It’s still Christmas in my timezone, so I’m not late!
Aaaand I accidentally made this another group picture of all the MCQ skellies, WHOOPS. It was originally going to be just the three bros, but then I felt Deccy and Fresh cuddles were necessary, and the others wormed their way in. They were also meant to be chibis, but they ended up just being smol? So, this ended up taking longer than I planned, hence the almost/kind of lateness.
I designed the sweaters for Geno, Error and Ink. I have mixed feelings about the results, but I don’t wanna mess around with them anymore.
I have more ideas for Christmas pictures, so I might draw and post them late!
I hope everyone has/had a very merry Christmas, or whichever holiday you celebrate, or just a great day in general!
Christmastime is (almost) here, guys. How exciting!
It certainly has been quite a year. And I mean that it a good way! I just want to thank you all for your support, because I don’t think I can thank you enough. Making Omega Mode has been a wonderful experience, and it means the world knowing that something I made can brighten someone’s day.
You waltz into the Bunker library confidently, going over what you had planned to say one more time. Your brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, sit at ease at the great wooden table, going through the many different Men of Letters documents, picking apart at what was absolutely necessary. Each has a bottle of beer in their hands.
Sam looks up from his fat book. “What’s up Y/N?”
“Drink?” Dean offers.
“I’m good,” you reply.
“Still underage, Dean,” Sam reminds his older brother.
“I’m not a beer fan anyways.”
Dean shrugs and turns back to turning pages. You take a deep breath and begin your mini speech. “Look, guys.” Both brothers’ heads turn to face you. “I know it’s not a big deal anymore like when we were kids, but here.” You pull out two wrapped packages with a grin. “I couldn’t resist. Merry Christmas.”
Your brothers stare dumbfounded as they accept your offering. Sam predictably speaks up first. “Wow, Y/N. This is…you know you didn’t-”
“Have to do this? Yeah,” you shrug with a big smile. “But I wanted to. You guys are my family and it’s Christmas, so I figured, what the heck.” You raise your eyebrow. “Well? They’re not going to magically open if you just stare at them!”
Dean’s face finally splits into a smile as he tears through the wrapping paper you scavenged for earlier in the week. He places his shreddings on the Bunker table. “Awesome! Where’d you find this?” He chuckles as he holds his shiny new gun up to the light for a better view.
“My mum left me her hunting stash when she died. I thought you might like that beauty.”
Dean gawks when an interesting marking comes into view. “Is this a-”
“Vintage 1943 Ithaca 1911? Yes, yes it is.”
“No way! Thanks Y/N!”
“Psh. Don’t mention it.”
“Then, can I mention this?” Sam holds up his unwrapped present: a thick book bound by leather with color tabs along the outside. “What is this anyway?” He asks, starting to flip through the pages carefully.
Somehow, the smile on your face stretches even bigger than before. You look at the your gift with pride, remembering all the secret hours you had spent on that particular project. “I made it,” you state proudly. “Inside that book is everything we know about every monster or whatever we’ve fought. I went through some Men of Letters stuff also. Consider it the Cliff Notes of the Bunker. Figured it might save some research time here and there. ”
Rather than verbally compliment you, Sam walks over to you, much to your surprise. He stretches his hulking bear arms out and pulls you in close for one of his moose-sized hugs.
“Woah, what did I do for this?” You teasingly query through the muffling of his flannel shirt.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Sam rumpled the top of your head, messing up your hair.
“Hey, no Christmas noogies this year. We agreed!” You push away and swat at his arms. Dean laughs. Sam gives you one of those special smiles reserved for family.
“Uh…” Dean begins awkwardly, “We don’t have really anything for you…” He starts looking around for something as a literally last minute gift, but you wave him off.
“Guys, you being my family is a Christmas gift. You took me in when you didn’t have to and you’ve given the home of a lifetime. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count and that’s not because I can’t count very high.” You look into your brothers’ eyes proudly. “That’s a good enough present for me.”
“All right, you tear-jerker. Get over here.” Dean too, pulls you into a famous Winchester hug.
You snuggle up to his leather jacket. “Merry Christmas bro.”
He strokes your messed up hair down. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he says with a soft smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
You stare up at Dean, an impish grin appearing. “Hey. No chick flick moments.”