#i have to make paintings for my mom and cousin for christmas anyways so i may as freakin well even though it won’t be on time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

7-wonders · 2 years

Note

Hey so I can’t remember if it’s ever been talked about, but how did mad love!Michael’s first meeting with his in-laws go? I’d imagine he’d be very nervous to meet readers family, and very worried they wouldn’t like him 🥺 obviously though they love him, and then he ends up getting teased by his wife because he was all worried for nothing lol

OKAY I started writing something like this last year where you brought him home for Christmas and that was the first time he met your family, but then I got covid and by the time I recovered it was just too far past the holiday season. So when you're reading this, keep in mind that this is why this snippet references Christmas.

Also, a part that I didn't get the chance but really want to write is Michael holding a baby for the first time when he meets your niece OR cousin (I haven't decided if I want to go kinda OOC and give you siblings, which is why I'm waffling back and forth)

ANYWAYS here's what I wrote during Christmas last year!

The plane flies high above the clouds, the light shining through to create a stunning painting for anybody lucky enough to have a window seat. Though you have a window seat, it’s impossible to focus on anything other than the ball of dread currently sitting in the pit of your stomach and has been since you realized you’re less than an hour away from your parents meeting Michael. Now, that’s all that you can think about.

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” you repeat yet again, squeezing Michael’s hand. “It’s gonna be fine!”

Michael looks at you from the seat next to you. You had insisted on flying home for the holidays, explaining to Michael that it would be near-impossible for you to come up with a good reason as to why you didn’t fly or drive home, and transmutation was not a good reason. So you booked two tickets for you and Michael, though Michael managed to change them to first class tickets when you had definitely purchased the economy tickets. Oh well, you weren’t complaining about the ample legroom. “I’m not nervous,” Michael reassures you.

You laugh incredulously. “But I am.”

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay. Parents love me!”

“...have you ever even met anybody who’s a parent?”

“My grandma, though she killed herself to get away from me. My mother, who tried to kill me. Oh, Ben Harmon! He told me he never wanted to see me again, though.”

The man in the row ahead turns around in concern, and you smile reassuringly at him. “He’s joking, don’t worry.” Your fellow traveler begrudgingly goes back to whatever he was doing, though you can tell by the way that he doesn’t turn the pages of his book that he’s trying to eavesdrop.

“Sorry,” Michael mutters in your ear.

“I’m sorry. I just really want this week to go well.”

“And it’s going to.”

“I know,” you sigh heavily.

Michael laughs, but you can hear the endearment behind it. “Besides, if it starts going south, I have a quick escape plan that’s guaranteed to work.”

You disembark the plane with the knowledge that Michael can transmute you both away if need be, though that doesn’t make you feel too much better considering the need for transmutation would mean that everything has gone horribly wrong. After grabbing your bags from baggage claim, you and Michael set out to find your parents. As you descend the escalator, you see them before they see you, and you break out into a grin. Even though you’re an adult now, your parents still have the ability to make any fear or anxiety disappear almost instantly.

Your mom notices you first–you can see the way her big eyes grow impossibly wider and how she starts to hit your dad’s arm so that he pulls his attention away from the arrivals and departures board. Despite being in a very crowded place and dragging your husband/boyfriend (you had both kind of decided to just be boyfriend and girlfriend, since you were only married in the eyes of the Church of Satan and not legally) behind you, you can feel your eyes pricking with tears. You haven’t seen them in months now, and just being in the same area as them is already making you a little emotional.

It’s a good thing Michael’s right next to you, because you almost throw the bags at him when you step off the escalator so you can sprint to your parents. Your arms go around them at the same time that they envelop you in their own arms. In a split second, you’re home.

“Hi,�� you say against your mom’s shoulder, taking a moment to enjoy how familiar and comfortable her shirt smells.

“Hi, baby.” Your mom rubs your back before pulling away so that she can actually look at you. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys too.” Your dad kisses the top of your head, making you look up in a grin as he pulls you into another hug. Your dad’s not a man who shows much emotion, so for him to initiate a hug is pretty big. “Hi, dad.”

He smiles at you before his eyes land over your shoulder. “Did you forget about–”

“Oh!” Maybe you did. Sheepishly, you turn around and gesture for Michael to come over. He had been standing back to let you have your moment with your parents, trying to look very interested in the people walking around and not like he’s out of place. “Mom, Dad, this is Michael Langdon. My boyfriend,” you tack on as an afterthought, even though they both already know that Michael’s your boyfriend.

Michael steps forward, a charming smile on his face, and shakes their hands. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you both. Thank you for being kind enough to host me in your home for Christmas.”

“Don’t be silly, we weren’t about to let you spend Christmas by yourself,” your mom says. Yet again, you had found yourself half-lying to someone about the circumstances of Michael’s life. You had only lied by omission though; your mom knew that Michael’s family had largely abandoned him and that he only had his dad, who was never around. Due to Michael’s upbringing “in the system”, he had never experienced Christmas. So not a lie, but you’re leaving a lot of stuff out.

“Still,” Michael says, “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Are we just going to stand here all day, or can we get going?” Your dad says gruffly. You sigh under your breath, knowing he’s going to be the hardest to crack this week.

“Yeah, lead the way,” you respond, grabbing your bag and Michael’s hand before following your parents to the parking lot.

“That went well,” Michael whispers in your ear.

You grimace. “...Sure.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic.”

“No, I’m simply prepared.”

Luckily for your anxious heart, your mom gets a work call the moment that you reach the car. Your dad isn’t very talkative, which means that you get to just breathe for a moment and point out different landmarks from your childhood to Michael, who splits his time between gazing out of the window and looking at you when you talk.

“That was my high school, which I thankfully have not been back to since the day I graduated.”

“You didn’t like high school?”

“Drama, strict schedules, and being a teenager in general? No, I didn’t really like it.”

Michael ponders that. “Hmm, our schooling experiences weren’t so different, then.”

“Really, the matching uniforms and bowties didn’t make everybody besties?”

“You’re never going to let me live down the picture I showed you of me in my school uniform.” It’s not a question–he knows the answer.

“Absolutely not.”

Somehow, the sight of the neighborhood where your family lives leaves Michael more awestruck than anything that he had seen today, and you realize that he probably hasn’t seen just a normal neighborhood before. After all, it’s impossible to ask the kids next door to come ride their bikes when;

You’re not allowed out of the house; and

The kids next door are dead

These streets, the houses all decorated with lights that will be twinkling as soon as dusk falls and smiling snowmen waving at passersby from some of the yards, are all things that Michael hasn’t experienced before. Michael has to tear himself away from the window to ask, “This is where you grew up?”

You nod. “Most of my friends’ families still live in the area too.”

Your dad pulls the car into the familiar driveway that you, yourself, have pulled into so many times before. Your family’s house is much smaller than the manor that you and Michael call home, and you almost feel a little embarrassed at the size before remembering that this is a different Michael from the one who looked over your apartment with disdain and told you that your taste in clothes could be so much better. This Michael almost has to be pushed along by you as you enter the house, so wrapped up in the domesticity of a home that an actual family lives in and makes their home is he.

Before you can get to your room to unpack, the telltale sound of claws scrabbling across the floor makes you grin. Michael looks up in alarm as the sound of barking gets closer, but you squeal when the golden retriever rounds the corner. “Bauer!”

“Bauer?” Michael repeats, watching you fall to your knees to embrace the dog.

“Oh my goodness, hello sweet boy,” you coo to the smiling dog, his tail wagging up a storm. “Did you miss me? I missed you!”

“You have a dog?” Michael asks.

You frown. “I’ve definitely shown you pictures of Bauer before.”

“I thought it was just a random dog, not yours.” Michael stares at Bauer apprehensively, as though he’s going to bite his hand the second you turn away.

“Michael, sweetheart,” your mom calls, and Michael’s eyes widen in what you’re worried is fear at the motherly tone in her voice, “he’s not going to hurt you.”

“I–I know.” He doesn’t know. In fact, you don’t think Michael’s ever actually interacted with a dog before.

“Bauer!” your dad calls before whistling for him, and Bauer goes running across the living room towards him. “Y/N, why don’t you show Michael to the guest room.” Your dad looks at Michael sharply. “Where he’ll be staying. In a different room than yours.”

“C’mon.” You grab Michael’s hand and walk with him down the hall. “This is my room,” you point to yours before moving your finger in the direction of the door next to yours, “and here’s the guest room. We’re right next to each other, don’t worry.”

Michael pulls you into the guest room, silently shutting the door behind you. “Your father definitely hates me.”

“Hmm, and here I thought I was being dramatic,” you remind Michael of his earlier words, and he grimaces. “Michael, Dad doesn’t hate you. He’s just trying to scare you by intimidating you. He did the exact same thing to my brother-in-law the first time he visited, too.”

Michael simply groans before dropping his head onto your shoulder, and you laugh while embracing him.

“And here I thought the Antichrist wasn’t scared of anything.”

#mad love musings #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine

22 notes · View notes

ncitygirls · 3 years

Text

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

#jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct au #ncitygirls

201 notes · View notes

miceenscene · 3 years

Text

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

taglist: @kelenloth ; @darnitdraco ; @gracie7209 ; @616wilsons ; @icanbeyourjedi ; @astroboots ;

#frankie morales #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #my writing #ttds

82 notes · View notes

palimpsessed · 3 years

Text

Writerly Ephemera

I was tagged by @amywaterwings @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @effing-numpties @captain-aralias @bloodiedpixie . This is so cool, so thanks for sharing yours! ❤️

Per Amy: We add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

I don’t really feel like I put much of my own experiences into my fic, probably because I don’t feel like I have a lot of experiences to pull from. (That’s not me being self-deprecating; that’s me never going anywhere or doing anything.) So, let’s see what we come up with!

Going to tag here. I feel like I’ve gotten to this late so I’m not sure who has been tagged. Anyway. No pressure, loves. Just saying hi. 🥰 @theflyingpeach @bazzybelle @otherworldsivelivedin @unseelieseelie @wetheformidables @caitybug @nightimedreamersworld @foolofabookwyrm @stillmadaboutpetra

1. I have put the most of myself into A Man of Letters. I have my degree in English Lit and when I was in college, I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. So I sort of built my degree around the development of the English novel. My senior thesis was on a book called Evelina by Frances Burney, who was one of Austen’s greatest literary influences. Evelina is an epistolary novel—told entirely in letters. I love the epistolary form, for the same reason I love dialogue and texting fics. It’s such a fun narrative technique and can reveal so much about individual characters. It’s actually a bit like the way Rainbow Rowell uses multi POV in her books. Anyway, my love of the epistle was on full display in this fic, which is ofc told in letters. —Do I share a passage? That’s like...the whole fic 😅 So, idk. Here’s Simon being a disaster as he meditates on letter writing:

Dear Penny,

As I start this letter, I already know I'm not going to post it. I know I won't be able to bring myself to do it, because of what I have to say to you. I do feel bad. It's not that I don't want to tell you. And you know I'm so much better at writing things down than saying them out loud. It's only that I feel like this would all sound better coming from me in person. I just don't think I'll be able to make you understand in a letter. I'm still trying to understand myself. And writing all of this down helps me with that. Even if I'm only pretending to write to you, it makes me feel better, to think of you on the other end. I promise I really will tell you everything as soon as we're together again.

2. Also for A Man of Letters, my fascination with Regency fashions, in particular the dandy, was a major factor. I did an art book about this, comparing how fashion has changed over time, especially in regard to gender. (I also did an art book based on Evelina, since I’m on the subject. I minored in book art. 😁) I always fancied the look of a Regency dandy, so that was my gift to Baz.

Whoever has been working their magic on Salisbury should in fact be the person to whom I offer my eternal devotion. Alas, I am left to flounder under the burden of lusting after a man who is incapable of dressing himself.

The utter and unmitigated shame.

Salisbury wore a forest green wool frock coat that set off the golden highlights in his brown locks. This was accented with a green and aubergine striped silk waistcoat that was trimmed in white piping and felt much too daring a pattern for the man. (I don't care if he was a soldier; it takes a hardier man than him by half to choose a stripe like that.) His charcoal trousers were enticingly snug, but not so much to prove lethal. His cravat and points left much to be desired, though that likely reflected poorly on his ability to keep himself in order, rather than the ability of his valet. (Good God, maybe the man doesn't even have a valet!)

3. When it came to my countdown fic, To the Manor Borne, I had Shep make a reference to Cluedo, because Pitch Manor would be perfect for a real life game. Behind that, is the fact that my family played a lot of Clue and I watched the movie a whole bunch growing up, to the point where my sister and I used to quote it to each other. This was a way to pay homage to that. He also talks about playing the game Murder in the Dark, which was one I played at Halloween as a kid. One of my cousins was dressed as a ghoul with glow in the dark face paint and we were in my grandma’s creepy upstairs. Perfect vibes.

I’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room and the library and the study and the parlor. Walking through this house is like playing Clue. (They call it Cluedo on this side of the pond, because they like to be difficult.) (That was a whole thing. Do not get me started.)

I keep thinking Colonel Mustard’s going to pop up out of nowhere and brain me with a lead pipe.

And:

What kind of games do you play with magickal friends who don't have magic? Twister? Not with the wings and tail. Cards? Baz and Penny would cheat. Or accuse everyone else of cheating if they didn't win. Murder in the dark? With these people, in this house, I knew it would turn literal fast, and also it was like ten in the morning. Hide and seek? Simon and I would hide and everyone else would ditch. Snowball fight? World War III.

4. I’ve referenced Mozart in my fics a couple of times because when I was first getting into classical music, I was listening to a lot of Mozart. My sister had a CD of some of his early symphonies, and my local classical station does “Mozart in the Mornings” which happened to fit in the exact time slot between two morning classes I had my first year in college. I’d go sit in my car with a cup of tea, and just vibe with Mozart as my soundtrack. I’ve name dropped him in both A Man of Letters and To the Manor Borne. Also, Mozart wrote 12 variations on the melody shared by Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which is a lovely tie in. (I also had the gang sing/cast The Holly and the Ivy, which is one of my favorite Christmas carols, and by strange coincidence was playing on the radio at the same time I wrote that scene. 🥰)

"It's a songbook," I tell him, like he can't figure that out for himself. "Did you know that Mozart wrote twelve different versions of the same song?"

He's laughing. "Mozart did not write Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Simon."

"You know what I mean."

"He composed twelve variations for solo piano on the French folk melody Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman."

"Sure. Anyway, this is for the violin. For you to play."

He's still laughing, and I'm trying to figure out what's so funny, but then he kisses me again, on the lips this time, so I figure maybe I'm still doing okay.

Only one more to go! What will it be? 👀

5. Therapy! Eheheh...😅 Look, it’s no secret the gang needs it. And tbh, so do I. Haven’t actually managed to get myself to go yet, and I think that’s where a lot of my “send them to therapy” happy endings come from. I did it in Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne. I started Chamber by Chamber with SnowBaz already in therapy, and then structured the whole thing around therapy that they give to each other and to themselves. It didn’t really fit in A Man of Letters, but if it had, I absolutely would have done it. I’ve only shared from two fics so far, and since it could kind of spoil the ending to Use Your Words (tho saying this may be spoiler anyway...), here are two snippets from It’s a Kind of Magic, Part I of Chamber by Chamber.

I've been working on articulating my needs. We both have. Ordinarily, I'd be afraid of pushing him away by making demands when he's on the verge of a spiral, but my therapist insists that I can't go on treating Simon with kid gloves. If I never ask him for anything, he'll think he doesn't have anything to give.

And

When I told that to my therapist, she said that I needed to talk it out of me and she'd help me find ways to work through it all. She said I needed to talk it out with Baz, too, so that he'd know how to help me when things got bad again—that was something else she said, that things would get bad again, and that I'd need to be prepared for that. That I couldn't expect things to be easy, and just go away.

6. BONUS! I think the biggest way I include bits of myself is in the AUs I’ve chosen to write. I have three I’m planning that say a lot about me, so I’m going to talk a bit about them here. There is ofc my Scooby Doo AU, inspired in large part by the fact that I watched it all the time growing up and also, my sister continues to be obsessed with it. When we were young, my parents were doing a lot of work on their house and we’d take family trips to the hardware store. My sister and I hated it, so we’d wait in the car with my mom and she would entertain us with “Scooby Doo stories”. Other AUs I’m planning? Troop Beverly Hills—please tell me someone else out there loved this movie the way I did when I was 5. It was very influential to baby me and I remember wishing for nothing more than being able to dress like Shelley Long. So, I’m going to let Baz do it, because I think he deserves it. 🥰 Lastly, tho it will probably be the first I write, is my Cupid and Psyche AU, from when I was heavy into mythology and religion. Since these are all forthcoming projects, I don’t really have a snippet. Instead, here’s Baz comparing Simon to Eros, which is what started my brain on that particular AU.

I am lost. I barely know anything about Salisbury, but I can't help being drawn in. At one time, I could have comforted myself that I was only so smitten with him because he looks like he was sculpted by Praxiteles. That excuse grows weaker with every encounter. He's the furthest thing from a lifeless tribute to beauty in marble as one can be. There is something deep and dark and feral inside of him and I want to claw it out. I want to see it, to let it free. To taste his wildness and his pain.

#tag game #writerly ephemera

25 notes · View notes

bearsfakedthemoonlanding · 2 years

Text

when i visit home i am forcibly detransitioned...

...which feels very silly, at this point. they know who i was, and they can see me now. it's odd to combine the tenor voice and the jaw and the mannerisms and the jeans and button ups and the boots, add that all together and still decide "female" when i'm telling them outloud and to their face that i'm something else.

ah well.

this could pull us into the conversation of "well women can be all of those things!" which is fully true. i have met women more masculine than i could ever dream to be, old butches and farmhands and factory workers and mechanics and football players who made me feel safe and whole and real. once an older woman with a cropped haircut and a firmly buttoned plaid shirt whistled at me in the home depot and asked if i wanted a job as a pool boy, and i know she saw me in the most accurate rendition of my gender, and also i remain endlessly flattered to this day. i've also met cis men far more feminine than myself, gay straight and everything else. a wasted military queen who tried to take me home with him saying, "plastic or flesh, baby, gay sex is gay sex."

now i'm just bragging about the older people who've tried to sleep with me... words out, boys, i'm a trollop. let me back track.

i'm not saying that i'm not a woman because of the way i present or the things that i do, i'm just saying that with people who rely so heavily on the gender binary, the fact that they're seeing everything i do outwardly and hearing the confessions straight from my mouth and still settling on "darling girl beautiful daughter" is bizarre.

anyways. i'm sure i've lost you all at this point. the point of this story is that i am forcibly detransitioned every time i go home. my parents are having none of my "nonsense," which is a hill i've decided not to die on, and anyone who knows them respects their wishes and follows suit. that is also... fine. the gender i have going on is a bit too complicated to go explaining to my grandmother's bartender or the cousin i only see twice a year, but it's still strange to get misgendered so adamantly.

my partner and i spent christmas home with my family, a house all to ourselves and free reign of the state. my girlfriend is absolutely precious, short, friendly, wildly-confident. she wears her hair cut short in a way that i think resembles bucky barnes very much, and in the past few years has taken to wearing more men's clothing than anything else. she's more confident than i am in public, more assertive too. she reaches for my hand. we race each other to hold open doors. we take turns buying each other drinks, she slips her hand casually into my back pocket, i bat my eyelashes at her until she kisses me, she sends me off to fetch us things, she pays on the juke box and i ask her to dance. we kick gender roles around like a hot potato

i've seen writers i adore describing this as butch4butch and nothing more accurately describes what we have going on.

so the story, right. my girlfriend and i are home for christmas, and we spend the evening in the bar my mom and grandmother frequent. it's a local vfw and i was practically raised in it. used to run wild back before they changed the laws about kids being in public spaces filled with cigarette smoke.

i'm in this bar, and i'm "francine's kid," and everyone insists i'm a girl. my grandmother is furious that the two of us are there, because there's no painting our situation as anything but queer. my mom is delighted that we're stirring up trouble, because the only time she's not tormented by my whole situation is when i'm causing the type trouble that's fun to watch.

so me and my girl are bopping around in this tiny local bar, catching ugly glances from a few of the men nearby, more curious and gobsmacked stares than anything else. we decide to play pool. i have no idea how to play pool. she says she'll teach me. i can't even hold the que correctly, and we're making a full ruckus out of it. hollering at each other, bantering back and forth. she stands behind me and places her hands over mind, showing me how to hold the stick properly. swats at me with her que when i do something stupid on purpose.

a single game takes us at least 45 minutes because we're both terrible, and we're grateful to abandon the table at the end of it. we switch to darts, being just as obnoxious over there, but far better at the game. we take the jukebox and dance to cheesy country songs that make us both teary eyed, the types of songs that we sing at the tops of our lungs on road trips. we settle at the bar and we hold hands in public and she's trying to outdrink my mother and ends up half-collapsing on my shoulder.

we've turned the place into a proper dyke bar, something we announce to ourselves and cackle over. i'm sipping plain coke, she's swirling something fruity and fun and loaded with rum.

when the night is coming to an end i'm the only sober person left in our group, attempting to wrangle my mom, grandmother, and partner out the door and to the car. it's a lot like my DD trips as a teenager, except my girlfriend is far more reasonable than my family ever has been and kisses me on the cheek every so often, so it's not too bad.

we're getting out the door when my grandmother pauses us at an elderly couple. she announces to them, "Oh! Oh! You have to meet my granddaughter, [birthname]!" she motions to me, and the older woman politely says hello. her husband isn't quite on board with this, and he looks at myself, at my partner, and then at my mom. he nods to my mom and says something like, "ah, her?" and my grandmother corrects him, directs him to me, and says "no, it's her."

this man looks me up and down and shakes his head. says, "nah... no way. this young man isn't your granddaughter."

and when i tell you that 90 year old man made my entire week. misgendered relentlessly by everyone, seen properly by some ancient stranger in a VFW who refused to play the game everyone else was playing.

i love this encounter for a lot of reasons. family is family, and mine aren't changing, but i don't have to feel as uncomfortable as i once did. that can apply to a number of things, with them. my partner and i were fully absorbed in each other, able to easily ignore the faces people were pulling around us. we were clearly and loudly queer without trying and without apologizing. we felt so easy and authentic, and we repainted a place that had a lot of loaded feelings from my childhood.

in that evening i was everything that i am. a daughter. a strange young man. a dyke. a lover. good at darts and terrible at pool. responsible. caring. driving everyone home. i felt sturdy and real and controversial and, somehow, very safe.

i like feeling this type of complexity. i like the simplicity of being labeled by strangers. i like that i can be everything that i am, and i like that who i am can change. it just makes me happy.

#queer #nonbinary #genderqueer #transmasc #childhood story #family #gay love

3 notes · View notes

janicho88 · 4 years

Text

In This Together Part 3

Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader

Word count- 5821

Summary-Find out what these two have been up to for the last year. What obstacles are thrown at these two now?

Warnings- Possible sick reader, hospital/doctors, little language, little angst, fluff, implied smut, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy.

A/N-This is the third part of my first fic. It started as a oneshot but turned into more. The first part of this story was written, because I needed someone like Dean at the time. This miniseries I guess you can call it, is very personal to me. I’ve lived a majority of the first two parts. If you’ve read it you can see why I wanted someone like Dean to lean on. In this part I wanted to give the reader something I don’t know if I’ll ever have. Thank you for reading! Pictures found on google.

Part 1 Part 2

11 months later August 2021

Slowly opening your eyes back up, you were staring out the window of your fourth-floor hospital room. This time your window looked over the street below, every time you were on this floor you had a different view. Dean was still sitting in the bed next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder as you thought back on the last year and everything that had happened.

October 2020 came around and your doctor let you go off your birth control. He knew you and Dean were trying, or more not trying to stop anything from happening. You knew nothing would happen right away and didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were also trying to stay positive that nothing was going to go wrong with you again. You were due a win.

You had been back to work for about four months now, there were still some things you were trying to get used to at the new store. Because of the two surgeries you could wear down easily and were mostly five days a week trying to get up to six. You had already rearranged the office and some of the shelves in the kitchen area to make it more efficient, but some of your employees kept moving things on you so you had to redo them. It would take a good year for your foot to be back to normal which was February, but it would never be pain free. As long as it was better than before you were happy.

Halloween was coming close and Sam and Jess invited you over to their house again. Since you and Dean didn’t have any other plans you decided to join them along with Dean’s parents. Jake’s costume this year was an adorably fierce lion.

With things still crazy in the world and covid still around there weren’t many trick or treaters. Unfortunately, this meant more candy for Dean. Being a Saturday night Dean didn’t have to work the next morning. and you went in later on Sundays, so you stayed for a while. After Jake went to bed the guys turned on the, All Saint’s Day, movies Dean loves. They weren’t exactly your favorite so at least he could try and drag Sam into his madness this way. Dean was enjoying his brother being a bit more into Halloween now that he had Jake around. You bid them goodnight just before midnight and took your sugar high husband home, he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

Thanksgiving was late again this year, so your parents had decided like last year to do their Christmas party the week before Thanksgiving again. Even though you were working less this year you somehow got distracted and got to planning late. This meant the first two and half weeks of the month would be filled with baking. The nice thing about the store you took over was the regular oven it had so you could do some of it there. Although first things first, you had to assemble your as baking list. The night after Halloween you were sitting on the couch with the Hallmark Channel playing its Countdown to Christmas. Computer in front of you with Pinterest pulled up. Dean walked in from the kitchen during a commercial.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you up to? Anything good on?”

“Nine Lives of Christmas, is on. I’m looking..”

“No, Seriously Y/N? It’s the day after Halloween, and you’re watching Christmas movies?”

You turned and glared at him. “One, I have been watching Christmas movies whenever you weren’t around for the last week. Two, you like this one so hush. The guy is a fireman, your missed profession. Three, I’m trying to get into the Christmas mindset to put together my baking list.”

“Oh great, it’s that time of the year again. What crazy ideas are you going to come up with this year, actually wait, let me grab a beer first.”

You laughed as he walked back to the kitchen. Dean might give you a hard time with the Christmas crazy baking list you come up with, but you also know he very much enjoys the sweets you bake. You two had been dating since your freshman year of college and he was always your official taste tester. Although anything pie related was his favorite.

“I think I’m going to just do round sugar cookies again, while I was off after surgery, I watched a cookie decorating class that showed how to paint the frosting with food coloring and alcohol.”

“That sounds like a mess,” you threw a pillow at him. “I mean great Sweetheart, I’m sure they will be amazing.”

“Keep talking Winchester, see how big a hole you can dig. Here’s a recipe for mini pie like cookies, I co”

“Yes!”

“..uld try. Okay, adding to the list https://www.pinterest.com/pin/518406607102183606/

You were bound and determined one year you would get these cupcakes done; just not sure this year would be it. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/

“How about Christmas Cheesecake Cookies?” You showed Dean the picture and this time he glared you. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040791076/

“Do you remember the red and green Krinkle Cookies you did last year? Your hands were dyed red and green and so was everything you touched while rolling them. I’m voting no more dyed cookie dough.”

“Fine spoilsport.”

“How about you put the computer away and come to bed with me.”

“You’re heading to bed already it’s only, oh. Be right there Babe,” quickly shutting everything off you chased after your husband to the bedroom.

The party was a little smaller this year, some people still weren’t all for getting together with people yet. It was mostly family and some close friends. Honestly, you preferred it that way, less entertaining you and your mom had to do, and the more you could relax and enjoy the night. The best part about having this early, was your baking was now done, you had even gotten Dean to get the decorations out and most of the house was done. You enjoyed cuddling on the couch with the Christmas lights glowing around you.

Thanksgiving was once again split between both of your families. You went to your dad’s mom for a late lunch and spent time with your family. Then headed over to John and Mary’s for well, for Dean dinner, you were still full, so you just picked at a few things. After cleaning you ladies joined the guys in the living room where they were watching the game and supposed to be keeping an eye on Jake. You and Jess talked sales you saw in the ads and tried to get gifts ideas out of Mary for her and John. Like your mom, she wasn’t very helpful and just said you guys didn’t have to get them anything. Usually you and your mom would hit a few stores tonight, but nothing was really open with everything going on. The two of you had planned for the next day to get a few things before you both headed for work. It was nice to spend time with just your mom anyways.

Every year December seems to fly by, it was the second week now and you had been feeling a bit off, and more tired than usual. According to Dean you had become a bit moody too. Which of course you snapped at him when he mentioned that. He’d been watching his step after that. One morning you were taking care of the dogs when you felt sick and had to run to the restroom. You didn’t go into work that day, since you didn’t want to get anyone else sick, but felt fine as the day went on. The next day at work you walked into the cooler and for some reason the dough smelled strong to you and you had to walk back out and get some fresh air. You attributed it to yesterday’s stomachache. Then the burping started again. Donna heard you at work and came over.

“What’s going on lady?”

“Something’s off, I haven’t been feeling well, I started throwing up and the burping restarted.”

“You know what you need to do right?”

“I know, but really Donna, can’t I catch a break. I don’t know how Dean is going to take it if the doctor tells me there is another problem, I don’t know how I’m going to take it.”

“Okay, well before we send you into the operating room again, maybe you should see what the doctor has to say first.”

“That would be the logical thing to do, I prefer worst case scenario.”

That night when you got home from work you told Dean what was going on and when you called your doctor’s office, they actually had an opening on Friday and could get you in then. Dean was unable to go since Benny would be leaving that morning for a weeklong trip to see his wife’s family for an early Christmas.

The day of your appointment arrived, the nurse, Julie that took you back was your cousin’s friend who first introduced you to this doctor. You two chatted on your way back to the room. When you got to the room, she asked what was going on and when your last period was. You explained your symptoms and how you were worried about another mass or fibroid. It had been over a month since your last, but you hadn’t been regular since your surgery and going off birth control. They took a blood and urine sample to send for tests before you saw the doctor. The doctor pushed near your uterus to see if he could feel any bumps around there. He wanted you to get an ultrasound, so that was scheduled for Monday, your labs would be done then also.

It was a quiet weekend for you and Dean. Monday rolled around and your appointment was that afternoon. Dean was supposed to meet you at the hospital, where the doctor’s office was located, but was stuck in a meeting with a new supplier. Since you were there for an ultrasound you were just supposed to see the tech who would do the test, but Julie was the one who came and got you. She took you back to the ultrasound room. When you were back, she told you the test results came back. You left the doctor’s office in a bit of shock after scheduling your next appointment. As you passed the mall on the way home you decided to make a quick stop.

That night during dinner Dean asked you what the doctor had to say. When he called you after your appointment you said you were fine and would talk to him at home you didn’t want to discuss it over the phone.

“I’m going to need follow up appointments for the next few months, but everything is good.”

“If it’s good why do you need follow ups, what aren’t you telling me?”

You got up and went to get the package you picked up from the mall, handing it to Dean you sat back down. He looked at you and back to the wrapped box.

“Open it.”

Ripping open the paper he looked at the open back and back to you. “Wait, what? Really?”

“Yes!”

You told Dean what happened at your appointment. The results came back, and you were pregnant. Because of your history though, the doctor still wanted an ultrasound just to make sure there wasn’t a fibroid or a mass there. They didn’t find any problems; the tech could just make out the embryonic sac the baby would be growing in. They figured you were around 5 weeks, and due around August 14th. Dean jumped up and grabbed you in his arms, tears were gathering in his eyes, he was so happy.

Later that night you were laying with Dean on the couch and he was going through his phone.

“Hey, the baby is about the size of an apple seed right now. An apple seed, that’s smaller than my fingernail!”

You looked over at his phone and saw he was going through baby sites. “Yes, that is tiny.”

“I can’t wait to see them in the activity walker car, they are going to love it like Jake does.”

“Dean, honey, you know we still have like 8 months till the baby is here, and then they aren’t going to be able to use that right away, right?”

“Yeah, well they still will one day.” He learned closer to your stomach, “right little on, can’t wait to play in the car walker daddy got you.” You had tears in your eyes watching Dean talk to your baby, you had been so afraid this day would never come.

Wiping your eyes, “I thought you said you bought that for Jake?” Knowing that was his excuse at the time, hoping one day it would by your child playing in it.

“Well, I, um,”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it.”

Sitting in the hospital bed you looked down at the little one in your arms, and still couldn’t believe how lucky you and Dean were to be here. Your mind went back to last year’s Holidays, and what happened after you found out you were pregnant.

The two of you debated on telling anyone about the baby yet, since it was early. As excited as Dean was you didn’t know how long he could keep the secret. You would only be seven weeks along at Christmas but decided to tell everyone Christmas Eve at your parents. You were going to tell them like you told Dean. You found some grandparent gifts for them to open. Since Sam had Jake it would be John and Mary’s second grandchild, but your parents first.

While playing games after dinner on Christmas Eve, you and Dean rigged a team game that had your parents all winning. Handing each of them the gifts you picked up Dean grabbed the camera to record their reactions. It took a minute before it sank in, but everyone was so excited for you. Mary and your mom rushed over to hug you while John and your dad congratulated Dean. The rest of the family joined in after the grandparents.

“The baby is the size of a blueberry now.” Dean proudly told everyone.

The two of you decided to have a quiet New Year’s Eve in. Your parents, Dean’s along with Sam, Jess, and Jake came over for dinner, and games. The guys ended up in the basement watching some competition, while you ladies were watching the New Year’s countdown and talking babies. On a trip upstairs Dean heard the conversation and informed everyone that the baby was now raspberry sized.

You had your 11-week ultrasound the Friday before Dean’s birthday. You scheduled it then because you thought it would be an early birthday treat for him getting to see the baby. They were going to confirm your due date, and there was a chance you would be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Dean looked over at you with a smile when you were walking up and threw his arm around your waist.

“What?”

“You’re starting to show, I can’t wait till I can feel him kick.”

“Remind me when this kid is playing soccer in me, how happy you are about it then.”

He put his arm around your waist as you walked. “Yeah, yeah, come on I can’t wait to see our little prune.”

“I can’t wait till next week, and we’re on a different food.”

Dean was so excited he could barely sit still in the office. They called you back and got you settled in the room before the tech came back to start. She started and was running the wand over your stomach when she found the baby and pointed him out to you. Dean grabbed your hand.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that’s our little one.”

“Yeah.” You both had tears in your eyes.

The tech turned on the volume so you could hear the heartbeat. “There it is, wait a minute.” She was moving the wand again.

“What’s going on?” You worriedly asked.

“There’s another heartbeat. Here, we have a shy one.”

Looking at the screen you saw another tiny dot.

“Wait, are you saying?” You looked over at Dean and he was looking at the screen it hadn’t hit him yet.

“Congrats, you’re having twins!”

“Wwwhat?” Dean finally tuned into the conversation.

“Happy Birthday weekend dad, you’re getting two babies!” Dean’s look of shock wasn’t one you would be forgetting anytime soon.

Leaving the doctor’s office, you both were a mix of shock, nerves and excitement. It was hard to tell which one was winning out right now. You had the family over to the house for Dean’s birthday on Sunday and you let him share the news with everyone. You also decided it was time to tell the rest of your friends.

You moved your gaze from the tiny bundle in your arms to Dean staring down at the tiny swaddled baby in his. Someone had Daddy completely wrapped around his finger. Sensing you watching him he looked up with a smile on his face. “Sweetheart, I can’t believe our babies are finally here, I can actually hold them and see them when I talk. You did so good,” he told you leaning over to kiss you. Dean had been constantly talking to the babies and trying to feel them kick before they were born. Ever since you got back to your room and the twins were brought in, he had one in his arms at all times, relishing in the fact he now could.

Dean wanted to go all out for Valentine’s Day this year. He said it was the last one with just the two of you, and last year it had been a week after your first surgery, so you just stayed home. Thankfully, you had a dress that had been fairly lose on you before, so you didn’t have to go find something new. Dean had reservations at a nice restaurant in town, where you enjoyed each other’s company and the food. You were beat by the end of dinner and headed home to cuddle on the couch. Dean was rubbing your stomach and talking to the babies while you watched a movie, you were running your hand through his hair.

“How are my babies doing tonight? Did you enjoy the nice dinner I took your mommy to? I can’t wait till I can meet you guys. A few more months, you have some growing to do. You guys are 14 weeks, that means you’re as big as lemons now. You would fit in the palm of my hand.”

The next month went by fairly quickly, both you and Dean busy with work. There were things around the house that would need to be done to get ready for the birth of the twins. It seemed like Dean was quickly lessoning what we would let you do without help so you wanted to get started soon before he had you completely sidelined. You had decided to turn your guest room into the nursery and move the spare bed into the office neither of you really used. You cleaned out some of the lighter things because you knew Dean would freak out on you if you moved anything heavy. One night you went through Pinterest looking for different ideas for the nursery before you rushed ahead with anything.

March 16th was your 6th wedding anniversary; you suggested a quiet night at home. Dean vetoed that since you stayed home last year, again because of you. He booked you a weekend stay at a bed and breakfast a little over an hour away near the beach. Being March, it was too cold to get in the water, but you spent time exploring the quaint little town and its cute shops. While you were walking the beach at sunset your first night you stopped to admire the view and Dean stood behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Babe. Thank you for doing this.”

“You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, you have always been so good to me, and you’re going to be such an amazing dad. These babies are lucky to have you.”

“I love spending time just the two of us, but I can’t wait to meet these sweet potatoes.”

“Really Dean?”

“What that’s what the website says for 18 weeks.”

The rest of the weekend went very well, the highlight would have to be the last walk on the beach you and Dean took before you headed home. When you had stopped and were looking out over the water you felt a flutter in your stomach, and a few minutes later another faint one. That’s when you realized it was the babies moving. You told Dean and he kept moving his hand around to try and feel it too but was unable. He was still excited because it meant he would be able to soon.

Easter was the first weekend in April, you split your time between your two families. Sam and Jess hosted this year. While you and Mary kept Jake busy the guys hid Easter eggs around the yard for him to try and find. There were only about ten, but it still took him a little while. He was more interested in playing with the colorful plastic egg then finding the next one. Dean stood beside you while Jess was helping Jake. His hand was on your stomach when he suddenly pulled it back.

“What was, wait was that?”

“Yeah, that was one of the babies kicking.”

“So awesome! I can’t wait till we are out there helping ours find eggs, take their first steps, holding them.”

“I think your order was a little backwards, but I know how you feel, Dean.”

You had a surprise to share with both of your families. A few days earlier you had gone for you third ultrasound. Since you already had the surprise of twins you decided to find out the genders. While you were sitting around talking after dinner you let Dean tell his family, you had told your earlier in the day. Jake was sitting in his lap when he started talking.

“Hey buddy, do you know how big your cousins are now?” Jake didn’t understand and just looked at his uncle. “They are the size of pomegranates.”

“Dean, Babe, he’s not even two yet, he doesn’t know what that is.”

“He’s Sam’s kid. Sam eats all kids of healthy shi.. stuff. I’m sure he has those around the house.” Sam just shook his head and glared at his brother.

“Do you think you want a girl or boy cousin to play with?”

Mary was looking between the two of wondering if this conversation was going where she thought. Jake never answered Dean no matter what he did to try and pull something out of him.

“How about one of each, what do you think about that?”

“Is that one you’re having?” Mary asked not being able to wait for any more of Dean’s game.

“Yep, we are having a boy and a girl.” Dean grinned proudly.

“Oh man,” Sam started, “a little girl is going to have you so wrapped around her finger.” They all congratulated you and Dean once more.

It was the second weekend in May and you really needed to get going on finishing the nursery or starting it. Who would have thought the hardest part was going to be picking a theme you and Dean could both agree on.

“Come on Y/N, what’s wrong with that idea?”

“Dean, I’m not letting your obsession with scaring your brother using clowns scar our children with a clown themed nursery. Not going to happen Winchester.” The mobile and matching blanket he found even creeped you out a little.

“How about race cars? No, I got it! Let’s paint Baby on a wall!”

“Um, nice thought. We were trying to keep it neutral remember? How about when they get older, and this little guy can appreciate cars almost as much as his daddy, you can do a car theme. Who exactly is going to paint Baby, or did you suddenly become Picasso?”

“I didn’t get to who was going to paint it yet in my planning. Fine we can do cars down the road. Where are your ideas?”

“You have already shot them down, you didn’t want to paint the chevron lines, the silver and blue was to girly.” You just shook your head and went back to looking. This was going just as well as picking out names.

Dean looked over at what you had pulled up. “I like that color.”

“Seriously?”

“What, I can’t like that?”

“No, I was asking do you seriously like it, because I do too?”

“Well we like it, but how about my little rutabagas?”

“Really Dean? Do you even know what that is?” mumbling something he turned back to his phone; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was looking up rutabagas. On the plus side you finally had the nursery plans worked out.

Jess, Mary and your mom threw you a baby shower the first weekend in June you were about 30 weeks now. They had the party at your parent’s house, this worked out nice for you since you lived closest to them and it would be easy to take things home. Dean and the guys could hang out at your house since they didn’t want to attend the party the whole time. Jake was almost 2 and very interested in the presents on the table. You all had to keep him from trying to climb up there. It was a great couple hours playing games and spending time with family and friends. Babies Winchester were spoiled greatly!

Dean did come down toward the end, you’re pretty sure though he just wanted food. You excitedly showed him the wonderful gifts people gave the babies and you. He eagerly described the nursery, told people how fast the baby was growing, and how they were now as big as cucumbers.

Your birthday was a few weeks later, and at 32 weeks you weren’t up to doing much for it. Your families came over to the house for dinner. Your parents and Mary had been around and helped with different projects in the nursery. John, Sam, Jess and your brother on the other hand hadn’t been over in a while, so they had not seen the nursey. Dean was eager to show them all

“This is where my little squashes will sleep.”

Jess looked at Dean and laughed, “It’s cute that you think they are going to sleep Dean.”

The majority of the nursery was done now. You had gone with the soft aqua color you both liked, along with white furniture and trim. You had gone with light grey and white chevron curtains and pillows to accent it, along with soft grey carpet.

The Winchester’s always did a big 4th of July BBQ, this year was no exception. Ever since Sam and Jess got married you rotated hosting it between the three of you. This year should have been yours and Deans’ but since you were 34 weeks along Mary graciously told you they would have it. The doctor had told you to really start taking things easier, so you were trying not to overdo it. Mary didn’t let you help much in getting ready for the party, but you did busy yourself in the kitchen at home making a few desserts and Dean’s favorite pasta salad. You were thankful for them taking over you hadn’t been getting much sleep and wouldn’t have had the energy to get everything done you would have wanted.

Dean was manning the grill talking with Sam, Cass, and Benny when you walked over to join him. You could hear him talking as you got closer.

“Right now they are about the size of butternut squash, although they could be slightly smaller cause it’s twins.”

“I could have sworn you called them squash a few weeks ago, or was that a nickname for them?” Sam asked his brother.

“A few weeks ago, they were squash, now they are butternut squash.”

“I wasn’t aware there were different squashes,” Benny added.

“You know Dean for someone with an aversion to vegetables I’m surprised by the number of them you have called your kids.” Sam teased his brother with a laugh.

“What will they be when they are born,” Cas asked.

“Babies, Cas, they will be babies.” Dean shook his head at his brother and friends catching sight of you waddling over. “And there is my beautiful wife, and mom to be.” Dean leaned down and gave you a kiss while his hand went to your stomach.

Night came and you were heading back to you seat next to Dean to watch the fireworks. When the first ones lit up the sky you could feel both babies start to kick, apparently, they were as big of fans as their dad. Dean moved you around on the bench so he was sitting behind you and could have his arms around you. When he felt the babies kick, he moved his hands around and started talking to them calming them right down. The last few weeks whenever they were really active at night Dean’s touch and voice were the only thing that would get them to settle down so you could get a little sleep.

They figured your due date was around August 14th, but since you were having twins, they would most likely be early. Because of your previous surgeries the doctor wanted you to have a C-section to avoid any issues. It wasn’t what you really wanted, but it was what was best. They scheduled that tentatively for Friday August 7th unless the babies had other plans. Which they did. You were laying on the couch Monday morning with some heat on your back to help with the pain you were having while Dean was getting ready for work. Just before Dean walked out you started to feel some cramping. You were fairly certain you were in labor now. Dean actually took it much calmer than you thought he would. He called the doctor’s office while you went to shower and change. When you came back, he had both you bag and the babies in the car, and called Benny to tell him he would need to handle the shop today.

Once you go to the hospital things were a bit of a blur. They checked you in, took you to a room to exam you and prep for surgery. Dean disappeared at one point and came back dressed in scrubs. Before you knew it, they were taking you back to the operating room Dean right beside you the whole time.

“It’s time to meet our pumpkins Sweetheart.”

You just looked over to him and laughed.

“It’s the last time I can say that.”

“I know Dean let’s go meet our pumpkins.” Dean smiled widely at you as you headed down the hall.

Dean was holding your hand and trying to keep you calm when the doctor asked if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. He did and came back to standing next to you with tears in his eyes as he watched a nurse take your screaming son. The doctor went back to work to get your little girl and Dean once again cut the cord. He was pushed out of the way quickly because she wasn’t breathing. The nurse who brought your son over said that could happen with C-sections and she should be fine. It seemed longer than the few minutes it really was before you and Dean heard her little cries fill up the room, both of you letting out a sigh of relief.

After recovering you were finally in your room with Dean and both of your babies. Your families were here and waiting for your okay to come meet the newest members. Dean proudly introducing the babies to the rest of the family.

“I would like you all to meet Patrick John and Sophia Allison. You spent a few days in the hospital Dean right beside you the entire time.

After everyone left your little family alone Dean sat down next to you on the bed holding Sophia, while you held Patrick. The two of you both lost in your own thoughts and the babies in your arms before you looked over to him drawing his attention to you.

Once you arrived home your mom and Mary took turns coming over to see if they could help you or just let you get some sleep. Dean had to go back to the shop but tried to be home as much as possible.

The twins were two months old and not sleeping well through the night which was leaving you and Dean exhausted. You were both working during the day, and the twins were waking each other up at night which had the two of you getting up each taking one of the babies. You told Dean that you would get up and he could sleep, but he just kissed you as he walked by saying you were in this together no matter what. One night you had finally got them calmed down early and both of you sank down on the couch. Dean asked if you wanted to watch anything on TV.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could follow along on anything right now, but the back of my eye lids. How about we head to bed before the little monsters wake us up?”

“Knew I married a smart woman.”

Just as you settled into bed you heard Patrick start crying, and then Sophia joined in.

“Seriously.” Dean grumbled.

As you were trying to calm both babies down Dean was playing on his phone. All of a sudden you head Samuel L Jackson voice reading Go the Fuck to Sleep. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cb0t9TUNLpg

“Seriously Dean?”

“What? They can’t understand and I completely agree with it.”

Much to your surprise the twins were starting to doze back off. If this actually worked, you weren’t sure if Dean would let you hear the end of it. This was the quickest they calmed down for you, and also the start of hearing this every night for the next four months.

Things weren’t always perfect, but they were perfect for you. You had an incredible husband who always supported you and two wonderful kids who would keep you both on your toes. No matter what happened good or bad you and Dean were in this together.

Thank you for reading! For now this store is complete.

Tag list @talesmaniac89 @deanwanddamons @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @katehuntington @malfoysqueen14 @anathewierdo @superfanficnatural @akshi8278 @sandlee44

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester

85 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal? For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies? Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know? Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to? Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car? Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder? Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath? I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal? Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat.

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? G.

What did you and your ex fight about most? It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs? Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses? Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms? Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself.

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10? Seafood.

What do you hope never changes? My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now?

Are you happy with your relationship status? Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for? Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love?

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around? Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart? Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet? No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No.

Do you believe in callings? Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

nowornever13587 · 4 years

Text

MCYT Oxenfree Chapter 1

Edward’s Island.

Fundy POV

“It used to be a military base. Then it became a ranching thing, then it was turned into an army thing, then it became a bird thing and a museum or whatever. Henry Fonda stationed here, I think, for a bit. Unless he was Navy.”

I listened to Tommy rattle on as I leaned on the rail of the ship. The salty smell of the ocean filled the overcast sky. But thankfully, it was only slightly cold. Just enough for a light jacket..

“Who’s Henry Fonda?” Eret asked, unaware that you should never ask Tommy questions when he’s explaining things. He had a tendency to not hear them.

“And around Christmas time, this little breakfast place used to sell these amazing polar bear sugar cookies…” Like normal, Tommy went on. I laughed to myself, peering back over the edge of the ferry for wildlife in the water.

“Hey,” Tommy poked me. “Are you still with us? You haven’t said anything for like… 10 minutes.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. My mind just drifted for a second.” I turned back, checking my watch. It was 8. Right on time.

“So, you all moved in?” Tommy continued to talk to Eret.

“Um, not really. I just got in this morning.” Eret chuckled.

“And how did Fundy’s mom meet your dad again?” Tommy was eager for gossip.

“They met on vacation in London. He got lost in a garden and thought she worked there.” Eret took it in good humor as we walked back in the boat.

I took the liberty of exploring the small craft. It wasn’t that old but still had that air to it. Slightly chipped paint and worn seats. How they got worn, I never understood. Only bird watchers and history nuts ever headed to Edward’s island anymore. Particularly not in the winter.

“Hey, there’s an old ship's wheel up here.” I called down to the others from the second story as I bent to read the placard. “It’s a replica from a… Portuguese caravel, it says.”

“Yeah! I think the Portuguese discovered the island? I dunno. I mostly slept through the maritime portion of history class.” Tommy shrugged.

“Says the kid who’s been ranting about the island for the past 18 minutes.” Eret teased. Tommy shot him a teasing glare as I came back down.

“So you guys just met tonight?” Tommy continued.

“Yeah, I was… I’d been out at school and the timing had just never worked out.” Eret shrugged.

“And what does that make you to the Furry? Second cousin or something?”

“Step bro and I am not a furry!” I groaned

“Yeah, yeah! At least you seem cool!” Tommy laughed. “Cool guy, cool eyes. You get a cool new sibling living right in your house! Wearing your clothes… eating your food ... Sharing your toothbrush.”

“Ew!” We both grimaced. The conversation dipped awkwardly.

“So… how do you two know each other?” Eret prompted us.

“Oh, from way back when, like paleozoic. Grade school era.”

“I moved from the Netherlands in the first grade and Tommy was the one I got partnered with on the first day.”

“Passengers,” Suddenly the robotical intercom kicked on, nearly scaring me out of my skin. “We’ll be arriving soon. Check under your seat-”

“Check under your seat to make sure you don’t leave behind any grandchildren.” Tommy commented over the recording sarcastically.

“And if you picked up a complimentary disposable radio, remember to tune to 102.3 at the various plaques…” It droned on.

“Ooh! We should get a picture!” Tommy suddenly stood, dragging Eret and I back to the bow of the ferry.

“Fine. Just… hold the camera out. Like… far. I don’t look my freshest right now.” I told Tommy as he pulled out his phone. I ran a hand over my ears, trying to smooth down my fur that had puffed up due to the humidity.

“It’s true, Eret. This is like B Minus Fundy.” Tommy grinned.

“Take the picture you child!” I nudged him.

“I am not a child!” Tommy retorted while holding out the camera. We all smiled as the audible click came from the phone.

“There! Great. I’ll magic erase all the warts out and stuff, so don’t worry.” Tommy checked over the photo.

Eret made a face at the mention of warts and rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Furry. Did you remember to bring that radio? The little portable one?” Tommy piped back up.

“Yeah.” I sighed, ignoring the comment as I took the object out my pocket.

“Our high school has a radio station and Finn- he’s a friend of ours- he’s filling in because TapL went on vacation with his family or something.” Tommy explained as I began twisting the knob to find the station. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s gonna say something like… basically right now about our thing so…”

We all intently listened to the radio as I found the right station, 88.3.

“... Which I played because Karl wouldn’t stop singing it during math class!” Finn seemed to be talking about the song that was just on. “But… oh! Look at the time! Just after ten o’clock. Which means my dear friend Tommy and his bros are probably just touching down on Edwards island for the yearly bash on the beach…. Or whatever we call it now.”

“But anyways, I promised him that I’d play a song from his channel, so hope you're tuned in, Tommy! Here’s Able Sisters- Sable and Mable from Animal Crossing. He’s been tormenting me to play it for ages so here. Please stop.”

The familiar song came on. I groaned quickly, shutting it off.

“Haha!” Tommy crowed. “I finally got him to do it!”

His victory rant was cut off as the ferry’s horn blasted above us.

“There’s no radio reception on the island.” Tommy continued. “I’m glad I got to hear it before it went totally kaput.”

“If we can’t use it, why’d you bring it? Not just for the boat?” Eret inquired.

“Um, no. You’ll see. Don’t expect too much but… nah. It’ll be fun. I won’t undercook it.” Tommy waved his hands mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

We all shut up as the boat began nearing the dock. The old man running the ship helped us get off, before pulling away again.

“Oh boy! Smell that clean air, lads! This ain’t city livin’!” Tommy gestured to the now dark heavens. “My other friends should be up around the bend.”

“Actually,” Eret said nervously, waiting at the top of the dock stairs. “I mean, I don’t mean to be the guy to break us up already, but Tommy, could you do me a favor? Can I have two quick minutes with Fundy?”

“Uh… you sure?” Tommy hesitated. I glanced back up at Eret. The older boy seemed sincere.

“Something wrong?” I wondered.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute.” Eret glanced at the street light above.

“Alright, but- Look, I don’t wanna go up by myself. I mean, can’t we just stick together? You’re gonna have all night to say, like… whatever.” Tommy pleaded, using his puppy dog eyes.

“But you were going to meet your friends, right?”

“Yeah but there further-”

“Tommy, it’s alright. Just wait for us at the end of the town, okay? We’ll catch up with you there.” I reasoned.

“Alright.” Tommy sighed, walking off. “Though this is a really strange way to start off, splitting up.”

“Thanks man!” Eret called after him, before turning to me. “He seems nice. Funny.”

“Yeah, he’s… what did you want to talk about? Before I suspect something nefarious.” I teased, coming back to the top of the stairs.

“Listen, I just wanted to grab you ahead of time and say you’ve been…. Cool… about everything. And I guess it’s just - for me, I’ve never moved anywhere, ya know? And, like, getting a new family at the same time kinda feels like I’m skipping the training wheels.”

“Not that it’s bad! You and your mum have been great!”

“Eh, we’ll make do.” I nudged Eret playfully. “Lemons, lemonade, however that goes.”

“You idiot.” Eret and I laughed.

“Oh, thanks for setting up the attic for me, by the way. It’s cool, how it’s a little bedroom.”

“No problem…” I looked at the dark water. I really didn’t want to touch that subject. “It’s nice, at night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Not chilly.” Eret nodded. “We can- we can catch back up with Tommy now. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

We walked down the stairs into the parking lot. Commenting on the lonely car, I noticed a blocked off road. I decided to ignore it in favor of heading up the long staircase to the little shops that made the town of the island.

“Oh, what’s that?” Eret pointed at the statue as we reached the top. A bird on a pedestal with a whale below it.

“I forgot this was even here.” I chuckled. “It’s a monument to some submarine that was sunk off the coast.”

“Oh, wait. Can’t you do that radio guide thing like the boat said?” Eret looked excited. “I wanna see how it works.

“Sure.” I pulled the thing out of my pocket.

“It was…. 101 or 102, I think.”

I found the station. The voice of some tour guide came on.

“Named after the Hawiian god of the sea, the USS Kanaloa was launched on January 15, 1941 and commissioned into service at the end of that year under the command of Lt. C. Dream...”

“Never heard of this before. Kinda creepy in a way, right?” Eret murmured.

“On October 28, 1943, it was sunk by the Japanese sub chaser Tokisada some 25 miles off the coast of Washington…”

“Yeah, I hate thinking about it. It reminds me of those scenes in movies where sailors have to seal somebody up to drown or else the flooding will take the whole ship, you know?” I shivered at the idea.

“... and remains, to this day, the only submarine casualty in American waters. Eighty-five officers, as well as twelve Army passengers, were lost.”

“Yeah, no. I always thought submarine duty was, like, the worst possible war assignment. There’s no way out if something goes wrong.”

I turned off the radio as the recording began again. We continued through the town. All the stores were closed. Probably because it was starting to become winter and we took the last ferry here.

“Hello kids. The other guys and gals must be further up, so be quick now.” Tommy’s voice suddenly called from the top of a ramp. We laughed, running up to him.

“Okay, speed-read definition of Edwards Island. This is a tourist trap with shops and beach. Nobody lives here except some geriatric named Mr. Halo. But, cross my heart and hope to die, we’ll never mention him or any other old person’s name again.”

“We are here to drink and be stupid. A tradition apparently started by bored recruits in the nineteen fifties who would sneak dates over from the coastal towns. They literally called it ‘trawling’.”

“Wow, interesting.” I lightly mocked. Eret snorted behind me.

“Yeah, like kids at camp or something.” Tommy shrugged. “So, to summarize, we are not allowed here after dark. The town is shut down, and we - the L’manberg High Junior Class- have come to commit improper acts.”

We came to a fence just taller than me. I frowned, glancing at Tommy.

“The beaten path officially ends here. The beach is past the fence a way. I think Nikki told me that there’s a way that they used to get over there, but… I can’t remember how. I mean, can’t be too difficult.” Tommy looked around.

“Dumpster?” Eret pointed to the relatively empty bin sitting by the edge of the path.

“Perfect, we can push it over and close the lid.” I got beside him and helped.

“And the other thing about this nowhere island,” Tommy stayed back to finish his story. “Is the weirdo caves.”

“The weirdo caves?” Eret echoed incredulously.

“The whole reason Fundy brought the radio is because when you go to the- it’s like ‘front’--

“The mouth.” I supplied.

“The mouth of this particular cave, you can sometimes pick up frequencies to stations that don’t exist.” Tommy grinned. “You’ll hear voices or just... sounds… And they’re impossible to get anywhere else on the island. Crazy, right?”

“It’s, um, it’s pretty creepy… at least I’ve heard.” Eret and I managed to get the dumpster into place.

“I did it once. It’s amazing when it works.”

“Okay, back up a minute here. What about that Mr. Halo guy? Is he the saint for the island or something?” Eret looked back at the town below us.

“His family, I think, like owns or owned some of the island or something… he’s been shackled in the same spot for like seventy years. He’s kind of what you’d call a local legend. His house is on the other side of the woods.”

“I can’t imagine living in the same exact house looking at the same exact wall for that long a time.” I climbed up the dumpster and hopped over the fence. The other two joined me a heartbeat later.

We walked down the path, finding the trail that dipped down to the beach.

“Oh, before we get there, I should mention-”

Tommy was cut off by laughter.

“Who’s that?” Eret asked from behind me.

(Sorry if it's too long. But I shall try to post the next chapters every few days or so. Each should be around this long.)

#tommyinnit #the eret #eret myct #fundy minecraft #fundylive #tommy mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #oxenfree #oh this is going to be fun #youll see whos who over time #no ships btw #badboyhalo #i can't believe i nearly forgot bad #mcyt oxenfree

20 notes · View notes

theatresweetheart · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you want more prompts (especially not prinxiety ones because you probably have a hella ton of them) but I can't help it, your writing is so wonderful! What about "Fake Dating"?

Seasons Greetings

Warnings: Miscommunications, misunderstandings, anxious thoughts/feelings, self-deprecation, swearing.

Pairings: Pre-Romantic Prinxiety

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Ophelia (OC)

Word count: 1792 words

——————————

“Yes Mum, I’m still coming out for Christmas.”‌

Roman tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear while he slipped the dishrag back onto the handle on the stove, fixing it so it hung just right.

“…Nana’s been asking, what?…My boyfriend? Mum, I‌ don’t have a boyfriend…Oh. Oh. Oh, no, no!‌ Mum, that wasn’t a date! He just wanted me to go with him to the gallery where his art was being showcased, it was not a date…Nana thinks what?…that he’s coming too? No. He is not coming because we are not dating, he’s my roommate, nothing more nothing less—”

Roman let the phone slip so he could readjust it. He leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair.

“—No, Mum, I can’t just ask him to come stay with the family for Christmas…why not? Because that’d be awkward and weird of me since we’ve never done that before, that’s why not!…No, he’s not going home or anything…frame it as if I’m just wanting to bring him home for Christmas just so he doesn’t have to spend holidays alone?…It wouldn’t make sense, not with Nana asking if he’s my boyfriend constantly, he’d be super suspicious…act the part? Mum, I’m a good actor, but even I don’t even think we could pull that off.”

The sound of the front door of the apartment opening and closing caught his attention. Roman’s eyes met Virgil’s as the other man made his way into the kitchen with his arms full of grocery bags.

They shared a nod without words needing to be said. It was probably better that way anyway.

“Mum, no. Mum. I’m not going to ask, so just tell Nana that she’s going to have to be disappointed this year…I‌ guess…Or, I‌ could just pretend that he couldn’t make it, easy enough, right?”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder as he put the milk into the fridge, meeting Roman’s gaze again. ‘Is that your mom?’ He mouthed. He was answered with a nod, and Virgil smirked. ‘Tell her I say hi.’

Roman stuck his tongue out at his roommate, only to have Virgil return the gesture. “…yes, he just got in from the grocery run. Oh, he says hi, by the way.” There was static laughter on the other side of the receiver before she started talking again. Roman pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Mum says hi back, Virgil.”

Virgil gave him a thumbs up.

“Mum…okay!‌ Okay, I‌ get it, I’ll ask.” There was a moment of quiet as Virgil turned to face him, arms crossed, eyebrow quirked. He already knew something was up, of course he did. “Mum was wondering if you wanted to spend the holidays with us this year.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, obviously not expecting that of all things. “Oh.. uh, I‌ dunno. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Both boys heard the sound of Roman’s mother getting more vocal at that. Because this conversation now seemed to be between the three of them, Roman put her on speaker. Telling her briefly, before clicking the button.

“Virgil, honey, you most certainly would not be imposing!” Ophelia said, “especially not since I‌ insist you come and stay with us. Roman told me you were going to be staying at the apartment all by yourself. And that is certainly no way to spend Christmas.”

Roman could see the crimson beginning to paint Virgil’s pale features. “Ah geez, I mean, if you insist I‌ wouldn’t be a—y’know, a burden. Ro tells me just how extravagant and busy your Christmases are and I‌’d hate to get in the way.”

“You wouldn’t get in the way,” Roman told him, “my little cousins?‌ Now they get in the way.”

“Roman, be nice,” Ophelia chided her son through the phone, only both Roman and Virgil could hear the smile in her voice. “As…rowdy as they can be, you were once that age too. And just as much in the way as any other little kid.”

“Get roasted,”‌ Virgil smirked.

Roman stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation.

“So?”‌ Ophelia paused after a moment, her voice sounding hopeful, “would you be interested in spending the holidays with the Alvaros?”

Virgil’s eyes flickered between Roman and the phone. He then let out a soft sigh. “I’d be happy to,” he then motioned over his shoulder. “I should probably get packing then, since you’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Don’t stress too much about it,” Roman told him with a casual wave of the hand, offering a reassuring smile, “Mum won’t mind if we get there a little later. It’s no big deal. Speaking of Mum, we still have a few more things to discuss.”

Virgil took that as his hint to leave the kitchen and head to his room.‌ All the groceries were put away anyway.

Roman took the phone off speaker. “…‌I know I have to tell him, it wasn’t very fair of you too make him agree beforehand…yeah, I get it, but still, my point stands!…I’m sure Nana would be fine if I‌ just told her I‌ ‘broke up’ with him…No? Fine. Just continue to tell her that Virgil’s my boyfriend, I get it…Don’t break Nana’s heart. That makes sense. I’m just hoping he agrees, never mind actually pull this thing off…Alright, I love you too Mum…I’ll let him know before we leave, don’t worry. See ya tomorrow.”

Ending the call, Roman tossed his phone onto the counter before rubbing his hands down his face. This whole thing was never going to work. Virgil had only agreed to go because his mother had pleaded with him in her own way. He was probably going to say no when Roman asked him to be his fake boyfriend.

Good God, wasn’t that was a sentence in itself.

Cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, he nabbed his phone and stuffed it into his pocket before flicking the lights out and heading down the hallway leading to his bedroom. He walked right past Virgil’s, before pausing. Music echoed softly through the door and he knew what he had to do, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to actually do it.

Biting into his lower lip, he turned on his heel and knocked on Virgil’s door.

After getting an affirmative to open the door, he did. Nudging it open, he was welcomed to the sight of Virgil packing his things into a duffel bag.

“What’s up, Ro?” He said, sending a glance over his shoulder while folding a sweatshirt and tucking it into the bag. “Got something on your mind?”

Roman laughed nervously and that got Virgil’s attention real quick. The raven-haired boy turned to meet his eyes. “Yeah, about that,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. “Funny story…”

“It’s not funny, is it?”

“About the Christmas gathering—”

Something flickered on Virgil’s face and Roman could call it before it happened. He watched his roommate’s features fall, and something shifted behind that dark shining gaze. “Your mom was just being polite, wasn’t she?‌ She didn’t actually think I’d agree to go and all of a sudden now she has an extra mouth to feed over the holidays—”

Shit.

“No.” Roman stepped a bit further into the room. His voice was firm and as grounding as it could be. “Mum wasn’t lying about that, she really does want you there. However—and you’re going to have to hear me about this—the whole family thinks we’re dating and now they think you’re coming to Christmas with me because of it.”

The onrush of words surprised him. Virgil blinked brilliantly. Once. Twice. Three times. Before the sentence finally clicked. “Your family thinks we’re a thing?”

Roman winced. “Exactly.”

Virgil struggled to find the words to phrase his thoughts. “How and why?”

“Well, remember the art gallery that wanted to showcase your portfolio as an up and coming artist?” Roman got a nod in response that, so he continued. “Well, when I told my mum I‌ went with you, she took it as in we were going on a date. And since then, she’s thought we’ve been together. Mum’s a chatterbox, you know that and God do I love her, but she told both my aunts and my Nana and Abuela and, well, rumours spread and grow like wildfire.”

“Roman, the showcase was months ago!”

“I‌ know that, but Mum never mentioned it to me!” Roman defended. “This is the first time I’ve heard this from her!”

“Oh my god,”‌ Virgil’s hands went to cover his face.

Roman could see the tips of his ears turning bright pink and he was sure his face looked exactly the same. This was so embarrassing. He loved his family more than anything, but goodness this was painful.

“Okay, okay. So let me get this straight.” Roman snorted at that, muttering something about being the furthest thing from straight, but shut his trap immediately when Virgil gave him an unimpressed scowl. Virgil brushed his hands through his hair, pacing the room for a moment. “We have to pretend that we’re dating.” Roman nodded when Virgil looked at him, as if looking to make sure he had this situation right. “And that we like dating each other. Because your entire family, that is going to be there, thinks we’re in.. love.”

“Pretty much,” he said, nibbling his lower lip. “But if you really hate the idea of it, you don’t have to come!‌ I’m sure I‌ can come up with some BS excuse of why you couldn’t make it.”

Virgil was close to taking up the offer. It would probably be better to stay back and then having to worry about convincing all of Roman’s family that they were into each other like that. But there was also the worry of Ophelia being disappointed in him. No, she wasn’t his mother, but she treated him as if he was a part of the family. And he really didn’t want to disappoint the woman that took the time to understand him and treat him like one of her own.

“…I’ll go,” he finally said, looking up to meet Roman’s startled eyes. “But you owe me big time for this.”

Roman was nodding his head before he knew what he was going to say. He felt such a rush of relief flood over him. “Absolutely!‌ You got it!‌” He then turned to leave the room, before pausing once more and laying a hand against Virgil’s door frame. He peered over his shoulder. “And Virgil?”

“Hmm?”‌ The other replied as he was once again focused on packing his things for the morning.

“Thanks,” Roman said, soft and meaningful.

“Yeah whatever.”

Roman chuckled, exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

Dear god, what had they gotten themselves into?

93 notes · View notes

hyperion-huntress · 4 years

Text

Holiday in Handcuffs

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358268#main

Pairing: Destiel

Words: 6160

Tags: AU, fluff, artist!Cas, kidnapping, Christmas time, mistletoe kisses.

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

The man didn’t looked scared at all as he looked from the gun to Castiel’s face, just calm, and for a moment Castiel was terrified he wouldn’t listen but then he gave a slight nod and walked to the doors.

Tuesday was when things began to fall apart, at work he had several different people yell at him for bringing him the wrong thing even though he’s sure two of the people did order it then just didn’t like it. He had went home to find out that his ancient microwave finally hit the dust. After eating his cold, three day old Chinese take out he decided to finally try to finish his painting.

He almost did too, he was just adding the final finishing touches of dark gray and light green when he tripped and sent his paint right into the middle of his canvas. In the scramble to get it off with the least damage possible he ended up tripping a second time and falling, the canvas getting torn in the process.

If Tuesday was bad, Wednesday was downright awful. He had went to talk to the local gallery about putting some of his work in but was denied because his landscape work didn’t fit in with the other, mostly unrealistic, pieces they were featuring. At work he dropped hot soup on himself and burned a large portion of his arms and chest. Not to mention the moment he finished putting on his new shirt his brother called him to remind him about Christmas at the family cabin.

“You won’t be late again this year, will you?”

Castiel let out a large sigh as he leaned against the employees bathroom counter. “I’ll be on time. 7 PM, sharp.”

“That’s what you said last year. And Castiel?” Lucifer asked.

“What?” Castiel huffed, already irritated with his eldest brother.

“It’s 6.” He said dryly, going on before Castiel had a chance to respond. “And you’re bringing someone this year aren’t you? You usually don’t but we had hoped you finally met someone who… Can take care of you, this year.”

“I can take care of myself, Lucifer.” Castiel snapped out, pushing away from the counter sharply. “I don’t need anyone to support me.”

Lucifer gave him a long suffering sigh. “You’re a waiter, Castiel.”

“I’m also an artist.” He put in quickly as he left the bathroom, sick of his family ignoring it or referring to it as a childhood hobby he hadn’t grown out of yet.

“Anyways, you’re the only one of us who hasn’t brought anyone home. Mother and father are starting to get worried, you know. Not only that you won’t ever find anyone but that you’re, you know, hiding your sexuality from your family.”

“I’m bringing someone home.” Castiel said, just wanting to put an end to this as he looked around, eyes locking on a man. “But.. It is a man.” He said, waiting for a snide comment that never came.

“What’s his name?”

“You’ll find out with the rest of the family.” He stated as he watched the man walk across the room, headed past him and to the bathrooms.

“Honestly, Castiel-” And that’s when Castiel hung up, already knowing that the condescending tone would only leave him more angry.

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do and he took off the stupid elf hat the owner made them wear and went over to grab his coat, pulling the handgun out from the inside pocket and hiding it under his coat as he headed towards the bathroom.

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

Castiel followed, feeling like he was in a daze, miles away from the current situation. He was suddenly brought back when the man slipped on a patch of ice and came down on the ground with a harsh sound.

Holding his breath, Castiel leaned over him and once he saw he was simply passed out he pocketed the gun and threw it in his old rust bucket of a car with his coat before working the man into the passenger's seat.

Utilizing this time, he grabbed his tie and took it off, wrapping it around the man’s eyes as a blindfold for later. Once it was knotted in the back he went rummaging around for the gag gift his cousin Gabriel had given him for his last birthday.

He plucked the pink, fuzzy handcuffs up with a slight smile before putting them on his temporary victim. The rational part of him was yelling and telling him he couldn’t do this and to let him go. The larger part of him though was telling him that he could make this work and please his family for once in his life and after the few days at the cabin he could let the man go and everyone would go back to their normal lives.

Once Castiel had buckled the both of them in he began the two hour drive north to his family’s cabin, structures getting more and more scarce as he drove until there were only buildings every 15 or so minutes.

He had stopped an hour in to get gas and pick up some snacks when the man finally woke up, jerking as he tried to asses the situation.

Castiel looked over to him as he pulled out of the gas station. “Sorry.” Was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Sorry.” The man echoed, turning in his general direction. “What the hell is going on?”

“Here.” He said, reaching over and pulling at his tie until it dropped around the man’s neck. “Better?”

“Not really.” He said, staring at Castiel’ before looking out the window. “Are you taking me out in the middle of nowhere to kill me? You some sort of serial killer?”

Castiel frowned at him. “What? No. I just.. Listen, you’re going to come with me to my family’s cabin and pretend to be my boyfriend.” He explained simply.

The man just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. I’ve been kidnapped by a psychopath.” He said, not able to believe it. “What the.. Why do you even think that would work? You do realize the minute we get to other people- wonderfully sane people- I’m going to tell them that you kidnapped me right?”

Castiel shifted, looking at him. “They won’t believe you, I have a plan already.”

The man pursed his lips as he shook his head again. “I could probably take you.” He said as he subtly sized the guy up. “Eventually I’ll overpower you.”

Castiel pulled his gun back out and pointed it at him. “Or I could shoot you.”

“You won’t shoot me.” The man stated just as a deer pranced across the road.

Castiel let out a shout as he went to swerve to the side the same time his hand dropped slightly and he pulled the trigger. He quickly looked over to the frozen man and followed his eyes, horrified when he saw his bullet embedded itself in the seat right below the man's crotch.

“I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed as he slammed the safety back on and put it away.

The pair were silent for the next 20 minutes of their trip before Castiel cleared his throat. “My name is Castiel. You can call me Cas. I uh.. Got chips, if you want any.” He offered.

The man denied even as his stomach growled loudly at the thought.

Castiel offered a slight, if forced, laugh as he handed him an unopened bag. “All yours.”

After another five minutes the man quietly opened the bag and ate a few chips before mumbling.

“What?”

“Dean. Names Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.”

He was met with grumbles and a glare as the man continued to eat.

10 minutes away, Castiel began to give him a rundown of his life and family and Dean reluctantly offered a few things about himself.

Once he was pulled up outside the cabin, half an hour away from any other buildings he began to pat Dean’s jacket and pants pocket.

“Hey! You don’t get to touch what you almost shot off!” He protested.

“Sorry, just looking for this.” Castiel said as he pulled the phone from him and shoved it in his pocket with his own before uncuffing him and taking his tie back. “I’ll be right back.” He said before running to the house.

Inside he found his mom and dad and came out as well as told them that his boyfriend, Dean, had a weird sense of humor where he just joked about being a kidnapped victim until everyone was sick of it in 2 minutes. Castiel could tell that they thought it was weird, but then again they thought he was weird too.

He ran back out of the house and into Dean who had been on the porch.

Castiel took Dean’s arm and pulled him in. “Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Dean. Dean, this is my mother and father.”

Dean gave him a look before launching into the story about how he got here. Castiel was more than relieved when his parents looked at each other before chuckling to themselves. “Love has a way of making you feel like that.” His father said and Dean turned to Castiel, smug look dropping off of his face.

The next 15 minutes was a whirlwind of greetings and forced hugs and handshakes and the entire time Castiel made sure to keep an eye on Dean.

After his brothers and sister and the people they brought were led away by his mother and father he turned to Dean. “Not so bad, right?”

“I hate you.” Was his reply as he glowered at Castiel.

“It’s only for a few days?” Castiel offered. “Then I can take you back to the diner and you can go on with your life.”

Dean snorted at that. “Are you serious? My brothers a lawyer, there’s no way you won’t be in jail at the end of this.”

Castiel never get the chance to reply as his mother came downstairs to retrieve them before putting them in a room together.

Once the door was shut, Castiel cleared his throat as they both stared at the single bed. “I know I kidnapped you but if it makes you uncomfortable I can bring a cot in here to sleep on.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. I’d also love if you let me go.” Dean replied, sitting on the bed.

Castiel awkwardly shuffled his feet before deciding to ignore the comment. “So, maybe we should get to know each other a little better?”

“Alright. I’m Dean Winchester, I’m an Aquarius, enjoy sunsets and long walks on the beach. I also like frisky women, emphasis on the women part.”

“You’re not straight, completely, at least.”

Dean stared at him with wide eyes a moment before scowling. “Why do you say that?”

“No need to get defensive.” Castiel sighed, sitting on the other end of the bed. “But in the diner? You checked out two guys.” He pointed out, watching as Dean lowered his head.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing you get arrested.” He bit out.

Dinner went by uneventfully after that, Castiel and Dean staying silent most of the time as they ate slowly. After dinner, the family members bid each other goodnight and Castiel got a cot into their room. He slept by the door as Dean took the bed.

In the morning, Castiel woke up first and, after a few moments, he woke Dean up as well. Which, of course, went awful like he had expected. He didn’t think it would be any better if Dean had woke up on his own, though.

They were still bickering 20 minutes later when his sister Anna came too get them for breakfast.

Dean brushed right past her and headed down. Anna gave Castiel a smile. “I don’t know how you got so lucky, he’s so handsome.” she complimented. “And to get him to come here.”

“I guess I didn’t really give him a choice.” He said before stumbling over his words. “To love me, of course.” He added quickly.

Anna gave a small giggle as she continued down the hall to get Lucifer and Michael and their respective wives.

He made his way into the kitchen just in time, it seemed.

“You slept in those?” His mother asked.

“We left his suitcase behind, with all the hustle and bustle.” Castiel supplied easily as he slipped in the room.

Dean shot him a displeased look as his mother tutted at them. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for you. Castiel has a tendency to wear clothes too big for him, anyways.”

And that’s how Dean found himself locked in the bathroom with a phone after lunch. He had gotten some clothes from Castiel but was sent to Lucifer and Michael to look for better fitting pants.

“You have a phone?” Dean asked, staring at the device on Michael’s dresser.

“I own a company, of course I wouldn’t be phoneless for 4 days. I turned in a fake to my mother.”

“Can I use it?” Dean asked, hopeful that this was his way out.

Michael picked it up and tossed it to him. “Five minutes. Don’t let anyone know, mother takes it very seriously.”

Dean was out and down the hallway in ten seconds flat.

Now, he listened the the ringing before a worried. “Hello?”

“Sammy! You have to help me.” Dean said, forcing himself to keep his voice down low.

“Dean, what’s wrong? You never called me back last night and you’re supposed to be here in an hour.”

“Listen, I was kidnapped and held at gunpoint and almost had my dick shot off last night. I’m maybe three hours north of moms house. I need you to get the police or something and get me out of here.” He rushed the last part as someone began banging on the door. “I’ve got to go Sam, but please hurry.” He pleaded as he ended the call and opened the door.

Castiel narrowed his eyes as he held out his hand. “Phone.”

Dean obediently dropped it in his palm, feeling a bit more cocky than he had since this entire thing began.

“You.. didn’t make a call did you?”

Dean just smirked at him before walking by. “Oh, and Castiel?” He said, turning to him with a smug look. “I’m gonna be the best damn boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel asked, blinking in surprise. “Why?”

“Because I want to make your family love me so when they find out all about this they’re even more disappointed with you.” Dean said, bitter about not being home with his own family. He gave him another smug smirk before turning and going to their room.

Castiel watched after him, accidentally letting out a whimper as the words registered with him.

A little bit after that they had put up a tree, his parents embarrassing him worse and worse as the minutes passed by.

“Castiel made this one when he was 7.” His father commented.

His mother let out a sigh as she took it and hung it up. “He was always so withdrawn as a child. Once, we paid a little girl to be his friend but two weeks later she gave the money back.”

“Mother!” Castiel groaned, dropping his head as she went on.

“It was always just you and your drawings. And Mr. Dinglebop.”

“Mr. Dinglebop?” Dean asked, not able to even hide his amusement. Or, not trying to at all to begin with.

“His imaginary friend.” His father added in, sighing heavily.

Dean grinned over at Castiel but it slowly began to fall as he saw how Castiel was retreating in on himself. As an older brother it was part of his job to realize how far you could push someone until it was too far and he could tell it was time to get out of this territory now.

He laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gave him a warm smile when he looked up. “How about we go make some hot chocolate before we go to bed?”

Castiel nodded, relieved and Dean led him with a hand on his lower back to the kitchen.

“Sorry.. They aren’t exactly proud of me.” Castiel said as he pulled out things for hot chocolate.

Dean made a face as he got the cups down “Don’t say that. They’re your parents, they love you.”

“Not as much as they love Michael and Anna and Lucifer.” Castiel mumbled as he got out the mild.

He startled when Dean’s hand closed around his wrist and the milk splashed out and onto Dean’s shirt as he turned them so they were face to face. “Don’t say things like that.” He said, tone demanding him to listen, not even reacting to the spilled milk.

Castiel dropped his eyes to his wet shirt front and nodded.

Dean seemed to be pleased with that and let him go. Castiel set the milk on the kitchen island and watched as Dean easily took his shirt off and bunched it up.

Castiel let his eyes drift down, for the first time getting a good look at Dean’s chest and appreciating it a lot more than he probably should.

Watching him stare, Dean might have flexed a little bit as he twisted the shirt in his hands. “It’s only fair you give me your shirt.” He stated.

Blue eyes flew up to meet green, widening at the statement. “Why don’t you just get a new one?”

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter. “Because you want me to wear your clothes anyways.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and quickly removed his own shirt, throwing it at Dean. “I’ll go get a new one. You can make the cocoa.” He said, blushing at how Dean’s eyes roamed over him.

He turned and began to walk when Dean opened his mouth again.

“Are all your pants that low?” Castiel stumbled and turned to stare at him just to let his jaw drop when he found eyes tracing the v of his hips.

Turning, he fled the room and put on the baggiest shirt he owned, hoping Dean couldn’t find a reason to check his body out again.

He may have put off going back down for a few minutes. He fiddled with the sketchbook he had brought, flipping through it quickly twice before he sighed and put it back. Slowly, he walked back to the kitchen.

Castiel found Dean with two glasses and a bottle of hard liquor between them. “I uh… Just thought that maybe something stronger would be good for tonight.”

Moving forward with a small smile, Castiel nodded. “That sounds better, actually.” He said, sitting down as he took the glass Dean pushed towards him.

Dean watched as Castiel put the glass to his lips, downing it all in one go and setting the glass back down with a slight grimace. “You drink like you want to forget.” He commented.

Castiel glanced at Dean who just shrugged and said “I know what it’s like.” before downing the liquid in his own glass. They refilled and went on drinking as they talked. At first it was all meaningless small talk but at some point it became deeper.

“I just want them to feel proud of me, just once.” Castiel said miserably. That wouldn’t do, thought Dean. He reached over and settled a hand on Castiel’ shoulder in a form of comfort.

Castiel’s eyes rose to meet him and they were full of regret. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have brought you here. It was stupid, I was stupid.” He muttered, dropping his gaze to the half empty glass.

“Hey, Cas, look at me.” Dean said and waited for their eyes to meet again before going on. “I know I didn’t exactly have any choice on coming here, and I wish that I was with my own family, but… This isn’t all that bad.” He said, shifting.

Castiel looked up, eyes hopeful for the first time this day. “You really mean that? Like… You don’t hate it all?”

“Course not, you’re family is pretty cool once you get passed half them acting like they have sticks up their asses half the time.” Dean said, downing the rest of his drink. They were both well on their way to drunk at this point and starting to slur some of their words. “Besides, as stupid as it is, I’m really liking all your family traditions and.. and I might be starting to like even you.”

Castiel stared at him a long minute, not being able to process that. “You mean… You don’t hate me? Even after I almost shot your..” He motioned down to his lap.

Dean let out a loud laugh at that before clamping a hand over his mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

After that, the conversation became lighter as they talked about what they both enjoyed. They had a few more glasses before Castiel stood up to put the almost empty bottle back. He stumbled on the way, causing Dean to laugh more, doubling over and shaking his head as he watched.

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh back, finding it contagious. Finally, he calmed himself enough to nudge Dean and nod to the stairs. “We should go to bed.”

Dean nodded and stood, he wobbled in place a moment before tossing an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “We can help each other walk.” He reasoned and Castiel had never heard a better idea as he wrapped an arm around Dean’s middle.

They made their way up the stairs, in now way, shape, or form, being quiet about it. They had to stop half way up when Castiel began to laugh after Dean had hit his toe and almost fell as he swore loudly.

Eventually, after much too long, they were in the room. Dean kicked the door closed and walked them to the bed. He held on tight even when Castiel’s tried to pull away to go to his cot.

“No, no, we have to walk together.” Dean had said.

“But I’ll have to walk back to my cot by myself.” Castiel said, confused by the idea.

Dean shook his head as he flopped down on the bed, taking Castiel with him. “Good thing this is big enough for two!”

Castiel let out a laugh as Dean turned enough to wrap his arms and legs around his. “Hey, hey, at least cover us up.” He protested with chuckles as he wrestled the blanket out from underneath them and flung it over, making sure they were both covered.

Dean hummed, giving Castiel a small squeeze. “Haven’t slept in the same bed with someone in forever. I missed it.” He admitted quietly, into Castiel’ hair.

Castiel let out a small content sigh, turning into Dean’s hold and laying an arm around his waist. “I know how you feel.” He said back in a quiet voice.

He laid there, ear pressed against Dean’s chest and listening to just his heartbeat and breathing for a while before his own eyes slid shut and he drifted off.

Dean, laid there a while longer just watching Castiel, mind void of any real thought processes before he also fell asleep.

The next day they didn't say anything when the woke up side by side. They just got up and began getting ready for the day.

It worked for the most part, at least until they went down for breakfast. They had been shuffling through the door when Anna pointed at them with a grin.

They looked at each other, confused, then back at Anna. All she did was grin and look up. Dread filled Castiel as he looked up, already knowing what he would see.

Above them was mistletoe. It was just hanging there in a cruel way, at least to his eyes. He was about to make an excuse about morning breath but he felt a hand on his cheek.

His eyes shot down to meet Dean’s and they widened when he was the soft smile on Dean’s face.

He felt another hand on his other cheek and then his face was being pulled forward. He closed his eyes automatically and then lips were on his and they were soft and warm and so, so wrong because Dean’s not even here of his own free will.

That didn’t stop him from kissing back though and he tilted his head when Dean began to tilt his the other way.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean’s hands moved down, settling on each of his hips. They continued to kiss like that until a cleared throat made them startle away from each other.

Castiel stared wide-eyed at Dean in disbelief as a blush took over his face. Dean, on the other hand, just turned to see who had made the noise and grinned at Michael. “Sorry?”

Castiel turned fast enough to see Michael roll his eyes. Anna looked fairly pleased with herself and right then he knew his sister was the reason the mistletoe was there in the first place. Glancing to the other end of the table he could see Lucifer hiding an amused smirk behind his cup of coffee. If it was possible, Castiel’s face burned even brighter at that.

“Mother dragged the others out to pick up the last few things needed for dinner tonight.” Michael said as he stood up. “I think I’m going to go for a walk, now.” He said before leaving the room with carefully measured strides.

Dean dragged Castiel over to the table and sat him down before grabbing breakfast for the both of them. “I was thinking actually, you paint, right? Maybe we could go out for a winter picnic and you can get some nice landscapes down.”

Castiel stared at him, startled, before slowly nodding. “I.. Yes, Dean, that sounds pleasant.” He said, his hands fidgeting under the table, out of sight.

Dean smiled widely at him as he sat down with two plates of food and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. Right then, he knew he was fucked.

Keen to keep his word, Dean packed a lunch and made sure they were bundled up before dragging Castiel out of the cabin with a canvas as well as a sketchpad and his case of various paints, pencils and pastels.

Castiel took him up to a secluded spot he had found as a kid and Dean spread out two blankets on a fallen log they had found. They ate in silence as Castiel began to look around, looking for just the right spot.

Dean seemed content to just eat and look out at the snow shining in the distance as Castiel began on his landscape sketch. Or, at least it started as a landscape drawing.

At some point Castiel had sketched Dean into it and then suddenly half of the space was just him and it was more like a portrait then. Castiel didn’t even realize it until he had colored the green of Dean’s eyes just right. He started when Dean broke the silence that had surrounded them the whole time.

“Can I see it?”

Castiel stared at him with wide eyes as he held it against his chest. “I..” He swallowed before nodding and holding it out to Dean.

He watched as Dean’s eyes widened and let it go easily when Dean took hold of it to bring it closer to his eyes for inspection. He waited guiltily for Dean to begin to lecture him about drawing him without his permission but then Dean just grinned over at Castiel and handed it back. “I like it, Cas.”

Castiel practically preened at the words, smiling brightly at him as he pulled it back and finished up the background. “We should probably head back, the suns going down.” He said softly.

“Probably.” Dean agreed, carefully nudging Castiel. “I’ll pose for you back at the cabin, okay?” He said and Castiel looked up to meet teasing eyes.

“Maybe I will make you be my model.” Castiel rolled his eyes fondly as he packed up. “You are very pretty, after all.” He said, patting his cheek before standing up.

Dean watched him a moment before grinning and getting up too, collecting the blankets before they began their journey through the thinning forest to the cabin.

They walked in the front door and began peeling off their damp clothing. They seemed to have good timing because just then Castiel’s father came out in a huge coat and let out a loud sigh when he saw them. “I was just about to come get you. Dinner will be ready in ten.” He said before he pulled off his huge coat.

“Let’s go get dressed.” Castiel said quietly, taking Dean’s hand and pulling him up the stairs to their room.

Castiel put his art supplies away and turned to go through the dresser he had filled with his clothes. He got an outfit and turned to change but froze when he saw Dean, however. He was shirtless and tugging his pants down and he turned to grab the pants he had put on his bed.

Dean looked up and saw Castiel staring, he grinned at him and winked. “Maybe we’ll save the nude modeling for after dinner?”

Castiel sputtered at that and turned away quickly, pulling his own clothes off and quickly trying to redress. This wasn’t anything like how the locker rooms at school were like, he mused to himself.

Dean grinned as he watched Castiel and let out a whistle, chuckling to himself when Castiel almost tripped in his rush to pull his pants on.

Castiel was dressed and out the door before Dean even had his pants on. He rushed down to the kitchen and offered to help but just got sent to grab the two bottles of wine from the storage spot in the garage portion there was.

He went and fetched the bottles and when he returned Dean was helping Anna set the table. After that it was all a blur of directions and being told where to sit by his mother before everything was set and dinner was deemed ready.

Lucifer and Michael were sat on one side of the table with their wives beside them. At both heads of the table where their parents and then Anna, Dean and Castiel sat across from his brothers and their wives.

His mother made a small religious speech and they all made a toast. Right as his father rose to cut the ham there was a loud bang and men charged into the house, guns raised.

Castiel felt his stomach drop as he realized they were police officers, shouting orders at them. After a moment a large man without a uniform fought his way through and grabbed Dean, dragging him out.

Castiel kept his head down as he heard yelling and orders but he just obediently put his hands behind his back when the officers began to arrest them. All of them, to Castiel’s horror.

Luckily on the way to the jail he rode in the back of a police car with Anna who seemed to be stunned into silence. Or too disgusted to talk to him. Castiel was hoping it was just the shock, though.

The next to hour seemed to pass by like minutes. Soon they were all back together in a cell and Michael was yelling at him about how he had managed to ruin Christmas and commit a crime at the same time.

No one stood up for him or even told Michael to quiet down so Castiel sat there and took it, staring at the ground. He always knew his family was better off without him and this was proving all those thoughts.

He tried to apologize once but a glare from Lucifer shut him back up. Worse than that, his mother was crying, asking what she had done to mess him up this bad. His father kept giving him disappointed looks, and Anna was ignoring him all together.

He wasn’t sure how long it had went on, it seemed like hours to him though. Eventually an officer returned and said the charges had been dropped. Everyone rushed out of the cell, to follow the other officer but Castiel made a sluggish exit, feeling like he would be safer behind the bars at this point.

It was stupid and selfish but Castiel kept looking around the police station, hoping to see Dean. He didn’t.

He went home after that to his broken toaster and lonely rooms, not daring to go get his things from the cabin just yet. He did go pick his car up from where the police had all of their cars towed.

A couple of weeks later Castiel was heading out of the restaurant and to his car. His entire body locked up in terror as a blindfold was suddenly tied around his eyes and a hand found his way over his mouth.

To his horror, Castiel felt himself begin to shake slightly as he let out a whimper.

“Shh..” The man hushed him, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s jaw.

Castiel knew he should have been terrified of that kiss but something about this just seemed so familiar.. and then it clicked. “Dean?” He asked but it came out muffled.

He had seemed to understand it because he pulled his hand back with a chuckle. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel gasped and went to turn around but Dean stopped him and Castiel felt fur on both his wrists and he let out a huff of amusement. “Furry handcuffs?”

“I didn’t make fun of you for using it.” Dean said as he began to lead him.

Castiel walked, frowning slightly when it felt like he had walked at least a block. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Was Dean’s response as he ran a hand down his arm. “This is my revenge and I can do what I want.” He stated.

Castiel felt his heart sink all over again. “I’m sorry for what I did, Dean.” He said in a defeated voice.

He was suddenly pulled to a stop and turned around by Dean. “Don’t be.” He said simply and then there were soft lips on him and it felt so right but wrong all over again.

Before Castiel had the chance to kiss back Dean pulled away and pulled the blindfold away. Castiel squinted as his eyes were suddenly assaulted with light again. He blinked a few times then looked around in amazement.

They were in a gazebo and there were lights hanging inside the entirety of the structure. Castiel looked back to Dean with wide eyes. “Where.. Where are we?” He asked softly.

Dean grinned at him and moved closer, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist. “Back of the art gallery. I have another surprise late.” He said, smiling softly as he began to sway them back and forth, dancing without music.

Castiel wrapped his arms around his neck and, moved with him, biting his lip lightly. “I don’t… I don’t understand. I kidnapped you.”

“Yeah, well… You made me like you too so you only have yourself to blame.” Dean teased softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

Castiel watched him with soft eyes a moment before leaning in and kissing Dean softly. They shared chaste kisses as they swayed together for a while before Dean pulled away and took his hand, tugging up up to the art gallery doors. Castiel laughed at Dean’s excitement all they way until he suddenly stopped.

Castiel looked up, quieting as he met Dean’s eyes. Dean was looking at him expectantly and a moment later he understood why.

His picture. Hanging up. His work of art in an art gallery. His landscape-turned-portrait of Dean in an art gallery.

It was overwhelming, seeing something he had made up there and he felt himself tear up. He had tried to get some of his other pieces into shows before but was always denied and now… He felt like a real artist for the first time in a long time, he felt that his family was wrong about him. “Dean.. There’s no way I can repay you for this.” He whispered.

“Sure there is!” Dean said cheerily, smiling as he pulled Castiel into his side. “Go on a date with me.”

Castiel tore his eyes from the wall and looked up at Dean in shock. After a moment he gave Dean a shy smile and nodded. “Okay.”

#destiel #old fanfic #but its the holiday season sooo #castiel #dean winchester #artist!cas #holiday in handcuffs #spn #supernatural #fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #tw: kidnapping

12 notes · View notes

atlasishere · 5 years

Text

Deck the Aisles

A/N This is a very late Christmas gift for @watchoutforthefanfics, she is a gift that has let me take an extra month to finish this labor of love

Word Count: 6700 words

Warnings: Swearing, Deceit( as Emerson), Remus, a couple of alcohol mentions as well (feel free to let me know if I need to add any)

Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Moceit, Remile(background)

It was 5 in the morning and Virgil Poe was in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Who knew how he came to this point in his life, but it kind of sucked. It was Black Friday and Virgil had decided maybe he can get a good deal on a new Crock-Pot for his mother, hers had broken. As he walked through the crowded aisles, he found it, the last crockpot. Speed walking towards it, Virgil realized that someone else was also reaching for it. Virgil grabbed it just before the other man did. As the other man began to reach for the box, Virgil yanked it out of his reach. The two spent a bit of time reaching and grabbing for the crockpot when Virgil realized it really wasn’t worth it. So after deciding this, he handed the man the crockpot and left the store hoping to find one at another store. After going to two other department stores, he found one and went home, wondering about the man he had almost fought for a crockpot. I will probably never see him again and if I do, he most likely won’t remember me.

A week and a half later, Roman Darcy was walking through the mall. He had some more Christmas shopping to do for his mom and his two roommates. He knew Logan wanted a new Rubix’s cube since his old one had been lost by Roman, but Logan doesn’t need to know that. He knew he wanted to get Patton some new fabric and yarn for his side business of selling clothes he made. He got his mom a crockpot already, fought a man for it, but knew she might like some nice chocolates from the candy shop, so he walked over to buy some. As he walked out, Roman noticed a flash of purple and looked up surprised to see the man from Bed Bath and Beyond. The purple clothed man had apparently sensed someone staring at him as he looked up from his phone and looked around. Turning his eyes and head, he finally noticed Roman.

The thoughts of both men were along the lines of “FUCK!!! Does he recognize me? Shit, I think he does.”

Both were having a mental breakdown, but Virgil is quite used to them so he was able to be done quicker than Roman and began to profusely apologize for his immature behavior while Roman kept trying to reassure him that it was fine. Eventually, Virgil heard Roman and began to breathe a little bit deeper.

Then Roman opened his mouth, “How about if I buy you lunch since I got the crockpot?”

And all hell broke loose as Virgil began to argue. “Hell no. I am buying your lunch since I started the “fight”.”

Well, Roman was passionate and couldn’t back down if he tried and said, “You gave me the crockpot, I am returning the favor!”

This continued for a few minutes and while there wasn’t any yelling, people around could tell they were irritated with each other. Eventually, Virgil’s anxiety kicked in because people were taking notice of him, which is not good, and said, “Fine you can pay for lunch, let’s just go now.”

So, Roman took Virgil to Wendy’s in the mall food court and told Virgil to order whatever. Once he had ordered, Virgil decided to send a text to his roommate that he would be out later than expected and that he would see him later.

After the two obtained their food, they found a table and sat down. The conversation began with Virgil thanking Roman and Roman brushed it off, it was not a problem for him. After they began to eat, Roman finally sparked a conversation, “So what do you do for a living?”

Virgil swallowed his food and responded, “I am a therapist at Dr. Picani’s office. I also will do art and writing commissions for people for a bit of extra cash. You?”

Roman smiled and answered “I run a children’s theater, direct the plays, and offer art classes, often in painting. I also act a little bit myself.”

“Cool. I used to do tech for that theater a few years ago. I had to stop after I picked up commissioning and Dr. Picani’s business expanded,” Virgil said as he remembered the fun he had doing lights and sound. He also remembered the cute assistant director who also had to help backstage and help with the writing.

“Oh, that’s really cool. Yeah, I have been working at that theater for close to a decade now. I had apprenticed as an assistant director so that when the previous owner and director retired, I would have experience and could take over,” Roman shared.

At that moment, his words sunk in and were comprehended as Virgil realized, “Holy Shit this is the guy I thought was cute when I did tech.”

As Virgil quietly continued his meltdown, he really looked at Roman and if he was blatantly honest with himself, he would say he wasn’t disappointed but Virgil also knew that this “attraction” was purely an appearance-based one so he didn’t feel flustered as he said, “Yeah, we worked together. You did backstage while I ran sound and lights.”

The realization seemed to dawn on Roman as he said, “Oh that’s cool. I believe that I remember our shows running smoothly when you were in the tech tower. I hope you can eventually find time to help us again as we could really use the help.”

All Virgil responded with was an almost optimistic, “We shall see.”

The two finished their lunch with very little conversation and bid their farewells, Virgil heading to a store and Roman to his cousin’s coffee shop.

Roman walked into the coffee shop and greeted his cousin who was working behind the counter and said, “Remy, holy heckerino you will not believe what just happened. Do you remember that techie that I had a small crush on?”

“I remember a techie that you had stated ‘He is the light of my life, the night and his dark clothes have hidden him from me. I have gazed upon the face of an angel’ and some other romantic shit. So if we are talking about the same techie, that was no small crush,” Remy responded with, sarcasm soaking his tone.

“Did I really say that?” Roman questioned.

“Yes. I have the whole speech recorded on my phone if you wish to hear it all.”

“Not preferably, why do you have a recording?” Roman asked curiously, expecting a zinger.

“Two reasons, to laugh at you and if you get married, for that techie to hear you gushing about him,” Remy replied, chuckling as Roman started to pout, “Anyway, so what does he have to do with anything? I thought he stopped doing tech work for some reason.”

“He did, but I recently bumped into him and had lunch with him,” Roman said, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Oh, okay. Did you get contact information for him at least?” Remy questioned, already knowing the answer ready to exit from his disaster cousin’s mouth.

“No, I did not get his phone number or address or Tumblr or Snapchat or anything,” Roman wailed out, sounding like he was 4 and denied a second cookie.

Remy just mumbled something about a disaster and shooed Roman out before any customers came in.

Virgil arrived at his apartment complex and walked into his apartment and in an instant, Virgil was bombarded with questions and accusations. His roommate, Emerson, was apparently curious about where Virgil had been, that or worried. They had just moved a week before Thanksgiving and Emerson was definitely a mom friend who wanted to make sure his friend was okay and able to not get lost, which is commendable but annoying. So, after explaining what had happened, Virgil volunteered to go down and get the mail, since he had forgotten to.

Roman pulled his car into his parking spot and got his mailbox key out. As he walked to the mailboxes, he swore he saw that dark-clad angel of a human that vaguely looked like Virgil. As the dark cloud got closer, Roman realized it was Virgil. So he decides to strike up a conversation, “Hey,”

“Hey yourself,” Virgil replied, snickering.

“Stop laughing at me. I am trying here. I swear everyone is mean to the hot person in the area,” Roman said jokingly.

“Well, I mean, I could help you get better at it, the whole talking to people. We could exchange contact information,” Virgil said.

“I mean, sure. Give me your phone,” Roman said, taking his out and opening the contacts app.

“Man someone is pushy,” Virgil stated, doing the same thing.

“So, I didn’t know you lived here,” Roman said while entering his number.

“I would certainly hope, I don’t just give my address out and I would hope you weren’t stalking me,” Virgil said sarcastically, “But in all honesty, I moved here about a week before Thanksgiving, So I haven’t lived here long.”

After the two exchanged phones again, Virgil got his mail and left.

Roman watched him go before grabbing his own mail and heading to his apartment. Once he had walked in, Roman's roommate, Patton, bombarded him with questions on where he was and what he had been doing. So he began to explain what had happened.

“So, you worried me because you were making a new friend,” Patton said cooly despite the obvious frustration in his features, “You said you would be home by 1:30 at the latest, it is 3:30. I was concerned and stressed.”

“I’m sorry Pat, I had meant to send a text and must have forgotten. I didn't mean to make you worry,” Roman said, very obviously upset from his mistake.

“It is fine, I keep forgetting we aren’t college students and that you can take care of yourself. I am sorry I got upset, I had no right,” Patton said, realizing his mistake. It was sometimes hard for him to let go since he lived through college with Roman and his occasional dumb decision and saw him live through the pain because of how easy he loves. But he knew he needed to let go.

Patton walked into the kitchen, where his boyfriend Logan was, looking at options for dinner. As soon as Patton had entered the small kitchen area, his boyfriend looked up at him and smiled. The two hugged, both knew Patton was trying to work on his “smothering” tendencies.

“Go ask him how his lunch went. I know you don’t want to be overbearing but I think he will want to talk about it,” Logan said, attempting to comfort his partner. When he saw Patton attempting to protest, he cut him off, saying, “No buts, he knows you didn’t mean any harm and I know how curious you are. I may not be good at emotions but I am good at reading body language, he wanted to tell you. Go talk to him.”

Patton nodded and went to find Roman in their small apartment.

Roman heard a knock on his door and looked to see Patton in the doorway, so Roman let him in.

“So, how was your lunch date?” Patton queried.

Seeing the opportunity to mend things, Roman told Patton everything, including the almost fight on Black Friday.

When he was done, his friend said, “Well we have a game night in a couple of days and you should invite him.”

“What if he says no?” Roman asked, obviously anxious.

“I doubt he will, and if he has a roommate then invite said roommate as well. You said he was new here right? Say it is a welcome to the building event,” Patton said, giving Roman not only an excuse but a cookiecutter way to deal with his nerves about asking him over.

“Alright Patton, thank you,” Roman said, gracious he had such an intelligent friend.

After Patton had left to help Logan with dinner, Roman pulled his phone out to text Virgil.

Me: Hey, this is Roman, so my roommates and I are having a game night and since you are new, Patton thought of inviting you and your roommate(s)

Emo Knightmare: I know who you are, dingus. When is it?

Me: friday @ 8

Emo Knightmare: I will ask my roommate and get back to you

Virgil got up off the couch and went to the kitchen to start making dinner, deciding that spaghetti was a good option. As Virgil began boiling the water and getting out the sauce ingredients, his roommate Emerson walked in. Once he saw what Virgil was doing, he joined by helping with prepping the vegetables. As Emerson was cutting the tomatoes, Virgil cleared his throat and said, “So remember the person I was eating lunch with today?”

“Oh, you mean the one that totally didn’t cause me to worry?” Emerson asked, obviously remembering who he was.

“Yeah, well, he lives here and invited us to a game night on Friday at 8 at his apartment with his roommates,” Virgil said, “I was going to go, but the invitation was open to you as well so… up to you.”

“As long as I am not busy. Besides, I want to give this boy a piece of my mind,” Emerson responded.

“You are such a dad, Em,” Virgil responded.

“Shut up. At least I can take care of myself beyond basic skills,” Emerson said.

“Do not even speak of self-care to me, Mr. I only eat when I am forced,” Virgil snapped, enjoying the banter.

“That’s you, dumbass,” Emerson stated, correct of course.

“Shut up and cut the vegetables,” Virgil said, ending the banter.

After the two made and ate dinner, Virgil went to his room and texted Roman that they should be able to make it Friday. While Virgil’s intent was to simply send that text, it didn’t end there, he failed miserably. He failed because he ended up texting Roman until midnight.

On Friday night, Virgil and Emerson walked over to Roman's apartment with brownies and some chips. When the door opened, Virgil didn't see Roman, but a man with freckles, glasses, dark curly hair, and pale skin. The said man began to introduce himself, "Hi, my name is Patton Campbell," then he opened the door and introduced the other two near the door, "And this is Logan and Roman Darcy."

"Hi, I am Virgil Poe and this is my roommate Emerson Croft," Virgil responded, gesturing towards his friend as he introduced him.

Then the tall man with glasses, presumably Logan, spoke up and said, "Are you by some chance related to Edgar Allen Poe's cousin since the man himself didn't have his own children?"

"Sadly, it's not very likely but you definitely know your stuff," Virgil replied, impressed.

After that comment, Patton opened the door wider to let in his guests. As they walked in, Patton studied them. Virgil was lanky, of Asian descent, with dark hair that was dyed purple. Emerson was tall with light brown hair and what appeared to be scars on the left side of his face and neck. As he stared, Emerson asked with a flirty smile, "Like what you see?"

Patton looked at his feet, feeling the blood rush to his face as he fumbled to say, "Sorry I was, uh, I was curious about your scars. I apologize for being rude."

Emerson chuckled and said, "I was just messing with you. If you're really curious, when I was a kid there was a fire in our kitchen and I ended up getting burned. It left more than these scars on my face and neck, I had lots of therapy but I'm good now. If anything, the scars remind me not to be dumb."

Emerson watched Patton look at him with pity? No, more like empathy. It confused him but he didn't question it. Emerson walked into the apartment and looked at the roommates of Patton. Logan was tall and fairly thin, he wore dark square-framed glasses that were similar to the common nerd glasses. Roman was only about an inch shorter than Logan, likely Hispanic due to his darker skin and accent, and had a more organized curl to his dark hair.

Emerson walked in and deposited the pan of brownies and bag of chips on the counter where Logan had gestured for him to put them.

After the five shared a dinner of pizza, they moved to the living room with snack food and board games. After going through several games including Fluxx, Uno, Sorry, and a very long game of Life, Emerson shared that he had brought his own game to share with the group called "Coup". He pulled the game out from under the brownie pan and took it out to the laundry room.

After he finished explaining how the game was played, Patton spoke up and queried, "So, you're supposed to lie?"

"Well, it makes the game more fun if I'm truly honest," Emerson responded.

"Ok, but how are you fine with that morally?" Patton challenged.

"Simple, I don't necessarily see a problem with small lies. Honesty can be nice for some things, but to be fully honest is a delusion set by society," Emerson said, cool as an ice cube.

"But how will people know if you're being honest about something? If you're known to consistently lie, people can't trust you," Patton challenged.

"If you truly know someone, you know when they lie about it and I know plenty of people who trust me, I mean look at Virgil," Emerson stated, continuing the discussion.

" I see your point. Can we agree to disagree and maybe discuss this later?" Patton requested.

Emerson smiled and responded, "Sure, get some good points ready. Alright, let's play Coup."

As Patton played Coup and got the hang of it and lying, he sensed feelings forming for Emerson and very readily decided to bury them, him being polyamorous has only caused the problem in the past.

Later that night, after Virgil and Emerson had gone home, Logan approached his boyfriend to talk to him about their guests. He cleared his throat and said, "So, I'm a figurative fan of our guests. Also, I think Roman might be falling for Virgil."

Patton chuckled as he said, "Yeah, you're not alone in either of those thoughts. I liked them, Virgil was fun and Emerson was interesting. If we do the Christmas party I'd like to invite them."

"That would be enjoyable," at that moment Logan looked at Patton and queried, "Hey are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a little drained," Patton lied, knowing he had no right to judge Emerson for lying.

Logan was aware that Patton was lying, but also knew that he wouldn't push, and stated, " Then let's get to bed dear."

That night both had a troubled night's sleep.

Virgil did not, that's because he was up late texting Roman. He went to bed around 2 which is not abnormal for him and he didn't have to work until 1 so it was fine. He had fun at the game night and would have definitely wanted Patton and Em together if it wasn't obvious that Patton was with Logan, so not likely. But then again what did he know. Virgil was truly grateful that Picani had hired him and didn't always have him come to work early since their office was still smaller but it was nice. As he walked in, he waved to their receptionist Elliot and he walked back to his office to look at his scheduled patients.

After a long day of back to back sessions, Virgil finally closed the office for the day at 9 pm. As he walked out to his car, he saw that Emerson had texted him saying that he had ordered pizza and needed Virgil to pick it up. Since Virgil had eaten a late lunch and no dinner yet, he was very grateful his roommate had a similar schedule.

Virgil arrived at his apartment and carried the pizza in, calling for Emerson. He walked in as Virgil sat the pizza on the dining room table. As the two sat down to eat, Emerson decided to spark a conversation, "So, how was the office?"

"It was nice, good steady stream and I got to meet a couple of new clients that I hope to continue seeing us," Virgil answered, it was pretty obvious how much he cared about these patients, "How was managing today? Any new Karens?"

"Thankfully no. Only interacted with two today and they weren't the worst," Emerson responded.

The rest of the pizza was eaten in a quiet space with little small talk made, it was comfortable and they were okay with it.

After Virgil finished his share of the pizza, he loaded his dishes and went to his room to work on a couple of commissions, he had to pay off his loans somehow. While he was working on one, he received a text from Roman. Virgil checked it and told Roman he was working on a commission so texting would be scarce. A few minutes later Roman responded and said he could Facetime if Virgil agreed. Virgil figured it couldn’t cause any harm, so he called Roman.

Roman answered Virgil's call, not knowing what to expect but was still definitely thrown off guard. Virgil was in slacks and a purple dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his hair wasn't falling over his eyes, the only makeup that Roman could see him wearing was the foundation. Roman was surprised and definitely swooning.

"Hello, Sir Roman, like what ya see?" Virgil teased when he saw Roman was starting to stare.

Roman snapped into reality and fumbled to say, "I'm just surprised to see you looking so professional."

"Oh I take offense to that Princey, better watch out or I may start crying. Wouldn't want to be the cause of gay hate crime now, would we? " Virgil teased.

"First off, I'm not straight so take notes. Secondly, aw pobrecito. Go cry me a river, build yourself a bridge, and get over it," Roman countered.

Virgil was a little bit impressed but Roman didn't need to know, it would go straight to his ego. As he turned back to his tablet as he said, "we can keep talking but I want to get this commission finished, so I'm not ignoring you, just working."

Roman chuckled as he countered, "Now who is a homophobe?"

Virgil very lightly blushed but his it well and responded with a simple 'touché'.

To say they had a productive phone call would be lying so hard that Emerson would even call bullshit. Roman mostly stared at the cute Virgil and occasionally made small talk while Virgil mostly paid attention to his tablet. Roman definitely wasn't complaining, that just meant he could watch and slowly fall in love like he was living in a fucking fanfiction.

After a while, Roman decided to say good night so he could sleep since he had to be at the theater earlier because they had a performance tomorrow. When Virgil heard this, he asked, “When is it? I’ll come to see it if Dr. Picani is cool with it.”

“Oh, we are doing two performances. The first is at 4:00 and the second is at 8:00,” Roman answered.

“Aren’t you kind of overworking them? I mean, these are passionate theatre kids, they put everything into their performances and you are making them do two performances on the same day and a mere ten days before Christmas. I may have never acted, but I also did tech and I have a feeling these kids are going to crash,” Virgil said, clearly passionate about these kids and their health.

“I get that, however, we couldn’t find two days in a row that worked for everyone and they were all cool with it. On top of that, I am providing them with dinner at about 7:00 and also have the backroom set up for them to nap. I am going to take care of these kids, I promise,” Roman said, trying to assure Virgil.

“Well, on Sundays I work until about 5:00, so I can come help with feeding those kids and maybe go back to the tech tower,” Virgil responded.

Soon after that point, Roman hung up then went to get ready for bed. As he stared at himself in the mirror, Roman began to realize that he was starting to feel romantic feelings for Virgil. Not that Roman was necessarily complaining, but it was unexpected. Then again, Roman was always the romantic one. Roman went bed, contemplating what he was going to do new feelings.

Virgil was walking out to his car after work and got in as he received a text from Roman. It was telling Virgil where to get the pizza from.

Virgil walked into the theater with the pizzas and was met with a slightly frantic Roman. Virgil walked in, set the pizzas down and decided to calm Roman down. "What the fuck is wrong, Roman?" Virgil questioned, slightly concerned.

"Our mic guy got sick like 20 minutes ago so I need someone to work mics and by golly, I can't get anyone to help," Roman responded, starting to breathe like a french bulldog that has been walking for more than 10 minutes or hyperventilating.

"I can run mice so if you don't start breathing normally in the next ten seconds, you're bloodline will end," Virgil threatened.

"My bloodline is going to end because my twin and I are both gay so you made an empty threat," Roman countered, breathing deeply.

"Ok, that's fair. So tech tower still the same?" Virgil questioned.

"Wait, you're actually going to help me?" Roman asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, you idiot. Now, what do I need to know?" Virgil asked, itching to be in his place.

"We don't need music, just mics. I'll send a backstage person up to help with mic checks. You are literally a lifesaver," Roman answered gratefully.

Virgil ran to the staircase that led to the tech tower, ready to be back in his element. Virgil always knew if being a therapist didn't work out, he would've done tech for theaters.

Mic checks happened and cast lists were given and before he knew it, Roman was on stage and introducing the play. And Virgil would deny it to his grave, but he definitely thought Roman was pretty cute with the light shining on his face and Roman's passionate tone introducing the play.

After the play, Roman profusely thanked Virgil who shrugged it off. The two decided they were both tired and Virgil helped Roman clean up and they headed home.

Roman walked into his apartment and was bombarded with questions on how the play went, if someone showed up to help with sound, and who did. Roman answered them with ease. Despite it being close to midnight, Logan and Patton decided to plan their Christmas eve party. Patton started with invites, “So who do we want to come?”

Roman started, “Well, I think we should invite Virgil and Emerson, along with Remus, since we haven’t seen him in a while.”

Logan nodded in agreement and said, “I also want to invite my cousin, Remy and his fiance Emile.”

Patton nodded as he wrote them down and asked, “What about Thomas? Also, do Virgil or Emerson have partners they would like to bring?”

“Virgil is single,” Roman chimed in.

“So is Emerson,” Logan added.

“Cool, quick question, Logan is your information on Emerson accurate, I just want to make sure,” Patton added.

“Yes, I saw him at work dealing with, what I believe Roman would call, ‘a Karen’. Afterward, we struck up a conversation about life and I happened to ask him,” Logan replied, confident in the information given to him. Logan also pretended not to see the light in Patton’s eyes when said information was supported.

“Ok, so what about Thomas?” Patton questioned since he had never gotten a direct answer.

Roman looked offended as he said, “Of course, why would we not invite him?”

“I didn’t want to assume. So we are at nine people, are there any others that we want to invite?” Patton questioned.

“I think that Thomas can bring a couple of people if he wants, he is your brother Patton, you talk to him. I don’t care who comes, I trust you guys,” Logan said, hoping that Patton saw the deeper meaning in the statement about trust. Logan thinks he did, as realization dawned on Patton soon after Logan said it.

The three finished planning quickly and afterward, Logan dragged Patton down next to him so they could cuddle. After a bit, Logan finally decided to bring up the figurative elephant in the room, he cleared his throat as a warning and started with a question, “Patton are you okay?”

“Of course, why would you ask that?” Patton asked, defensively.

Logan sighed at the lie and said, “Because I know you are lying. I am not going to force you to tell me but I really wish you would.”

Patton got really quiet as he realized he had been caught doing what he had criticized Emerson for. After a bit, he finally said, “I am polyamorous and I am pretty sure that I am falling for Emerson.”

Logan breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I am glad you told me. Now, we need to talk about this. Do you want to pursue a relationship with him?”

Patton nervously chuckled as he asked, “You are okay with this part of me?”

“Of course, I love all of you, even what society thinks is unconventional. Now can we talk about this?” Logan asked.

“Sure and to answer your previous question, yes I do, if he wants to,” Patton admitted.

“Can we discuss boundaries then?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely, I am willing to listen and discuss,” Patton answered.

Logan smiled at how excited Patton was for the obvious support that he had never been given, then he got a little mad about Patton’s previous partners. He brushed that off and said, “It’s obviously not a lot and I think if Emerson agrees, we still need to talk to him. For me, all I ask is, if you guys ever do it, use protection, please don’t make fun of me or gossip, and if you feel that one of us isn’t working, don’t be afraid to talk or end a relationship, even if you’re guilty because it is with me.”

Patton nodded and said, “I can definitely handle those. Two questions, Do you want this to be a 3-way relationship? And do you care if I talk about him?”

“For now and this is subject to change, no. Secondly, I don’t care and if it makes you feel better, I will let you know if I get uncomfortable,” Logan answered.

December 22, 2019, will be forever ingrained into Virgil’s brain, to be specific, 11:32 pm on December 22, 2019. That is because it is the Virgil realized that he was falling in love with Roman Darcy. It was a normal night of texting and suddenly the man decides he can just sleepily Facetime Virgil. Naturally, Virgil answered and was met with a freaking cute, sleepy Roman and it was over for Virgil. Roman had called to invite Virgil to a Christmas eve party and Virgil agreed. Afterward, Roman proceeded to ramble about Beetlejuice the Musical and how it really fits Virgil’s aesthetic for about fifteen minutes until Virgil says he needs to sleep because he has work early in the morning. After Roman said goodbye and ended the call, Virgil did not sleep, he wrestled his emotions.

It was Christmas eve and Emerson and Virgil were knocking on the door. The door was opened by Logan and when he questioned why they were here so early, Emerson answered, “Patton texted me to come a bit early and I decided to bring Virgil along because I can. You can send him home if necessary.” Virgil smacked Emerson’s arm with that statement and Logan chuckled.

“Patton is in the kitchen Emerson, Virgil, we could get to know each other better,” Logan offered.

“Well Mr. Darcy, you drive a hard bargain but I shall accept,” Virgil drawled.

The two moved to the living room while Emerson walked to the kitchen only to be met by an obviously nervous Patton. Patton dragged Emerson to the hall and back by a bathroom, took a deep breath, and started, “There are two things I need to tell you. Firstly, I am polyamorous. Secondly, I am starting to care about you in a romantic sense.”

“I like you too, but what about Logan?” Emerson questioned.

“Logan and I have already had a basic conversation about this and if you want to do this, he wants to talk to both of us,” Patton answered.

“Ok, let’s talk about this first,” Emerson said.

While those two were talking, Logan and Virgil were discussing the party and who would be there.

“Well, Roman’s twin, Remus will be there, Patton’s brother Thomas, my cousin Remy, along with Remy’s fiance, and possibly a couple of other people,” Logan said.

“Wait. Is Remy not Roman’s cousin too? I assumed you two were related,” Virgil responded, confused.

“Well, Roman and I are stepbrothers, my father married their mother when I was younger and adopted Roman and Remus. They took the Darcy last name. Roman claims Remy as an honorary cousin though,” Logan answered.

“Oh, that’s fun. Has Roman always been this extra or stubborn?” Virgil asked.

“Sadly,” Logan sighed, “Although, some would say that I am the same as him.”

“I guess it’s definitely possible. But I have only seriously talked to you like twice,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Logan admitted, “Anyways, this party is more like a get-together. We get pizza and snack food, some alcohol, unspiked punch, and other beverages. We occasionally play party games and such. It is pretty laid back.”

“That’s good. Did we need to bring a contribution?” Virgil asked.

“No. We are good,” Logan answered.

Right after Logan said that Roman emerged from his room. He was obviously unaware that Virgil was there and Roman was not at his finest. Logan chuckled and when this happened, Roman exclaimed, “What are you laughing at, Jester?”

“Well, Virgil is here and you are quite obviously unaware. I just find that amusing,” Logan said bluntly.

“Alright, Microsoft Nerd. I will have you know that even if Virgil were here, which he isn’t, I wouldn’t care,” Roman exclaimed, still not looking in the living room.

“Hey Princey,” Virgil said, teasing Roman.

Logan would treasure the look on Roman’s face forever and hoped he never forgot it because it was a figurative gift.

Soon after Roman’s cruel jumpscare, he noticed that Patton and Emerson walked into the living room and whispered to Logan about something. Roman decided to grab Virgil, not literally of course, however, he called, “Hey Virgil, I need to show you something in the hallway.” Virgil got up and followed Roman, obviously reading the situation.

The two went to Roman’s room, looked around at Roman’s stuff, bonded, pined hopelessly, and shared memes until the party.

At the Christmas Eve party, Virgil mingled with the people at the party. He met Remus, who was interesting, Patton’s brother Thomas, and a few of Thomas’ friends. He also found out that his boss, Dr. Picani, was engaged to Logan’s cousin Remy; not that Virgil didn’t know that the doctor was engaged or the name of said fiance, but Virgil just never connected the dots. Turns out that Remy works in a coffee shop where Virgil tends to get coffee. He also enjoyed some food and by later in the evening, Virgil was a bit tipsy but still in control of his mind and body, just a less anxious and inhibited. So when Virgil ended up under the mistletoe with Roman on accident near the end of the party, he didn’t resist as much as he might have if sober when Roman said they should keep the tradition of kissing. So they did and as soon as Virgil realized what he had done, he calmly moved on and went to tell his roommate he was leaving early. So after interrupting Patton and Emerson and alerting his roommate where he was going, he left, calmly and quietly.

Once he was in the safety of his own apartment, Virgil broke down. He started to hyperventilate and cry. He felt like he was dying. Somewhere in his brain, he thought of his grounding techniques, and by think of them, he means he saw the paper on the wall that Emerson had made him tape there in case Virgil had a panic attack alone. While he would never admit that his roommate was right, Virgil was grateful that it was there. After Virgil calmed down, he decided to shower and get some sleep that he desperately needs.

Roman was majorly confused. Not just the normal amount of confusion that he dealt with, that most people experience, but majorly confused. He figured that Virgil wasn’t more than a little tipsy since he had only drunk a little bit of champagne. Maybe Virgil was more inebriated than originally thought or maybe Roman was wrong about Virgil liking him. He would never truly know unless he approached Virgil. However, he couldn’t do that since he couldn’t find Virgil. Roman had planned this the night of the play. His plan had backfired and he needed to do damage control. Roman looked around, asked Emerson, and found out that Virgil had left and gone back to his apartment. Roman decided to listen to the logical voice in his brain and wait until the next day to talk to Virgil, so he mingled until everyone was home and went to bed, troubled.

Emerson was very happy, he’d even go as far as ecstatic. The guy he likes is attracted to him too. They are going together. Things were looking up for him. Everything except Virgil, and in turn, Roman. The thing is, Emerson knows that Virgil likes Roman, he has known for a while because Virgil is not really inconspicuous. Emerson also saw what happened last night under the mistletoe and figured that Roman felt the same. So Emerson sat at the table, awaiting Virgil.

When Virgil emerged from his bedroom, ragged and tired, Emerson knew his friend had a rough night dealing with everything. Pushing coffee towards him, Emerson said, “You look like you need it.” He knew Virgil would talk about it when he was ready.

Virgil sipped some coffee, cleared his throat and said, “I made a major mistake as you probably saw.”

“Well, Patton just texted me sharing Roman’s state. Not great, fix that,” Emerson aggressively shared.

“Why do I have to do that now? It’s still raw and how do you know it’s my fault?” Virgil asked defensively.

“It isn’t just your fault but some of the fault is on you. You are an adult, you need to communicate with him and fix this. At least before the new year,” Emerson parented.

“Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnneeeeeeee,” Virgil groaned. Virgil did intend on talking to Roman, just not today. He would tomorrow since Roman likely wanted to spend Christmas with his friends and family. So tomorrow would work for him.

Little did Virgil know, that tomorrow would turn into the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, until almost a week later he saw Roman getting mail and decided that he needed to say something. Clearing his throat, Virgil spoke up, “Hey Roman.”

Roman turned around and saw the man who had captured his heart and ripped it to pieces. Close to tears, he responded with a simple hey.

Virgil could tell that Roman was upset and said, “We definitely need to talk. Are you free now?”

“Not sure I want to talk to you honestly. However, I figured it would happen eventually so let me text my friends and let them know so they don’t worry,” Roman agreed reluctantly.

“Ok, I need to do the same,” Virgil replied.

They both sent their texts then decided to walk through the walkway in their apartment complex. Roman didn’t want to be the first to say something but in the time that Roman had gotten to know Virgil, he knew Virgil wouldn’t start.

“So about Christmas Eve,” Virgil started.

Ok so Roman was wrong, he could accept that. In fact, more than happy to accept it right now. So Roman continued with a simple reply of Christmas eve.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, I felt and still do feel really bad about it,” Virgil blurted.

“What? Why do you think you were taking advantage of me?” Roman yelled, questioning what the heck had gotten into his emo nightmare.

“I had seen you with alcohol and assumed. Plus, who would want to be with me,” Virgil reasoned.

“Firstly, you also drank alcohol. Secondly, I want to be with you,” Roman confessed.

“You barely know me,” Virgil countered.

“I know enough, we can get to know each other when dating,” Roman argued.

“I am not sure you would want to stay with me if you knew me and I don’t need to get hurt,” Virgil admitted.

“So, you don’t know that, you obviously like me a lot and don’t know enough about me. No one wants to hurt but it is part of life, once we can accept that, life gets easier. And to paraphrase the 11th Doctor, happiness is important because it can help with sadness later. I would prefer to have happy memories even if we don’t work out,” Roman said, wanting to reach this boy that he had grown to love.

“Can I think about this and let you know on New Year’s?” Virgil questioned.

“Of course, you can even let me know at the New Year’s Eve party,” Roman offered.

Virgil gave a simple alright as he walked back with Roman. Roman was happy he had talked with Virgil and figured some stuff out.

Roman walked into his apartment, lighter and happier than he had originally been. Patton could tell that something good had happened. As he sat in the living room with his boyfriend who had ended up falling asleep during their movie session, Patton smiled and texted his other boyfriend that things may have worked out.

As Virgil walked into his apartment Emerson decided to speak up with a comment, “Maybe I should stop sending you to get the mail. You take a long time.”

Virgil jumped a bit then looked and saw it was his idiotic roommate. “Dude, I hate you. I finally talked to Roman, like you suggested. So there you go,” Virgil said.

“Good for you on listening to me, also I knew because Patton texted me thinking some progress was made,” Emerson replied flippantly, “You two finally together because I am sick of watching you two pine for each other.”

“No, we aren’t, I need to think about some stuff first. Also, stop gossiping about me with your boyfriend,” Virgil whined like a teenager.

Virgil left the living room and went to his room to work on commissions and think about his feelings towards Roman and a relationship.

An hour and a half later, Virgil had finished a project and decided what he wanted to do about Roman.

It was New Year’s Eve and Logan was sick of watching his stepbrother try to perfect the arrangement of their alcohol and decorations. He could tell Roman was nervous to hear about Virgil’s decision about a relationship. Of course, Logan knew what Virgil had decided, he had received a text asking for details about the party and Logan had asked. After swearing to secrecy, Virgil had told him. If Logan was honest, he found it quite humorous watching the mini freakout that Roman was watching. Eventually, Patton tapped Roman on the shoulder and told him to go relax and breathe.

Virgil knew that the party had started at 10 pm, but Virgil knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Roman for two hours so, he was showing up at 11:30. Virgil knocked on the door and saw that Emerson had answered it. Virgil asked a quick question, “Roman’s location?”

“Kitchen,” was the only reply that Virgil needed. So he walked into the living room and began talking with his coworker and friend, Dr. Picani for a few minutes and proceeded to move on. He followed this cycle until about five minutes to midnight when Roman found Virgil. Virgil finished his statement and excused himself, very aware that Roman was anxious for an answer. They were barely in the hallway when Roman asked, “So, what’s your decision?”

“Wow Princey, no ‘Hi, how are you’ just straight to what I can do for you,” Virgil teased.

“Hi Virgil, how are you?” Roman asked flippantly.

“I am great, how are you, Roman?” Virgil said, continuing to tease.

“Very nervous,” Roman said, clearly irritated.

“Oh, why is that?” Virgil said, feigning innocence.

“Well the boy I love is refusing to tell me his decision,” Roman stated. Right as Roman had said that, the countdown to midnight started.

“Well here is the answer you so desperately want,” Virgil said, and when the countdown hit zero, Virgil kissed Roman, when he was done, Virgil asked, “Did that answer your question?”

“Yes, it did,” Roman said and kissed Virgil again, “Want to go out next Saturday night?”

“I should be free,” Virgil teased as he grabbed the hand of the boy he had fallen for.

“All of this over a crockpot too,” Roman commented.

Virgil smacked him and said, “Are you complaining, cause like give me the crockpot and I will go.”

“Just kidding,” Roman teased and kissed the very happy emo.

56 notes · View notes