer into the glasses.

"Glad you asked," Castiel said. "This is Egg Nog. I've heard it's a Christmas tradition among humans, so I thought I'd up the ante on the Christmas cheer."

He held out the tray to the two of them. "Try it."

The brothers each grabbed a glass from the tray and took a long gulp of the Christmas drink. Dean's eyes clenched and widened again and Sam's eyebrows shot up. As they put the glasses back down, Castiel asked, "How is it?"

"Mm-hm," Dean said, mouth still full, thumbs up. Sam did the same.

Castiel smiled contentedly. "Well then. I'll put the rest aside so we have enough supplies. And also for Y/N and Jack when they come back.” With that, he turned around and disappeared from the library again towards the kitchen with his tray in hand.

The moment he was out of sight, Dean pulled the closest plant to him and spat the contents out of his mouth into the pot, Sam did the same with his glass.

Dean wiped his mouth. "I have the feeling that Cas read a bottle and a half instead of a cup and a half of rum," he said in disgust.

Sam looked over at him. "Isn't that like a normal dose for you?"

Dean looked at the glass as if it had just bitten his finger. "Not all at once, no," he replied. "But we don't have to tell Cas that." With that, he poured the remaining contents of the glass into the plant pot and turned back to his laptop and the show he was watching.

Zoe was about to break up with Wade and Cas' performance had interrupted the dramatic moment. That was also something he wouldn't tell him.

He had just resumed the series, when Sam felt like he had to interrupt him.

"Tell me, did you get Y/N's gift yet?" he asked. Annoyed, Dean pressed the pause button again and pulled his headphones out of his ears.

"What now?"

"Y/N's present," Sam repeated. "You know, wrapped in colored paper, with a bow-"

"I know what a present is," Dean interrupted abruptly. "But why should I have gotten one for Y/N? They specifically said no gifts.”

Sam sighed. "Dean," he began. Sometimes he thought his brother was a lost cause in this area. "Y/N is your child. And regardless of whether they have a no-gift rule or not, it would be right to give them something anyway. Especially after what has happened the last few years.”

"What's happened in the last few years," Dean grumbled lowly. "I don't even know what to get them!" he followed behind, already a little desperate. Sam had made him nervous.

But the younger one just shrugged. "Neither do I. You probably know them best of all of us.”

That ended the conversation for Sam. And he left behind, sitting opposite him, a thinking Dean Winchester, who still had to find a Christmas present from somewhere. And at best, before you came back, which, unfortunately for him, wouldn't be a very long time. After all, how much time would buying a Christmas tree take?

—

When you woke up, at first you thought you were still unconscious. It took your eyes a while to adjust to the darkness around you and to work with what little light came through a dirty little window.

Slowly but surely, individual silhouettes stood out from the darkness and you recognized furniture, walls, pillars. Now that you thought about it, this looked like a basement. The pillars to support a house and all the junk that was just dumped here because it wasn't needed anymore.

With the realization, a throbbing pain in the back of your head set in. You wanted to raise your hand to grab the spot, but you couldn't. With a groan of frustration, you realized that your hands were tied with ropes around one of the pillars, and it felt pretty tight. Great. At least you were tied so you could sit down.

"Jack?" you asked into the silence, having an odd déjà-vu. Then it popped into your head. The antique shop. Your dad's gift. And the shady man that Jack had so willingly followed behind the curtain.

"Y/N?" came a hesitant voice, and your heart lifted. "Thank the gods you're fine," you sighed.

You still didn't know who this man was or what he wanted exactly. But if he tied you and Jack here together, then maybe he didn't even know he was a Nephilim.

Was it your last name? Did he have a grudge against the Winchesters? Or thought he could lure Sam and Dean out by capturing you? Or Cas with Jack?

Wouldn't be the first time.

The pounding in the back of your head slowly diminished. The blow didn't seem to have been too hard. Which meant you probably hadn't been unconscious for very long either. And yet you thought about it.

"Well, hello!" suddenly sounded a voice. A high, yet scratchy one. Either a smoker or a former Broadway star. The voice of the man who locked you in here.

"Miller," you spat. He stopped in front of you and grinned down at you. Only now did you notice that he held a pistol in his right hand. Swell.

"Good morning sunshine!" he chirped. "Sleep well?" He didn't wait for an answer from you, just kept talking. "I apologize for the inconvenience, please understand, we are not a star hotel here, but I made the best of it."

You clenched your jaw and gave him murderous looks.

"Who are you? Why are you doing all this?” Jack called from behind you and you tried to put your hand on his to signal 'shut up'. But it was too late. Miller's attention shifted to Jack until he was standing in front of him as well.

"Why am I doing this?" he repeated, still grinning. "Why, for the money of course!" That's when he licked his lips and looked back at you angrily.

“And most people are so totally fine with getting their pieces delivered. By post. You tell them you have something that they want, one of Britney Spears’ gel nails, the scarf that Niki Lauda wore at his first race …” He trailed off. You made a face. “And the bottom line is: I get the money, but these people never get their product. That's the way it works."

He lazily pointed his gun towards you.

"But no, not you," he continued scornfully. "You wanted to come by personally. Get a Batmobile collectible.” He cracked a dirty laugh. “So I had to improvise! That is why, both of you, are sitting here, tied up." He shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn't my first option, but I had to think fast."

You were confused. What the guy said made some sense, but only if one piece of the puzzle in your story was wrong.

"The money? internet fraud? What-" you cut yourself off as you came to a realization. “Wait, are you- human?”

Now it was Miller's turn to be confused. "Uh yeah? And newsflash, you are too?”

"So, you're no demon?" You continued to ask. "Shapeshifter, vampire, anything?"

"No, I- what the hell are you even talking about?" He looked at Jack as if he had all the answers ready for him.

"Ugh," you groaned, banging your head against the pillar behind you. Which in hindsight probably wasn't such a smart idea, because now it was hurting again.

"You're telling me we got overrun by some common white guy?" Embarrassing. If your dad found out! Holy hell.

But Miller seemed duly indignant at your report. "Well, I beg you pardon," he said. "I think I did pretty well for a beginner." He shrugged.

"Now that I think about it, it's actually kind of a shame. I've grown fond of you two. Especially you, cowboy.” He pointed the pistol at Jack.

"You seem so easy."

"And now?" Jack asked, with as much contempt in his voice as he could muster. "Are you going to kill us?"

Miller's eyes widened in mock horror. "Kill you?" he asked. "Oh no, no, no. I'm not a murderer. And it's Christmas.” He smiled, and you didn't like it at all.

"No, you just stay here. For a while. A couple of days. Nobody ever comes down into this cellar. And if you starve to death, well.” He sighed in faked wistfulness. "Then I call that a very tragic end to two young lives."

"That's a lot worse than just shooting us," you pointed out and the man rolled his eyes. "Teens and their smartasses," he murmured.

"Well then," he said, stamping his foot briefly. "I'm getting back to work. You two, have a good time down here. And don't even try yelling, the doors are pretty thick.” He waved goodbye before turning and heading up the stairs. "Until then!"

You wriggled indignantly in your bonds. "Good, then leave us here!" You yelled after him. "But if the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future come to take you, I will not save you, Mr Scrooge!"

The thunder of the heavy steel door signaled his absence and you slumped back into your still position.

"Mr Scrooge?" You grimaced. "That was the best I could do?"

"Y/N," Jack's voice came from across the pillar. "How do we get out of here?"

You thought.The adults didn't have a clue where you were, and due to the defensive sigils on your ribs and Jack's powers, Castiel couldn't track you.

Jack's Powers!

"Jack, you have to break these bonds!" you begged him.

It was quiet for a moment. "I- I don't know how." Jack's voice sounded small and scared from the other side, and you felt almost bad for pressuring him like that.

"I know it scares you, Jack," you coaxed him. “But we won't get out of here otherwise. I didn't take any of my knives, I wasn't prepared for that. Our dads don't know where we are. You're the only one who can save us and get us home, Jack. Please."

He still hesitated. "I believe in you," you continued to encourage him. “You can do this. Call it a Christmas miracle. It will work and you won't hurt me."

You felt your hands getting warmer. But it wasn't warmth, like from a flame or a fireplace, no, it was pure energy. Pure and pulsating, it emanated from Jack's hands and in the next instant, the bonds were loose.

You jumped up to help Jack up too, only to feel the consequences as your head started pounding again.

"See?" you smiled at him. "Christmas Miracle." A small, proud smile played on Jack's lips as well as he looked at his hands.

A loud bang sounded moments later as the heavy door was thrown off its hinges. You clambered over it, and followed a few more spiraling stairs up to the back room where Miller knocked you down earlier.

Carefully, you and Jack crept between the stuffed shelves until you reached the black curtain again and slowly pushed it a bit aside.

Almost immediately in front of you, Miller was standing, with his back to you, engrossed in his laptop. Jack took a quick step forward and placed his palm on the back of the man's head, and the next moment he fell unconscious to the ground.

"He's just-" "Unconscious," Jack assured you, taking your hand. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"One moment." You bent down and grabbed Miller's ankles. "We have to do something first. Help me."

Jack grabbed the man under his arms and you both carried him out of the small shop. The bell jingled as the door opened and closed again.

—

In the meantime. several hours had passed. Which was more hours than Dean would have liked. The sun was already low in the sky, and even if they couldn't see it from the bunker, Dean could guess it. He was about a vanishing ray of sunshine away from jerking open the door and personally looking for Jack and Y/N.

"They’ve been gone too long," he said, for what must have been the thirteenth time, as he paced around the Crows Nest. Sam looked up from his book and to his brother.

"Dean, they're both almost adults. And Jack is the most powerful entity in this universe. I think they’ll manage.”

"Mm-hm," Dean went, and Sam knew he hadn't convinced him. Just like the other twelve times.

Then, as if called upon, they heard the squeak of the heavy front door and a slightly disheveled Jack Kline entered, with an exhausted Y/N Winchester in tow.

Dean was already waiting for you both at the foot of the stairs. "What the hell took you so long? And why didn't either of you answer your phone? We didn't know where you were, something could have happened to you!"

You and Jack ducked your heads and Jack was about to say something when you cut him off. "I'm sorry, Dad," you apologized. "Will not happen again."

Dean's anger seemed to subside a little because his voice sounded calmer and softer when he said it. "I hope so. I was worried."

And even if it was probably a little inappropriate in this situation, you felt a bit warm at his words.

"Uhm guys", Sam asked. "Where is the Christmas tree?"

You and Jack looked at each other in alarm and then back at the adults. Now Dean's eyebrows were raised expectantly, too.

“The Christmas tree?”, you asked, slowly. Sam nodded.

"We got kidnapped," Jack blurted out.

"Excuse me what now?" Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, Jack," you slowly dragged, turning to the Nephilim. "What?"

"But we took care of it," he added and in his eyes shone pride. “I used my powers. Without hurting anyone."

Cas nodded in appreciation. “That is a very success. I'm proud of you."

Jack's smile almost went in circles if his ears weren't between them, he smiled so hard.

Dean, however, still seemed a little worried. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” He reached for your head, but you dodged him. "It's fine, Dad, I promise. Like Jack said. We took care of it."

—

One by one, the lights went out in the sheriff's department. Sheriff Dowers, a slightly stocky woman, was turning off the last of the lights as she prepared to leave her office.

Christmas Eve with the whole family, well that would be something - again. With her mother-in-law, who always complained about how seldom she was at home, or her great-aunt, who had something to criticize about her appearance every time they saw each other.

She shuddered just at the thought. It would take her nerves of steel again to get through this. And lots of mulled wine.

Dowers rubbed her eyes tiredly and was about to lock the door, when she suddenly saw a crouched figure in the darkness. As she got closer, she realized it was a man, probably in his forties, hands tied behind his back on the lantern that stood in front of the police station.

Through the dim light she saw a folded Christmas card tied to the man's bonds. It featured a decorated Christmas tree with gifts and the words "Merry Christmas to you!".

The sheriff opened the card in surprise and hesitated, as she read it: My name is Aaron Miller, owner of Miller's Antiques. I have scammed countless people out of their money online. You can find all of this on my laptop. Best wishes and a Merry Christmas! was written in it.

Sheriff Dowers looked at the man tied up. She had never experienced such a strange arrest. But that was just fine with her. Maybe her Christmas Eve wasn't going to be as torturous as expected after all.

—

After another lecture on safety and self-defense from Dean, you'd retreated to the warmth of your room to get out of your wet, cold, dirty clothes.

You were now dressed in an oversized hoodie and red plaid pajama bottoms. While you were stuffing the dirty things into the laundry basket, there was a soft knock on the door. "Yes?" you answered, and your Dad walked in through the open door.

"Hey," he said. "Hey," you said back.

For a moment neither of you said anything, you just stood there and looked at each other. Then Dean broke the silence.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. Again.

"Yes I'm fine," you assured him. Again. "I fight monsters on a weekly basis, I think I'll be able to deal with a human kidnapping."

Dean's facial expression changed. "Wait. Are you saying - that was no monster?” he asked.

You shook your head. "Nope."

"You got jumped by a regular guy?"

You threw your arms in the air and Dean chuckled.

"Oh, now all of a sudden you're not worried anymore?"

He put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. "I know there's nothing to worry about because I know you kicked ass."

You grinned up at him. "Indeed we did."

Dean cleared his throat and let go of you. Then he sat on the edge of your bed and patted the seat next to him.

"So," he began when you sat down next to him, "I know you said we don't need any presents this Christmas. But, I figured, after all you've accomplished since you've been with us-' He pulled out a small package, wrapped in brown parchment paper and sealed neatly, and for a moment it occurred to you that probably Sam was the one who had wrapped it.

"Well, I figured you deserved it," Dean finished, handing you the present.

Incredulous, you opened the taped ends to avoid tearing the paper and pulled out what was in it.

"Stockings?" You gave your dad a questioning look.

Dean shrugged. "Yes, so you can hang them over the fireplace next year," he explained. "You know, how you do it at Christmas. I think."

"Next year?" you asked hopefully.

Now he avoided your gaze. "Well, I mean yeah, Christmas is stressful and pretty much unnecessary when you think about it, and we don't have time for-" He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "But maybe if we prepare a little better next time, it could be quite nice. And maybe then with official gifts.”

He smiled at you. You couldn't believe it. and without further ado you threw the stockings on the bed and pulled your dad into a tight hug.

"Thank you," you mumbled in his ear.

“You earned it, kiddo,” he said back. “I’m proud of you.”

You smiled into his flannel shirt. "Your heart has tripled in size. Like the Grinch.”

"Okay, thanks, Merry Christmas to you too," Dean replied in a sarcastic tone and broke the hug.

You were looking at the stockings next to you when you suddenly remembered what had become of your gift, and felt slightly depressed.

"I, um-" You lowered your gaze and fumbled with your fingers. “I actually had the plan to give you something, too. But then there was this thing with-"

At that moment the door was yanked open and both Dean's and your head shot in that direction. But only Jack stood in the doorway, hand raised in greeting. "Hello," he said, taking a step further into your room. The door that had opened so loud rested quietly against the wall. He must have used his powers to open it.

"Y/N, I am bringing you the gift for Dean," he continued, and only now did you register the small package in his hands.

"Wh-" You gaped at Jack in confusion.

He just smiled his innocent smile at you and nodded his head.

"Yes, you almost forgot it in the kitchen."

He placed the object in your hands. 'Thank you', you mouthed in his direction. Jack simply smiled and then courtly left the room again, but not before raising his hand to say goodbye, of course.

You turned to Dean again and, a little awkwardly, put the present in his hands.

You wondered what it could be. It definitely wasn't the car, the package wasn't the right shape for that. It was circular, yet a little flat. It was wrapped with colorful Christmas wrapping paper, and sealed with much, much tape. You smiled to yourself at the thought of Jack, highly focused, doing his best to cover up whatever was in there.

On top of it was a white bow, that Dean sort of brutally ripped off, just as he did the rest of the paper – a total opposite to your careful hand.

As he pulled the item out of the paper, you could almost see his eyes light up as he read the label.

"Howard Coleman's limited-edition Christmas pie—with cinnamon and apples straight from the North Pole!" And now you got it, too. It was the pie that Dean had been eyeing in stores for the past few days, whenever they passed it. All you knew about it was that it seemed to only come out once a year — around Christmas time — and it was supposed to taste like Santa baked it himself with his elves.

You smiled to yourself. How pure Jack was that he remembered it and allowed you to pass it off as your gift.

Dean was still grinning from ear to ear. "Ha-ha! I gotta show this to Sam, we gotta cut him straight!”

With that, he jumped up and planted a loving kiss on your hairline. "Thank you," he said and then he was already out the door.

—

Everyone was gathered in the crows nest. The garlands glittered and the whole building was filled with the smell of cinnamon. Little conversations ensued and everyone held a mug full of hot chocolate that Sam had specially conjured up.

A better option than Cas' failed egg-nog.

When the angel had gone around, offering you and Jack one of the glasses, all you could see was Sam hastily making a ‘Don’t do it’-gesture, and that was enough for you to politely say No.

"Have a good Christmas," you said, sprinkling sprinkles onto the whipped cream in your cocoa.

But Jack just looked at the empty space under the stairs.

"Now we don't even have a Christmas tree," he remarked, disappointment evident in his voice. Sam and you gave the young boy pitying looks.

Suddenly the signature woosh of Cas' wings could be heard and the angel was gone. Dean looked puzzled next to himself, where he had just been standing, and whirled around when he heard the wings again - accompanied by a rustling and clanking.

There, under the stairs, stood Castiel, with a huge green fir tree beside him, adorned with blue, white, and silver decorations. Jack's eyes almost popped out of his head and your mouth dropped open.

"Cas, where- where did you get that tree?" Sam asked incredulously. Cas looked at him with an almost reproachful look. "I'm an angel, remember?" he said, and that settled the matter.

Then Dean re-entered the room, having only recently left it unnoticed by anyone, holding an old CD-player in his hand.

He placed it on the big table and pushed a few buttons, and a slow Christmas carol started playing out of the speakers.

Everyone raised their mugs of hot chocolate and Dean poured some cherry liqueur into everyone's cups. You pressed yours close to Sam's, but Dean, always the psychic, noticed and pushed it away with his pinky finger.

You gave him a grim look, but he ignored you.

"Merry Christmas," Cas wished, and the rest joined in the chorus. "Merry Christmas!"

Mugs were clattering against each other, and Jack could be heard silently humming along to the music’s tune.

While everyone was busy chatting and laughing with one another, nobody noticed how Dean and Cas stole away. Together they stood a little apart, under the archway that led to the library. Dean leaned casually against the stonewall and looked at the scene that was playing out in front of them.

A slight smile graced his lips, and he didn't notice how Cas looked at him from the side, wearing just the same fond smile on his face.

"Considering that a few years ago I wouldn't have even dreamed of this happening - Christmas, hot chocolate, decorations-" Dean stopped himself. "A child. That doesn't come from murderous female warriors and wants to kill me.” He laughed lightly and took a sip of the hot chocolate.

"It's fascinating to see how despite all the suffering we've been through, good moments like this can still happen," Castiel agreed.

Dean turned his attention back to his angel and pushed himself slightly off the wall. "It's even better when everyone you care about is there."

Cas avoided Dean's look in flushed embarrassment. Suddenly the angel felt something trickling down onto his shoulder. It was an oblong shaped, small leaf with smooth edges.

He looked up in surprise. There by the archway above them, hung a bush full of those leaves, and round white berries within.

Dean groaned softly as he followed Cas' gaze and also discovered the plant. "I told Sam not to," he murmured.

Castiel looked at him questioningly. "What is it?"

Dean suddenly got very flustered and started stuttering. "It's, um- it's mistletoe. A Christmas tradition where you—”

"I do, in fact, know this tradition," Cas interrupted him in a low voice.

Dean only now noticed how close the angel actually was to him. And unperturbed, his heart began to beat faster until it pounded in his throat.

He was afraid that Cas could hear it.

But like the conversations around them, this fear faded into the background when Dean leaned forward the last centimeter to Castiel and put his own lips on those of the black-haired angel.

It wasn't a long kiss if measured in time, minutes, seconds. But for Dean it felt infinite. And not the infinity that stretches forever, no. The infinity in which you let yourself fall into a sky full of happiness and love. He let himself fall into the feel of Cas' warm lips on his, which still tasted a little of the hot chocolate and cherry liqueur.

When they broke apart, Dean felt the need to kiss him again at the same moment.

Cas' blue eyes looked deep into his green ones.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Cas."

And for that one moment, everything was perfect. And everything was warm.

Maybe Y/N was right. Maybe his heart had tripled in size.

Then, Sam's voice rang from the the table. “Cas, is that the Walmart Logo on our Christmas tree?”

[fantasyqueen502]

Mrs. Miller

Summary- (Before the infection/apocalypse) A look into the life of Mrs. Miller. The day the Millers become parents.

Relationship: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rated: PG Fluff, Pregnancy, labor pains Word Count: 809

"Yeah!---" Joel exhales out of breath, four large travel bags in hand. "---Tommy---" struggling with his phone pinned between his ear and shoulder. "---It's happening."

He missed a step, sending all four bags tumbling down the final flight. One bursting open in a confetti of diapers, pacifiers, and bottles following two by two. Dropping to his knees collecting the fallen items. "---This is it---" he says, forcing the bag shut with a huff and a smile present on his face. Lining everything up by the front door.

"Yes, this is the real thing." He assures now holding the phone by hand checking boxes to his mental checklist. "Kay…I'll call you when we get there."

Hearing the jingle of glassware from the fridge, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She returns, closing the fridge door after checking the date on a jar of mayonnaise.

Holding the receiver to his chest. "What are you doing!?" he exclaims.

"Making a sandwich." She answers plainly. "Now out of my way." She swats him to the side waddling to the counter, where other items are.

"It's time. Your water broke, we should be on our way--"

"Only when the contractions are less than five minutes apart." coating a slice of bread with the condiment. "I don't want to get sent home again." She adds topping off the finished sandwich titled the double decker.

"She takes after you." He couldn't help but snicker. "Indecisive." He whispers, placing a peck on her temple.

"I have a knife." She holds the mayo-covered butter knife at him threateningly. He chuckles, clicking his tongue at the adorable sight. Taking the “weapon” cleaning the blade with his tongue.

She gags, looking away just before pinching his bicep, making him yelp.

"Let's be an angel today. 'Kay little monster." giving her belly a comforting rub. Continuing his chat with his brother. "We'll meet you there."

She looks up as his brows furrowed in confusion, unable to listen to the other end of the conversation. "The hospital, idiot!" He snaps, making her giggle.

"Ha, ha, ha." He mocks sarcastically, making her snort at his cockeyed expression, which he often does when his brother does something that he deems stupid. She was surprised his eyes never got stuck the amount of instances it's happened. "Tommy." He informs her, holding the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Tommy." She greets finishing the sandwich, cutting it diagonally just how Joel likes it, and makes a trade, handing him his half as she takes the phone. "He's just anxious. You know how snippy he gets when he's anxious." She teases.

" ‘ey!" He objects with his mouth full.

"Just made him the double decker." She smiles. "Of course. Payment in advance for babysitting, see you there." She smiles. "Bye bye." She ends.

"You made him one?" He says words muffled by bread, lettuce, and bacon.

"Of course." She answers by holding up a brown paper bag. "Only the best for Diana's favorite uncle."

"He's her only uncle." He corrects. "Back to Diana, huh?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "You choose, babe." She pushes a sheet of paper towards him.

Without giving the list of names a glance, "Joel Jr." He answers taking another larger bite without thought.

"C'mon." She huffs. "Our daughter's gonna have twenty-four first names. Pick one."

"Any name?"

"Any name."

"No vetoing?"

She shakes her head in agreement.

"Alright." He swallows his bite. He takes a moment to look over the list before looking up at the mother of his first child. "Sarah."

"Sarah?"

"Thought of it, few weeks ago. After the drive in,"

"Thought you hated that movie."

"Loved to hate. There's a difference." He corrects. "I quite enjoyed Lost World."

"Sarah." She hums. "I don't like it." She makes a face, causing Joel's expression to fall in dismay. "I love it." He snapped up, and his face beaming.

"That's lame." He scolds, pulling her close for a kiss. "You're lame." He combates patheticly.

"I know." She grins proudly, receiving another kiss. She pulls away. "Ow." She whines, holding the countertop while rubbing her belly with the other hand. Squeezing her eyes tight.

"Big one?" Placing his hand to her lower back.

"Yep." She groans, exhaling a long breath. He begins making soothing circles to dull the ache.

"Lean on me." He instructs her to lean her face into his chest, inhaling the scent of Irish spring.

"Mmmm." She sounds as the grip of pain loosened. Then it faded all together.

"Think that's our cue." He chuckles, placing a hand on her bump. "Time to finally meet our baby girl."

"Time to finally meet, Sarah."

Series Chapters order:

Mrs. Miller

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 2

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 3

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 4

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 5

[cateyedfox36]

In this house we KNOW Jason Voorhees did nothing wrong

we watched Jason 2 last night- I'm sorry Friday the 13th part II is too long a title, they're about Jason being a very good boy so they're called Jason movies. Period.- and now I kinda want to watch all of them. Except that crappy one. Where he's Corey Feldman's character all grown up and he thinks he's Jason? And there's this really weird keystone cops vibe to the whole thing? Idk. That ones bad.

But the best one - besides Jason in Space and Jason vs Freddy- is the one where the kids are at camp and these children have hilarious glorious lines like "what did you want to grow up to be?" Bc they just accept that Jason is going to murder them too.

Without looking anything up, I'm pretty sure I can do all the Jason movies. Let's go:

Momma voorhees. Great sweater, excellent momBob, and you get to see Kevin Bacons Bits if you know when to pause the movie. 3.75 stars. Not funny, kinda off vibes

Jason in a bag. He's a very clumsy boy, falls off a whisker chair, is confused by a small dog (who does not die!), and is hit by a car like twice. He only kills like what 6 people on screen? And we get BEST final girl Ginny, who takes a chainsaw to our soft prince, and mind mojos him to think his momma is alive. 5 outta 5 stars! Some nice boobs, creep dies strung up like the perv his is and Jason is mu sweetest baby boi.

Behold, a hockey mask. Much better for peripheral and way more sensibly than a FUCKING BAG! Jason finds a house with stupid horny teens- or college kids? I'm never certain- and another with a newly divorced mom, her slightly sassy daughter and a young monster obsessed Corey Feldman. Pretty good kills, the dog laters out to go join a wolf pack (run by muffin obs), and Corey Feldman gives himself a bad haircut to bond with our big headed hero,Jason. 4.25 outta 5. Funny, more agile Jason, and I had no sympathy for the college idiots who died epically.

The fucking worst. I think they were trying for a Legacy Jason bc he definitely "died" in 3. So elder teen Corey Feldman thinks he's Jason and at the POORLY run TROUBLED TEEN camp he goes to someone starts killing folks. I vaguely remember the actual killer but... who cares. This is the worst. 1 star.

Again w all adulted Corey (reminder not thr actor but the character, but who bothers to remember their names?) Digs up Jason's body, it gets struck by lightning and He's Back! I think this is the one with the biker gang. And the sheriff's daughter has a taste for danger and breaks not-corey out to defeat Jason. 2.5 stars. I think there was an rv death? But a fun scene in a barn!

Jason's not dead, just napping and when he ends up in a morgue his heart infects a doctor who becomes... jason...? It's odd. You guys remember Nightmares on Elm st dream Child? I think it's like that. 2 stars. Fucked if I remember anything from this movie. This is where I get a little shaky

Jason back at camp baby! I think this is the one with the funny kids. And it's just a really straight forward slasher. No lore, no stupid shit just bad counselors getting what they deserve for not watching children. 3.9 stars. Best part is the kids

Jason on a boat. He was in Manhattan for like 10minutes. He kills a kid with a guitar, and the inside of boats are very dangerous. No lore. 3.75 stars

Is there a Jason 9? I don't fucking know but I do know there's...

Jason in SPAAAACEE! And it's amazing. A ship full of med students find Jason cryogenically frozen and a woman as well. They defrost both, murder hijinx ensue. Jason becomes a cyborg. And they completely miss shooting him into the sun. It's so stupid and so good and I love my son! 5 billion stars! Lore? Who needs lore when you've got a cyborg jason?!

Jason vsFreddy. The best team up full stop. With Jason's relentless desire to punish bad teens and Freddy's pervy ass? Forget about it. Nice lore, and the addition of seeing how happy Jason is in his death is perfection. 5 outta 5 stars. Look yes, Jason's gonna kill you, he'll have fun with it, but he won't sexually assault you while doing it.

conclusion: the middle ones suck. Skip them. Watch 2, 3, Jason in Space and Jason vs Freddy.

[rmoonstoner]

Lovely Little Sky

***

***

Chapter 10

***

Warning:

Graphic depictions of violence, death, mention of torture and blood. Mention of rape but no description of it, mention of death and child loss.

Summary:

Jake shows you his softer side for others. Steven witnesses this as well, and rethinks the way he sees Jake.

***

"I wish I could, but… I can't." Jake replied while avoiding Steven's gaze. He waited for Steven to get angry, and possibly shout and scream at him, to which Jake would have shoved him right down into the headspace…

But instead, Steven just slumped his shoulders and looked at his hands.

'Oh. Alright, then. Um… Does that mean I can summon the suit still?'

"What?" Jake was confused.

'You know… The suit. I never made a deal with Khonshu, yet when Marc did, I got to use the powers. Do I still get to use the powers, or don't I? I mean, she scratched me up pretty good, and she saw it. We just didn't exactly talk about the fact the scratches were gone by the time I was done with her. When Marc left Khonshu, I just kinda went along with the whole leave us alone thing…'

"Are you fucking serious? You're concerned about whether or not you get your little hoity toity bespoke suit? How fucking British of you, Steven."

'Uh huh. Right. And like your little 'I'm a Mexican gardener' shtick wasn't cliche enough? Almost borderline racist-'

"You shut the fuck up. We aren't Mexican, we're Spanish. At least we actually have Spanish in our genes."

'So? And Marc's Jewish, yet you clearly are not.'

"I used to be, but not anymore. I swear, one of these fucking days I am going to go to a steakhouse and eat a blue rare steak with butter and bacon on it, and force you guys to watch." Jake snapped at him with a harsh glare.

'Ah, so you're the one that asked that girl at work on a date to a steakhouse. Right. A bloody vegan taking someone out for a bloody steak. Donna got right in my face about that one.'

"Yeah, and you told her you would eat a pansy ass salad and some bread. That steakhouse doesn't have vegan bread." Jake muttered at Steven.

'Fuck. And I thought Marc was a dick. This is just great. I have to share a body with two assholes. I'm going to be very surprised if she stays here with us. How can she even like you? You're a prick.'

"That's not what she says when I have her pinned in the back of the limo."

'You fucked her in my limo?!' Steven hissed, and Jake rolled his eyes.

"Our limo. I'm the one that made you buy it, remember?"

'That's beside the point. So you hired her, fucked her, then she pity fucks me-'

"She didn't pity fuck you, Steven. She likes you. She likes all of us. You have no issues with Marc liking her, because you fucked her before he did, which by the way, it doesn't matter who got to her first. What matters, is that she likes everyone for who they are." Jake pulled out another smoke, and Steven growled at that. He was not happy at all that Jake smoked a lot.

"Do you realize how rare it is for a person with D.I.D. to find someone that doesn't give a shit about having such a condition? And then all of the alters actually being on board and liking her at the same time? That's fucking unheard of. Did you even stop to think about that? I bet you didn't. How would you feel if she fucked you first, then Marc decided he didn't like her? Or God forbid, if I didn't like her, and went paying for hookers instead? What then, Steven? Hmm? That wouldn't be fair to her. Be happy there are only three of us in this system, otherwise shit would hit the fan more often." Jake snapped back as he adjusted his hat and tie, cig hanging from the corners of his mouth.

'I'm still pissed, mate. Marc has to know about you. We can't hide you from him.'

"No. Not yet. Give me more time. Please, hermanito? Just a little more time."

'Fine. Why do you need more time?'

"I'm hot on the trails of a big time illegal auction ring. I am trying to return a bunch of items that were stolen, while also trying to find the person that keeps acquiring these things. I need to complete this mission, because there is an artifact I need, and men to punish."

'And you're taking her to these places? That's fucking dangerous. I don't want her to get hurt.'

"She won't get hurt. She wants to help me. Khonshu said he will teach her how to do real magic, and she wants that so badly. That's why we bought that book-"

'The book? A magic book? You better not be talking about the Book of Thoth. That's a fucking dangerous book.'

"You told her it could be dangerous, not that it is. It's not dangerous if a God helps her to learn. What did you want me to do? Go ask Doctor Strange? I don't think so. He used to be the world's leading neurosurgeon, and he would probably deem us dangerous and insane."

'Used to be is the word here. He has no authority over that.'

"Maybe so, Steven, but he is a powerful sorcerer now, and part of the Avengers. People respect his word, more than they respect Tony Stark's. And if he even gets a whiff of that book, and Khonshu being around, he might deem us and him as a threat, because that book was part of the Sanctum library at one time. Is that you want? Ya want a fucking wizard to come in here and mess up our lives more? What if he takes her away to teach her, himself? Or what if he deems us too dangerous to be around her? Do you want that to happen?"

'Well no. No, I do not want that to happen.' Steven looked down and started fiddling with his hands.

"So please… Please can we keep me and Khonshu a secret for now? Give me a month. Just a month is all I need. Please, hermanito? Please?" Jake gave him a pleading look. Stephen sighed and nodded.

'Fine. One month. Not a day longer.'

"Thank you. We should go check on her now. You did make her cry, and I thought I would have been the one to do that first." Jake muttered and Steven looked down, feeling bad about it.

'Yeah, I guess…'

***

"Okay. How about I teach you magic while Jake sorts Steven out?" Khonshu rumbled softly as he placed hand tobyour shoulder. It was weird to feel the cold on his fingers.

"Really?" You looked up and wiped a few stray tears from your face. You suddenly felt excited, instead of sad.

"Yes, really. First, I am going to have you go grab that ring Jake got from the auction." He said softly. You grabbed your purse, half dumping it on the bed. You snatched the ring, and held it up.

"Okay… So now what?"

"Next, put it on." He instructed you. You narrowed your brows, and looked at the ring.

"But I was explicitly told not to."

"Just put the fucking ring on."

"Fine. It's on. What next?"

"That ring is very similar to a Sling ring. A Sling ring is used to teleport to different places. Places being, here in this universe, or places that humans aren't supposed to be that are connected to it. Example, with this ring, you could take yourself to the top of the Eiffel Tower, or, you could appear on the boat in the Duat. You could also fuck it up, and end up inside a rock, lava, water, or the vacuum of space."

"That sounds horrible!" Your eyes went wide at the last sentence. You sure as shit didn't want to end up inside any of those places. Khonshu hummed and tapped his fingers on his beak.

"Yes, but with a simple item, we can prevent that from happening. Here, please take this silver pendant. It will override a bad place to appear, forcing the spell to be moved to a safer area. This will include other such things, like appearing in the middle of a war zone if you weren't intending to go there." Khonshu said, and with a quick snap of his fingers, he was holding a small silver crescent charm on a silver chain. He hummed and put the chain around your neck and took a step back to look at it. The charm was very small.

"Okay. That's good. I like this. So... How do I use the ring?"

"Think of a place you want to go. I recommend a place you have already been to."

You closed your eyes and imagined a place. The first place that came to mind was the back seat of the limo. When you opened your eyes, you were still in your bedroom.

"It didn't work. Maybe I'm not able to-"

"Well done. People don't usually get it the first time." Khonshu said as he pointed his staff behind you. You turned, and there was an unusual tear in the space there. Inside the torn space, was a clear view into the back of the limo.

"Holy shit… I thought the ring just straight up teleported me, not open up a portal…"

"Well, that's what it does. Go on, go through it. It feels weird, and you might feel sick after the first time, but you'll be fine. I promise." Khonshu said, and he ducked into the portal to take a seat at the very back of the limo. You slowly approached the whispered tear in space, and you could feel a small wind rushing around. You reached out, hand going through the portal, and you were suddenly yanked through and spat out on the floor at Khonshu's feet.

"Sorry. I forgot to mention the amulet will make sure you won't be harmed by an ill cast portal. It slammed shut, because you lost concentration. Portals can be used to cut things, or people, in half."

You felt cold and numb, yet your skin was hot to the touch. Your body felt like a million bees were swarming inside you and you suddenly felt the need to vomit. Khonshu was quick to open the door for you, and you stumbled out to empty the contents of your stomach in a trash bin.

"I'm sorry. I should have warned you about the vacuum part." He said softly, while you just raised a middle finger at him between heaving into the trash. He chuckled and reached over to rub your back.

***

Jake was now right back at your door, knocking and calling your name. He got no reply, and he didn't hear any voices inside.

'She's ignoring you.' Steven piped up.

"Shut up." Jake snapped and he opened the door. He walked inside, and found you were gone, as was his boss.

'Where did she go?'

"Fuck if I know…" Jake replied, and his eyes landed on your purse that was sitting half dumped out on your bed.

The ring.

"Shit. He probably is teaching her how the ring works." Jake muttered, and he left your room, shutting the door with a loud thunk as he walked away.

'Ring? What ring? I thought you said it was a book.'

"I bought a weird looking double finger ring. Khonshu demanded I buy it." Jake grumbled as he kept walking.

'Is that why my wallet was all rearranged? Did you steal from me?'

"Borrowed. I borrowed some money. You'll get it back once I get the bounties."

'How much did you spend?!'

"Uh… You don't want to know."

'Jake. How much did you spend?!'

"Nearly all of it." The second he said the words, Steven nearly fainted away into the headspace. He managed to hang on and stay present. He was clutching his chest and his hair, looking like someone had just knocked the wind from him.

'Oh for fuck's sakes! Give me the body this instant!'

"No. I have to return a few items today. That will get us at least two million back. Plus, your stocks are soaring, and those investments returned double the profit."

'That's still not helping me feel any better.'

"You know what? I don't fucking care. I don't have time for this shit today. I'm going to get my shit together, and go find her. Then, I'm taking her with me to go return the items back to who they originally belonged to."

***

By the time Jake had grabbed his duffle bag and the items he needed from his safe, you had stopped feeling sick and crawled back into the limo. You were flat on your back, just staring at the ceiling and the underside of Khonshu's beak.

"Is that going to happen every time?" You croaked out and licked your lips.

"Yes, but you'll get used to it. The nauseating feeling goes away once you have a good grasp on how the ring works."

"Is all magic gut wrenching?"

"Pretty much. Why? You don't want to learn any more?"

"That's not it, I still want to learn."

"Good, because I suspect you'll need to know it if you plan to stay with them."

"Well, unless I outright get told to leave, I'm staying."

"Good. Now get up. Jake's got things to do for me today, and he wants you to go with him."

You left the garage and went back to your room the regular way, by walking, much to Khonshu's dismay. You got changed, and then packed your purse with what you would need, phone, wallet, headphones, and other such things. You were just coming out of your room, when you saw Jake coming down the hallway with his bag and a mean look on his face.

"Oh… Hey…" You greeted him, and he stopped mid-stride, looking up at you, his face going soft. He then looked to his left at the glass of the photo frame.

"Hey, mi cielo." He said in a soft voice as he turned back to look at you. He was now wearing that grin that he seemed to reserve only for you.

"Are you going out?" You asked.

"Yeah… Care to come with me?" He offered.

"Is Steven going to yell at me again?" You asked, and Jake glared at Steven in the reflection. Steven huffed and he slowly moved to a spot where you could see him better.

'No. I'm not going to yell at you again.'

"Are we okay?" You inquired.

'I guess. I'm just… I'm just really disappointed in the whole situation. I'm not mad at you.' He replied, but he sounded very touchy, like he just wanted some time to think.

"Good. Let's go." Jake muttered under his breath and walked past to get to the garage.

You went directly to the back seat and let yourself in, while Jake handed you your purse and went to the trunk to put his stuff away. He noticed the trash bin and raised a brow, thinking he should ask about it later. Steven didn't notice at all.

***

It wasn't long before the car was driving down the street, and you were sitting facing away from Jake. Steven was crafty, and had figured out how to move into any reflection, so long as Jake was close enough to you. He slowly appeared in the reflection of the tinted window and hummed nervously.

'I'm sorry.' He finally whispered, his hand resting on the glass. You reached up and placed your hand where his was, and Steven could have sworn that he could feel your skin on his.

"It's fine. I deserve it. You have a right to be-"

'No. You didn't deserve me being angry at you. You were just doing what you promised to do. I would completely expect you to do the same for me. I'm just… I'm just upset that now I am in on the lies.' Steven huffed while keeping his hand firmly in place where yours was. The feeling of heat meeting his flesh was odd, because he couldn't exactly touch or interact with things in this state. He wondered if you could feel the warmth too.

"What do you mean by that?" As you spoke, you looked down at your hand. It was tingly and soft, almost as if you could feel Steven.

Steven saw the look in your eyes, and he knew he couldn't be mad at you. He thunked his head against the glass, then sat up straight. He decided that he couldn't bear Marc being angry with you, knowing Marc's anger was so much worse than his own. He sighed as he removed his hand from the comfort of yours, feeling the cold instantly creeping into his entire being. He crossed his arms and looked away.

'I promised not to tell Marc about him and the bird man for one month. Jake says he needs to do a bunch of things before Marc knows about him. Plus, Marc will just lose his shit, and probably get mad at you, and I don't want that to happen. He flies off the handle, takes control of the body, abuses the shit out of it, then hands it back in tatters. I don't want you to see that. I don't want him to say or do something to hurt you."

"You think he would hurt me? I don't want any of you to be mad at me at all. I didn't want to lie to you. I told Jake and Khonshu that."

'I believe you. But now this is gonna be awkward to explain to Marc why he is missing a whole day. He's going to ask me what I did with my time with the body, and I can't just go, 'Uh, I don't know, mate. I also blacked out.' Because that's not gonna fly with him.' Steven said, and you both went quiet as Jake drove. Steven was already thinking up a multitude of excuses and stories he could make up that would sound plausible enough to Marc.

Being sick was out, as they haven't been sick since they met Khonshu. Steven couldn't say that he woke up and started drinking, because he barely drank to begin with. He couldn't say the weed did that to them, because Steven only really smoked that one time. He grunted as he tried to think, and you sat back on your phone to pass the time.

***

The first stop was a small home in a dingy neighborhood. Jake got out and grabbed what he needed, then he got you out of the back of the limo. You both went up to the door and he banged on the door with his fist three times. Not too long after that, an old lady opened the door. She smiled softly at Jake, then looked at you.

"Hello. It's good to see you again, Jake."

"Abuela. Sí."

"Who is this?" She asked and pointed to you. You were holding his arm, and she gave you both a suggestive look.

"Ah, this is my girlfriend. I thought you might like to meet her."

Steven was floored. He had never seen this old woman before, and he knew enough Spanish to know that Jake had just called her his grandmother. He was also surprised that Jake introduced you as his girlfriend.

"She's beautiful. Good job." She said and she shook hands with you. Jake gave Steven a warm smile, and he took your hand. She let you inside her home, and it looked like a tiny cottage you would imagine a witch to live in. Herbs were hanging in the windows, the kitchen was old fashioned, and there was no technology anywhere. The smells of baking filled the air, along with a mixture of the herbs that hung in every corner. You could smell the lingering scent of weed and various smells that were pleasant. Her home was cozy and comfortable.

"I've found your daughter's jewelry." Jake suddenly blurted out. He pulled out a box from the bag he held, and set it down in front of the old woman.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she clutched the box with shaking hands. Ever so slowly, she opened it, and she started to sob her thanks in a string of intangible jibberish. Inside the box was the first set of jewelry Jake had made you wear.

"Thank you so much. It's the only thing I had left of her since she died. Thank you, Jake." The old woman cried and gushed as she hugged Jake. He patted her back and held a warm smile as she buried her face into his jacket.

Steven just sat there in one of the dusty mirrors in shock. He had no idea Jake was helping regular people, and that box held expensive jewelry. Too expensive for a sweet old lady in a small house like this.

Jake and you stayed long enough for a coffee and some snacks, and you discovered he drank his black. You left shortly after, and Jake was taking you to another location. Steven was quiet the entire way, not sure if he could be truly be mad at the guy any more.

Another stop landed you at a very nice house. It was huge, but smaller than the one you lived in with the boys. Jake took you to the door, and just like before, he pounded on the door three times.

This time an old man answered the door. He took one look at Jake, and allowed him in without a word. Jake took you to what looked to be a parlor room, where there was heavy smoke in the air. There was a large man sitting at a desk with a laptop. The only sounds to be heard were the typing of the keys.

Jake pulled out a wad of cash, and then passed it to the man. The man didn't say a word as he withdrew a scrap of paper and wrote down an address. Jake snatched it away, and held out his hand in a demanding way. The man grumbled, and pulled out some sort of bag the size of a coin purse, handing it over with a bit of reluctance.

"Thanks." Was all Jake could say, and he promptly led you out of the house.

The next stop was at a run down warehouse, and Jake made you stay in the car this time. He wasn't very long inside the place, and he came out with a large package that looked like a rolled up rug. He was also in his moon suit and covered in soot.

"What the fuck?" You asked while giving him a skeptical look.

"I had to crawl into the furnace pipes to retrieve this. This thing has to go back tomorrow." Jake remarked while his mask melted away. With a very exaggerated gesture, he flicked the soot and dirt from his clothes, but you suspected it was the magic that came with it.

Steven was surprised to see that sort of simple power, and he decided it would have been helpful in the past, when he had been covered head to toe in blood. He was baffled that Jake's suit was just plain street clothing, plus a mask. He had no idea that Jake could change the look of the suit.

The entire day was spent going to odd and seemingly unrelated places. Each place, Jake would be handing off or receiving money or items. A lot of the places he stopped in were the homes of everyday people, returning lost or stolen items to their rightful owners. By the end of the day, he had stopped at the bank, the same one that Steven used. He took his hat off, combed his hair, and changed his coat to a suit jacket. He smiled at you, and his expression was exactly Steven's. You sighed at seeing that and he brought you into the bank with him, arm in arm.

Steven was freaking out, wondering if Jake was going to try and take more money from his account. He even started asking Jake what he was planning on doing, asking a million questions as they went inside. Jake just ignored him, and stood before the bank teller with that almost fake smile and his briefcase.

"Oh, hello there!" Steven's voice came from the body, but it was Jake. He put the case in one hand, then adjusted his tie as he greeted the teller.

"Card please." The teller said with a half smile. Jake pulled out Steven's wallet and withdrew his bank card and ID. She took Steven's cards and looked them over. She smiled and greeted Jake back with a polite and sweet tone.

"Ah. Doctor Grant. It's good to see you again. What can I do for you today?"

"I'd like to make a deposit. I made an investment, and it returned a profit." Jake replied in an English accent. Steven scowled and muttered something about how he didn't sound like that at all, that was more country sounding than his own. You just giggled and waved at the teller. She waved back.

"Ah, wonderful. Just so you know, your other investments have been deposited in your account this morning. The Stark Foundation stocks are quickly climbing in value, as are the other ones from America." The teller chatted to Jake about his profits, while Steven sat there utterly confused.

He hadn't put anything into stocks from America, especially not the Stark foundation.

"How are the ones doing from Japan?" Jake asked, and the teller hummed.

"They are at a stand still until your lawyer comes back from there. Mr. Murdock sent you a funds request… About an hour ago. We couldn't clear it until you arrived-"

"Clear it now, please, love. Give him double of what he's asking for, he'll need it for negotiations." Jake interjected sweetly, the British accent somewhat sounding a bit more like Steven. The clerk smiled and did just that.

While you waited for the clerk to do her job, Steven was trying to get Jake's attention.

'Jake. Why are we sending money to our lawyer in Japan?' He asked and Jake continued to ignore him. A moment passed and the clerk smiled, handing Jake a receipt for the transfer of funds. After, Jake requested access to the security deposit box.

Steven was amazed when Jake was taken to a private room where the teller took his briefcase. When she opened it, it was tightly packed with bills. Once the money was deposited, she showed the balance, and Jake sneered at his reflection, well he sneered at Steven. Steven was shocked to see a few million go back into his account just from the briefcase alone.

That's when Steven noticed all the investment names that were listed, and he was amazed to see that Jake had invested in all the superhero companies in New York. The Avengers via Stark Industries, the Fantastic Four via the Baxter Institute, Parker Industries, which was a subsidiary of Stark's, and that one frequently backed Spiders-Man's legal team, which ironically was Nelson and Murdock's Law Office. The same law office that defended the Punisher, Daredevil, and apparently now Moon Knight.

Steven was swimming in so much information, he decided to just stay quiet.

***

Now it was dinner time, and Jake was taking you to a restaurant. Steven was worried Jake would make good on his threat to eat a steak, but instead, Jake brought you to a place with vegan and vegetarian foods. You had a quiet dinner, with Steven barely speaking while he was let out to eat with you. When dinner was over, Jake took over again, and took you back to his home.

Jake asked you to go have a shower, then dress yourself in something pretty so you could meet him in his bedroom. Steven was upset by this, and he waited until you were gone, before he spoke up about it.

'Are you serious? You're going to fuck her in front of me?'

"Why should you have a problem with that, when you banged her in a changing stall, with Marc watching and participating?" Jake snickered as he withdrew a cigarette and lit it.

'That's… That's different. I'm on good terms with Marc.'

"Yeah, well, whether you like it or not, I was there. I must say, you did a very good job with her. You listened to my advice, regardless of the fact you tried to pretend that I didn't exist. Funny how that works, huh?" Jake teased with a smirk. Steven rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as a pouty look melted onto his face.

'Fuck. I don't know whether to be disgusted or grateful.'

"Be grateful." Jake said, and he heard a knock on his door. He grinned and winked at Steven, before he called out to you.

"It's open, mi cielo!"

When you got inside, Jake was just closing his closet. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were rolled up, showing off those muscular forearms of his. A sigh left your mouth, which they both took notice of.

"Okay. I am clean, and in a nice dress. Now what?" You questioned him. He exhaled a plume of smoke and put his cigarette out between his fingers. Steven had seen him do this a few times now, and he finally understood the thick calluses on his fingers, and why he sometimes would wake up with the scent of cigarette smoke all over him.

"Well, since Steven is in the know now, I thought he might appreciate going with us tonight. Though, boss man is going to be mad, but I don't really fucking care if he is." Jake remarked with a good crack to his neck. You could see a wince in his reflection, Steven not really enjoying the sound.

Steven was also surprised at how cocky Jake was. How he wasn't afraid to talk like that about Khonshu. He sort of liked it.

"But what are we doing?" You asked as you took out some lipstick and applied it. Steven moved close to watch, his eyes squinting as you made an 'o' face.

"I intend to take you to the warehouse."

"Oh. Okay." You murmured back with a weak smile. Your stomach felt a bit tight, knowing exactly where he was taking you. You didn't understand why you needed a nice dress to go to the warehouse.

'Uh, guys? What's this warehouse business all about? Is that a club?' Steven overheard the conversation, and he chewed his lower lip, waiting for an explanation.

"You'll see when we get there, hermanito." Jake replied with a sneer. Steven felt shivers go up and down his spine. He was not liking the playful undertones in his voice.

***

Jake took you to a place that took at least an hour to get to. It was by the docks, located near agricultural land. The streets were quiet, with no activity for miles. Trees surrounded the warehouse property, making nearly the entire place impossible to see into.

Now that you were at the warehouse, it began to set in that this was the place Jake was mentioning before. A place where he could do his business quietly. The place you would be tasked with cleaning after he 'used' it.

The building was old, but the outside was relatively decent, made of red bricks and grey flagstone. It had a large junk yard all around it, with various cars in the lot in various stages of disrepair. A few looked alright, like the pristine taxi cab that sat by the entrance. The tall lamp posts had old and yellow bulbs, and most of them didn't work. A few flickered to life, then would turn off for a few minutes, and back on for a brief while.

The yard itself was made of small pebbles and dirt. Patches of grass and weeds were growing alongside the ten foot tall prison-like fence that had rolls of barbed wire at the top. Almost every lamppost had a brand new security camera, covering every possible inch of the yard, and they were not subtle. It was weird that this dump would have so many cameras, considering what Jake used this place for.

The thick stainless steel entrance door appeared to have been recently replaced, and it was heavily reinforced around the frame and wall. There was a small keypad beside the knob, and Jake punched in a few numbers, not bothering to hide the combination from either you or Steven. It didn't matter to him if you two knew the code. Besides, you would need it later anyways.

Once inside, you took a look around. It was your average old building, with peeling wallpaper, chipping paint, and a lot of dirt and grime. The ceilings were bare, and showed all the pipes, ducts, and wires. There was barely anything inside the first hallway, which was an office with all the old things relating to what this place used to be.

The next room was an old break room, barely the same size as Jake's bedroom. It was painted baby blue, and the paint was newer than the rest of the building, but it was still old and smoke stained. It housed appliances from the 70's, an old microwave, hotplate, water cooler, and a half sized seafoam green fridge. There was an old, fold up, metal table that was used to hold it all, minus the fridge. In the corner of the room, sat a small stainless steel sink that looked like it was recently installed judging by brighter blue paint in the shape of the old sink all around it. The pipes under it were brand new as well.

The first thing Jake did, was flip the break room lights on, and he went about rinsing the coffee pot and starting the machine to make coffee. You took notice of how he added double the grounds then what was necessary to make it extra strong. Afterwards, he went and opened the fridge, gesturing to the contents as he looked at you.

The inside of the fridge was spotless and very clean. There were all sorts of imported beers, ciders, and soda pop. He even had water bottles, most being the flavored bubbly kind. You nodded your thanks and took something to drink, deciding on a cider, then you hesitated and also grabbed a nonalcoholic drink as well. Jake nodded back and took out a small bottle of whiskey, then he shut the fridge as he went to stare at the bubbling coffee pot.

"So… This is the warehouse? It's kind of shifty looking, no offense." You said to Jake. He chuckled and turned to look at you.

"None taken. I just bought this dump with a friend, real cheap, too. Some of the cars that were included were well worth the price of the land. My mechanic is gonna move in here soon to fix the place up."

"All I saw was junk and a taxi outside." You snarked at him, and he let out a large laugh.

"Well they are all shit boxes, except for the cab. Frenchi can do what he wants to the other cars. The taxi has been mine for about five years, and I maintain it well. The limo is much better, and that gets worked on by my mechanic, but I still use the cab for undercover work. It's less flashy." Jake explained as he took the half brewed pot and quickly poured some of the liquid into a metal travel mug, before replacing the pot to continue brewing. The coffee was thick and syrupy, because it wasn't finished brewing. He dumped a lot of whiskey into it, then took a big swig, nearly drinking it all. He sighed with a smile on his face, and slammed the thermos down, going to refill it again the same way.

Once he was satisfied with his second cup, Jake grabbed a bottle of water, putting it into his coat pocket, and took you to the next room. It was a large open area, appearing to be a garage of sorts. It had three bays in the floor, and a bunch of tool chests dividing each one. Tools lined the walls on peg boards, as well as boxes of parts and shop supplies on the old rusty metal shelves.nit was surprisingly very neat and organized.

The other half of the room was basically a parking lot for the nicer cars in the yard. There was a 1970 El Camino, painted in a starlight black fleck paint, but it was missing tires. Next to it sat a large silver 2008 Dodge Durango, which was missing seats and the windshield. Beside it was red Austin Mini, what year you couldn't tell, because it was completely stripped of everything, except the frame and shell.

The final car in the lineup was the best one. It was a 2008 Porsche 911, and nothing was wrong with it, aside from the hood being flipped up. The engine was perfect and clean, and you couldn't see what was wrong with it. Even the white pearlescent paint was spotless and ding free.

Steven had been following around and gawking at the whole room and the contents. He was quietly fuming about the fact that Jake had recently purchased this place, with some guy named Fenchie no less, and he racked his brain to see if he could remember seeing any odd charges to his account when he was there earlier that day, as Jake had made a point of showing him the balance history for the past two months. He groaned when he realized he most certainly had seen a large chunk withdrawn from a different account, and several others for utilities that he had just assumed went with the new house.

"There's a few more rooms. One is a storeroom the size of a classroom. That's the one I will be conducting my business in." He flipped on the lights as he walked, showing you a bathroom and a few closets with cleaners in them. When he finally got to the door of the room in question, you found it was also the same as the front door, all heavy and thick steel with a number pad on it.

He punched in the code, and swung the door open.

You gasped, seeing the empty room had only one thing in it.

A man strapped to a chair, a pool of dried blood on the floor around him. The stench of pure filth, like someone hadn't bathed in a week, mixed with soiled pants clung to the air like a viscous invisible smoke. It was revolting.

Steven was horrified, as he quickly looked around the room, noticing there was nothing reflective in it, save for the phone in your hand, and Jake's mug. He appeared on your phone, and looked up at you.

'Is he… Is he dead?' Came his soft and nervous voice. You shrugged, not knowing if he was or not, but he certainly smelled like it.

Jake came into the room, going right up to the man that was slumped over on his side as far as the chair would allow. You noticed the chair was bolted to the floor, with his hands and feet individually cuffed to the arms and legs. He had a cloth bag over his head, and flies were buzzing all around.

Jake nudged the person with his foot, and he didn't move. Steven gasped, and he looked away, glancing at you. You weren't looking away, because your eyes were trying to see if the body was breathing or not. Jake grabbed the man's head and yanked it back roughly, pouring the water he had brought with him all over the man's bagged head.

A loud snort and groan came from the man as he stirred awake. Jake stared down at him, and waited for a moment as the man lifted his head.

"Surprised you ain't dead, yet " Jake remarked with a stoic face, his eyes drawn into slits, showing his disgust. He nudged the man again, and you heard him coughing.

"Ugh, please, let me go… I promise not… Not to do it again…"

"Remind me why you're here." Jake stated coldy, causing you to flinch ever so slightly.

"I… I robbed… A young rich… Couple …" The man croaked between coughs. Jake sneered and raised his hand, then swiftly smacked the guy's face with the palm of his hand.

"And?!" Jake raised his voice a few octaves, the vein on on his forehead popping out just a bit as his anger began to rise.

"... And I killed them…" The man in the chair sputtered as he doubled over his lap.

Jake started to swear in Spanish as he circled the man. He brought his hands up, and made a fist as his gloves changed. Small crescent moons appeared over his knuckles, and he cracked each one of them one by one, making a threatening round of popping and snapping noises.

"You stalked them, terrorized them, tortured them, violated them, and you pretend that saying you robbed and killed them is good enough for me?" Jaked smoothly mocked as he reached out and backhanded the man. The man hissed out in pain. Jake grabbed the bag over his head, purposely snagging the hair underneath in a painfully tight grip. He leaned in real close, hissing to the man writhing in pain.

"You fucking scum. All for shiny pieces of gold. That woman you put your hands on, was eight months pregnant. You left her to die in a dark place, alone, and clutching her husband's cold corpse. She died in the hospital, and they couldn't even save the child." Jake growled out the words with much venom as he let go of the man. He turned to you, checking to see if you were scared.

You were definitely scared, but you understood that Jake was here to punish a sick and twisted individual. Knowing that little fact, and hearing the accusations made you less inclined to look away or stop him.

This man deserved it just by what you heard from Jake.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to confess everything, and I am going to record it. Then, I'm taking you to the police."

Jake did exactly that. He set up a voice recorder and a burner phone you had not seen before. He forced the guy to admit to his wrong doings, and then he came over to you, pointing to the door. You turned and left, making sure not to make a sound as he grabbed garbage bags and took you to the cab out front.

"Cover the seat, both back and front, and the floor, please. I'd rather not have to clean his bodily fluids out of my car." Jake requested as he handed you the bags.

You got straight to work, quickly covering everything he had asked. By the time you had finished, Jake was dragging the man out on a flat loading dolly. He had his hands zip tied behind his back, his feet bound in the same manner. The bag was still secured to his head. Jake threw the guy into the back, then locked the door.

"I'm going to drop this poor excuse of a human being off to the authorities. I need you to stay here. Don't worry about cleaning the mess up tonight. We can worry about it tomorrow, when you're not wearing a beautiful dress. I should only be about thirty minutes, an hour, tops. Feel free to have some drinks. Khonshu should be here soon to keep you company." Jake explained what he was going to do, and that you needed to stay here for your own safety. Before he left, he retrieved his iPhone from your purse, and made sure it was charged enough before he departed with the thug in his car.

It wasn't too long after, maybe five or so minutes after he left, that the moon God showed up. Again he was in his white suit, and he stood before you, hand raised in greeting. You nodded to him and approached him.

"You just missed Jake, er, I mean unless you were just invisible and hanging out."

"No. I was busy. I see Jake has dealt with that man he was holding." He simply said. He watched you snoop in the fridge for a drink.

"Yeap. He's taking him to the police." You muttered back as you grabbed another cider.

"Good. The man is lucky to leave here with his life, though he would probably welcome death now, with what Jake has done to him." He said, and you almost asked, when he held up his hand.

"Don't ask, that's why the bag was on his head." He said, and you opened your second drink, taking a quick chug of the ice cold fluid.

"So…" You cleared your throat, looking at Khonshu, who was leaning against the wall, both arms crossed, his cane tucked into the crook of his arm.

"So what? Are you bored?"

"No. I mean, I just witnessed Jake bitch slap a man that stunk like a garbage dump. I am pretty sure Steven is traumatized…"

"What?!" Khonshu flung himself from the wall and towered over you. Both of his hands were balled into fists as he hissed.

Well shit.

"Uh, um…"

"Why is Steven traumatized!? He's not supposed to be up when Jake is controlling the body!"

"Well, I've got some news for you, you silly old bird. Steven has been aware all day, has met Jake, and he knows about you still being around. He was not happy about it." You informed Khonshu and he started grumbling under his breath.

"This is not good. He'll blab to Marc, and not is not a great time for shit to hit the fan-"

"Calm down. Steven was definitely more upset about the fact I met and fucked Jake first, and didn't tell him about it. From what Jake tells me, Steven's a bit excited to have your powers back. Said he would give Jake one month to get his shit together, before he goes and tells Marc." You interrupted him, and kept talking until his body relaxed. He plunked his cane down and leaned on it while he ran a gloved hand down his forehead and beak.

"Is he still mad at you?" He suddenly asked. It was weird how soft his voice was.

"A little bit, I think. He did apologize to me, so I think we're good."

***

The entire drive to the police station was mostly quiet, save for the radio that was playing 80's hits. The guy in the back was barely moving, but his occasional groan told Jake he was still very much alive. He had the front two windows down as far as they would go, in the hopes the smell would rush out the cab and not linger.

Steven was in the rear view mirror, and he was twiddling his thumbs as he nervously waited to get back to you. He didn't wish to ask Jake any questions while the man was still in the back seat, figuring Jake would be in a better mood once he was gone. Jake never looked at him, and once he got to the station, he parked a block away and dragged the guy into the back alley. Jake cuffed the guy to a large dumpster, and then he placed the evidence next to the man. With a grin, he kicked him one more time for good measure, and he went into the station.

Jake acted like he was a simple cabbie that barely understood English, one that happened to drive by. He told the cops the guy was beaten pretty badly, and they went to go claim him while he filled out a small police report using a fake name. He left into the shadows, and got back to his cab in record time.

'What the hell was the point in dragging her in to see you smack that guy around, Jake?' Steven suddenly popped up in the mirror. Jake started to laugh, the sound deep and utterly condescending.

"I need her help. She used to clean up crime scenes."

'You're not going to make her clean up blood and shit, are you?'

"Actually, yes. She's going to teach me how to do it myself, so I don't leave a trace. If she learns magic from Khonshu, then hopefully she can just make it all disappear a lot easier, making less work for us in the long run."

'He is going to teach her to use magic.' Steven parroting back in a snide voice.

'Why is he being nice to her?' Steven asked.

"He sees how happy she makes us. He knows she can see us as we are, the way we see each other. If we have something to protect, someone rather, we do a better job for him."

'But Marc left Layla because of Khonshu. What makes you think he won't do it again to try and keep this girl safe?'

"He won't run this time. We won't allow it, will we?" He said, and Steven puffed up a bit.

'Yeah… I don't wanna be alone anymore. I like how things are going with her.' When Steven said that, Jake let out an amused chuckle as he pulled back into the warehouse yard. He got out and removed the trash bags, dumping them into a large oil bin he used to burn things in.

"Besides, I can't imagine him wanting to be alone again, not when this one knows all the bad things about us, and continues to stick around. She told me she likes how smart you are, and how your little accent makes her squeeze her legs together. Pretty sure anytime you speak to her, her nipples are hard." Jake sneered at Steven, who was in the reflection of the cab's windshield. Steven felt a stirring of arousal at that knowledge, and he decided he would have to pay more attention from now on.

Back inside the warehouse, Khonshu was explaining how he teleported around, versus the way you did with the ring. He faded in and out as a misty light, choosing to keep his physical body and soul mostly in another plane, which was why he was so freaked out that you could touch him.

Jake strolled back into the break room without a care in the world as he went straight to the coffee pot and grabbed another. Khonshu came right up to him and you could tell he was glaring, mostly because his arms were crossed.

"I hear you have revealed yourself to the bookworm." Khonshu said, his voice showing irritation. Jake looked up at him and rolled his eyes as he waved him off.

"Don't worry about it. Steven is on board. He promised to keep us a secret from Marc for a month at the very least, so I suggest you start being nice to him." He replied calmly and turned around. He was quick to look around for Steven, spotting him in his mug.

"Right, hermanito?"

Steven sighed and nodded.

"Good."

***

I am sorry this took so long to produce. And for that, when it was finished, I didn't bother to run it through someone to proof read. Please enjoy, and comment if you want more.

Tags:

@snippychicke @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @queenotaku23 @clairewinchester14 @promiscuoussatan @mona-has-friends @lazyotakujen @timeless-crow @crazylittlereader2474 @misscaitygrace @ahookedheroespureheart @annoyingmarvelreader @saahmi @noahspector @uncle-eggy @bitchyexpertprincess

[walviemort]

hidden blessing (13/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.) rated T | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | part 12 | AO3 | 3.9k a/n: And we're back! I still have the next few chapters done, and the rest of 3B plotted. Thanks for not giving up on this!

Killian was surprised at how much relief he felt when the Storybrooke harbor came into sight. Being safely out of Neverland was certainly part of it, but seeing that quaint little town that was apparently working its way into his heart was its own kind of soothing. 

If he had to guess, the gentle but persistent kicking he was feeling from his baby echoed his own joy. 

That said—he did have to bite back a pang of loneliness at watching the reception his allies were given upon disembarking the ship; even Regina was hailed as a hero by the townsfolk that, he had thought, were generally distrustful of her. He stood on the gangplank watching the reunions and feeling very much like an outsider again. 

It wasn’t that he wanted attention or gratitude; he had just apparently come to enjoy the feeling of being included. 

(He was at least assuaged by the fact that Emma looked equally uncomfortable with all eyes on her and her family; the somewhat panicked look she shot his way once he eventually disembarked was met with a knowing nod.)

After confirming that the waters of Neverland were working on David for the moment, everyone began to dissipate and move back toward the center of town. He hung back, though, citing a need to fully secure the ship—and, frankly, he needed a moment alone to continue to convince himself that the babe was all he needed; that they were family enough (and more than he’d had in decades). 

(He did, however, miss the longing glance Emma gave him as she was ushered back into town by her parents and son. But as long as he wasn’t going anywhere, she’d have time to talk to him later. And maybe more.)

—---------------------

Later that day, after wrapping up on the ship and running another errand, he found himself with the rest of the crowd in Granny’s. As soon as he’d walked in the door, every single craving he’d had on the island came back to him at full force; he didn’t even know what to order. Granny chuckled when he explained the situation and told him she’d take care of it. He honestly didn’t recognize half the foods she gave him—some kind of fish, and perhaps some bacon?—but it was divine. (He couldn’t blame the sudden snugness of his vest on the babe alone.)

He was sipping on some ginger tea afterwards (lest that amazing meal come back up) when he cast a glance across the diner—and noticed Emma sitting there, with Henry. Much as he longed to join them, it was a stark reminder, as had been everything since they landed: his focus needed to be on his child, and nothing else, much as hers was likely on getting Henry settled back into his life here.

A presence was suddenly in his space, and Neal was sliding onto the stool next to him.

“Didn’t know you drank anything but rum,” he teased, nodding at the mug and then taking a sip of his own ale.

“As I understand, that wouldn’t be ideal for a fetus,” he replied. “And don't worry, I'm not here to pursue the Lady Swan.”

“Yeah, you're just here to enjoy Granny’s excellent cooking.”

“I am, actually. And I've made a decision when it comes to Emma: I'm gonna back off.

“Back off?” Neal sounded surprised.

“I have enough to focus on with impending parenthood; I don’t need to actively be throwing romance into that equation. Which I suppose lets you have a fair shot at her, without a devilishly handsome pirate standing in the way,” he winked, then finished his tea.

“You're serious?” He seemed genuinely touched.

“Yeah. I am devilishly handsome.”

Neal at least chuckled at that, and offered his glass in cheers. Killian obliged, but didn’t add on what he was really thinking: even if he wasn’t actively going to seek Emma out, he had no plans on going anywhere or leaving her presence. His priorities might lay elsewhere, but he was in this for the long haul; given the previous demise of Emma and Bae’s relationship, he wasn’t optimistic about a reunion.

But that was for the future. At present, he looked up to check the time on the clock—and cursed. “Damn; I’ve got to get to an appointment.”

“What, like a doctor appointment?” 

“Yeah; is that odd?” He’d gone to Doc’s office earlier to enquire if he had any availability to see Killian and was told to come back later—not long from now.

“You just don’t strike me as the type to seek out professionals.”

“No, not usually, but it’s not for me—it’s for this one,” he said, nodding at his belly. “Can’t be too careful when Neverland is involved.”

Neal winced. “Yeah, good plan. Hope it goes well, then,” he said, surprisingly sincere. 

“Thanks,” Killian replied as he hopped off the stool and threw some gold on the counter. “Until later.”

He’d hardly gotten outside Granny’s front gate and down the sidewalk when a familiar voice was calling for him. 

“Hook!” Emma shouted, then jogged to keep up when he paused. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere exciting,” he answered. “Just the obstetrician.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh, okay, then; just wanted to make sure you weren’t skipping town or anything.”

“What, afraid I’d leave without saying goodbye?” He felt slightly guilty for flirting after the conversation he’d just had with Bae, but he couldn’t help it if Emma was the one seeking him out. “Don’t worry—I would never.”

“You better not,” she said, and held his gaze. She wasn’t saying it verbally, but he understood the subtext clearly: she wanted him to stay—here, near her. And that meant more than he could express.

Her eyes darted to his lips, despite there being several feet between them; gods how he wanted to follow that train of thought, but perhaps making out in front of the diner where her ex (and the rest of her family) still sat wasn’t the greatest idea, especially since he still had somewhere to be.  

“Right, well, I don’t want to be late,” he finally said to break the silence and took a step in the direction of the doctor’s office, if only to break the tension between them. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she said quickly, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Uh, wait—do you want some company? At your appointment?”

He blinked; now he was truly surprised. “Why would you want to go to that?” he blurted out. 

“I mean, most people usually have someone with them at those—their partner, y’know, or a friend.”

Unable to resist the setup, he asked, “And which do you consider yourself, Swan?”

The subsequent eye roll was expected, but her sincerity wasn’t. “Look, I had to go through all of that with Henry on my own, and I always wished I had someone there with me. So, if you want someone, I’ll gladly go with you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but he simply didn’t have one. But the way he was suddenly holding back tears probably said enough. “I, uh,” he stammered. “I’d like that, if—if you’re sure.”

She gave him a small smile, then walked forward. “Well, come on; we don’t wanna be late.”

He watched her walk past him, still in awe, but finally came back to his senses when she yelled at him to hurry up. 

The entire concept of the “waiting room” at the doctor’s office was foreign to him, and frankly seemed unnecessary; it just gave him more time to worry about what the doctor might find. It was all he could do not to bounce his leg nervously as he sat in an uncomfortable chair next to Emma, who seemed to be reading a periodical.

But when he glanced over at her, her eyes were anything but focused on the pages. “Not a fan of the physician, eh?” he said, trying to refocus his nervous energy elsewhere.

She blinked and looked up at him, then chuckled half-heartedly. “No, it’s not that—although, yes,” she conceded. “I’m just worried about Henry.”

That, he understood. “He’s been through something traumatic; it likely takes some time to settle after that.”

She huffed a bit. “That’s what everyone keeps saying, but it’s not that. There’s something else…off, I guess.” Then she shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just imagining it.”

“Or maybe you’re not,” he countered. “Your instincts tend to be fairly solid, Swan; don’t ignore them if you think something is truly wrong.”

“Thanks,” she answered, giving him a small smile in return. “I just don’t know what it could be.”

“Perhaps—” he started, trying to help her brainstorm, but then his name was called out to go back to the exam room. Alas; they’d have to continue that train of thought later.

Having someone with him in the exam room was a completely different experience than his last couple of visits, and definitely for the better. If Doc was surprised by the change, he didn’t comment on it, and even though Emma politely averted her gaze during certain parts of the checkup, she was able to help answer some questions—like just how long they’d been in Neverland. 

“Just shy of three weeks,” she was answered confidently. “And you were at 16 when we left, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, astonished she remembered. “But I think Pan may have accelerated it a bit, at one point.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” she hissed, but still sat next to him during the sonogram; she’d already seen his belly at the lagoon, so he didn’t mind that exposure, but he wondered if she might get weirded out seeing the image of his insides. 

But then Doc said “huh” while he was scanning, and Killians heart stuttered. 

“What?”

“I can’t—find—“ Doc said while continuing to move the probe around. 

Killians breath hitched as he stared at the screen, waiting for something to appear. The babe couldn’t be gone—he could feel them still—no, please, no—

Then he jumped a mile when something touched his hand; he turned his head to see Emma slipping her hand around his and giving an encouraging smile. He couldn’t return it, but he took hold of hers and squeezed. 

“There they are!” His eyes darted back to the screen and he sighed; there it was—his babe. “They were hiding on us!” Doc said, chuckling, “but everything is looking good.”

What Pan said he’d done was accurate—he was around 18 weeks now—but they were there and they were healthy and that was all that mattered. 

He felt somewhat drained as he and Emma left the office, but ultimately relieved. “Thank you for coming, Emma; I’m...I can’t say how much it means that you were there,” he told her outside the office. 

“Like I said—no one should have to do that alone,” she said. “And honestly, it’s the least I can do. I’m glad I was there, too.”

“Would, uh,” he started, not sure how to ask the question he wanted to ask. “Do you want to…” How on earth did one ask the object of their affections to join them at the rest of their appointments to track the growth of the child they were having as a product of his relationship with said love interest’s would-be-mother-in-law?

“I will gladly go to the rest of them, if you want me there,” she said, smiling. 

Thank gods she figured it out. “Yeah, I would. Please.”

She just laughed at him and started to lead the way back into town. They were silent, but it was a comfortable quiet—although he did keep stealing glances her way, something she was apparently doing as well because they broke into a fit of juvenile giggles when they caught the other’s eye. 

The turnoff came to head to the marina, and sleep was calling his name again. “I’m afraid this is where we part,” he said. “Seriously—thank you.”

She waved it off. “It was my pleasure. But now that I’ve seen that kid, I’m gonna be making sure you’re taking care of them.”

“With my life.”

“That’s what worries me,” she teased, albeit with a serious edge. “Especially after Dark Hollow. Take care of yourself, too.”

“You have my word.” (She could have whatever of his words she wanted, if he was being honest.)

“Well, I’d like to make sure you are. Like, tomorrow, around lunch time, at Granny’s.”

“Why, Swan, are you asking me on a date?”

“No. I’m making sure you get decent food. Especially now that I know you’ve been craving grilled cheese.”

She had him there. “Alright, I will see you then. And maybe we can continue the earlier conversation, about Henry?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “See you then,” she farewelled with a grin. 

He started to walk away, but a crazy idea came over him. “Wait, Emma,” he called out, then jogged over to her as he fished out the envelope Doc had given him from his jacket. “Do, ah, do you want one?” he offered, holding it out to her. 

Now was her turn to be speechless; she blinked and stared at it in awe for a second. “An ultrasound picture? You’re asking if I want one?”

“Aye.”

She stared in shock for another moment, until a smile that was usually reserved for Henry took over. “Sure.”

He let her pick which of the few she wanted; she chose one with the baby’s fist extended. “Looks like they want to party,” she giggled. 

“Well, they’re all pirate,” he agreed, grinning. 

They parted for real then, with a promise to meet the next day. Apologies to Neal, but he couldn’t deny Emma anything. 

(He didn’t see it, but when Emma got in her Bug, she smiled at the sonogram, even giving it a little fist bump. “You’re gonna have a great daddy, kiddo,” she told it, “and I hope I’m a part of your life, too.”)

—-------------------------------------------

The next day, right around the time Emma had requested his presence, he slipped in the back door at Granny’s to meet her in the diner. But before he got that far, he ran into someone else—almost literally. “Oof—sorry; my apologies, Lady Bell,” he said, steadying her with his hand and hook. 

The fairy didn’t seem too bothered, though. “I’m alright; are you?”

“I’m fine, love,” he assured her. “Just need to pay more attention to what’s in front of me, apparently.”

“Daydreaming, huh?” she assessed, crossing her arms and smirking. “About the little one…or about Emma?”

How was she always able to read him so well? Was that a fairy thing? “Bit of both, I suppose,” he acknowledged, and told her about the appointment yesterday—both Emma’s presence at it, and the reassuring news he received. 

“That’s fantastic!” Tink gushed. “So do you think you’ll stay on the ship, or try to find some place to stay in town?”

The vision of Emma’s family’s flat swam into his mind; the Jolly Roger had long been his home, but he had to admit it wasn’t always the safest (or warmest) place. Perhaps he did need to find a more permanent mooring? (Maybe even in proximity to Emma’s home?) “I suppose I should start looking—”

He was interrupted by a most blood-curdling scream coming from outside. Bloody hell—they’d hardly been back a day; were crises this common here? “Then again, maybe not,” he quipped, and they quickly ran outside to see what was happening. 

Emma and her father were getting out of the prince’s truck (who, he had heard, was successfully cured of the dreamshade; Gold had held to his word, incredibly) as he and Tink emerged from the diner. 

“The hell was that?” she exclaimed as she walked over; he didn’t miss her glance between them, a curious look on her face, but hopefully she noticed the subtle shake of his head. 

“I have the same question,” he did add, though. 

The screaming occurred again, only louder.

“There,” David shouted, pointing in the direction of the sound, and took off running; the rest of them immediately followed (even though Killian had a feeling that exertion on an empty stomach was not going to be great for his nausea).

The sight that followed certainly didn’t help: near the steps of the convent, the mother superior was making a mad dash to get away from Pan’s Shadow. She nearly got inside, but the Shadow got there first—and wasted no time in tearing away her own shadow. 

Immediately, the nun collapsed on the sidewalk. David knelt down, looking for a pulse, but— “She's gone,” he said, aghast. (Killian began searching for the nearest bush to retch into; Doc said the nausea should be ending soon, but apparently not yet.)

“Why would the Shadow kill her?” Tink wondered aloud for all of them. 

“No idea, love,” he answered. “But I do know the Shadow only takes orders from one person.” That fact was also causing the twist in his gut. 

Emma found his eyes; her own were wide in shock. “Pan,” she said, confidently and horrified. 

While he was busy losing what little remained of his breakfast in the shrubbery, the rest of their little band arrived, no doubt also noticing the ruckus. Regina was understandably confused as to how the shadow could have broken free; Henry looked downright terrified. Neal was at least being pragmatic.

“Look, let's go back to the ship and get the candle. If it strikes again, we need to be able to capture it,” he said authoritatively, then turned to Killian. “Where’d you stash it?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and threw an apologetic look at Emma as he left; he didn’t dare mention their abandoned date in front of Neal.

Tink tagged along as well. “Didn’t we just do all this?” she complained.

“From what I’ve gathered, Storybrooke is just…like this,” he supplied.

“Sounds exhausting. Are you sure about staying, then?”

“Do you know of anywhere better?” he quipped back.

“You’re staying?” Neal asked as they approached the marina.

“Aye; is that so surprising?”

If he wasn’t mistaken, Neal was pouting. “I just figured it’d be back to the high seas.”

“With an infant on the way?” Tink interjected. “Are you daft?”

“I mean, houseboats are a thing,” he said quietly, but it was clear he wasn’t enthused by that news. Ah well—that was his issue to deal with, not Killian’s. Just because he wasn’t going to actively pursue Emma didn’t mean he was going to stop talking to her altogether. (And it really wasn’t his fault if that fact alone was threatening to Neal.)

It was both a comfort and a worry that the previously dark sail was back to its normal crisp white. All the more reason to track the shadow down again. 

“I know where the coconut is below deck; cover for me?” Tink asked. They obviously obliged. 

Both paced the deck, keeping an awkwardly safe distance between them. Killian took a moment to stop at the dockside railing, scanning both the sky and the skyline. 

As much as she’d been teasing, Tink’s comment was lingering. Did he truly want to settle down and raise a child in a place that seemed to attract danger?

Or did he want to fight to make it a safe place not just for his babe, but for everyone else here?

“When’d you do this?” Neal’s voice pulled him from his meditation; he stood on the quarterdeck, running his fingers along the wood behind the helm. 

Killian moved closer, ascending the steps. Neal was tracing the well-worn indentation behind the wheel—particularly, the lines he’d angrily dashed through the port and starboard symbols he drew for Bae all those years ago. 

“Right after the Lost Boys took you,” he said solemnly. 

“Trying to erase what you did?” There was an edge of venom in his voice. 

“Trying to erase my own hope,” he confessed. “Nothing excuses what I did—you suffered the most from my brash action—but I had been sincere in my desire to keep you here. I was angry at myself for destroying it; thus…” He waved his hook over the carvings. 

“I know,” Neal said, tracing the P. “I probably would have calmed down eventually, you know; I was an irrational teenager,” he chuckled. “But you were the adult.”

“Aye; right on all counts.”

“At least you get a second chance now. Don’t mess it up.”

“I don’t intend to.”

A look of understanding passed between them, despite the tension just a bit ago, and they nodded at each other. 

A moment later, Tink emerged with the coconut, just as Neal’s talking device went off. (Perhaps Killian needed to get his hands on one of those? They seemed to be rather useful.)

“Okay; we’ll be right there,” Neal said, then pocketed the object. “Everyone’s meeting at Regina’s vault. We good to go?”

“I certainly am,” Tink said, raising the coconut. 

“Aye; let’s get this over with once and for all,” Killian agreed, and they set back off across town. (He’d read that continued activity was good for the baby; with the number of times he’d traversed the town, they were sure to be in good health.)

His blood nearly froze in his veins, though—despite the exertion—once they reached the cemetery. He expected to see the usual band of heroes, and the Crocodile, but—what the bloody hell was Pan doing there?

And, even worse—why was Neal running towards him?

Killian’s hand instinctively drifted to his sword, convinced they were running headlong into a trap.

“Is it really you?” he heard Neal say from afar.

“Dad,” Pan said—though, it evidently was not the demon child. Killian looked towards Emma, hoping she could read the look of confusion that was surely on his face. Her mouth was a thin line but she nodded; they were good enough at nonverbal communication at this point that he could tell: somehow, Pan and Henry had switched bodies. 

(He could wait until later to congratulate her on knowing something was off; but first, they had to get through this.)

David asked if they’d found the Shadow; they showed him the empty coconut in response. The fact that it was still on the loose—paired with the realization that Regina’s vault was magically locked, with both her and Pan-as-Henry inside—was more than his uneasy stomach could take, and he had to step aside to retch again, though little came up.

As he was hunched over behind a random headstone, he felt a caress on his back; Emma gave him a consolatory rub, before seeking her own solitude further away (though her parents were quick to follow).

Everyone’s nerves were palpable as they waited for the Dark One to gain entrance to the vault—then even more on edge once he got through and headed in, with Emma and her parents in tow. He tried to give her an encouraging nod when she looked back over her shoulder at him before descending, but doubted it was convincing.

He paced; Tink perched on a stone; and Neal looked after Henry-as-Pan while they waited for news.

Finally, the others returned, Regina in tow, with the worst news possible:

Pan had escaped—and he’d taken the Dark Curse with him.

Fear like he hadn’t known yet immediately ran through Killian’s body, and his hand rushed to cover the spot where he could feel his babe’s equally nervous wiggles. For the first time, he was genuinely frightened they might fail. Gods above, what was happening?

—------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38​​​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​​​​​ @superadam54​​​​​​​ @ashley-knightingale​​​​​​​​​​ @justsomewhump​​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[candied-boys]

Long Hot Summer

Luke Randolph x fem! Reader

Part one of two

Themes: small town country life, cowboys & ranching, childhood friends to lovers, separation and reunion, modern AU

Warnings: Implied underage sex (but sixteen seems fair to me because country life). Mentions of neglect and abuse, poverty. This story follows the themes of Luke's route. If you haven't read it this could spoil it and or be very upsetting.

He was a problem child.

Your parents warned you to stay away from him and his family when they moved into the little pink house next door, but in a town as small as yours, a new kid was a rare sight no six-year-old could resist.

Kicking your boots off on the back porch of the antebellum mansion you follow the familiar aroma of a hearty breakfast through the screen door. Just like every morning on the ranch, you're greeted with plates upon plates of home-smoked bacon, buttermilk biscuits, sausages with gravy, grits, steak, and eggs done six ways to Sunday.

The master chef behind the fabulous spread stands in the grand kitchen humming to himself dressed in his perfectly starched and ironed pink gingham apron.

“Mornin’ Yves,” you chirp and he turns to welcome you with a big hug. “Y’ miss me?”

“Did I ever! I oughta try leavin’ you alone for a week to fodder and clean up after seven cowboys! Well, eight now. Lawdy, I had one hell of a time, I'll tell you! Good to have you back, buttercup.”

“Whaddya mean eight? Last I counted there were only seven of y'all,” you query in confusion as you fasten your apron strings.

“Well! You'll never believe what that ol’ muleskinner brought home while you were out of town!!” the blond cook exclaims, one arm akimbo and the other waving a wooden spoon at you.

You raise a brow. “The only thing that snake eyed lawyer brings home is paperwork and lawsuits.”

Switching to flipping two rows of hotcakes across the length of the griddle Yves scoffs, “Oh, this ain't no libel. Not this time. Aw naw. This time he's done gone and found another one of us! Like seven weren't enough!”

“You're not serious?” you counter incredulously.

“Believe me, honey, good as money in the bank; if he ain't that old cow rustler’s son, none of us are. He's the spittin’ image of him when he was our age — strappin’ redhead and tall as all get out, he is."

You never did meet the tycoon who inherited the Rholodite Ranch. By the time you had started working at the ranch after high school he was already in a care facility. But the one thing you do know is that he — for lack of a better phase — had a way with women. More wives than you care to count and a few too many mistresses. It shouldn't be a surprise that there's another offspring, but still. Eight.

You shake your head in wonder. “Why'd nobody know about him all this time?”

“Well, you know Sareil’s been tryin’a settle the estate since the ol’ man kicked the bucket? Turns out that the will was changed at the last minute to include a potential unnamed eighth recipient. All that was written was the first name of the mother, so Sariel's been on a wild goose chase ever since.”

“And now he's found the kid?���

“He did. And sure ‘nuff it's another brother. Would you believe it? Eight of us. What I'd give to have just one sister like you, peaches.”

“Awww. You're sweet, Yves.”

“Not as sweet as you. Now run along and set the table for me, will you?” he insists and loads up your arms with as many plates as you dare to carry.

While you busy yourself arranging heaping platters of hot vittles all around the boys start filing in. Chattering on or proceeding in silence, they each greet you in their own way as they take up their usual seats. By the time you're on your third round laying out dishes most of them are seated and you've started pouring coffee.

“There she is!” a boisterous voice rings from beside you as your shoulders are wrapped in a one arm hug by the oldest. “We sure missed you, doll. Grub just don't taste the same without your purdy face ‘round.”

“It's good to be home,” you smile as he kisses your cheek.

“Oh, Luke, got somebody for you to meet,” he calls behind you over his shoulder.

You flinch at the name — a million memories passing through you as swiftly as a breeze in the boughs of a willow tree — but just as quick you fix your smile and turn around to greet the stranger.

It's been five long years, yet you remember that gentle, verdant gaze like it was yesterday.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

He was a problem child.

Your parents warned you to stay away from him and his family when they moved into the little pink house next door, but in a town as small as yours, a new kid was a rare sight no six-year-old could resist.

Wary, and unsociable, the redheaded boy was skinny and unkempt. Try as you might, you couldn't wring a word out of him while you waited side by side for the bus in the mornings.

Still, for some reason you never quite figured out, you were always catching yourself looking at him. Checking over your shoulder on the bus to see which seat he took, side glancing in class to check if he was paying attention, peeking out your bedroom window to watch him poking around in his backyard.

It didn't take more than a week to realize he never brought a lunch to school. You didn't have the vocabulary to put a name to the abuse at your age, but you could sense it. Between his neglected appearance, silent and solitary behaviour, and how boney he looked under those baggy clothes, you just knew something wasn't right.

While your mama was busy getting ready for work after breakfast, you started sneaking into the kitchen to fill another brown bag with whatever you could and shove it in your backpack before she caught you. Yet the boy was no friendlier for your unsolicited offering.

Stubborn as a mule, you weren't discouraged. At some point, something changed, though you can't remember what anymore, and by second grade you were best friends. You spent your afternoons playing with him and his baby sister in your backyard, building sandcastles and pushing her on the baby swings in your playset.

Years passed like this. The next distinct memory you can recall is from when you were both finally old enough to go to the county fair together without your parents. You must have been about ten or eleven because you remember Leyla wasn't in school yet.

You pet the baby goats and ponies and ducks and sheep and looked up at the llamas in awe as if they were giraffes. If it weren't for him hauling you off and promising to make you a better bear, you would've got roped into those lousy carnival games and lost all your pocket money. Instead you spent it all on the kiddy rides watching Leyla squeak in delight and strawberry candy apples that were as red as his hair.

There was so much laughter then. Comparing whose tongue was the brightest colour, gleefully watching the kids entertainment shows where dogs and pigs to tricks, beaming in amazement at the wonders the face painters could do with so few colours.

Those were the best days — when you could spend all day in and after school together. High school was different. Kids get vicious. By thirteen the others had figured out why he looked so different. They called him a bastard, said his mother was a whore, and took turns mocking his oversized clothes and lanky physique. He didn't give a lick, but they got him good when they started talking shit about his little sister. It didn't take long before he got expelled for knocking out a few teeth.

After that, he was working all the time. If it wasn't full-time he'd be working two jobs. He grew a lot taller for finally being able to buy his own food, filled out a lot too for eating well and stocking shelves all day.

You missed hanging out at school, but he seemed happy. He often told you how he loved spoiling Leyla with goodies he could now afford, or how much she loved his cooking with all the new ingredients he could buy. Once he confessed he had started putting away what he could for her to go to college. He figured with more than ten years to save he'd make it work.

His first goal though was to get a better job and for that he needed a truck.

It was the year you both turned sixteen. A hot day in mid August. The crunch of gravel in the driveway wasn't the familiar roll of the sedan. You knew without looking through the window what it meant and rushed out, letting the screen door bang shut in your wake.

“Luke! You got it! You finally got it!!”

“Sure did. ‘94 Dodge Ram half-ton with a V8 engine. Older than both y’ or me, but she still runs good,” he tells you with pride as he hops down out of the driver's seat. “Wanna take ‘er for a spin?”

“Can I drive it?” you ask, eyes alight and pleading up into his verdant gaze at least a foot above.

He chuckles with that soft smile he only shows you and his best girl.

“When we get out on the backroads I'll teach y’ to drive stick. This ain't y’r mom's station wagon, sugar,” he teases and easily picks you up by the waist to put you in the cab before he climbs in after you.

Riding shotgun you watch as he shifts into reverse and backs out of your driveway. The way he throws one arm across the headrest to look over his shoulder is candid, unposed, and yet…

The concentration in his face, no longer as round and boyish as it was even last year…

The sharp angle of his jaw where it meets his shaggy, rust-red locks…

The line of carved marble guiding your eyes down to the neck of his faded t-shirt…

Each one has your heart beating in your throat, but you're a second too late to avoid getting caught staring when you glance at the dashboard. As he pulls out onto the road, you glimpse his lazy smile tugging a little wider from of the corner of your eye and hunt for anything else to pay attention to.

Turning the dial on the stereo and popping in the cassette you relax into the seat as he drives out of town, but by the third song in your heart is racing again.

“Is this the mix tape I made you a couple years ago?” you ask during the silence when the tape needs flipping.

One arm out the window he hums, “Mmhmm,” in his slow drawl. “There’s more in the glovebox if y’ wanna listen to sommin’ else.”

As fast as the breeze whipping through the rolled down windows, you crack the box to discover every tape you ever gave him over the last ten years and nothing else. Closing the compartment and gazing out over the corn fields coming into view you hide the smile stealing across your lips.

Half an hour later you're in the driver's seat, hip to hip with him where he keeps one hand around your waist and the other on the shift stick so he can handle switching gears until you get used to the clutch.

“Gettin’ purdy good, sugar. Think y’ can do it by y’rself now?”

You shake your head, wanting to keep him close just a little longer. But Luke's a tease, and next thing you know he's dropped his grip on the drive shaft and refuses to take it back even as you squeal in panic.

“C’mon. Y’ can do it. Just keep one hand on the wheel and the other on the knob,” he coaxes next to your ear in that ever-calm tone.

When you’re forced to reach out and change gears at a crossroads you find his hand over your own as you make the switch down two speeds until you stop, then back up with each press of the clutch. Even at full throttle his hand doesn't leave yours.

The sky has donned her gold and vermillion chiffon by the time Luke takes the wheel again, but just as quickly she's doffed her gilt embellishments in favour of shimmering silver stars.

The silence of the stereo is soon interrupted by the rush of a river when he pulls up at the end of a dirt road and shuts off the engine. Darkness thickens as the headlights fade until the moonless sky is cut in half by an ephemeral streak of glitter.

“Luke! Did you see it?! There was a shootin’ star!” you chirp and eagerly hop out of the truck for a better view.

He jumps out too, but doesn't seem to share your enthusiasm. After spotting another and still getting no reply, you go around back of the tailgate and find him busy laying out sleeping bags atop a roll of foam in the bed of the pickup.

“This is just the beginnin’. There's a meteor shower tonight.”

You can hear the gentle smile in his voice better than your unadjusted eyes can see it, and you can't resist the way its warmth draws you in. Climbing up and kicking off your shoes, you flop down on the makeshift bed with a giggle.

Before he has a chance to do the same you snatch his sleeping bag and unzip it all the way, then do the same with yours and zip them together.

“It'll be warmer this way…” you mumble at his quirked brow and “What'd y’ do that for?”

“Yeah, a’right,” he murmurs back and slips into the space next to you, but he keeps his distance unlike the way he kept you so close this afternoon.

Maybe the driving lessons gave you a confidence boost, or maybe you're just a little tired of waiting for him to make a move. Either way, you know you want the years of flirting, bashful glances, and this crush going nowhere to end. Tonight if you have any say in it.

“Um, hi?” he breathes when you manoeuvre his arm over your shoulder and under your head to nuzzle into him.

“You forgot pillows…”

It's a lame excuse but it's true.

Tentatively you lay a palm on his chest, and just as hesitantly his free hand covers it. You snuggle in until there's no space between your bodies. The arm around your shoulders tucks your crown under his chin. His pulse racing beneath his ribcage echoes in your ear and your sure yours is pounding just as hard.

“Maybe I shoulda just brought one sleeping bag, huh?” he makes an awkward attempt at conversation.

Hopeful and nervous you choose your words carefully. “Next time.”

He only nods. There in his warm embrace you watch the stars fall to the soundtrack of your beating hearts and the crickets singing.

“Aren't they pretty, Luke?” you whisper after a while and reach out a hand to the heavens.

“I'll catch y’ one some day if y’ want,” he whispers back and stretches out his arm to entwine his fingers oh so gently in yours.

“Put it on a ring where it can shine real bright…” he says as he finds your gaze.

His name hardly makes it past your lips for the emotion welling in your throat.

Even under the midnight sky his pale green eyes are as captivating as sparkling dew caught in meadow sunshine.

“I know they say we're just kids, but I don't think I'll ever find somebody else I could care ‘bout like this…”

His gaze is coloured with the lingering pain of sixteen years of neglect and rejection.

“Y're the only one for me…”

The truth you've known for a long time now bubbles up easily with a smile as you lean in to kiss him.

“I love you, Luke. So much.”

Soft, tender pecks quickly gave way to deeper and deeper kisses as if he longed to make up for all those love-starved years he'd suffered. Yet he was so gentle, worshipping every inch of your body, never letting his eyes stray from yours as you drowned in each other's love.

In that warm afterglow, he held your trembling form beneath him so tight you were pressed cheek to cheek. Looking up over his broad shoulders, you made a wish on a shooting star that this love would last forever.

The next day he was dead.

Part two

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Fic background ask question! You mentioned that you chose House Costayne for Otto’s mother’s house, what drew you to that house specifically? Did that house influence Otto or his mother in any specific way? 🖤💛

Ahh, thank youu! This is gonna be very long & rambly, so I'm putting it under a cut

So, ngl, I haven't fleshed out Hobert & Otto's mom a whole lot--and given that Steffan Rhodri (Hobert's actor) & Rhys Ifans are both in their mid 50s when HOTD starts, it feels like a safe assumption that both their parents are probably dead & not just their dad. So I've been working with the assumption that Unnamed Costayne Mother had them a bit later in life & has been dead since my fic started (not unlike Lord Yorbert Royce, but hers was just plain "being old" instead of cancer). So you can see why I thought "maybe I don't need to do a whole bunch with her," especially given how expansive the cast of the fic already is.

Mostly, I picked her being part of House Costayne because I thought it would be so silly if Hobert & Otto just were the cousins of Ella, Yorick, & Aemon's uncle. A kind of Five Degrees of Kevin Bacon thing. So many people are so many other people's cousins in my fic that it's just very "Why not? It's very silly at this point." So that's why those guys' mom is the paternal aunt of Lord Owen Costayne, who is Lady Rhea Royce's brother-in-law (the one she likes). It's funny to me if those two guys are related to Stoic Sports Man Who Lets His Wife Peg Him & have that much more connection to my main OCs (especially since Otto is beefing with Yorick when he's a literal small child for no other reason than "this is my rival's son").

The secondary, & less crucial to my decision making, reason I picked House Costayne is that if I'm already altering canon so much in terms of shuffling some of the Dance alliances around, & was already planning to make the Costaynes be with The Greens because them siding against their liege lords apropos of nothing didn't make sense to me, then why not just give them a whole bunch of connections there? I'm already giving House Costayne a reason to side with Aegon (their Lady is the aunt of my OCs), so let's just make Lord Owen be Otto's cousin too! So it's really more "just tie these guys to the Hightowers even more than they were before."

A thing to remember about me is, "yes I know the lore, but I also sometimes forget it." This is how we get things like "I accidentally made Borros Baratheon have a connection to Criston Cole because I forgot which house Criston's dad works for" & "I accidentally made implications that Otto is, like, probably the nephew of Elinor Costayne." So that's fun. SOTF Version of Ser Otto Hightower, man that you are. Being Hand for 3 Targaryen Kings (pay no attention to him getting fired twice) while also very much having a mom who was directly related to one of the Black Brides. I have Elinor in my big, main family tree & still forgot that implication & it makes everything have directly trackable motivations, but also be so, so much funnier. Hand to the guy who almost killed Maegor out of some weird sense of ambitious gratitude (the throne beat Jaehaerys to it, & honestly, slay), Hand to that guy's grandson to try & nip future problems in the bud (& stay on that bureaucratic grindset), beef with your boss's brother because "I don't like his vibe. He might try some fuckshit--don't you remember what happened last time one of you guys had a little brother with a wife he disliked & zero enrichment in his enclosure?," spend the rest of his life trying to head off issues that may or may not exist. I'm not saying I've made Otto an unintentional hero or that he's justified & absolved in anything, because he absolutely 10000000% is not. I'm saying I've made him be a character in a workplace comedy who thinks he's in a prestige drama, because SOTF is a comedy actually.

The weird cocktail of "your dad was an overly strict prick with standards in the stratosphere who never said he was proud or hugged either of you," & "equally kind of cold & pragmatic mom who had to helplessly watch as her relative was forced to marry The Actual Worst Guy To Happen To Westeros So Far & just never recovered" is what made Hobert & Otto Like That