hovering fog


“Hover through the fog
and filthy air.”
Shakespeare, Macbeth Act 1 Sc 1

not fair
an airplane blowing up
in midair
so many dead

or being born
just in time for

sunk without
trace in the mud of
the Somme

frozen in
some city
ending in -grad

no it would have
been great to have
picked and chosen
to have
skipped that
but not this

to have remembered to pray
prayers of total avoidance
much harder than usual
(as if
God did not
know what was going
to happen
in Auschwitz

having been
on the cross, having
died himself)

Detecting your own energy

I’ve gotten some questions recently concerning identifying and using your own internal energy so I thought I’d write up my methods. So why is it good to be able to know what your own energy feels like? -as a witch I can use my own energy to fuel my spells but using too much of your own energy can be very dangerous and can impact your health. Knowing what your energy feels like in comparison to other energy sources will help you avoid overusing it -Being able to identify your energy compared to other energy can help you quickly detect if someone or something is affecting it. -If you have a spirit companion or familiar you can share energy with them -As an Umbra witch I gather energy from the darkness and shadows to bolster my own internal energy. As such my internal energy feels like a cool, black fog that hovers around me. So how do I identify my own energy? -I would recommend doing this someplace private and away from other people. This way you avoid interruptions and also you limit other energies around you. -I would turn off all electronics and lights (you can keep enough light on to see if needed) -Sit someplace comfortable and close your eyes and regulate your breathing -Open yourself up, well to you. Try to feel your body and detect how it feels. When I first did this I felt a slight tingling above my skin almost like someone was running their fingers lightly above my skin -You may see a physical manifestation of your energy (like I said above mine reminds me of a thick, black fog) but if you don’t that’s ok. The importance of this exercise is to be able to distinguish your energy from other sources. It might happen the first time or it may take a few tries and that’s ok. Once you have a feel for your energy it will be easier to feel the energy from different sources. As always I’d appreciate any feedback about this technique

Originally posted by everydaylouie

The Summer Soldier (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader) - Part II

Originally posted by bobmorleyisking

Soldier keep on marchin’ on

Head down til the work is done

Waitin’ on that morning sun

Soldier keep on marchin’ on

Set from Age of Ultron in between with Civil War, The Avengers have new recruits in the team, many from the aid of Captain America. One of them happen to be you, The Summer Soldier, an unheard project of HYDRA. What the team doesn’t know won’t hurt them… But will open their eyes

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Bleeding, Weaponry

Word Count: 4,952

Part I

Taglist: @redroomproperty @midnightreme @tvdplusriverdale @ravenclaw-geek24 @ladywitheclecticheart @priettierthanyou

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For those of you who were interested, the companion fic to Red’s angst fest is below the cut, in Liz’s perspective. *pulls blanket over head*

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The Mask

Wrote this after seeing the tumblr prompt “Remember Me” where one character helps another remember something and wanted to to a little reincarnation one.

Loki finds an old mask inside The Teutoburg Forest.

They say finding a mask inside The Teutoburg Forest is quite rare. So When Loki and his parents joined the rest of the group and ventured into the forest, following their balding tour guide, Loki didn’t really expect to find one. Except he did.

It was sunny when they went it. The skies were clear and Loki rolled the sleeves of his leather jacket up until they reached his elbows. He zipped the jacket all the way up when they got ready to leave the hotel because his dad took one look outside and said that everything looks so grey out there it has to be chilly but it wasn’t. It was warm inside the bus and Loki took the jacket off for a while and kept it on his knees, but when they all spotted those dark treetops inching closer to the large windows he put it back on and he heard his dad’s voice over the music swaying in his ears going ‘good call’. It was still warm when they stepped out of the bus and by the time they were walking around the Hermann Monument soaking in all those details about the war chief Arminius defeating three Roman legions under Varus in 9 CE, his hair felt like it was beginning to stick to the back of his neck and his cheeks got all red.

They had their lunch there in the shade of some trees with that 175.3 ft tall monument standing motionless in the sun and Loki watched the shadows catching in all the right places, clinging to the crook of Arminius’ elbow, to the folds of skin right above his knees, and covering his eyes and Loki couldn’t see them at all. Arminius was wielding a sword, pointing it at the sun and half of it was light and the other half was shadow.

His mom and dad kept taking pictures of it while sharing a cigarette and it wasn’t long before Loki started toying with his phone, shuffling through all that music with the glare of the sun making his eyes all itchy and watery, forcing him to squint, touching the light colored birthmark resting there over his heart because sometimes it got all tender. He loved everything history related, but this monument with all its shadows and hot copper plates made him feel uneasy. So when their tour guide made sure no one left a single plastic bag or fork or some kind of wrapper lying around and said it’s time to go Loki jumped to his feet so fast his parents gave him a look and he only shrugged, took his earphones out and stuffed them in his pocket along with his phone.

The Hermann Monument is located on a tiny hill and their little group of maybe twenty or so had to make its way down and retrace its steps in order to get back to their tiny bus where the seats were so crowded there was no way you could just sit there without having your shoulders pressing against the shoulders of those sitting to your left and right.

Loki hadn’t really noticed when it started to get cold; it felt like it was really warm until suddenly it wasn’t and he found himself tugging on the sleeves of his jacket , bringing them down to his wrists and zipping the jacket up.

This light breeze came out of nowhere and when it moved over his cheeks it felt like glass dust. Loki paused for a moment and looked up. The sun was almost gone and the trees along the path were whispering in soft female voices that made the hairs on Loki’s arms stand on end.


It was his mom and his dad was standing next to her with one hand in his pocket motioning for him to catch up because he was day dreaming again and it wasn’t exactly this new thing.

This time Loki was grateful for the warmth inside the tour bus and spent the following hour and a half sitting there with his earphones on but he wasn’t listening to music or to an audiobook, he just had them on so his mom and dad won’t bother him because that view of those tall trees just turning into a soft blur of green and grey and brown with the speed and time passing it by just had him captivated and he couldn’t and didn’t want to look away.

It was supposed to be just this little peek into the area inside The Teutoburg Forest where Arminius’ men slaughtered three Roman legions sent by the Emperor Augustus and led by Varus to cross the Rhine and conquer the lands. With Melville the tour guide leading the way, they left the bus behind and ventured deeper into the forest, following what Melville believed was the path the Romans took when they marched forward to their deaths.

Loki’s parents were more than a few steps ahead of Loki, talking, using that tone of voice people use when they converse about horrible things that happened a long time ago, sad, but also a little excited.

All forests are filled with silence but this one felt so quiet it made Loki’s ears hurt and the trees were so pale they looked like endless columns of smoke and the yellowing grass reminded him of tiny sparks of fire jumping all over the place with the touch of some wind.

An ambush, the tour guide said and Loki looked far ahead into the shadows and as he was walking slowly the wind was there to keep him company, smelling like old flowers and grey skies.

At some point he got so cold he had to stop and try to get the zipper to go all the way up. He watched it glinting bronze in the faint light, blinking between his fingers and tugged on it because for some reason it got stuck. He tugged on it and pulled, yanking it up and down and then up again, trying to get it to run smoothly and when it finally did and he felt the collar embracing his neck so it felt all nice and warm, he looked up and found himself alone.

No mom and dad. No tour guide. No people he didn’t take the time to actually try and see what their faces looked like. Everyone was gone and for some reason he wasn’t afraid.

He started walking, stepping on long fragile shadows, the cool breeze moving his lashes, sticking to his lips, making his hair all sleek and soft and at some point it started to rain, soft and lazy. The forest breathed around him and each exhale moved him forward and moving through the rustling grass and the pale light made him lose all track of time. He walked until his feet hurt, until each and every one of his breaths felt like an entire galaxy expanding inside his lungs , until his mom and dad were just a reflection on a still body of water and that’s when he saw it.

It was a brass mask. Half of it was buried in the ground, the other half peeking out, the silent light moving over it drawing silvery circles around one eye hole. It was right there next to the roots of some tree and Loki got on his knees and used his fingers to dig around it. The dirt hurt getting under his fingernails but Loki kept filling his fist with more until he could pull it out.

He ran his palm over it once and exposed a wide stripe of bronze. He did it again and the dirt sticking to and blocking the eye hole, fell away and through the hole he could see some very light fog hovering over the grass, tiny flowers looking like little blooms of smoke turning their heads towards the shadows.

Loki used the tiny droplets of rain dotting the sleek bright surface to wipe the mask clean. It looked like the face of a sleeping man. He stuck his little finger inside the cut that was the mouth and ran his finger over the edges.

The Romans used these masks in battle to protect the face. Battle masks, they were called.

Loki stood up and with the tip of the brass nose pressing hard into the palm of his hand, put it on. It felt wet and the cold made his cheeks sting. He parted his lips to breathe and the air he drew in tasted like chalk. The edges of the eye holes were pressing against his lashes, pushing them back and with his pupils exposed like that he watched the forest and there was nothing there that could make him believe it wasn’t the same forest from such a long time ago, using that light rain to wash away those deep burgundy stains sticking to the roots and the leaves and the grass.

When Loki removed it, that’s when he first saw him. He appeared in the second it took Loki to pull the mask to the side, a boy about his age, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, dark blonde hair sticking to his temples, damp from the rain.

He smiled at Loki and Loki studied his face with the sound of the falling rain filling his ears with whispers.

Was this boy a part of their group?

Loki couldn’t remember.

“A face mask,” the boy said and ran his fingers over the mask from temple to chin.

Loki watched him, the way his lashes fluttered in the light drizzle, the softness of his lips, the kindness in his eyes and his heart was full of longing for an unnamed memory.

“The Romans used them to protect the face,” the boy said and Loki blinked slow.

“I know. The tour guide told us about it. Were you with us? I don’t remember seeing your face before.”

The boy smiled and moved the mask in front of his own face so it obscured it from Loki’s eyes, one strong thumb pressing down on a pair of bronze lips, holding the mask up.

“Did your tour guide tell you this story?” he asked Loki and brought the mask down little by little, exposing a soft brow, a blue eye, a straight nose and a pair of beautiful lips dotted with raindrops.

Loki raised his brows and the boy leaned in a bit closer and his voice like a summer storm, quiet and comforting, “many of Varus’ men died here. It was raining then, just as it’s raining now. They were ambushed. Slaughtered one by one. Breath gone and all memory gone with it. So many unnamed. Tales of bravery forgotten. One tale remains. The tale of two of Varus’ soldiers. They were young. They were in love. They were only boys when they were drafted and as much as they wanted to fill Augustus’ heart with pride, they also wanted to return home alive, to hold hands in the sun, to see the stars in each other’s eyes. They marched side by side in the rain. The sound of it was everywhere. They were cold and tired, but they had a long way to go before they could set up camp. One of them thought of the way his lover looked with the golden outline of their beloved city reflecting in his eyes, with all that glorious sunlight bathing his shoulders, with the taste of infinity and freedom on his lips and the other looked at him in the dark and saw all that longing in his eyes and reached over to touch his hand. Only one of them saw the spear flying out of the shadows, starlight moving over it like a bolt of lightning, and covered the other with his body. That spear pierced two hearts that night. They never made it home.”

The boy grasped the collar of his t-shirt and tugged on it.

And there it was, a birthmark identical to his own, just over his heart and Loki pressed his palm to his own chest and the boy gave him a sad smile and took his hand.

Modern Mythology: Witches

“Fair is foul, and foul is fair: hover through the fog and filthy air.”

Modern witches with the world on their tongue, and how it tastes of sugar. Their lips are red from chap stick and candy hearts, the cigarettes that hang from their fingers hold a ring of pink and red from them, and how undone one can become just by the color, how you’ll begin to wish that the sunset was the same color as their rosy skin. Under neon-lit back streets, secrets and spells are scratched into the backs of gum wrappers and along the lines of palms of hands with chewed purple sharpies or lipstick, whatever they can find, because the dark of their eyes can only whisper so much with the shadows. They do not care for the rest of the world, only those who share their blood, only those who know what lies in their bones, there is no time for those who don’t understand. They will curse the world with candy and nicotine, for these girls aren’t willing to fight for or against a world who would rather forget the reason for the black of their eyes. They tape together what is already ash with eyeliner and nail polish, for they rather not see their death-tinted skin.

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

Sleeping Beauty, they called her. An evil fairy cursed her to sleep until true love’s kiss broke the spell, they said.
Lies, all of it.

The kingdom-that-sleeps must be forgotten. The Sleeping Beauty must remain asleep. If the seal is broken, she will be loosed once more. You thought the ruin on her kingdom was the decay of 100 years of sleep? No.
Fair is foul and foul is fair/Hover through the fog and filthy air

Frat Boy (Part 9)

Originally posted by subcas

Summary: Dean and reader return home and transition into the next part of their relationship…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tags: @dancingalone21 @daydreamingintheimpala @pulgapelayo18@perpetualabsurdity  @jessiedangerous @charliebradbury1104 @squirels-angels-and-moose

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,602

Warnings: language, drugging, implied smut

A/N: Only like a little tiny amount of implied smut but you’ll get your fill next time, don’t you worry…

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The Signs as Things I Love About Nature

Aries: When you shout in a forest and it shouts right back at you because of the echo bouncing off trees.

Taurus: When you see deer outside your car window.

Gemini: When you can see fog hovering over a warm surface.

Cancer: When it is cloudy at night and you can barely see the moon or the stars peaking out in between them.

Leo: When the sun is peaking through the clouds and it doesn’t hurt your eyes to look at.

Virgo: The serenity of watching a river end into a waterfall.

Libra: When you can tell it is going to rain just because of the smell of the air.

Scorpio: When storm clouds darken the sky, but the sunlight makes the sky a faint blue-grey.

Sagittarius: When you watch a lighting show and listen to the crack of thunder.

Capricorn: When you look at the night sky and see constellations.

Aquarius: When the wind howls at you.

Pisces: When the tree leaves change color and it looks like someone had painted them.

*sorry that some of these are short

Rafael Barba / ‘Soulmates’

Brought up by the ask HERE, by the precious @yourtropegirl :).

FYI: I got a brief explanation of the ‘soulmate’ thing (thank you, @leanwithitwriting for always saving me from my ignorance) but do not know a lot of specifics- so I kinda did my own take on this. I liked the idea of the name being somewhere you couldn’t see by yourself, or without the assistance of a mirror etc. Idk if everyone’s supposed to know it’s a thing but we’re gonna say everyone does because idk, it works out. If I’ve butchered this story line, let me know, and we can give it another go!! lol.

Originally posted by all-things-raul-esparza


He had guessed how to pronounce it, many times. Would it be soft like the Iliad, or would the vowels cut sharper, like the Virgin Isles? It had been a hot topic of internal debate, one he only allowed himself to ponder on in the dead of night or when life had granted him a moment of peaceful silence. It was rare these days, he’d know.

Iliana. Would he find her in a crowd, recognize her immediately? Perhaps it would hit like a freight train, or come in soft and sweet like a fog hovering over a meadow. Would her eyes match his, or would they remind him of the ocean? Would she smell of coconuts or roses, maybe salt air or the fresh beginning of spring? Her voice- would he know if she spoke, or would it simply sound like angels opening the pearly gates for his Nirvana?

How does one anticipate a soulmate?

Rafael had never really been sure, but he’s always tried.

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The concept of aesthetics is so fascinating to me. It’s magnificently creative and utterly subjective. When one sees a photograph, what makes one person ignore it and another save it? We all see something different in a photograph. Perhaps one person saves a photo because the fog hovering over the mountains reminds them of home. Perhaps another saves it because the yellow of the happy lady’s hat makes them remember a favorite summer flower. Somewhere inside of us we are seeing pieces of ourselves in photographs, and choosing to see them as beautiful. And I think that is just magnificent. 

Walker bait.

Hi I’m new here Nd love it 👍 can u do me a imagine please? A story about a woman and her two sons who are with a group who end up using them as walker bait but daryl comes in and saves the day and falls in love ❤ please

I hope you like it! 💕

You woke up to the cries of your younger son, you opened your eyes abruptly and got on your feet immediately.

The morning air was cold and there was fog hovering over the forest your group had lured you into. Where were they, by the way?

You desperately followed the sobs of your son as you looked around to try and find your other child. Then you could hear him too, a wave of relief hit you when you heard his cries too, but it faded away quickly.

You finally reached them, both of them were trying to kill a walker. You felt a rush of adrenaline inside of you, running wildly and pushing you to keep your kids safe.

Grabbing the knife inside your boot, you rushed towards the walker and stabbed him repeatedly in the head until it stopped moving. You let the corpse drop to the ground and you crouched in front your children. They were shaking and holding each other’s hand, some tears were staining their red cheeks.

-My boys… —you whispered and pulled them to you. They hugged you and cried against your chest. —What were you doing here? I told you to always stay by my side!

-We’re sorry, mommy. —they said in one voice. You hugged them more tightly and kissed their cheeks, you didn’t want to scold them.

-They left, mommy. —your eldest son told you.

-I know, baby. —you said.

-They left when you were sleeping. —the youngest one murmured. You frowned, wondering if they had seen then leaving.

-Did you-

-They said they were coming this way. —he interrupted.

-What? How did you-

-They said we would keep them busy as they escaped. —his voice wasn’t shocked as you were as you heard him speak. —What does that mean, mommy?

You felt a sting in your stomach, anger and pain bubbling up inside you. How could someone be so cruel? Leaving two children as bait just to get a few minutes ahead of a herd.

Growling in the air made you take your mind off of that, you stood up quickly and walked through the trees, you reached the road and saw few walkers, but the sound seemed too loud to be only from about five walkers.

You turned back to your kids and told them to be quiet. You slowly climbed a tree to get a better view, and as you got higher, you could see more and more walkers. You gasped when you almost got to the top and realized there were around fifty of them walking down the road.

You climbed down quickly and ran to your children desperately, they were confused to see you so scared.

-What’s wrong, mommy?

-Nothing, my love. —you faked a smile. —We shouldn’t stay here, let’s go get our things.

You returned to your camp, or the place where your group had told you to stay in as they cowardly ran away.
As you started gathering your stuff, you realized that the people that had abandoned you had also stolen your things. Your flashlight, a couple of water bottles, your power bars and your gun.

You closed your eyes and took a moment to think about your options. The only one was to run away, but the walkers were so close and so many to outrun. There was no other way, though, they had taken your gun and you only had a knife. A knife and two children who had no idea that that could be your last day on earth.

The odds weren’t on your favour, but you had to try, for your sons.

-Let’s go, kids. —you said and held their hands in either one of yours.

You walked through the woods carefully, trying to step slowly so the sound wouldn’t call the walkers. You turned your head back every five seconds, making sure that there weren’t any undead corpses near you.

Your youngest son screamed, you turned to look at him quickly and grabbed his hand more tightly.

-What is it? —you asked him. He pointed his finger at something between the trees in front of you. It was a walker, you narrowed your eyes and realized there was more than one. You couldn’t take them down by yourself and you didn’t want to leave your kids alone while you fought the undead, so you pulled your sons towards the road, away from the walkers in the wounds.

As soon as you walked out of the forest, you saw more than a few walkers. There were hundreds of them growling and walking towards you.

Both of your kids screamed as the saw the same picture as you, you tried to hush them but it was no use, they had already seen you.

You turned around, planning on heading the other way but the other herd had already reached you.

You became numb, you couldn’t hear your kids’ screaming anymore nor feel how they tugged on your hands desperately.

Someone turned you around strongly by your shoulder. It was a man, his hair was covering most his face but you could tell that his eyes were on your kids. He was holding a crossbow with one hand only, you knew he was strong.

-This way. —he said gruffly and gestured foe you to follow him. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have trusted him, but those were by no means normal circumstances and your sons were in danger. You followed him into the woods, he led the way and shot an arrow through rotten heads each time a walker crossed your path.

A branch that laid on the ground got tangled in one of your son’s foot and he fell to the ground. You were about to bent over to pick him up, but the man turned around quickly and carried him; he kept running with your son in his arms until you arrived to a church.

He rushed towards it and knocked on the door violently. A woman opened the door, her hair was tied in pigtails with a grey cap on her head; she saw you first, she seemed confused but her face softened once she saw the child holding your hand.
She raised her head and saw the man, he was still carrying your son, the girl stepped aside and let you enter the church.

You sat on a pew and laid your kid on your lap. The man that had saved you sat your other son next to you.

-Thank you. —you whispered. His hair was still falling in locks over his face, the church was a little dark, so now you couldn’t see his eyes. He nodded and walked away.

As the sun went down and the moon took its place, you stayed on the pew with your kids. They were scared and most likely traumatized by what had happened earlier.

-Here, you must be hungry. —he said as he handed you three cans of beans with spoons in each one of them.

You took them and gave one to each one of your kids, they pulled them from your hands and took the spoons to their mouths almost savagely.

You chuckled at the sight of them, caressing their hair as they ate.

-Thank you… so much. —you added, immensely grateful at what he had done for you.

-It’s nothing. —he muttered and stayed still, after a few seconds of keeping his eyes on yours, he walked away.

You watched your children eat and you had a few spoonfuls of beans yourself, but your mind couldn’t stop thinking about that man. He had risked his own life for three people he didn’t even know, he had taken you to his shelter and fed you, when the people that you had been trusting for a couple of months had left you and your sons to die.

The people inside the church started laying on the floor or the other pews to sleep and your kids did the same.
You watched them sleep, their chests rising and falling made you feel calm, they were alive, they were next to you.

-They okay? —he sat next to you and pointed his hand at your kids.

-Yes, they’re okay. —you smiled to yourself without taking your eyes off of them.

-Good. —he muttered. You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep yourself from speaking the question that was burning your tongue.

-Why? —you asked at last. He frowned at you. —Why did you help us? You don’t even know us.

-I don’t have to know you to know that your lil kids don’t deserve to die like that. —he said.

-Thank you, you have no idea how grateful I am… —you said and the tears that you had been holding back to pretend you were strong for your kids started falling down your face. —I love them so much, they’re my babies, I don’t know what I’d do without them.

-It’s okay, they’re safe now. —he told you. You let your face fall to your hands and sobbed quietly.

He hesitated about comforting you, he wanted to hold you and hug you, but as you had said, he didn’t even know you and you would most likely freak out for having a stranger holding you closely, at least that’s what he thought. But you did want him to hold you, you wanted him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a warm embrace, but he seemed like a guarded person, he didn’t speak much and he turned his gaze away every time his eyes met yours.

-I’m sorry. —you wiped your tears with the back of your hand as you sniffed. —I just don’t want anything to happen to them.

-I know. —he muttered and nodded. —I’ll keep them safe.

You smiled and placed a hand on his knee, you felt him jump slightly when he felt your hand on him, so you pulled it away and left it on your own knee. But he hadn’t felt uncomfortable, he had actually felt surprised about how nice your touch had made him feel.

His hand moved awkwardly from the pew towards you and he let it fall softly on yours.

A solemn thing—it was—I said—
A woman—white—to be—
And wear—if God should count me fit—
Her blameless mystery—

A hallowed thing—to drop a life
Into the purple well—
Too plummetless—that it return—
I pondered how the bliss would look—
And would it feel as big—
When I could take it in my hand—
As hovering—seen—through fog—

And then—the size of this “small” life—
The Sages—call it small—
Swelled—like Horizons—in my vest—
And I sneered—softly—"small"!

—  Emily Dickinson, A solemn thing—it was—I said

@soulthieving crossed the path of the wanderer.

The low croaking of the frogs was the only noise that echoed through the air. The water of the pond was still. A few lost leaves floated in place, torn from their home in the branches and made to rest in the water, upturned like a miniature boat. Only the silver feather which bobbed in the center of the water didn’t belong. Attached to a clear reel, connected to a makeshift fishing rod, the hook beneath the water’s surface dangled in wait for a willing patron.

Yasuo’s sword and sheath were on the grass at his side. In loose, scarred hands, he held the fishing rod which hadn’t felt the tug of a catch in nearly an hour. He could feel the low-hanging fog that hovered above the pond against his skin. About him, droopy willow trees circled the pond, it was their home to be near a source of water.

His eyelids began to lower. He’d been running for some time. Weariness was finally conquering his resolve, and his eyes closed shut. Only for a moment, though, for a sharp SNAP in the distance behind him caused the fishing rod to drop from his hands and sword handle to take its place.

Mini Dean

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a deanxreader one shot where they are on a witch hunt and dean gets turned into a toddler so he doesn’t really know about monsters. The readers maternal instincts kind of kick in and she takes care of him and sings hey June when he has a nightmare then when he changed back he starts to remember what the reader did like holding him and taking care of him and he confesses he loves her! I’ve had this idea forever lol and you are such an amazing writer!!! - fandomsunite2018

AN: First of all let me just say thank you for sending in a request and for your kind words! You’re so sweet! I love your idea, although I do have a few confessions to make. I’ve never read a reader/sam/dean/cas get turned into a toddler fic before, so I hope this is what you were looking for. Also I think this is my first time listening to Hey Jude and let me just say thank you for introducing me to that little bundle of wonderful. Anyway I hope this is what you were looking for and thanks again! Let me know what you think!

Originally posted by sprntrlgifs

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