#christmas tree...of life? hm...

[toastereno]

here's my piano cover of "tree of life - roots" from super mystery dungeon! aka one of the most godlike dungeon themes ever

(didn't have time to draw for this one unfortunately 😔 i might post an art for it sometime later)

[starsofang]

simon riley x blind!reader requested by @wareagleofthemountain <3 tw: none!

Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. He didn’t attach himself to people, and interactions with strangers with the intent of becoming more than that was a far-fetched idea for somebody like him. Being on his own was something he greatly preferred, and his task force were the only people he ever needed.

That was what he thought, anyway, up until you.

Even when you had accidentally bumped into him in the middle of a rundown convenience store late at night, you didn’t cower away from him. The sight of his mask didn’t cause you to turn away and mumble out a half-assed apology in order to leave his vicinity as quickly as possible, and at first, he didn’t understand.

That was until he noticed the furball standing next to you, staring up at him as if scolding him for getting in the way. The harness was glaringly obvious now that he looked at it, and he felt a bit stupid for not noticing it in the first place. You had a guide dog, with words boldly lettered indicating that you were blind.

“I’m so sorry!” you said, and he caught himself staring at you as you began rambling out genuine, sweet apologies, explaining that you didn’t mean to bump into him, that you hoped you didn’t hurt him by accident.

Simon didn’t get attached to people, no. But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice cute people who had hearts of gold that made his look rotten in comparison.

“S’alright,” he assured you, fighting so hard to push back the smile that threatened to curl up under his mask. Smiling meant he felt amused, and amusement meant he saw something in you that intrigued him. “What’s his name?”

When he asked about your guide dog, you practically lit up like a damn Christmas tree and oh, he was fucked. That smile wasn’t fair.

“Peanut,” you introduced affectionately, and when he glanced down at your dog, Peanut, the little thing looked almost prideful at that.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, and before he could detach himself from the conversation, before he could bid you farewell and leave you behind for good, he found himself speaking once more. “And yours?”

Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. But you did, and he found himself so engrossed in you, he couldn’t ever imagine life without you.

He thinks fondly of the day you two met, where he was in a mindset of pushing everybody around him away. He’d never given himself an opportunity to live a normal life, then you came around and had him seeking out the future.

The future was never a possibility until you, nor was it a possibility without you in it.

Simon never made you feel incapable just because you were blind. You had worked your way around the world just fine before him, and you’d continue to do it during him.

That didn’t mean he never tried his best, though. In fact, Simon took pride in helping you out with things as his way of showing his undying love for you. He may not have been the most affectionate person physically, but doing things for you was his favorite form of care.

Cooking was one of many. Simon was naturally a lover of cooking, so teaching you how to do it was something he took to almost immediately.

When it came to chopping vegetables, he’d gently guide your hands with his own, closed around the kitchen knife and showing you how to chop away without nicking yourself. If it was an excuse to hold your hand and watch your joyful smile light up your face, he’d never admit it.

He’d explain every step of a recipe to you, wanting to give you your independence of cooking on your own while also involving himself enough to be useful. He’d explain in soft ways how to properly cook meat, how to make sure it’s not undercooked or overcooked, guiding you through every part of the meal and watching with pride when you’d figure it out after a few trial errors.

Simon had never thought a meal could taste so good until it was cooked by the one you adore.

Reading was something you could do on your own. Your entire collection were books geared towards your blindness to help make it more accessible to you, but Simon quickly found out that he specifically liked reading for you.

It became routine in your apartment, the one that he was staying in so much that it might as well had been his as well, for the two of you to snuggle up close on the couch with a book you mentioned hearing about in those silly videos you listen to on your phone. His arm would tuck you into his side while the other held the book he’d gone out for, venturing to find (even if it took going to multiple stores), while Peanut laid content at your feet.

The books might not have been his personal favorite, but he’d spend every night reading them to you, his voice soft and quiet as they executed every page. You’d listen with a smile on your face, head resting in the pit of his shoulder, allowing the warmness of his voice send you into a peaceful serenity that almost always had you falling asleep twenty pages in.

Simon never minded that you’d fall asleep, and with a sweet kiss on your head, he’d string you along to bed, bookmarking the book for the next night when he’d read to you once again.

Being blind had never bothered you, and it was something you were never embarrassed or ashamed of.

Simon aided you in whatever you needed, but never made you feel an inkling of being broken or unable. He was passionate in the way he cared for you, while remaining stern in letting you be your own person.

The one thing that did bother you was that you’d never be able to see Simon’s face for all the true glory it was. The man you’d come to love over the time spent together was so close to you, yet felt so far when your brain would remind you that you didn’t know what he looked like.

The more time went on, the more you failed to grasp on to those strings, enough for Simon to take notice. When you finally had the gall to express this concern of yours, he understood completely why you’d upset yourself over it.

Thankfully for you, Simon had an easy fix for that.

“No need to worry yourself over that, sweetheart. Here.”

You may not have been able to see him, but you could feel him. Simon took your soft hands into his own, gently guiding them to cup his face. He bore himself naked to you, adorning no mask, all scars and rugged skin on display.

Your fingers traced along every feature of his, taking it in and mapping them out. You felt the thickness of his brows, trailing down to the flutter of his eyelashes, gently swiping your thumbs across them. You felt every bump of old, healed scars that indented his skin, every prickly stubble of his unshaven face.

You may not have been able to see him, but you knew he was beautiful.

Simon didn’t rush you. He remained patient and willing, face relaxed as you felt every crevice and divot. Your fingers were so careful in the way you handled him, like dealing with fragile glass, that he could’ve easily fallen in love with you a second time.

“You’re pretty,” you breathed out, hands halting their movements to lay flat on his cheeks. You were holding the world in your hands, and after getting a feel of what lay beyond it, you never wanted to let go.

Your words had dazed him, and he felt his mouth go dry as he stared at you, sinking in your own lovely features just as you did his own.

Simon had no words to speak back to you, but you knew what he was thinking without him having to say it – he loved you, more than any word could express.

Simon might not have been the type of person to get attached. You were the last thing he’d been looking for in life, but you came rushing into him like a flood, engulfing him in a forever calmness.

His body was permanently sinking in a sea of passion, and you were the life vest keeping him afloat.

i promise i didn't forget about u lovie! work was a bit crazy and my brain was a bit fried but it's here and i sincerely hope u enjoy it! thank u for the request, i love soft simon sm

[igotanidea]

Christmas party: Aaron Hotchner x reader

christmas bingo day 2 : christmas party

***

Third annual BAU Christmas party was supposed to be the most important thus far.

Partially because Y/N could not attend previous two, due to her shot injury in year one and some family matters in year two.

But the other reason why it was so crucial, was that she was going to go with Hotch. And not just as BAU colleagues and team mates.  

No.

They were going as couple, though Hotch with his reserved persona and everything that happened in his love life before, was fairly reluctant to use this tag to describe them.

And Y/N understood this perfectly.

But Hotch’s harshness and skin deep coldness was not going to take away her excitement and holiday spirit.

Especially not after the little shopping spree with Emily, JJ and Penelope.

Y/N found just the right dress, fitting her body like a glove and was trying it one once again in the peacefulness of the house spinning around in front of the mirror, admiring how good it lied down, when a single sound of throat clearing threw her back to reality.

„Haley is sick.” Hotch said as if that was explaining everything. He had his signature unreadable expression and slight frown on the face, but for a second even the chief of the BAU couldn’t cover the tiniest glint in his eyes as he noticed Y/N’s new purchase.

„Hm. Okay....” she muttered in response. She really didn’t like it when Aaron mentioned his ex-wife. „Thanks for the information, but I think you missed steps 1-5 of why does this concern me.”

Maybe it was a bit heartless and cruel of her to say it, but truly no one could blame her for getting a bit possessive and jealous. After all, Haley was the woman he had a son with - oh wait, a son. All of a sudden she realised what this was about and looked at Hotch with poorly hidden disappointment in her eyes.

„I have to take care of Jack.” he just said and she filled in the rest.

They were not going to go.

She opened her mouth and closed them almost instantly. There were so many ideas in her head of how to remedy this sudden emergency. Jack’s grandparents, who would most definitely love to have the little boy over for a few hours. A babysitter. A night kindergarten. Or maybe they could left Jack sleeping through the night hoping he would not wake? Besides, was Hayley really so sick that she couldn’t have her son around her? Maybe she was just doing this on purpose cause she wanted Hotch back in her life, despite being the one to divorce him? There must have been a way for Aaron to still attend the banquet...

 And that’s when it hit her.

She was being a terrible person having thoughts like that.

Jack was just a little boy, not a bargaining chip. And trying to come up with a plan to get rid of him (in some way,even if just temporarily) was straightforward cruel and completely heartless. Honestly, at this point Y/N was ashamed of herself and of putting her own needs and wishes to show off as couple before standing by Hotch’s side.

„Y/N.” he said again with that deep, calm voice letting her know that he already analised her behaviour and face expression enough to know what was going on in her head.

„I’m sorry...” she muttered

„I can’t go the Christmas party.” he stated

„Oh, cause you wanted to attend it so much, right?” she rolled her eyes and chuckled causing him to lift the right corner of his mouth.

„But you wanted to.”

„Doesn’t matter.” she shook her head „three time’s the charm, maybe next year I’ll have more luck to actually get drunk and make a scene legitimately.”

„Y/N. You can still go by -”

„Nope.  Not a word Hotch. Not going without you. We’re a team remember. Not just as work. Not leaving you. Besides, I got a feeling it’s time for me to properly meet your son, don’t you think?”

***

Hotch didn’t say a word of objection and even though he never showed it, he was melting (inside) watching Y/N playing with Jack next to the Christmas tree. They were both splayed on the warm blanket on the floor, their happy faced illuminated by the Christmas light making them look like home. And when they both fell asleep on the couch, Jack holding onto Y/N with his little fingers wrapped around her midsection Hotch was pretty convinced that no fancy party could be better than this view in front of his eyes,

@somest1

[seullovesme]

first snow » kang seulgi

pairing ⥬ seulgi x f!reader

genre ⥬ fluff (but also angst i think?)

summary ⥬ as you talk to your wife, seulgi, about memories you shared together, your child interrupts the moment

warnings ⥬ n/a, insinuated death

WC ⥬ 805

"Do you remember the first time we watched the snow together? We were so young and in love, and we held hands under the giant tree in my front yard as you cheered and pointed at the small snowflakes that fell. I was so caught up in admiring your beauty that I missed the first five minutes of snowfall. You were just so pretty, I couldn't take my eyes off of you.

After you complained that I was missing the snowy scene, I laughed and looked away from you to see the snow hit the ground, turning the grass and roads white. You tightened your grip on my hand which got my attention, and I saw you smiling so widely with your love-filled eyes meeting my own.

That's when I knew I wanted to spend all my years with you, growing old and smelly together. At the age of 16, I chose you to be my partner for life.

Today, the exact same day and place 22 years later, our six year old watched her first snow. I held her tiny hand as she laughed and giggled, pointing at the snowflakes.

I watched her so intently, her adorable smile strongly resembling yours. I tried not to break down and cry because I didn't want to ruin a core memory by being an emotional wreck. Our daughter's first snow.

She also got upset that I wasn't looking where she was pointing, just like you had that day. She kept pulling my arm over and over till I listened, that ball of sunshine was so stubborn. Hm, our daughter got your stubbornness and your cute smile. What a fatal combination.

I spent that day adoring her silly rambles and her goofy antics. She really reminds me of you, dear. I—"

"mommy! mommy?!" your child called out as she walked on the concrete path. you turned to see her searching for you and you smiled at the sight of her small figure dressed in her pink dress and puffy coat looking high and low for you. because you were sitting on the ground, it was pretty hard for her to spot you.

"over here!" you shouted. she turned to the direction you called from and her face immediately brightened as she took off, sprinting to you. she jumped on you, tightly hugging you with her short arms wrapping around your neck. you hugged her torso, warming her up on such a cold day.

you pull away and rubbed her shoulder's. "auntie joohyun told me to come and check on you! she said that we should go soon because it's cold and you might get sick. i don't want you to be sick.." she frowned and you pinched her cheek, making her smile again so easily.

"what did i do to deserve such a caring baby, hm?" you asked with a baby voice.

"i'm not a baby, i'm already six!" she giggled, her eyes turning to crescents. your heart swelled, her joyful expression so similar to her mother's.

"okay, okay."

"were you talking to mommy?" she questioned, looking at the spot where you were talking.

you smiled. she's always so curious. "yep! i'll teach more about her at home, yeah?" she nodded rapidly. "alright, let's go to auntie joohyun?"

she cheered, jumping up and down, excited to go home and hear what you were going to say. you loved your daughter and her silliness. "say bye to mommy seulgi, dear."

"bye mommy!" your daughter said with a big smile. she walked over to the grey headstone and hugged it, just as tightly as she hugged you. you felt the need to shed all the tears that were threatening to fall, but you held strong. "mommy is going to tell me more about you and all the cool things you did when you were small, she said you were the coolest! i hope to be cool like you too when i grow up. bye bye, i love you mommy! merry christmas!"

she let go and went to your side, holding onto your pant leg. you stared at her name engraved onto the headstone, quietly thinking to yourself for a moment.

you took in a deep breath. "i love you, dear. merry christmas." you whispered, hoping seulgi could hear your words. you took your six year old's hand and walked out of the cemetery with a painful smile on your face.

as you followed the concrete path, a small snowflake fell, many more following after. you looked around and saw that it began snowing, and you felt a sensation in your chest, not pain, but an indescribable feeling of comfort and sadness in one.

maybe the snow was her way of letting you know she heard. you also like to think that she was also the one who made it snow on your daughter's first snow.

[garoujo]

・✶ ｡ﾟ you’ve gotten used to your christmas’ with gojo.

♱ warnings — sfw! family!au [you have a daughter], tiny bit of suggestiveness, a little christmas drabble since it’s the season >_< / note. hewo ! i wanted 2 a little thing 4 christmas since i looove it so i hope u guys enjoy it 4 our beloved gojo < 3

it’s dim in the living room of your home apart from the warm hue of the lights on the tree, and your chest warm as you watch gojo clumsily place his foot around the presents you both have scattered along the floor. his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he concentrates on sliding the presents for your daughter you’re handing him under the tree.

and he looks at you, his hand outstretched to take the next one and he shoots you a more handsome, lazy grin when he realises you were already looking at him.

“oh, didn’t expect santa to be this handsome, sweet thing? don’t worry he’s got somethin’ special f’ you.” gojo whispers, teasing before he’s snorting to himself when you roll your eyes and hand him the next one. but you feel a smile tug at the corners of your lips when his hand lingers over yours a little longer, because this was truly the good part of life.

“hm, our princess ‘s gonna love this.” gojo breathes as he pushes the next present under the tree and you watch him soften before he smiles this time.

his crystalline eyes are shinier when they look at you, and you feel your heart melt because you know he’s always felt a little more than everyone else despite the way he tried to hide it.

he sighs, but it’s a content sort of sound, leaning over to pull you in his arms without actually checking whats at his feet, before he almost slips on wrapping paper that you’d told him to clean up too many times for you to count.

except you both freeze when gojo yelps after, slapping his hand over his mouth with wide eyes as he watches you internally panic at the loud sound—your daughter.

the good part of life, you think again, looks so much like this.

it looks like you and your 190cm husband of five years trying to quietly sprint down the hallway of the house you both made a home, trying to hold in your laughter as gojo drags you along behind him because you don’t want to ruin santa for your kid.

until you’re both scrambling into your bedroom and he’s pulling you against his chest to hide his laugh in the crook of your neck, and your heart blooms when you feel his lips stretch against your skin before he follows it with a purposely, obnoxiously loud kiss.

“merry christmas, sweet thing.” gojo murmurs still a little breathlessly, pulling back with a dopey smile before he nods towards the 12:05am displayed on the digital clock in your room, and you squeeze your arms tighter around him because you feel so loved. “merry christmas, ‘toru.”

and he blinks at you again, the palm of his hand warm when it rests against your cheek and you notice his smile is stretching even wider than before.

“is it too early to unwrap my gift?” gojo teases, raising his brow as he deliberately lets his hands graze underneath your shirt and despite the way he watches you roll your eyes and slap him away, he knows that life truly won’t get any better than this.

moments like this make gojo satoru want to live forever and he’s aware that he’s just leaning against the door of your shared bedroom with his eyes on you just past 12am, before he murmurs a quick i love you.

but with you, he feels like he’s finally made it.

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

Back Home (1)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

add-on: Okay, so I though abt it a bit more and maybe Rebecca is a Ranch owner???? Babes idk. But I’d love to just read abt her taking care of some horses 😭 have fun with this, hon

-D

WARNING: hallmark cringe if ykyk, talk of past relationships, subtle angst, grief, a Christmas bakery (yes that’s a warning 😀)

When a homesick y/n comes home, she’s greeted with some old friends and old lovers. One particular person stands out to her, someone she was once very close to. What will become of this old flame?

✩｡:•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•:｡✩

The cold breeze starts to bite at y/n’s cheeks. It really was surprisingly colder here than in New York. The cab was quite spacious, a nervousness took over as the realization of coming home after such a long time. What would everyone look like now? Clearly, older, but she feared things might’ve changed too much since she moved in with her aunt in America. The cab stopped in front of a Cabin home that was quite large. Warm lighting peaked through the windows, y/n released a breath of relief. Home.

The sun was high in the sky the rays peaking through the pine trees. The sound of bird chirp

Y/n pushed the car door open and heard footsteps coming from the side of the house. She turned her head to see, Eleanor, her sister.

“N/n…?” Eleanor’s voice seemed to crackle, her eyes glossy, “El…”

Opening her arms for her little sister, Eleanor ran into her arms and sniffled, it had been years since they’d seen each other in person like this. “I thought you were joking…” Eleanor laughed sightly, pulling back to see her sister’s face. “Well, I wasn’t joking if I’m here then, huh?” Y/n smiled kissing her sister on the forehead, “consider me an early Christmas gift” y/n teased, a squeal broke the sister’s apart, “Honey! You’re home!”

It was their mother, she looked older but not by much. Her crows more prominent and her hair having streaks of silver. She really was rocking the salt and pepper look. Sadly, the girls father had died this year in November. It was a tragic loss but life went on and thought it hurt. “Hey, Mom” y/n smiled, letting go of her little sister for a moment to hug her mother.

————————————

The sun was still bright and y/n was unpacking in her room. Eleanor laid on the bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling, “Ooh! Y’know what we should do?” She exclaimed, turning her head to see y/n, “What?” She asked, still folding up some clothes and putting them in drawers.

“We should go stroll around! Keeley, Roy, and all of them are still in town!” Eleanor smiled, propping herself up. “Wait, they never moved away?” Y/n asked, halting her movements, “They’ve been here! And y’know who else is still here?” Eleanor added with a sing-song tone. “hm?”

“Miss Rebecca Welton!” El exclaimed, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Oh no…no, no, no! Me and her ended things so long ago.” Y/n said, still not wanting to give the full details after all these years. “Ugh, fine. Well, we’re still going to town!” After y/n unpacked the rest of her belongings and let her sister lead her to town which wasn’t a long drive away. The square was bustling with people, people that y/n recognized, people that she knew. As soon as the two exited the car they were met with Keeley, “Y/N IS THAT YOU?” Y/n turned around, smiling as she hugged the small woman. “Keels! Oh my gosh, I missed you so much” y/n got to catch up with a few other people. Plus, some newer people that just moved into town. She had a feeling this was going to be a good Christmas.

———————————

WE LOVE??? IDK BUT I KINDA LOVE.

PART TWO IS OUTTTT

[princessbrunette]

reading having to help jj and john b wrap presents for the pogues around christmas 😭 you know those boys can’t wrap presents for the life of them, but you’re sitting on john b’s living room floor with wrapping paper all around you and they’re sitting on the couch whispering to each other like:

“how does she do that?”

“idk man. it’s gotta be some typa witchcraft”

no it’s so cute bc they’d both be sat in silence at one point just staring at you because they’re trying to learn how to do it 🥺 n u look over, snapping out of your own little world like “hm?” and they look down at their own wrapping skills and realise how awful it is in comparison 😭

jj holding up something that literally looks like a piece of scrunched up paper and you just take it and start unwrapping it to redo it like “i’m not putting this under the tree, jj.”

“fair enough.”

[ltwilliammowett]

The final door is no. 24 and that means today is Christmas Eve and so let's see who greets us today and it's the old lady herself. HMS Victory is here to wish you a Merry Christmas.

HMS Victory in Snow

More about her here:

Our famous lady was designed by Sir Thomas Slade, Senior Surveyor of the Royal Navy. She was launched in 1765 and used around 6000 trees of which 90% were oak, the remainder being elm, pine and fir. She was not commissioned until 1778 and this long period of weathering resulted in her timbers being well seasoned which was a major reason for her long life. She was a First Rate Ship of the Line with an outfit of 100 guns on 3 decks.

She was in active service for 34 years. She served as the flagship to a number of distinguished Admirals and fought at the first Battle of Ushant in 1778 (Keppel), the Second Battle of Ushant in 1781 (Kempenfelt) and the Battle of Cape St Vincent in 1797 (Jervis). In 1797, she was pronounced unfit for further active service and was due to be converted to a hospital ship. However, when HMS Impregnable was lost in October 1797 leaving the Admiralty short of a First Rate, the decision was taken to refit Victory which took place at Chatham between 1800-1803.

As part of an extensive reconstruction, extra gun ports were added, increasing her guns from 100 to 104, the magazine was lined with copper, the masts were replaced and the paint scheme changed from red to the black and yellow seen today. She sailed for Portsmouth in April 1803 and Nelson hoisted his Flag onboard in May 1803 as Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean Fleet. Admiral Lord Nelson was Victory’s most famous Admiral.

On 21 October 1805, she led the British Fleet under his command into battle against a Franco-Spanish force off Cape Trafalgar. Nelson was shot at the height of the battle and died at 16.30 when victory was assured. SHe suffered a lot of punishment, 57 men were killed and 102 wounded, and the ship was so badly damaged that she had to be towed to Gibraltar for emergency repairs before returning home with Nelson’s body onboard.

After further service in the Baltic and off the coast of Spain, she was placed in reserve in 1812 and was moored off Gosport as a depot ship. Flagship of the Port Admiral, Portsmouth from 1824, she became flagship of the Commander-in-Chief in 1899. She then slowly deteriorated at her moorings until a campaign to save her was started in 1921 by the Society of Nautical Research (SNR).

In 1922 she was moved into No 2 dock Portsmouth, the oldest drydock in the world, for restoration. The work was completed in 1924 and preservation continued under the supervision of the Society for Nautical Research. The ship subsequently underwent another extensive restoration programme to make her appearance as close as possible to that at Trafalgar, for the bicentenary of the battle in October 2005. She is still in commission as the flagship of the Second Sea Lord/Commander-in-Chief Naval Home Command.

[angel-kyo]

Untitled

Warnings: This started as something sweet, but turned into pain at the end. No proof-reading.

Also, in my mind, Shibuya and such? Did not happen.

-----

Twelve...

Meeting you hurt him, quite literally. You were running at full speed, probably with no destination in mind and pushed him with enough strength to make you both end up on the ground. Your mother apologized profusely to his caretaker. Both of you were only five.

And you decided to befriend him. That must have been the beginning of it.

Eleven...

"I don't want to be your friend anymore!", you were running away again because he had spilled orange juice over your new dress, the one you father had brought from abroad for your seventh birthday. "Apologize!", you cried.

"You're a crybaby, [name]."

Unlike other afternoons, you left his home early that day. He never told you, but he cried after you left.

He apologized the next day.

Ten...

You were moving to the other side of the country and he was going to turn ten years old in a couple days, so you gave him a ring, both as a birthday and a goodbye gift.

"Don't lose it, okay?"

It was too big for any of his fingers, so he enclosed it in his hand and saw you get in the car.

Nine...

His letters had made you think he hadn't changed much, but his voiced sounded a bit different now and you wondered if it was just because some people sounded different on the phone.

"Satoru, you should come for Christmas. It will be fun. My aunt is okay with it too."

You had invited him every year since you had left, three in a row now, but he had never been able to go, not even once.

"Next year, I promise."

Eight...

"[Name]?"

He splashed water on your face when you turned to him and you pushed him away.

"You are the worst. It's cold!"

It was New Year's Eve and he had fulfilled his promise. You had gone to the shore with your new friends and him, who had come all the way from Tokyo to visit for the holidays.

The sun was setting down when you suddenly spoke. "Satoru?"

"What?"

"I will go back to Tokyo next year. I... I want to go to Jujutsu Tech."

He did not say anything. Maybe he had assumed you would prefer living a normal life. It looked like he was wrong.

"Then we will go together", he smiled widely and you returned his smile. That settled it.

Seven...

"You were my friend first, you should agree with me!", he was almost pouting.

"I just think Geto is right. What is the point of being strong if you cannot protect the weak?", you looked at him and added smirking , "Stop pouting. You are a crybaby, Satoru."

He rolled his eyes. His friends were too righteous.

Six...

He heard your steps but could not bring himself to lift his head and just said "Please don't ask me why too."

"I was not going to", You sat next to him. "I know why", you placed a hand on his shoulder, "and I would have let him go too."

Satoru's eyes were closed. If he had opened them, maybe you would have seen they were full of tears.

Five...

You sat down in front of him and sighed. "He's finally asleep."

He looked at you. "How did you do it?"

"It was just a stomachache. He should be fine after taking some medicine."

It was his turn to sigh this time. "Thanks for coming over. When Tsumiki called, I didn't know what to do..."

"I checked the fridge and there wasn't much in there anyway. If you are going to take care of them, you should make sure they have some actual food around."

"Let's go grocery shopping tomorrow, hm?" He smiled.

You were not twenty yet and knew very little about kids, but still you returned his smile and agreed.

"I knew you would find a way to drag me into this."

Four...

"Here you are", Satoru looked down at where you were siting. You were cross legged, resting your back against a tree.

"He liked this cherry tree, it made him hopeful," you said, "'When the seasons change and all is nice to have something that stays', that's what he said."

"Do you want some company?"

You gave him an almost invisible nod and he sat down.

"Do you think Nanami is thinking of him too?"

Truth was he had not heard of Nanami in a while, but he nodded. It was impossible he wasn't thinking of him on the anniversary of his friend's death.

Three...

"[Name], I...", he was at a loss for words, but his expression must have told you something else.

You shook your head. "Don't. Just forget it, okay? I don't know why I said that. I don't expect you to feel the same," you forced a laugh and turned around, "I'm sorry..."

He suddenly felt too conscious of the ring on his pinky finger, the same you had given him for his tenth birthday.

He should have said something.

Two...

You rushed to him as soon as the news reached you. He was leaning against the wall right outside of the infirmary.

"Satoru...", you were panting. He knew you had run there.

His eyes were the saddest you had seen them.

When he told you he did not want to dispose of the body of his best friend, you only embraced him.

One...

It was Shoko the one who called him.

"Her wounds... I can't do more for her, Gojo. I thought you would want to see her in case she..."

He did not let her finish that sentence. "I'll be right there."

He made it just on time. Just on time to take it all back, to tell you he felt the same way, that he had not said anything because he needed you to wait for him to reset the world, but there was no point in waiting anymore, and if you wanted to curse him with love, he would be happy to let you do so.

Happy new year!

He was back on the shore where you had spent the New Year over a decade ago.

He had slipped his ring on your finger before you whispered your last words and he accepted them as a vow, but Shoko had returned it to him, and he now carried it around his neck.

Loving you had hurt him, but he would accept the end of it.

"We will meet in the new world."

[natashaslesbian]

Just Like Mama

From the ‘Tiny Dancer’ series

Summary:

Word Count: 829

Parings: (Mama!Natasha x Kid!Reader) (Avengers x Kid!Reader)

Warnings: none just Xmas fluff!!!

————

“Mama mama!” The bang of the door against the dresser snapped Natasha back to reality, as if the screaming toddler wasn’t enough. “Mama mama it’s Christmas!” You yelled as you used all your strength to pull yourself up onto mommy’s bed. She had enough time in her first thing consciousness to have a sneaky plan, so she pretended to be asleep. “Mama come on!” You exclaimed as you came to meet her ‘sleeping’ form when suddenly she bottled awake and used her reflexes to attack your tummy with with tickled “ahhhh gotcha!” Natasha croaked out “ah ha mama!” You shouted through your giggles. When her hands grew tired, Natasha swallowed you up into her embrace “merry Christmas tiny dancer” she said “merry Christmas mommy” you looked up into her glowing green eyes “can we open presents now!” You joyfully said and Natasha faked a large yawn “oh I don’t know y/n mommy is so tired I might need an hour to wake up” she said “an hour!” You moaned, dramatically throwing yourself over her lap “I’m only kidding baby!” Mama said as she scooped you back up and pushed the covers from her body “let’s go open some presents!”

“Wow!” You exclaimed “mommy look!” You helped the box up high so Natasha could see “what is it darling?” She asked “a pocket knife!” You dropped the box and ran to Tony “oh uh I think that one was meant for mommy baby” Nat said as she scooped up the weapon and shot daggers at iron man himself. “No mama, the tag said it was for me! Thank you uncle Tony” you cuddled into his lap “uh- hm, sorry y/n that one was for mommy” Tony lied, fearing the rage in Natasha’s frame “I actually have a way better gift for you” he said “oh, you do” you said with slight disappointment “yes. I’m gonna- take you to the mall, next- next week” he quickly came up with “yay” you said. Natasha turned her back for two seconds and uncle Tony whispered into your ear “I’ll teach you how to use my pocket knife alright kiddo” you solidified the deal with a fist bump.

Next you opened auntie Yelena’s present, tied perfectly with a pink bow and sparkly wrapping paper. Your auntie had spent weeks looking for the perfect gift for you, but when she saw this she knew it was the one. “A new tutu!” You cheered. You had begged mama for a rainbow tutu but she told you that you weren’t allowed to actually wear it to dance, you compromised asking if you could just wear it in the house, but Natasha wasn’t having any of it. That’s what aunties are for. “Do you like it tiny dancer?” The blonde asked, her Russian accent sounding thicker than usual “yes yes yes!” You screamed “I love it so much! Thank you auntie Lena!”

“All right, next one is from me” Clint said. You stumbled over to him and settled next to his frame on the couch. “Woah cool” you squealed “my own bow and arrow!” Nat immediately took notice “it better be a play one!” She said “of course! I’m not trying to endanger her life unlike others” Clint said as nudged Tony “thank you so much uncle Clint. Can I open it now?” You asked “not just yet y/n” Mama answered “you’ve still got one last present baby” you looked around the room and next to the tree, but there was nothing more to be seen “where mommy?” Natasha came over and like magic pulled a final gift from behind her back.

Settled on her lap, you began to tear the wrapping of Natasha’s last present, the sight of your mommy’s signature hourglass took you surprise, you looked up to Natasha with hope “keep going y/n” she encouraged. When you finally tore the wrapping away you were amazed, you had been asking for this all year. Natasha was worried when you fell silent, fearing you had changed your mind. “What do you think tiny dancer?” Wanda said from across the room. You brought your gaze back up to Natasha’s “really mama?” You whispered “yeah baby girl, it’s what you wanted right?” She said “I get my very own black widow suit?” You asked “I get to be just like mommy?” You said “you get to be just like mommy baby” Natasha said.

“Introducing!” Sam called through his cupped hands “the mini black widow!” The team erupted into applause as you came running into the room with auntie Wanda and dropped into your mamas signature pose. “Look at you baby spider!” Nat said as you ran into her awaiting arms “you look amazing mini widow!” She gave you a big squeeze “thank you mama! This is the best Christmas present ever!” You squealed as you returned her embrace, wrapping your frame around her shoulders “you’re welcome y/n” Mommy said

“I love you mama”

“I love you too tiny dancer”

————

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! This request was the cutest thing ever and I decided to add it to the tiny dancer series! I hope everyone is having a good holiday🩷

[wordsarelife]

DAY 16: IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS

pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader

summary: lockwood is as cooky as usual, luckily you are used to it by now

warnings: a bit suggestive

notes: another one that isn't christmas themed, but something i have kept in the drafts for a longggg time

the woods were dark, while lockwood and you were making your way through. occasionally, you had to cut some undergrowth, but you were managing.

it could've been a pretty night, if it weren't for you two searching for a ghost, that had been hunting those woods for years.

"nope, wrong direction" you said when lockwood tried to take the left path. you pointed to your right "we have to go this way"

lockwood let out a sigh, before he ultimately gave in, following your advice. "do you have to be such a know-it-all all the time?" he asked annoyed.

"no" you shrugged "but you would have to be right for that to happen"

he send you a look and you grinned. "i'm friends with the wrong people to not be a know-it-all" you exclaimed "except george of course"

"of course" lockwood smiled sarcastically.

"i wonder how you ended up here with us sometimes" lockwood said after a few minutes of you two silently walking next to each other.

"of all people, you are in no position to criticise my life choices" you muttered, but he didn't even seem to mind. you looked up at him, your hand on a tree, before you just closed your eyes. "it's near" you whispered.

instead of getting serious, lockwood tried continuing your conversation.

"it was me, wasn't it?" he asked

"huh?" you turned back to him "what?"

"that made you stay" he said "when you first came to find the agency"

"of course" you rolled your eyes, so he couldn't see.

"i knew it" he muttered behind you, but you paid no mind to him.

you came to a halt suddenly, when you noticed the thing on the ground and lockwood shamelessly walked into you.

"woah" he looked around you. the bones were laying on the forest floor, and those were probably your source. "great work, darling" he complimented and while you were still frozen in surprise at your sudden finding, he bend down and wrapped them in a silver net.

"should we like, kiss in celebration?" he asked when he had got back to his feet from his kneeling position. you sighed, before you turned around and walked away, he quickly caught up to you.

"stop doing this again"

"what am i doing, darling?" he tried to reach your hand.

"i thought you would eventually stop, but back when weren't together you always used to flirt in the most weird situations, and now you're doing that again"

"yeah, but it got you to sleep with me, didn't it?" "hm" you admitted "because i thought i could change you. seems like you are a lost cause" you giggled to yourself and fastened your pace, knowing that would rile him up.

"oh come on now, sweetheart" he argued "that's just not fair"

"i don't make the rules" you called back laughing and his features quickly formed back into a smile. he caught up to you and you took his hand, walking out of the woods together.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @novelizt @mitskiswift99 @starzortega @frogserotonin

[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?”

[nightghoul381]

Dead or Love ~ Ellis Twilight

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

Ellis: “Beautiful lady over there. Are you meeting someone…?”

The person who came up beside me without making a sound was Ellis.

Kate: “Ellis…”

Ellis: “Thank you for wearing that dress. It looks great on you.”

Ellis: “You’re so cute, and beautiful, and easy to talk to… I was a little nervous.”

Kate: “I never expected you to prepare such a wonderful present for me…Thank you very much.”

Ellis: “Yes, but Christmas is still here…right?”

(Ah…)

Ellis’ hand grabs mine in a fluid gesture.

Kate: “Ellis, that…”

Ellis: “Tonight, I’m your Santa Claus.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the explanation was.

(It’s Christmas tonight…okay?)

Kate: “Yes, please escort me, Santa.”

Ellis: “Shall we go to the Christmas market first?”

Ellis: “It seems like there will be lots of things that can make you happy.”

As predicted by Santa Ellis, there were many exciting things lined up at the Christmas market.

(Ah, the sweets, and a mini tree!)

Kate: “There’s a nutcracker, Ellis.”

Ellis: “The nutcracker… what was that story about?”

Kate: “The nutcracker is actually a prince and ultimately protects the princess.”

Ellis: “Oh, I see. If that was the story…”

Ellis: “Then you were just cheating on me.”

Kate: “Eh, uh, cheating!?”

Ellis: “Even though I’m right next to you, you’re looking at a prince.”

Kate: “Um, uh, that’s…”

Ellis: “Just kidding… I just wanted to see your cute face.”

Kate: “…already. Please don’t make fun of me.”

Ellis: “…fufu, sorry.”

Still, I see Ellis smiling quietly next to me, looking happy, and it makes me happy too.

That’s why I wanted to step into Ellis’ life just a little bit.

Kate: “What kind of Christmases have you had so far, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Me?”

Ellis: “I see… I guess I’ve been working a lot lately.”

(It seems like Jude is working regardless of Christmas.)

Kate: “Oh, so what about when you were a child?”

Ellis: “My house was a normal house, so I had a Christmas like any other.”

Ellis: “A little bit of a special meal, a little bit of cake after dinner.”

Kate: “Fufu, sounds like fun.”

Ellis: “Oh, and at my parents’ urging, I even wrote a letter to Santa Claus about what I wanted and left it by my bedside.”

Kate: “What did you write as a child, Ellis?”

Ellis: “It was…”

Ellis: “…”

Ellis: “I forgot.”

Kate: “I see. I’m sure your parents were happy that you asked for it…”

Ellis: “Hey, Kate. Aren’t you hungry? I’m starving.”

Kate: “Me too. In that case, we can go to the deli or one of the street stalls I always go to—”

Ellis: “Leave it to Santa Claus today. Let’s go, Kate.”

Kate: “Whoa, Ellis…?”

Ellis starts walking while holding my hand.

(…I’ll indulge Ellis tonight. And he looks like he’s having a great time.)

(What’s that…?)

Suddenly my gaze dropped to Ellis’ feet.

Ellis: “Kate?”

Kate: “Ah, no, it’s nothing. Let’s go, Ellis.”

(Th-this is…)

Ellis escorted me to the first-class lounge of the luxury cruise ship, Orelus.

The pure white table was decorated with flowers, food was lined up, and Ellis and I were sitting across from each other.

Ellis: “It’s only anchored at the port for Christmas.”

(I was given a quick tour.)

Kate: “You made a reservation, right?”

Ellis: “Yeah, I kinda stand out.”

Ellis: “Oh, they’re serving freshly baked bread! Yay!”

Ellis: “It looks like there’s also one with your favorite chocolate, Kate.”

Dining in such a nice place, I enjoy my meal.

Although he said he felt like he stood out, Ellis seems naturally at home here.

Kate: “It’s strange to ask this now, but…”

Ellis: “…hm?”

Kate: “You’re very popular, aren’t you Ellis?”

Ellis: “…What do you think? I don’t know if I’m popular or not.”

Ellis: “I want to be popular with you.”

(Uh…)

Kate: “You’re teasing me like that again…”

Ellis: “You’re evading me like that again.”

Kate: “…don’t imitate me.”

Ellis: “Fufu, I was scolded.”

Then a spot light shone on the stage and the crew members smiled.

Attendant: “We will give away gorgeous and fabulous prizes to everyone who dances during the dance time that is about to take place!”

Perhaps from drunkenness, the voices around us sound like they’re having a good time.

Kate: “It looks like it’s gong to be fun. Shall we join in as well?”

Ellis: “Ah, yeah… Right.”

It was only for a moment, but I could feel the confusion in Ellis’ reply.

(Something isn’t right…and)

Ellis’ gait seemed a little different today.

(Maybe it’s just my imagination, but if something happened.)

Kate: “Ellis, uh…are you okay?”

Ellis: “Kate?”

I take him out to a secluded place and look into Ellis’ eyes.

Ellis: “What’s wrong, Kate?”

Kate: “Um, sorry if I’m wrong.”

Kate: “Ellis, is your leg injured?”

Ellis: “…Ah, that’s…”

(I knew it!)

Kate: “Please show me, how bad is the wound—”

Ellis: “…Kate, don’t get too close!”

When I rolled up the hem of Ellis’ bottoms, I found something I hadn’t expected.

Kate: “What….What is this…”

Ellis: “A time bomb.”

Kate: “T-time…bomb?”

Ellis: “Yesterday, I had another job to do with Jude.”

(Then, you’ve spent all this time with it on.)

Even though it’s a time bomb, there is no way of knowing when it will go off.

This fact sends chills down the spine.

Kate: “W-why did you stay quiet for so long—”

I was taken aback by almost saying that.

(“I want to give you a very special, very happy Christmas.”)

(It’s, because you promised me?)

I swallowed hard and pulled Ellis’s pant leg back down.

Ellis: “I’m sorry for keeping quiet, Kate.”

Kate: “…It’s okay. I’m really glad it didn’t explode...”

Kate: “So, how do we disarm it?”

Ellis: “Jude will figure it out in time.”

(Jude is strict, but he always keeps his promises… I’m sure he’ll be okay.)

Kate: “Okay. Once we get off this ship, let’s try not to walk around as much as possible.”

Ellis: “Okay. In that case—”

After getting of the ship, we headed to the church where he had planned to meet up with Jude.

When we step into the church, instead of a tranquil atmosphere, we find--.

Ellis: “Ah…”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

[wordsofhoneydew]

happy friday!!

put on your fucking seatbelts y’all because these fics will have you screaming, crying, throwing up, hyperventilating and climbing the fucking walls

read the tags. some of these have kinks that not everyone is into, so just make sure you know what you’re stepping into! the other half of these are just fluff fluff fluff!! enjoy!

home is where i’m with you by @luainthewild

where alex seeks the meaning of home and finds it in Henry's arms.

OR: Henry has to spend Christmas alone; Alex refuses and invites him to Texas. Ensue family crack, a lof of fluff, sexy dancing and love confession on a christmas card.

(We) Loved Her First by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

When I thought about all of the things I wanted to say to you both today, my initial urge was to write a letter. I could borrow Dad’s fountain pen from his top desk drawer and watch the ink soak slowly into the cardstock paper, to blow it dry and carefully crease it in three places before sliding it into an envelope and sealing it with the wax seal Papa bought a few years back, that he said we could use to send our Christmas cards to Sandringham in a more formal way so that Uncle Pip wouldn’t expect to find us wearing matching Christmas tree onesies inside.

But then I realized, a letter isn’t your style. It isn’t our style. Your story, the same story weaved together countless times throughout my life into a tapestry of your love that blanketed me at night whenever I needed comforting, was told through a series of pixels swirling through the air and crossing the void of space and time within moments. So, I decided it was only fitting to continue that tradition and to follow in your footsteps…an email, it is.

OR

Alex and Henry's daughter sends them an email just before they walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.

we might just get away with it by smc_27

Henry is the most gorgeous man Alex has ever seen. And Alex has seen a lot of gorgeous men. He’s a fucking model.

“This is Henry Fox-Mountchristen,” Prada’s current PR lead says, and Alex smiles and pushes his hand out. “He’s a journalist covering the merger.”

Alex doesn’t know what merger or what it would have to do with Paris Fashion Week. But he does know that Henry holding a glass of champagne as he shakes Alex’s hand is maybe the sexiest thing ever, and there is just no explanation for that.

“Hi. I’m Alex.”

Henry says, “I know,” and then does this weird, forced smile at Bianca and walks away.

Alex doesn’t know how to like, not be completely obsessed with things he wants.

OR, Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.

Leave A Message by @sherryvalli

"This is Alex Claremont-Diaz's phone. If it's a business matter, I don't know how you got ahold of this number, but if you have my number that means you probably have Zahra's. Call her instead. If you're friends or family, just text me. If you're anyone else, I'll call you back as soon as I can."

Or: Alex's voicemail message over the years, and the messages people leave for him.

in the dead of night by @littlemisskittentoes

“Hm, am I still dreaming, or is there very pretty boy playing with me under the covers?” Alex’s voice is gruff. Its edges are coated in lingering sleep, and the drowsy-slow pull of the words lulls them to a deeper accent than he usually lets slip through. The syrupy drawl skitters the length of Henry’s spine.

or, Henry knows he can always rely on Alex to tire him out when sleep is far off.

[cozzzynook]

Can you do Soundrod Christmas please. Where Soundwave doesn't really care about Christmas but celebrates anyway because it makes Hot Rod happy. He also gets kisses because of mistletoe.

-Ravage watches from her high perch wearing a christmas sweater. She outright refused to wear the bells as a collar and chewed them up leaving them on Hot Rods chassis for him to see when he onlined from recharge.

-Lazerbeak flew around the room hanging the garland intwined with warm lights on the doorways and finally around the large cyber brown with glowing brown sap like energon tree.

-Soundwave didn’t care an ounce for the holiday. The only reason he even tolerated it was because it brought out the smile in Hot Rods dermas. Made Lazerbeak flutter their wings just a tad more in happiness and excitement. Even taking note of how Ravage participated in her own ways by watching the festivities while wearing something she otherwise never would unless deemed necessary for the cause.

-Truthfully he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the joy Hot Rod felt towards festivals or celebrations of any kind. Hot Rod picked up on his dislike for them and found a way they both could be happy.

-Hot Rod and his symbionts would decorate and partake in the festivities while Soundwave was anle to do very little while also sitting back and watching them.

-This arrangement made them all happy and without fail just like every holiday, Soundwave cooked nutrient and sweet filled energon fuel while also bringing out a bottle of nicely aged energon.

-Hot Rod looked up to see Soundwave in the doorway where a little present hung and he smiled. Tree finally finished looking beautiful in every bots opinion, the speedster glided over to Soundwave who held a sweet treat to his derma and fed his conjunx.

“delicious as always, wanna taste what i’m tasting?”

“Hot rod how would I taste what your tasti-”

Hot Rod kisses Soundwave under the cyber like mistletoe that glows. Both getting lost in the other as their kiss deepens and their frames press tightly to one another.

Its only when Lazerbeak squawks and Ravage makes a disgusted noise do they stop.

“Get a room before you molest each other,” Lazerbeak says annoyed.

“How about waiting until you’re in your berth to start making a holiday sparkling hm?”

They both sputtered and felt a small glitch zapped their processor circuits at Ravages words and Hot Rod glared at the panthera bot before didtracting Soundwave and pulling the bot to the tree.

“Come on, you gotta sit with us by the tree and watch the countdown.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Hot Rod said dramatically, something Soundwave reluctantly admits to his cassettes that he enjoys. “We should enjoy it together. Just the four of us. Make it a lasting memory,” Hot Rod says before shifting to a cuddle as they sit on the plush couch.

Hot Rod kept himself from saying more and glared at Soundwaves cassettes as if to hush them. Soundwave didn’t know what Hot Rod was hiding but he knew it would be spilled soon. His conjunx had a knack for being terrible at keeping secrets from him.

The count down commenced and Soundwave watched with little care as he rubbed Hot Rod’s arm plating and lower tank. It’d been causing Hot Rod some trouble for the last few early solar cycles and Soundwave was thankful his conjunx’s tanks were currently settled.

“I know you don’t like these things very much but I really do appreciate you doing this for us, for me. I can’t thank you enough Soundwave and I really hope you like your christmas gift.”

Something about Hot Rods sincerity and his phrasing as if this was the moment before a life changing event had him slightly on edge but excited.

He couldn’t ever think bad of Hot Rod like this, not his agile and beautifully chaotic speedster.

“I love you…” he sent the words on a private frequency that only they typically used.

“I love you too, my reason.”

They pressed their dermas together at the final nanoclick and by the time they stopped it was well past the first hours of Christmas and the two were connected in berth.

Laying on one another letting their spark energies merge instead of their entire sparks, at Hot Rods odd request of course.

“What are you hiding?”

“You’ll see Christmas morning,” his conjunx laughed sounding of beauty and life even as he struggled to stay online.

“It is Christmas morning,” Soundwave said becoming impatient.

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Hot Rod tried only for Soundwave to look at him a little harder to which Hot Rod huffed, rolled his optics and rolled over with surprising agitation and slight anger.

“Would it kill you to trust me for once?”

The sudden out of character emotional flare had Soundwave freezing, his Hot Rod never reacted like this. Hot Rod may be an emotive bot but he wasn’t drop of iron rust emotive.

Just what was happening?

“Okay, my spark. I apologize,” he said pulling his conjunx tight opening his spark casing slightly to send out more of his life energy. Hot Rod’s chassis immediately accepted and returned the vigor at a far slower pace with less than usual but his field returned to being happy, loved.

“I promise you’ll love it,” his speedster replied whispering what Soundwave knew was meant to be a secret. “I hope so,” his conjunx whispered pretty good. If he wasn’t designed to hear every single sound it would’ve gone unnoticed, but Soundwave was not a lesser bot and his Hot Rod placing a servo over his raised slightly protruding tank, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of what it is.

It wasn’t until his conjunx was snoring, another oddity that suddenly made sense, did he lean a little to kiss his speedsters helm and wrap a servo into red and yellow.

“This is the best gift you could ever give me along with your spark and your love,” Soundwave whispered into his audial knowing it would replay once his conjunx onlined.

“Thank you, Hot Rod,” Soundwave kissed again, “I love my present,” he uttered with bright optics, “and you, my sweet spark.”

-

please speak on the people of palestine, sudan, congo & haiti & Tigray as the holiday is celebrated.

-

[romanoffsbish]

Dreams do Come True

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @mostlymarvelsstuff

Prompts

"I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it."

It was a typical Monday morning, your favorite song was blaring from your phone sat on the bedside table signaling to you it was time to get up for work. After shutting the alarm off you begrudgingly went to sit up, but the arm slung over your stomach prevented you. The raspy, disgruntled no against your neck to caused you to smile in amusement., “Scar, I have to get up, I can’t be late to work again; Tim will kill me.”

Your wife, stubborn woman that she was, didn’t pay any mind to your honest words. Instead, her arm tightened around your waist, then her other helped her to shift atop of you. The relieved sigh that fanned across your neck was almost enough to convince you to stay., “Baby, no. I have no time to spare, I still need to shower.,” your wife decided to up the ante, her cuddles weren’t working this time, so she laid a few soft kisses to your skin before lifting her face from the crook of your neck to pout. She’d perfected this expression over the last few years; anytime she wanted to guilt trip you into bending to her very will she’d showcase it.

—————————————

“It’s supposed to storm really badly today.,” Her face fell into a scowl when your eyes still showed defiance., “It storms here every Fall my dear, tis the season for such blessings.,” she groaned when you rolled over her hidden message, and then you noticed her eyes were filling with tears. It took you a moment of silent observation to understand if they were real, because turning on the waterworks was your wife’s—Golden globe nominees, specialty., “It’s not safe Y/N, and that job isn’t worth it.,” the waver in her voice, mixed with the genuine fears you saw within her eyes left you to reconsider if she had a point.

Peering over her shoulder you acknowledged the truth behind her words, the trees branches were thrashing with each harsh gust of wind. The neighbor’s Christmas decorations were blown all over your lawn, but still, it wasn’t torrential., “Baby, this is nothing new to me.”

“Y/N, please.,” she tearily pleaded., “I can’t fathom the idea of my life without you.,” her words hit you like a ton of bricks, weighing your heart down, and you’d been left to wonder where these morbid thoughts even came from., “Shh, Scar, I’m right here baby; I’ll call out.,” you relented easily this time, pulling her head down you guided it back into the crook of your neck, knowing it was a place of comfort for her, and you rubbed her back tenderly as she cried.

When her composure returned to her, she decided to urge you even further., “Quit.,” she pulled back to face you, her face red from her overwhelming prior emotions, and you pulled her in for a sweet kiss before replying to her., “Scarlett, I can’t just quit.,” the blonde huffed against your lips., “But you can, and you very well should. Tim is an ungrateful asshole, and you are so much bigger than that company.,” your eyes softened as your wife ranted on about you, and though she didn’t know it just yet, it was actually working this time after the week from hell you had with Tim last week.

For years now she’d been trying to convince you to quit, and to focus on your dreams. There’s not a single bone in her body resistant to supporting you wholly; you’re her other half. Putting a smile on your face is her favorite pastime, providing for you is her love language. The only real obstacle came in the form of your fears of being a freeloading partner, unable to provide like you’d been raised to need to do., “Scarlett —.,” you were about to agree, but she placed her finger over your lips., “No, I mean it Y/N/N, you deserve the world, and I’m begging on my knees for you to let me give it to you.”

“On your knees, hm?,” you quirked a brow at the woman, who was in fact not on her knees., “Now, as I was about to say.,” she interrupted you once more with a groan., “Pipe down oh she of so little faith. I’ll do it.,” the way she squealed then began to pepper your face in kisses left you feeling on top of the world., “God, I just love you so much baby.,” she softly pecked your lips., “You won’t regret this love!,” her lips then pressed to yours for a deeper kiss to which you hummed in total contentment.

Scarlett’s love always felt like a warm blanket, fresh out of the dryer of course, it was an all encompassing love, it left no room for doubt., “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!,” she began to screech her gratefulness between each kiss, you chuckled heartily at her enthusiasm., “Let me actually quit first honey.,” you reached for your phone and her eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. They look even brighter than when you said “I do,” to each other just last year, and you found that a bit offensive.

Scarlett finally allowed you to sit up, however she wanted to be touching you so she settled behind you, pulling you close while settling her chin atop your shoulder to watch you typing, but to her delight you narrated the message., “Dear Tim, I won’t be in today on account of the fact that I finally quit. You’re a filthy, rotten man, and I can’t wait to see you fail without me. I’d wish you good luck, but my New Year’s resolution is to stop wasting pleasantries on the undeserving. P.S. 🖕🏼.,” Scarlett smirked at the way you read out the message, but a wave of concern flashed through her., “Baby, how will you use him as a reference for work?”

“Let’s be real Scar, the day Tim gave me a good reference to leave him, would be the day that pigs fly.,” she giggled., “Plus; I won’t need to, I will be far too busy being a pretty housewife.,” you teased, she also heard the air of truth, but for further proof she turned your face to look at hers, your eyes spoke to her of your previously noted dreams, and your readiness for them., “Are you sure?,” you nodded., “I love you too Scarlett, so much so that I’m ready to sacrifice my body to start our family.,” the loving glint in your eye overwhelmed her heart, causing her lip to quiver, and eyes to shine with tears once again, you were sorta relieved to find they were brighter than the moments prior.

Though your phone started ringing, neither of you paid any mind to it, far too consumed in one another’s lips to humor your former boss’s unpredictable call., “Still want to shower?,” you nodded enthusiastically, and your wife laughed while dragging you off towards the bathroom for the most pleasant wake up call of your life.

—

Scarlett was reluctantly doing as instructed, it was the least she could do after you just made all of her dreams finally come true. So, her eyes were closed, and she allowed you to guide her into the mystery pajamas you apparently got., “Lift you leg, mhm, not the other please.,” her hand was on your head for balance, and her brows were furrowed when the fabric you lifted up her body gave way for a breeze. Realization dawned upon her when you put her arms into the exact same piece, and then zipped her in.

“Tada.,” she opened her eyes in fear, but seeing you in similar attire kept her from rebuking the silly onesie., “So, you’re the Grinch, and if your heart manages to grow like it should, then you get to unwrap me.,” an amused smirk overtook her face when observing your present onesie., “The Grinch could also just break the rules, it’s what he’s known for, we kind of have that in common actually.,” you were quick to slap her hand away from your zipper, then you ran off towards the kitchen with her hot on your trail.

Scarlett was about to scold you, but you met her open mouth with the nozzle of a whipped cream can., “Making us some cocoa, how else will we warm you up to accepting joy, hm?,” the blonde rolled her eyes, but the idea of cocoa sounded good so she decided to not disturb the process. While you assembled the mugs she was scooting about the kitchen to make food to balance out the sugary drinks. For you she made some scrambled eggs with all the fixings, for herself she made oatmeal, and for the both of you she brought out a bowl of yummy fruits.

“What’s the plan today then?,” you popped a grape into your mouth, savoring the tart flavor while ruminating over her question., “Movies, of the Christmas variety.,” the blonde snorted, “Well obviously, no other cinema is allowed to exist during this festive month.”

Choosing to ignore her interruption you went on., “Lots of cuddles since I’m so torn up over leaving corporate America for the finer things life has to offer—the ache is truly real.,” you feigned pain by dramatically throwing your hand over your forehead and collapsing onto the couch., “I think I can manage that.,” she set her partially eaten bowl onto the table, then much to your dismay she catapulted atop you., “Go on, there must be more for this rainy day.”

“Lastly, if you play your cards right, we’ll be ending the night in our bed, practicing the art of making a baby.,” she hums thoughtfully., “What will tomorrow bring then?,” her eyes are inquisitive, and yours thoughtful., “I’d like to say the beginning to the rest of our beautifully crafted lives.,” her lips quirked upward at the prospective future., “I like the sound of that.,” her head moved to gently rest over your heart, so you’d pressed play, starting your Christmas movie marathon off with a classic—Krampus.

———————————

1,684 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🎄