A/N: Hello Everyone! I'm so excited for this piece, because I took a dang long time to storyboard and work this whole thing out (for once, I actually know where a story is going... mostly. lol) The prompt I got was...
Please do a Destiel XO with Project Runway. At some point they do the challenge where the designers do each other's family members, and Castiel complains about how fucking huge Sam is
But I'll be getting to that bit later on... for now, enjoy the first Chapter, and I'll be sure to update the tags with all the other references I'll be making as I go along. Please enjoy, and thank you SO SO SO MUCH to my bidder who basically made this whole story possible. You were the Muse of this creation.
Now Enjoy!
Rolling dark clouds pass by outside the window. Flickers of lightning, lighting them up like fireworks.
Fury of lighting could not contend
There's a single bent lamp lighting up the desk workspace. Illuminating the silhouette of a brunette woman in a neat green felt dress.
With the man to which he did intend
She's writing with a flowing ink pen, black smudges outline the edges. She scratches at her head, displacing the straight chestnut locks.
Hoping for someday to make amends
To get back what once he did lend
She scratches out the next few words then makes a groan of frustration. Staring out the window she brings the end of the pen to her lips, chewing in contemplation. When suddenly inspiration strikes. She places the pen to the paper hurriedly.
Even though for it he did not consent
But the man who's fury did not relent
Would wait until proper intent
Things were often said that were not meant
This is the peril when you act above
The push and pull of your true love...
She stalls again. This time the minutes pass with the beating of thunder outside her window. The pen returns to her lips as she reads over the words again and again. They're right, they're good, but there is still something missing. There's still that itch that hasn't been scratched. The pen leaves her lips and she drops it to the desk in utter frustration. Groaning, her head falls into her hands, attempting to massage away the quickly forming headache. Why were these two so difficult? Couldn't they just play by the rules?
A large pair of hands clamp down on her shoulders causing her to startle. Pulling away slightly she looks back into the face of her husband. Sighing in relief, she leans back into his chest, his hands smoothing over her arms.
"You're overthinking it mi amor." He tells her, leaning in to kiss the top of her head.
"I can't help it, Coy, I've got to get this out of me before it explodes." Coy chuckles at his wife and pulls her chin up to face him.
"Perhaps we should return to your inspiration station, Era." Coy lightly strokes her neck, his muscles flexing and drawing her eyes to the colorful, structured tattoos adorning his biceps trailing down to his forearms; mainly black line work in a block structure, twisting and turning with white and blue highlights. She catches sight of his wonderful dark features in the lamplight. Dark eyes, dark hair, warm skin, sharp bone structure. Achingly beautiful. Era lets her hand trail up his beautiful arms, content for a moment to just be with the person she loves. Coy leans down and lets their lips meet in a comforting embrace that turns up a notch steadily. Era hums into the kiss and Coy pulls away.
"If only our love was enough to inspire me for the rest of time." Era wishes out loud.
"As long as you're mine forever I don't mind finding new ways to entertain you, mi amor." Coy pats her shoulders once. "Come on. Let's go tune in and see if there's been any progress." Era nods at this and stands up, letting her husband take her hand and lead her over to the couch. Coy sits, drawing his lover into his embrace. Era snuggles in and watches as Coy picks up the remote, then lets his gaze drift over to her warm brown eyes and smiles.
The large flat screen TV flips on displaying a bunch of people surrounding a campfire, some in various states of snuggling. Sunset in the distance of a sandy beautiful beach. The people look around, a bit wary of one another.
"Boring." Era says flippantly, and Coy switches the channel. Next the screen is showing a spinning green wheel and a bunch of letters on the board. A contestant raises a shaking hand to take something off the wheel and nervously picks at the side of the wedge. Their eyes raise to the person next to them who gives them a nervous smile in return. "Boringer." Era declares and Coy presses the button. This continues for some time, flashing through various game shows and contests. Singers, dancers, people winning money, winning a race, trying to win votes. None of it stirs anything in Era. Her husband appears troubled, running his fingers up and down her arm in thought. Then it strikes him, clicking the remote.
A sliding shot of New York City floats across their screen. Then three men walking side by side down the sidewalk. One's tall with shining hair, another has a determined look on his face, and the last is in a long coat, looks utterly perplexed.
"What's this?" Era questions, casting a side-eye at her husband.
"Something new," Coy responds. Era nods and turns her gaze back.
"Be careful! You can't trust these city people. No man, he doesn't want it." That was the grumpy one, blocking a street salesman from the still perplexed man. His arm goes around the shoulders of the tan coat man and pulls him gently away.
"He was offering me a reasonable deal on his latest album. I thought you might enjoy-"
"Not that kinda music man. My artists won't be out on the streets selling their stuff." The dark haired one looks disappointed, but the lighter haired man smiles putting his freckles on display. "But I appreciate the sentiment." This makes the darker haired man smile. They stare into each others eyes, piercing blue and warm green. The whole moment seems to last seconds longer than necessary. Era takes in a gasp at the intensity. Then the lighter haired one pats his friend on the back as he pulls away from the embrace. The tall one from before comes over suddenly, breaking the last lingering look as he points over their heads at their destination. They're off walking down the street again.
"Who are they?" Era asks, unable to peel her eyes from the screen.
"Do you like them? I just found them last week, you can practically taste it in the air around them." Coy turns a wolfish grin on his wife, and she nods eyes wide, unable to look away from the men on the screen.
"I think they're my favorite yet." Era licks her lips, brain already spinning with ideas and ways they might come together.
"Then it's done. They're yours." Coy says, gently playing with a strand of his wife's hair.
"Oh, I love you, Coyōtl." She says, turning to him and crawling into his lap.
"Anything for you my precious Erata." He says against her lips before sealing the deal.
"I still do not understand the point of this trip," Cas says, frown lines crinkling up his forehead as he dodges another hoard of people with their cellphones pointing up to take pictures.
"We promised Charlie. Told her that if we didn't have a case it would be a shame to waste the passes." Sam explains as he takes a large step over a particularly nasty puddle, then spots the building in the distance. A large glass pyramid connecting to a large glass dome reflecting the overcast day above them.
"Come on, Sam. You're just as excited about this as I am! I mean the Stan Lee! William freaking Shatner! Sigourney Weaver! Hulk Hogan! I'm a kid in a nerdy candy store!" Dean gestures excitedly as they stop to wait at a crosswalk. A throng of people surrounds them with colorful lanyards and decorative badges to match Team Free Will. Cas thumbs at his, giving it another curious look, then startles as Dean elbows him to signify they can cross.
"I'm more excited about the cast of the Walking Dead, Colin Baker, John Barrowman-"
"Dude! Colin Baker was like the worst Doctor." Sam gives Dean a mid-grade level bitch face which Dean just laughs at. "But John Barrowman is pretty cool. I can relate to him." Dean shrugs, trying to be casual. Sam looks over at Dean, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh really? You never mentioned that. What part is relatable… the part where he's basically a renegade space cowboy or the part where he's into getting with any-"
"Obviously the first part!" Dean interrupts, but Sam watches with a smirk as Dean's cheeks turn a shade of red that makes him all too obvious.
"Was John Barrowman the attractive American in the first season of Doctor Who?" Cas interjects, making Dean blush brighter and Sam cough to hide a laugh.
"Yep, that's the one!" Sam answers.
"I suppose it would be interesting to meet him." Cas muses, looking back towards their destination. Dean is spluttering in between them, stuck between upset, confused, and embarrassed. Suddenly he stumbles on an uneven curb causing him to bump into Cas who steadies him with a hand across his middle. Before Dean can tell Cas to back off, Cas is stepping away pointing vaguely across the street. "Why are there so many people dressed in this red and blue spandex suit? Is it of significance to this function?" Dean follows the gesture and sees the iconic outfit mentioned and laughs.
"Dude, those are people dressed as Spiderman! A famous comic book character written by Stan Lee."
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Cas asks with a tilt of his head squinting his eyes at Dean.
"Man, you're an alien. But it's sorta refreshing." Dean smiles and claps Cas on the shoulder.
"Spiderman is a teenager who was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained… spider-esque ." Sam explains as they step into one of the very long lines outside the grand building. There are more people in costume around them now, various superheroes and fantasy creatures… a lot of zombies.
"That seems highly unlikely," Cas responds, turning away from the brothers to observe the crowd again. Sam laughs and Dean pulls out his phone, swiping a few times and putting it up to his ear. After a few moments, he speaks.
"Hey! We're here! Where should we meet you?"
The hall is crowded but Jean got here early, so she could set up and get settled in peace. The people on either side of her aren't there yet, so she sets down the box on the table and slings down her backpack onto one of the folding chairs. She breathes in the scent of convention, her third one this year. It finally feels like things for her fanworks are about to take off.
Ten minutes later and her banner is hung on the divider, her business cards fanned out over the table and her prints spread on either side. With a sigh she moves the backpack and settles into the chair; slipping a hand into the back pouch she pulls out her tablet and starts to draw.
An hour passes, some familiar faces stop by to talk to her. She makes small chat, some artists commend her artist name for being clever. She checks her watch; it's less than half an hour until the doors open. The people on either side of her are fully set up now and the whole of Artist Alley is abuzz with excitement for the first day of con. Jean lets a smile curve her lips, feeling that familiar excitement course through her as she looks around.
That's when she sees the attractive woman a few booths away, swaggering her way past tables wearing a black suit jacket, white v neck, and dark ripped jeans. She has black and grey tattoos running down her neck and chest, covering her pale skin. They form a necklace like shape with large triangles spread evenly off of it. There are highlights of gold glinting in the lights, it's beautifully detailed artwork. She runs her fingers through short dark hair, buzzed close at the sides. Jean's mouth waters as the stranger approaches her table slipping her hands in her pockets.
"Jean Draws Dreams?" The attractive woman asks, pulling a toothpick out from between her teeth and meeting Jean's eyes with grey-blue steel that pierces her heart.
"Um, yeah. That's me!" Jean laughs awkwardly as she jumps up and tries to casually lean on the table. "See something you fancy?" The woman glances down at her work, twisting the toothpick between her thumb and forefinger. She gives Jean a deadly sexy smirk that makes her cheeks heat up.
"Yeah, actually. You must be Jean." Jean smiles, melting at the Aussie accent. Ugh, what about her isn't sexy?
"Yep, that's me. Jean the drawing Genie." God that was idiotic. She thinks to herself. The mystery woman huffs a small laugh, then gestures to her booth.
"I'm gonna need to take your booth." The woman says, lips stretching to form the long Aussie sound at the end of booth. There was an audible record scratch in Jean's brain.
"Say what?!"
"I'm commandeering it for a higher purpose. It would be best for you if you just left." She steps around the table, coming into Jean's space. Jean takes a step back, calf knocking over the little folding chair, her heart hammering in her chest. Her voice comes out squeaky and confused.
"You can't just take it! I paid for this. I worked hard for this a-all y- ye- y-" Jean stutters as the woman narrows her steely eyes at her, and turns her head to the side.
"Too bad." The woman raises her hand pointing at the banner behind Jean's head. Jean turns and watches in disbelief as her name and logo melt away, the colors waving like a mirage. Once the image stills it reads Coy Love Pursuits. "Boss needs it." Jean turns back to the mysterious woman as terror starts to shake her thighs.
"What are you?" Jean's voice comes out terrified and small.
"You would never understand, mate." She raises a hand towards Jean's head. Jean has a fleeting thought that if she has to die, at least it's at the hands of someone so beautiful. The woman's pointer finger lightly taps her temple. Then everything goes black.
A flash of red hair comes flying at them from across the room, somehow finding the one path clear of people… or perhaps creating one with the excited scream she's making. Then she's barreling into Dean and he's hugging her back, smiling.
"Hey, Charlie. Miss us?" The redhead pulls back and then punches Dean in the arm. "Ow!"
"Course I did you workaholic idiots!" Charlie quips then rolls her eyes as Dean holds his arm protectively.
"Hey, we don't pick the apocalypse schedule. It kinda picks us." Sam shrugs, holding his arms out in offering. Charlie turns to him and throws herself into his arms.
"Yeah, I guess I'll just have to have a word with the Fates about that one," Charlie responds as she pulls back.
"I wouldn't advise that. The Fates tend to be very… non negotiating." Cas adds, not realizing the sarcastic tone of the conversation. Charlie turns to him, the smile on her face not even faltering.
"And you must be Castiel! The real-life angel! I can't believe this is the first time I'm meeting you. You're awesome. Dean has told me so many stories," Cas smiles at this as Charlie tosses Dean a knowing look. "But he didn't say you were so handsome." Dean's blush makes a dazzling return at this comment. To Dean's spite and Sam's delight, Cas notices this and shoots Dean a confused look. Sam rolls his eyes. They're impossible.
"I'm not sure what the relative attractiveness of my vessel has to do with stories about me, but I am pleased to meet you as well Charlie." Cas extends an awkward hand and Charlie ignores it.
"Nope, sorry. You get one too." That's all the warning Cas gets before the red-headed firecracker has her arms wrapped around him. Cas looks confused, a seemingly perpetual look on his face at this point, before a tiny smile curls his lips upward and he manages to loosely wrap his arms around her. "Alright!" Charlie says, breaking away from Cas and clapping her hands together. "It's your first NYCC! You need buttons!"
A/N Cont: ALRIGHT HOW DID YOU LIKE IT SO FAR? It's gonna be about 10 chapters (rough guess, honestly.) and I have no clue how many words. My word count tends to fluctuate chapter to chapter (I mean... have you guys read GAPS? from 5k to 12k whiplash like WHAAA?) but it's all gonna be really fun, with some tension and case style mystery thrown in there. Please Review, Favorite, and Follow this story! Ya know, whatever you need to do to let me know you enjoyed this! Thanks again, all of you, see you on the flipside.