#what adult tried to ruin a child’s life for daring to date their child anyway

[brainweirdprincess]

I just realized my abusive ex’s mom made a tumblr account to monitor me. I don’t check who follows me but I was going through the list to find someone specific and saw that. She used her full name and the city we live in so I know it was her. This was years ago. I knew she was a pretty twisted bitch and has already tried to mess up my life several times but really? Her daughter abused me, sexually assaulted me and manipulated me for over a year. Then this grown woman outed me to literally everyone that would listen. Told teachers and school administrators lies about me and mom (who is a teacher) and now on top of that she was stalking me online??? Jesus those people are so fucked up. It’s like every time I start to move here’s another fucked up thing. Why would you stalk a (at the time) minor online?? And not even try to fucking hide it. Like lady you and your daughter have done irreparable damage to me just give it up. My ex still hasn’t stopped trying to contact to me. I want nothing to do with any of it just leave me the fuck alone,

[gummygowon]

wake up loser | jeon jungkook

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff

best friends to lovers!

warnings: none

a/n: i wrote this oneshot a long time ago and i didn’t really know much about jungkook’s personality and i wrote this for my friend so please don’t burn me if this jungkook actually doesn’t match up with the real jk’s personality. 

clink! clink! clink!

the annoying sound wouldn't stop no matter how hard you shoved the pillows into your ears. at first you thought it was something in your dream that was making that sound but as you slowly began to wake up the clinking never came to a stop.

you mumbled a curse under your breath as you got up to look out your window. usually if you heard a weird sound coming from outside your room you would be shitting yourself but you were too tired and angry to be scared. whatever demon that was outside was about to get their ass kicked back to hell.

you pushed your window curtains to the side a little too roughly and rubbed the fatigue away from your eyes. "jungkook?"

you immediately flung your window open. he was standing on your driveway with a handful of pebbles in his palm. it was a miracle he didn't shatter your window.

"oh my god finally." your best friend rolled his eyes. "you're such a pain in the ass to wake up."

"jungkook, what the fuck do you want." you grumbled. you tried your best to not wake up the whole goddamn neighborhood since it was who knows how late it was in the night or fuck, how early it was in the morning.

"just come down. i wanna show you something."

it was summer now which meant that you were back at your parents for the time being. you missed your family greatly but now you just wanna escape back into your dorm. your mom's usual nagging was getting to you and you needed a break even if it was just for a day.

but being back at your parent's house meant that you would see your childhood best friend, jeon jungkook.

you guys would do everything with each other when you were younger. hanging out at the community pool or even playing tag with the other neighborhood kids. oh how you wished to be a child again.

but, now you were an adult going to college and partying and doing other adult stuff. you kept in touch with jungkook but not as often as you wanted. the both of you guys were incredibly busy with school and work so a long phone call every weekend would have to do until now.

if jungkook had waited like four more hours you would sprung out of your bed so fast to hang out with him. but you were rudely awakened from your slumber and sleep was hard to come across in college so you had to take advantage now.

"why? it's literally so early." you whined.

"my mom made strawberry milk yesterday and i have some left over." he bribed.

"oh, say less." any anger or fatigue left your body as soon as he mentioned strawberry milk. jungkook's mom made the world's best strawberry milk and it was a shame that not everyone could try her delicious beverage.

you quickly got ready and grabbed a hoodie from your pile of clothes that were sitting on a chair. you didn't even dare to change out of your pajamas. the warmth that it provided was too good to be substituted for a wack ass pair of cold jeans.

you slipped out our window as if it wasn't your first time sneaking out. you were an adult now, your parents shouldn't really care about why you weren't home in the morning.

when you jumped down from your window, you swatted the tiny dust particles off yourself before turning to jungkook. "well, where we going captain?"

"this way, m'lady." he stuck out his arm for you to loop through, which you gladly did.

you've always this tiny crush on jungkook. it was bound to happen at some point but you never did anything about it and secretly hoped it went away. but your crush on him became even bigger during your senior prom when your trashy ex dumped you right there and then proceeded to start grinding up on one of your "friends."

jungkook was there for you throughout the whole thing. you were balling on his blazer and apologized many times and try to pull your head away to stop your runny makeup from ruining his jacket but he pulled you in closer to him and told you it was fine. he didn't really care if his prom outfit was ruined, all he cared about was you. the prom was ass anyways.

in an effort to make you feel better, he took you to in-n-out. the two of you guys ate your burgers while singing karaoke in his mom's old mini van. without jungkook, you were sure prom would've been a complete disaster. well, it definitely was but he made it better.

since then, you had your fair shares of hook ups and dates while in college. no one had met your incredibly high standards. in other words, no one was jeon jungkook but you would never admit it out loud.

you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him over your dumb feelings for him. plus, you didn't know what he was up to in his own love life. it's been awhile since the two of you actually sat down in person and properly caught up.

after walking in what seemed like fifteen minutes, you guys had arrived at this old park you guys used to hangout while growing up.

"oh man, i haven't been in here forever." you gasped, a big grin spreading across your face. memories flooded your brain.

jungkook looked over to you and couldn't help but smile too since you were so excited.

you let go of his arm and started running towards the tiny hill. "race you."

"hey! you got a head start." jungkook whined as he dashed towards you.

you actually ended up winning the race surprisingly but since jungkook was a sore loser he tackled you to the floor.

"you cheated!" he shouted as he tickled you.

"no-stop please- i did not." you argued between in laughs.

you managed to wrestle jungkook and ended up straddling him with his arms pinned down by you. he made eye contact with you and you could feel you heart do twenty somersaults.

if you guys were kids, it wouldn't be awkward but since you guys were almost twenty years old and since someone had a little crush, there definitely was tension.

you awkwardly coughed to get rid of the silence. "i win though." you fought back as you slid off him.

"yeah, sure. whatever works for you." he chuckled.

"it's not my fault ,you're so slow jk."

he put a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "how dare you say such things about me."

you rolled your eyes at his playfulness and shoved him lightly, "shut up."

the two of you guys fell into silence as you surveyed the world in front of you. a lot has changed but jungkook didn't change one bit.

"so, how's life?" you asked, breaking the peaceful silence. if nothing was going to happen, you were going to fall asleep.

"i thought you wanted me to shut up?" he fired right back.

you threw your hands up in the air, "just answer the question or i'm walking back home."

"alright, alright. i will."

for the next hour or so, the two of you caught up on everything. from friends to school life to the latest work drama. jeez, there was so much to talk about that you guys couldn't cover in your monthly phone calls. it was nice to catch up with him though. you missed him a lot. talking through screens wasn't the same as being next him.

the sun was about halfway in the sky and the clouds were painted a dusty pink. jungkook had whipped out the infamous strawberry milk, much to your delight and you guys sipped in silence with the occasional moment of bringing up old memories.

you were sipping your drink while deep in your thoughts. a surge of confidence came and it dared you to confess your true feelings to your best friend. you don't know where it came from but you weren't no pussy. you stared at the pink sky and a smile formed on you lips as you thought about the what if's with him.

you could feel jungkook's stare on you so, you turned to look at him. "what?"

he had this lovestruck look on his face. a look you've never really seen out of all the years you've known him.

now, jungkook also had a fat crush on you but was too scared to make a move. he thought he lost you when you got a boyfriend in high school but look at how that turned out. he was secretly happy that the two of you didn't work out but he would never confess that to you.

i swear there was something in the air because jungkook also had a surge of confidence that dared him to confess too. the timing was perfect. actually, everything was perfect. the sky was a pretty pink, you were happy which made him even happier.

his mind couldn't stop thinking about how cute you looked in your pajamas and messy bun. he was grateful that you could be comfortable with him and that you didn't care what you looked like in front of him. to him you were just right.

"i love you." he confessed. jungkook was practically sweating as soon as those words left his mouth. he didn't actually mean to confess like that or did he? "i mean-"

"just kiss me, you loser." you cut in.

jungkook smiled before pulling you in.

you tasted like mint toothpaste and strawberries.

[dhwty-writes]

Zutara Week Day 6: Affirm

I am really sorry for how I ended the chapter yesterday. Take this as compensation?

Be sure to check out the previous parts!

Read on AO3

Katara felt awful. She had felt awful before. Awful and heartbroken. When her mum had died or when her dad had left for the war. When she and Sokka had left the South Pole. And when she had broken up with Aang, of course.

But this? This was torture. Because Zuko and her hadn't broken up. He hadn't died or left, unsure when or if he would return. She had left him instead and all because she had caught some feelings and he had no clue. And didn't feel the same anyway.

He was always so worried about the Fire Nation and the laws and the economy, it was the only thing he was ever talking about. She hadn't even been sure if he'd noticed her.

And then he'd invited her to the garden and she'd thought, hoped, that maybe, maybe, he felt something, too. And when she had finally worked up the courage if all of that meant something- he'd said no.

So naturally, she had to leave.

She had made up a flimsy excuse about a pregnant Suki - which she was, and Katara was very glad for her and Sokka - and boarded the first ship to the South Pole to get the hell out of there. She was almost glad that Zuko hadn't noticed how feeble her pretext had been. Almost.

When she had arrived in the South Pole, she had been greeted by a very concerned Sokka and a very happy Hakoda. Yet, it had been Gran-Gran she'd ran to.

Gran-Gran with her open arms and her knowing glare who had just opened her door and told everyone to leave them alone. She had broken down on the polarbear-dog rug and cried. She had cried for hours, clinging to her grandmother for dear life.

"It hurts," she had sobbed, "it hurts so much. Gran-Gran, how do I make it stop?"

And the wise woman had just gently stroked her hair, rocking back and forth. "I know," she had whispered, "it is allowed to hurt. That way you can heal."

After two days of tears and self-pity Katara had pulled herself up. "I'm done with weeping," she had said.

And so, she was.

She went outside, relishing in the welcome feeling of being home. Oh, how she had missed it. The last time she had felt that way was when she had walked into a stuffy council room on some backwater island and found Zuko sitting there. She didn't allow herself to venture on that thought.

Instead she ventured out into the snow and ice with nothing but the clothes on her back. On day she stayed in the frozen wasteland, bending up a storm under the crushing pull of the full moon. After all that time in the Fire Nation where her powers were weak and withered, she had never felt this powerful in her life.

She returned with a fierce and wild look in her eyes and not even dared to talk back to her.

Then she calmed down.

Katara started teaching again, filling her days with the laughter of children and adults alike. She enjoyed the combat lessons as well as the healing sessions but what she loved most was that for the first time in her life she got to explore her element for fun. She raised statues and adorned houses with carvings, went penguin sledding and ice dodging and laughed until her sides ached.

And when they gathered around a fire in the night and Katara pulled children into her lap to teach them the stories of their ancestors that were written in the stars, maybe her heart ached, too. Because maybe she would have liked telling black-haired, blue-eyed children of the spirits dancing in the sky. Maybe she had even dreamed of it. But that would never come true, so Katara didn't think of it.

Instead she filled her days with laughter so she wouldn't drown in her tears.

 ~*~

 The war had ended over ten years ago and still the sight of black snow was enough to strike fear into her hear.

The small children stared in wonder but she saw the same panic that boiled in her stomach in the eyes of the men and women who still remembered. Instinct made them grab their children and run and Katara wanted to flee, too.

But instead she grabbed Sokka by the arm and ran towards the sea. "What is happening?" he asked breathlessly. "You don't think-"

"No," she answered and stood. There was no fleet of warships heading towards their shore. There was no fleet at all. Instead it was one single ship, painted in red and gold. "It's Zuko."

"Ah." Her brother straightened. "He sure took his time."

Katara whipped around and narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?" she hissed.

He raised his arms in defence. "Nothing!" he insisted and Katara didn't need Toph's abilities to know that he was lying.

She prodded her finger into his chest and growled: "We'll have words about this." before walking away to greet the Fire Lord.

The ship docked less than an hour later and lowered the bridge. Katara straightened herself, prepared for the host of nobles that usually surrounded the Fire Lord.

Instead only one figure stepped out, dressed in silk that was in no way appropriate for a South Pole autumn. "Hello, Zuko here," Zuko said. It was easy to imagine the sixteen-year-old boy who had showed up in the Western Air Temple, he looked almost the same. Even his hair fell into his face just like back then.

And it was also distressingly easy to conjure up the rage that had burned her from inside out back then. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She sounded furious and she knew that he didn't deserve that but she didn't know what else to say.

She could see how he glanced at Sokka, Hakoda and Suki beside her who stared at him with crossed arms - though Suki's threatening vibes were probably negated by the growing bump under her parka. "I, um- I missed you. So, I came to see you."

"We weren't made aware of a state visit," she countered coldly.

A hurt expression flitted over his face and Katara's stomach twisted painfully. "That's because it isn't," he said quietly. "I came here as myself. As Zuko, just Zuko, not the Fire Lord. I- I came because I missed you." He hunched his shoulders. "But if you don't want me here, I'll be on my way as soon as I can."

"Don't be silly," an old voice croaked. "Of course, she wants you here, boy."

"Gran-Gran!" Katara exclaimed concerned, "What are you doing out here? You should be resting!"

The old woman waved her aside. "I'll be fine, my child. I might not be a spring komodo-chicken anymore, but I can still decide when I can leave my house." She walked over to Zuko slowly and patted his hand. "You're always welcome here, boy. There's a room in Katara's house I'm sure she's happy to share. Right, Katara?"

"Right..." She couldn't very well say no to that, could she? She jerked her chin. "Come on then, bring your stuff."

They walked in silence over to her house. It was one of the first ones she'd ever built and therefore smaller than most. Still, there were two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom and that was more than she'd ever had while growing up. And it was her own, so that was all it needed to be.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the silence broke. "Why are you mad at me, Katara?"

That phrase was all it took to make the tension leave her body. "I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I am not."

"Then why do you act like you're mad at me?"

She winced pondering on how to answer that without giving away that she was hurting. She was hurting and maybe if she pushed him away it wouldn't hurt as much. But even as she contemplated her options, she knew that it all was bullshit. "Why are you here?" she asked instead.

"Because I missed you." She winced. "Why did you leave?"

'Because I love you,' the realisation hit her like a gut punch.

"Katara," he pleaded, his fingers wrapping around her shoulders. "Look at me, please." Slowly she let him turn her around and raise her head. He studied her face for a long time, agony spreading on his features. "Why did you leave?" he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tears burned in her eyes. How should she answer that? How could she answer that without ruining all that they had? Members of Team Avatar shouldn't date each other, she had tried it with Aang and it hadn't worked.

"Is it because of the dinner?" he asked and she had to close her eyes because that was just a bit too close to the truth. She heard him inhale sharply. "Then I'm sorry for that, Katara. I overstepped and clearly make you uncomfortable with trying something more-"

"No, Zuko, you don't understand," she whispered, "I wanted more. I wanted it to be more. And then you said-"

"Fuck."

"No, that wasn't it," she couldn't resist the joke and cracked one eye open. If the situation weren't so tragic, she would have laughed at the face Zuko pulled as if he was processing approximately twenty-five distinct emotions at the same time.

He held up one day. "Wait, wait, wait. Say that again?"

"Say what again?"

"You wanted it to be more?"

It took all her self-restraint not to wince. "Yes, Zuko. I would have liked it to be a date."

"Fuck," he said again and stumbled backwards. "Oh, shit, I fucked up."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I panicked!" he blurted. "I had meant it as a date! And then you asked and I- shit!"

Realisation dawned on her face. "Oh," she said. "Shit." He had meant it as a date? "Why didn't you say so?"

"I panicked!" he repeated and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Katara, I'm-" He looked up helplessly.

She held up one hand to shut him up. "I'm making this right," she declared.

Then, Katara bolted out of the door.

It took almost all day to do the preparations. Spirits, if only she'd known! She wasn't able to cook, though she doubted that Zuko had cooked himself that day either.

She did have time to do the decorations, however. She had spent so many hours in that garden that she had memorised every single flower in it. So that would have to do.

The sun had already set when she went back to her house, a joyful spring in her step. Zuko was still sitting pretty much where she'd left him with the only addition of Sokka and Suki to keep him company. 'And to calm his nerves,' Katara guessed.

When his eyes fell on her he smiled brightly. "You're back!"

"I am," she answered and smiled wider than she would have thought it possible. She held out one hand. "Come with me, Zuko?"

He scrambled to his feet. "Always."

Sokka gagged. "Spirits, that's disgusting."

"Nah, it's better than Katara pining," Suki added.

Katara exchanged an incredulous look with Zuko. "I ran into both Suki and you before you had sex for the first time," he reminded them.

"And I held your hand the whole voyage home when you got separated from Suki after the war. Even at night when you cried." She gave him her 'don't-mess-with-me'-glance and they thankfully shut up.

Katara took Zuko's hand and laced his fingers with hers before tugging him outside.

"Were you really pining?" he whispered against her ear.

She granted him a sweet smile. "Shut up or I'll change my mind."

He chuckled. "As you command- oh." He stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the sight of the garden she had bent up, complete with turtleducks swimming on a frozen pond and icy lampions. "Really, Katara?" he asked quietly.

She chewed on her lip and nodded. "Watch this." She closed her eyes concentrating on the lampions and a little trick she had learned some time ago. When she opened them again, they were glowing softly.

"You are amazing," he breathed and meant to lean down but she stopped him.

"Wait! You have to ask first."

He took a deep breath. Not annoyed at all. More smitten. "Katara...," hesitantly Zuko stepped closer and looked down at her with a smirk. "Is this a date?"

This time she didn't ignore the fluttering feeling in her heart. This time, she embraced it. Slowly, she reached out, gently cupping his cheek and running her thumb over the jarred edges of his scar. "It is," she said quietly, "if you want it to be."

He hummed, a warm smile spreading on his face as he leaned into her touch. "I would love it to be."

A bubbling feeling spread through her chest and belly, warm and giggly and suddenly she felt like fourteen again. "Can I?" she asked and he just nodded. Katara raised her second hand and put it on his other cheek. She rose up on her tiptoes and pulled him into a tender kiss.

Zuko didn't kiss how she'd expected him to. She thought it would be scorching and burning, consuming as a firestorm in a dry forest. Electrifying, lightning crackling in a hot humid summer night, ripping through the quiet and racing towards her, unbridled, untamed, inescapable. Inevitable. But it wasn't.

Inevitable, yes, because the moon and the sea were drawn towards each other, always pushing, always pulling. She laid herself bare before him, naked and unguarded. He could take her heart if he wanted to. And he did. But not with force, instead with gentle caresses and tentative touches and hidden smiles. She gave and gave and gave and took as well. She took hurt and desperation, loneliness and fear and it all evaporated between them. They were perfect opposites in perfect harmony.

And it ended way too soon.

"Katara-" Zuko croaked and she barely let him catch his breath before kissing him again. They had waited far too long for this. Zuko was stumbling and Katara was drowning, tumbling down an ice tunnel, lunging into the abyss. It was intoxicating, addicting and Katara didn't care. She wanted it all. She had it all.

They broke apart breathlessly and Katara rested her forehead against his. "You were wrong," she whispered.

"What?" he slurred.

"The moon is in love with the sun and round and round and round they went, always chasing each other. But not anymore. I caught you."

He tightened his embrace. "I found you," he answered.

They stood in the pale moonlight kissing and holding each other, making up for lost time, until Katara was shivering and he carried her back to her house. She led him into the bedroom and he layed her down gently, caressing her cheek and whispering sweet words into her ears.

"Wait," he said suddenly and sat up.

"What is it?" she asked, fearing for a moment that he'd changed his mind.

"I just- If we're doing this, I want to do it right," she said solemnly. "Right for you. I said that I wanted a date but- that's not all. Really, that is overly simplified."

"Then make it as complicated as it needs to be."

He took a deep breath. "When you were in the palace, I was the happiest I have been in a long time. The best part of my day was the precious hours I spent with you. I love the way you smile and the way you fight and the way you heal. I love the way you let the world be a part of your life, how you forgive and help and show mercy and kindness to everyone. I love- I just love you, Katara."

She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. "Say it again," she whispered.

"I love you."

She smiled and pulled him close to kiss him again. "I love you, too, Zuko. With all my heart."

"Will you come home with me?" he blurted.

'Home...' It was a strange word. Home had meant so many different things over the years. A backwater village at the South Pole, an air bison's saddle, a never-ending search of belonging. And then she had seen him again and suddenly her search had ended. "You are my home."

"So... is that a yes?"

Tears were streaming down her face but this time they were happy tears. "Yes," she sobbed, kissing him again. "Or course it is."

[being-multishiper-be-like]

Soooo, this is officially firts ff I'm gonna post

Sabriel, background Destiel

Hurt/comfort, hurt Sam

3k Enjoy

It was evening. Sam and Dean sat in some quite cheap restaurant and waited. Suddenly Cas appeared out of nowhere.

“Hi, Cas,” greeted him Dean.

“Hi, Dean,” said Cas and blushed.

“Hi, emh, where is Gabriel. I thought, that you'll come together.” Sam looked something between nervous and worried.

“Don't worry, he'll come in a minute, he just got into an argument with Michael, when I was leaving.” Cas looked apologeticly towards Sam but it didn't seem to work.

‘‘What's so important, that he has to argue about it, when we have a date?!” Sam stood up and slammed his fists onto the table angrily. When he realized, what he's done, he sat down and sighed.

“Apparently, you.” Cas answered.

“What?”

“Michael said, that he wants you just as his ‘fuckdoll’ and that he just pretends, that he feels something towards you.” Both brothers stared at him with anger written in their eyes. But after few seconds Sammy blinked and when he opened them again, he looked really hurt.

“What?! Yeah, I knew, Michael is an asshole but this-”

“- is the last thing he'll say 'bout you, I promise.” said Gabe as he slowly flounced towards their table.

“Gabe” Sam stood up again, this time not to shout, but to hug the archangel tightly.

“So now, when we're all finally here, I'd like to have something to eat” Dean smirked a little at Cas, as if the two of the knew something the others didn't.

“So, let's eat then” responded Gabe happily. They all sat down and ordered their food. Dean and Gabriel got burger with fries. Typically. And Cas and Sam got salad. How surprising...

“How's heaven doing now?” asked Sam with genuine concern. Mainly because of what he heard Cas saying, that Michael said about him and his lovely archangel.

“Well, it's complicated-” started Cas just to be interrupted by his older brother.

“Bullshit, it's total anarchy up there, don't suger coat it, sweetie.”

“I asked you at least million times to stop calling me like that.” Despite his words he blushed a little, he trully loved the shit of his brother.

“But, yeah, you're right. We don't have an idea, what to do.” Dean suddenly grabbed Cas' hand in silent declaration, that he'll stood by him, don't matter what. Cas shortly squeezed the hand and then smiled.

The supper continued silently for a while, only a tinkling of a cutlery could be heard.

“Are you currently working any case?” asked suddenly Cas.

“Well, it depends. We are trying to find some information about- well, it doesn't matter, so yes, but actually no.” answered Dean.

“You seriously should work on your verbalization. It's terrible.” snarked Gabriel. He loved teasing his maybe-soon-to-be-brother-in-law.

“You're just jealous, because I'm more handsome than you.” And Dean loved teasing him back.

“You? Handsome? Just maybe, because you'd rather use hand, than-”

“Guys, enough. Gabe, if you want to talk about my brother's sex life, I don't care, but please, do it when I'm not in the room! Have I made myself clear?!” Sam looked genuinely exasperated. But can you blame him? The boys were adult, they should act like ones.

“Yes, mom…” said Gabe and then giggled like a friggin five-year-old. Sam sighed.

“Than behave or l'll have to give you a spanking like to a bad kid.” Sam's face was deadly serious, but the corners of his lips were twitching upwards a little.

“Sammy, weren't you the one, who got angry at us like a minute ago, because we were talking about something, you, as my brother, don't have to know 'bout?” Dean seemed like he didn't know whether to laugh, cry, kill his brother or everything exactly in that order.

“OK, what about changing the subject?” uttered Cas into an awkward silence after a while.

“Sure. The food tastes like a mud, doesn't it?” joked Dean. The waiter unfortunately heard him, so she observed him judgingly, frowned and then let it go.

“You seriously don't have to insult everyone around you. After all those years it's rather annoying.” hissed Sam. Cas couldn't stand it anymore.

“I have an idea. We're all almost finished with our meals, so I insist we pay and go to motel before we” -he sent a significant look to both brothers- “got into some serious argument. Agreed?”

“No, it just started to be funny.” Dean threw on his don't-you-dare-steal-away-my-toys-

while-I-am-playing-with-them face.

“If this is your idea of fun, I really pity you.”

“Gabriel!”

“What? He acts like a child!”

“And you don't?!”

“Cassie, Cassie. The only way I can relate to Dean is using dictionary of a child in kindergarten. Ain't it, Dean?”

“Enough, you assholes! This was supposed to be really nice dinner, but I can't be in here with you another fucking second!” Sam spitted his words out while rising from his chair. Then he simply run away from them. They haven't had a courage or maybe a certain dose of masochism to go after him.

“I should check on him. Fuck, this is my mistake.” breathed Gabe after few minutes.

“You have to let him cool down. Trust me, I know him. Right now he'd shoot you, if you'd try to approach.” admitted sadly Dean.

“I have to do something!” barked Gabriel in response.

“Gabe, Dean is right. Let's go to the motel. He'll came back when he'll think, he's able to face you two. Because he was right, you were really acting like assholes.” proclaimed Cas with his strong, yet soothing voice. And they did as he said...

***

When Sam came back, it was long after midnight. He tried to silently sneak in, but the first thing he's seen, when he turned on the light, was his furious boyfriend.

“Where do you think you've been?! I was fucking worried about you and I couldn't find you because of the sigils! And now you try to sneak in like teen-age boy, who's just drunk his first bottle of vodka and he's afraid of what his parents are going to say! So tell me. What do you think I'm supposed to say?!”

Gabriel shouted like he's lost his mind. He desperately wanted to punch him in his face and then kiss him, like there's no tomorrow.

“Who are you to blame me?! The date was my last hope to have a 'normal' life. I was looking forward it for like two months and you and the underdeveloped man, who calls himself my brother, have to ruin everything. I love you, OK? But right now I want choke you!”

“That can be arranged…” Gabriel winked and knelt down.

“That's exactly the reason, why I'm angry! You can't be serious for a moment! Stand up, or I'll leave again.” Gabriel stood up. He looked somehow, well, different. He was frowning and he seemed to be confused.

“Sammy, what's wrong? You are never running away. Not unless is something hunting you, but this is not the case, so, what are you afraid of?”

“I'm desperately trying not to get lost in this parody of reality. But I'm afraid it's too late. I'm already lost. Can you hug me, please? Because I'm not sure, whether you are actually here, or my mind is playing tricks on me. And you are one of a very few people who can hold me together, when I think, that everything is falling apart. So don't say anything and just hug me…” Sam seemed as if he lost a last drop of his energy, after he said it. He dropped on his knees and started to tremble. Gabe immediately knelt down so he could hug the shivering nothing, that's left of his boyfriend. The archangel wrapped this arms around Sam. ‘He lost so much weight, how could I not notice it?!’ he screamed at himself in his mind.

“Sammy, I'm so sorry, I had no idea, that yo-”

“Don't speak. I got used to silence and your words aren't going to help me anyway. Because you don't mean it. You'll leave me. I know it.” Sam was devastated. He was sobbing mess. And the worst part of this tragic moment was, the he truly believed to his words.

“Do you think so little of yourself? And of me and our relationship? Does it mean nothing to you?”

“No! It means everything to me. That's why I can't lose you. But yes, I think a very little of myself. I don't deserve you. You're an archangel and I'm fucked-up piece of-” Sam would continue but Gabe slammed his lips upon his. He kissed him fiercely although he got almost no reaction from Sam. Then he drew himself back.

“You say, you can't lose me. Than why are you letting me go?…”

“I don't know what to do. I'm tired and angry and I can't control it.” After this statement Gabe lifted Sam up and carried him bridal style to the bed. Then he laid down next to him and wrapped his hands around himself. The only good thing that happened in hours whas hearing Sam's breath deepening as he had fallen asleep.

***

“Cas, he'll be OK, I know it.” stated Dean as he led his boyfriend to the motel.

“But, we should-”

“The best thing we can do right now, is to let Gabe to take care of him. And you can be sure, that the first thing I'll do when I wake up tomorrow, will be hugging him. He has chaos in himself and unfortunately I can't help him to sort it out. He has to do it himself. But I will be there for him, forever and always.” Dean's vow was pure and full of love. He ment it, every single word. Cas was amazed. He has truly chosen the most loving and caring person on the entire world.

“Right now I want to spend time with you, though.” Dean giggled a little and than he winked at Cas. He leaned in and pecked him on the lips. Cas didn't hesitate for a second and deepened the kiss. Their tongues have been rubbing against each others'. The kiss was becoming sloppier and sloppier until the passion completely burned down.

“I'm not sure if it's not too soon, to say something like this, but Cas, I love you and I'm genuinely happy for the first time in my life.” Dean's voice was solemn. And this moment seemed perfect for such a declaration.

“And I love you too.” Cas conjured one of his magical smiles, that could break stones and then he kissed Dean again. This time it wasn't quick and passionate. No, it was slow, they both knew they had time, so the kiss celebrating their first ‘I love you’ has to be just perfect. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and Dean did the same but around the waist. Their lips slowly parted, but they stood still, enjoying each others' presence.

“We should go to bed, I'm quite tired.” admitted Cas after some time. Dean hasn't answered, he just led them to a bed and tucked them under a blanket.

“Good night, sweetheart”

“Good night, love.”

***

Dean did as he said the previous day. Checking on his brother was the first thing he has done in the morning.

“Sammy, how do you feel?” Dean sat down on the bed in Sam's and Gabriel's motel room. He sat next to Sammy but not too close to make him uncomfortable. Gabriel and Cas had done the best thing, they could. Walked away.

“I should be angry at you, but I feel too tired to do so. It's pity, though. If we'd got into an argument, then we'd atone and everything would be better.” Sam was visibly exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, that Dean was sure, it wasn't there last evening.

“If you want to argue, I'd arrange it, although it'd broke my heart.”

“Was it an irony, or not?” asked Sam with a glimpse of genuine concern.

“Well, both, obviously.”

“And now seriously. What can I do for you, Sammy? I've already sacrificed my soul for you, I'd gladly do it again.”

“You're saying, that we should be serious and you're being sarcastic. Yeah, don't say anything, I know. Denial is your shield. I know you, Dean. I know what are you terrified of.” Sam wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. ‘Everything is gonna be better,’ he said to himself. ‘It has to…’

“Wasn't it supposed to be 'bout you?” laughed Dean. Although he'd rather cry.

“I think that we're two halves of one whole. If is something wrong with me, it affects you too and vice versa. But you haven't said anything about my remark about you being in denial. So perhaps it is true.”

“It isn't! No, I'm not in denial. I-” Dean was interrupted in the middle of his inhale.

“-am denying that. As would any person in denial do. Dean, seriously, you have to move on. You are stuck in the beginning. Let it out, all of it. Go, be angry, crush things. Just stop pretending, it's not real, because it won't make the things you're afraid of smaller, you just won't see it for awhile. And do you know, what will happen, if you leave them unsupervised? They will grow! You have to say it. Right here. Right now.” In the middle of his speech Sam stood up to face his brother. After that act both brothers' face changed colour. Sam flushed and Dean paled.

“Weren't you deadly tired just few minutes ago?” snarked Dean in response, because he was trying to hide, how Sam's words had affected him.

“Well, I was, but someone has to look after you, since you are not able to do it yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me, that you stopped being tired, just to make fun out my fears?”

“Do you really think I'm doing all of this, just to make a fun out of you?! I'm trying to help you, you asshole!”

“I'm sorry. You know, that you're not the one I doubt about…”

“Dean,”-Sam exhaled- “don't. Just don't.”

“So, since you are better,” Dean ignored his brother's remark, “you should spend some time with Gabriel, you two have a lot of talking to do.”

“Ugh, fine. I hate to admit it, but you are right..."

***

“Here,” Gabriel hugged Sam tightly, “I hold you and I won't let you go, 'till you learn, how to love yourself.” Sam smiled, then he leaned forward and kissed Gabe fiercely. Gabriel slightly laughed into the kiss.

“Although I find this unbelievably pleasant, it won't bribe me. I still cling to my words.”

“I know, you always do.” The archangel took a step backward and instead of a reply, he put on a serious face. It wasn't exactly pleasant for Sam, mostly because they just had a heavy make-out session like a few seconds before, but also because Gabriel was the least serious creature he knew. The room fell into a silence. The heavy, suffocating one.

“Baby steps, okay? You have to start with allowing yourself things. You made a mistake? You can allow it to yourself. Crave something? Allow it. It's the first step. Everybody has to indulge themselves sometimes. Got it?” While talking, Gabriel was looking Sam straight into the eyes and Sam felt a cold sweat run down his neck.

“Yeah, I guess. But about the mistakes- whenever I make a mistake, someone dies. It's not something to be proud of.” Sam replied resignedly.

“Sammy, how often do you think about, the people who died because of you?” Gabe asked with a sudden harsh.

“It's not like I think 'bout them constantly, it's more like they never seem to leave my head. Not really. Let me guess, it's not the answer you wanted to hear.”

“Yeah, you're right. That's exactly, what I didn't want to hear. But I can't say I'm surprised. I already know you. And here's my second question- how often do you think about the people, that are alive thanks to you, the people you saved?”

“I do think about them and I replay the memories of them but only, when I feel really, like, really bad. I do it on those days, when I'm too sick and self-pitying to even leave bed. It's when I think, I don't matter. The world doesn't need me. It needs Samuel Winchester, the man, who repeatedly saved it. Not Sam, who's more childish and broken inside, that he's willing to admit. And it's confusing, because in the end, there's just one man. Sam. Only Sam, a little boy who had to grow up too soon. Does it make any sense?” Sam looked like he just had an out-of-body-experience. He was there, he was talking, but his eyes were empty, like he was somewhere else.

“It does, actually. I'm really glad you told me.” Gabriel smiled sympathetically. Then he clapped his hands and put on a mischievous smile. “And now, since we don't have anything to hunt, I suggest we head into a bed for more pleasant activities to do. Agreed?”

“I'm sorry babe, but I'm actually kinda tired.” Sam changed his expression back to self-pitying one, even though he smiled just a moment ago.

“Let's go sleep, then. Is there anything, I can do for you?”

“Yes. I think I'd really like to sleep with my cute little spoon.”

Gabe snorted and responded, “First of all, I'm not a cute little spoon, I'm a fierce archangel. Heaven's most powerful weapon. And second of all I'm, I am, I…” Gabriel flushed. It's not usual for him to run out of words. But it was mostly because he just now at this exact moment realized how whipped Sam had him. Absolutely.

“Were you about to say something love?” Sam teased.

“Yes, let's go to bed.” Gabe's last words faded into silence. They laid on the small and crappy motel bed. To Sam it wasn't small and crappy, though. Maybe it was because Gabriel snapped his fingers and conjure a better one but he thought it was because of his love's hands running up and down his side...

[houseki-no-suffering]

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: I just- i wanna take this moment to express my deep love and adoration for Antarc and for everything they did. You’ve always been too good for us. Also Alex, ty for being amazing. And thanks to @lapishead for betareding this. Enjoy!

Antarcticite’s silent presence had fit into the domestic monotony of the community with ease.

Like an unobtrusive new piece of the machinery, they would spend their days worrying about Sensei’s health with Rutile, assisting him, or helping Alexandrite with the children. Antarc didn’t make for a good teacher, but they possessed the strained willingness of someone who doesn’t know how to be indebted to people.

In the three weeks that they spent at the dormitories, they singlehandedly inspired Bort to pursue a military career, repaired the dorms’ electrical wiring and overthrew Cinnabar’s life without exchanging more than a couple of words with them.

It wasn’t like Antarcticite was especially charismatic, quite the opposite in fact: they did not like people. However, they acted out of a unique, humble brand of fairness that made their character stand out even when they tried to stay on the sidelines. It was a necessity to be of use. It had Phos literally hanging off Antarc’s every word by the end of the first week.

Maybe it started when Euclase asked Phos to give up their room for Antarc. Phosphophyllite was the youngest kid and the only one to sleep alone in what was the only spare room, it made sense for them to give it to their new guest. But Phosphophyllite complained and whined so much that a flushed Antarc asked Euclase if they could share the room with the kid.

Or maybe it started with Phos’ exuberant enthusiasm. Cinnabar was used to it but Antarcticite was embarrassed to no end by Phos’ antics and they would try anything to keep them busy or quiet. It was how Phos bribed Antarc into becoming their new school tutor and into telling Phos an elaborate recount of their life and of their job, of how they were working with the government and the aeronautics to prevent a new war.

When Alex scoffed, mumbling that it was just anti-soviet capitalist propaganda, Cinnabar silently agreed with them, more to disagree with Antarcticite than out of an interest in politics. Maybe that was how it started, like an ideological divide. Almost overnight, there was a rift between Phos and Cinnabar where there had never been one, and Cinnabar would ride to the lighthouse alone after school while Phos followed Antarc like an excited puppy.        

There was a part of Cinnabar that still wanted to reprimand themselves for doing nothing. They should have talked with Antarc, talked with Phos, confronted Phos, told them how they were feeling. Or maybe some part of them already knew that they would lose this battle and it was just shielding Cinnabar from more hurt. The more involved they would be, the harder to let go.

Cinnabar went through those three weeks like a diver jumping off a cliff: leaping into the void, holding their breath and hoping that the water below would be safe. They watched from the sidelines, telling themselves that it was okay and hoping to release a breath once this was over. And then, three days before Antarc was leaving, Phos asked Cinnabar to go for a ride again and broke it to Cinnabar that they would be leaving too.

Cinnabar woke up.

Phos’ ghost was still dancing before their eyes. The first rays of sun were filtering a silvery light through the wood shutters and Cinnabar scowled kicking the sheets away.

“Antarc’s gonna leave next week.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m going with them.”

Mature people were supposed to process and archive a lifetime of occurrences, from the smallest of happenings to significant turning points. It should mean something that Cinnabar wasn’t able to get over just one simple thing.

The process of understanding and accepting life events had always seemed somewhat mechanical in Cinnabar’s eyes and, as much as they enjoyed being analytical, it only came naturally when their logic was applied to external issues. And their mind just happened to be an internal one.

“I’m going with them.”

The main problem wasn’t even the way Phos had looked at Cinnabar yesterday or that they had disappeared off the face of earth for years. It was the cacophony of sounds and words that had decided to resurface in Cinnabar’s mind at the mere mention of Phos. Memories were sociable things, they came in groups and they were always looking for attention. Cinnabar knew they should have repressed them deeper. Like Bort had said once: “Never leave a job undone.”

Bort probably meant that you should get to the root of a problem instead of burying it away or build yourself a castle of illusions. But Bort was probably born a functioning adult while Cinnabar’s inner child still had too much fun ruining their life to give up the position of absolute power. The fact that Cinnabar turned on the radio at high volume to ignore Phos’ voice had everything to do with it.

“I’m going with them.”

In the end, they had to run to get to work in time. They rushed down the street still fastening their coat as if they had not spent thirty minutes of their life contemplating the endless vanity of the universe. And then they rushed back inside because of course they would forget the tests.

Why couldn’t things exist just as simple, uncomplicated concepts? No time, no space, no memories or people, just intangible ideas floating peacefully in the universe’s mind scape.

Dragging themselves into the library, Cinnabar pushed open the door, a tangle of red bed hair and mismatched clothes.

“Hi,” they mumbled.

It took Alexandrite one glance to sense that something was off.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” they walked towards them, taking the papers away from Cinnabar.

“Yeah,” Cinnabar nodded, unsure what to do with their hands now that they had nothing to hold.

Alex took off their glasses as if to better look at them, their eyes soft.

“I’m not going to ask but you can talk to me, okay? I’m aware of the… things currently going on. The town’s small and Euclase likes to talk.”

“Good for ‘em.”

Alex chuckled, ruffling Cinnabar’s hair before the latter had any time to protest.

“Guess so. But talking isn’t that bad from time to time, is it?”

It was way too early for this. So early that part of Cinnabar’s anxiety must still be asleep because for a second they were tempted to actually speak their mind. They crossed their arms over their chest, rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet.

“Got nothing to say. Idiot’s back. Not my problem.”

Cinnabar regretted those words because now Alex looked like they had something to say too and Cinnabar had no idea what to do with the attention. After all, Phos had left with Chryso’s cousin, it was expected that Alex would be concerned about it. It also felt stupid to complain about a dear one being back. Most people had never had that chance, Lexi included.

“Always the realist, I see,” Lexi smiled, burying their interest, “well, it’s not like we have nothing else to do ourselves. Remember the archive?”

“No-“ Cinnabar paled.

“Oh yes! There’s a whole new section waiting for your radiant presence. I totally forgot about the 1955’s kids last time, my bad. It’s not that many. Don’t look at me like that.”

One enthusiast apology after the other, Alexandrite more or less shoved Cinnabar in the archive aisle. Cinnabar was inclined to think that Lexi was doing this on purpose as their own unobtrusive way of helping. Nothing like boring paperwork to keep an overthinker’s mind distracted.

“Thank you for your hard work. I’ll be over there, children’s section,” Alex chirped.

“Thanks.”

“You can do this, Shinsha.”

It sounded purposely generic. Then Alex put their glasses on again and disappeared down the corridor.

Cinnabar walked toward the desk with a loud groan. A few books and papers were already scattered over the wood, a sign that Alex must have noticed their mistake that morning and had been trying to fix it as best as they could. Student cards were piled up next to the ledger of what Cinnabar assumed was the 1955-1956 school year. It was as thick as an encyclopedia.

They climbed on the table, bringing one of their knees to their chest. They could either sit in silent contemplation the whole day or start working. Cinnabar’s thoughts would find a way to reach them anyway so they might as well keep their hands busy. That was what a mature person would do. Probably. Mature Cinnabar seemed like such a foreign concept.

“I’m going with them.”

Where was Phos going now? Was this still home for them? Did they have any choice in coming back? The more Cinnabar reminded themselves they should not care, the more they found themselves thinking about it. What of Antarc?

Cinnabar shut one of the drawers of the archive with more force than usual. The sound reverberated around the library, dissolving in the soft chorus of voices of the building. Cinnabar did not dare find an answer to their questions; what would there be for Cinnabar? Even if they knew, there was no point, so they kept writing down students’ names and dates, imitating Euclase’s calligraphy for the sake of consistency.

Euc had been the first to do archive work, when the school opened. They had been the one to help Sensei build the dormitories, the one to shelter the kids during the war and the one to let the orphans in when it ended.

Euclase was a mature person and they wanted Cinnabar to play family again. Was that what a mature Cinnabar looked like? It just seemed fake and sick in Cinnabar’s eyes. And yet they were confronted with the choice just a few hours later.

They were on their way home, hands sore and stained with ink from writing the whole day. It was late in the afternoon and the sky was tinted a deeper blue, a few stars had begun to light up.

Phosphophyllite had not been following them. Cinnabar refused to be so paranoid as to believe it, but there Phos was, right in front of them. They were sitting on the sidewalk along the town’s main road, the one that Cinnabar would walk at least once a day to get to work.

Phos was looking at them, they had seen Cinnabar coming. They had been waiting for Cinnabar this time and when Cinnabar was at hearing distance, but still distant enough to walk away if they wanted to, Phos stood up with ridiculous solemnity and walked towards them.

Cinnabar didn’t know why they did not run away this time because, when Phos started talking, they felt the same sense of nausea building up in their stomach.

“Hi,” Phos mumbled.

What an elaborate choice of words. Cinnabar crossed their arms on their chest, pressing their lips together.

“I- uhm, I’m sorry. About yesterday. Sorry. Didn’t meant to- well, I mean, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Phos was tormenting the hem of their sleeves. Now that they had Cinnabar’s attention, they were stubbornly avoiding their eyes. Why were the two of them even having this conversation if Phos was the first not to want it?

“So, that was one thing,” Phos let out a breathless chuckle, straightening their back as if they had just taken a weight off their shoulders. They looked like they had grown taller.

“Actually, I need to talk to you. I know you don’t want to, I wouldn’t want to talk with me either, not after everything…” the way Phos’ lips would twist in a resigned smile gave their expression a grieved feeling. It made this conversation even more unbearable.

Phos’ half-sentence hung in the air. It remained dangling between the two of them as Phos kept fidgeting with their sleeves and Cinnabar dug their hands deeper beneath their arms. They were focusing on breathing, counting the seconds between inhaling and exhaling, slowly. They felt like they were suffocating, hazy, as if they weren’t really there.

The seconds kept stretching by in groups of eight and seven with each breath. They became minutes, long like the years that lay between Cinnabar and Phos. Phos who still would not meet Cinnabar’s gaze and who wanted to be there just as much as Cinnabar did.

The thought that they should give Phos a chance crossed Cinnabar’s mind for a brief second. They should hear out Phos’ story, their excuses, they should put aside their own hurt and listen as Phos talked about how happy they had been with Antarc and why they had decided to throw it away.

Then Phos’ lips parted. Their eyes shone with a new resolution and they finally lifted them to meet Cinnabar’s. They stepped forward, coming into the light of a nearby lamppost. They had grown taller. They were taller than Cinnabar.

“Do you want to talk? With me?”

Even if it’s me?

Some memories are delicate, fragile things. When you unveil them, the beauty or the pain they carry with them comes out in soft waves, making you dizzy as you run your eyes over them. There is familiarity in those feelings, like an echo, the smell of an old attic that has remained sealed for too long and where each flake of dust reminds you of a different time.

But it’s fragile. Just as you begin to remember, those memories shatter. Familiarity dissolves as old images crash with new ones, merging together, turning to smoke, being carried away by the present, dispersed forever.

Into the cold yellow of the lamppost’s light, Phos looked old. Older than their years. They looked tired, weary. It was in the way they carried themselves, in the way their smile did not reach their eyes, in the way their cheeks would dimple and in the way Phos would hide their eyes under their fringe. Just like Cinnabar.

In that moment, Cinnabar understood what a mature person would do. A friend, a true friend, would throw away their own feelings and ask Phos what was wrong. Because something was, something was terribly wrong.

“Please?” Phos added. It was like a mumbled stab to Cinnabar’s resolution.

They were aware of how much Phosphophyllite had meant to them and of how much they still wanted Phos to mean. Cinnabar would not hope for anything, but this was still Phos, they were in front of them, hidden beneath layers of memories and experiences that they had made without Cinnabar.

But it had been Phos’ choice. Cinnabar had let them go once, because they dared not wish for anything, and they would do it again because wishing was still scary.

They thought about their resentment, about departing coaches and about Antarcticite. They thought that Phos would be going home to Antarc eventually and that they would take better care of Phos than Cinnabar. They thought about Bort’s words.

You owe them nothing.

“No,” Cinnabar pushed the syllable past their lips. It was like remembering how to talk and they regretted it immediately after.

“Alright,” Phos said. The look that crossed their face sat uncomfortably in Cinnabar’s chest. Then Phos stepped aside to let Cinnabar pass, moving out of their way as if they would disappear if they only could.

Cinnabar walked past them as if through a haze, clinging to reasons and an anger they could already feel dissolving. The echo of Phos’ voice came to them as if through water.

“Goodnight,” it said.

[mysteli]

Perfect Intentions (Jake X MC)

A/N: Hey! So this is another fic for the Choices September Challenge! Day 25: Best Friends. This fic was really fun to write because this is a really funny idea of mine. An idea of Diego second guessing Jake and having that conversation with him about Logan. I hope you like this and let me know what you think! 💗

Warning: T

Tagging the @choices-september-challenge

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn​ @cocomaxley@hopefulmoonobject@alesana45@jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake@regrettingnathan@dobie2112@princesstopgun@mechaspirit@skyila@mind-reader1 @xo-endlessmayhem-xo@sakaily @justboredtrash@regina-and-happiness@flyawayblue56@annekebbphotography@endlessly-searching-for-you@reginasayeed@zigortega4life@christopher-powell @eileendannie @alesana45@diamondoasis @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗

Masterlist

Summary: Diego is hesitant to accept Jake as a part of Logan’s life. Maybe a heart to heart will help him figure him out.

Diego eyes the crowd suspiciously, his mind to so many different places at once. He can’t quite seem to let his thoughts function properly, as his doubts and worries always seem to get ahead of him. It’s like a race boiling in his mind and the obnoxious chants of his doubts are haunting and taunting every damn second of the day. He can’t quite figure out why he feels like this. It’s nothing too major and he doesn’t know why he’s worrying so much.

Logan is a big girl. Hell, she’s an adult. She can do as she pleases. She’s not his responsibility. Never has been. Just his best friend and that is more than enough. They’ve been inseparable for years on end and it almost feels like forever since they’ve known each other. Diego can’t remember a day that he hasn’t not spent with her. She’s everything to him and she’s helped him crawl out of the darkest places and get through the tough times.

A weak smile crosses his lips, as he reminisces on some of the best memories of them. Logan was always a wild child and she was definitely at her worst through high school. Everything kinda went a little south for her and she was still trying to help Diego as he got through his endless bullying. She defended him non stop and she always stuck by his side. Diego sometimes tried to tell her that he was okay and that she didn’t need to defend him all the time. But like you’d expect, she didn’t listen and refused to let him suffer on his own. 

That’s actually how they met.

Diego was getting verbally abused by a kid a year older than him sometime during elementary school. It happened in the line for lunch in the cafeteria and Logan was stood behind them. She watched with horror and refused to let Diego be picked on because of someone else’s insecurities. Turns out, the older kid was judging Diego on being shorter. Later, bullying became more intense when he came out as gay. But Logan never left him, defending him like she did on the first day they met. She actually through food in the bully’s face and that’s the day she also got into her first fight.

But before she got in trouble, she came up to whispered in his ear with a proud smile on her face.

“It was worth it.” 

That’s it. That’s all it took for Diego to realise that a friendship had truly started to blossom. And it grew. And it grew. And it grew. And now... they can’t live without each other. They tell each other everything. There are no secrets between them and that can be a little annoying at times when Logan talks endlessly about her recent lover... Jake McKenzie.

Trust Diego when he says that he doesn’t hate Jake. He’s definitely rough around the edges but he can be kinda sorta cool. 

...

Oh who the fuck is Diego kidding? Jake’s a jerk. A condescending asshole who goes around giving people nicknames and making stupid sarcastic comments just to make himself feel better. He might be cute in a weird way but he’s just not good enough for Logan. She deserves someone so much better. Who isn’t an absolute idiot and acts like he’s the only who can get us outta here. Someone who isn’t overly proud and obsessed with drinking and putting people down. 

He gives out some of the weirdest nicknames as well. Short stuff and Pop Culture Petey is two of the ones Jake likes to use a lot. Everyone else got such cool ones and he’s stuck with... whatever those are. It’s ridiculous. 

Hell... maybe Diego is being ridiculous.

He has no right to be making any impulsive decisions for Logan. She can date whoever she likes. She’s mature enough. But what the hell makes her think Jake is good enough? Is he like... good at... 

No! Don’t even dare about that! 

Diego slaps himself on the head. Hard. Mentally kicking himself for making such a disgusting comment in his own head. He looks on from one of the sofas in the room, watching like a hawk to the corner of the room. It’s almost as if he’s not blinking and he’s trying to not miss a single moment, as Logan and Jake stand entangled in each other’s arms by the bar. Well, not so much entangled but Diego loves to exaggerate to make himself feel better. 

Jake has his arms resting innocently on Logan’s hips, firmly stroking the satin fabric of the off-white dress that perfectly hug her curves. His cerulean eyes drift down from time to time, eager to remind himself of her stunning appearance. There’s always a hidden desire in his eyes. Diego can’t tell if that’s horny or sweet. 

Then there’s Logan, whose holding a glass of bubbling champagne in one hand while her other is pressed firmly against Jake’s chest, smoothing out his tie and occasionally in his sandy hair, which Jake has unusually decided to gel into a beater style. Who knows if that was for Logan or not? Their faces are scarily close and it makes Diego feel slightly nauseous inside. He’s not sure why he’s so protective of Logan. Once again, she’s a grown woman, perfectly capable of controlling her own life. 

This probably isn’t even any of his business.

Eager to escape his stress, Diego takes a long sip out his glass of wine, his dark eyes scanning the crimson liquid and downing it rather quickly. He can’t take this anymore. He looks a little odd just lying on a sofa on his own, creepily eyeing the rest of the guests but he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s just jealous that Logan has somebody and Diego has... Well he’s working on it.

Perhaps that is why he cares. 

Diego takes one second to blink and when he reopens his eyes, in one swift motion, Jake is gone. Maybe he kept his eyes closed for too long without realising it but who the hell can move that fast and take the time to say goodbye to someone? Well, it’s weird. Now, Logan only remains stood at the bar, her glass of champagne starting to reduce in size. Suddenly, Michelle walks over to her and starts brightly bringing up a cheerful conversation. 

That causes Diego to finally tear his eyes away from the bar and focus on the seat of the sofa where he rests, exhaustion starts to weaken his strength and energy. He honestly just wants this party to end now. He takes a moment to just close his eyes and take a deep breath. He can’t help it when he feels like meditating in the middle of a party. He’s alone anyway.

At least, that’s what he thinks until a deep voice makes him jump with fright.

“Ha.” The figure says lowly and even the quietness of their tone and the shortness of their speech causes Diego to almost go inside out, as he flinches in his seat - his eyes opening widely with surprise.

Just the raspy and condescending addition to the tone reveals exactly who the interrupter is. Damnit, Jake. He’s everywhere. 

“What did you say?” Diego asked, shaking slightly from the unexpected shock.

Jake tries to suppress his laughter and moves his gaze to the floor. “I said hello, obviously.” He tries to lie but the natural sarcasm in his tone gives it all away and Diego narrows his eyes in irritation. 

“You little liar.” Diego remarks, his nose twitching with annoyance. 

Jake scoffs. “Little? You should really look at yourself before you call me little.” 

“Maybe you should get some better heels before you go around saying you’re not little.” 

An awkward silence goes by and it makes Diego cringe, as he glances down at he floor, in complete hope that Jake has just gone away and gave up. But Diego’s wish is ruined when Jake finally pipes up. 

“Got you a drink.” He states strangely, his voice a lot more idle than before. 

Diego reluctantly glances up, his eyes relaxing a little with annoyance when he notices the amused smirk crossing Jake’s lips. He’s holding two glasses of whiskey, completed with two blocks of ice. Which is weirdly... Diego’s favourite. 

“How thoughtful of you.” Diego jokes in a sarcastic tone of his own, an unreadable smirk on his face and he rolls his eyes as he turns away from Jake.

Jake stifles a disbelieving laugh, poking Diego with the drink. “Lo told me it was your favourite. Now take it before I drink it.” He urges and he keeps tapping Diego with the glass. Gently but it’s still annoying. 

“Fine but only so you’ll stop doing that.” Diego accepts the drink, roughly taking it from Jake and taking a long sip out of it, in desperate hope that his stress will melt away. Just Jake’s unwanted presence adds tension.

Another moment of silence passes and Jake seems like he’s expecting something. Instead, he relents and pretends like he heard something polite. “You’re welcome, kid.” He huffs in annoyance and Diego glances back barely.

“Oh... thanks. I guess.” 

Another awkward moment of silence. 

Then another.

And another.

Jake taps Diego on the shoulder and smirks. “May I?” He asks, gesturing to the seat beside Diego.

Truth is, Diego doesn’t wanna say yes. He just wants to be left alone so he can drown in his own sorrows but... this is Logan’s boyfriend. His best friend’s boyfriend. Guess he should at least attempt to get to know him. Doubt they can get through one conversation without Jake saying something stupid though.

“Sure.” Diego agrees hesitantly and Jake’s smirk widens as he takes the seat beside Diego, collapsing back and sinking into the leather material. He appears to be comfortable.

Jake takes a long sip of his whiskey and releases a heavy sigh. “...Do you hate me, Pop?” He questions, raising an eyebrow in a curious manor.

Diego just rolls his eyes, almost unsurprised. “I don’t hate you. And stop calling me ‘Pop’. It’s annoying.” He responds blandly and Jake tries his best to suppress a chuckle. 

“Oh really? I see your glares and hear your snappy comebacks every time I talk.” Jake counters, folding his arms and running a hand through his sandy hair. “If you wanna talk to me about Logan... go ahead. I ain’t too worried.” 

Hearing that, Diego definitely takes it the wrong way. “I think that’s why I’m so doubtful about you, Jake. You’re careless. You’re not worried. About anything. I bet you don’t even see a future with Logan and she’s just a damn puppet to you.” 

Immediately, Jake is taken aback by Diego’s impulsive words and that’s when he realises he may have went a little too far. He may have just disrespected Jake in way no one ever should and that’s in his heart. The words hit the pilot like darts but he doesn’t show it in his exterior. Instead, his expression falls and everything goes blank. No emotion lurks in his face and he just stares at Diego blankly, his hands balling into fists. Taking a deep breath, Jake relaxes after a moment of tensing up, his muscles flinching with fear. His eyes snap up and he presses his lips together. 

Diego suddenly starts to feel guilty, knowing this may have been too far of a judgment to make. “Jake I...” 

“Don’t say that.” Jake cuts Diego off, his tone so much colder and harsher than before. “Don’t ever say that.” He pauses, heavy breaths escaping him after each second and he avoids Diego’s loose gaze. “Don’t ever say that I don’t care about her because I do. More than anything. She’s the only thing keeping me alive. Keeping us all alive. Don’t even dare try to assume that I think of her as a puppet. I don’t control her. She makes her own damn decisions and if you think I’m not sticking around... think again. Because I ain’t going anywhere. Not ever.” Once he finishes speaking, Jake’s eyes fall to stare at his knees, as he realises how passionate he just got with his words.

In some way, he regrets it. Diego is shocked to his very core, surprised that Jake actually had something like that in him. He’s a maniac usually. A cocky jerk with a smile that could kill the wrong people. But he cares. He actually cares about Logan. That’s really all that matters. 

Diego is momentarily lost for words, unsure how to react to such a speech. “...Wow. So you do care about her.” 

Jake tilts his head, a lost look in his eyes but there’s a certainty lurking deep within. “Call me crazy but... I love her.” 

Diego is completely tainted with shock and awe and he can’t seem to contain the excitement that clearly erupts in his next words. 

“Really? You love her?”

Jake chuckles heavily. “You don’t gotta act so surprised.” He jokes, his voice dropping to a low mutter. His nerves are definitely creeping up on him. 

“Sorry but... you don’t seem like that type of guy.” Diego admits, feeling guilty that he misjudged Jake so much. 

“Heh. Well I didn’t think I was until now.” Jake mumbles, as he takes another sip out of his whiskey, fixing his eyes on the amber liquid and watching intently as the ice swirls around in the glass. 

Diego takes a moment to contemplate, releasing a silence into the air. He smiles to himself as he realises that Logan may be in good hands after all. He’s glad that fact dawned on him at the right moment. 

“...You’re alright, Jake.” Diego confesses, grinning at the pilot approvingly. It’s almost like a ‘I’m finally gonna accept that you’re fucking my best friend’ type of look. 

Jake smirks at that, patting Diego on the back. “You’re pretty okay too, Bear.” 

Diego leans back, stunned at the new nickname. “Bear?” He reacts, his eyes widening into ovals. 

“What? You didn’t like ‘Pop Culture Petey’ or ‘Short Stuff’ so I thought of Bear.” Jake explains himself for some reason, trying to suppress a laugh.

“As in Bear Grylls?” Diego asks, really hoping that’s not he meant. 

“Kind of a mixture between Bear Grylls and a regular bear. The castaway look gave me too many ideas.” Jake jokes, before slowly rising from his seat, as he downs the rest of his whiskey. 

Diego fiddles with his hair, slightly self-conscious. “It’s not that hairy!” He exclaims, a little louder than intended.

Jake just smirks, though it seems more genuine than before. “Hey... Diego. Was a pretty good talk we had there.” He admits and it’s a odd look on him. Normality.

Diego folds his arms and nods along. “You know... it actually was. You take care of Lo. She’s special.” 

“More than any of us will ever know.”

And that’s the last thing Jake says before his eyes snap up from he hears the sound of familiar footsteps approaching them. The same light footsteps that are always unmistakable. In the white satin dress that Jake picked out for her, Logan approaches them, immediately shooting a small wave at Diego but planting a soft kiss on Jake’s lips. 

“Hey, you.” She whispers, resting her forehead against his sweetly.

Jake smirks at that. “Hey, Princess.” 

Diego suddenly feels the need to chime in. “Oh no! PDA. PDA! My eyes!” He says, mimicking a scene where he exaggeratedly puts his hands over his eyes and pretends he’s going blind. He used to do it to Logan every day in high school.

Logan just giggles while widening her arms around Jake’s neck. “Sorry, Diego. Don’t worry, we’re going now anyway.” She admits, shooting a teasing look at Jake, which is a lot more seductive than Diego needed to notice.

Hunger starts to build in Jake’s eyes and he snakes his arms around Logan’s petite waist. “You said you had a surprise for me.”  

“Oh you bet I do. You might love it a little too much.”

Diego almost chokes on his drink. “...I almost died just now. I’m this close to spitting my whiskey at you.” 

[hazelandglasz]

(Art AUs) Date AU with Sterek (and I'm very proud I'm limiting myself to one prompt here :P)

Date AU: I’m on a blind date and the guy/gal starts ranting about how “art isn’t a viable form of work, and how it’s not needed in schools” and you just walked up and schooled them while serving us our food order about how important art is in society, and left your number on my plate written in mustard.

You know what, I have a ton of prompts waiting for me but this is just too funny to pass up so here goes (with Derek as the poor blind date) - I changed it a little, I hope you don’t mind ;)

On AO3

The moment Whatshisface rolls his eyes in disgust is the only moment of the evening when Derek can understand why Erica thought they would be a good match.

Yes, eurgh indeed. Derek isn’t sure they are “eurghing” for the same thing, though.

The man is exuding “elitist” and “spoiled” from every pore, and though he could be seen as conventionally attractive, his personnality is quickly turning him into the ugliest of gargoyles in Derek’s eyes.

“Can you believe this?”

With extreme difficulty, if “this” refers to this date. “Hm?”

“This,” Snobby McSnotty says, pointing at the highlighted dish on the menu. “They want us to pay extra for a pizza under the pretext of supporting the neighborhood’s school Arts program.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Derek says, not only because he knows it will bring this sham of a date to a shorter shelf life, but also because, well, he does believe Arts in school are an important part of the social fabric and the way children grow into adults.

Exhibit A, Mr Douche in front of him who probably stayed in a corner for all of his art classes as a child.

“You’re playing cute,” Dumbass says with a smirk. “But we both know that Arts in schools are about as useful as a degree on a pretty girl, am I right?”

“Most definitely not.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl–”

“Derek.”

“Yes, right. Derek,” the man says, leaning forward as if trying to pull Derek into a confidential mood–as if–, “Art can be fun, sure, but it’s not, like, essential.”

“Ahem.”

Derek looks up and the first smile of the evening blossoms on his face at the sight of his waiter.

For starters, Mr. White Crisp Shirt pushes every button on Derek’s crush control panel.

For seconds, he is glaring daggers at Mr. Douchy Pants and that is almost enough to make him Derek’s best friend.

“We haven’t decided yet.” Jackass says to the waiter without even looking at him.

The waiter, whose name can’t possibly be what is written on his nametag–what kind of name is Stiles anyway–squints even harder.

“It will be just a moment, thank you,” Derek adds, trying to distance himself from his date’s behavior.

This softens Stiles’ demeanor a little, but he still scoffs at Jerkface’s back as he leaves them.

“Some manners won’t kill you, you know,” Derek says, his eyes firmly on the menu.

“I don’t have to, it’s his job.”

“Oh my God.”

“What? Like you’re such a posterchild for manners?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Jerkface snorts. “Right. So under all those muscles and glares, you’re telling me that there is a softie with a heart of gold, who frames children’s drawings and is polite to everybody?”

“I don’t see how one is incompatible with the other.” Derek tries really hard to control his temper. “And as a matter of fact, yes, I frame my nephews’ art to hang around my house.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine. “Not that you’ll get to see it or anything.”

Behind him, Derek swears he hears someone snorting and attempting to hide it under a cough. In front of him, Jerkface Supreme merely smirks. “Playing hard to get, uh?”

“Nope, predicting the end of the evening.”

“See, that’s why Arts are not useful to kids–nay, why it’s a bad influence.”

“Oh wow.”

“By giving a disproportionate place to Art, you developed a sense of superiority over other people.”

“Because that is not condescending at all.”

Derek agrees with that sentence, almost said it himself, but their waiter is back and is glaring at Douche McJerky.

“Who asked for your opinion?”

“No one, but that hasn’t stopped you, now, has it,” Stiles says, putting down a bottle of water and leaning over the table. “Now, whether you want to hear it or not, get ready for some knowledge being dropped into the void between your ears.”

“How dare–”

“Tut-tut,” Stiles cuts him, a finger pressed to his lips.

Derek leans back in his chair, glass of wine in hand as he pulls the mini plate of appetizers toward himself. This gonna be good.

“First of all, asshole, art is important in school because it gives children an outlet, a way of getting rid of their anxiety, their surplus of emotions instead of resorting to violence.”

“B–”

“Second of all, art is important later in education because it allows for creativity, world building, all things useful in all aspects of life. It develops the brain in ways other curriculum cannot, and studies show that students engaged in arts perform better. Wouldn’t you like that, to perform better?”

Behind Stiles’ hand–and Derek does notice that it is a very nice hand indeed–DoucheCanoe glares and frowns, and turns a very unattractive shade of puce.

“Third of all, having regular Art classes help the children to develop their motor skills and their visual-spatial skills. It supports a critical view of the world, and helps them being prepared to tackle different points of view.”

“That’s rubbish,” Annoyance in Human Form says, pushing Stiles away before he can get to point number four, “and I demand to see your manager.”

Stiles pauses, and his lips slowly but surely stretch into a smirk.

A devilish smirk, the kind that sends delicious shivers down Derek’s spine.

“I am the manager.”

Oh this is priceless.

“What-but–you’re a kid.”

Stiles beams at him. “Why, thank you, I moisturize daily, and I have good genes. Now scram.”

Derek’s date opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, before snatching his jacket to storm out.

Stiles brushes his hands like he got rid of some particularly nasty vermin before turning to Derek, his smile turning apologetic and, dare he say it, shy.

“I am sorry I ruined your date, but it didn’t look like a very promising one.”

“You saved my evening,” Derek says with a crooked smile. “Did you have more fine points in favor of the arts?”

“I sure do.”

“Would you care to share them with me?”

Stiles’ cheeks turn a blotchy pink, from the high of his cheekbones to his neck. Derek kind of wants to follow it under Stiles’ crisp white shirt.

He blames the wine.

(It’s not the wine.)

“I–I’d love to.” Stiles waves at someone, another waiter who silently brings a large plate of pasta, covered in a red sauce that smells divine. “I’m Stiles, manager of this restaurant.”

Derek smiles. “I’m Derek, art teacher.”

Stiles’ laughter lasts for a while, enough to give Derek a need to see how this sound would feel against his skin.

(He finds out two weeks later.)

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Mama Winchester...

A/n: John doesn't die in this one, he is alive, and hunting, and as you could guess from the title dating you, [Y/N] Singer. 

 "Mary." John hissed as you closed the door to the bunker, your long time lover looking over the banister of the stairs leading into the open area storing the map table. 

Looking at him, you could see how his knuckles turned white, his face losing its color as he looked hard into the space. 

"John." You heard a woman's voice, a softness to it as drifted to your ears, a tone of love to it. 

"Dad, see the hunt went well." You could hear the awkwardness in Sam's voice as you pressed yourself against the door, not daring to move into sight, knowing what was waiting below, for John Winchester was not returning from a hunt.... 

"Ummmm yeah, had to work undercover at a elite party, figured I would dress the part. 6 vamps, bitches to kill." He replied as he loosened the tie. 

"Well please come downstairs, I would love to catch up with you." The woman responded, causing John to loosen his hold on the banister, and turn slightly towards the stairs, catching sight of you against the door, your own face matching his in paleness. And then he started down the stairs, leaving you alone by the door. 

"Oh how I have missed you." The female said, you could hear her walking against the floor. 

"Yeah, I've missed you too." 

 "Our boys tell me you have become quite the hunter. Even said you escaped death a few times, and helped save the world." 

"Yeah, Mary how are you..." 

 "That doesn't matter, what is important is that we can be a family again, and the boys can finally have a mother. Now what do you say we all go get some pie at the diner..." 

"NO!" John shouted, your body sliding softly down the door, he didn't want Mary to see you, you were a secret, a mystery, and as far as Mary knew, not the girlfriend of John Winchester. 

"I mean I'm tired, and I know there is a nice home made pie in the fridge that the boys and I picked up at a farmers market," (more like you made it for John and the boys), "why not we go to the kitchen and get it, while the boys go get my bag, I think I left it by the door." John instructed before the sound of footsteps began and faded quickly. 

The silence quickly filled however by the sound of the two giants bounding up the stairs, halting upon reaching the top. 

"Mom...." Dean started, however he stopped at the sound of your sob. 

"I hate school. I don't wanna go back." A 16 year old Dean snapped at you as you prepared a pie for the evening in the motel. He slammed himself into the chair, as he did. 

"Well we both know that your father won't accept that, so why don't you tell me what's wrong." You turned from the crust and sat across from the young adult. 

"We all have to present a paper on the most influential person in our lives tomorrow, to the parents. What are we 5?" 

"Well I am sure they have their reasoning behind it. Besides this should be easy for you, just tell a funny story about your dad and..." 

"Yeah, let me tell the whole school about how me and my dad kill the supernatural, sure it will go over great." 

"Well no, but you could talk about..." 

"I'm not doing it." 

"Fine, you don't have to, but you still have to go, unless you want your father to never let you have the car again." You replied before getting up, “now would you like to help me with the pie?" 

 That morning you got both teens up, lunches already packed for them, along with backpacks. Breakfast sat out on the table. 

"So your father said he would be home by the end of the week, and then I think him, Bobby and Rufus are gonna work a case." You dictated the message you were left to the two boys. 

"So we get to stay with Uncle Bobby?" 

 "Yes Sammy, and what have I said about talking with a mouth full of food?" 

"Sorry mom." Sam sighed. 

"I don't get why you call her that." Dean snapped. 

"Call her what?" Sam innocently asked 

"Mom. She isn't your mother, she died remember." 

"Yeah I remember, and I also know [Y/N] has basically raised us since before her and Dad were together, so to me she is mom." 

"That is only cause you don't remember what Mom was really like, I do! And she isn't it." He snapped before looking at you harshly, "and she never will be." 

"Dean." You hissed back, trying to conceal the tears from your eyes and the lump in your throat as he took his still full plate of food and dumped it out. 

"Sam I'll wait for you in the car." And with that the door slammed, lunch still on the counter. 

 After crying for most of the morning, you got dressed up and headed to the school gymnasium, where many couples filled the room, talking amongst themselves about how their child wrote their paper about them. You took a seat in the third row, as a middle aged woman turned her head towards you, "I'm sorry, you must be lost, this is a parent only event, gym has been cancelled." 

"No I am in the right spot, my boyfriend's son just transferred here, unfortunately he couldn't get off of work to be here, but I came to show l support to his son." 

 "Oh." The disgust clear on her face as she turned away from you. 

 And then one by one each student filed out and read their paper; parents and students beaming as they did. 

"And finally Dean Winchester." The teacher announced as he slowly walked out on stage, his eyes scanning the crowd, hoping as always for his father, yet they only met yours, you could see the disappointment yet acceptance in his face. 

And as he got to the front of the stage, he inhaled and exhaled.... 

 "Hey, I'm Dean, most of you don't know me, and most of you won't have the time to know me. I am sure too a shit ton of you are all expecting me to talk about my father, so here you go. My Dad is a shitty dad, I mean yeah he loves my brother and I but he is still shitty at being a dad. See when We were little my brother and I lost our mother, and my father became obsessed with finding her killer, and stopped really taking care of us. He has missed all the important shit, birthdays, holidays, school functions, he'll he missed my little brother's performance as tree #4 when he was in pre-school. So yeah I love him, but this isn't going to be about him, it is going to be about my mom." 

 You smiled at the thought of Dean talking about Mary, she would have been... 

"Now I know you all heard me say moments ago that she died, and I was four, so how has she had an impact on my life. See family is more then blood and when I was 7 my father told my brother and I that we were going to see a lot more of a woman who voluntarily watched us for years, she was the daughter of our dad's best friend. She had never missed a single thing, a single big moment in our lives. She was the one who clapped the loudest when my brother said his one line in the play as tree #4, she is the one who every year makes me a pecan pie for my birthday, and a vanilla cake for my brothers, she makes sure we are fed, doing our work, and just happy kids. She talked my father into taking her car, just so that I could drive my brother and I to school everyday in his Impala. She is even sitting here right now, listening to me rant about her, after this morning I told her she would never be as good as my mother, which is true. She is better." 

 And then he jumped off the stage, and towards your seat at the end of the row, you rose as he opened his arms and engulfed your crying self in his arms. And from that day on, he always called you Mom. 

"Mom." He whispered as you raised your red rimmed eyes towards him, "Is it really..." 

"Yeah." Sam responded as each boy sat on either side of you. 

 "So I guess I should go pack my stuff then." You whispered, both Sam and Dean pulling you back down as you tried to stand. 

"No. Dad would be a fool to choose her over you, besides she seems like a real bitch anyway." 

"Dean, this is all you have ever wanted though, your family is back together." 

"It was together before she showed up. You are our family." 

"Family is more then just blood." Sam quoted, as you smiled slightly. 

However the moment was ruined when John screamed up the stairs, "Honey, can you come here a second?" 

"Honey?" Mary questioned as both Sam and Dean helped you up, and then walked to the banister with you, Mary's eyes widening in shock as Dean said, "Mary, meet the woman Sammy and I consider our mother." 

"So she is gone." You whispered to John, as you held an ice pack to his newly forming black eye. 

"Yeah, for now." He chuckled. 

"Guess she really didn't like the fact that you moved on." 

"Yeah. But I am glad I did, and that the boys love you enough to consider you better then Mary." 

"They are good kids John. You did well raising..." 

"We both know you are the only one I can thank for raising my boys." John whispered , his hands cradling your hips as you smiled, "I guess now though the surprise is ruined." 

"What surprise?" 

"Well the plan was to come home and the boys were going to decorate the world table, with pie and roses, an old boom box was going to play the Floyd 8-track, and I was going to give ya this, even though it is a few decades too late." He reached in the right pocket of the jacket and removed a small black box, "and then I was gonna ask if you would still be interested in marrying this old bastard. And I was hoping you would say..."

"Yes." You interrupted as you leaned forward and kissed him, it was long and gentle, and rudely interrupted. 

"Gross, stop making out in my kitchen." Dean joked as you both pulled apart, a smile on your face. 

You couldn't have been happier.

[gracevastory]

Characters

Grace Eva Carter

‘Her big Bambi eyes looked at the world, as if she lived six lives before. She straightened her white collar even after drinking all dad’s bourbon secretly and biting another cigarette, which she tried simply because she’s never tried it before. She did everything gracefully from the meetings at the palaces to remedial work at the school garden. That was Gracie Carter: young mischievous child, the proud princess, wounded fawn soul. She was loved by everyone, even if they could not admit it. She was different for all of them, but nobody known what she’s hide behind this cold smile and white collar.’

James Thompson

‘He was clean, honest, true. He was just a boy who played guitar and repaired car from inaction, shamelessly smoking, exciting the minds of girls who followed him with enchanted views. James wasn’t a classical pretty boy, he wasn’t those favorite-school-sportsman-guy. He wasn’t a bum, he wasn’t afraid of hard work, you could always count on this boy. What kind of madness - whether books or songs, which told him about it, he was full of courage and passingly fought when at stake was the honor and dignity. He spoke in adult way about children's stories. He was the kind of guy who will sacrifice himself for the friend. He was the Peter Pan of the city: a children's spontaneity and ironic wisdom merged in his young body, forming a noble boy from the suburbs which is still believes that the good must conquer evil, the weak must be protected, and love is stronger than any obstacle’

Charles Brooks

‘It was a young man, born in a good family of the lawyer and the titled lady daughter. Since childhood, his life was a regular series of math classes, horseback riding lessons and the noble-gentlemen school visits - he had no chance of raise someone other than a decent boy, possessor of fine aristocratic manners. Obedience made him a son you can be proud of; as a brother and their father, Charlie was prepared for the fate of kingdom servant with all the attendant duties. He was one of those who did not break the rules for nothing and did not indulge whims, if it could tarnish his name. Adults ruined his child's nature, which craved adventure and adrenaline. He thought about the future every minute. He lived his future so much, to forget why he needs it. Looking at Grace, he recalled. He always wanted to be worthy this girl.’

Chelsea Brown

‘Who was Chelsea nobody knew. Girl-freak, crazy classmate with burnt crimson hair, dressed like a bum from the nineties, most of the time she was silent, reacting only to insults. Whoever this girl was, she didn’t get anyone close, never did the first step. She was so scared of idea being simple, standard, cliché; she did everything to avoid people, even when it wasn’t what she really wanted. She was surrounded by those who insulted her, who behaved dishonestly, unfairly, someone who gave her that stupid nickname "fleasy" simply because she brought a sick kitten to school. She didn’t want to be like them but she didn’t knew what to do. It was her way of survival and protection - an incredible aggression, when someone tried to open up her thin material. But in all this movement you could see the grace, which is not available to some true ladies. She was a sick kitten, Chelsea Brown, and no one knew how to help her. She was a beauty, hidden behind the rough clothes. Her eyes were shining, but no one was looking at them. Nobody knew her.’

Zac Sanders

‘His honey eyes shined so brightly you won’t ever overlook this wonderful hunk, even if you do your best. He will find you anyway in the crowd and captivate with his charm, leaving no chance to forget about himself for a long time. It’s like he had beating fountain of youth and beauty inside, and Zack knew how to use it for its intended purpose; for his amorous adventures composed legends, he had the time, effort and ingenuity for everyone. He loved the attention and the girls, but it wasn’t about meanness. Zack was an honest scoundrel, and before he get, he didn’t disdain to give. His passions were not serious and long-lasting; but every lady who has been at least once in the arms of this villain, remained happy and grateful. This was the essence of him - he was a true romantic.’

Emma Morel

‘This little girl kept a greater force inside of her soul than it might seem. At sixteen, Emma was alone and independent - not by choice, but by life circumstances. Nevertheless, it didn’t make her better adapted to the reality which sometimes was very cruel to her. She was the girl who still displays the date in the fields and fills tests with colorful pens. The child at heart, Emma believed that humans can’t be evil by nature, and if they are, they need help. Her help. She always wanted to take care of someone or something, even if she won’t get thanks in the end. She was naive, stubbornly didn’t want to see the dark side of anything, this was her weakness and advantage. Her great warm heart did not protect her from the bloody loneliness, and the pursuit of a righteous life repelled people. It was crazy reserve of love inside of her, but no one thought that even a small proportion of it deserved falling in the dense forest of doubts and prejudices, which were actually… a fear.’

Ethan Kits

‘Such guys as Ethan Kits, can be included in the history of the world frauds. Thousand times teachers could call him an incompetent bummer, but everyone knew that this boy had very… kind of special talent. He was able to twist somebody around his finger. So easy, quickly and accurately, you couldn’t have time to think at all. He was a clever, and what is most important in this skill - charming. Needless to say, Ethan was a dreamboat, the girls went crazy over him.  And he was crazy about the feeling of danger and broke the rules for fun, because it gave him a true pleasure. His reputation was buried under the thousands remarks that he took off classmates clothes again, beating them in poker. He loved money and always had them, despite his old shabby converses and dirty backpack. No, he did not like the feeling of wealth and power, he liked the feeling of testing himself for strength. Such as Kits, they called "honest thief", he always used his skills to help his friends. He broke off, ran for help, couldn’t remain indifferent, and any bad company couldn’t change that. He had a dirty conscience, but a pure heart.’

Kim Fisher

‘Kim was a girl who wanted to find herself all the time while she tied high heels buckle and continued to imitate curly hair by burning them with the bleach. She looked at those who were popular, who enjoyed the attention, seemed cooler and did everything to be with them in a same row. She did not understand what is she. She didn’t understand, she doesn’t need any of these victims. She doesn’t need such a vulgar makeup or loud laugh or losing her virginity before the others to feel worthy. She was just a lost little girl, who was looking for attention, which wasn’t given by her parents. She was looking for it in everything, but found only emptiness and disappointment. She was considered as anything - a slut, thoughtless, abnormal; only those who have been with her since the beginning, since the iron braces times, knew how much pain hided Kimberly Fisher.’

Martie Abrams

‘Martie was a boy, a wonk, which cool guys were ashamed to talk. Number of offensive nicknames that were attributed to him, neared to a huge number, and he didn’t dare to protest. Either he was afraid, and because he felt nonsense of any protest. When he ceased to be hated, he ceased to be seen at all. Why? He didn’t do anything for it, blazing feelings to the girl, who looked down on him and get round. Martie, being a loner, was insanely unhappy. But the saddest thing - he didn’t even try to change anything. He didn’t feel the strength to destroy the wall to get out of his comfort zone. Was it justified? Perhaps. Unlike all those "cool guys", he never was what he isn’t. He’s been himself trying to cope with the pain that waited for him at every step. Outcast, geek, nerd, dork. The boy, who wore a sweater that was knitted by his mom for Christmas. He tried to feel his significance and once decided that music could help him.’

Elizabeth 'Liz' Device

‘Elizabeth was a wonderful girl. She had energy for a several military divisions, and the power of her voice amazed even cynics. Self-confident, "proud black woman," as she called herself, Liz realized all her flaws much deeper than she could show it to others. She was still painful to hear insults like "fatty" and felt her insignificance in comparison with the girls in pink dresses, which ran on a date every night. She never showed those feelings. No one even imagined she had such problems. Despite her impulsiveness and emotionality, she’s been doing everything to believe that everything is ok – what could be a better solution? No one wanted to argue with her, which was both useful and sad at the same time. She could let herself tears only with the door closed: for all her friends, Liz was a real sun, which did not cease to shine even in the gloomy days and hit her Beyonce-manners. It was for all of Liz, a girl with a perpetual supply of power and good mood. Nobody even knew how much she wanted to wear that pink dress.’

Olivia McKenzie

‘You've probably seen such girl on the cover of prom albums, with the crown, snow-white smile and perfect blond hair - a typical school queen, a typical girl who was loved by everyone, no exceptions. What distinguishes Olivia - goodness of heart and a lack of vulgarity.  She would never have gone to the meanness to achieve goals, never betrayed and lied to get more points, cause she was brought up so – parents, who gave all their warmth, provided her a favorable future. It wasn’t necessary for her to fight for anything and that was her weakness. Olivia was beautiful, decent, quiet and modest; she didn’t say too much, didn’t want to attract the attention and still had it more than any ‘cool girl’. It seemed like she was shy of her own beauty, voice or talent. She did not allow herself to be wrong, till life itself hasn’t given her such opportunity. There were no visible defects in her that prompted doubts in others, who were constantly looking for them. The trick is that they actually didn’t exist. Was it a privilege? You never know.’

Ian Lim

‘In fact, we’re all lucky to know Ian. It was incredibly hard to meet someone amazing in high school, and he was truly amazing lad. Raised in a traditional family with a whole pack of children, he always kept something most of us unknowingly lost - good, warm heart. Unlike many of the guys, he always remembered that before you get into the door, you must put the ladies first, and the importance of giving each of them his hand, when we left the bus. Each one - even 25 times. Having him as a boyfriend must be the greatest gif, but he didn’t think so. Ien was a little bit insecure and shy, and the attempt to get rid of it ended catastrophically. He still resented racist remarks toward him and secretly worried about it.  The only thing  that makes him feel as free as a bird is the dancing. He danced divinely, we loved to watch him on the floor and secretly hope that he’d pull out some of us and whirl in the air. With him all the complex movements obtained without any effort, because he gave his energy to everyone who took his hand once. He was very kind, honest, clean and nice asian gentleman. I believe we’re truly lucky to know him. ’

Cleo Edwards

‘Cleo was one of those school girls who you probably wouldn't notice in empty room. She talked quietly, moved slow and avoid any contact with the outside world of ruthless teenagers, where she was just a freak and a ghost of little girl who kept her mouth shut 99% of the time. The world she lived in was extremely cruel to Cleo, but she never concealed anger in return and looked it in the eyes with childish delight and fear of being superfluous at the feast, where she still was an uninvited one. Maybe this was a real reason of hiding a bunch of talents she had - from sports to singing, from dancing to being an excellent friend, daughter and pupil. She distorted her voice, been panically afraid to join the ranks of cheerleading and admitted herself that she is a little bit different in her preferences and tastes. The realization that being different is normal and even cool was the hardest decision in Cleo's life before she entered the vocal club’.

Chip 'Chipa' Wilkinson

‘Chipa was the shiniest boy in a school where everything faded year by year. Short, a little plump - he looked like an eccentric in any company, but had such a bright and loud charisma that always gave him a lot of friends, even among those cool guys from basketball team. Making joke of himself, he became a school meme with those funny nickname 'Cookie' he was called since childhood. He allowed everybody to do that with him. Somehow still he was hurt while nobody was watching; he never dreamed of having friends from bascketball team. Well, everything he ever wanted was to become a basketball player himself. Everybody told he was too short, too fat, too ugly - so Chipa decided to be the coolest of the ugliest, shortest, fattest. He found his own way of healing - and that was the greatest power of that shiny boy'.

[yuriplisetskysglove]

YOI Child AU ! First OS ~

Ok seriously, you guys deserve to know how the Child AU happened. So, @rilya-dewilder and myself were kinda angry (understatement) with all the hate in the Otayuri tag lately (aaannnd we both ship Otayuri like hell. Seriously. That ship will be the death of me and I love it more than my life. Moving on ~) so we got an idea to troll em. Annnnd thus, this OS was born. But it ended up being too good of an OS to actually let antis read it (ok no seriously, I don’t know if it’s actually good since I’ve only had one person read it, and although I’d never doubt Riri’s tastes in fanfcition, I’m worried about the quality of my own work lmao) Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy reading it, sorry if there are grammar or spelling mistakes (and feel free to tell me if you spot any !) !! And while tumblr isn’t really a fanfiction platform (well... isn’t supposed to be lmao) I’d be really glad if you could provide me with some constructive criticism to help me improve >W< OS under the cut !

A/N: Steven is Mystery Man’s name (I’ve seen people calling him that so I just kinda went with it lol)

Such a nice and sunny winter afternoon rarely came in St Petersburg. What was even more rare was that both Viktor and Yuuri had managed to get a day off.

The latter was peacefully taking a nap on one of the couches, Makkachin laying at his feet. He had been pushing himself too hard lately, given that plenty of old ladies in town needed help with their grumpy cats and other ill puppies. Moreover, he had been taking in wandering pets that their owners had lost or abandonned, and currently was dedicating himself to finding them new homes. That’s why Viktor didn’t dare waking him up, choosing instead to enjoy some time with the children. Ever since Ekaterina and Dmitri had been made part of the family, Viktor’s daily life had become both a mess and an everlasting party, full of the ‘L words’; namely, ‘Love', and ‘Life'. If it was hard for him to manage his job as an assistant coach, it was even harder to deal with Yakov’s frequent angry rantings about the drama queen team he was training that season. And Viktor being their second coach did nothing to ease him. The living legend of Russia chuckled, suddenly remembering Yuri’s face upon learning he was to choreograph his free skate.

‘Why are you laughing, Daddy ?’ Ekaterina asked when she heard him.

They were watching Anastasia, a movie they all loved. Dmitri often would joke that the male lead had been named after him; while Ekaterina would tell him to shut it and watch the movie. They were eight and eleven, respectively, and thankfully none of them had begun their rebellious phase, although Dmitri had taken a bit of a sharp tongue from Mila.

‘Just wondering whether Guang Hong is mad at Yuri for getting gold again or not.’

‘He wouldn’t’, Dmitri objected. ‘They're friends. Also, Guang Hong is a good sport, unlike some people…’

‘Are you implying that Uncle Yura isn’t a good sport ?!’

They exchanged a very serious look. And then, Dmitri snorted, and started laughing uncontrollably. His loud laugh woke Yuuri up.

‘Dmitri…? Oh, I thought you were screaming because of something…’

‘Don't mind him, Papa’, quickly said Ekaterina. ‘He's just being dumb and rude towards Uncle Yura.’

She went near the couch, kissed her father, and then went back to watching her movie. Yuuri yawned, then shot a look at his phone.

‘Ah, speak of the devil. I got a text from Yurio.’

‘What's he saying ?’ Dmitri asked eagerly.

‘His plane has just landed ! He’s exhausted, though, so I don’t know if we should invite him for dinner…?’

‘Of course we should !’ the young girl said, tugging at Yuuri’s t-shirt. ‘I bet he missed your katsudon ! Also, it’s been a while since we’ve last seen him.’

‘It’s barely been a week.’

‘That's too long !’

Smiling, Viktor ruffled his daughter’s platinum blonde hair. She pouted, muttering something along the lines of ‘stop treating me like a baby !’.

‘She's right, though. A week might be nothing for old geezers like you but…’

‘What did you just call us ?!’ Viktor screamed before throwing himself at his husband. ‘Yuuri, did you hear that ?! He called us, old geezers. Old geezers ! We’re barely in our mid-late-something-thirties, Yuuri ! Are we really that old ?! And who taught him that, anyway ?!’

‘I'm guessing it’d be Yurio’, the ex-skater sighed.

‘Old geezers !’

‘At least, it’s better than… What was it, last time ?’

‘Out-of-date dinosaurs. Something like that. Yuuri am I old ? … Am I getting even more white hair ?! Is it getting thinner ?!’

‘Daddy, your hair is silver’, Ekaterina muttered.

She was more than used to her father being all dramatic about getting older. She, for one, couldn’t wait until she was old enough to compete in the senior ice-skating category. While Dmitri had given up on the sport, being more fond of reading or learning how to play the guitar, she loved ice-skating and was aiming to win at least six World Cups, to beat Viktor’s record, even though she wouldn’t compete in the same category.

‘Ah, I got another text.’

‘Are you not going to pay attention to me, Yuuri ?’

‘I'm paying attention to you every night, Vitya.’

‘... Smooth.’

The children exchanged a puzzled look. The adults were so very weird sometimes… All they knew was that they were doing ‘nasty adult stuff’. And they honestly didn’t want to know what that was.

‘He says that he’s gonna go home first to get rid of his stuff and hug every single cat he owns. And then he’ll come. Says he missed you two as well !’

‘How sweet of him. A few years back, he’d have gone with ‘who needs some dumb katsudon anyway. Still coming though, ain’t gonna let you waste your money over some rubbish.’’

Ekaterina’s eyes widened. Her Papa was the best cook in the entire world, she was sure of it.

‘Would Uncle Yura really say that ?’

‘Haven't you seen the photos ? He used to be such a drama queen - and, according to Dad, a tsundere.’

‘Dmitri, how do you even know what a tsundere is ?’ Yuuri sighed.

‘Went on a website called ‘tumblr'. There’s a fan page - well, over ten thousands, really - for the ‘Ice-Skating Prodigy Family’. Which apparently is made of the three of you. Ekaterina isn’t there, though.’

‘That’s because I’m still a junior competitor !’

‘Dmitri, don’t go on tumblr ever again, please.’

‘Why ? I mean, the fan page is pretty cool. There’s a lot of pictures of y’all. Like that one time you two skated together at the 2016 GPF Exhibition Gala. Pretty sure you wouldn’t fit in your costumes anymore !’

‘Dmitri, that was unnecessarily mean, and offensive, and rude.’

The boy rolled his eyes, and both men couldn’t help but do the same. He was taking a lot after Yuri. Feeling like getting in an argument would ruin the mood, Viktor paused the movie and turned to both the children, and his husband.

‘He'll want to eat katsudon and pirozhki, knowing him. Maybe we should make him some.’

‘Daddy, please don’t put a single toe in the kitchen’, Ekaterina begged. ‘Last time, when we tried to bake a cake for Uncle Otabek’s birthday, you managed to turn it green. Green, Daddy.’

‘That was -’

‘Definitely not an accident’, Dmitri smirked. ‘It's when you actually cook something edible that it is.’

‘Hey ! I’m not that bad, and -’

‘Also, both Yurio and Otabek got sick for two whole days after that. If I remember well, Yurio tried to kick you in the face with his skates when he got better.’

This shut Viktor down. He pouted, slowly went back to sitting on the couch, and tightly hugged Makkachin while pretending to cry.

‘Do you hear that Makkachin. This family hates me. This family hates me, Makkachin. What have I ever done to deserve that.

‘Vitya, I swear to… Ugh. Nevermind. We’re going to make that katsudon and those pirozhki.’

‘Yuuri is so cruel to me Makkachin. He hates me.’

The black-haired man rolled his eyes again, then went into the kitchen without his husband noticing his smirk. I’ll hug him later.

The two children listened carefully to Yuuri’s instructions, and even though there were some… flour battles when making the pirozhki, everything went rather smoothly. They had barely been done cleaning the kitchen that they heard the bell ringing, and Viktor went to get the door. He had stopped sulking, at least it seemed he did, because when he saw Yuri, he immediately shot him his heart-shaped smile and gave him a tight hug.

‘Viktor, stop, I’m suffocating and besides this is embarrassing, also -’

‘Uncle Yura !’

Ekaterina ran to hug the blonde, mercilessly pushing her father out of the way before she crashed onto the young man’s torso, crushing his bones in an even tighter hug.

‘Ekaterina, I can’t fucking breathe’, he muttered. His skinny built had never been much for bone-crushing hugs, especially the Katsuki-Nikiforov daughter’s.

‘No swearing, Yurio !’ Yuuri claimed before hugging him as well.

‘Yeah, yeah. Beka said he’d be coming later, he wanted to finish washing his bike before that. Is that okay ?’

They went inside, and Yuri had a bit of a hard time dealing with an over-excited Makkachin - the dog really did like him, and even though Yuri was definitely more of a cat person, he actually had nothing against him and even played with him a little.

‘Where's Dmitri ?’ he asked after Viktor had managed to calm Makkachin down.

As soon as he asked, the brown-haired boy came dashing from the corridor.

‘Papa !’

He threw himself onto the blonde’s back, and the latter, unused to having unexpected weight being thrown at him, fell down on his knees as his son started tickling him.

‘Dmitri - fuck, Dmitri stop it I - I said, stop it, ugh, stop, my sides hurt !’

The boy obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and offered his father his brightest smile.

‘Where's Dad ?’

‘He'll be late. How’re you, lil’ monster ?’

‘Hey. I’m more of a gremlin, really. And I’m great ! Uncle Vitya lent me a few cool books, you should totally read ‘em Papa.’

‘Uh, tell that to Beka. Y’know I’m not that much of a book person.’

‘Liar, I saw Romeo and Juliet on your bedside table just last week.’

‘When have you become such a ninja ?’

‘Oi ! Dmitri, don’t keep Uncle Yura all for yourself, that’s unfair !’

The two children started bickering, and all three adults exchanged a knowing look. They had always been like this.

‘So, Uncle Yura, what does Beijing look like ?’

‘I sent your dads a few pics already, y’know. It’s pretty cool, I guess, just a bit… crowded. But Guang Hong and Leo took us to some restaurant and even though I still can’t use fu… frea… um… chopsticks, we had some good time.’

‘And then ?’

‘And then what ?’

‘Dad said he wanted to take you on his bike and drive around the city. Said it’d be romantic.’

Yuri almost instantly went red. Despite him being twenty-six already, he still was embarrassed by Otabek’s not-so-well-hidden idea of romance, and his face showed it quite well. Viktor and Yuuri smirked at the ice kitty of Russia, who, fortunately, didn’t see them. Otherwise, he’d probably have punched them both.

Just as he was mumbling something like ‘Otabek you’re such a dumbass why did I even marry you’, the bell rang again, and this time, Dmitri went to open the door. As soon as he recognized his father’s black coat, he hugged him tight, and Otabek smiled gently before stroking his head. He closed the door behind him, then went to meet the little committee.

‘Sorry for being late. I really wanted to get this done.’

‘No problem, Otabek’, Yuuri smiled. ‘Actually, Yurio’s been here for just a few minutes, you know.’

They started chatting, mostly evaluating the chances of Yuri winning this season’s GPF - even though he had won gold for both qualifying events, he was to compete against some new skaters, who were inexperienced indeed, but extremely talented. Besides, Yuri had already proven that experience in the Senior bracket didn’t actually matter as long as the skaters worked hard and took full advantage of their talents - which had granted him a gold medal for his Senior Debut.

‘Hey, Dmitri, given that both your dads made it to the GPF this year, who will you be rooting for ?’ Ekaterina asked.

‘Dunno. Both, I guess ? At least if I’m in both fanclubs, I’m guaranteed to be satisfied.’

He smiled at his parents, and they chuckled, smiled, and Otabek fist-bumped him.

‘I hope Guang Hong and Leo make it, too.’

‘Yurio, is JJ really going to be singing for the opening event ?’

‘Uh… I didn’t ask him and I really hope he’s not ‘cause I seriously won’t have the time and fucking patience to deal with him…’

‘Come on, you two are friends now. And that dress he wore for your wedding was fabulous.’ Viktor winked at the children, who didn’t know of that story. After all, Ekaterina had been part of the family for eight years only, while Dmitri hadn’t spent more than five years with his foster family.

‘I still have the pictures Phichit took ! They must be in some photo album, I’ll show you later’, Yuuri smiled.

‘Mr. Katsuki, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘You know, Otabek, you can call us Yuuri and Viktor. I mean, we’ve been Mr. Katsuki and Mr. Nikiforov for years now. I know, I know, you think it’s disrespectful but, really… Nevermind. Why is it a bad idea ?’

Otabek shook his head.

‘Mr. Giacometti is featured in a few of them.’

Silence fell upon the room, and Ekaterina broke it first.

‘As in, Christophe Giacometti ? Daddy’s best friend ? Uncle Chris ?’

‘Himself', Yuri groaned. ‘Why did he even have to come… He spent the entire afternoon getting drunk off his ass with Emil and Michele… Not to mention Georgi giving Minami some makeup advice… And Mila and Sara flirting… Ugh… Seriously, the only guy who stayed chill until the end was Seung-Gil.’

‘Leo went wild on the dancefloor, and both Yuris had a dance-off with him’, Viktor smirked.’

‘Leo did ? I thought he was cooler than that…’

‘What's that s’posed to mean, Dmitri ?!’

‘But Uncle Chris is so sweet !’ Ekaterina said. ‘Last time, he brought us Swiss chocolate for the Easter holidays !’

‘Yeah well now he’s calmed down, especially with Steven tempering him. But seriously… I’ve seen things at the GPF Gala that I’d rather not remember.’

‘Like what, Papa ?’

‘I said I didn’t wanna remember that.’

When the clock hit nine in the evening, they suddenly realized they had completely forgotten about the katsudon and pirozhki, and both Yuris went extremely pale, fearing for their beloved dishes’ lives. Turns out they actually weren’t half bad at all, and they ended up staying up quite a while talking about different things - although Yuri fell asleep halfway, his head laying on Otabek’s shoulder while the latter was starting to get tired as well. After all, he also had had an exhausting trip from Beijing to St Petersburg, and he moreover had to wash his bike and prevent their four cats from running away.

Seeing how tired both of them were, and having a hard time dealing with Dmitri and Ekaterina’s over-cheerfulness, Viktor and Yuuri let the Altin-Plisetsky couple sleep in a spare room. When they were done making sure that everything was comfortable enough for them, they went back to the living room, and found their sweet daughter, fast asleep on the couch.

‘Awww, Yuuri, an angel has dozed off on our couch. Should we wake her up ?’

‘No, let her be… Let’s just bring her a cover and that cat plushie Yurio gave her, she loves it.’

‘That reminds me… Where has Dmitri gone ?’

They went back in the kitchen, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Viktor quickly checked in Yuri and Otabek’s room, but he wasn’t there either. They kept searching for a few minutes, until they heard someone sneezing, only to find a wide-awake Dmitri on the balcony.

‘You're going to catch a cold, Dmitri’, Yuuri said as he gently took his hand to lead him back inside.

But the boy didn’t move an inch, and kept looking at the scenery that spread before his magnificent blue eyes. The ever-so-cheerful St Petersburg was drowned in its own silence, beautiful and intimidating. They could see some lights coming out of other houses, where other people lived other lives. Both adults stared at the boy.

‘Is it bad that I’m different from everyone in the family ?’ he finally said in a quiet, shy voice.

‘Are you ?’ Yuuri asked. ‘Different, I mean.’

The boy seemed to regret his words at first, and it looked like he wasn’t going to try and answer Yuuri’s question. Instead, he went back inside to grab Otabek’s giant coat, put it on like some kind of oversized costume, and sat down on one of the balcony chairs. His gaze fell upon the peaceful city again, as he started talking in a voice that didn’t quite sound like his.

‘Ice-skating isn’t my thing. Sure, it can be cool. Sometimes. Mila said that I would grow to like it. But it’s not the same ‘like' as you two or Ekaterina or my parents’ ‘like'. It’s not even a hobby.’

‘Does that make you feel… Apart from us ?’ Viktor muttered.

‘Kinda. I mean, I won’t force myself to like it just because the people I love do. But I don’t like being left out either. Papa and Dad spend so much time abroad because of it. And yeah, I know they come back as often as possible ‘cause they wanna see me, and all of us really, but… It’s not the same…’

‘If this is what worries you, Dmitri, know that they love you. Deeply’, Viktor smiled.

‘It's not. I know they do. I guess I just missed them quite a bit and I really want to spend more time with them. I know what it’s gonna be. One of them will get gold at the GPF, and then they’ll go for the Europeans, the Four Continents and the Worlds, and then they’ll come back, only to go away again…’

‘Geez, aren’t you too small to worry about these ?’

All three turned around, and met a pair of tired, green eyes. Yuri was leaning against the door, staring at his son.

‘Papa ! I… I thought you were asleep…!’

‘I was. But Beka snores like a freaking grizzly. Shouldn’t have given him any booze.’

He sat down, his torso and bare arms inside the living room while his legs laid on the balcony.

‘I’m sorry’, he said. ‘I'm sorry we don’t get to spend as much time with you as we’d all like.’

‘... I didn’t really want you to apologize, y’know ? It’s not really your fault if you like skating that much.’

‘This one is our last season.’

Yuuri couldn’t help but let out a faint exclamation, but he was quick to cover his mouth, afraid he might wake Ekaterina up. Viktor simply frowned, and then sighed.

‘I knew there had to be a reason for you to be this invested this year.’

‘We’re not gonna stay competitive forever. Besides, we’ve been talking a lot about you, lil’ monster. Viktor and the piglet aren’t always gonna be taking care of you when it’s our job.’

‘You can’t ! You… That’s your passion ! You’ve loved it since you were three !’ Dmitri yelled. ‘Don't give up just because I’m an attention whore and -’

‘Language, kid. And trust me, if you were an attention whore, I’d have punched you long ago so don’t go around saying that.’

‘Then, Yurio, what… What are you going to do ?’ Yuuri asked.

‘Dunno. I’ve been asked to work as a model but to be honest, it’d be a pain in the ass. Beka thinks he’s gonna start in the music industry, though.’

‘Are Uncle Yura and Uncle Otabek retiring…?’ asked Ekaterina’s soft voice from the couch.

She was looking at them with bright grey eyes, her hair falling before her face as she slowly stood up and went to sit next to Yuri.

‘Yeah. We are.’

‘We'll never get to see you skate again ?’

‘Not during a competition.’

‘But… You’ll keep loving it, right ? Like Papa and Daddy do ?’

‘Course we will.’

He patted her head, and yawned. She looked like she was about to cry, but she didn’t and simply went to hug Yuuri.

‘Yuri', Viktor said. ‘If none of you win gold this year, or beat your records, I’m keeping Dmitri here and you’re not taking him back ever again.’

‘What ?!’ both Yuri and Dmitri screamed.

‘That's so fucked up, old man ! Who d’you think you are ?! Also are you serious ?! I knew you were stupid but this is some JJ-level bullshit, have you even heard what you -’

‘Yura ? Why are you and Mr. Nikiforov arguing… Again...?’

Otabek had just entered the room, still sleepy.

‘Beka ! Tell the old man that he can’t keep our son all to himself even if none of us win gold !’

‘... What ?’

‘That’s his way of encouraging you’, Yuuri sighed. ‘Well, as long as none of you ask him to marry you if you win gold…’

‘Not happening, the guy’s way too old for me, you can keep him.’

‘Yuri, that was rude !’

‘But I don’t wanna keep living with Grandpa and Gramps, though.’

‘Why would you call my Papa and Daddy ‘Grandpa and Gramps’ ?!’

‘Well, remember that website I talked about earlier ? Tumblr ? People say that Papa is Viktor and Yuuri’s son. So, technically, they’re my grandparents.’

‘... Does that mean Uncle Yura is… Big Brother Yura ?’

‘That also means Dmitri is your nephew’, Otabek said bluntly.

‘Which is fucked up. Also, I’m not their son for fuck’s sake ! Could they stop with this bullshit for even a fucking minute ?!’

‘Yurio, I’ve been trying not to pay attention to it but please don’t swear that much in front of the children’, Yuuri begged.

‘Yeah, Papa, listen to Grandpa Yuuri !’

‘Wait, I get to be Gramps ?! But… But I wanted to be Grandpa !’

‘Dude, you have your priorities set straight.’

‘I'm pretty sure he’s not.’

Silence followed Otabek’s declaration as he stared extremely seriously at everyone in the room. Yuri ended up facepalming, stood up and pulled his ear.

‘Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my bad-puns-free-Beka.’

‘I'm Drunk Beka.’

‘Fuck.’

Then, Otabek collapsed in his husband’s arms, who winced before putting him down on the ground.

‘Wow, now that’s a side of Dad I didn’t know’, Dmitri smirked before taking a picture.

‘Don't even try blackmailing him, kid.’

‘Aww, Yuuri, our son is so protective of his boyfriend !’

‘Viktor, shut your fucking mouth ! He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my husband. And. I. Am. Not. Your. Son.’

Viktor was going to reply, when Ekaterina sneezed. Everyone agreed to go back inside. They hadn’t even realized how cold it was. They spent another few hours talking and playing some board games while Otabek was still asleep on the fluffy carpet; Ekaterina and Dmitri then went with Yuuri to take all covers and pillows off the beds and out of the closets, and gathered them all on the floor. Everyone fell asleep together, Yuri hugging Dmitri and Ekaterina being comfy between her two fathers.

Needless to say, the following week, they were all tied up to their beds with a nasty cold, and Yakov came running to scold every single one of them, even the two children who knew that the man was much, much kinder than he’d ever let people think.

AAAnnnnnd done !!! I hope you liked it, and especially Dmitri and Ekaterina >W< Sorry it ended up way angstier than expected - I do that, sometimes. Truth is, I love writing angst so... Beware of your feels 8D Anyway

[baskingintheinsanity]

Coming Home In Your Arms

A/n: No matter how hard I try to make a drabble serious…I always end up injecting unneeded humor. Why self, why are you like this?? Anyway, this is not beta’d or edited at all. So there are probably TYPOS and things I’m going to fix later, so I’m very sorry! But I had teased you guys enough and I really wanted to get this up for you lovely shippers! Enjoy the super-powered sexy times.

She didn’t know it was like this. She didn’t realize talking to a person could be like coming home, like stepping back into a role you forgot you had. She thought she had found who she was on Earth and she was totally comfortable with that.

But the first time Mon-El talked to her about his parents taking him to other planets, beautiful far away stars, she felt something shift. She realized that he was the only person in the world that really got it. Of course, Clark was Kryptonian so he was even more like her than Mon-El was, but….Clark didn’t remember home. Clark hadn’t had it all ripped away from him. Mon-El knew exactly what that was like. Maybe even more so-he was an adult when his world was destroyed, while she was a child.

And when he talked to her about his home, about the couple of times he had visited hers, it felt like she was simultaneously unlocking a new part of herself and remembering who she used to be, back on Kyrpton. The latter part of her found comfort and warmth in discussing other planets, their planets, like it was completely and blissfully normal. But it was different with him than when she was a kid on Kyrpton. With him, she got sassier. She spoke up more. She wasn’t too shy to tell him when he was being an idiot. Because around him, she felt…free. Natural. Like she didn’t have to second guess what she said, keep a secret. She could talk about home. She could slap his arm HARD without fear of breaking him. She wasn’t awkward and stuttering when he did something she didn’t like. She was strong.

Maybe it was because that’s how he obviously saw her-fearless- or maybe it was because that’s who she really is, underneath all the facades she puts on in order for Earth to accept her. Of course she had family, real family, that knew her secret. But they didn’t understand it; they couldn’t feel the weight of it like she could.

Of course, it wasn’t just that they were from neighboring planets that persuaded her to walk to his door that night. No, he didn’t earn points just for being an alien. It helped, but the real reason she felt free around him was because he was the one person that expected nothing of her. And everything. He didn’t expect her to GIVE anything. She didn’t have to be Supergirl and save the day for him to like her. She didn’t have to be a good sister or responsible daughter for him to be interested. She didn’t even have to be a good friend for him to look at her the way he does. (Actually she wasn’t always the best friend to him, but that’s beside the point.)  

He asked for nothing form her, just that she be his partner and help him save people. He actually confessed his feelings tonight without having any hope that she would feel the same. He was simply being honest, like she asked him to be. And boy, did she ask a lot of him.

Not only did he ask nothing of her, but he believed everything of her. He probably thought she was capable of anything. And with her powers, she likely was. But something gave her the feeling that even if she had no powers, if it was a red sun, he would still think her capable of holding the world on her shoulders. She almost couldn’t believe it. For one, he had listened to her and opened up like she asked. Secondly….comets. Come on, no girl would ever get over that. The look on his face….he was so vulnerable and genuine. She rarely gets to see his eyes that shade. Like a storm, swirling in on itself, blue skies invaded by worried grey cumulonimbus. He looked…afraid. More afraid than when she first met him and his whole word had suddenly disappeared. That look shook her to her core. She had just sat there, staring at him mutely. She supposes it’s not his fault that he assumed she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. She didn’t give much indication if she did or not. She was just too…stunned. She had tried dating before. When she was an awkward preteen, she was  too ignorant of Earth’s culture to be seen as anything but weird. When she was a teenager, she was so afraid of her own powers that she couldn’t control them. The couple of dates she decided to give a go ended up in disaster. Like a poor, innocent human boy injured and bruised disaster. And as she became an adult….she focused on her career, on what she was supposed to be doing with her life and the gift of her powers.

There was Winn. Sweet, clueless, sensitive Winn. He could hack into a government facility-and has several times-but couldn’t tell if a woman was interested or not. He admitted his feelings and her immediate rejection lost her a best friend for weeks.

Then there was James. She was struck by cupid the moment she saw him. Or she thought she was. She pined for months, but when her chance came to actually have him….the sparks seemed to fade. Something didn’t feel quite right when they tried. The kiss was good, but…she just didn’t know if she was actually ready for a relationship. She knew she wanted his friendship, for sure, but…she suddenly wasn’t sure about anything more than that. It almost felt like girlfriend wasn’t supposed to be her role in his life. She realized after the fact that what she felt for James was probably akin to puppy-love. Her first serious feelings for someone at all as an adult. Of course she didn’t know where to put them. There had been a couple moments of questioning herself about some of the ladies in her life, but that was a completely different story….

But he hadn’t let her answer him. He assumed she didn’t like-like him before she could say anything. And that was frankly unfair. She….did feel something. She was just so scared and…she had never felt quite this MUCH before. It was overwhelming.

And that, ladies and gents, is how Kara Danvers ended up sneaking into the DEO after hours like a rebellious teen and knocking on Mon-El’s door. How cliché.

She waited impatiently as she heard the shuffle of feet before the door opened, revealing a tired and disheveled Mon-El. He had taken off the long-sleeve he had been wearing at her apartment and was now clad in a wife-beater-that she assumed he had on under his shirt-and dark blue boxers. His hair was messy and sticking up a little bit at the back. His expression registered sleepy as he rubbed his eyes and blinked, registering it was her.

Ok, so maybe she stewed and paced in her apartment for a couple hours before she came over here. At 1 am in the morning. Oh, bad idea, Kara. Why do you have such brilliant ideas? She berated herself even as her eyes ran over him.  His biceps were tugging at the armholes of his wifebeater distractingly, a clear indication he needed the next size up. She guessed he HAD been training more without her recently. His shoulders were wider too. And his bleary eyes pierced into her, his mussed up hair definitely not adorable.

“Kara?” his voice sounded unsure, enough of a shock to make her remember that he was speaking to her and expected her to answer, “What are you doing here? I thought-“

“You-“ she stepped into his room and his space, poking him in the chest with one accusing finger, “You…you didn’t let me answer! You just said your piece and assumed that the way the world seems in Mon-El’s head is the way it must be. Isn’t that right?”

Well, that wasn’t what she had planned to say, but she always was good with righteous tell-offs. It was her comfort zone.

To say the boy was non-plussed would be an understatement. Now Kara being mad at him certainly wasn’t a new feeling. But as far as he could tell, he had done nothing to make her this mad. Not recently.

“I….hold on,” he shook his head, “I’m confused. Why are you yelling at me again? Because I cut you off earlier…I don’t remember…”

“Of course you don’t!” she huffed, deciding to go with the angry thing; any other emotion scared her too much, “I’m yelling because you just SPOKE for me! You assumed I didn’t care about you the way you care about me! And that’s another thing-comets?? Who says things like that? That is not fair. Uh-uh.”

He didn’t know if he could frown any harder, he might be accidentally stealing her Crinkle ™, “So….you wanted to tell me for yourself that you don’t have feelings for me like that?”

She couldn’t believe him! It was as if the universe was forcing her to outright say it. But…she couldn’t. if she said it, it was real. There flirty, friendly banter was ruined and their friendship was no longer a safe friendship that she could depend on…she had so few solid friendships right now with Winn and James having lied to her and Alex being busy with the new girlfriend and all… But if she says nothing again, then she’s stuck with this unbearable tension that’s always between them. Like a cloud in the air, shocking them if they get too close. Something that made her furious whenever he dared not listen to her and made him ache to have her look at him like he was worth something. That same thing that makes him act like a stupid puppy. Did she have magnetic powers too….Question for later, he filed away.

“Are you serious?? I come barging down here to tell you that I DON’T like you back? Are all boys on Daxam this dumb or-“

And that was it. In every relationship, there is a specific button that person A can press to set person B off like a volcano. Daxam and her prejudice against it was that button for Mon-El.

“Excuse me?! Just because we’re not the all-knowing high and mighty Kryptonians does not mean we’re dumb? I’m assuming you didn’t come down here just to insult me….so…what is it?” he almost glares at her expectantly, too tired for this much emotion. He had just had to deal with her rejection like a bullet straight to his heart. He didn’t know you felt actual pain in your chest when your heart broke.

“What is…why did I come?” she huffed, losing steam, “To…to tell you that you need to go shopping! You’re outgrowing your clothes and you look sloppy!” There was a heat in her eyes, mingled with fear, like a cat ready to pounce, but afraid of the counter-attack. And from that look, he suddenly understood. Maybe the gods had given him a divine strike of insight. He didn’t know how he realized it, but he did. Kara liked him back. She CARED. Kara felt the same. It kept repeating in his head, a hopeful wish that maybe could come true. He could tell she was too shy to say it, that much he knew. And he knew they would have to have a serious talk eventually, but maybe…if he pushed her far enough, she would forget her fear, just give in and tell him how she felt. He scoffed, almost amused, “My clothes?” he raised an eyebrow, knowing his calmness would set her off even more, “What about your clothes? Do you think that tiny little red skirt is really sufficient?”

“My-my skirt?? I have tights on under it! And what about you? Running around, half-cocked, trying to show off your ‘hero’ skills!” she further invaded his space, shoving him backwards. Showing her anger like this really wasn’t like her, but she knew she wouldn’t hurt him. It felt good to let out her frustration physically without fear of causalities.

He had just planned to goad her into being honest, but she was starting to get under his skin. He wasn’t showing off; he really was trying to do good, be better. “I was only doing what you said! Be the hero, Mon-El! Use your powers for good!”

“Until you left the people defenseless to save me when I didn’t need saving!” she rolled her eyes and he couldn’t stand it. He hated when she rolled her eyes at him like that, like he was a child.

He gritted his teeth to hold back his anger and almost laughed in disbelief, like he had when she asked if he liked her, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I forgot the perfect Kara doesn’t need saving!”

She refrained from stomping her foot, but only just, “I never said I was perfect! But I wanted to trust you so badly, Mon-El. I want a partner that knows I can take care of myself!”

He almost snickered, “Of course you can take care of yourself, Kara. You’re the most self-sufficient person I know.”

“But you had to save me because you care about me, huh?” she meant it as a taunt, but she came off sounding a little insecure and unsure of her choice to ask that question.

He couldn’t believe she was still asking this-hadn’t he opened himself up raw for her? Was that not enough yet? “Yes, Kara! I do! I care about you! And your stupid adorable crinkle and the blinding goodness shining out of your damn soul!” he was breathing harder now, the intensity of the emotions exerting themselves on him now. He wanted to be good for her. No, for him. She made him see that he COULD be a great man and he wanted that. Not just because he wanted to deserve her, but...maybe he did deserve to make it off Daxam. Maybe he was meant for something more than to be the prince people blindly bowed to.

His chest suddenly felt heavy with the realization of what he was feeling and what was happening. It didn’t help when she walked towards him, pushing him back towards the wall behind him. Her eyes were tractor beams of blue holding him frozen in place with her indignant glare, somehow touched by yet another of his confessions and annoyed….How does one person even convey all that??

“And maybe, if you listened for once in your life, Mon-El of Daxam, you would realize that you’re not alone.”

He could hardly breathe. She was so close to him, “You mean-“

“My turn to talk,” she frowned with adorable determination and took a deep breath, stealing herself, “Yes, I mean I…feel…I don’t know! I feel SOMETHING towards you and it’s stronger than anything else I’ve ever felt. I mean I love my sister, obviously, and I would die for my friends, but this is…different. I tried my luck with boys when I was young and god I was so bad at it…but even then, all I felt was butterflies. I was nervous of what they would think of me. But it wasn’t this…this…” she looked straight into his dark eyes and did the bravest thing she could ever do-she was honest with herself, “This is overwhelming. This isn’t something I know how to do, Mon-El. You do some pretty stupid things and you make me so ANGRY. And then you do something amazing just because you feel like being good and it makes me question my judgements. You surprise me. I expect one thing and you do the other. You make me feel…safe. And familiar. Like I can say anything to you and it’ll be okay...and then there’s your puppy dog eyes that don’t give up and geez that one time you came out of the DEO shower and-“

He was beyond words. Everything he wanted her to feel…she was saying she did. And he didn’t care that she didn’t know how to go about it. He didn’t really either. Relationships weren’t exactly what he did on Daxam.  He didn’t care that she was awkward and rambling and sometimes yelled at him too much. He would take her for all of that. He wanted her. You didn’t choose your partners on Daxam. But here you did. And she was his choice.

He accidentally cut her off with a laugh of awed disbelief. In that moment, there was nothing left she could do. She obeyed the only logical option screaming at her in her head and kissed him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him towards her, her lips finding his as a release of all the pent-up, confusing feelings neither of them could get a hold on. He startled at first, making a short, deep humming noise in his throat before he slid his hands around her waist, holding her like she was precious. And she was.

She tangled her arms around his neck and leaned her full weight on him, sending them crashing against the wall behind him. His back hit the concrete and he didn’t know if it was that that send his head spinning or the taste of her lips. She tasted like she smelled-the scent that invaded his dreams- vanilla donuts and lilac soap. She was sweet to the point of being dizzying. He lost his fingers in her hair and marveled at how soft the gold strands were in his grip. She was so strong in every aspect of her life,  yet her body was so soft….How? She pulled back when she felt the  little bits of concrete fall onto their shoulders. She looked at his face, nervous of his reaction, even after he admitted his feelings not hours before. But what she saw made her laugh giddily. The man was….there is no better word than flustered. His face was shocked, but there was a small smile there, like he had just woke from a dream. If she ever doubted he was head over heels for her…

But then his eyes locked onto hers and his gaze became a flame, burning through her, “Kara…”

She looked up at him and nodded, “Yeah?”

He smirked at her wickedly, “Tell me to stop right now or the wall will not be the only thing we destroy tonight…”

Her nerves were set ablaze.  She would usually laugh at that kind of come on, but combined with the desire in his eyes and the gruffness of his voice… she may have felt her knees wobble. He was holding himself back. Because he wanted to make sure she was okay with this. And that might have been the hottest thing he’d ever done.

She swallowed the tightness in her throat, still a little nervous, “No, I-I’m not gonna say that.”

His answering smile was bright and genuine and possibly the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. He squeezed his arms wrapped around her, almost like a hug. He brushed back a lock of hair from her face that had fallen out from behind her ear, “Kara…don’t be nervous. I would never hurt you. I’ve messed up before and probably will again, but hurting you....that’s not something I’d ever think was okay.”

“It’s not that. I just…” she looked down for a second shyly, “I’ve never done this before.”

He laughed gently, “I know.”

“You know?? How do you know? You don’t know,” she babbled, blushing crimson.

He lifts one eyebrow, “Contrary to popular DEO opinion, I’m sure, I am not an idiot. You were a child when you left Krypton so you obviously did nothing there. Once you got here, you had super strength you couldn’t control. Just learning to keep a hold on that myself, I understand how hard it is to control how much force you put behind your grip. I certainly didn’t think someone as compassionate as you would be ok with breaking your partner in that area…” She giggled, actually giggled, and nodded, “No one thinks you’re dumb, Mon-El…”

“Eh…beg to differ. But Kara….?”

“Yes?”

He smirked lustfully at her and started laying sweet, nipping kisses from just below her ear to her breastbone, “You can’t break me…”

She inhaled sharply at the first touch of his lips on her neck; it was like everywhere he touched, her blood heated up and she wanted to jump out of her own skin. Her heart hammered as he bit her earlobe gently, playing with her until she was ready to make a move of her own.

Quite unlike herself, she started to feel at ease with the foreign situation, a large grin starting to grow on her face, “Oh, I don’t know…I’m pretty strong.”

To back up her words, she grabbed the neck of his shirt and yanked him off the wall only to slam him back into it even harder. Dust fell from the ceiling at the impact and his eyes eyebrows shot up, pupils blown wide, “Woah…”

She laughed at him and gripped him in another searing kiss that he had no hope or power to resist. His hands were quick to work, throwing off her lose sweater and sliding up under the back of her shirt. God, the feel of her was addicting. He could spend hours mapping the curve of her back and the way it arched into him when he traced her spine. Hmm, the feeling of her breasts smashed against his chest wasn’t bad either. It was all doing things for him.

He was so caught up with her tongue licking his bottom lip that he didn’t even notice the feeling of his blood running south, hardening his cock. But Kara did. She was not used to feeling that against her.

She gasped and pulled back, smiling coyly at him, “Really? Just from kissing?”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance at her, “I’ve felt this way for a while, Kara….bottled up emotions and all that.”

“In that case…let me help you out a little,” she grinned teasingly as she hooked her finger in the top of his undershirt, just one finger. She pulled it down with her inhuman strength and ripped it right down the middle like tissue paper.

He laughed in surprise at that, “You know, you’ve got a lot of tricks for a virgin, Kara Zor-El,” he kissed her sweetly on the lips and muttered, “But I’m not a virgin. I’ve got more.”

He pushed his hips into hers with one smooth thrust and he watched her face, feeling these things for the first time.

Her eyes went wide, almost startled, at the reaction it got out of her body. Her core was tingling and she suddenly wanted to be wrapped around him like a monkey. She shook that image out of her head and promptly jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He stumbled slightly and caught her, flipping them around so she was the one with her back against the wall. He could tell the time for teasing was over, at least with words.

He dove back in, kissing her soft lips, drinking sweetness from her. His little shining light in the dark. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips into the flesh at the small of her back, needing her closer as he forgot himself.

Soon she was catching on, tugging at his hair and running her lips down his neck this time, sucking the skin into her mouth. Making out she had done before. But no man had ever responded to her like this before. His head dropped back as she bit and licked at the pale skin just above his shoulder. He moaned and his hips pushed up against her again, pinning her to the wall. She didn’t think he was aware he was doing it this time. He seemed dazed. She tightened her legs around his waist and started grinding back against him. The moment she did, he grunted from deep in his throat and opened his eyes.

“Kara,” he laughed, sounding more like a growl with the timbre of his voice, “You don’t understand what you’re doing to me.”

That was good then, she was taking mental notes for later, “Then show me.” With any other woman, it would sound overly flirty like a blatant tease, but with her, he could tell she was just being honest. She didn’t quite know what to do. She wanted him to show her what he wanted.

All he wanted was her. So he decided to show her that. The first thing he wanted was her skin on his. With that in mind, he tugged at her shirt, possibly a little too hard, ripping it apart and sending the buttons flying.

Her mouth dropped open at that, “That was a work shirt. Is that payback?” she laughed.

“No, uh…” he blushed, “That was an accident.” Yes, he had had sex before, but never with superpowers. This should be interesting.

He flashed her a brilliant, cocky smile and watching him with that mega watt grin and his chest straining with the effort of keeping her in his arms…Kara’s nerves disappeared. It was like that smile was a magic trick. And the look he was giving her was contagious. It was like that, the one and only time she’d been drunk, when he was laughing with her. Carefree. And she couldn’t help but just smile back at him, weightless. Floaty. And now she knew it wasn’t because of drinks. “God, you’re so beautiful…” he sighed against her neck, trailing kisses down between her bra, tugging the soft cotton cups of the undergarment with his teeth, feeling a little wild. He pulled her close against him with all of his strength, nipping at her cleavage expertly. She groaned, feeling the force of his hands was strange. It wasn’t oppressive at all because she knew he would stop if asked. But it felt…real. She exhaled out a sound

of pleasure that she had never heard herself make and suddenly the spot on the wall behind him that she’d been staring at was scorched, a singed hole in the concrete….Oh. She wanted to hit herself for her loss of control, but she quickly got distracted. Mon-El hadn’t even realized what she’d done. He was continuing his ministrations, reaching around her to unhook her bra. He pulled back just enough to get a look at her.

And when he did, breathless and grinning, she could feel him twitch in his jeans against her stomach, “Stunning.” She was like a dream, what he had imagined angels looked like. He slid his hands up from her waist without even thinking, cupping her breasts in his hands. He watched her expression as he squeezed, flicking one nipple with his finger.

She jerked in his arms, her hands digging into his shoulders as she huffed out a breath, “Mon-El…”

That expression on her face was going to become his favorite pretty soon-flushed and pleased. She was squirming in his arms as he dropped his head down to suck a rosy nipple into his mouth. She whined at the feeling, kissing over his shoulders as she clung to him, “I…I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?” he muttered as he walked them across the room, talking in between kissing her lips.

“That this felt so good. I wouldn’t have waited if I’d known,” she panted. Though the words were innocent, they turned him on immensely. Having the honor to show this whole new world to her was exciting him. He restrained a growl and sped forward, another dent in another wall. He slid her hands up above her head so that she couldn’t use her sneaky touch to distract him from his mission. He wanted her to beg. It had been way too long since he’d had a woman in his arms. And he’d never held one he cared for this much.

She bit her lip in anxious anticipation, “Mon, what are you-“

Before she could finish her question, he was back to her breasts. He kissed between the valley of them, giving the neglected nipple a soft tug with his teeth before he continued his path down her body. His lips worshipped her stomach, the skin there like vanilla velvet under his tongue. He swirled his tongue in her belly button for a brief moment. When she giggled at the sensation, he smiled to himself, memorizing her ticklish spots for later. He nipped at her hip bone, dropping to his knees now, like a man at the alter.

She let out her first real moan of the night, the sound almost getting caught in her throat. She blushed, trying to stop the heat from invading her face. She shouldn’t be embarrassed by the sound, but this was all so weird to her. Wonderful, but not usually a part of her day to day life. His lips on her skin felt like…oh she didn’t even know! But it was as if wherever his mouth went, all the nerves in her skin centered in that one place and lit up, “You’re good at this…” “Well, I have done this before.”

His actions made something in her lower stomach tighten. It was heated pressure…down there. It made her want to move, need to move. She envisioned tackling him to the ground for a brief second before his fingers slid under the waistband of her panties. He teasingly slid his finger just under the panties, spanning the skin across her hips. Her hips, in response, flexed and pushed up against his hand without her permission. Her eyes widened and she briefly considered the very silly possibility that Daxamites were some kind of wizards. He chuckled against her skin, his hot breath ghosting over her like torture. She dropped her head back against the wall in frustration and groaned.

“Relax, Kara. I’ve got you.”

The words were reassuring when she needed it. Without a warning-because he knew it would scare her- he slid his fingers downwards, pulling off her underwear. As he explored, his fingers found the nub right at the top of the juncture between her thighs. He pressed down lightly, testing how reactive her body was.

“Fuck!” her voice went higher, breathless as she cursed reflexively and thrust against his touch. A thrill shot up through her body from her center, little streams of white hot sensations racing through her veins. Very sensitive, apparently. He squeezed her hip, prompting her to lift her head off of the wall and looked at him, “Watch me, Kara. I want to see your eyes light up.”

She nodded, trying to focus on his face and sort out one feeling from another as he began to play her body like a piano. He continued testing her, sliding his fingers in between her lips.  He had to stop for a second and collect himself when he felt how wet she was already, making him throb in his jeans.

“Oh…” she was almost mewling, small erotic sounds tumbling from her throat as her body felt something new. When he slipped a finger inside her, just wanting to feel her, she slid her hands in his hair and gripped it hard, “Mon-El…”

He looked up at her, stroking her hip with one hand, “Yes?”

“That-I…I” he could feel her clenching around his finger, scared of not being in control of her body.

“Shhh,” he kissed her hipbone affectionately, “I know. but it’s ok. You’ll like it. Trust me.”

And-she realized quite suddenly-she did. She did trust him now. The only reason she hadn’t before was because he didn’t listen. But the reason he didn’t listen was ironically now why she felt so safe. She understood he put her before everything.

She nodded and took in a deep breath, relaxing her body as he slid another finger in, while rubbing her clit in circles with his thumb, “Oh…ooookay,” she smiled as she relaxed, leaning back against the wall as an onslaught of hormones hit her, “That’s good…that’s really good. Mon,” she moaned.

He watched her, somehow finding her adorable and sexy all at once. He focused on her pleasure and ignored his body screaming at him to take her against the wall. Later.  For now, he decided to distract himself from the heavenly sound of her moaning his name by finally tasting her. He may have never acted on it before now, but he had dreamed of this. Oh, had he dreamed of this. He amped it up a notch, dropping his mouth to her core and licking a straight line up to her clit, focusing there. He flicked his tongue over the little bundle of nerves over and over again.

She screamed, “Oh my God! Mon-El!” her hands tried to grip onto something, anything. One hand went to the wall beside her and punched it, rubble falling to the ground in the wake of her passion. The other hand squeezed his shoulder so hard, he knew he would have a hand shaped bruise there tomorrow. He knows he’ll get hard everytime he sees that bruise for the next couple of days. He pumped his fingers faster inside of her, curling them on the up-stroke, searching for something. He wanted her to know what the BEST could feel like. He wanted to give her everything he could. He sucked her clit into his mouth while his free hand slid up to rest on her ass. Oh, how gorgeous that was too. Damn her.

She cried out above him and thrust wildly into his movements, “Un-there! Right there oh god yes!”

Her voice was like music and he closed his eyes to listen. He could tell she was close, her walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

He smirked against her as he got an idea. Without warning, he started moving his fingers as fast as he could, in and out, in and out at inhuman speeds. It was a little rough, but not enough to hurt her.

“Oh my god, oh my god, yes, that feels so good, Mon-El, keep going, please, I’m gonna-MMM!”

And beautifully, she exploded. Her nerves went off in a million directions as she moaned at the top of her lungs, not even words, but unintelligible sounds of ecstasy. Of course, she had tried to do this to herself before, but…she was not as practiced as him. She never would’ve been able to imagine what this felt like before. It was indescribable and overwhelming and Jesus she was drowning and she just never wanted it to stop.

“Oh Rao!” she cursed as she slumped back against the wall, sighing. She opened her eyes and started to collect herself as he rose back to his full height in front of her.

“I take it, you’re not scared of losing control anymore?”

He was smirking at her boyishly and there was a fine sheen of sweat over his chest that made the crappy fluorescent lights shine slightly on his skin. She wasn’t sure if it was the orgasm she just had or if she was just finally being honest with herself, but god damn, was the man gorgeous.

She shook her head rapidly at him and slid her hands down his chest, quickly trying to undo the button on his pants and pull his zipper down as fast as she could.

He moaned as her fingers brushed his erection, but took her hand, “Woah, that’s a little fast. You ok?”

She grinned like an idiot and shot her eyebrows up, “Seriously? I’m beyond ok! Just…ugh, take these off.”

Right after the joint effort to remove his pants, she did what she had been wanting to do for the last 30 minutes and tackled him to the ground. He fell to the floor with a rough thud and a naked blonde straddling him.

“Ok, I’m alright with this,” he chuckled as if he was weighing his options. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her with every emotion she had ever made him feel. She laid her hands on his chest tenderly, pushing a curl behind her ear as she smiled at him, pulling back.

“I didn’t really have a plan after tackling you…” she admitted, still a little shy somehow.

“You never have to apologize for jumping on me, Kara,” he looks over her with hunger in his eyes, “But uh…” he moaned, shifting his hips, “You’re right on top of where I need you most and I’m kinda dying here. If you don’t decide on a next move soon, I’m gonna flip us over and fuck you into the floor.” She startled at that; she had never heard him curse this much before tonight. She didn’t expect to be that kind of woman that enjoyed dirty talk, but….despite her recent release, those words combined with the look on his face had her tingling everywhere once again. She was ready for more. Actually, she thinks she was just…ready.

A crooked smile lifted her lips as she leaned down into his face teasingly and whispered, “Then do it.” A challenge he was willing to take.

He growled and flipped them over before a second ticked by on the clock. He kissed her passionately, licking the inside of her cheek and nipping her tongue, “Are you sure about this?”

She rolled her eyes at him and this time, he didn’t mind, “Mon, El…I am ready for this. Trust me.” She echoed his comforting words from earlier and she saw relief flood through his eyes.

“Good.”  And without another word, she felt him lining up the tip of his cock to her opening. She watched him nervously as he slid himself up and down her slit, coating himself in her wetness to make the entry a little easier for her.  The muscles in his neck flexed as he restrained himself from entering. He had to make this good for them both. Just the touch of her flesh against him had goosebumps shivering across his back and his shaft aching to be inside her. He looked up at her face, still obsessed with watching her reactions, as he slowly thrust into her, inch by inch until he was fully seated. He was a little surprised she could actually take him all. She was a virgin, after all.

Her mouth dropped open, her kiss-stained lips making a beautiful pout as she squeezed her eyes shut, back arching off the ground. Her breasts pushed up against his chests, nipples hard and brushing against his. She fit so perfectly into him. Or him into her. He couldn’t tell anymore. She was keening, a low humming sound. he couldn’t tell what the sound meant though.

“Kara,” he stroked her cheek to make her open her eyes, “Does it hurt? Are you ok?”

The moment he thrust into her, she had gone to another world. She never understood the phrase seeing stars until now. The intrusion did feel sort of odd; he was stretching her as much as she could stand and pulsing against her. Her mind was on overdrive, trying to process the feeling of being so full and whole. God, it felt good. Her face was burning, her skin was on fire and the molten coil in her stomach was growing tighter again. So much heat everywhere.

She laughed lightly, like a tinkling of bells in his ear, and nodded, “Oh…yes! Yes, I’m good, Mon.” she wiggled her hips experimentally, delighting in the feeling of him swelling even more inside her at the movement. She tightened her walls down on him and dropped her head back against the floor, reveling at how good he felt inside of her-solid and so warm and…perfect. She sighed.

He choked on his own groan and glared down at her, the feeling of her wet heat enveloping him so tightly almost making him lose his mind, “That was evil.”

He took her words to mean that he was free to move as he liked. He braced his hands on either side of her hand and thrust up into her as hard as he could, pulling out slowly to torture her, before pushing back in forcefully.

“Uh,” she grunted, clawing at his shoulders, “Mon…El…please,” she looked up at him, pleading for him to give her what she wanted, “Just…faster!”

Somehow, she knew that would feel even better. An instinct was telling her what she needed from him. She didn’t know how that worked and she didn’t care. “Kara,” he groaned gruffly into her, “That’s just what I was thinking.”

He started pushing into her body faster and faster, harder than any human man could. Not that she minded, he lifted his hips at the end of every thrust into her, hitting that spot that fried her brain and scrambled coherent thought.

His deep, contented moan of “Fuck, yes!”  was met with her light “Oh, that’s amazing,” as they both struggled for breath.

She lost her shyness and her desires took over as she slid her hands around to his ass, squeezing hard and pulling him even faster into her body.

He lost his mind as barreled into her without end. He could hardly breathe. His thoughts were a jumble of her name and the beautiful look on her face right now and the smell coming up off her skin while their bodies slid against each other, sweaty and overheated.

“Mon, I need you right…” he anticipated what she wanted and angled a particularly strong thrust straight against her favorite spot, “THERE!” she laughed through a ragged moan, “Oh! So much…,” she rested her face against his shoulder, trying to catch her breath.

He growled a reply as he stroked her hair, “You’re so tight…” he felt her heat seeping into his skin, “I almost can’t take it.”

She got a sudden idea, wanting to take control. She flipped them back over, making her the one that could control the pace. She sunk down onto him again, feeling him deeper in this position. Her toes curled as her head fell forward, “Shit, I can feel you…so deep,” she whined, not caring what she sounded like. “Ungh!” he grunted, pumping his hips up into her, searching for any kind of friction to relieve the ache in his balls, “Please, Kara, move.”

She blinked, quickly deciding her best course of action was to lift herself up and down over him. She understood the cowgirl metaphor of riding a man now. And she had to say, it might become a favorite of hers. Having stronger powers than him, she was able to thrust over him so quickly, their bodies almost would’ve looked like a blur to anyone watching.

“Oh, lord above!” he shouted at the ceiling, holding onto her hips for an anchor, “Damn it, you feel good!”

Seeing him so blatantly enjoy himself sent a fresh wave of lust washing over her, making her even slicker against him. She circled her hips at the end of a thrust, curious to see what it would feel like and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she released a breathy scream, “Shit!”

He chuckled and counter thrusted back up against her, “Do it again, but slower,” he instructed, slowly learning what she liked.

She took a second just to breathe, feeling her head spin, before she listened quietly. She sat herself fully down on him and rotated her hips slowly in a circle. Right as she did, he ground his hips upward against her most sensitive spot. She screamed out an “Oh!” in complete satisfaction, teetering closer to the edge. The knot in her abdomen was beginning to tingle so intensely, it almost hurt, “Mon El,” her voice broke as she tried to communicate just how much she was feeling to him, “It’s gonna happen a-again…I need-“

He sat up slightly and slid his arms around her back, pulling his knees up for her to lean against, “I know what you need, beautiful,” he whispered into her ear, caressing her back. The new position had her sitting in his lap. He kissed her deeply as he slid slowly and smoothly in and out of her, drawing out every last bit of the pleasure. She sobbed against his shoulder at the feeling of his cock dragging against her overly sensitive walls, “Oh, please.”

She could almost feel the hot prick of tears in the corners of her eyes, the intensity running her nerve endings raw.

He was not much better, having long since lost the ability to form entire words. He kissed her cheek right before he thrust back up into her one last time, as hard as he could, “Ungh!” he breathed out the primal sound, the throbbing in his shaft releasing all at once. His brain short-circuited and all he ever wanted was this feeling and her in his arms forever.

He could feel Kara’s nails scratching down his back and she let go once again, crying out like a siren, “Ah!” her hair was gold under the lights, a halo around her as her spine formed a lovely curve. She came undone with sweat glistening on her top lip, part of her curls matted to the side of her face, the ghost of a smile on her red lips. Now THAT was a comet-striking, a flame shooting across the sky, lovely and strong at the same time, shooting soft light down on everything around it. He could watch her shoot across the sky for the rest of his life. As she came down from her high, she looked around them at the sleeping quarters of the DEO. There were several mysterious dents and hand sized holes in the walls, rubble lined the floor. One of the lights overhead was flickering on and off as dust fell from the ceiling tiles, “Oh no!”

The furrow of his eyebrows at that moment could’ve rivaled The Crinkle, “That’s really not what a guy wants to here with a woman on his lap.”

She slapped his shoulder playfully and gestured to the room, “Look around you, hot shot.”

And he did; he surveyed the room much like she had seconds before. Except, his reaction wasn’t worry so much as hysterics.

He bust out laughing, “Oh ho ho! Oh my GOD! J’onn is going to kill us!” Her face went stark white out of nowhere, “Mon-El…that’s the least of our worries.”

“What?” he pouted in confusion until she pointed at a camera in the corner of the room, “The cameras in private dorms turn off at night.”

She shook her head, feeling sick, “Alex overrode that order last week once she heard that white Martians might be attacking soon. All cameras are to remain on at all times….”

“So….are you destroying the security tape or am I?”

A/n: Phew! That was long! But it’s finally done! So excited. Anyway, i kind of want to write a morning after drabble to this, showing Alex’s reaction to the tapes and J’onn’s reaction to the destruction of property. But I am too tired at the moment. If you guys have any suggestions for prompts, lines you want included or whatever, then as always, just let me know!

[romancevsreality-blog]

vanderpump rules, season five, episode seventeen: the editing is so shady in this episode and i love everyone for it

I completely forgot about Tom and Tom in drag until the opening of this episode, but we’re back in New Orleans, and they’re as dragged out as ever. Katie sits and drinks a FourLoko because she’s basic as hell while she rehashes the story to Stassi, who claims she had no idea because remember - these people weren’t friends a year ago. Stassi was off having cuffing season with her boyfriend and pretending she’s morally superior to these people. She’s crying because of it, though. Katie’s tired of pretending that Tom didn’t fuck the girl in Vegas, Ariana and Scheana are pretending that Schwartz wasn’t forced to propose to Katie at gunpoint, and Sandoval is just going to defend Schwartz with all his might for the rest of time. And Sandoval is right - Katie gave Schwartz an ultimatum despite their relationship having its issues.

What prompts is literally an angry rant from Sandoval in drag, him kicking the door in while yelling “He’s a fucking battered wife!”, and Tom Schwartz sitting on the bed in his wig cap, trying not to laugh at the entire scenario.

It is hilarious. I am dead.

Katie, meanwhile, is still trying to play the victim with Kristen, Brittany, Jax, and Stassi, who are trying to reassure her that she’s not the stupidest person1 when Schwartz comes in and insults Kristen and then calls Katie a bitch, and then walks out. It is literally pointless, but it leads to Kristen and Brittany talking about how Tom Schwartz only gets this way when Tom Sandoval is around. Kristen’s irrational hatred for Tom Sandoval isn’t cute anymore. Y’all broke up three years ago and Kristen slept with everyone she could during their relationship, so. I don’t get why Kristen hates him so much. I’m also massively upset because Brittany is on the wrong side f history here, taking Kristen’s side.

I find myself questioning everything when Jax starts making sense. Then again, he’s 2000 years old, so he must have some form of wisdom. I must be as drunk as Tom Schwartz is, because Jax just wants Tom to apologize to Katie to see if that will make Katie own up to her own shitty behavior. And if it doesn’t (and it won’t), then Tom will know to GTFO this relationship. It’s not the worst advice. He takes Tom over to Katie, where Katie and Stassi are laying in bed, and basically herds the other girls out. Jax loses my favor swiftly, though, when he complains about having to perform the act of oral sex on his girlfriend. Come on, Jax. You’re better than this.

The next day, Tom Schwartz wakes up in a dress, with a boner, in Jax and Brittany’s room. Tom Sandoval wakes up with nails still on. Ariana and Tom talk about how weird and awkward things are going to be today, and I’m mostly concerned that Tom Sandoval probably slept in his contacts because he couldn’t take them out with those pointy devil nails on.

The next scene is one of the shadiest scenes I’ve seen in reality television, though.

Scheana and Shay are in bed talking, and they’re discussing the fact that Katie and Tom fight all the time and it’s a great idea that they had a prenup. Scheana wasn’t worried about having a prenup with Shay, because she trusted him. What was he going to do, empty out her bank account?2

Stassi’s having a hard time, because the entire time Tom and Katie have been together, they’ve been having the same argument - Katie gets drunk, they fight; Tom gets drunk, they fight. And she’s right - how do you support a couple who can’t seem to stop having the same argument over and over again?

Here comes the Contractually Obligated Scene That Takes Place At Sexy Unique Restaurant With Lisa Vanderpump. They’re getting so heavy-handed with these now, it’s amazing. Lisa’s at Sexy Unique Restaurant, instructing Suck A Dick Diana not to let the gardeners cut too many branches and, oh, promoting someone we’ve never seen before to a server position. Here’s Katie O’Malley, who’s been a host at Sexy Unique Restaurant and for some reason showing her midriff at work, getting a shot at being a server at Sexy Unique Restaurant. Sure. Anyway, Katie calls Lisa and tells her a brief rundown - lots of fighting, blah blah blah. Lisa wonders if they are entirely capable of having fun with each other (answer: probably not?).

The Gang’s at a cabana by the pool, and everyone’s treating Tom Schwartz with kid gloves. Tom’s afraid of Katie, and they’re all pretty much like “AWWWW, TOMMMMM.”

Kristen, Katie, and Stassi go to Stassi’s childhood home, which is up for sale. I lived in the same house for most of my childhood and my adult life, and I’m having a tough time reconciling the idea that at some point it won’t be mine. My mom says she’s going to move soon and it hurts my heart to think about it. We meet Stassi’s grandma, who has to suffer through Stassi telling her about how hungover she is. Her grandma is a boss bitch, fabulously dressed and a genuine sweetheart. She’s the one who gave Stassi her nickname, and she’s pretty much what you want to be when you’re a grandma. Stassi asks for her Chanels, something I would do, too.

Back at the cabana, Jax is trying to talk Tom out of marrying Katie because Jax sees what we’re all seeing. Tom claims he was being dramatic in the heat of the moment - he probably is - and then Sandoval comes in with a pink tank top for him and the moment’s broken and over. This show is full of red flags of how not to be in a relationship and how toxicity works. Meanwhile, Stassi ruins a perfectly gorgeous dress by getting in the pool at her dad’s house with it on, and Katie feels validated that everyone can see that it’s not just her that gets drunk and mean. The mere fact that she thinks that’s “winning” says so much. Proving someone is just as bad as you are is not “winning”, it means there’s something wrong with both of you.

Katie O’Malley is getting quizzed by Lisa, and isn’t fully prepared. Like, at all. This girl has barely looked at this food, let alone knows the menu. She basically kind of rambles on and makes up dish ingredients, and Lisa is unimpressed. Girl doesn’t even know what the specials are, and that’s usually the easiest one to remember. Sigh. Katie’s sent to try again later.

Tom comes into Katie’s room like “BUUUUUUUUUUBBA?????” in that horrifically passive aggressive way. He pretends not to know why they’re fighting, when it’s glaringly obvious. Katie wants him to admit that he slept with the girl in Vegas, and he maintains steadfast that he didn’t. And here’s the thing - I don’t think he did. Whiskey dick is a hell of an issue, and I’m sure he tried. And it’s harder to be like “I tried, but I couldn’t,” than it is to just flat out lie by omission, which is what Tom is doing. I do wish he would admit that what he did was hurtful, even so, and Katie has the right to be upset about it. He’s basically a little drunk. We get a good glimpse into how they fight, because Tom is like, “You were a nightmare for the first three years we dated,” And Katie’s like, “You can’t throw that in my face!” Even though she was literally just throwing the Vegas girl thing from two years ago in his face. They both decided to marry each other, they have to live in the bed they made. They can’t blame each other and refuse to take accountability. Katie’s trying to have a serious conversation, and Tom literally squirts whipped cream in his mouth because he’s a child. They weirdly make up, and basically mutually agree to squash shit. Or at least put a band-aid on things because they want to have fun.

All the guys go out and The Toms are wearing fucking zoot suits and take Fuck You shots. Jax says Jameson is disgusting and I clutch my pearls. They take shots of chartreuse because they’re barbarians, and that leads to a game of Spin The Bottle. I’m glad these 30 year olds are playing Spin The Bottle. Tom Schwartz starts the game, and his last kiss as a non-married man was with Tom Sandoval. It makes perfect sense. I’m very happy for them, because they’re very much in love. Peter and Stassi kiss - they dated for a bit, I forgot - and pretty much everyone kisses. It’s very bizarre. Peter and Stassi wind up making out for a bit, and they really are a good looking couple. Please date.

Tom Sandoval pretends that he doesn’t know there isn’t a difference between extensions and weave, even though he has both. He goes outside and smokes a cigarette with Kristen for some reason, and it immediately starts with Kristen berating him and calling him an asshole. He looks so confused, but Kristen’s upset that Tom mentioned to Carter about their past relationship. Kristen literally says "I cheated on you with TONS of guys when we were together. How dare you talk to my new boyfriend about it." Carter, who is literally fetch and thus will never happen, apparently knows all about what a monster Kristen has been. But what really drives Kristen crazy, I think, is that Tom Sandoval got over it. She’ll never get over Tom Sandoval, but he’s over her and has moved past her. She tells him to stop trying to ruin her relationship, when… she spent the entirety of the third season of this show trying to break up Tom and Ariana. Tom Sandoval clearly gives no fucks about Kristen and Carter, and she really, really wants him to.

Over at Villa Rosa, Ken and Lisa lay in their majestic bed, surrounded by dogs. They’re talking about opening a new, “young” restaurant, and bringing in new partners. They discuss Tom Sandoval being brought in as a partner, which is actually incredible. I’m always a fan of these people preparing their post-Vanderpump life.

There’s a kind of gross scene where Tom Schwartz gives Katie a lap dance, and honestly, knowing these two don’t have sex, I can’t imagine why they ever would. Katie makes a joke that she has to pay Tom to have a sex with her - I mean, Tom has admitted that he was a little concerned he was asexual for years, so I can totally see Tom being the one getting off on being withholding. They go back, Tom Sandoval tells the guys about his conversation with Kristen and the girls put temporary tattoos all over a passed out Tom Schwartz’s face.

The next morning, Jax has eye masks on his eyes but claims they’re “chicken cutlets”, because for a metrosexual and virtually hairless man, Jax knows shockingly little about beauty maintenance. Brittany asks him not to post pictures of him in drag on Instagram, but wasn’t Brittany kissing Kristen during Spin The Bottle the night before? Oh, yeah, that’s because her homophobia is arbitrary and it’s okay for girls to kiss each other but god forbid a man dress up in drag as a joke. The gang’s all packing to go home, and Shay is trying to wax poetic about marriage and that it’s hard work. He talks about how it requires listening, and Scheana literally interrupts him to ask for her steamer. The editors know what’s coming. Tom and Katie agree to bottle their shit up, and this is such a bad idea and not an appropriate way to go about this. Katie just wants to focus on her flowers and her dress, and… this is not going to end well.

Next Week: The Sexy Unique Restaurant photoshoot! Scheana feels left out. Stassi is going to the bottom of the barrel for dating - OkCupid, and Katie and Tom ask Lisa to perform their wedding and she’s hesitant, for good reason.

See you next week!

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

Of course Katie is drinking a Four Loko at the opener. I can’t with her ever.

I just want The Toms to live happily ever after.

Kristen is really desperate to make herself relevant on this show.

Stassi’s dad is hot. So is Shay.

Just the worst. Absolutely the worst. ↩︎

Oh, wait, that’s exactly what he did. I love the schadenfreude this show has towards its cast. God bless the editor who found that clip. ↩︎