laughing loone


Hi everyone! So this is part one of the ABO Verse fic I promised to post. I finally got around to writing it and voila! Let me know what you think pretty please? It’s kinda short but every first chapter is right? xxx 

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: The a/b/o verse where Hydra fucked with Bucky’s hormones and temporarily made him a Beta (because they take orders better) as the Winter Soldier, but now that he’s safe at Stark Tower, Tony hires Y/n to help re-orientate him back to his natural-born rank as Alpha.

Tags: Angst, fluff, smut (duh), and everything else I can’t remember right now lol

Tagged Lovlies: @softforseb@mrtinslydia, @wine-and-space-donuts, @aislinsekhem, @creideamhgradochas (lemme know if you wanna be tagged x)

(oh and I did this lazy crappy last minute minimalist cover, but I would love if you guys submitted your own covers :) Sexy, angsty, whatever you want idc but I’d love to see some!!! You guys are way better at graphics than I am lol)


Opia n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel                                      simultaneously invasive and vulnerable

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This piece is from a little while ago. There are a couple events coming up that you should come to if you’re in Western MA: I’m giving an artist’s talk at Hampshire College in mid-late November and participating in the Oculus opening at Eastworks later this winter. It’s really super duper exciting to me to start feeling like I’m finding some purchase in my art practice: it was really only a year ago that I settled into living in a single place and began to develop a drawing practice. I went from being a mostly transient, closeted creature to being somebody that is finding myself embedded in a group of people that looks like family a mere two miles from where I was born. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it’s leading me into thickets that are denser and more full of fruit than I thought possible.

When the world is sleeping: (Request)

Prompt: Can I request something pillow talk with Loki? Just some cute giggly moments along with some soft smiles 😊–Anonymous 

Note: Fluff

Words: 1300

Requested by: Anonymous

When the realm of Asgard was sleeping Loki Laufeyson would lie awake and ponder things quietly to himself. Beside him slept his beautiful dove (Y/N) who looked peaceful when she was first sleeping. Now the things Loki would ponder could go from how he came here to what could happen in the future. “Loki?” A soft, tired voice inquired as Loki’s gaze fell onto (Y/N)’s worried face. “Is something wrong?” She slowly turned her body to face him. “No my love, nothing is wrong.” He smiles softly as she nuzzles against him. “Are you sure?” She tilted her head.

“I am sure. I have just been wondering things is all.” He murmured quietly. “About what? This is not the first time I have awoken to you ‘wondering things’.” She explained as he chuckled softly. “Alright, I shall explain myself. I was just realizing how far I have made it since I tried so vigorously to take over Midgard and Asgard. If not for you I would have never changed and if not for Thor I would not have been forgiven.” He sighed coursing his fingers through his hair as she grins to him. “Well you did a lot of this on your own. We cannot take all the credit my love.” She whispered.

“I was also thinking of other things,” He whispered, his gaze going back up to the ceiling as she traced random patterns into his skin. “About?” She questioned. “The future. What shall happen.” He let out a gentle puff of air as she moved closer. “What things shall happen my beloved?” She looked  at him when he smiles. “Well those are uncertain, but I was thinking about our wedding day.” He whispered as her eyes widened slightly at that. “You want to get married?” She moved up to resting her hands onto his chest while she laid down her chin over her hands as she looked at him.

“Of course my darling dove. I just imagine how beautiful you’ll look, and I shall think to myself how lucky I am to have someone like you fall in love with someone like me.” He whispered as she smiles softly before burying her face into his neck to hide her heated cheeks. He lets out a laugh at the slightly ticklish feeling, brushing against his skin as he held her closer to him. “I believe I am the lucky one. For I am marrying a King.” She whispered as he runs his fingers down her bare back. “Oh my love, You are more than a Queen. In my eyes you are a goddess.” He admitted.

His hands crept up her neck and cupped her chin to look at her. “I love you.” She smiles softly, biting her lip. “I love you too.” He pulled her down and pressed his lips against her own. She started to laugh against his lips and it caused him to start laughing when she pulled the covers over both of them. Their eyes locked together as she grins before crawl onto his hips and continued to laugh for a moment. “You are so odd, but I would not want you another way.” He whispered as she leans down kissing his nose before she blew a raspberry onto his cheek.

He groaned pushing her away as she laughs, sitting up as he wipes his face making a face. “Gross.” He comments, but his tone was playfully as he lets out a chuckle. “But you love me no less.” She whispered wrapping the covers around her body when he smiles softly, placing his hands onto her hips. “You are right.” He smiles. Suddenly the light of the morning sun began to pour into their bedroom as the light surrounded her in a beautiful glow. Loki couldn’t help himself as he began to stare at the beautiful goddess that sat atop him with her gentle smile on her lips.

“What? What are you staring at my beloved?” She asked, tilting her head as his eyes dialed from such beauty. “Something extraordinary my love.” He whispered back as her face heated up once more. “Loki, there has been a question that has been running through my mind lately.” She muttered before glancing away from his lustful gaze. “And that is my love?” He quirked an eyebrow at her fiddling with the blanket that covered her body. “Well I… How would…” She let out a small sigh, unsure of how to word this properly. “Tell me my love. What is it?” He asked.

“How would you feel about having children?” She finally blurted out, feeling both worry and relief course through her faces as his eyes widened for a moment. “Do you want children?” He sat up, brushing her hair from her face as she nods smiling softly. “Of course I do, but I want to know how you feel. If you do not want them we do not have to have them.” She explained, placing a hand onto his face. “I want to do whatever makes you comfortable.” She smiles. “You always do what is right for me, but my love… I think… I think I would.” He whispered, looking into her eyes.

“R-Really?” She asked softly. “Well if I were to have children with anyone I would want it to be you. You are something that I have only dreamed of and to have you here, have you in front of me. It is everything I could want.” He grins as tears spring her eyes before she chuckles, covering her face. “Why can you make me go from laughing like a loon to sobbing like a baby in mere moments?” She pondered when it was his turn to grin. “I ask myself that question almost every day my darling.” He spoke quietly, pulling her down onto his chest as he laid back down.

“How many would you want?” She inquired looking up at him. “As many as you want, but three maybe four.” He mumbled against her skin as she shivered softly. “It is now morning.” She whispered as they both glanced to the window to see the morning sun. “It appears so.” He whispered as his short, blunt fingernails slowly trail up her back when she snuggles closer against him. “I like spending time with you like this. Just you and I. Not a care in the world to worry about. No one is here to take you away anymore.” Her eyes never leaving the window.

Loki’s heart clenched at her words, because he knew what she said was true. He had done so much that it seemed that he was always being dragged away from her. “I’m here now my love, and I am never going to leave you again.” He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. “What if Thor, or this Avengers need you? What if you must leave?” She tore her gaze from the window to look deep within the swirling irises. “Then I shall always return to you my love, because you are my home.” He explained as she smiled, laying her head onto his chest once more.

They were basking in the warm glow of the sun, basking in each other’s presences for who knows what today holds for them. Yet, here and now in this moment, nothing else matter to them but each other. The world could burn, but at least they’d be together, wrapped in each other’s brace with nothing to fear. No words were spoken between the two, but nothing needed to be said that wasn’t already being said through their gestures of love. Because when the realm of Asgard was sleeping, they see, hear, and feel nothing but this moment here together as one. For their love was a unity, it was eternal.

Loki Tag:  @saraholdtheh972 @itshatertatertotblog @ladydork @this-is-reighlen @deputy-orange-juice @ninetales144 @marvelsheroes @txcountrybelle @aravensdaisies @sarah-fangirls-and-stuff @saradesign4fun @bluev0lk @phiauniverse  @redeyed-winchester @cutethegamer @x-pierce-the-clifford-x @buckbuckbuckyy @iamalonelyfangirl @music–believer

Permanent Tag: @kanupps06 @lehumbletrashcan @hortonhearsahoeblr @madamrubrum @tillielynn16 @ididntasktogetmadedidi @eliza-hamilton-helpless @archy3001 @inselaire @breezy1415 @tremendouslyelegantstrawberry @donttalktomewhenimreading @txcountrybelle @i-am-a-dragon @abbywro-blog @shayna-winchester @thomashiddlestonloveloki @doctorcelina @impossiblepizzapeace @ek823

Dancing with the Stars- Tom Wilson

Originally posted by hockeyeurs

Ok guys so I have never seen Dancing with the Stars. Really. Unless it’s hockey or cooking, I don’t tend to watch TV so I’m just kind of winging it! Hopefully I don’t mess it up too bad, but we’ll see! Enjoy!

Warning: like one curse word

@scottish-kid Request: I know you have a lot of requests but could you please do a Tom Wilson one where his girlfriend is on dancing with the stars and he gets jealous and protective? Sorry to add on.


              You knew Tom wasn’t going to like it the moment your partner played the sensual song.

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The Greatest Gift

Hey everyone! A while back I asked for Johnlock ficlet prompts. This is what I came up with based on the wonderful @carlgrimeschildsoldier prompt that I was given ages ago!


Takes place exactly one year after The Hug. For this ficlet, I’m pretending that Rosie never existed. 

Sorry for the cheesy title as well. Unfortunately, I don’t have an AO3 account, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t understand how to post this there.


Sherlock blinked awake, his eyelashes grazing fabric and skin. He gathered his thoughts as his mind ascended away from his dreams and back into reality; he was in his bed, with all but his head buried under the comforter. Gray light hinted that it was not quite dawn. Sherlock relished in the warmth emanating from John, whom he was half draped over, his face resting on the pillow between John’s neck and shoulder. He didn’t want to get up, but there was something he needed to do. He pressed a gentle kiss on John’s neck, who sighed contentedly but did not wake, and carefully removed himself from the endearing tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

The air in the flat was cold from the drafty windows, and Sherlock shrugged on his dressing gown over his bare torso and flannel bottoms. He treaded lightly to the closet and stretched up on the balls of his bare feet until he could remove the small wooden box from underneath various garments on the top shelf. He paused for a moment, letting his fingers trace over the familiar smooth wood and carved patterns, before walking with it into the bathroom.

Flicking on the lights, Sherlock set the small box on the counter and opened it deftly, as he had thousands of times before. Inside, seated in the dark velvet, were a single syringe and a small, partially filled glass vile. Normally his fingers shook, but today Sherlock’s actions were calm and deliberate as he held the vile of solution up to the light. He watched its contents swirl around, imagining the sensation of it flowing through his veins, fueling his brain… Sherlock uncapped the vile and tilted his hand until the solution drained out in one long ribbon into the toilet. Once the last drop cleared the glass, he flushed. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he watched the last of it leave 221B. He tossed the empty vile in the wastebin with a satisfying plunk.

Next Sherlock grabbed the plastic syringe. Out in the flat, he donned his long coat, scarf, gloves, and shoes, not having the slightest care that he was about to walk through London in his pajama pants. Just as he was about to descend the stairs when a loud yawn sounded from the hallway. John blinked blearily at Sherlock, tying his own dressing gown around his waist.

“Sherlock? Mm, what’re you doing, love?” He asked groggily, stretching and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it? Oh and happy birthday, by the way.”

Sherlock smiled, but before he could reply, John’s eyes focused on the syringe in his hand. His brow knit together and he looked back up at Sherlock, wearing a freshly concerned expression. “Sherlock…?”

Smiling lightly, Sherlock took John’s hand and began pulling John’s coat over his shoulders.

“Ha-hang on, what’re we doing? Where’re we going?” John’s tone was one he was accustomed to using and one that Sherlock was accustomed to hearing.

“Come on,” said Sherlock, helping John with the remainder of his coat and pulling a wool hat over his ears.

“For Christ’s sake, Sherlock, I’m in my pajamas.”

Sherlock said nothing; he only gestured to himself (I’m in mine too, John) and waited by the doorway for John to finish getting ready.

“Right, where are we going?” John asked on the pavement outside 221B. Wordlessly, Sherlock took John’s hand in his and pulled him along.

It was a very long walk. And it was cold. And John hadn’t even had any tea yet! But Sherlock kept a firm grasp on John’s hand and didn’t say anything, so as usual, John went along with it. Finally, Sherlock stopped at a railing along the edge of the Thames. Sherlock waited as John caught his breath and rubbed his hands together to warm them before carrying on with his intent. Holding the syringe in his palm for John to see, John looked at it for a moment before returning his expectant gaze to Sherlock’s. Sherlock loved the way the sunrise played with the blues of John’s eyes.

Closing his fist around the plastic, Sherlock stepped back, stretching his arm out behind him, before hurtling the syringe as far as he could possibly manage into the river. He watched the gray water, which began to dance with morning light, fold over it and travel away. When he finally turned back to John, he was met with an expression brimming with affection and awe. The soft, crooked smile that he wore made Sherlock’s chest swell. He was pulled abruptly into a tight hug, with one of John’s hands gripping his waist, the other holding his head as if he were a small child.

They stood like that, enveloped in each other, for quite a long time. It could have been days. But when they finally pulled apart, the sun still shed dawn rays on the river. John gazed up at Sherlock with a sudden mischievous countenance.

“You know,” he said, the mirth clear in his eyes, “that’s technically a biohazard. And I never took Sherlock Holmes to be a litterer…”

Sherlock rolled his eyes in exasperation. “For Christ’s sake John, it was supposed to be symbolic, or romantic, for you, but – “

John cut him off with a chuckle. “I’m only joking, you git. Hell, you probably know exactly where and when it’s going to wash up, and you’re going to disappear one evening, claiming to go for a stroll or something, when actually you’re going to find the syringe and throw it away properly.”

Sherlock glared. “…It won’t be in the evening, it will be in the morning. And I will tell you that I’m going to pick up parts at the mortuary, not going for a walk. Otherwise you’ll want to come along,” he mumbled defeatedly.

John couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Sherlock was unable to hold his glare for long, and he ended up breaking into a few giggles as well. So the two stood by the Thames, in the freezing cold dawn of a quiet January morning, laughing like loons in their pajamas.

“Happy birthday to you, you git. And thank you,” John finally whispered, moving back in for another hug.

“Happy birthday to me,” agreed Sherlock. He wove his fingers through John’s, and they started back for home, where they would have a quiet day in, eating Mrs. Hudson’s homemade cake, prank calling Mycroft by the fire, and making love as the snow began to fall.

And after, under the sheets, John would whisper: “What you did today, that meant a lot. But you’re not the one who’s supposed to be giving gifts on your birthday, Sherlock.”

To which the detective would reply: “My greatest gift, forever and always, is you.”

O R I O N  +  T O B I A S

For #TSCTuesday, how about some bromance goodness? Here’s a brief excerpt from CHAPTER 18: THE REVERENCE of The Savior’s Champion:

Wembleton turned to Tobias. “You’ll enter with the others and proceed with your demonstration. Think of it as a moment to showcase your power.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Tobias said. “I don’t need an entrance.”

Wembleton’s face fell flat. “Pardon?”

“You can give it to Flynn. He’d be much better at it.”

Wembleton wavered, pursing his lips. “Artist, perhaps I haven’t been clear. This is not of your choosing. You are required to make an entrance.”

“I just don’t think I’m well-suited for it.”

“It’s what the people expect. You’re all fearsome soldiers, and you will dazzle them with your presence.” Wembleton’s stare became scathing. “And you will make an entrance like a proper man ought to.”

Tobias’s eyes shrank into slits. “A proper man—”

“He’ll make an entrance.” Orion gave Tobias’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll assist.”

“Wonderful.” Wembleton grinned. “How about we get to practicing, yes? Dragon, Shepherd, Artist—why don’t you work on your entrances, and we’ll reconvene afterward.”

The men broke into groups, though Tobias didn’t move, steadily seething. Orion took his arm, cocking his head at the nearby corridor. “Come.”


“Off we go,” Orion mumbled.

He led Tobias from the atrium, practically dragging him along the way. Ushering Tobias into their chamber, Orion closed the door and set his staff aside. “All right. Your entrance…”

Fuck the entrance.” Tobias tossed his staff onto his bed. “Fuck the whole damn Reverence!”

“Lower your voice, brother.”

“They treat us as things,” Tobias hissed. “We’re not men, we’re animals trained for entertainment. We kill one another, and they cheer. It’s savagery!”

Orion crossed his arms. “Have you finished?”

Tobias’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t care.”

“Of course I care. Any man with half his sense would care,” Orion said. “Unfortunately, most men of this tournament have nothing but air between their ears, so alas here we are, lamenting our state while the others rejoice in it.”

“This tournament is a mockery.”

“It is. But it’s a mockery we signed up for. So we will go out there as trained animals, and we will do it with a smile. Or in this case, a mighty roar. Whatever Wembleton called it.”

Tobias said nothing, his hands balled into fists.

“There is no honor in this tournament. It is merely a pageant dripping with blood.” Orion grabbed Tobias’s shoulder. “Know you’re not alone in your rage. But there is no logic in fighting for dignity. It was stripped of us from the start. Wembleton, the Proctor, and the Sovereign himself stopped seeing us as men long ago.”

Orion’s words were somber, yet to Tobias they were a relief simply because they were honest.

“Have you released your anger?” Orion said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll work on your entrance.” Orion plucked his staff from its resting place. “I had something in mind—simple, since I know you care little for this whole charade, but still enough to stir the crowd. My brothers and I used to do it at your age. You’re a strong man, you’ll have no issue at all. Does all that sound fair to you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man. Are you ready to learn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why do you keep calling me sir?”

“I don’t know, it felt appropriate.”

Orion laughed, ruffling Tobias’s hair. “Loon.”

Tobias swatted Orion’s arm away before retrieving his staff from his bed. He stared at the makeshift spear—his staff of manhood—then glanced at Orion, who offered him a reassuring nod.

“You’re a smart man. Too smart to get caught up in all that horseshit Wembleton drones on about. Heed his words, play along, then once he slips away, those of us who know better will laugh at his expense, the stupid ass.”

Tobias chuckled, and what remained of his resentment faded away.

Orion held out his hand. “Brothers?”

Smiling, Tobias gave his hand a firm shake. “Brothers.”

As always, a huge thank you to @pocket-size-super-villain for the beautiful portraits! If you’re in need of character art, look no further!

Do you think?

How many times did our paths cross?
How many ways did we almost meet?
How many stories did we almost share?
How many lives did we almost live?

Do you think if we knew for sure
We all would smile at strangers more?
Laugh like loons and sing like pros
And dance with sand between our toes

Hide & Seek

Pairing: Scotty x Platonic!Female Reader

Summary: You have a knack for hiding and one day it causes you to miss an important event and makes for an embarrassing story.

Word Count: 985

Warnings: Swearing, A bit of second hand embarrassment.

A/N: From a request put out into the tumblr universe by @bkwrm523 I hope it makes her smile. Beta’d by my best friend, @aeashwrites.

Originally posted by pinetrek

Ever since you could remember you craved solitude and cozy nooks in which to hide. The pantry in your parents’ kitchen, the reading nook you made in your closet, your favorite tree in the backyard. When you were in Starfleet academy you took to hiding in out of the way spaces in libraries and coffee shops. You were lucky enough to earn a spot on Starfleet’s crown jewel, The USS Enterprise. Being an engineer you had every hidden nook of the ship memorized, which was handy in your quest to avoid people. If you had a knack for hiding, there was one person that had a knack for finding you and it was Scotty.

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thegoddesselizabeth  asked:

Can i choose 1 through 19 for melizabeth?? No? Okay how about 4 pwease ♥️

Okay, so since I wrote my EMD fanfic, I think it’s safe to put this out now. Yeah, I know, it doesn’t follow the prompt exactly…but if we know EMD!Meliodas like we do, we know how hard it is for him to resist flirting with Elizabeth…even if he is still in denial of who she is. Whether this will actually be a future scene (when I decide to expand the piece) remains uncertain.

“I’m flirting with you.”


“…So, that witch of yours is protective.”

Meliodas watches from over his shoulder as Elizabeth blinks out of whatever haze that was clouding her mind, her bright blue eye darting over to him. Like always, he wants to turn away. He can’t stand her gaze, can’t stand how…how similar she looks to the goddess he knew millennia ago; he can’t stand how seeing her makes him feel a bitter sort of hope, that his Elizabeth somehow returned to him from the grave. Meliodas can’t stand it, because it’s not possible.

But this human has been trying to be polite and even cordial, ever since this journey began. He might as well return the favor—in his way, of course.

“Huh? My ‘witch’?” Elizabeth narrows her eye as she asks, “Do you mean Merlin?”

Meliodas snorts, then shrugs as he coolly replies, “Unless you have another mage for a comrade…”

“Oh! W-well, I suppose she is. She was the Royal Mage for my father for many years, and has known me since I was really little. She even helped in teaching me magic!” She smiles sweetly in memory, though her gaze also grows dim. “She is one of my best friends…”

Meliodas stares at her, blinking emotionless black eyes, before turning his head forward. He snorts, then mutters, “Figures she wouldn’t like me then.”

Elizabeth lets out a snort as well, which quickly turns into a giggle as she says, her tone teasing, “She’s probably just worried you’ll eat me, or something.”

This gives Meliodas pause, his eyes opening wide for a moment. Did she really just…? Before he can stop, his lips curl into a dark smirk. And to think, he thought this Elizabeth lookalike was more innocent. Meliodas lets out a low chuckle and turns around to regard Elizabeth with lidded eyes. Perhaps he can have a little fun with her after all.

“Eat you?” He teases, quirking a brow. “Your Highness, we still hardly know each other. Something like that takes time, and patience.”

Rather than blush the way he’d intended, Elizabeth crinkles her brow in confusion. Her blue eye squints as she tilts her head and asks, “What does us knowing each other have to do with that…?”

If Meliodas were a lesser man, he would have choked at the comment. As it stands, he only allows his eyes to widen as he blinks at her, his smirk shifting into one of disbelief. He chuckles again, feeling his blood stir in a way it hasn’t in so long, his mind racing with images that are just too enticing. Innocent, my ass—


“I mean, what? You just…invite people to tea and then,” Elizabeth pauses to morph her amused expression into a mock snarl, her hands curling into mock claws on either side of her face. With a voice exaggeratingly deep, she says, “Prepare yourself, foolish mortal, for I will consume your soul!”

Meliodas feels his jaw go slack, his eyes wider as he tries to speak. What.


“What,” he echoes flatly.

Elizabeth flushes, her shoulders lifting bashfully as she gave him a timid smile. “I-I’m just asking, because—well, I’m not really interested in the intricacies behind soul eating—but I-I am a little curious? And you’re…you’re the first demon I’ve met. I figure if anyone would know the answer, it would be you.”

Meliodas stares at her some more, for a beat longer than necessary, he knows—but he can’t help it. It’s like his witty mind has just shut down, gone blank. What kind of person is she? He shakes his head slowly, a chuckle of disbelief snorting from his mouth, a sound so genuine that it jostles his insides. Meliodas slowly runs a hand over his face, before lifting his other hand, palm facing Elizabeth.

“Just…just so we’re clear,” Meliodas says, once he’s certain of his sobriety, that he won’t humiliate himself by laughing like a loon. “You were talking about the eating of souls—possibly your own?”

Elizabeth shifts her gaze side to side in the stone hallway coiling through the underground chamber, and then gives Meliodas a strange look. “W-what else would I mean?” She asks, flushing from embarrassment, probably thinking she said something wrong.

And despite the laughter trying to bubble its way out, Meliodas also feels the urge to grasp Elizabeth by her shoulders and just shake her. You silly girl, I was clearly flirting with you, he thinks at her, turning his head away in bemusement. How naive could you be…?

“Nothing. Let’s just forget it for now. We’ve still gotta find that undead guy and get the hell out of here,” Meliodas says instead, quickening his steps ahead of her, feeling suddenly foolish but also amused. Then he pauses to add, without looking back as he smirks, “Besides, that is not how I sound.”


Characters - Dean, Reader

Summary - You maybe go a little crazy decorating the bunker. It’s maybe not such a bad thing

Word Count - 1833

A/N - I had seen one of those “imagine your otp” things where one stands under the mistletoe waiting for the other to walk by. When the other does walk by, they don’t notice the mistletoe. Or something along those lines at least. I started with that in mind but my noggin led me a different way.

Warnings - Swearing (this is me, here), no smut (what?!?!), kissing, drinking

Tags - Beta’d by the ever amazing @sis-tafics@deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @salvachester @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @demberly @aprofoundbondwithdean @heckyeahjensenackles @luckygrahams @feelmyroarrrr @silver-and-green @demondeansdomme @savingapplepie-eatingthings @awhiskeywithawinchester@oriona75 @manawhaat  @winchesterenthusiast @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @writingbeautifulmen @but-deans-back-tho @the-mrs-deanwinchester @supernatural-jackles @mamapeterson@rizlow1@misswhizzy​  —  If you want tagged (or don’t!) in my fics, just shoot me an ask!

It’s just a few weeks until Christmas will be upon you. And you couldn’t be happier. It’s always been your favorite holiday. Not because of presents, though you always give the best damn presents, but because it was the only time the whole of your hunting-crazy family got together. Now you have very little of your family left; a couple retired uncles, a few aunts that never hunted, and one cousin still in the life. You’re in contact with her more than the rest, it’s always nice to have another hunter ready to lend a hand.

It’s been years since you’ve had a proper Christmas and you miss the traditions and the love that the season brings. You had begged and pleaded with the boys (alright, mostly Dean) to let you decorate the bunker. Sam had agreed almost instantly, much to his older brothers irritation. Dean had taken a little convincing, and some bribery in the form of the Christmas pies you planned to bake anyways.

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