#i wouldn't be surprised if she died of a broken heart shortly after him

[dirtytransmasc]

I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.

let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.

he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.

let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.

I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.

she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.

she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.

[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]

#[I know she isn't with him in the book but shhhhhh enoughs already changed let me be delusional] #I don't want to see this happen. my girl need a goddamn break. but if its gonna happen just demolish my heart in one foul swoop #all or nothing #cause if I watch a slow decent into madness I'm going with her #let her break quick and fast for my sake #I haven't read the book (as i've said a trillion times before. I'll get to it eventually) so take this with a grain of salt #I don't think book alicent didn't love her children #I do think the love she held for them and the love show alicent held for them is very different simply due to circumstance #and I don't think show alicent is lasting very long after Aegon's death #i wouldn't be surprised if she died of a broken heart shortly after him #part of me fucking prays for it cause I don't know if I'll be able to cope with her grieving for 2 years #my heart just can't #and she doesn't deserve it #just let her reunite with her children and be at peace #don't make her suffer #let her say goodbye to her baby. give her closure. let her go #I beg #alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #pro team green #hotd #house of the dragon #its fine. I'm fine. I totally like my emotions.

[mountswhore]

You’re in little mix and you’re on tour but you’re having a hard time so Ben comes to surprise you and you spot him during a performance and start crying please x

do you know how many dreams i had years ago when i was obsessed with LM? i still am, always been a jade stan 😌

also i will be using LM5 as a tour album because it is my favourite album

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 — ben chilwell

summary: you are struggling with tour, and who better than Ben to help you through it.

notes: requests are closed.

"Well done, girls." Your tour manager, Katie called out to the four of you as you exited the stage. "Next stop, London."

Whilst Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne all cheered, all you could do was push a smile onto your face. You couldn't let them know how big of a toll the tour was taking on you, but it was getting harder to hide. The four of you had been on tour, promoting your new album, LM5, for almost two months now. You had a brief break between your American leg and the current Europe leg of tour, but it was still hitting you so hard.

You'd loaded into the back of the cab, being driven to the hotel you'd been staying in for the past few Manchester shows. You didn't waste any time getting comfortable clothes on, and getting into bed to FaceTime Ben. You knew he had a match yesterday, which you'd watched during soundcheck, leaping around and hugging your bandmates and he'd scored once again.

"Hey, trouble." Ben greeted, and he looked like he was in the car, driving somewhere.

"Oh, are you on your way home?" You asked, tucking yourself into the duvet further, "sorry, I didn't realise."

"It's okay, just some light training." Ben smiled, and the car had stopped. You watched as he'd climbed out, adoring his features until he was in the same position as you, tucked into bed. The pair of you smiled at each other, exhaustion clear on the both of your faces. You knew you should be sleeping right now, but you needed each other. Tour had been almost intolerable, as you'd gone two months without seeing Ben in person. He had no idea of the mental pain you were going through with touring.

"How's tour?" He asked, pulling you out of a small daydream, his heart breaking as he laid on your pillow, on your side of the bed. He so wished for you to be here, wanting nothing more than to just hold you.

You couldn't lie to the man, you'd broken down immediately, turning the phone to face your ceiling as you wept.

"Come on, talk to me, doll. Let me see that pretty face." He hummed, his voice a remedy for your pain. You just wished you could hear it in person.

"It's tough. I feel like I'm falling behind on this tour," you cried, now wiping your tears with your sleeve, "it takes me double the time to learn the routines, no matter how much sleep I get, I still feel tired. I feel like I'm letting the girls down."

Ben had paused the facetime, opening his messages app to text one of your bandmates. He kept talking to you, comforting you, as you spoke, meanwhile he was texting Jade and asking a favor.

'Any chance you can get me good tickets for your London show? Y/N isn't doing too great right now, Ben texted. Awaiting her reply, he had gotten back to your facetime and could see your gorgeous face once again.

"I miss you, and it's making this so much harder." You admitted, looking into your screen to see Ben's features lit up from the phone lighting, "I hope I can be with you before the South American leg."

"Oh you will be," Ben mentioned, "I'm not letting you go anywhere without me. You can pack me in your suitcase."

The pair of you laughed, and fell asleep on FaceTime shortly after. But you were up early once again, a coat hugging you tightly as you bundled into a car, which would be driving you from Manchester to London. To stay in another hotel, for the next few days. Meanwhile, Ben was training once again. You'd managed to talk to Perrie and Leigh, not getting much from Jade as she was glued to her phone, texting someone, and she wouldn't disclose who.

"Y/N," you heard as you opened your hotel door, dragging your suitcases into the room. You turned to see who it was, being met with Jade. "Ben said you weren't doing too good, what's up?"

"Oh," you whispered, processing the fact that Ben told Jade something was up, "it was just a moment of exhaustion, I'm okay now." You smiled your false smile, the one you'd been perfecting for two months almost.

"You'll tell me if there is anything though, right?"

"Of course."

It was now the night of the first London show. You were waiting under the stage to rise, waiting to be met with thousands of screaming fans. Your outfit was uncomfortable, you were holding back tears, but you were going to power through it like you had every night. Only a few hours and you'd be back in bed, on the phone to your boyfriend, and relaxing. Until tomorrow.

Hearing the fans was always bliss, you adored them all. They were the reason you were standing on stage right now, singing your lyrics with your best friends. It was an hour into the show, and just as you were about to begin singing Monster In Me, Jade had approached you from across the stage. You followed as she pointed her finger into the small pit of people at the front of the stage, seeing none other than Ben, with Mason and a few other friends.

It knocked the air from your lungs, you didn't know whether to laugh or cry, you knew you should remain professional and start singing along with the girls, but all you could do was cry. You let the tears fall, holding onto the side of Jade as you were only a few feet from your boyfriend.

"Thank you," you whispered to her, holding your microphone to your face and singing along with Perrie. For the rest of that evening, all you did was look at Ben as you sang, happy to be seeing him up close and not just through a phone.

#ben chilwell request #ben chilwell blurb #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #chilly

[imaginationlandtrilogy]

I went ahead and rewatched the event because I feel as if I didn't fully watch it the first time because I was so excited. So I rewatched it and fully paid attention and I had some thoughts about Randy and Stan's relationship (+ that situation) because it was really interesting to me.

So here's my understanding of the situation. Pretty much following from where the show took off with the Vaccination Special, Sharon wanted a divorce. However, in her divorcing him, that would mean she got half of the farm - Randy didn't believe she should get half of the farm. Stan then got frustrated with their fighting and burned down the farm to end things. However, he didn't know Randy had locked Shelly in the barn because she wouldn't do her 'weed chores', leading Shelly to burn to death. Shortly after, Sharon could not handle the loss of her daughter and shot herself.

What a dark plotline! I know South Park isn't shy to include things like this in their plots, but I often forget, so this was, like, right up front. It was really surprising.

First things first, I think it hurt me more knowing Sharon killed herself (and shot herself, at that - that's a painful way to go). I can't stop imagining how distraught and torn apart she must have been. Sharon has never outwardly been suicidal before, so it's especially heart-wrenching to hear this. I'm sure she was well aware that if she killed herself, she would be leaving Stan with Randy, and well, she was okay with that. She would rather have died, leaving her son with Randy (who has been shown to be quite reckless) and without a mother than live in a world with what happened. Think about it. Randy is driving her crazy, she's stressed, she's unhappy, Randy doesn't want to give her half of the farm, and then in the midst of all this, the farm burns, and her daughter along with it.

In a family, if there is one common person (i.e. an abusive parent) that is disliked, an odd bond is formed between those people. I don't know how to explain it, but... Okay. Randy has his issues to work through, but he's stubborn. He drags his family along in his actions, despite what they may want. At the point of S23 ("Season Finale", to be more specific), it's very safe to say they dislike Randy. At the thought of Randy being imprisoned for a long time, they're ecstatic. They're... okay with it. Although Randy is just a character, he's just a person to us, but to them, that's family. He's a husband, he's a father... Imagine how broken a family must be for the kids and wife to bond over... their hatred of a member of their family. They must've felt trapped and helpless, and... well, they could never really get away from Randy. He lived with them, he was a part of their lives. However, there was a common feeling shared with Sharon, Shelly, and Stan and that was their shared experience of living with Randy. All the drama, hijinks, being pulled around with whatever he wanted to do next. They experienced that together and they are the only ones that know how that feels. That is what I mean by an odd bond of hating a family member. It's a very real thing and it's an experience that you can only fully know if you've been in that situation. It's just such a twisted thing to bond over and I think that really amplifies the troubles of the Marsh family.

Back to Sharon's suicide. The farm burning down could be traced back to Tegridy Farms itself and to Sharon, that's yet again another one of Randy's "stupid dreams". This was the last straw. Ultimately, Randy's dream had ended up killing her daughter and that was too much for her to handle. She couldn't live in a world like that. And even more so, there's one thing I'm not including - the in-between. When I say that, I mean the time between Shelly's death and Sharon's suicide. It's safe to say Sharon didn't see Shelly dead and automatically shoot herself, but rather, I guarantee there was some time in-between. Randy blamed Sharon and Shelly's death on Stan, so it's very likely he blamed Shelly's death on Stan when it happened. This is just a speculation/theory of what happened, but I would imagine Randy would have tried to take the blame off of himself and put it on his son... This would really just put the nail in the coffin and drive Sharon to the edge. It's not the fact that Shelly died that made Sharon kill herself, it's everything around it. It's her daughter dying, it's Tegridy Farms, it's her son burning the farm, it's (likely) Randy putting the blame fully on their child. It's everything. That's what broke Sharon.

After this, we know Randy put the blame on Stan. He didn't want to take the fault. He insisted it was Stan's fault that his sister died and his mother killed herself. I could imagine that this was the separation, this is what made Stan cut himself off from Randy as much as he could. But... who was there for him? His friends weren't, they broke off their friendship. Stan's sister and mother were dead and he had no one to go to. He sulked. He didn't make an effort to move past it. It's the same as it was in "You're Getting Old" and "Ass Burgers", he didn't make an attempt to move past the things dragging him down. Rather, he let them pull him down until he was so low, it was impossible to get back up. He likely spent his whole life with hatred for Randy, not living for himself, but living with that moment his sister and mother died in the back of his mind. He blamed Randy. Randy blamed him. They were both so stubborn, it was an irreparable relationship and they both chose to sit and sulk all of their lives. They're so alike and ultimately, that caused the final blow to their relationship as a family.

More on Stan, though. I thought he was incredibly well-developed as an adult. I like his design, I like his demeanor, it really tells so much about him - he's sad. He's lonely, he's depressed, he's angry. He's not willing to accept help from anyone or kindness, at that. He constantly pushes people off and insists that he's only in South Park for Kenny. The only "person" that he has is an Alexa that mimics a wife. This is my theory on the Alexas, as it is the future and it was never fully stated. I assume the Alexas are in a similar situation to Androids in Detroit: Become Human. Androids were meant for purposes of the humans - they were an aid of some sort. Whether it be chores, companionship, sex, anything... There was an Android for it. Even children! That's what I believe Alexas to be in this futuristic universe. That is why Alexa acts so similar to a wife - she acts as a companion to Stan and in my speculation, that's what Stan wanted her to be. Even further, their relationship is a little toxic. He sits around drinking all day and she nags him. They argue constantly. I could definitely see this mirroring Stan's perspective of Sharon and Randy's relationship when he was younger. He doesn't know anything else and this toxicity follows him - he thrives in it. He and this Alexa don't get along, but he keeps her around because it's a sense of companionship when he's not willing to accept it from a person. He is so much like Randy and whether or not he realizes it, he doesn't do anything about it.

Upon my first watch, it really hurt hearing Randy say, "I don't have a son" with such anger in his eyes and contempt in his voice. It was very clear he kept that anger from that day inside all these decades and never let it go. It kept hurting and he let it hurt. It's as if he didn't want to get better because there was no use getting better. I don't doubt Randy was hurt by the situation, but he wasn't willing to let himself admit that. Rather, he put so much of his pride in Tegridy Farms that he treated it as his own child. After all, all the "dreams" he had so many years ago, Tegridy Farms is the one that was a real success (I'm not counting Lorde, given the outcome of that). It was sort of like a trophy to him, making all those failed dreams worthwhile. He even gloated to Sharon and Shelly about how they were wrong and he was right. It was a matter of his dreams and his pride, which he put into Tegridy Farms. He put so much of his time and energy and being into this weed farm that it engulfed him. He was Tegridy Farms. I think that's why he wouldn't admit he had any part of it because if he did that, it would be taking Tegridy Farms down with him. Tegridy Farms was his pride and joy, he refused to admit any fault with it because that would mean he was wrong - that this was just another "stupid dream" of his. At the end of the day, Tegridy Farms was top priority - not his friends, not his family, but this success he had after so many years of trial and error.

Something else I wanted to take note of was how when Randy heard that Kenny had mentioned Tegridy Farms in his research, he assumed it was for good, saying "He knew it was the way to fix it all." Rather... Tegridy Farms caused the problems, didn't it? Randy had attempted to cure COVID-19, but instead, made the situation worse by giving everyone mustaches and escalating the chaos. However, Randy is so certain that Tegridy Farms is the solution and is in no way a negative, he is unable to see the problems it has caused. He even went as far as to say that China (an enemy of Tegridy) is what caused Stan to burn down the farm. This is absurd, as there was no correlation between Stan's actions and China. Stan burned down the farm because Randy and Sharon were arguing about it. Yet, Randy seemed to have convinced himself that in no way could the deaths of Shelly and Sharon be rooted in Tegridy Farms - it had to be China. That made Tegridy the "good guy". He's put his entire life into defending Tegridy Farms and he's not letting go. He's not moving past his faults and he's not willing to admit anything because he has convinced himself that Tegridy was worth it, that Tegridy has been worth it all these years of defending it, no matter what he's lost in the process.

#sp spoilers #south park #meta #(i really like this one... first time writing anything on the marsh family) #☆ #pc

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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