#cecisghost

primavitya >> itsfrickincas

@cecisghost Remember when you commissioned me and I wanted to draw the pizza renaissance photo and you were like “no, anything but the pizza renaissance” but then you never gave me a reference photo anyway?

More glorified tailor than fashion designer, Dean wins the chance of a lifetime to appear on Project Runway's new menswear season. Pressures of competition, getting along with his fellow designers, and being filmed 24/7 are one kind of torture. But nothing compares to his horror when he realizes his growing crush on model, Castiel. The cameras don't pick up on that stuff, right? 

60,000 words | Dean/Cas AU | eventual NC-17 | work in progress

"You're going, Dean. You can't just turn them down."

Even a shitty Skype connection can't blunt Sam's tenacity. Dean's baby brother is like a draft horse, all but stomping his hooves on the other side of the internet, keyed up and raring to go. The video froze five minutes ago into pixelated abstract, but Dean doesn't need visual proof to be able to picture Sam's expression. It'll be that right mix of stubborn and concerned, perfect bait for a guilt trap.

He feeds another fold into the sewing machine, adding a contrasting seam to the lapel of the mock-up suit jacket he's making for Frank's new collection.

"You know you can't, like, literally make me go."

He has to shout a bit to be heard. In the mess of preparation for the launch of the spring line, his laptop got stashed on top of a box of fabric samples on the other side of the room, occupying the only free surface in his cramped apartment.

"Even if you flew all the way out here from California and physically packed the suitcase for me . . . I kick, man. Your shins would never make it to the airport."

The video lurches back to life for a moment as Sam flops backwards onto his bed with his phone, groan sounding like a dying cow over the connection. Staccato frames show glimpses of a blue bedspread, then the shoulder seam of Sam's grey t-shirt, then the wet ends of his droopy too-long mop of hair. Sam must have just come back from the gym before he called. Wednesdays he has an early finish, leaving him time in the afternoon to stress-lift weights and nag Dean.

"You're being ridiculous," Sam points out, all wise and patient, like he's the older sibling here. "You know that, right? You went to the auditions. And you went to the call-backs. Why bother doing any of that if you planned to turn them down when they offered you a spot?"

Dean waits, but Sam doesn't follow up, so it's not a rhetorical question. Sam wants a real answer. The thing is, Dean doesn't know if he has one.

YOU POSTED IT EARLIER ON TWITTER AND I READ IT it was really good and the jon snow line was really funny and you’re a great writer and i cant believe you didnt know they kill the bulls and i hope you’re okay that sounds traumatizing