#crowley misses the kids during holidays

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

Ford pines for headcanons?

YES FUCKCING YES GIRL!!!!!!!! LETS A GO !

A (Realisitic): lovessssss doodling on paper. has an affinity for eyes (;]), swirlies, scribbles, and creatures. whatever he can get his damned hands on he will doodle on it and he will do it happily. my boy's an artist ❤️❤️

B (Not Realistic But Funny): honestly in canon ford's probably into music too much but i can see him being an period music fan. abba, queen (teehee), freetwood mac, david bowie, etc. that's just his VIBE to me, not in the crowley way but in his own strong inks and cigarette smoke way. i associate thoss things with him as well as anythinf existing before 1982 with him alot if u didnt know. i still see something and go "ford missed this 😔" or "ford didn't miss this! 😁" in a sad or happy tone at least once a day /srs. oh i love this guy

C (Heart-Crushing): this kinda collides with D but im keeping it in that category. soul crushing? ford never knowing what to hope for in regards to stan on the other side. whenever he has time to think about it, he isnt sure whether to imagine him in his house or dead in a ditch, and the mystyer honestly scares him more than he'd like to admit. ford kinda treats it like schrodinger's cat in a way--as long as he never confirms, it could really be anything, and that absolves him of any potential guilt. so. (also: that he celebrates holidays out in the multiverse too, when possible. makeshift menoras, pastries in substitute of bday cakes, lighting sticks during new years. just for the sense of grounding. ALSO alsohe's spent at least 3 birthdays in a prison cell or very hurt. so. yeah)

D (Unrealistic but FUCK CANON): has always stuggled with addiction, especially with antidepressants or alcohol. thus sort of snowballs into a whole "if this makes me feel good i cannot have for more than needed" but still ends upgrappling with it anyway. he suffered MAJORRRR withdrawlel when portal stranded and since then swore off it bc he drank the most under bill's influence. it's very important to me and i need more fics about it sooooooo bad, bc while i HAVE written my own, i think someone else is needed to do it justice. now that im remembering this i HAVE read some with this hc and they were beautiful and i need to reread them again and i need to REWATCH THIS DAMN SHOW SO I CAN READ AND WRITE SOME FIC AGAI .... also there IS some evidence as extracted by @/callipraxia (need to find that meta again) but i DOUBT that would ever be canon bc of the kid show rating. (watch the book of bill canonize this seven fucking months from now. i swear to god..../j)

TY FOR THE ASK!!!!!! 💖💖

[shiny-jr]

any thoughts on adult! mc/reader winding up in twst? like, they obviously can’t be enrolled as a student, but the oh-so-kind bird brain can’t just kick you out when you’re in a whole new world; so why not become a janitor??

(i’ll state right here that this whole thing was written for platonic trein (mentioned once) and romantic crewel and crowley, sam can be interpreted as whichever)

it’s not the most loveliest of jobs, but it’s either that or the streets so you take it. some of the students are mean, purposely creating a mess for you to clean up or just mocking you for the predicament you’re in. but you’re an adult, literally fuck these kids so you’re going in on them, scolding them real good to the point that they’re scared to leave behind a crumb of their food

crewel is most impressed by this and even gives you permission to have the ability to lower their grade in his class if they continue to disrespect you. the nerve of those pups…

on occasion you run into the kids that are struggling with school work, work that you’re sometimes able to help out with. other times, it’s something to do with magic so you send them off with advice on where to look for answers. you remember some books related to that specific topic in the library, you had to clean the shelves up. the ghosts at ramshackle are willing to help tutor students if needed, they love to reminisce about the past!

either way, the student is usually leaving feeling much more confident in their assignment and thanks you for the help, even saying you should’ve been a teacher instead. and oh? looks like crowley has caught wind of their praises… perhaps it’s time for a promotion?

it’s with the promotion that the real shit starts; the relationships you’ve built with the staff as a janitor continues to grow with how often they get to see you thanks to meetings and stuff now

crewel is much more inviting towards you, inviting you to join him for lunch and even asks you to have dinner with him. i feel like he’d be quick to quiet down any students that try to talk ill of you in his classroom. during long holiday breaks when everyone can be sent home, he offers you to join him at his place, saying that anywhere is better than that run-down place you’re residing in

he’s honestly not the most subtle about wanting to keep you behind, he tends to say things that make it sound as though the two of you are already living together

if he owns a dog he’s using them to guilt trip you lmao (“poor old spots misses you so much, he asks about you a lot 🥺”)

crowley… he has too much power in this spot. he’s the only person that’s attempting to find a way to send you back home, but he could easily just decide to not do it and force you to stay behind. partly because of how much you’re helping everyone, but also cause he’s got a crush. keeps trying to hype the idea up, saying you have a job already and an amazing home! oh? ramshackle isn’t the most ideal place for you? then go and live with him! he’s more than welcome to have you room with him

crow man would so be the type to say he can give you better things (like a better house, for example) but you gotta repay him by promising to stay behind forever and to be his s/o

ik you mentioned in your platonic! yan! staff post that trein had two fully grown sons so if you wanted to include him then he’s trying so hard to set you up with one of them

sam would have so much potential in this, too. i’m not sure what his friends from the other side can do, but i have a feeling that they may be able to keep you behind as well—hell, remember when they dragged that villain away in the ending to the princess and the frog? the moment you step through that mirror and into your world, those shadows are gonna follow you and bring you right back

also, slight biased here, but he was your bestie as a janitor. probably gave you the best deals on cleaning products and food

oh damn i went on for much longer than i meant to—so sorry about that! 😭 i’m also not sure if this ask crossed any boundaries that you had; if so, then you are more than welcome to ignore or whatever you wanna do

Ah, so here's the thing. If you check under #probably important tags under my profile, you'll see a few posts and one of which states explicitly that whenever I write the twst cast, it's not their canon ages. Stated here. I know most people don't see that, and that's fine, just thought I'd clear that up again. Other than that, not sure how else to reply since it seems like you were just spewing ideas. Which were decent ideas, by the way. Sorry, not sure what else to say since I kinda got overwhelmed by the huge wall of text. But it's also kinda impressive that you managed to send that much in! Sorry, I wish I could respond in another more interesting way, but I'm kind of at a loss here.

[charmed-and-alarmed]

If you enjoyed my nonsense about Aziraphale loving grad students then look no further, I have something even better.  That’s right, I have some ‘furiously doting Crowley’ shenanigans for you

- If you ask Crowley, he will say that he loves college kids because they’re an amazing source of bad ideas and poor decision making. They’re hormonal, stressed, and usually inebriated right at this pivotal moment in their lives - what more could a demon want? And best of all? It was programmed in humans at the very beginning. It was enough to make you wonder what a certain Someone was thinking when they made that decision.

- Aziraphale does not wonder. It’s part of the great Ineffable Plan. The reasoning will become clear to him… eventually. Hopefully.

- Many drunk students over the decades have stumbled out of a bar or party alone, miles away from their beds. They may notice a taxi cab idling just around the corner, light on, waiting for passengers. The window is open and the driver calls out to them as they pass by, offering them a ride home. When you wake up after a night of heavy drinking, you can’t expect to remember much of anything but you can’t help wondering how you paid or why the driver didn’t ask for their address. But with a massive hangover and some social damage control to do, it’s quickly forgotten

- Days or even weeks later, you will find a little business card tucked away in their bag or pocket is black with the words ‘Don’t Be An Idiot’ and the number of a cab company. This company will bring drunk young people home for free, thanks to charitable organization that funds the program. If pressed for details about this charity, the employee will offer to transfer you to the person in charge. You can listen to the tinny, musak cover of ‘Margaritaville’ as long as you want, it doesn’t matter. The call always drops.

- There are tiny slips of paper hidden all around the Fell & Co. bookshop. Between book pages, tucked underneath coasters, crumpled up at the back of a desk drawer. They are coupons, every one unique with its own uniquely hideous design. If you find one, you will be surprised to see that it’s 75%, 90%, off for college textbooks at your local (non-antiquarian) bookstore. It’s always your local bookstore, actually, regardless of where you live. [1]

- Crowley likes to remind everyone that he is a very mean, nasty demon who causes chaos and destruction wherever he goes. Aziraphale likes to remind him of that incident in the 1890s when a young theology student’s beau stormed into the store. He was shouting and threatening violence and shoving books onto the floor as he advanced on the poor, trembling student. It was obvious something had to be done but before Aziraphale could do anything, the awful man cried out in pain and started hopping on one foot, shouting about something biting him.

He still remembers the look on the students face (Jim? Or Jill, he can’t recall) when the brute screamed in terror as a long, black snake slithers across his chest and out behind his neck. There was a moment of shock before Jim or Jill burst out laughing. As the snake slithered down his arm to the shelf nearby, the whole store erupted in laughter. This snake avoided the human hands that tried to pet him, hissed at their cooing compliments and bared his fangs, but no one was afraid. Especially not when it took to napping on the table by the door and hissing at new customers.

- Crowley has no idea what the angel is talking about. On a completely unrelated note the student’s name was Meredith and they went on to teach a course on demonic symbolism in literature at Cambridge. Or so he heard.

- it’s not until the whole “Prepare to Die Fools you shall all peri-, psych! did you really think we were going to end the world? oh man, you should have seen your face” mess was over that Crowley spent any time in the bookshop when it was actually open. That is, not as a snake. It was only after they all didn’t die that Crowley came to the shop shaped like a person.

- those students that recognized the Bentley parked outside started to pack up. The man came inside, calling out ‘Angel’ and waving his hand vaguely in their direction. Suddenly, those students were very interested in staying for a while, maybe play games on their phone for a few minutes as a well deserved break. They returned to their work eventually, annoyed with themselves for procrastinating. Mugs of cocoa appeared, sloshing a little as they ‘thunk’ed onto their coasters. Mr. Fell had asked his friend to serve cocoa which he did as dramatically as possible, sneering at everyone and ‘thunk’ing mugs as loudly as possible. You might have been afraid of this angry man but you can see Mr. Fell in the background smiling fondly at his friend. That initial unease evaporates and you smile at the man. He makes a face and sticks out his tongue at you before turning away. If you noticed that tongue didn’t look normal, you decide it’s not important and go back to work.

1. Crowley invented coupons. The trick, he had explained to the brainless masses of hell during his bi-annual progress report, was the expiration date. You get the human’s hopes up, they think that they’re going to save a little money. Feel oh-so-clever until WHAM. It’s past the expiration date. Humans are so easily distracted. they forget all about it until it’s too late. And there’s that lovely moment of frustration when they find it at the bottom of their bag, reminding them it’s all their fault. It’s just like when one sidewalk segment is slightly taller than the other - a little nudge of anger and frustration ripples outwards all day, passing from one angry human to another. And they do it to themselves!

Hell had not appreciated Crowley’s idea about the sidewalk pavers, and considered the coupon-scheme too complicated to have any real affect. In protest, Crowley invented the manufacturers coupon but that went south quickly, arguments and fights breaking out faster than he predicted. Heaven quickly retaliated and invented the gift card. At this point, it is considered a draw with no points to either side.

#az fell & co #valued customers tag #bc students are the only costumers aziraphale wants in his shop #crowley misses the kids during holidays#but then they bring xmas gifts #crowley tries to make some scathing comment about commercialism and jesus' actual birthdate #but a bunch of them pooled their money together to buy crowley a nice big rock to sun on #err #not for crowley #for the snake #it's a snake gift #for snakes #who miss sunning out in the Garden# i'm not crying angel #you're crying #shut up

[goodomensbingo]

Heaven and Hell would like to extend their favorably inclined and ominous congratulations to all you mortals who dare to have a good time participate in this event!

The Mod Team would especially like to congratulate Ngk_is_cool on their first Blackout!

You demonstrated a keen sense of perseverance and determination. The Mod Team couldn’t be prouder of your achievements! So we prepared this masterpost to showcase the fruits of your labor!

✘   Keep yourself Alive

Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Crowley & Pepper Tags: Second Chances, author doesn't know how to tag without spoilers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe Word count: 829

✘   Taming a Demon Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Crowley & Pepper Tags: Crowley is a cat, Lilith is a cat, No Beta - We Fall Like Crowley, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cats, Word count: 636

✘   Star gazing (is a different kind of hell) Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley Tags: Crowley Created the Stars, First Kiss, Stargazing, meteor shower, POV Crowley, Light Angst, Crowley's Fall, Crowley Hates the 14th Century, Stars, Crowley has Trauma from the Fall, Canon Compliant Word count: 912

✘   The Final Cut Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley Tags: Crowley is a Mess, POV Crowley, Crowley Loves Aziraphale, Light Angst, Ducks, Self-Reflection, Crowley Has PTSD, Aziraphale's Bookshop, Scene: The Bookshop Fire, South Downs Cottage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Almost Apocalypse, aziraphale loves karaoke, Canon Compliant, POV First Person, Crowley's Sunglasses Word count: 1613

✘   No Rest For The Wicked Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Pestilence (Good Omens), Original Characters Tags: The Other Apocalypse rider, look who is back, How Do I Tag, retirement is hell, indirect reference of Covid-19, Mentioned Horsepersons of the Apocalypse, Pandemic, Pandemics Word count: 577

✘   Closer to fine Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Greasy Johnson & Pepper Tags: Pepper Is an Adult,  Post-Almost Apocalypse, World Travel, Desert Inspired by Poetry, A Donkey That Travels Far Does Not Become a Horse, Not That Pepper Is a Donkey, Greasy Johnson is an Adult, I'm Bad At Tagging, Being Lost, Doctor Who References, Not a Crossover, TARDIS references, Africa,  canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Author loves cats, Even Sphynx Cats Word count: 6148

✘   The Bait Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Crowley & Pepper Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cats, Cat Crowley, Prompt Fic, Domestic Fluff, Mentioned Gabriel, very briefly Word count: 556

✘   Sheltered Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale & Gabriel , Aziraphale & Crowley & Gabriel Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - pelican, pelican Crowley, Prompt Fill, Zoo, author has no idea on ornithology, Fluff and Humor, Wings, Aziraphale Loves Crowley, Crowley Loves Aziraphale, one of them is a bird Word count: 669

✘   Sorcerer’s Apprentice Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley Tags: Blasphemy,  Missing Scene,  Before Golgotha,  Aziraphale is Bad at Being an Angel, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon, Miracle gone wrong, Inspired by Poetry, Inspired by Movie (Fantasia), Food as a Metaphor for Love, Prompt Fill, Canon Compliant Word count: 677

✘   A Beach Holiday Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Pollution & War Tags: Canon Compliant, Dolphins, Swimming, Quality Time, Pre-Almost Apocalypse, Mentioned Horsepersons of the Apocalypse, talking about retirement, No Smut, Partial Nudity, Angst, Happy Ending, Depend on the View Point, Misquotes, Quote: We're On Our Own Side Word count: 564

✘   It Started With a Sushi Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Crowley & Original Female Character(s) Tags: Sushi, White Suit Crowley, Canon Compliant, Mentioned Warlock Dowling, Nosy Neighbor, Musicals, Agnes But Not Nutter, A Different Kind of Nutter, Crowley Has a Bad Day, Crowley pulls a Crowley on himself , Elevators Are Hell, Older Characters Word count: 1688

✘   It’s all in the name Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley Tags: Post-Almost Apocalypse , Banter, Historical References, Canon Compliant, Ineffable Idiots, Oblivious Aziraphale and Crowley, Oblivious Aziraphale , rococo, Pole Dancing, Was There Pole Dancing at the Rococo?, Just Another Night at the Bookstore, Chippendale and Chippendales, Aziraphale's Bow Tie, Bow ties are cool, banter without plot Word count: 1611

✘   You must be an angel Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley Tags:Crowley Needs a Hug, Crowley Loves Aziraphale, Protective Aziraphale , Inspired by Music, Ambiguous Aziraphale and Crowley Relationship , Canon Compliant, Post-Scene: Soho 1967, Prompt Fill, Canon Typical Alcohol Consumption, Drunk Crowley, Drunk Aziraphale, Holy Water Word count: 1023

✘   Hand In Hand We’ll Go Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Sergeant Shadwell & Madame Tracy Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Apocalypse, South Downs Cottage, Domestic, Everyone Needs A Hug, New Beginnings, Older Characters, Moving In Together, Scottish nicknames are the best, Feels, Ambiguous Relationships, Asexual Relationship Word count: 584

✘   The First Day Of The Rest Of Their Lives Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Adam & Eve Tags: Mentioned Aziraphale, Mentioned Crowley, Post-Scene: Garden of Eden , Aziraphale's Flaming Sword, New Beginnings, the first cave man, Attempt at Humor, not all snakes answer back, a lot of bird singing, The first day of the rest of their lives, Prompt Fill Word count: 500

✘   SoHo Bookshop Orientation Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & books Tags: Books, Aziraphale's Bookshop, Mentioned Aziraphale, Mentioned Crowley, cocoa is the best, sentients books, No beta we fall like Crowley, Canon Compliant, snores can be cute, Prompt Fill Word count: 692

✘   Showtime Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Aziraphale & Madame Tracy, Aziraphale & Crowley  Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - pelican, pelican Crowley , Snake Madame Tracy, Prompt Fill, no snake was hurt during the writing of this fic, nor any kid, BAMF Aziraphale, Protective Aziraphale, Zoo Word count: 879

✘   Englishman In New York Rating: General Archive warnings: None Relationships: Greasy Johnson & Warlock Dowling Tags: Greasy Johnson is an Adult, Greasy Johnson in New York, Warlock Dowling is an Adult, Warlock Dowling has Ice Cream Firm, Greasy Johnson and Tropical Fish, Stranger in a Strange Land, Post-Almost Apocalypse, Canon Compliant Word count: 590

[collidingxworlds]

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day? (all of them)

Valentine’s Day Alphabet || Accepting !

Crowley Crowley is one of those people who never misses the chance to rant about how Valentine’s is nothing but a commercial holiday, but he also finds it amusing. It’s a great day for pranks and mischief, and have mostly harmless fun at the expenses of the couples. If he also uses it as an excuse to pamper a certain angel, that’s definitely no one’s business.

Five Five couldn’t give less of a damn about Valentine’s Day. He was just a kid when he got lost in the Apocalypse and neither him or his siblings ever celebrated it while they were still living and training under Reginald. At most, the holiday has been, as all the other, an excuse to open a bottle of wine with Dolores and drink it all during the years.  

Dean Dean actually enjoys Valentine’s Day, more than he would be ready to admit. He is a bit of a romantic, whoever knows him well enough can easily see it and he doesn’t exactly deny it...even if he doesn’t openly advertise it either. Even if he hasn’t had a lot of chances to enjoy the holiday in a romantic sense, Valentine’s Day is still the perfect excuse for him to indulge in his passion for sunsets spent walking along a beach with a drink in hand. If he can share it with someone is an added bonus, but he’s not above celebrating it on his own.

Gabriel Gabriel is a bit like Crowley. He finds Valentine’s as a good excuse to play some holiday-themed pranks, but that’s the peak of the importance he gives to the holiday. Besides, he has been around since way before Valentine’s was a thing, so he is more inclined to participate to the pagan celebrations (Lupercalia in this particular case) that some of his fellow deities still held, even if humans no longer recognise those festivities.

Will For Will, Valentine’s is mostly a day like any other. He has never really celebrated it, even in his younger years, both because of his lack of romantic relationships and because he has always preferred focusing on bigger holidays, like Christmas, and birthdays. However, after he has moved to Wolf Trap and started to collect his small pack of strays, he has taken up the habit of bringing home special treats for them on Valentine’s Day. It’s still a day dedicated to love (even if, in his case, he chooses to take the term in a more general sense), so he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t use it to celebrate his best friends.

Abigail Abigail doesn’t really care for Valentine’s Day, either. She’s one of those people who believes that you don’t need a scheduled day to show your loved ones that you care and appreciate them, and she is very cynical towards the people who go crazy during this particular holiday. However, on the other hand, she would still make the little gifts she would normally prepare for her partner extra special, if said partner enjoys celebrating Valentine’s Day.

[glacecakes]

Alchemy Lullaby (7/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did... helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Part 7: Varian spends his first Christmas with his family. There is no actual plot it's just fluff

Read the rest on AO3 

Part of an art trade for the lovely @finnoky once again! Finn is my partner in crime on this au so major shout out to him <3 Yes we are aware it is Halloween season but a) the timeline dictates Christmas and b) JUST LET ME HAVE MY CHRISTMAS SEROTONIN

Also a massive shoutout to the Scar Varian discord, who's support has cured my depression. And all of you! Seriously, the love for this fic is insane I don't know how to handle it lol. If you want more baby Varian content dm me! The Scar Varian server is where we brainstorm baby ideas like, daily. And it's a riot. If you have any ideas you wanna see for this AU send me an ask!  Also the next chapter is gonna be a world of pain enjoy this while it lasts

The castle was abuzz with joy. The maids flitted around the halls, some even humming as they strung up lights and garlands. The frosted windows shone light through their wreaths, basking everything in a wintery-white glow. Even Old Lady Crowley seemed less angry than normal, barking out orders at only half volume. 

Spinning around, Rapunzel hums an old Christmas song. She’s always loved this time of year! Christmas was watching snow, and cuddling up by the fire with chocolate, and cooking gingerbread…! There was so much to be excited about! Even if she never had an official Christmas with her family yet, her steps were light as a feather, confident in this year’s success. Her previous Christmases had been quiet, just her and sometimes Gothel. Now, she had a mother, a father, a boyfriend, and his son! To think, exactly one year ago she never would have thought this could be possible.

The princess twirled to a stop in the throne room. The place was decked to the nines, ribbons and garland and all sorts of red decorated every inch. And in the corner sat a perfect pine, already decorated head to toe. The candles shone down on a confused, pudgy face.

Varian tugged at one of the ornaments. Not hard enough for it to fall, but enough for it to jingle.

Oh, that’s right! She’s not the only one celebrating a first Christmas with family!

The little boy fiddled with the pine needles, marvelling at the bristles and poking soft fingers into needles. He stuck his tongue out and stood on his tiptoes, reaching for a candy cane tied to a higher branch. If only he was a little taller…!

Strong, warm hands wrapped around his stomach and lifted him skyward. 

“Need a hand?” 

Varian looked up at the princess and beamed. “Hi Punzel!”

“Hello, Varian. Did you want the candy cane?”

Varian blinked, confused. “No, I wanted the red hook.” He grabbed the candy cane off the tree and held up his prize. “See?” 

“That’s a candy cane, but it’s just for decoration. If you want actual candy canes, you can head down to the kitchens.” the princess gently took the decor from his hands. 

He frowned, trying to commit the term to memory. “What’s it for?”

“The candy canes?”

“No, the tree!” He yelled right into her ear. 

“Woah, inside voice.” Varian zipped his lip. “It’s for Christmas.”

“Ooooh. What’s that?” he asked.

Rapunzel’s smile fell off her face near instantly. How do you explain a holiday to a toddler…?

“Well, um,” she started. “It’s a day where we all get together and celebrate being a family. We exchange gifts under the tree, and eat snacks, and sing songs… there’s a lot of stuff to do! It’s very fun, you’ll like it a lot, I promise.” 

Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy him. “Celebrate family… like momma?”

“More like you, and me, and Eugene,” Well, and Cass and Lance and her parents, but no overwhelming the baby. Little at a time. 

Baby blue eyes glanced down at the floor. “But… momma is family.” 

There was no denying the wasps in her heart, stinging at the mention of Varian’s mother. How they burrowed deep, whispering how the boy saw Eugene as his father, but not Rapunzel as his mother. It was selfish, she knew it. Varian was much closer to Eugene, he was practically the man’s shadow. But as Eugene’s girlfriend (and hopefully future wife), there was no denying the wish for Varian to see her in a similar light.

Varian still saw that woman as family? That’s ok, he still needed time. Or maybe he’d always see her as family. That was ok too. But hopefully, they could assure Varian that his real family, his loving family, was there for him this Christmas.  

“Varian,” she whispered, gently lifting his chin to face him. “Family loves you, protects you. It’s ok if you still love your momma, but you weren’t safe with her. That’s why you have us now! We’re your family too, and we’ll celebrate Christmas with you, ok?” 

Varian nodded weakly, wrapping short arms around her waist. Outstretched arms squeezed him tight. Then, he broke off, skittering out of the throne room and likely towards the kitchen for those treats.

Rapunzel sighed as she watched him go. He was a smart little thing, learning faster than anyone could teach. On more than one occasion she spotted the precocious kid trying to heave a too heavy book around the library. One thing he was particularly fond of were the sciences. From Astronomy to Zoology, Varian ate it all up, greedily grabbing any book that even looked like it was informational. He was also a big fan of the Flynn Rider series, but that may be more because Eugene was so eager to share it with him. Ever since Lance told him Eugene used to be Flynn Rider, Varian assumed he’d meant the book Flynn, and his love for his dad became near fervent in nature. 

But while Varian adored learning about the world around him, there were certain things he struggled to pick up. Social cues were a big one. He was dreadfully shy around strangers, and a little hellion to those he knew. On one memorable occasion, Varian had insisted on dressing himself, resulting in a day of backwards shirts and missing pants. Anytime Eugene tried to fix it, he’d screamed like the man was stabbing him. 

Poor Eugene had needed a drink after that. 

The point is, Varian loved to learn, but he still struggled with sociability, not unlike Rapunzel when she first came home. It sounded like he grew up in the same way, isolated from other people, relying only on a controlling mother. Thankfully, Varian was saved at a much younger age. Rapunzel could only pray that meant he’d flourish now.

-

Varian struggled to understand the world around him sometimes. 

There were some things he understood perfectly well, like how Ruddiger was his friend. There were some things he knew were true but didn’t really get why, like how his family hated his momma. And there were some things he was completely lost on, which in this case, was Christmas. 

Everyone around him was so cheery, so lively, even more so than usual. Whenever he asked why, he got the same answer: It’s almost Christmas! Christmas is tomorrow! But when he asked what Christmas was, what Rapunzel meant by singing and eating and gifts, everyone had a different answer! How was he supposed to figure it out if everyone had a different idea of what Christmas was? 

Everyone was busy preparing for… something. Varian wasn’t sure what. A party, maybe? So soon after the last one? That party sucked, but at least he got to introduce Ruddiger to everyone.

After that debacle, Eugene hadn’t been so keen on letting Varian keep the baby raccoon. The boy wasn’t even 5 yet, how was he supposed to care for his own pet? Rapunzel mentioned she’d been about his age when she met Pascal, but apparently a chameleon and raccoon are two very different things. Bummer.

Eventually, they settled on a compromise: Ruddiger was an outdoor animal who belonged outdoors, but during the winter and night he was allowed to be inside. And once Varian got older, he might be allowed to keep Ruddiger full time! 

Since it was snowing today, Ruddiger got to happily trail the child, keeping close to his feet as they traversed the castle. He said hi to the maids and guards as he walked by, but right now, Varian was trying to find his family. He technically wasn’t allowed to wander the castle alone, but King Frederick was really the only stickler about that rule. Varian had survived 6 months on the street, he could survive the short walk to and fro. 

Just as he passed the kitchens, a sweet smell tickled his nose, followed by a deep, familiar voice singing. His pet noticed it too, already waddling into the kitchen. Varian followed, and sure, enough, Eugene’s best friend was there.

“Hi Lance!” Varian squeaked. He latched onto the burly man’s legs. 

Lance leaned down from his place by the stove. He’d just finished taking the gingerbread out of the oven, the golden brown sizzling on the sheet. Carefully, so as not to drop the sheet on the child, Lance set the cookies down with one hand and ruffled black hair with another. 

“Hey there, kiddo! I thought I told you to call me Uncle Lance,” he grinned at how Varian squirmed under his palm.

Varian giggled. “Eugene said you’re not really my uncle.” Those giggles doubled at Lance’s mock offended face. 

“After everything we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for him, and he won’t call me a brother!” He gripped his chest, and his knees sunk to the floor. “It hurts… my heart…” with an overdramatic wail, Lance fell back and squished Varian to the floor. His weight wasn’t entirely on this child, he didn’t want to crush him, but it was enough to send Varian sprawling. 

Honestly, Varian didn’t get why Eugene was so against him calling Lance his uncle. He didn’t even know what an Uncle was! Shrieking laughter emanated from the toddler. “Lance!! Get off!” He said.

“Sorry, can’t, Lance is dead.”

“Nooooo!”

“Yesssss, the only cure,” the thief sighed, “Is for a brave, smart kid to call him… uncle…”

“Uncle Lance!” Varian shrieked. “Uncle Lance get off!” Almost instantly he sat upright, freeing his prisoner. 

“I live!” He cried, scooping Varian up and standing. “Thank you, sweet child!” He smushed their cheeks together in joy, only letting go when he had to bat Ruddiger away from his creation. 

“No bud! Gingerbread is bad for raccoons… probably,” 

Varian hadn’t heard that word before. “Gingerbread?” It smelled so good, surely Lance wouldn’t mind if he stole one, right? The guy adored him.

“Ah-ah!” Lance spun away from the stove, cookies now out of reach. He ignored the whines. “Gingerbread cookies can only be eaten if they’re decorated.” Setting Varian on a nearby counter, the man grabbed a few icing pipettes and candy pieces. “Gingerbread men need gingerbread clothes!” 

The next hour was filled with messy cookies and sprawling icing. White sugar covered nearly every surface, as Varian couldn’t figure out the right pressure to use a pipette. Eventually he gave up, letting Lance do the drawing while he added buttons and eyes in the form of candies. Every so often, Varian would hand a small treat to Ruddiger, enjoying fuzzy whiskers that tickled his hand. It was a comfortable silence, both of them invested in their individual activity. By the time Lance finally spoke again, the sun had tracked across the room and shone through the window. 

“So,” he said, tongue sticking out as he drew a face onto his cookie. “Why Eugene?” His companion stuck his head up, confused. He licked the sugar off his fingers. “What about him made you want to stay with him?”

Varian glanced down, deep in thought. “He’s nice,” he started. “He gives me lots of hugs, and makes me laugh.”

“Yea? What else?”

“Eugene is… super cool! He’s pretty, and he let me keep Ruddiger, and he loves me…” his small voice trailed off. The heat from sunlight warmed his bones, layering him in laziness. A yawn escaped him. 

He was just about to doze off, mind still trying to think of compliments, when soft knocking shook him awake. Cassandra nodded at him, bundled up in her winter coat. 

“It’s high time someone got fresh air,” She said in her monotone voice, so Varian slid off the counter to join her. He waved to Lance on the way out, and off they went. 

No sooner than they left, Rapunzel peeked her head in. “Hey Lance! I have an idea…”

-

Ruddiger zoomed ahead, happily digging up snow and dirt to catch a meal. The winter sun was bright yet also weak, sparkling off snow mounds. Varian’s small boots kicked up powder as he walked, each step more exaggerated than need be. He gripped Cassandra’s hand tightly. Out of everyone Varian frequently interacted with, she scared him the most… except maybe for the King. But he trusted her not to let him get hurt, not after saving him from the Stabbingtons. 

Sure enough, she whispered “Careful, it’s slippery.” And lifted him up and over the patch of ice with just her hands. 

“Wow, you’re really strong,” She raised her eyebrow at him. 

“I have to be, it’s my job to keep Rapunzel safe.”

Just Rapunzel? Not him, not Eugene? What about the king? Didn’t they need protecting? Thankfully, Cassandra saw his confused face and smiled faintly. “And you, someone’s gotta clean up after you.”

“Eugene said it’s rude to leave things for the maids to clean up.” 

A look akin to shock overtook her face. She stopped walking, temporarily startled, forcing Varian to stop with her. “He said that?” A nod. “Huh. Guess he’s not a terrible father after all.”

That caught the child’s attention. Rage simmered in his gut, bubbling and twisting his insides around. He glared up at her with a look he hoped was intimidating, but judging by her veiled laughter, he’d failed. A booted foot stomped the snow, and by his side small black spikes sprouted. It wasn’t noticeable, only as tall as his shoelaces, but it was there regardless. Just as fast as it appeared, the rage fell down his body and leaked out into the earth.

“Don’t call Eugene bad,” Varian pouted, cheeks puffing up and lip jutting out. “He’s the best!”

“Oh yea? Why’s that?” Cassandra teased, resuming their walk. 

“He’s a reallllllly good reader. Like, really good. And he’s smart,” That got a laugh. “And he saved me!” 

“So did I,” she reminded him, but that just got her frustrated boot shuffles. At last the handmaiden took pity on him. “Ok, ok. I’m sorry I called Eugene a bad dad. He loves you very much, and you love him.” He preened. 

He went to speak, but soft crunches interrupted his train of thought. From around the bend, two familiar and burly men step into view. 

“...no word from either of them, but Hector never answers my letters anyway-” Quirin was speaking, with Frederick hanging onto his every word. Their faces were both solemn, stoic and businesslike. Whatever they were talking about, it was likely serious. But the seriousness evaporates when Quirin catches sight of the young child. “Hello there!” Frederick’s face remains impassive, but he seems to let the subject drop. At least for now. 

Something about Quirin just screams welcoming to Varian. It’s strange. His time on the streets as well as his encounter with the Stabbingtons should have made Varian terrified of men like him, but Quirin’s autumn scent and warm smile relaxed Varian. He grinned his toothy smile and waved. 

“Your majesty,” Cassandra bowed. The King nodded, and she stood back up. He gave Varian a nod as well, but he had no idea to react. Bow? Smile? Hide? All of those options sounded like a bad idea, so he just stood still for now. 

“Hello, Cassandra, Varian.” The latter name was said with a hint of apprehension. “Enjoying the weather?”

“Yes sir,” The lady-in-waiting responded, and she gently nudged Varian. He nodded frantically, so fast his head might as well have flown off. Quirin seemed amused, at least. 

“Don’t stay out too long, we don’t want this young man to catch a cold,” Quirin ruffled Varian’s hair, and the child blushed. 

“We won’t, sir.” Cassandra bowed to him as well. Satisfied, they moved on, leaving Varian and Cassandra to finish their walk around the castle ground. “Cassie? Who is Quirin?” 

She seemed surprised by the question. “Who is he? I think he’s an advisor, or something.”

“A what?”

“He helps the king.”

Varian’s mouth dropped open in an “o” shape. Who knew Kings needed help? Not him, that’s for sure! 

“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.” She led him away, until Varian couldn’t see either man when he turned around. 

“As I was saying, Adira is hard to track down, but-” Quirin’s words halted as he stumbled over something. “What the…” A small cluster of black rocks, innocent and unflinching. The men shared a nervous glance. 

When Cassandra dropped Varian off inside, she watched as Varian toddled off to find Eugene, turned around, and came face to face with a Rapunzel grinning like a maniac. 

The princess covered her friend’s mouth before she could scream. “Come on! I need your help. We only have a few more hours!” Without any explanation, Cass found herself being dragged off to god knows where. 

-

Waking up on the early side was not new to Varian. Ever since he’d come to the castle, Eugene would drag him out of bed no later than 9:30 am. And he’d learned to adapt, even if Varian preferred to get up when the sun’s rays were directly overhead. But 7 was really pushing it. 

“Noooo!” He whined, clutching his sheets like a lifeline. “I don’t wanna get up!” 

Eugene grunted from where he was holding his legs. For a 4 year old Varian had a hell of a grip. “Come on, kid, you can go back to sleep when we’re done if you want! Don’t have to change out of your pjs either. But you gotta get up now or you’re gonna miss your surprise.” 

“Nooooo!” Varian wailed, burying his head into the duvet. 

“Yesssss.” 

With one final tug, Eugene managed to dislodge his child from his bed, sending them both sprawling on the floor. They laid there for a moment. Eugene questioned his life choices as Ruddiger rounded the bed and licked his face. 

He carried Varian down the corridor to the throne room. At this early hour, the only people about were night shift guards preparing to turn in. A strange quiet filled the castle, a sense of peace lingered. It would be a nice experience if Varian wasn’t bone-tired. Honestly who decided that 7 am was a normal time to get up? It was understandable during the summer, but not at Christmas!

Grand doors swung upon, revealing the same setup as yesterday, only several people sat under the tree. Familiar blonde hair swung around to reveal Rapunzel’s exuberant face. By her side stood her family plus Lance and Cass, all looking tired but content. Presents sat scattered, surrounded by pine needles that had fallen. 

“Merry Christmas!” She cried as she stood up and ran over. Both boys found themselves in a trademark bear hug. “It’s our first Christmas as a family, how exciting!” 

“Sunshine, you’re squishing meeee!” Eugene wheezed, face turning red. The princess paid him no heed, leading him (and by extension, Varian) over to the pile. Several gifts with multiple names in fun colors and patterns awaited them. It was at this time Varian realized he knew how to read most things, but his name was not one of them. Thankfully, Rapunzel was eager to hand out everyone’s gifts. Slowly Varian’s pile grew larger and larger.

Cassandra winced. “I think you went a little overboard, Raps,” 

“Nonsense! What makes you say that?” Cassandra pointed to where Varian sat by a pile larger than himself. He leaned against Eugene, eyes drooping. 

The man rustled his shoulder. “Wake up, kiddo, open your presents.”

“My what?”

“All those boxes, they’re for you! They have fun stuff inside them.”

“Like what?”

The gathering broke into chuckles. “Why don’t you find out?” asked Arianna. 

Curious eyes grabbed the largest box and fingers ran across its paper. Happy snowmen decorated the outside, and he was loathe to destroy it. But Rapunzel gave him a thumbs up, and that was all the invitation needed. With a war cry, Varian ripped off smiling snowmen with claw and fang. Even Ruddiger joined in on the mayhem, happily shaking his head as he held a piece of wrapping paper. The box gave way to…. Another box? But this one was on wheels.

A cart! A painted cart! It was light blue, just like his hair, and painted on the side was a name. Varian ran his fingers over it in confusion. 

“Ruddiger,” Eugene whispered. “It says Ruddiger. So he can stay with you.” Varian’s eyes lit up in understanding. Without any pomp, he scooped up the raccoon and plopped him straight into the cart, much to Ruddiger’s confusion. Then, like a shot out of a canon, they were off. Varian screeched with delight as he zoomed around the throne room, wheels clacking against the marble floor as Ruddiger chittered in similar joy. 

“So, I think he likes it!” Rapunzel chimed. 

“He better,” Cassandra muttered. She was not a fan of staying up till midnight to help Rapunzel wrap her last-minute Christmas gifts. Lance got to do the easy part, too. All he had to do was sign! Meanwhile Cassandra nearly broke her nail for that one gift. 

“Varian, you can play with that some more after the rest of your gifts! Come say thank you!” Eugene called. The child skidded to a stop, happily launching himself at Rapunzel for a hug. 

“Thank you Punzel! Love you!” He pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. It should’ve been gross, but to her, it was perfect.

Eugene smiled from his seat on the floor. It was pretty damn perfect to him too.

[pathetic-has-been-rockstar]

The ghost of Christmas present

Pairing: Crowley x reader, Dean x Castiel, Sam x Eileen

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Square filled: Christmas tree

Warnings: none

Summary:  You finally join the boys for the holidays, with Crowley shadowing you. Dean decides to show Jack another sliver of the Christmas experience, and brings him to cut down the Christmas tree for the bunker. You and Crowley are supposed to look for the decorations, while Sam and Eileen bake some Christmas treats. The plan is destined to change drastically when someone unexpected shows up at the bunker.

Words: 3577

Beta: @raspberrymama​ (make sure to check her works!)

my work can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

When you finally make it to the bunker and kill the engine, the sun is already setting. You pull the handbrake and look at the last rays of sunlight playing between the branches of the trees, taking a deep breath before opening your car door and letting the cold air hit you.

It's been a long trip, mostly because of the slow traffic, and you are happy about the company Crowley provided. You weren't expecting him to join you, you didn't suspect that bickering with someone could make the road seem shorter, and yet it worked. He comes out from the car, fixes his peacoat and looks at you, grinning.

“See? I told you we'd make it before sunset.”

“Consider this: if you say I told you so another time, I'm stabbing you.”

“You would never kill me.”

“I never said I'd kill you. In fact, I can freely stab you without killing you. Must have a knife somewhere around here...” you answer, rolling your eyes.

You're taking your bag from the trunk of your car when the Impala comes out from the bunker's garage. The car stops and Dean and Jack walk out.

“What's he doing here?” Dean barks, hinting at the demon. You shrug.

“Hello, Dean. I'm happy to see you, too. Two days on the road are so worth this warm welcome.”

Jack giggles at Dean's expression and comes to greet you with a proper hug, to which you happily respond. You really like this new side of the kid. Physical affection always seemed somehow taboo around the boys, but thankfully it looks like you can add that to the list of things changing.

Crowley waves a hand at Jack, who doesn't get the hint and hugs him anyway, even if he draws back pretty quickly. Crowley doesn't seem happy about it, but he just smooths his coat with a vaguely disapproving look.

A pretty amused Dean finally imitates Jack and briefly squeezes you in a quick hug. He just shoots a cold glance at Crowley, who smiles at him, obviously very pleased with his retained ability to ruffle Dean's feathers. Speaking of which...

“Aren't you an angel short, Squirrel?”

“Cas is going to be back tonight, I think. Sam and Eileen are inside, hunkered down in the kitchen making... sweets, and maybe something else. Just... just make yourself heard when you walk in.”

You laugh at Dean's expression, easily guessing what's prompting this advice. The mention of Castiel made him a bit uneasy, so you grace him with a change of subject.

“What's with the lumberjack gear?” you ask, pointing at the axe laying on the backseat of the Impala.

Dean seems extremely grateful about the chance you offered him, and quickly takes advantage of it. “Oh, I'm teaching Jack how to pick a Christmas tree! I haven't done it in a million years.”

“You've done it before?”

“Yeah, years ago. I worked in one of those Christmas villages. I cut down trees, found hidden spots with the sexy ladies... fun times!”

You ignore the poorly hidden bragging attempt in favour of the easy mocking “... please, tell me you were dressed as an overgrown elf and had to wear a hat with little bells and stuff.”

“... I only had to wear a hat, but thanks for picking this up. You'll love the Christmas picture.”

You look for answers right away. That hadn't been mentioned in any of the calls or texts. “Christmas picture? What Christmas picture?”

“Ask Sammy, it was his idea!” Dean literally drags Jack over to the Impala, and waves a hand at you and Crowley, pretending not to hear your protests. You shake your head, more convinced than ever that they came up with something terrible and ridiculous that will haunt you for years to come. You grab your bag and walk inside the bunker, with Crowley right behind you.

“Well, it surely looks better when you're not dragged inside in chains.” he casually muses.

“... I wouldn't know, I lack the chained perspective.”

“We could easily fix that, if you'd like.”

You thank the fact that he can see only your shoulders, since you can feel your cheeks heating up. You know he's always been a flirty bastard, but since he's back he's been... relentless. Boredom makes him even more explicit, and definitely more careful about where he swings his punches... and you surely are an easy target. You doubt he's interested in you, also given your night shared in perfect innocence, but this doesn't mean that you're not still gloating about the way you woke up that morning.

You call for Sam and see him coming out from the kitchen wearing an apron, half covered in flour, and with something that looks like powdered sugar in his hair. You laugh and dodge his hug, but he grabs you anyway. While you try to wiggle free of him, you see Eileen coming out of the kitchen.

She signs a swift arch from her temple, smiling. “Hello!”

You finally break free of Sam, now covered in whatever was on his apron, and walk to Eileen, replicating her gesture. You hug her, as well, and you notice that she's definitely cleaner than Sam.

“... what happened there?”

“Uh... Christmas magic?” Sam tries. Eileen, calling him out, taps her palm with her other hand and rolls it over, then signs a small square. The sign for “kitchen” is immediately followed by a quick touch on her chin with a closed hand and both her indexes pointing down, “accident”.

You laugh and Sam tilts his head, bemused.

“You know ASL?”

“Just a few words, and believe me, accident is one of those I've learnt first.”

“... what about kitchen?”

“I always need to know where I can find the food, Sam. Always”, you reply with a very serious face, a second before cracking up. Just then Sam seems to notice Crowley.

“What are you doing here?”

Crowley rolls his eyes, annoyed. “Oh, yes. I can definitely tell you and Squirrel are related, you know? She needed a co-pilot, so I volunteered. I planned on leaving, but since it looks like you and your brother are equally upset by this... I'm staying.”

“Oh, no. Not...”

Eileen tugs firmly at the sleeve of his shirt, and Sam sighs, then shrugs. He looks at you, trying to ignore the smug look of Crowley.

“Fine. Whatever. Uh... we still have something to do here, can you go and take the decorations for the tree?”

“Yeah, sure. I'll set my stuff down and go... where?”

“Basement, right after the dungeon. In case you want to throw him in there, you're welcome.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle, but Crowley doesn't seem particularly amused by Sam's innuendo. He bows lightly his head at Eileen, and follows you in your room. You pass the door, and go to take the furthest one, causing him to question you.

“Didn't you sleep in there?”

“Yes. Before.”

“Before what?”

You walk inside your new room, smiling. “Before Sam and Eileen, and before Dean and Castiel” you answer, leaving down your bag and walking to the small sink to wash your face.

“Dean and Castiel?” Crowley is forced to ask, but he's distracted. You're taking away your scarf and coat, and the thing is absorbing a considerable portion of his attention. He bites his lip, narrowing his eyes on you and following even your smallest movement.

You move your hand in a “so and so” gesture, completely oblivious of what's going on with him. “Not yet, but soon. Very soon, if Christmas magic works.”

Crowley grins, far too happy about the excuse you just provided him. “I can't miss this. I'm staying, for sure.”

You shrug, wash your face and dry it off with a clean towel, then turn to him. “Fine. Bugger off now, I need to take a shower. After that, you'll make yourself useful and help me with the decorations.”

With a swift nod and a grin, Crowley leaves you alone.

Walking in the woods, Dean points at a pine tree. It looks pretty solid, not incredibly tall, and it's perfect for the purpose, with lush branches and splendid green needles. He shows Jack how to check for animals on it, and where to cut down the trunk.

Jack drinks in every bit of information, and looks at Dean trying to prove his skills. When the axe gets stuck inside the bark and doesn't seem willing to come out in any way, a clear “son of a bitch!” echoes through the calm woods, followed by a few other curses.

Trying not to laugh too openly, Jack approaches the tree. “May I?”

Dean gives up and takes a couple of steps back. “... please.”

Apparently without the slightest effort, Jack pulls away the axe. After that, he puts a hand on the cut in the bark, and the tree slowly and softly leans on one side, falling elegantly to the ground in an almost choreographed appearance. Dean looks at the tree, then at Jack, then back at the tree.

“... alright kid... time to drag that thing to the car. I know it's not funny, but it has to be done.”

“Dean, I could...”

“I said let's drag that thing, alright?”

Jack nods and starts trying to help Dean, with mixed results, but no one of them can stop laughing.

The tree has been placed at the entrance of the library. Dean stands by it, looking at it like a proud father would stare at his kid during the Christmas play. Sam joins him after a few minutes, bringing him a beer.

“Look at that, Sammy. Isn't it beautiful?”

“Yeah, it's pretty neat.”

“Where are the decorations?”

“Uh... I don't know.”

“You don't know. I left you and Eileen to take care of the kitchen, and Y/N just had to pick up the boxes. The cookies aren't ready, I see no candy canes, there's not a single wreath anywhere, no mistletoe, not a single...”

Sam interrupts him, explaining why he doesn't mean to investigate the lack of decorations. “Crowley is in there, with Y/N. They've been there... a while, I guess.”

Dean laughs. “Well, I ain't setting foot in there. Oh, and... Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“You got flour on your ass.”

Dean doesn't even try to hide his laughter while Sam walks away, blushing like a teenager caught in the act. He takes another sip from his beer and shivers, feeling a sudden drop in the air temperature around him.

The things in the closet are pretty different from what the Winchesters are picturing. You're sitting on the floor, wrestling the lights and trying to untangle the cable with very poor results, while Crowley keeps muttering and rummaging in the boxes.

“Why does it have to be an angel?”

You turn to him, stopping for a moment before you unwittingly end up in a trap of your own making “... pardon?”

“Why does it have to be an angel on top of the tree? We already have a real one, can't we skip this, at least?”

“... what do you mean, we have a real one? It's not like we're tying up Cas and heaving him up on the top of the tree.”

“We should at least consider it.”

“Crowley, I swear to God.”

“You're no fun, kitten. I bet Dean would appreciate a Christmas bondage edition of his beau. Why do the Men of Letters have an angel figurine, anyway? Didn’t they kill angels?”

Exasperated by your fruitless efforts, you finally lift your head from the tangled mess of lights and look at him “Why are you still here, Crowley?”

“To poke Squirrel and Feathers, and to irk Moose. Why?”

“Because they are not here. And you are here, helping me. Maybe there's something else.” The last sentence slips past your lips before you can shut up. Crowley shrugs, looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“Do you really think I am here because I care about this tomfoolery of Christmas, and family, and sappiness?” He asks, in the tone of someone disproving a ridiculous claim. He is not there for Christmas. He decided to go with you. Surely you noticed that, you must have noticed. He travelled with you, for fuck's sake. A demon on your passenger seat is pretty hard to miss.

“I'm just saying you're in here, complaining with me about an angel figurine that we can't even find, instead of being up there, annoying them.” You start to pull and twist the wire once again, mindlessly trying to keep your hands busy and your head low. Of course he doesn't care.

“I'm not complaining, I'm trying to be rational. Their symbol is a star. Couldn't they use that? There's a bloody comet in that fairytale, isn't there?”

“Oh God, Crowley, yes, alright, no angel! No angel, ok? Just shut your mouth, I beg you.” For a second, you thought that he wasn't interested just in being a sort of Grinch, but you were obviously wrong. It's been stupid to keep your hopes high, even for a second.

Ignoring completely the way you snapped at him, he looks at you. “You know... there are more interesting ways to make me shut up, and funnier reasons to beg.”

You try to stand up from the floor, on the verge of exasperation, but you're so tangled up in the Christmas lights thread that you can't really move. Regretting already what you're about to say, you turn to the demon.

“... Crowley... can you help me?”

“Oh, sure I can. But will I?” is the predictable answer you get. You start thrashing against the improvised festive chains, but he laughs and walks closer to you. “Don't make it worse.”

You stay still, with a very annoyed expression, looking away while Crowley's hands work on the apparently inextricable mass around you, chuckling.

“How in the Hell's name did you manage...”

“... I thought to pass it around my arm to have a wider loop, but I guess it wasn't a great plan.” you mutter through your teeth, prompting more laughter from Crowley. When his fingertips graze the naked skin on your arms, you jump a little. He mercifully pretends not to notice, applying a bit more pressure and lingering more than necessary.

For a while you just sit there, feeling clumsy, but somehow enjoying the fact that his attention is focused exclusively on you. As soon as you're free from the improvised snare, you stand up and try to open the door. It'd be better to leave it open to carry the boxes more easily, but when you try the handle, you find it locked.

“Uh... that's weird.”

“... what's weird?”

“The door's locked.”

“... kitten, you don't need excuses to spend time with me.” Crowley simpers, looking at you.

“Try for yourself, smartass.”

After a few attempts, both from you and Crowley, the door stays obstinately closed. You exchange a confused stare, before you try to text Sam or Dean. You soon realize your phone has no signal.

“That's weirder. Can't you open it with your powers?”

“Iron encrusted with salt, same goes for the walls.” Crowley answers you. It's partially true, but he doesn't mind being locked in there with you. He goes to sit on one of the lower cabinets, then studies you.

“So... it looks like we have some time to kill.”

Sam is telling Eileen why he was so upset when he came back in the kitchen, putting all his emphasis on the signs for "idiot" and "jerk". Eileen quietly shrugs.

"It's not exactly a secret, Sam. No need to be shy about this."

Sam blushes violently and tries to explain himself, when the door slams behind him. He tilts his head, confused, and he tries to open it, with no success. A moment later, the air becomes colder. Eileen looks at him and hits her open palm, lifting her hand in a wavy motion, spelling a single word.

“Ghost.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn't question her. After all, she is quite the expert on the subject. They both rush to the tool shelf, grabbing anything made of iron they can find and the salt, standing back to back, looking around them.

“How did it come in here?” Sam asks, only to feel a sharp elbow against his back. He turns just in time to see a vaguely human form charging at him, violently shoving Eileen against one of the walls.

The ghost attacks Sam, who can't swing his piece of iron fast enough, and it locks his hands on his throat. He tries to fight back, but he doesn't manage. The piece of iron is yanked away from his hand, and he's pushed on his knees first, then with his back on the floor. His lungs start to ache for air when the ghost disappears. Eileen stands there, her hair stuck to her face, her eyes wide with worry.

“Are you okay?”

Sam nods and touches his throat, then takes a deep breath, coughing a couple of times. He then stands up, taking Eileen's hand. Apparently, the ghost has left them alone, for now.

“Where did that thing come from?”

“We really should get out of here and find out”, she answers, already starting to look around for something they can use to get out of the kitchen.

Sam hurls himself at the door a couple of times, but when he's done, he just gained a sore shoulder and a very disapproving look from Eileen.

“When has that ever worked against magic?”

“... there might always be a first time...” Sam answers, awkward.

“Looks like it's not today. Help me find something useful, come on.”

When Castiel appears back in the bunker, he's confused, for a second. Dean is pinned against the floor, apparently choking, clawing at his chest with his hands.

“Dean!”

The hunter doesn't seem to hear him, as he goes paler by the second. That's when Castiel realizes what's happening, and his eyes start beaming blue. He immediately identifies the source of danger and strides to the ghost crouched over Dean's chest.

He grabs it, and he catches the surprised stare of the ghost, a second before blasting him back in the Veil. Hopefully, this time a reaper will be able to find the soul and lead it to Heaven or Hell.

Castiel then kneels next to Dean, touching his forehead. His grace flows for a moment, healing the minor wounds left by the attack of the ghost, and Dean takes a deep breath.

“Hey... nice timing.”

“What happened?”

“I... there was a ghost.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, helping Dean to a sit on the floor. “I saw that. How did it get in here? This place is supposed to be protected.”

“Yeah, well... Kevin walked in, when he was a ghost.”

“That was different. He wasn't a vengeful spirit, he didn't mean you any harm, and he died here. This man was murdered more than fifty years ago.”

“Why was he here, then?”

Castiel's worry is quickly substituted by relief while he helps Dean back on his feet. “That's what I'm asking you. Have you brought in anything that might be connected to a murder?”

“What? No! We didn't bring anything, we just... oh, crap.” Dean mutters, looking at the tree. Castiel follows his stare and guesses what he's thinking.

“Are you joking?”

“Well...”

Castiel stands up, goes to check the tree, then turns back to Dean, raising his arms in a rare display of incredulity and exasperation. “A whole forest out there, and you pick the only tree that doubles as a tombstone for a vengeful spirit, probably killed by the Men of Letters?”

Dean just shrugs, unsure about what to say, then his gaze softens. “Yeah, I'm lucky like that. Anyway, Cas... thank you for showing up.”

“Of course, Dean. You know I...”

“You always come when I call, yes. I know. That's... that's incredible, you know? Knowing you got my back... I wouldn't know what to do without you.”

Cas sighs, not sure about the implications. He's never sure about the implications with him. “You've made it this far. I'm sure you would manage.”

Dean scoffs. “But I wouldn't like it. I'm glad you're around for our first real Christmas. Where were you?”

Castiel smiles, finally giving Dean a playful look. “You're gonna have to wait until Christmas morning to find out. Come on, let's go to check on the others.” He walks to Dean and offers him his hand. Right away, Dean grabs it and pulls himself up, smiling when he finds himself on his feet, face to face with Castiel.

For a moment, Dean stands there, just studying the angel's face. He's amazed by how gracefully his vessel aged, and at the same time he finds unfair the fact that he won't be able to see his true form.

Just as he's moving a hand towards Castiel, the sound of a slamming door echoes from the corridor leading to the kitchen. Dean rolls his eyes, slightly annoyed and immediately feeling guilty about it. He's supposed to check on everyone else.

“That's the sound of someone doing good. Hey, Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Wanna go pick another tree, once we're sure everyone's doing good and… you know, burn down this one?”

“It's probably safer, yes. I'll go check on Jack, you make sure Sam and the girls are alright.” Cas replies with a nod, heading for Jack's room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! 

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost or copy my works or part/s of it, not even if you give credits.

[omniishambles]

Question about all your muses - who celebrates Christmas (either in a religious or a more "excuse to see loved ones, give/receive presents and stuff yourself full of good food" kind of way) and who doesn't? Why?

Drew: All about that big family Christmas with the MacFusty clan. They’re wizards so they don’t follow the religious aspects of Christmas but do celebrate as a way to get together and reflect on the year behind them. Friends are often invited too, so a MacFusty Christmas is a pretty big party! It’s more about good food, a drink and a dance for them.

Tobias: Again, this muse doesn’t celebrate Christmas as a religious festival but as a seasonal event for family and friends. He’s on call 24/7, however, so he has to work around the responsibilities of his job. Tobias loves any opportunity to spoil his nephews and nieces though so they get a lot of presents! He enjoys giving gifts and is just as generous with his family members and friends. 

Camniel: As the Archangel sent to comfort Christ shortly before his Crucifixion, Camniel observes Christmas in the religious sense and as a sign of respect, but honestly he enjoys all the different ways that Christmas is celebrated, religious or not. He doesn’t have any family on Earth and very few friends, so he spends the majority of the time performing Mass and visiting those who might also be lonely on Christmas Day, some of his more vulnerable and elderly parishioners. He’s there to comfort them. He also donates presents to the kids who need it most.

Hannibal: While he joins in with general Christmas festivities, he does not observe it as a religious celebration. Despite having many acquaintances, Hannibal has very few friends. If anything, it’s a golden opportunity for a festive dinner party. Decorations are sparse in his home, however, stretching to a very fine wreath on the front door.

Villanelle: She has no family other than Konstantin, and he has his own family to celebrate with. Villanelle is likely to decorate just for the fun of it and an excuse to spend wild amounts of money, but she doesn’t have anyone to spend her time with. It’s just another day, but with more glitter and expensive santa ornaments.

Agent J: The MIB observe Christmas just as they observe other celebrations from all across the galaxy. In fact, there are 14 other ‘holidays’ that coincide with Earth Christmas, so there are screens all around the Arrival and Departure lounges flashing up messages in various alien languages. J keeps a custom Santa figurine on his desk, a quirky little joke gift to all agents from Z. He wears the traditional black suit of MIB with a matching Santa hat and shades.

Nicholas: As an agnostic, Nicholas only celebrates Christmas as an opportunity to see family and friends. Those were in quite short supply back in London, but in Sandford the entire police service go all out to decorate the station and their desks. 

Dracula: The Count does not really celebrate Christmas himself, but he’ll join in with whatever festivities the humans are up to because he finds it fun and he likes to be around people. The religious aspect is boring to him, though he has some appreciation for the method of execution. 

Viago: The excuse for pretty decorations is a good one, though Viago and his flatmates avoid crucifixes for obvious reasons. They like the trees and the lights and the delivery service provided to them by neighborhood carolers :) 

Jonathan: Not a particularly God fearing man, Jonathan celebrates Christmas time as a party and a chance for a good time. Obviously he spends his time with Evie on the actual day, and continues to do so after she and Rick are married. His immediate family are the only ones who receive gifts, though. His friends are usually up for a drink instead!

Irene: Again, not a religious woman, but always one to appreciate the finer things in life, which means her celebrations are done in style. During her marriage, Christmas was a huge affair with many guests and gifts (and an excuse to get away from her husband after she realised how boring married life was).

Sherlock: He doesn’t particularly notice Christmas. He might allow himself to wear a Christmas jumper, but only if it’s a hideous one from Goodwill. The only people likely to receive a gift are Joan and perhaps his brother Mycroft, depending on the verse and state of their relationship! 

Joan: Her family do observe Christmas in a non-religious way, but they’re more likely to exchange small gifts before the day itself rather than have a big get together. Joan was often busy at Christmas anyway during her time as a surgeon, so she missed quite a few family dinners. Now she’s content to get a little tree for the Brownstone and a small gift for Sherlock, usually a pair of vibrant socks to add to his collection.

Alice: Growing up in a Victorian household, Alice has obviously been raised to follow Christianity, but...she doesn’t particularly know if she believes it or not. She’s probably more of an agnostic, but she attends church and carol services with her Mother more for the social aspect and to make her Mother happy. Especially since Alice refuses to do so many other things expected of her! Family Christmas is important because her Father always used to love it so much, and Alice doesn’t really have any friends. She gets the chance to see her older sister, too.

Aziraphale: Much like Camniel, Aziraphale acknowledges Christmas out of respect for God and Christ and because he’s supposed to. But what he enjoys the most is the food. So much amazing food these humans create for this time of year!! And gifting is reserved especially for Crowley, wrapped very prettily with ribbon and everything.

Eddie: Now that he has a symbiote living inside him, Christmas has become particularly food orientated, but he does celebrate with friends and family.

Peter: Being away from Earth, it can be difficult for Peter to know exactly when Christmas is. However, he always tries to keep track of the date and have a little celebration in memory of his Mom and all the Christmas memories he has of her. He did this even as a kid, when Yondu took him away, secretly noting the date and collecting lights which he laid out in one of the vents. This was the place he crept to when he wanted to cry, not wanting to do so in front of the Ravagers who insisted that he toughen up.

Ego : He’s not from Earth so he has no reason to care about Christmas.

Cal: Family Christmas, non religious. He spends the day with Emily and sometimes, if her husband is too busy, with Gillian too.

Malcolm: Non religious. He’ll usually pop round to his sisters house for dinner and bring gifts for his niece. Christmas passes by mostly unnoticed, though, as he’s often too busy to pay attention to it. He’ll probably get Sam, his PA, a little something too on the down low.

Poirot: As a faithful Catholic, Poirot observes Christmas in the religious sense and will attend midnight mass. He likes to spend the quietness that the holiday provides with a chance to relax and indulge, usually with some very fine Belgian chocolates. However, he does enjoy an invite to a family Christmas dinner from time to time!

Ray: He was raised in a religious family, though he obviously fell away from this as he moved away and pursued a career in science. Christmas is more a chance to eat, drink and be merry, spent with his fellow ghostbusters and a few calls to his relatives!

Holtzmann: A similar story to Ray, except that her immediate family disowned her so there’s no connection between them even at Christmas time. She spends it with the other ghostbusters and eats a ridiculous amount of cheese.

Elise: Not a religious woman and usually alone, Elise doesn’t observe Christmas enthusiastically. Before her husband died there was a lot more cheer in the house, but now it’s relatively quiet. She’ll curl up with Warren on the sofa and watch old Christmas movies. It’s not much different to a normal day, really.

[breannacasey]

Fic Masterpost

Since I just made it to 100 posted works on my ao3 since I created it in January 2014, I thought I’d make a masterpost on here of all of them to celebrate. Also, shameless self promo. I’ll also include some of my upcoming things, because they would make it 100 without counting the translations.

I’ll put them by fandom and in the order I started writing for each fandom. And I’ll put a  ⭐ next to my personal favourites. And 🌟 for my faves of faves.

Fandoms I’ve written for in alphabetical order: 911, 911 Lone Star, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Criminal Minds, Hannibal, Harry Potter, House md, Leverage, Limitless, Lucifer, New Amsterdam, Prodigal Son, Sherlock, Supergirl, Supernatural, White Collar

Total per rating: General (21), Teen and Up (72), Mature (7)

Total per warning: No Archive Warning Applies (85), Chose Not To Use Warnings (1), Major Character Death (10), Graphic Depictions of Violence (3), Rape/Non-Con (1)

Supernatural (10 works)

Let Me Go (series, 2 works, 1 354 words, Teen) Castiel/Dean Winchester: Dean Winchester struggles with suicidal thoughts.

A Crowley Valentine (one shot, 1 899 words, Gen) Castiel/Dean Winchester: It’s Valentine’s Day and Crowley is tired of Dean and Cas not admitting that they’re in love with each other so he decides to take action.

Never Stop Fighting (multi chapter, 9 chapters, 21 274 words, Teen, Graphic Depictions of Violence) Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lucifer/Original Female Character: The brothers go investigate a weird occurrence but they end up rescuing someone who might be able to help them fight Metatron and put heaven back in business. But could she have an agenda of her own?

Demon Love (one shot, 1 117 words, Teen) Castiel/Dean Winchester: Dean uses his demon powers not exactly in the deadly way Crowley had hoped.

There’ll Be Peace When You Are Done (one shot, 1 076 words, Gen, Major Character Death) Castiel/Dean Winchester: Dean dies and goes to heaven

A Different Kind Of Family (one shot, 1 455 words, Teen) Castiel/Dean Winchester: Sam and Dean go on a hunt for what turns out to be zombies.

A Good Combo (multi chapter, 5 chapters, 11 680 words, Teen, Pizza Place AU) Castiel/Dean Winchester and more: Castiel meets Dean at a weird time in his life. He just got out of a relationship and, with the death of one of his siblings, he isn’t sure if he is ready to jump into another one just yet.

Please Stay With Me (one shot, 906 words, Gen) Castiel/Dean Winchester: Set some time after 11X04 “Baby”, Castiel is still staying in the bunker, resting and getting better, but the brothers are barely ever there and Dean won’t even stay in the same room with him.

+ one crossover

Criminal Minds (3 works)

Prentiss’ Secret (one shot, 1 209 words, Teen) Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss: Prentiss left the BAU to work in London. Now she’s coming back to help them, but she has a secret.

Outside The Comfort Of Innocence (one shot, 1 354 words, Teen) Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss : As a kid, Emily Prentiss and her family move in next door to the Hotchners. Hotch and Prentiss grow up best friends, but a dark secret brings the real world into their childhood. ⭐

Everybody Loves Halloween (one shot, 991 words, Gen) Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau/Will LaMontagne: Emily comes for Halloween and the Hotchners go trick-or-treating with the LaMontagnes.

Sherlock (8 works)

Filling The Holes (series, 6 works, 8 960 words, Gen, Teen and Mature, Major Character Death) Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty: This is a series that goes on in the spaces between what we see on the show. It takes place after Reichenbach Fall. ⭐

John Watson’s Missing Wednesday (one shot, 854 words, Teen) Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty: At the wedding, Sherlock mentioned a time when John missed an entire wednesday without even noticing, what happened that day?

The Dead Are Busy Too (one shot, 618 words, Gen) Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty: Nearly two years after the events of Reichenbach Fall, Moriarty’s network is close to being a thing of the past.

Harry Potter (20 works)

1998, or the year everything changed (series, 18 works, 77 224 words, Gen, Teen and Mature, Major Character Death) Various ships: A series taking place the months following the Battle of Hogwarts. Each story focuses on a different character, but they all interlock with one another. (aka I didn’t like the epilogue so I made my own.) ⭐

Light in the Darkest of Times (one shot, 742 words, Teen) Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley: Feeling his constant support of Harry Potter in his magazine might cause the Death Eaters to try something, Xenophilius has Luna stay in Hogwarts for the holidays, thinking she’d be safe there. But things aren’t the same in the castle since Dumbledore’s death.

The Potion Master’s Daughter (multi chapter, 14 chapters, 67 001 words, Teen, Major Character Death) Luna Lovegood/Original Female Character and more: Severus Snape had a daughter several years ago. A year behind the famous Harry Potter, she’ll navigate her years at Hogwarts, punctuated with all kinds of events, like the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort’s return. 🌟

Hannibal (1 work)

Love and Dogs (one shot, 137 words, Gen) Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter: Hannibal wakes up at Will’s place

Limitless (10 works)

Screw, Marry, No Kill (one shot, 1 317 words, Teen) Brian Finch/Ike, Brian Finch/Mike: Brian thought having a one night stand with a coworker wasn’t a big deal, but not everyone had the same opinion.

Distracting Thoughts (one shot, 1 508, Teen) Brian Finch/Ike: Brian takes too much NZT and suddenly gains the ability to hear thoughts.

Keep You Safe (one shot, 832 words, Teen) Brian Finch/Ike: Set during 1x22 Finale: Part Two!! With Brian under side effects from the NZT, Ike worries for the man’s life.

Undercover! Again! (one shot, 2 601 words, Teen) Brian Finch/Ike: Brian and Ike are sent on an undercover mission, but things don’t exactly go as planned.

Rebecca Harris’s One Sick (Valentine’s) Day (one shot, 1 137 words, Gen) Rebecca Harris/Lucy Church: Rebecca was about to head off to work, but when a surprise visitor shows up at her door, she has another idea.

The Influence A Person Can Have (multi chapter, 3 chapters, 10 340 words, Teen) Brian Finch/Eli Whitford, Brian Finch/Ike: Sometimes, you meet one person and it changes your whole life. Everything else after that would’ve been different. For Brian, it all comes back to that moment he met Eli. It seems some people are simply meant to enter your life at the right moment, to stir you in the right direction. From figuring out who he is to falling in love for the first time to getting his life together and even meeting the love of his life, Brian’s life wouldn’t have been the same. 🌟

A Little Bit of Ice and Rube Goldberg (one shot, 1 875 words, Teen) Brian Finch/Ike: When freezing rain takes over the city, everyone goes home while it’s still safe outside. Brian insists on finishing what he’s working on, forcing both he and Ike to stay alone in the office to weather the storm.

Fulfilled, Not Finished (one shot, 4 861 words, Teen, Major Character Death) Brian Finch/Ike: When the squad finds a potential witness for their case, Ike volunteers himself and Brian to go check it out. But things take a dark turn. ⭐

Curve Ball Field (one shot, 7 196 words, Teen) Brian Finch: When Brian gets kidnapped for ransom, the CJC isn’t clear on how to handle the situation, or how to reassure his family. 🌟

+ one crossover

House (2 works)

Lean On Me (one shot, 1 414 words, Teen, Major Character Death) Gregory House/James Wilson: A short evolution of House and Wilson’s relationship, from their first meeting to their last. ⭐

Don’t You Know I Care? (one shot, 1 364 words, Teen) Gregoy House/James Wilson: House ended up in a hospital bed, again, but this time the familiar face of Wilson is missing from his bedside.

Supergirl (4 works)

My Hero (one shot, 650 words, Gen) Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor: When Lena gets pushed off her balcony, Supergirl is there to rescue her once again.

When It Starts (one shot, 1 908 words, Gen) Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor: Lena loves being Kara’s friend, but she wouldn’t say no to being more than that.

Hero in Need of Saving (one shot, 2 180 words, Teen) Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor: When a gunman shows up at Catco, Kara gets hurt and ends up stuck in the elevator with Lena and some kryptonite. ⭐

If I Could Find The Way Up (multi chapters, 3 chapters, 4 959 words, Teen) Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor: Lena Luthor is depressed and she doesn’t understand what she calls an obsession for Kara Danvers. Kara who keeps cutting their time together short, maybe on purpose. Lena is struggling to deal with all that pain she feels inside and trying to figure out what she feels around Kara might mean.

Lucifer (1 work)

Grow On Me (one shot, 4 051 words, Mature, College AU) Lucifer Morningstar, Marcus Pierce: Lucifer and Marcus are college roommates. When Lucifer learns Marcus doesn’t have plans for the holidays, he convinces him to come to a cabin with him and pretend to be his boyfriend to get his siblings off his back. ⭐

Prodigal Son (7 works)

Bright Ideas (one shot, 3 560 words, Teen, Graphic Depictions of Violence) Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel: Because Malcolm is Malcolm, he goes after a suspect on his own and gets taken. And then JT helps.

Unleashed (multi chapter, 8 chapters, 53 452 words, Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence) Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly, Gil Arroyo & Martin Whitly, Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly: Martin Whitly has escaped. He is finally free to get back at those who have hurt him. Everyone is anxious for him to be found and locked up again. And worried about what he might be planning to do. 🌟

On An Island (one shot, 1 704 words, Teen) Malcolm Bright: While on vacation, Malcolm finds he misses home and reflects on the past.

Shivers and Soup (one shot, 1 340 words, Gen) Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Dani Powell/Ainsley Whitly: Malcolm has a cold and is sent home

Hold You Close (one shot, 2 077 words, Teen) Dani Powell/Ainsley Whitly: Ainsley gets injured while covering the team’s latest case and Dani decides to check on her.

Only One Safe (one shot, 2 609 words, Teen) Dani Powell/Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly:  When blackouts spread across the city, Malcolm’s friends lock him up to make sure he won’t get himself into trouble. He worries about everyone else.

+ one crossover

911 Lone Star (12 works)

Stranded in Smoke (one shot, 2 339 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Owen Strand & TK Strand: During a fire, the floor collapses under TK’s feet, his radio stops working and he finds himself completely separated from the rest of the crew.

There For You (one shot, 1 235 words, Gen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: When Carlos doesn’t show up to work and cancels their plans, TK wants to make sure he’s okay.

Not Your Choice (one shot, 3 236 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: A man holds up TK’s therapist office and Carlos is the officer sent in to deal with it.

My Only Sunshine (one shot, 2 553 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: Carlos gets hurt while pursuing a suspect and, despite Michelle’s advice, he insists he’s fine and doesn’t need to go to the hospital. He is wrong.⭐

Late Night Bruises (one shot, 2 385 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: TK gets himself into trouble, but Carlos is there to help.

Classic Happiness (one shot, 1 021 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: TK invites Carlos over to the house for their first actual date.

Don’t Leave Me (one shot, 2 384 words, Teen, Major Character Death) Owen Strand & TK Strand, Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: TK had been the one unconscious, on the edge of death before, and he knew it had to hurt for those around him, but he never fully understood what it felt like until he was the one standing over someone he cared deeply about, begging for them to wake up.

A Long Day (one shot, 4 245 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Marjan Marwani & Paul Strickland, Marjan Marwani & TK Strand: Some days, nothing truly bad happens, but without anything good either, small things pile up and drag you down.

Pain Leaves Traces (multi chapter, 3 chapters, 5 958 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Owen Strand & TK Strand: TK is getting closer to Carlos, but there is still a part of himself he’d rather he didn’t know about.

Stay Behind, Make A Friend (one shot, 524 words, Gen) Carlos Reyes & Paul Strickland: Paul is alone at the firehouse when Carlos shows up, so they hang out.

Another Heart Robbery (one shot, 4 886 words, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand: When the building he’s robbing catches fire, Carlos thinks he’s the most unlucky man on Earth. Then comes a very handsome firefighter.  🌟

Off Balance (multi chapter, in progress, 8/10 chapters, 10 399 words and counting, Teen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Carlos Reyes & Michelle Blake: What Carlos thinks is a simple cut, turns out to be much worse. 🌟

Leverage (4 works)

The Past Job (one shot, 1 565 words, Mature, Rape/Non-Con) Damien Moreau/Eliot Spencer: Damien Moreau learns Eliot wants to leave his organisation. He decides to deal with it himself, and why not enjoy it while he’s at it. ⭐

The Protection Job (one shot, 1 785 words, Teen) Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer: Eliot falls off a roof during a job, leaving Parker and Hardison unprotected. ⭐

+ two crossovers

911 (15 works)

In My Heart (one shot, 2 410 words, Teen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: While on a call, Buck gets exposed to a toxic substance and it makes Eddie put things into perspective.

Worry, Worry, Worry (one shot, 3 238 words, Teen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: No matter how many times Buck gets told that he will be safe, when Eddie accepts to be serial killer bait, Buck worries about him. ⭐

Who’s First? (one shot, 1 322 words, Gen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Howie Han & Hen Wilson: Hen and Chimney bet on who, between Buck and Eddie, will be the one to make the first move.

A Gay Old Time at the Mini Golf (one shot, 2 004 words, Teen) Hen Wilson/Karen Wilson, Evan Buckley & Hen Wilson & Karen Wilson & Michael Grant: When Buck gets woken up by the sounds of people in his apartment, he doesn’t expect the day to turn out so fun.

When Things Are Bad, Better To Laugh It Off (one shot, 1 525 words, Teen) Howie Han & Tommy Kinard, Howie Han & Hen Wilson: The story of how Howie Han became Chimney.

His First Choice (one shot, 1 209 words, Teen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: Buck feels lonely, like everyone around him has a family, someone who cares about them more than anything, but he doesn’t. Turns out he is wrong. ⭐ 

Always Come By (one shot, 1 196 words, Gen) Evan Buckley & Bobby Nash: Bobby’s afternoon alone is cut short when a sad Buck shows up at his doorstep. ⭐ 

Beautifully Cold (one shot, 1 463 words, Gen) Bobby Nash & Grant Family, Athena Grant/Bobby Nash: The Grant-Nash family goes on a trip to Minnesota in the middle of winter.

Give Her The Comfort She Needs (multi chapter, 2 chapters, 2 912 words, Teen) Evan Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: Eddie, Buck and Christopher are having a morning like many others when Maddie shows up to take her brother to a funeral he doesn’t seem keen on attending.

Let Me Take Care Of You (one shot, 596 words, Gen) Maddie Buckley/Howie Han: Maddie is sick and Chimney takes care of her.

Loving Exasperation (one shot, 571 words, Gen) Evan Buckley & Maddie Buckley: Maddie comes home for Thanksgiving during her first semester of college. ⭐

At Least We Have Each Other (one shot, 666 words, Teen, Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings) Howie Han & Karen Wilson: Something happened to Hen during a call and Chimney is the one to deliver the news to Karen.

Wait Happy (one shot, 650 words, Gen) Maddie Buckley/Howie Han: After they learn about it themselves, Chimney and Maddie have to wait to tell the others about the pregnancy.

Gratefully Together (one shot, 632 words, Gen) May Grant & Michael Grant: Michael helps May move into her dorm room.

Barbie Boy (one shot, 618 words, Mature) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: Buck’s karaoke performance has quite the effect on Eddie

Crossovers

Supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer:

Nobody Picked The Family Business (multi chapter, 6 chapters, 14 796 words, Teen) Dawn Summers/Sam Winchester, Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg, Spike/Buffy Summers, Castiel/Dean Winchester: When Sam doesn’t get a scholarship to Stanford, John lets him go to UC Sunnydale, hoping all the stuff going on there will convince him to keep hunting.⭐

White Collar, Leverage and Limitless:

The Grey Area Job (multi chapter, 4 chapters, 15 992 words, Teen) Neal Caffrey/Eliot Spencer, Sophie Devereaux/Nate Ford, Alec Hardison/Parker, Brian Finch/Ike: When he and Peter encounter a particularly complicated case, Neal calls his friend, Sophie Devereaux, for help.

White Collar and Leverage:

The Informant Job (one shot, 2 675 words, Teen) Neal Caffrey/Eliot Spencer: While searching a warehouse, Eliot finds himself in a situation he wasn’t expecting.

Prodigal Son and New Amsterdam:

Stay Right Here (one shot, 5 129 words, Teen) Malcolm Bright, Iggy Frome: After being kidnapped, Malcolm ends up at New Amsterdam to get treated for his injuries.⭐

Traductions

Du Poison (vf de Poison, Supernatural)

Je Tiens à Toi (vf de Don’t You Know I Care?, House)

Quelqu’un Sur Qui Compter (vf de Lean On Me, House)

Une Vie que Personne ne Choisit (vf de Nobody Picked The Family Business, Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Soon

Henren Week: Everything I Need (one shot, 534 words, Gen) Hen Wilson/Karen Wilson: Hen and Karen enjoy a quiet day off together. ⭐ 

Buddie Week: Good Things Don’t Come Easy (one shot, 1 272 words, Teen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: Eddie couldn’t fall for someone like Evan Buckley, but the heart hardly ever listens to logic. ⭐

Buddie Week: How To Handle Friendship With Smart Idiots (one shot, 836 words, Teen) Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz: Carla is tired of watching Buck and Eddie being oblivious about their feelings for each other, so she decides to get involved.

Tarlos Week: The Best Farmer’s Market Find (one shot, 810 words, Gen) Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Carlos Reyes & Owen Strand: TK wakes up to the sounds of his dad making breakfast, not alone. ⭐

Owen Strand Week: Snow Day in Austin (one shot, 1 060 words, Gen) Owen Strand & TK Strand: Owen has been feeling down and missing the New York winter, but he has an amazing son.

Evan Buckley Week: Under The Stars (one shot, 532 words, Gen) Evan Buckley & Christopher Diaz: Buck and Christopher go camping. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #292

“dear god, let’s make this fucking clear: dear god, there’s nothing that i fear”

What internet browser do you use? Chrome. What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc) Mom just grabs the Great Value jugs. Do you have a job? No. Are you full-time or part-time? N/A Are you watching TV right now? No. Or are you listening to music? Yeah, "Mr. Crowley" by Ozzy. Such a great song. Would you go to jail for 3 years for $1,000,000? No. I would NOT survive in jail. When's your birthday? February 5th. I cannot fucking believe I'm almost 25. Thoughts on kids? Too impressionable for me. Even with my niece and nephew, I feel like every single word I say just like... stamps into their brains, and what if I say something that negatively affects them? I feel like it's my responsibility as an aunt to be a fountain of wisdom when I'm definitely not. I just get nervous around kids. Worst punishment you've ever received by your parents? I wouldn't call it a "punishment," but when I skinned the everliving fuck out of my knees and Mom was patching me up while I was just sobbing away, my dad literally roared "SHUT UP!" from my parents' bedroom, and it's stuck with me forever. Honestly, I think it may be a root in my extreme fear of men yelling. Worst punishment from Mom, probably this time where she smacked the shit outta my arm as a kid and left a clear handprint for a while. Are you the type who is completely against abortion? Why? No, I am firmly pro-choice, despite being pro-life most of my life. I don't feel like writing a moral essay, but basically, I absolutely cannot agree with forcing a woman to carry a human they don't want for whatever reason for nine fucking months, endure one of the most traumatically painful things known to man, and then properly and adequately care for that child. That is such a huge fucking responsibility that should be forced upon *nobody*. "But adoption!" Yeah, go tell that to the thousands of children waiting on you. This is leaning on exactly what I said I wouldn't do, so moving along. Have you ever read a book that actually changed your outlook on life? "I’ve read some books that were phenomenal, but I wouldn’t necessarily go so far as to say that they 'changed my outlook on life'." <<<< This was Johnny Got His Gun for me. Does your favorite flower hold any meaning to you? No. What would you do if your favorite animal became endangered? I would fucking freak. Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No, but I honestly do want at least one, primarily with a deep black and then some nice grays and neutral colors. Do you own a tripod for your camera? Yes. Are your nails always painted? Quite the opposite. What's one thing you've had a toxic reaction to? A breakup. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? I honestly don't really decorate because I just don't have the motivation, but Halloween is the best. Were you popular in school? Nope. Are there any foods that often give you heartburn or indigestion? BANANAS, dark sodas (like Coke or Dr. Pepper), peanut butter can... It's hard for me to tell much now because I have chronic heartburn and am medicated for it. Works great, so I don't experience this much. Is there something you intend to buy in the near future? Yes. Once my tattoo is done (I'm setting the appointment the next time we leave the house, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), what I have left is going towards Venus' new terrarium. She really needs a 40 gallon. Is anyone in your family artistically talented? What about musically? I was the art kid, and family still insist I should be an artist. What cute behaviors or characteristics does/do your pet(s) have? Omg, Roman has so many. He nuzzles me all the time, will collapse into my hand to pet him, he insists on being the little spoon at bedtime (no, really), he literally tries to groom me with his teeth, licks my face... He is just a doll. My little buddy for sure. Now onto Venus. She loves to chill next to me in bed or find a cozy place under the covers, and omgggg does she love to slither around the bed doing the periscope thing. So curious. What's the screensaver on your computer? I don't have one. What’s the sexiest thing about a guy? I am WEAK for nice shoulderblades/muscular shoulders ok. What’s the sexiest thing about a girl? I am an ass bitch and I will not hesitate to admit it ayyyyyeeeee. Who were you with at midnight on January 1, 2021? Nobody. Who was the last person to send you a message on social media? My sister Misty. She's planning to surprise Mom (her stepmom, anyway) by showing up in a few weeks with her fiance and all her kids she's never met but desperately wants to. My mom is the only "real mom" she's ever had, and she just feels so bad that she has a by now teenage daughter (among three other younger ones) that has never met her "grandmother." It's just an expensive and long trip, but Misty's finally called it enough and is just driving down here with everyone. Mom is going to fucking sob. ^ What qualities does this person have, that you appreciate? Nice timing for this, since her fiercely anti-mask bullshit is all I can focus on about her lately... but there are good things about her. She truly is a very loving, passionate woman that, just like me, feels deeply and expresses it. What was the last thing that caused you to scowl, or frown? Does grimacing count from a sudden bodily pain? Have you smiled at any point during the last hour? Yeah. I'm watching the VOD of Arin Hanson playing Kingdom Hearts 2 for charity, and he went on a total fucking laughing fit. His laugh is so precious, so I just couldn't stop grinning. What was the last thing you consulted Google for? Ensuring "grimace" was the right word for my former expression, even though I was pretty positive it was correct... I don't know if anyone's noticed, but my English skills are degrading, particularly in spelling. It's concerning me. I was an English whiz my whole life up to now. My only guess is it's related to how godawful my memory is also declining. So, did anyone send you a "Happy New Year" message when midnight hit? No. When was the last time you were on a carousel? Probably not since I was a teenager being goofy with Jason or somebody. What is the closest you have ever been to an elephant? I have a picture on my dA of a beautiful elephant walking RIGHT by its fence at the zoo. It was pretty amazing, considering just how incredibly immense their enclosure is. Have you ever played Halo? No, it's not my kinda game. Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine? Oh, I'm positive I've read sections while in waiting rooms of various places. When was the last time you had a pillow fight? I have no idea. Realistically it was probably w/ Jason since that sounds like some cute playfighting thing we'd do, but I don't remember a particular instance. Name somebody who you think deserves more respect: "Retail works. The horror stories my mom has on the daily is absolutely ridiculous. People can be so incredibly rude." <<<< I absolutely agree with this; what friends and strangers alike rant about is just depressing. Nobody, especially those working through a goddamn pandemic that's killing thousands, deserves the disrespect that comes their way. Have some goddamn decency and know half the issues you bring up to retail workers isn't even their damn fault. Ohhhh, I could rant about this. In your own words, define what the word sexy means. So you mean like, what I think is considered sexy, not just the general definition? If that's the case, uhhh. Self-confidence (but absolutely not arrogance) is very attractive to me as a bitch who lacks it entirely, as well as good manners, being outgoing, and just... charm. I don't quite know how to describe that "charm" other than I'm really drawn to people who are unique and happy with it and just seem to have an aura about them that feels good to be in. What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live? I'm going to look at this question as if you're asking about my state and not general location because 1.) there ain't shit here and 2.) I'd prefer to keep relatively where I live quiet on the Internet. Looked it up and apparently NC's biggest tourist bait is the Biltmore Estate. Never been there myself, but it'd be pretty dope. Without looking - do you know what brand your underwear is? I'm in my own home and pjs, who the fuck wears underwear with that criteria lmao. Are you any good at volleyball? NOOOOOOOOO. I went to a volleyball camp thing once when I was younger and that shit hurts the hell outta your hands. I didn't stay long. Have you ever had a water balloon fight? Why of course. Do you think some babies are ugly? Quite honestly, probably most, especially newborns. Don’t you miss Chuck E. Cheese? I do; going there was one of the most exciting possible things to me as a kiddo. Do you think Fall Out Boy is gonna be a classic band, like Queen or AC/DC? Possibly. I mean they sure are pretty successful and well-known. Do you love stuff-crusted pizza? Eh, it's not my preference, but I'll eat it. Do you apply lotion after you bathe? No, but I really should, given how dry my skin is. What’s your favorite color? Pastel pink. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? I'd like to not think about this. Has a YouTube video of yours ever gotten over 10,000 views? Lol definitely not. I think at least one on my older channel hit 1k somehow???? It was a birthday gift I made for someone. Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? lol I already have one there. At some point I'm getting it covered, though. Do you like Robert Frost poems? I do! Do you go to church every Sunday? I never do. Have you ever been in a relationship on-and-off for more than a year? No, I don't play that game. You want me or you don't, so I'm not wasting my time on your uncertainty or just our lack of stability for whatever reason. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Absolutely writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? ?????????????????? i don't?????????????? care???????????????? they're not my tits??????????????? What is the last thing you tried on in a store? I don't know. I avoid trying shit on like the plague. And then it ends up being too big/small. I wonder why. Is sleeping naked more comfortable than in clothes? I've only ever fallen asleep naked once, and accidentally at that, so I really don't remember how I felt about it? Consciously though, I would feel very, very vulnerable so don't have plans to when I have my own place. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? HAHAHA Y'AAAAAALLLLLLL THIS WAS DEADASS THE ONLY LUCID DREAM I'VE EVER HAD LMAOOOOO Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better? My short-term memory is absolutely atrocious, like to the point it seriously affects my ability to get shit done. You can give me something that needs to be done and I will forget in a heartbeat. Now, my long-term memory is astonishing. I can remember many things from my childhood in incredible detail. Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before? Did you need to have surgery for it? I've had a concussion or two. I can't remember which. I didn't need surgery. Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve? Yeah: chronic depression, crippling social anxiety, generalized anxiety, avoidant personality disorder (AvPD), obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, bipolar II, and I think that's it. My head's a mess and a half. What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut? About to the small of my back; how it is now, which is pretty much shaved on the left and fades to near my chin on the right. I actually got it cut last month; we've gone to a family friend for years whose shop is just an extra building by her house and very rarely has more than two clients in it. We had masks on, of course. At what age did you start getting gray hairs, if you happen to have any? I don't have any. Somehow, given my stress level at all times, haha. What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it? It's too short to style. I don't use any products in it but obviously shampoo. Who was the last person to truly get on your nerves? What do you think caused you to feel that way? Probably my mom. I think she was in a rotten mood for one reason or another and just being snappy and generally rude. Do you recycle? Is this through choice or do you live somewhere where it’s compulsory? We do; it's by choice, and it'd be immensely ignorant not to where we live considering it literally gets picked up with the other garbage. Do you prefer plain, carbonated, or flavored water? Do you think you drink enough water throughout the day? I've never tried carbonated water, and flavored water rarely works for me due to artificial sweeteners giving me beastly headaches. So I'll just take really cold, filtered water. Have you ever needed to call the police, ambulance, or fire department? I had to call the ambulance for my mom right before her cancer was discovered because she was literally immobile and in ungodly pain. When was the last time you visited the library? What was the purpose of your visit? At my old college, as the newspaper photographer, I took some artsy pics up there. I will probably forever worry that leaving school resulted in the biggest career opportunity slipping through my fingers through that newspaper. Do you see a lot of wild animals where you live? Are any of them dangerous? I guess about the normal amount you'd see in the country. Some dangerous animals live here, sure, that's probably everywhere, but you very rarely see any. Aside from when you were born, have you ever had to stay the night in the hospital? For suicidal thoughts and one attempt, yes. Have you ever experienced a panic attack? Ahhhh, do I know those well. Thankfully, it's been a long time since I had an all-out panic attack. Would you ever want to go into the medical profession? Was your answer different pre-COVID? Nope. Well, besides being a vet, which I haven't wanted to be since I was a kid. Where you live, are people paying attention to whatever restrictions are in place to help control COVID? Many? No. Because it's apparently a fuckin hoax or not as bad as the government wants us to think. Fucking cretins. Do you get a real or artificial Christmas tree? Artificial. Real ones aren't worth the money nor mess. What’s your favourite type/flavor of popcorn? Caramel corn. Do you drink oat milk? No, but I'm interested in at least trying it. The dairy industry is absolutely repulsive if you look into it, and I'd love to do what I can to take as little part in it as possible... even though I am a dairy fiend. I seriously wish I could go vegan, I am just WAY too picky for it. Do you love thrifting? Oh fuck yes. I've been very few times in my life, but I'mm all about it. Do you consider using only lowercase letters your aesthetic? I do find it visually appealing; I like the flow of similar letter height. I never do it for "serious" things, but on places where it's "for the aesthetic," it's likely that's how I'll write something. Do you say “mood?” Way too much lmao. Do you own fairy lights? No, though I would like them if it wouldn't look stupid in my room. Do you own glass straws because the metal ones kind of gross you out because you can’t tell if they are clean or not? ... I didn't know glass straws were a thing. I have a handful of metal ones though, but I always forget I have one in my purse when I go out... Have you made a TikTok? No. Do you own airpods? No. Are you afraid of Mercury in retrograde? I don't believe in a planet's position or whatever having any effect on people. Do you make life choices based on astrology? Definitely not, considering I don't believe in it to begin with. How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? Maybe like, five? Number of jeans in your closet: Zero. What accent do you have? Not really any, but sometimes I sound kinda southern with specific words. Do you have a big butt? Yo I got a Hank Hill ass, so no. Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? In my past relationships, yes, I assigned our anniversary to memory. I don't really... know why, like it doesn't really matter how long you've been together, I just do. Have you graduated? From HS, yes. I dropped out of college three times lmao. Rihanna or Lady GaGa? Ohhh, not sure. Maybe GaGa, but both ladies have songs I love. "Disturbia" doess beat all of her songs, tho. The fuckin BEAT. Do you use fake eyelashes? Never tried 'em. Which was the last book that really captivated you? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. What makeup brands do you use? I'm not loyal to any, really. I would be if I could afford expensive shit, but yeah, that ain't my life.

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Epilogue: What the Future Holds

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Five years later...

A/N: Here we are, folks. This is the end. I would like to thank everyone who helped me get this story to where it is. From my wonderful editors to my faithful readers — I appreciate every single one of you amazing people. Thank you so much! For reading, commenting, helping me out, talking to me, believing in me, encouraging me to continue even when it was hard. I hope the ending is satisfying enough, and that we will hang out soon when I work on my other projects. Best of regards, Mariana. ♥

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

There was nothing better than a wedding to get the old gang back together.

It had been a while since you'd seen everyone all at once.

Five long years — ever since you'd graduated high school.

There were times when it felt as if it had happened yesterday. As if you'd just said goodbye to your friends before everyone went their own way, their own direction, colleges and jobs calling.

Time sure liked to fly.

You made sure to stay in contact with everyone. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram; all tools you readily used. They were your friends. Some distance couldn't change that.

The seven of you had your own Facebook chat group that was filled to the brim with messages. Memes were shared. Laughs exchanged — in emoji form, but laughs nonetheless. News, good and bad, were told. Advices asked for and given.

It almost felt like old times.

Almost.

But not quite.

The truth was, despite how hard you tried to maintain your friendship, things changed.

Life happened.

Sam had gone to Stanford on full scholarship, dreaming big of contributing to the world, helping save it. With the way things were going, you were confident he would do it. If anyone could help make the world a better place, it was him.

In his free time, he liked to give speeches on healthy lifestyles, which, for some bizarre reason, consisted of consuming a lot of kale.

A kale smoothie had become a signature of his, the cup seemingly glued to his hand.

He'd become a hit on the internet for it. A meme everyone in your friend group shared and poked fun at. Light-heartedly, of course.

Dean was convinced Sam was doing it to embarrass him.

Sam, in turn, had told him a healthier diet would do him good.

Dean wasn't interested, and, a few hours later, had posted a picture of himself stuffing a big, greasy hamburger into his mouth with the caption #DownWithKale.

Sam was not amused.

Crowley had changed his name as soon as he'd turned eighteen. Crowley had officially become his name, Fergus long forgotten, thrown in the trash where he felt it belonged.

His family still called him Fergus.

Well, Rowena and his mother did. Gavin, the good boy that he was, had always referred to him as Crowley, which was why he was Crowley's favorite family member (his only family member, if he had any say in it).

He'd gone into studying business, rich businessman future planned out to the smallest details. He'd intended to work his way to the top; it would take a while, but he was confident hard work, combined with his cunning, ambitious nature, would earn him the throne.

Maybe, he'd mused, he could eventually open his own company. Be his own boss. Set his own terms.

May he have the best of luck.

Castiel had gone into teaching. A surprising choice of career, especially considering his awkward nature, but it was what he wanted to do. Helping kids. Guiding them by his own example.

He certainly had the drive for it.

Who knows? Maybe kids would like him. Maybe they would like his awkwardness.

Meg, not really the scholarly type, had gone to community college and had found herself working in a supermarket.

She hated her job, and she hated the customers even more. The chat was frequently filled with her rants about one thing or another that had occurred at work that particular day.

Funny stuff, usually.

Especially when she snapped at customers and got reprimanded for it, but kept doing it anyway because her boss knew all too well he couldn't afford to lose her as an employee.

Instead of a college, Dean had gone into trades. He'd opened his own little mechanic shop back in Lawrence. It was hard work, far from ideal, paid just enough to cover the costs of living, but he enjoyed it. He was happy.

That was all that mattered.

Rowena had worked hard on her intensive at Joffrey. It was a difficult three months; she was always practicing, always dancing, on her feet from dawn to dusk. You'd barely gotten to talk, aside from the weekends, which you'd spent in front of your phones or laptops, Skype open, smiles wide as you talked about each week's events.

You'd missed her so much.

Too much.

But, as with all things, the intensive had eventually ended and you'd gotten to have her home for a week — a whole week! — before college officially started.

The two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other that entire time.

It wasn't enough — seven measly days was far from enough — but it was something.

After three months of drought, it was the welcome, desperately awaited rain.

Parting for college was even more difficult. You'd each gone your own way, different as you were, each pursuing your own dream.

It was a struggle, but, like the intensive, you'd made it work.

You'd kept in contact. Skyped at every available moment. Traveled to one another's schools when the opportunity arose. Made sure to spend the holidays (the most important ones) together.

And, just like that, years had gone by, and soon enough school was behind you and you were together once again.

The decision to move in together was a mutual one. It was more of an understanding, really. With school behind you, jobs calling, and the relationship stronger than ever even all these years later, it just made sense to take it a step further.

Why wouldn't you live together?

You did everything else together, so you might as well, to quote Crowley every time he walked in on you making out, get a room.

So you did.

You rented an apartment in Manhattan. A small one that, despite its size, was warm and pleasant and felt just like home.

Your and Rowena's home.

Sometimes it felt like a dream.

As if, every moment now, you would wake up and realize the last five years of your life were nothing but a fantasy, a product of your sleeping mind.

Then you would kiss Rowena's cheek, take a sip of tea from her mug just to tease her (her glares and pouts were adorable), and smile, and the reality — your reality, one you'd worked hard to accomplish, your so wished for future — would settle in and all the silly thoughts would go away as if they'd never existed.

You'd made it.

The future you'd dreamed of, that you and Rowena had planned for so thoroughly, had come to be.

It wasn't perfect, but it was yours.

Rowena had found work at Broadway. She was a dancer, and an excellent one; with Joffrey on her resume, the job was hers the moment she'd stepped into the audition room.

You were having difficulty with finding employment yourself, but, luckily, her pay was enough to cover the living costs of the two of you.

You felt bad; the last thing you wanted was to look as if you were taking advantage. But she'd made it clear she didn't mind. You were together. A family, for no other word could describe what you had, what you'd built and grew together. What was hers was yours, and vice versa.

Being a housewife wasn't your ideal profession, if one could call it that, but it wasn't bad.

It was, dare you say it, fun.

You found yourself enjoying awaiting Rowena's return after a long, exhausting day on her feet — literally — with a loving hug, a peck on the lips, and a warm meal on the table — a delivery from a restaurant or a warmed up can, for cooking was a skill you were still far from perfecting.

You were happy.

And so was she.

The two of you made it work.

Lately, Rowena had been considering joining the Royal Ballet. It was a big step, one that required careful thinking and plenty of discussions.

Moving to another city was one thing.

Moving to another country, half across the world, on the other hand…

She'd made it clear she wasn't going to make the decision without you. This concerned you, too; if you wanted to stay in New York, you would stay.

Both of you.

She just wanted you to think about it, weigh in cons and pros.

And you did.

You'd been thinking about it for weeks.

Bless her heart, Rowena was patient. She didn't push you, or rush you, or try to guilt you. She left you to your own pace.

You were immensely grateful for it.

By the time the wedding came, you were pretty sure you'd made up your mind.

In a day or two — hell, maybe even today, after the ceremony — you would tell her.

It was a small wedding, closest family and friends only. Sam was never one for parties. He and Eileen had rented a small cottage with a beautiful yard they'd decorated themselves. Quite cheap, as far as American weddings went, but lovely.

This was a wedding for love, not luxury.

When Sam had announced he was engaged in the group chat a year ago, you weren't surprised. You'd always had a feeling he would go for it first. While Dean was a one night stand kind of guy, Sam was more the settle down type. The kind of guy who kicked ass at work during the day and then cuddled with his wife and kids at night. The picture of a family man.

And, god, would he be a good one!

He was sweet and caring, a wonderful friend, and, no doubt, an even more wonderful boyfriend. Husband material, if you ever knew one.

Eileen was equally sweet, equally amazing. A lovely girl who treated everyone like a friend and loved Sam with all her heart.

They were perfect for each other.

Seeing your gang together after five years, in person, in full color, was an experience that was almost supernatural. There was screaming and squealing and hugging and teasing. You'd forgotten how noisy you were all together.

Your mind flashed back to high school, to afternoons at Biggerson's, sipping at your smoothies and coffees and stealing fries off each other's plates.

Those were the days.

There wasn't much difference to either of you. You were older, but other than that, you still looked the same. You teased each other as you'd used to, joked as if you were still that bunch of high schoolers who had the whole world under their feet.

There were changes, obviously. Inevitably. Some subtle, others not so much.

Sam's hair was an inch or so shorter, or so it looked in the pictures (he was still getting ready, having not yet shown himself to the guests).

You followed his example, having never been one for big change. Shorter hair was shorter hair, even if only a bit.

Dean bore — proudly — a few scars. Work injuries, though you were willing to bet he'd earned a couple in the bar fights he liked to brag about.

"You should see the other guy," he always said.

You never had any particular desire to.

Crowley had a small beard, and wore it well; it made him look older, more mature.

Emphasis on look, for he and Rowena still bickered like brats.

Gavin, the actual child of the family, was more mature than the two of them.

Rowena wore less sparkly clothes (she now saved those for special occasions). Instead, she preferred to wear dress pants and blouses that you found strangely arousing.

Sometimes you got her to role-play in them. She made one delicious businesswoman.

Castiel dressed the same, trench coat over everything (even wore the damn thing to the wedding), looked the same, acted the same, however, his change was big.

It tied right into Meg's for she was seven months pregnant, and her stomach was appropriately swollen to showcase it.

She'd gained a bit of weight and dyed her hair blonde, but her character remained the same.

She was still that same foul-mouthed, opinionated firecracker of a girl.

And you loved her for it.

"You look great!" you told her first thing you saw her. Then you threw an arm around her, your other one wrapping around Castiel, and said, "I couldn't wait to congratulate you guys in person! I'm so happy for you!"

You were.

Happy from the bottom of your heart.

Ecstatic.

Proud.

The two of them had done well for themselves. Like your and Rowena's, their life wasn't perfect, but they made it work. They lived it to the fullest.

They were happy.

In love.

Excited for the baby, a joyous little accident.

You weren't the parenting type, (neither was Rowena), however, while raising a family wasn't your particular dream, you couldn't have been more excited for them.

This was what they wanted.

What kind of a friend would you be if you judged?

Families came in all shapes and sizes.

As did dreams. Ambitions. Aspirations.

Supporting them, wishing them well in any and every form — that was the true meaning of friendship.

Meg and Castiel would make amazing parents.

Weird and eccentric, but still amazing.

That baby would be one happy, very loved kid. Surrounded by a large family of aunts and uncles, all loving, caring, eager to spoil them.

Blood-related and not.

As far as Meg and Castiel were concerned, your group was family.

It was definitely better than some actual family members.

Like Castiel's father, good old Principal Shurley, who'd, a couple years ago, gotten himself into quite a bit of trouble for embezzlement.

The news didn't quite shock you as it should have. There was always something about him.

Lucifer never stopped getting in trouble. Only, once he was out of school, his daddy couldn't sweet talk his way out of it (not that he hadn't tried; Castiel talked quite a bit about Chuck's restless attempts, and failures, to save him) and thus the darling little angel had gotten himself quite a record.

Assault.

Harassment.

Battery.

You name it, he'd done it.

It turned out that the police didn't give a damn about what daddy Shurley had to say about his son's character.

They surely gave even less of a damn now that he was serving his sentence for embezzlement.

Lucifer was currently with him, doing a two year stint for… something.

It was hard to keep track when it came to him.

The current Lawrence Hugh's principal was Amara Shurley, Chuck's sister, because of course she was.

Nepotism for the win!

Though, from everything you'd heard, she was, so far, doing a great job. Far better than her brother ever did.

Castiel had cut all ties with his father and brother. He'd considered doing so earlier, but now that he was expecting a child, the decision came with ease.

He didn't want his child around criminals. Didn't want them to set the wrong example.

That alone told you he was going to be a great father.

The ceremony, modest as it was, was beautiful. Eileen, in her snow-white dress, looked like a princess. No — a queen, the veil a doubling as a crown. Sam was equally handsome, clad in a black suit that made him look somewhat older, more mature, a fairy tale prince come to life.

They said their vows with so much love on their faces you were one hundred percent certain they would make do on them to the letter.

Til death did them part.

There were smiles. Tears. So much joy it was overwhelming.

Meg was the lucky one who caught the bouquet, only to promptly, in a deadpan tone, say, "No," and shove it in Crowley's hands.

Crowley shoved it in Dean's, who shoved it back to him and started what was basically a struggle over the damn thing.

Not marriage material, your group.

Sam was the black sheep.

Laughter was exchanged.

Food — delicious! — eaten.

Drinks downed and refilled.

Dances had.

Aside from the newlyweds, Rowena had proven herself to be quite an attraction with her precise, professional moves. Everyone wanted to be her partner.

Not a dancer yourself, you had no problem with it.

However, after what had to be the tenth request, you considered charging people to dance with your girlfriend.

It was only fair.

The celebration extended long into the night. There was enough alcohol to keep everyone going.

The place, located in the middle of nowhere, was perfect for a party. No neighbors to complain about the noise. No busybodies sticking their nose in. Just a group of people having the fun of their lives, drunk out of their minds.

By the time you and Rowena arrived to your hotel, you were exhausted. There was more alcohol than blood in your veins. Your feet were killing you. Your throat ached from singing and shouting.

You hadn't even removed your clothes — shaking off your shoes, you plopped on the bed, curled up against each other, and drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, Rowena was looking at you with a smile on her face. Your head pounding as if someone were whacking it with a hammer, eyes stinging, it took a bit of willpower to pull on one of your own.

"Were you watching me sleep?" Your voice was raspy, broken. You cleared your throat. Sucked in a breath.

God.

Singing had been a mistake.

Her smile melted into a smirk. She shrugged, nonchalant. Denying not a single thing. "I was just thinking."

"Should I be worried?" you teased.

"I'd hope not."

Her face grew serious.

Uh oh.

Now you definitely were worried.

Morning — a hungover one at that — was the worst possible time for serious conversations.

It wasn't a surprise, though.

Rowena prided herself in her unpredictability.

"What is it?" you asked, light draining from your face. Preparing for news that, at best, would be unpleasant, and, at worst, absolutely horrible.

"Sam and Eileen seem happy."

They did.

They were happy.

You nodded.

Rowena sighed, "Do you think we're happy?"

What was she trying to say? Heart racing, lump forming in your throat, you uttered a tad too defensively, "Do you think we're not?"

"Of course not!"

She seemed genuine, so there was that.

You allowed yourself a moment of relief. "Me, neither. I'm happy."

"As am I."

Good.

That was good.

You were on the same level.

She was silent for a few moments. Thought her words through. "I was just wondering if we should… take it a step further."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

You had an inkling, but you wanted to hear it from her.

You wanted her to confirm it.

Rowena swallowed. "Get married."

It was as if all air had vanished from your lungs. Your throat was dry. Heart, once again, running a marathon. Hands shaking as if you were cold.

You weren't — you couldn't be — for as soon as the words left her mouth, a wave of heat flooded you, filled you up from head to toe.

Marriage wasn't on your list of priorities.

Wasn't on any of your lists, as a matter of fact.

You and Rowena loved each other — you didn't need a piece of paper to prove it.

But…

It would be a lie if you said you hadn't considered it once or twice.

What would it be like to call yourself her wife? To wear her ring; a promise in the form of shimmery gold?

"Or maybe just get engaged," she said after a few moments of uncomfortable, deafening silence. "Wear the rings."

You looked at her, eyes wide. Mouth trembling.

She gulped. Uncertain. Frightened. Nervous to the bone. "We don't have to. I was just… thinking out loud." She pulled on another smile — a fake on this time, hurt flickering over her face no matter how hard she tried to mask it. "Forget I said anything."

"No." You reached for her hand, twined your fingers with hers in a tight knot. "We could try."

She was stunned. "Really?"

"I don't see why not."

What was the worst that could happen?

You were already together. Already happy and crazy in love.

"We could try the engagement thing, see if it works," you said.

You had nothing to lose.

At this point, you could only gain.

Rowena beamed. A chuckle escaped her; lovely, happy. Adorable. "Okay!"

It was a perfect arrangement.

"I will get you a ring," she added. "Make it official."

"How about we both get rings?" you said. This was kind of a mutual proposal, after all. And also… "There's nice jewelry shops in the UK, right?"

It was her turn to be confused. "What?"

Your decision.

The one you'd been planning to relay to her.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

"We don't have to get engaged in USA, right?" you said. "Think about it. You, a Royal Ballerina. Me, a not-so-royal couch potato. That's a romance movie right there!"

Rowena gasped. Swallowed. Breathed in and out in attempts to contain her excitement. "You want to move to Britain?"

"That's what I'm saying, aren't I?" You grinned. Squeezed her hand. "I've been meaning to tell you. I figured now's the perfect time."

"Y/N, I…" She brought your linked hands to her mouth, kissed your knuckles. "Thank you! I just… Thank you, darling!"

You locked your lips with hers. Deepened the kiss, melted into it. Thought of millions of more you would share.

The future was yours.

All you had to do was seize it. Take it. Dig your claws in and never let go.

"Don't you forget me when you become a world-famous ballerina," you teased.

"Och, darling," she purred, "don't you know by now you're quite unforgettable?"

You chuckled. "Just making sure."

She pecked you on the mouth. "I love you."

"Me, too."

You'd loved her for five years.

You'd loved her when she was bad, and even more when she became good.

You'd loved her when she was away, and you'd loved her when she was here.

You'd loved her in your apartment.

You'd loved her in the United States.

And you would love her in the United Kingdom.

You loved her now, and you would love her in the future.

Forever.

And ever.

Til death did you part.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

[writingfromkitchenator]

Scotch and Snow

Christmas fic

Masterlist

Based on an imagine found here by @thefandomimagine

Crowley x Australian OC (Gender Neutral)

Words: 1,773

Warnings: Fluff, little bit of awkwardness and gift giving, more fluff

Normally, Crowley ignored this time of year, at least anything beyond the increase in demon deals as people decided that they wanted certain material things for their friends and family and were willing to go to any extent to do it.  He wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea of Christmas had never overly appealed to him, to him, it was mostly just a waste of time and an unnecessary reason to spend time with friends and family.

It wasn’t that there weren’t people he wanted to see, but it was more that none of them really wanted to see him, and that was something that he forced to very back of his mind.

None of them, except maybe one.

It was risky though, and he’d spent the last few days deciding whether or not he could take that risk, and whether or not it would be something that would remain unnoticed, even if he was extremely careful.

His decision wasn’t made until Christmas morning, when he received a simple text message.

I know demons probably don’t care about the holidays, but Merry Christmas Crowley.

Crowley had stared at it for a long time and knew that he had to take the risk.

Ensuring he had a few extra protections on himself, he teleported as close as he dared, his face almost instantly screwing up as the heat hit him, throwing him for a moment, feeling the sun burning at his skin almost instantly.

How could anyone stand this?

The little street was quiet, a few having Christmas decorations up, including a few including animals he certainly hadn’t seen being involved in Christmas before.  Shaking his head, he walked a little down the street and around the corner, a group of kids playing cricket in the street, uncaring if a car was to come down the street at any moment.

He knew it was a different part of the world, but he honestly hadn’t been prepared for just how different it could be.

A knock on the door to a quiet little home, not a decoration in sight, and the door was answered with a smile.

“Crowley,” Shannon said, leaning on the doorway.  “I never actually thought I’d see you in person again, at least not here.”

He shrugged it off.  “I figured, seeing as I can practically go anywhere, it would be more polite than a text in return.”

Shannon grins and steps back inside.  “Come on it, we’ll let too much cold air out otherwise.”

Crowley was more than a little relieved as the front door closed behind him, the cool air settling around him, and making him give a small sigh.  “Anyone would think you live in Hell.”

Laughing, Shannon returns to the lounge.  “There’s probably more than a few that would agree with you, but it doesn’t usually involved the torture and everything else, and it’s not actually as hot as what it can get.”

He adjusts his suit at the mere thought.  “Charming.  I can’t believe you came back.”

Shannon cast him a smile.  “It’s my home Crowley, I’m hardly going to let some weather dictate where I live.”

Crowley sits, frowning.  “I guess I’m just too used to the cold.  It was strange appearing here and just finding…heat.”

“That’s what air-conditioning is for.”  Shannon takes a drink of tea.  “And ice-cream.”

“Are you drinking?”  He asked, sounding a lot harsher than he intended to.  “Are you mad?”

“I didn’t realise there were restrictions?”  Shannon raised an eyebrow, looking amused.  “Just because it’s hot, doesn’t mean I can’t drink tea.”

Crowley stared, and then shakes his head.  “You really are backwards.”

“Welcome to Australia,” Shannon chuckled.  “I take it you saw the kangaroo sled down the street? We like to adapt things to our own little piece of paradise; you should hear some of the songs.”

“No thank you,” Crowley said.  “Maybe another time, I think I’ve taken all the difference I can for the day.”

“You did come and visit,” Shannon said.  “You had to expect something.”

Crowley looks at them and sighs after a moment.  “I did, and I hope I don’t seem too…unnerved.  I wanted to offer my own, er, Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Shannon chuckled.  “I’ll pretend you didn’t say it with a certain amount of disdain to what you’ve seen.”

He opened his mouth to say something in return before taking in the living room, quickly seeing that there was no sign of Christmas seemingly anywhere around.  “Do you not celebrate Christmas?”

“I do,” Shannon nods, following his gaze.  “But I don’t see the need in showing it to the world, and with no friends or family visiting this year, I didn’t see the need to set up anything.  It always felt like a lot of effort for little return.”

Crowley watched Shannon get up, surprised.  “You’re the exception of course, never thought I’d make friends with a demon of all things, but I don’t think you mind the missing decorations.  Stay there a moment.”

Shannon disappeared from the room, leaving Crowley wondering to himself for a moment, relaxing on the lounge.  It was…oddly comfortable here, despite the scorching heat outside, and Shannon, well, was Shannon.  They’d become friends when Shannon visited America during the year, and despite working with the British Men of Letters, Shannon had been more than reasonable, even getting along easily with the Winchester’s.  It had felt like much too short a time before they returned home, and Crowley had always wondered just what it was that made Shannon so amicable.

Reappearing, Crowley was stunned to see Shannon carrying a present, and proceeding to hold it out to him.  “Merry Christmas Crowley.”

“You got me a gift?”  He asked.

Shannon smiled as he took it.  “I would’ve sent it with Sam, Dean, and Castiel’s presents, but I can guarantee they wouldn’t have given it to you, especially if they snuck a look.”

Crowley stared at them for a moment.  “You knew I would visit?”

Shrugging, Shannon gestures to the gift.  “Open it.”

He wasn’t used to gifts, so it took him a moment to look at it, the rectangular gift a little heavy, wrapped it…

“Are those meant to be Hellhounds?”  Crowley asked, amused.

Shannon laughed.  “I do have talents outside of hunting, so yes, everyone got their own custom wrapping paper.”

Crowley looks at them.  “I can’t imagine your superiors like this?”

“What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.”  Shannon drinks the rest of their tea.  “And besides, I’d like to see what they’ll do with their best agent.”

He smiles and proceeds to carefully open the present, still not entirely sure how he felt about receiving a gift, let alone one in custom wrapping paper, but he was even more stunned as he saw just exactly what it was.

It was an incredibly old and awfully expensive bottle of scotch.

“Perks of the job, before you ask,” Shannon said at his stunned expression.  “And I looked it up, you can’t actually buy this anywhere except from the rare collector that decides to sell it, which is even rarer in itself.”

“Understandable,” Crowley said, pulling out the bottle and holding it up in the light.  “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”

“Absolutely,” Shannon said.  “I know you have a taste for it, and it won’t do anything here except sit on my shelf and get even older.”

“Honestly I’m of half a mind to do that myself,” Crowley said earnestly.  “This is a lot.”

Shannon shrugs it off.  “It’s nothing.”

Crowley could see it thought, the slight embarrassment, the increase in heart rate and careful avoidance of his gaze.

“And you don’t have to give me anything,” Shannon said quickly as he goes to talk.  “That’s not the point of Christmas.  I just wanted to give you something and that’s all there is to it.”

He couldn’t help it, he smiled.  “Well, thank you, but I still feel it necessary to do something for you in return.  It would only be fair, so name it.”

There was a clear question on their features for a moment, completely unsure, but then it was gone and replaced by something else that he couldn’t quiet place.

“Well…” Shannon was a little hesitant.  “I had been hoping to be in the states for Christmas.  I’m not going to lie, it was why I jumped on the job so quickly in the first place, but there was ultimately not much I could do about being sent back home.  I love here, I do, but…”

Crowley’s hand rested on theirs, making them freeze and look at him.  “Name your price love.”

Shannon gives a soft chuckle.  “It’s going to sound ridiculous to you, I know that, but I’ve always wanted a white Christmas.”

“When you live here in this Hell like heat, I’m not surprised.” Crowley said, grinning.  “Go get something warm on.  It’s the least I can do.”

It must have been a strange sight, seeing someone walk out of their house rugged up to the hilt in this hot weather, the man with them in a black suit which also definitely wasn’t suited, but neither of them seemed to care.  Walking down the street, it was like a blink and they were gone, the thought of it soon fading from anyone who happened to see minds.

Shannon stared a little in wonder at all the white around, the temperate cold, but bearable.  Snow as starting to fall through air, and there was no missing the wide smile as they held out their hand, the small crystals landing and slowly melting away.

Crowley watched, unable to shake the smile from his lips. They joy, he had to admit to himself, was a wonder to watch, and he suddenly decided that there was nothing that he would trade this moment for, not that there was anyone he’d ever tell that to.

Shannon turned and smiled at him.  “Thank you for bringing me here Crowley.  It is…well, it’s beyond words.”

“Merry Christmas Shannon,” Crowley said, earnestly this time. “I hope this beats sitting at home drinking tea.”

Smiling and returning to Crowley’s side, Shannon takes his hand.  “Much. Will you walk with me?”

Crowley’s smiles and nods, the two of them soon walking easily through the snow, talking about everything and nothing.  The longer it went on, the easier it all felt, eventually falling into comfortable silence.  Crowley thought that if Christmas could be like this every year, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all, and as much as Shannon didn’t say anything, they felt much the same.

[justjessame]

Dr. Tali Sullivan Chapter 25

Harvey moved in after we were together a month.  His work took him away more than either of us appreciated, but he and Abi bonded during his down time.  In fact, I was pretty sure he loved watching Sesame Street as much as she did.  I’d hear the two of them laughing about something Elmo was doing while graded papers in my office, and be tempted away to watch the two of them learning their ABCs.  

He fell into our lives so easily, that even my parents didn’t flinch the first time Abi called him “da-da”.  And I swear, he wore the title with more pride than he wore his gun.  The ring, the question, the resounding “yes” came soon after.  The positive pregnancy test, and the beaming man I’d fallen head over heels for rushed by soon after.  Our wedding, which I wanted to take place during autumn, was pushed back so I didn’t feel like it looked like a shotgun type situation.  

Harvey had been called away two weeks before Christmas, Abi and I busied ourselves with picking out decorations for our first major holiday as a family.  I heard the sound of Rowena’s voice outside the house, the silence of the newly fallen snow being broken as she seemed to argue with someone.  But then the voices cut off, and she was knocking on the door and before I could ask, she just assured me it was a lost traveller.  

I had to drop off the final grades for the first semester at my new school. Mom and Dad had taken Abi shopping for presents, and I was planning on meeting them for dinner in town once I finished.  I bumped headlong into a broad shouldered man, and looking up I felt a wave of dejavu hit me.  

“Harvey?”  But it couldn’t be.  Harvey wore suits and cowboy boots, dressing down only at our house where he’d toss on well worn jeans, but still preferred his boots.  “I’m sorry,” the man was staring at me like I’d lost my mind.  “You look like-”

“Tali?” He breathed, and I realized his look wasn’t as though I were crazy, but as though he’d seen a ghost.  “How are you-”

I took a step back and tried to place him.  “I’m sorry, do I know you?”  He rubbed over his face with his left hand, wedding ring shining in the harsh winter sunlight.   

“You-” He took a deep breath and stared down at me.  “You don’t remember me?”  He sounded pained, but I shrugged.  He was somewhat familiar, but that could be because he looked so much like Harvey.  

“Did you take one of my classes?”  I realized how silly that sounded.  “Or did I teach one of your-”  Family members, kids?  I didn’t want to offend him.  

“Tali, sweetheart-”  The voice, the tone, it was stirring something, but then it was gone.  “She took it away.”  It was more to himself than me so I felt no need to speak.  “That witch-”

And then, the strange man who looked very like the man I was going to marry, the man whose child I was carrying inside of me, left as fast as he’d come.  I forgot, as soon as he was gone, that he looked anything like Harvey or what he’d said, only that he seemed confused and I didn’t know how to help him.

Harvey came back before I could miss him too much, his hand reaching for the gentle curve of my bump, and snuggling Abi in his arms.  

“My girls,” he whispered, kissing Abi’s dark curls and then my lips.  “No more trips until the new year, I put in for a break.”  I smiled as he kissed me again.  “Just the three of us-”

“And Mom, Dad, Rowena, Crowley, and maybe Castiel,” I giggled, as he sighed.  “Family is important, babe.”

He was smiling when he pulled back.  Abi giggling along, even if she probably didn’t understand what we were talking about.  “Don’t I know it.”  

Christmas morning dawned with a fresh layer of snow and I was pulled from the warmth of our bed by my fiance being more excited than our toddler by the presents waiting under the tree.  He had Abi in his lap as I lounged on the sofa, and he was showing her how much more fun the actual gifts were than the wrapping paper.  I laughed as she insisted that she loved the box, ripping at the remaining paper as he tried to tempt her with the doll that had been inside.  

“You’re so good with her,” I said, smiling around the cup of cocoa I made myself.  Handing him his own cup and a tiny sippy cup of cooled cocoa for Abi, I settled back to watch him rip open his own gifts.  

Everyone met at my parents’ house for dinner.  All of us enjoying Harvey trying again, with Dad and Crowley’s help to get Abi to play with the gifts waiting for her there.  Rowena and Mom were laughing, but also off to the side with Castiel having tiny whispered conversations, between each rip of paper.  

“It’s rude to gossip and leave me out of it,” I offered, moving closer to them and feeling anxious when the three of them stopped talking and looked at one another guiltily.  “What?”

“It’s nothing, Tali,” Rowena answered, linking my arm in hers.  “We’re just talking about how good Harvey is with our princess.  He’s a natural, isn’t he?”

I let myself be diverted, afraid of what the worried looks between the three of them could mean.

[iamvegorott]

49 Ineffable Husbands

I...I might have gotten carried away

------------------

49. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 

Wake Up

Aziraphale gently knocked on the door to the building Crowley had claimed as his many years ago, he would call it his home but Crowley was never a fan of calling it that. They’ve had many houses throughout the millennia but they’ve never really found a ‘home’. 

“Crowley, dear, Madame Tracy dropped some cake by the shop earlier and I was wondering if you wanted a piece.” Aziraphale wasn’t lying about wanting to know if Crowley wanted some cake, but he was also there because he had called Crowley and he didn’t pick up. Crowley always answers, he’s only missed one phone call from him and that was when Hastur and Ligur had been there. Well, it was mostly Hastur since Ligur was...taken care of. “Crowley?” Aziraphale knocked one more time before turning the knob, knowing it was never locked since only people with Crowley’s permission could enter, a ‘never-ending miracle’, as Crowley called it. 

The usually, somewhat, put together rooms were a lot messier than Aziraphale has ever seen them before. There was no sign of it being caused through violence, no stress, it just looked like things were used and never put away. That was still enough to cause some panic to form in Aziraphale’s chest. 

“Crowley? Crowley, you’re home, yes?” Crowley would never go out without a least sending Aziraphale a quick text, just letting him know he was going out so there wasn’t any worry and Aziraphale would do the same. After both of them almost dying by the hands of those that were supposed to be their kind, they relied on each other a lot more nowadays or would at least check-in and make sure the other was feeling fine. 

When there was no answer from knocking on Crowley’s bedroom door, Aziraphale let himself in once more, a little laugh of relief escaping his lips when he found Crowley in his bed. He must have just dozed off. Crowley must have just gotten annoyed at something and went straight to bed rather than tidy up. That was fine, that was normal. Aziraphale knew how to handle Crowley taking a simple nap. 

“I’ll come back later, I’m sure there’ll be more cake.” Aziraphale chuckled and absent-mindlessly picked up some clothing and placed them in a laundry basket before leaving the building. Crowley would be up later that day and come by the bookshop, he always did. 

x~x~x

“Adam!? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home, dear boy?” Aziraphale said loudly in shock when he opened his shop door after closing hours to find Adam standing there, body slumped a little in worry. 

“Crowley didn’t come over today,” Adam stated. 

“Come over where? Oh, come in, come in. It’s too cold for you to be standing out there without a jacket.” Aziraphale gestured for Adam to enter the building. 

“Crowley usually visits.” Adam closed the door behind him, looking up at the bell for a moment after it rang. 

“Visits?” Aziraphale picked at his fingers as he tried to figure out what Adam was referring to. 

“Ever since that day at the Base, Crowley comes sees me and the Them once a week and he was supposed to come today,” Adam explained from where he stood. 

“Would you like some tea or perhaps some cocoa?” Aziraphale offered. “And maybe Crowley just lost track of time and will be there tomorrow.”

“He’s never been late.” Adam finally turned around. “He’s always there exactly seven days after his previous visit. Every Friday at five in the afternoon and he stays until seven and he gives us all a biscuit before he goes to see you.” 

“Oh.” Aziraphale looked over at the chair that Crowley liked the most, it was next to the heating vent and was in direct sunlight during the day. It had been a while week since Aziraphale went to Crowley’s place and he still hadn’t shown up. 

“Is he okay? My friends were sad to see that he wasn’t there today and I don’t like seeing them sad.” Adam stared down at his feet down, shifting his weight between them. 

“He’s fine, my boy, he’s always fine.” Aziraphale gave Adam a forced smile, hoping the child couldn’t tell that it was. “I could get you a biscuit if you want but you should head back home so your parents don’t worry.” 

“They’re asleep,” Adam said with a shrug. “Do you have chocolate ones?” 

“Of course! Let me go get it real quick.” Aziraphale stepped away and when he was out of sight, he snapped his fingers and a plate of chocolate treats appeared in his hands. He spun right back around and walked up to Adam. “If it’ll help, I’ll stop by Crowley’s and let him know that you miss him. I’m sure he must have just gotten busy with something and lost track of time and wasn’t sure if being late would be okay.” 

“You miss him too?” Adam asked as he took a treat. “He should be here and he’s not.” 

“How do you know he comes here after seeing you?” 

“He says ‘I’m off to see my angel’ and we all know that’s you. My mom thinks it’s cute.”

“Your mother knows of us?” Aziraphale went stiff. 

“She thinks Crowley is another kid.” Adam had another treat. “I tell her about the games we play and she likes that I’m ‘expanding my friend group’.” Adam sounded like he was quoting her, he must have overhead it since it wasn’t likely she had said that to him face-to-face. “Let him know he can come back whenever he wants. It doesn’t have to be on a schedule.” Adam grabbed a few more treats before suddenly vanishing. 

“It’s only been a week. Nothing to worry about.” Aziraphale said to himself. 

x~x~x

“I’m still expecting Crowley to show up,” Newt said with a weak laugh before sipping from his cup, making a face when he burned his tongue. 

“I agree. It’s rare to see one of you without the other.” Anathema said as she pushed up her glasses with a hand after having looked down at a book for a bit. 

“Crowley’s just been tired lately,” Aziraphale said with his own weak smile. 

“Do angels and demons really need sleep?” Newt asked. “Like, you can’t die unless you’re killed, right?” 

“It’s complicated,” Aziraphale said. 

“The sleeping or the not dying?” 

“Both.” 

“Can’t you just check on him?” Newt pointed up and Aziraphale’s brows went up as well. “Doesn’t he live here with you?” 

“Not all couples live together,” Anathema said, flipping through a few pages before sighing and closing the book. 

“I think you’re thinking a little too much on mine and Crowley’s...uh...relationship.” Aziraphale cleared his throat, that last word causing his face to feel warm for some reason. 

“I can’t tell if that means you’re not together or if all you do is have se-” Newt stopped when Anathema elbowed him in the side. “-ow!”  

“Thank you for letting me look around. I’ll find that book one day.” Anathema said, handing the book to Aziraphale. 

“I’ll keep an eye out for it, your dedication to finding it had got me intrigued as well. What was the title?” 

“Kama Sutra. But I want it in its original language, the original text, you know? I want it to feel more authentic when we learn from it.” Anathema was gesturing towards her body as she spoke. 

“I...I am actually able to help you.” Aziraphale tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Give me just a moment.” Aziraphale went over to a wall and pressed his hand against it, hearing Newt gasp when it pushed back like a panel and it shifted over to the side, showing a hidden storage hole. 

“You do not.” Anathema watched as Aziraphale picked up a book and went back to her. “How? Why? When?” Her questions came out all at once. 

“Crowley managed to get his hands on it a while ago, not sure how and I don’t think I ever want to know but he gave it to me as an ‘April Fools’ gift on the first of April. He still loves that silly holiday he helped create.” 

“I’m not shocked he came up with that.” Newt chuckled. 

“Why do you have it locked away like that? I get keeping it in the back so kids don’t find it, but the secret apartment seems a little much.”  Anathema asked as she gently opened the book, how it was in such great condition was beyond her. 

“Hearing Gabriel yell ‘pornography’ without there actually being any is terrible enough. I don’t even want to imagine what it would be like if he actually found erotica.” Aziraphale rubbed at his temple.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to return it as soon as we’re done and in the same condition,” Anathema said, giving Aziraphale a quick hug. 

“Don’t have too much fun, I’m not helping pay for a medical bill because you misread the book.” Aziraphale teased with a wag of his finger. 

“Thank you again, and let Crowley know that I owe him too,” Anathema said. 

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” Aziraphale smiled and snapped his fingers, sending the two back to their home. “I’ll be sure.” He added in a softer voice. It had been a month without Crowley. A whole month. What if he didn’t get up for years, decades, centuries? It’s not like he hasn’t slept for that long before. But what caused it? Did Aziraphale do something wrong? He should go back, right? He should make sure Crowley was okay, right? 

x~x~x

“Crowley...Crowley?” Aziraphale was, once again, at Crowley’s building and knocking on the front door. “Oh, dear.” Aziraphale walked in and found that the house was in the same condition it was in three months prior. He had been scared to come back, worried that he was the problem and him arriving would make everything worse. 

It was getting hard without Crowley. Madame Tracy and Shadwell kept asking about him almost every day. Adam showed up once a week, almost crying the last time he had been there. Anathema and Newt had come back with the book and both of them had convinced Aziraphale to come to the building, saying that he should at least peek in and make sure he was still there. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale walked straight to the bedroom, the door at the same angle where he left it. After opening it, he saw that everything was still the same. The clothing was in the basket, the glass of water was still full and Crowley was in the same position on the bed as well. 

Aziraphale went to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, Crowley’s feet next to him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, hoping that him just being there would be enough to wake Crowley, but after twenty minutes of stiff silence, he knew that wasn’t true. 

“Crowley...Crowley, dear, please wake up. You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s leg. “Madame Tracy misses talking with you, Adam misses playing with you, Anathema and Newt miss seeing you.” Aziraphale swallowed. “I miss your snark, your wit, your walk, your talk, your...everything.” He took a moment to move up the bed so he was now next to Crowley’s chest. “I miss you walking into my shop every day, sitting in your chair and asking me what I’m up to. I miss us going out to eat, haven’t been to the Ritz in forever and I can’t go without you, it’s our place, it’d feel wrong.” Aziraphale’s chest and eyes were beginning to burn. “I miss your jokes, your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes sparkle when your working on your plants or when we’re together.” Aziraphale sniffed, there were tears forming and he didn’t care to stop them. “I miss you. I know it’s only been three months but it feels like an eternity without you.” Aziraphale gently placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek. “Wake up...please. Please, I need you back. Even if it’s just for a moment at a time, I need you. Please.” Aziraphale leaned down and pressed his forehead to Crowley’s. “Please.” 

“Angel?” Crowley’s voice came out soft and hoarse. 

“Crowley!?” Aziraphale straightened up quickly. “Crowley, you’re awake! Oh, thank heavens!” 

“You’re here? I thought you were mad at me?” Crowley was clearly only half-awake as he pushed himself up slightly. 

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I was late. I was late seeing Adam and Them and I was late seeing you. You weren’t there and I thought I upset you.” Crowley blinked a few times. “I came home to take a nap because I was upset too.” 

“Crowley, my dear, I was out getting a new book. I could have sworn I left a message.” 

“Machine’s broke.” Crowley rubbed at his eyes. “How long was I out?”

“Three months.” 

“Three...damn. Was only supposed to be an hour. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m just glad you’re awake.” Aziraphale patted Crowley’s shoulder, leaving it there. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Crowley put a hand on top of Aziraphale’s. 

“A lot happened while you were absent.” Aziraphale’s face was starting to warm up. 

“You’ll have to tell me all about it.” Crowley was feeling warm as well.

“We have all the time in the world to catch up.” Aziraphale unconsciously started to lean. 

“As long as it’s with you.” Crowley closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. It was a short kiss, just enough to feel it before they moved apart. 

“O-Oh.” 

“That was a long time coming,” Crowley said with a small smile. 

“I believe it was.” Aziraphale was the one to initiate the kiss, both letting it last just a bit longer. 

“Want to go to the Ritz?” Crowley asked. 

“As long as it’s with you,” Aziraphale repeated with a wink.

“Perfect.”  

---------------------

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Drabble Prompts (closed)

[sconesfortea]

Good Omens Easter eggs/easily missed moments, Ep. 1

1. This mention of a motorway being diverted away from Tadfield, which is explained in the books as Adam’s power subconsciously protecting the town he loves, and I love this nod to that here. During this scene you can also make out a ‘letters to the editor’ on the back page of the newspaper, which features letters from R.P. Tyler, the neighbourhood watch member that Anathema meets later, and who’s letters feature heavily in the book.

2. All the people that gather behind and follow Aziraphale and Crowley through the opening titles have either David Tennant’s or Michael Sheen’s face, if somewhat distorted. This was mentioned by Neil Gaiman at a talk at The Southbank Centre last week.

3. Mr Young’s car number plate is TARDIS backwards, this is one of many Doctor Who Easter eggs.

4. And Crowley’s number plate appears to be ‘curtain’ backwards.

5. The nuns having a table tennis table in reference to this bit from the book:

The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.

6. Sir Terry Pratchett’s hat hanging in Aziraphale’s shop

7. The shops neighbouring Aziraphale’s shop all seem to have a hidden meaning; ‘Skye Suits’ referencing the eerie connection to Skye this production has (Neil has a house there; Frances McDormand goes to Skye regularly on holiday and once rented Neil’s home there; the series’ director Douglas McKinnon is from Skye etc); ‘Honey Sweets’ may be a reference to the ‘Order of the Honey Bee’ which is a group of people Terry Pratchett elected to safe-guard the future of his works, or could also be a reference to the fact that Neil keeps (or once kept) bees; ‘Jon Coffee’ has me a little stumped, except that it’s a homophone to John Coffey from The Green Mile (who like Aziraphale has healing powers) but maybe I’m missing something? (or looking too hard!)

8. Crowley dresses in a Mary Poppins inspired get-up when he’s posing as Warlock’s nanny. This isn’t really missable but it made me laugh a hell of a lot!

9. While Aziraphale is in Heaven you can see angels on hoverboards in the background, again this made me laugh a lot!

10. Aziraphale reads the ‘Celestial Observer’ a pun on the real ‘Observer’ newspaper, but also a nod to The Them discussing that people read newspapers specific to their interests (The Angler Times, Physic News etc).

11. This is Crystal Palace Park and possibly only excites me as it’s just down the road from me and I’ve been going there since I was a kid.

12. The name of Aziraphale’s magic act appears to be ‘The Amazing Mr Fell and his Remarkable Feats of Prestidigitation’.

13. When The Them are discussing Adam’s desire for a dog three of the Horsepersons of the Apocalypses’ accessories are represented; the scales (Famine) in front of Wensleydale, the sword (War) on Brian’s belt, and the crown (Pollution) in Pepper’s hands. I seriously love this!

[more Easter eggs]

[aziraphalesrarebooks]

Neighborly Affection

Anthony J Crowley was four years old the first time he met the tiny Ezra A Fell; he wasn't impressed.

He was forty-six when he found him again in a bookshop in Soho.

The Childhood Friends, Flower Shop, Christmas, Friends to Lovers fic nobody asked for in the middle of October.

Read here or on Ao3. 

Anthony J Crowley was four years old the first time he met the tiny Ezra A Fell.

He was small, wrinkled and had grey-white curls atop his tiny little head. When he leaned in for a closer look, bright blue eyes stared back at him while his small fingers tangled in his hair and tugged.

Both boys cried after the encounter.

Little Anthony hadn’t been impressed and told his mother as much when they arrived home after the visit. She had tutted and given him a biscuit, promising him that one day the two would be great friends.

 He didn't believe her.

The second time he met Ezra, his mother was babysitting, taking care of the small infant while his mother went shopping for that week's groceries. She had sat him down on their sofa and gently laid the tiny bundle in his arms. This time, instead of his hair, Ezra had wrapped his small fingers around Anthony’s and held them tightly, inadvertently gaining the approval of the young boy in the process.

 He was utterly taken with the baby and had asked his mother if they could keep him.

 She politely told him, "no."

He’d proudly told Mrs. Fell that he had helped his mummy take care of Ezra and that he was very strong; for a baby, that is and asked if they could visit more often.

As the boys grew, Anthony became protective over the little boy.

  When Anthony was in third grade, Ezra started kindergarten. Anthony held his hand as he walked him to his class on the first day, and subsequently every day for the rest of the year.

 He made sure to show him all the best spots on the playground and taught him how to properly kick a football.

He helped Ezra with homework, although, he seemed to have a rather firm grasp on it, or with making new friends; as he’d always been better at it than Ezra.

They were an unlikely duo, despite their age difference, the two got along well and could play for hours while their mothers visited with one another. Often playing under the old apple tree in Ezra's back yard or helping their mothers bake.

 Christmases were the best, they could spend hours out in the snow and ice, only returning to home when they were completely and utterly frozen. Anthony especially loved the days when Mrs. Fell would make them mugs of cocoa topped with extra marshmallows while they thawed beside the fireplace, munching on Christmas biscuits and listening to records.

When Anthony was in sixth grade; his mother fell ill.

 Mrs. Fell did her best to visit her dear friend often, Ezra would keep Anthony company, taking his mind off things for a few moments and allowing him to just be a kid.

By the time he was in eighth grade, she had passed away.

Ezra had been devastated for his dear friend, the older boy who’d he’d grown up with now seemed so lost. He was distant and sad, so unlike the Anthony he knew.

They moved away from the sleepy little village of Tadfield not four months after her passing. Too heartbroken to stay in the home that she’d kept, they moved away to London.

 Ezra missed him terribly.

 When Crowley was in tenth grade, his father remarried. The woman was cold, spiteful and so distant from what he remembered of his warm and soft mother that he missed so dreadfully much. Ezra and his parents had been invited to the wedding. Anthony had recognized him immediately and had all but run over to them. He’d hugged Mrs. Fell so tightly she winced and when he pulled away, he pretended not to have tears in his eyes.

He and Ezra had spent the rest of the evening together catching up and eating more cake than either of them should have.

They both promised the other they would write, and they did for a brief time, then as it usually happens, the letters got fewer and further apart until communication ceased completely.

   When he graduated, he received a package from Mrs. Fell in the post containing fifty pounds and a framed picture of his mother, Mrs. Fell, Ezra and himself smiling widely, eyes full of mischief and mirth.

 He'd cried that night holding the framed photo, missing simpler times and his mother dearly.

 Years later, it still hung proudly in his living room.  

  Anthony, now known almost exclusively by his last name; Crowley, hadn’t thought of Ezra Fell in many years with more than a passing memory. As many adults do, he had forgotten what had been important to him as a child. The times he did stop to think about the Fell’s, he reflected on how perfect the world had seemed during the days spent together with his mother and her best friend and Ezra.

  He’d done well for himself, he’d become a florist of all things and had opened a shop in Soho called Nightshade. He had worked hard, saved and pinched until he’d had earned enough to secure the building and the small flat above it. He’d worked to make it his, painting the shop and arranging the shelves just so. He made his workspace sleek and tidy.

 His work had become popular, even making it into several of the top bridal magazines for arrangements he created for a few celebrity weddings.

His assistant; a woman by the name of Anathema Device, was the only other person he would work with. He felt she kept him grounded, she also happened to make a good cup of coffee.

He was proud of the life he’d created for himself, he had a home, his dream job, a few close friends who meant the world to him and a little snake he’d jokingly named Crawley.

 There were times when he missed his Mother and wished he liked his father and stepmother enough to visit. He often wondered what she would think of his choices, would she be proud of him? He felt that she would. His father had been livid when he'd left the hospital, he had never really wanted to be a doctor, but it had been expected of him. No, at forty-six, he was much happier as a florist than he ever had been as a doctor.

 It was one of those days when he had been thinking a bit too much of his childhood, the days laying out under the huge apple tree in between the Fell’s property and their own. The way the sun seemed to warm his soul all the while listening to Ezra’s insistent chattering or playing some silly little game. As they got older, they would read quietly as their mother's laughed in the kitchen.

 He sometimes wondered what the boy had gotten up to. He had once attempted to find him on Facebook but had never been able to find him. He had probably married some local woman, had a few children, maybe a dog. He hoped he was doing well, that he was happy.

 He was pulled from his musings of times long past by Anathema. “Crowley? When do you need the delivery of roses by? They just called and said they could be a day late.”

 He ran a slender hand through his shocking auburn hair, “Shit, at least by this afternoon so we can start prepping for the wedding this weekend. Call them back and tell them early tomorrow morning at the latest. Tell them if they do this again, we will find a supplier that can meet deadlines.”

 She nodded and walked into the back office.

 Across the street, the relator took down the For-Sale sign in the window of the old tea shop. He briefly wondered who had purchased it, it needed work. The previous owner had done little in the way of maintenance and whoever purchased it would need to put in quite a few hours to make it inhabitable again.

A month later, a work truck arrived.

New windows were put in, repairs were made to the roof and to the building. Once they were finished on the outside, it looked much the same but refreshed. From what he could tell, the inside was being heavily renovated as well.

It was mid-October when a moving truck arrived outside the shop. He knew there was a flat above that shop as well; he’d briefly considered buying it since the space was a bit larger than his own shop but the amount of work needing to be done on it was outrageous. If the new owners were moving in, that must mean that they were close to opening.

He decided to take a nice bouquet over soon, once they were settled to introduce himself. It never hurt to be friendly with the neighbors, especially when they could direct customers over to you.

 A week later, various vans arrived delivering what he assumed was the merchandise they planned to sell.

A bookshop, he concluded by that afternoon.

He’d yet to see the new owners, only a small blue sedan that had been parked beside the building since they’d moved in.

Yet another week passed, and Crowley was beginning to wonder if the shop would ever open. He'd decided it was likely a young couple, pilling all their funds into their dream bookshop.

They still didn’t have a window sign up and neither he nor Anathema had yet to catch sight of the new owners.

  Two more days passed before he spotted any signs of life beyond stocked shelves and an old blue car.

 “Do you think they are ever going to open? If they don’t open by the holidays, I don’t see them lasting the year.” Anathema said as she arranged a new order of succulents, they’d gotten in on the window sill.

 “Move the two bigger ones into the middle of the display, there. But you’re right, maybe they took too big a risk in all those repairs. I told you the place was a wreck when the old owner left.”

 She nodded towards the window, “Don’t look now but I think that might be him!”

 He caught sight of a man around his own age, he had white hair and dressed like his grandfather. Still, he was attractive enough from what he could tell.

 “Exactly what I expected from a bookseller.”

 “Crowley, really. He looks nice enough.”

 “That he does.”

 "He could be single."

 He spluttered, "Oi! That's no way to speak to your boss."

 "You're more than that and you know it," she said, mussing his hair as she walked into the backroom.

 "Hey!" he replied, using his fingers to comb through his hair.

 The next morning, he could tell someone was in the shop. Lights were on and he had seen someone walk past the newly formed window display several times.

 He wondered if he'd been wrong. The man looked about his age, but he'd yet to see any sign of anyone other than the blonde.

 He put together a nice arrangement, nothing too personal but a nice welcome nonetheless, and made his way across the street.

 He knocked twice.

 He heard shuffling, he moved to adjust the floral arrangement, obscuring his line of sight as the door swung open.

 “Oh, hello. I’m afraid you have the wrong address.”

 He propped the vase against his chest and reached out a hand blindly to the other man. “Definitely the correct address, I own the shop across the way and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. My name is Anthony Crowley, but you can just call me Crowley. Everyone else does.”

 He felt a warm hand slide into his own, firm and strong, “Anthony Crowley? Was your mother’s name Beatrice? I do believe we’ve met before.” He said taking the arrangement and leading him into the shop.

 Curiously, he followed.

 The other man placed the flowers on one of the tables up front and turned around.

 His usually quick-thinking brain stuttered to a halt, the man was gorgeous. Bright eyes and plump lips and the softest looking hair he’d ever seen. His hand tingling from where they’d just touched, and...

 Then it hit him.

 Oh.

 “Oh, it’s you! Ezra?”

 Ezra laughed, a sound so familiar and foreign it made him ache. How long had it been since he’d heard that laugh? It was deeper, different but the same.

 he felt a pang of nostalgia wash over him as he thought of all their adventures as children.

 “Quite well, what a surprise to see you! You must tell me how you’ve been. The last mother heard you’d become a doctor like your father.”

 He wrinkled his nose, “I did, just wasn’t for me. I’m much more suited to life as a florist. I’ve been at it… oh, about ten years now. What made you decide to open a bookshop in Soho of all places?”

 “Well, it’s always been a dream of mine. I have visited Soho many times throughout the years and oh! I just came to love it, it felt right. I was a professor of literature for many years and I came to find that I was quite good at finding rare works. It seemed fitting.”

 It didn’t surprise him; from what he remembered of Ezra, he'd devoured books faster than a plate of his mother's biscuits.

 “It’s a nice area, are you married?” he blurted out.

 The man beamed, “Not at all, I thought I might have come close once, but he turned out to be dreadful. It’s just me and my books.” He laughed nervously, “What about you dear?”

 “I was married briefly but we were not good together. We divorced after I started as an intern and I’ve been mostly single since.” He shrugged, "I'm not complaining."

 "If I may ask, what did you practice?"

 "Pediatric oncology, too many sick kids. Too many bad memories, I wanted to help but..." he trailed off.

 "I understand." Crowley was surprised to believe him, he'd been there through his mother's cancer.

 "Well, uh, I better get going."

 “I’d love to catch up, I haven’t gotten my kitchen up and running yet or I would offer you something to drink,” Ezra said sheepishly.

 Crowley laughed, “What about dinner tonight? My treat. We can catch up then.” He pulled out a business card and a pen, scribbled a number on the back and handed it to Ezra. “Call me, I close at 7 tonight. We can go to my favorite place two blocks over.”

 Ezra nodded, "See you tonight, then."

 "Tonight."

 At 7:30 PM, Ezra Fell and Anthony J Crowley walked down the street together. The air was cool, even for this time of year. Their hands brushed accidentally as they moved out of the way of a couple passing them on the sidewalk, Crowley has been surprised to feel a lingering tingle where his warm hand had grazed his own.

 “I should have mentioned it was sushi, are you ok with this?” he asked cautiously.

 He wiggled, Ezra still seemed to exude excitement when food was involved. “It is a favorite of mine!”

 Crowley nodded and held the door for the other man.

 The night went well, they’d gotten along just as well as they had as children.

 Crowley had learned that Ezra’s parents had both passed away recently, his father first then his mother not long after.

 He learned that he’d originally wanted to go into the ministry before a Shakespeare class had inspired him otherwise. He had sheepishly admitted that he would have likely been a terrible priest but was a relatively good professor and had enjoyed it immensely.

 Crowley told him about his strained relationship with his father, about the marriage his father had convinced him would be the best for his career. How she had cheated on him with his father on multiple occasions. How he'd been good as his job but couldn't take the suffering and death.

 They spent time together often, dining out and going to plays or concerts. They fell into a familiar pattern, nearly every night was now spent in the company of the other.

 And despite everything, Crowley found him incredibly attractive.

 Perfect even.  

 He was intelligent and kind, steadfast in his beliefs and was just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.

 He also had excellent taste in wine and didn’t mind sharing his finds.

He was a bright light in a world of darkness, and he found that he was addicted to Ezra.

 They were sprawled out on Ezra's old sofa, wine glasses full.

 He was content.

 And quite suddenly, he realized it had come full-circle. That he loved Ezra Fell, that the childhood love he’d felt for the boy he was, held nothing in comparison to the love he felt for the man sitting next to him.

  In the blink of an eye, two years had passed.

Two years of being head over heels for his best friend, two years of dreaming about that soft, unyielding hand in his own, and two years of knowing with the utmost certainty that Ezra would likely never feel the same way for him.

 November quickly rolled around, and the shops of Soho had already begun to decorate for the holiday season. Crowley had been taking orders for poinsettias and other Christmas arrangements for most of the day.

 Anathema and he sat discussing the upcoming orders and how to best get them delivered quickly and efficiently so they wouldn’t be left clogging up their window space when she nudged him in the side. “Your boyfriend’s coming over.”

 “Ngk. He’s not… we’re not. Anathema” he whined. She had been teasing him for months since she had sussed out his feelings for their neighbor.

 She grinned and stuck out her tongue as the bell rang over the door. "You should just kiss him already, he likes you too."

 "Go away!" he hissed, under his breath as Ezra walked into the shop.

 “Oh, will you look at the time, it’s my lunch break.” She said tapping her watch, then stood up, grabbed her bag and walked out the door heading towards her favorite café.

 He turned his attention to Ezra, “Mr. Fell, how may I assist you today?” he teased.

 “I had hoped to steal you away for a bit, but it seems Miss. Device had a hankering for caffeine… or she wanted to see her young fellow before he left for the day.”

 Crowley laughed, it was no secret Anathema had a thing for the klutzy barista. Newt was a nice enough man, but he certainly didn’t see what she saw in him. “She has asked him out three times already and he still hasn’t gotten the hint. She told me she’s going to just kiss him and drag him to bed if he doesn’t catch on soon.”

 Ezra raised an eyebrow at that, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like “I know the feeling.”

 “Hey, did you want any arrangements? I’m about to place the first order for poinsettias, mistletoe, and evergreen.”

 He sighed, “I suppose, whatever you think best dear. I do love seeing young couples getting caught under the mistletoe.”

 Crowley nodded.

 “And done, I'll bring it by when everything comes in. I think we can close for lunch a few minutes early, Anathema should be back soon, and I’m starved. What did you have in mind?” he grabbed his coat and keys from behind the counter, taking a moment to lock up.

 “Sushi?”

 “Sounds good.”

 During the walk to their favorite restaurant, their hands accidentally brushed not once, not twice but three times. he wasn't sure why Ezra kept running into him, but his poor heart wouldn’t take it if it happened again.

 Ezra took a sip of his tea, swirling it around in the mug. "What would you say to Christmas this year at my parent's place? We haven't gone home in a while and it would be nice to get away for a few days."

 Crowley grimaced, "I haven't had Christmas in Tadfield since... well, you know."

 "We don't have to, you can come over to mine."

 "You know, one of the things I have missed most about Christmas was the biscuits and cocoa. Sure, why not, let's do Christmas back home."

 Ezra grinned and popped a piece of fish into his mouth, wiggling happily as he did so.

 November soon became December, and both rarely had time to leave their shops, often staying open until 8 or 9 to keep up with the near-constant influx of customers. Their meals consisted of takeout and copious amounts of wine to survive.

  Then, finally, it was Christmas Eve. They were closed for the next three days, as Christmas had fallen on a Saturday that year and would be closed as usual on Sunday.  

Crowley had come to find that he was looking forward to his trip to Tadfield. It wouldn’t be the first time they had returned to Tadfield, often using the cottage as a retreat when the bustling London streets became too much, but it was the first time he'd gone by during Christmas.

Ezra left the night before, Crowley would be meeting him the next morning if he was able to beat traffic. He'd packed the essentials, fed Crawley and headed on his way.

By the time Crowley arrived, it was nearing noon. He noticed the wreath on the door and smiled, Ezra loved Christmas. As children, he remembered the Fell house decorated beautifully in reds and greens. Mrs. Fell always had Christmas biscuits on hand and made the absolute best hot cocoa of anyone he’d ever met.

He gathered the two gifts he’d bought for Ezra along with the extra wine and goodies he’d picked up before leaving London, he managed to open the door and push through before being hit with nostalgia.

 It smelt like his childhood, and as he took in the interior, he noticed decorations that hadn’t seen the light of day in years were out and twinkling as brightly as they had many moons ago.

 Cinnamon candles were burning, and he could smell the freshly baked biscuits wafting from the kitchen.

 He was so overwhelmed, he didn’t notice the shy smile Ezra flashed him.

 “Wow” was all he could say, “Uh, wine?”

 “I take it you like the décor? I got carried away, but Mother always made it so festive, it seemed wrong to only get a few things out.”

 “It’s perfect.”

 Ezra beamed, the room felt brighter somehow. His heart ached, he loved him so much. Being here, with the memories of the past and present made him want, the ache settling in between his ribcage. He wondered what his mother would say if she knew that he'd fallen in love with her best friend's son. She would probably tease him and run over to tell Mrs. Fell.

They made dinner together, Crowley built a fire and put on some old Christmas records Ezra had found while decorating. Before they both knew it, they were dressed in their pajamas and sipping on hot cocoa.

 “You know Ezra, I think this is the best Christmas I’ve had since we were kids. Do you remember the biscuit exchange? Our moms would spend hours decorating and baking then you and I would sneak out handfuls? As a child, I was sure we were unnoticed, but I think they left that plate out just for us.”

 Ezra chuckled, “I believe you are correct in that line of thinking, it would be difficult not to notice two loud little boys barreling into the kitchen.”

 "I used to think of those moments often, so many of my memories were made in this house. My mother truly loved your mother, they could spend hours together all the while you and I were busy causing trouble."

 "I suppose we take after them in that way" he grinned.

   Conversation quieted, as they enjoyed the company of the other while listening to the fire crackling and popping, Christmas music playing softly in the background.

 Ezra sighed, Crowley’s eyes were closed, and he had a warm grin plastered to his handsome face. He stood up and walked over to the small tree; it was the only one he could find but it had worked perfectly well. The lights twinkled and shone, casting a warm glow on the room.

 He picked up the gift reverently, fiddling with the paper as he walked back to the sofa. The package had been wrapped beautifully, he’d taken his time.

 It had to be perfect.

 This could make or break everything, he sighed.

 Crowley’s eyes popped open when he felt the couch dip as Ezra sat back down. The other man was sitting stiffly, he looked nervous. His cheeks were flushed, and he refused to meet his eyes. “Ezra?”

 “I just want you to know, this doesn’t have to change anything. I just, well. I thought you should know.” He passed the red and gold package to Crowley, atop the package was a small bunch of mistletoe.

 For a brief moment, Crowley considered what Ezra would do if he held the greenery above his head and kissed him.

 He looked at it curiously before delicately opening the box, nestled inside was an ornament of all things. It was beautifully crafted, an angel with white hair holding an apple in their hand with a snake that looked suspiciously like Crawley wrapped around him. His golden eyes met blue, Crowley's brows were knitted together in confusion.

 Ezra looked away, flushing as he did. “It reminded me of us, I hope you know how special you are to me, Anthony. You are my oldest friend, I must admit before I knew it was you, I had hoped to get a chance to meet the attractive man across the street. Then, you came over and introduced yourself and I feared I would ruin everything. I have never known a world without you in it, even when we didn’t see one another for all those years, I would think of you and hope you were doing well. Then you waltzed into my life and I have never wanted so badly.” He was fidgeting with the buttons of his tartan pajamas, not looking up.

 “You, are you? You want me?” he breathed, baffled at the thought his feelings could be returned.

 Crowley felt a warm hand softly wrap around his own, entwining their fingers.

 Ezra swallowed hard, “I do, very much and I do hope you want me too.”

 Crowley nodded, arranging himself to be closer to the other man. He reached out his other hand to rest on Ezra’s face, his thumb brushing over his lips and rubbing circles on the apple of his cheek. “I love you, Ezra.” He paused, watching closely for his reaction, “Would you mind, that is… may I kiss you?”

 Ezra sighed in relief, a beaming smile blossoming on his face. “I would love nothing more than for you to kiss me, Anthony Crowley.”

 As kisses go, it was soft and sweet. Uncertain and new, their noses bumping from time to time as they fell into a rhythm.

 Out of breath, flushed with swollen lips, Crowley pulled back, resting his forehead against Ezra’s, “Happy Christmas.”

 “Happy Christmas, Anthony.” He leaned over to kiss him once more, his fingers finding his hair and tangling themselves in the gloriously soft tresses.

 He briefly pulled away, “Oh, Crowley?”

 “Yes, Ezra?”

 “I forgot to say, I love you too. I was dreadfully distracted by your lovely mouth.”

 Crowley snorted and laughed, capturing Ezra’s plump lips in another kiss.

 Anthony J Crowley was four years old the first time he met the tiny Ezra A Fell; he wasn't impressed.

He was forty-six when he found him again in a bookshop in Soho.

 He was forty-eight when Ezra A Fell became his boyfriend.

And he was forty-nine when he became his husband.