#I kinda lost my train of thought here- I woke up after noon and have been writing this out since then

[erineas]

Being in a relationship with more than one version of the same skeleton should be a bit clashing sometimes. Especially if their personalities go different ways.

Imagine your sleep schedule is a mess and you just go to bed awfully late one night. You know you're bound to wake up past noon the next day, but you're too tired to care. There's nothing important to worry about tomorrow, anyways.

Hopefully, the one that finds you first is someone like Classic Sans, probably sent by Papyrus to pick you up for breakfast since he would be sleeping too if given the opportunity. He would see you there, hiding behind a comfy cocoon of your sheets, and would climb next to you to resume his napping in your company.

You two would happily nap the hours away if it wasn't for your next skeleton to appear.

Someone like Swapfell Sans would burst the door open (careful enough to not be too loud to startle you or to snap it from it's hinges, for that matter), probably thinking you were already awake. It's a surprise he didn't check on you earlier since he's the type of guy to be up and about at the very same hour you went to sleep, but he still didn't wait until noon to give you your 'good morning' kiss before going on his day.

He would wake you right then and there, complaining about how you shouldn't waste a productive day. He actually doesn't care if you use it to be productive or not, that's just his way to help you fix your schedule. And after all this time dating him, you know he means well.

From then on, your tired mind would have two options: leave the bed and fight the grogginess until you're functional again (and wait for him to sleep together at a decent hour) or fall right back into dreamland with the still sleeping skeleton in your arms.

Whatever you choose, if they're not to fight each other, you know someone will try to convince you to change your mind.

[dontcare77ghj]

Bedside Manner

Natasha x reader x Wanda x Pepper

Tony had renovated an entire floor of the Tower into a medical wing out of necessity. He'd employed an array of doctors to be on standby because he had to. Made sure there were enough medical treatments for enhanced and non-enhanced individuals alike.

Tony did all this because the Avengers were a bunch of clumsy fools. 

Those were Tony's words whenever someone asked him to describe the team. 

Natasha would usually cut in and add that he was apart of that statement, which would generally cause a small argument between the two.

You and Pepper would fondly roll your eyes at the two before Pepper would change the topic.

If you wanted to be honest, the four of you spent too much time in the medical wing for your liking.

For Natasha and Wanda, it was an occupational hazard. The two were Avengers. They defended the Earth against aliens, and assholes too injuries were a part of the job.

You had also been put into the medical wing a handful of times. Not because you were an Avenger, no, you were a civilian, but because you were just a klutz in general. Something your partners found very endearing to your embarrassment. 

Pepper was the only one in your relationship that didn't find herself in a hospital bed every other weekend. The woman could be hopping a marathon in ten-inch heels and not so much as falter.

Waking up in the medical wing, in a bed or by someone's bedside, became a regular occurrence in your relationship, much to Pepper's horror. 

"Knock, knock." You rapped on Pepper's door. "I had an appointment with my favorite CEO." You smirked, leaning in the doorway.

"Sweetheart, I didn't know you were coming." Pepper smiled, looking up from her work.

"I wanted to surprise you." You said, entering and closing the door behind you. "I also come bearing gifts." You added, holding up a greasy paper bag.

"Do I smell fries?" Pepper asked, taking it out of your hands. "Oh, have I ever told you how much I love you?" Pepper groaned before kissing your cheek.

"Once or twice." You smirked, taking a seat across from her. "I thought I should feed you before you waste away."

"Good call." Pepper nodded. "I might have to work through dinner, thought I was going to have to skip lunch too." She said, munching on the given fries.

You sat with Pepper talking about your days as she ate and continued filling out paperwork.

"Miss Potts, Miss L/N, Dr. Banner has asked me to alert you that Miss Maximoff has been admitted to the infirmary floor."

"Ow!" Wanda whined, pulling her wrist into her chest.

"Yep. That's a sprained wrist, alright." Bruce said, moving to pick up a roll of bandages. "A pretty nasty sprain too."

After FRIDAY alerted you to your needed presence, you and Pepper had raced up to the infirmary to see Natasha waiting by Wanda's bedside.

"How did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper sighed. "Nat left you alone for ten minutes.

"A lot of things can happen in ten minutes." Wanda protested. 

"Not wrong," Natasha smirked, squeezing your thigh. 

"Nat!" You gasped, pushing her hand off your thigh. "Jesus!" You exclaimed, cheeks turning red as Natasha cackled.

"Can the two of you behave for five minutes?" Pepper sighed. "We're in the infirmary, and Bruce is right there."

"I didn't even do anything." You protested.

"Wanda, how did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper asked again. 

"I was practicing using my powers," Wanda mumbled as Bruce wrapped her wrist. "I lost concentration, and a bookend hit my wrist." She admitted. "Please don't laugh."

"No-one's laughing." You assured her. "Sometimes, things just happen, and you get hurt."

"Y/N would know that the best," Natasha commented, receiving Pepper's elbow to the ribs. "Ow."

"Everyone has clumsy moments." You said. "It doesn't mean we're going to think any less of you if you accidentally injure yourself."

"Like the time Y/N walked into a door," Natasha smirked.

"Okay, you know what, Romanoff?"

"Relax, we still love you despite how clumsy you are," Natasha said, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "Trust me, Wand, it doesn't matter how clumsy you are, you'll never be worse than Y/N."

"How badly is she hurt?" Pepper asked as she rushed into the waiting bay.

"We don't know yet. Cho is still checking her over." You said as you and Wanda stood.

"What happened? Are the two of you okay?" Pepper questioned, pulling the two of you into embraces.

"We're fine," Wanda assured her. "Nat pushed Steve out of the way and got hit. We had to force him to go to the debrief instead of waiting with us."

"God. I hate the three of you. You're going to make me go grey before I hit my prime." She sighed, sinking in a chair.

"You love us." You reminded her, taking a seat beside her.

"I do. I won't deny that." Pepper said, taking one of yours and Wanda's hands and squeezing them tightly. 

A door snapped open, causing the three of you to turn quickly. Cho came out, standing in the doorway as you all jumped to your feet.

"How is she?" Wanda asked outright.

"Natasha's okay. She has some bruised ribs and, judging from the bump on her head, we're assuming a concussion as well, but we think she'll be just fine." Cho told you, holding the door open.

"Assume?" You asked. "What do you mean, you assume she has a concussion?" 

"Natasha hasn't woken up yet." Cho sighed, leading the three of you to Natasha's bedside. 

Natasha was plugged into several IV's and to a heart rate monitor. She looked so peaceful resting in the white bed, but it did nothing to quell your anxieties.

"But that doesn't mean anything bad." Cho quickly added as Pepper and Wanda sat beside the sleeping redhead. "All my scans indicate there to be no brain trauma or any similar issues. The worst injury is a possible concussion. I'll give the three of you some space." She said before leaving.

"I'm gonna kill her if she ever does anything like that again." You sighed, sitting beside Wanda.

"Get in line," Pepper said, pulling out her phone. "I'm ordering her favorite chocolates."

"The Russian or German ones?" Wanda asked.

"Would it be overdoing it if I got both?"

"Get both. You get hungry after a concussion, trust me." You said.

"Fair point." Pepper nodded. 

"I'll order us some dinner," Wanda said, pulling out her own phone. "We could be waiting for a while." 

Natasha woke up two hours later. Her concussion was apparent from the second she woke up, but she did appreciate the company and the chocolates.

You hated days like today. All three of your partners were out and busy while you were at home with nothing to do.

Natasha and Wanda had left at the crack of dawn, so you hadn't seen them since the night before, and Pepper had left at seven before breakfast.

It was only noon, and the day was dragging, so you decided to busy yourself with tedious household chores.

Laundry was next up on your list. The four of you usually sent all your clothing out for laundering, but you needed something to do.

You had just overloaded a tall basket and were making your way down the stairs when it happened. A shirt fell out from the basket at the wrong time, and you stepped on it.

The basket flew from your hands as you slipped down the long flight of stairs. You were out before you hit the bottom of the staircase.

Non-reader POV

"One of us needs to inform Steve the war ended. He doesn't need to be drill Sargent anymore." Wanda muttered, drying off her hair.

"I get where he's coming from, we do need to be a team, but I agree with you," Natasha said, packing up her duffle.

Steve had demanded everyone arrive at the compound at dawn for training exercises. He'd spent the next seven hours forcing everyone into team, partner, and solo training simulations until everyone was feeling the hurt.

"I can't wait to go back to bed." Wanda sighed. "Maybe we can coerce Y/N to join us." 

"That does sound nice." Natasha smiled. Natasha was pulling her hair into a ponytail when her phone rang shrilly. "Go for Romanoff."

"Agent Romanoff." Cho greeted. "I'm required to inform you that Y/N is in an infirmary bed. Again."

"What happened?" Natasha asked, gaining Wanda's attention.

"Y/N had a fall and has broken her leg," Cho informed Natasha. "It's a minor fracture, the bone didn't pierce the skin, but she will be in a cast for at least six weeks. And I'd like to keep her here overnight."

"Have you called Pepper yet?"

"No, I haven't been able to reach Miss Potts. My call went to voicemail."

"Wanda and I will be right there," Natasha said before hanging up. "Y/N broke her leg. Call Pepper let her know it's a code pink."

Reader POV

"Hi there, got yourself into a bit of a mess have we, sweetheart?" Wanda asked as she entered with Natasha on her heels.

"Please save the mocking until my next dose of pain blockers." You begged, leaning against your pillow.

"No-one is going to mock you," Wanda said as she and Natasha took seats beside you.  

"Yet. No-one is going to mock you yet." Natasha smirked. "Because if it were anyone else, this is kinda funny."

"I hate this." You groaned. "Cho said I can't even go home tonight. Last time I ever try to do the laundry."

"It was a sweet thought, dorogoy," Natasha said, taking your hand. "But from now on, let's just send laundry out."

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to kill one of you these days," Pepper said as she rushed in. "Are you okay?" She asked, pulling you into a hug.

"I'm fine, Pep. A little bruised, a little broken, but I'm fine." You assured her.

"We can all see your leg, Y/N," Wanda said, tapping on the cast. "Cho says you're gonna be in it for six-eight weeks."

"Which means bed rest," Natasha told you.

"Lots and lots of bed rest." Pepper agreed.

"When she wakes up, she'll need to be on bed rest for at least a week," Cho explained, leading you, Natasha and Wanda forward. "That means no strenuous activity in the slightest. I don't even want her reaching for her tablet."

"No work. Got it." Wanda nodded.

"She can try walking a few steps every day to avoid pneumonia. No baths for two weeks, showers are okay, but she has to pat the area dry.  Now, full recovery after a surgery like this is about four weeks, but Pepper's a fighter, so it could be three."

"Is there anything else we should know?" You asked as you all entered Pepper's room.

"I think I've covered all the bases. When Pepper wakes up, make sure she drinks some water, and then FRIDAY will call me down to check her over." Cho told you before leaving you all alone with Pepper.

"God, she talks about us giving her grey hairs, I think I just lost a decade off my life span." Natasha sighed, collapsing heavily onto a chair.

"I'm waiting for my heart attack to kick in." You agreed, sitting on the arm of Natasha's chair.

Earlier that day, Pepper's appendix had burst. The four of you had been having breakfast when it exploded, and Pepper collapsed to the ground in pain.

Natasha had called Bruce and Cho while you and Wanda set about trying to help Pepper. Before you could actually process what was happening around you, Pepper had been whisked away to the med bay, and the three of you were in the waiting bay.

"She's going to feel like shit when she wakes up," Wanda commented, putting another pillow behind the woman's head.

"That is an understatement." Natasha snorted. "Thank God Cho's got her hooked up to the good stuff."

You, Wanda, and Natasha sat in Pepper's room, quietly talking, for three hours before Pepper began waking up.

"Hi, hon." You smiled, taking one of her hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, turning her head towards you. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being in the medical bay?”

“Don’t think you have, sweetheart.” Wanda smiled.

“Well I hate it.” Pepper said firmly. “No more, we’re all banned from being in here from now on.”

“You’re really out of it, aren’t you, kisa?” Natasha asked, pushing hair off her face.

“I love you though. I love all of you.” Pepper added, as though she hadn’t heard Natasha. “Even if you all give me grey hairs.”

“We love you too, Pep.” You told her, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Despite you just giving us a heart attack.”

The four of you spent more time in the med bay than any of you wanted, it was almost a second home, but there was one good thing that came out of your time in the infirmary. The four of you all got to work on your bedside manner.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @alissaginger @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

All women

@imnotasuperhero​

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Another Life

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

I’ve decided to take this story to properly introduce Switch!Jack to the AU. Because I think I’ve come up with a great way for him to fit in and I’m really excited to see more of him :D And most of the others are, too. Except for Anti. Seems like his trust issues are acting up. Those two just need to get to know each other, it’ll be fiiiiiine. Anyway, hope you guys like this story, and like Switch!Jack as much as I do ^-^

More of this AU found here

It was noon on a Friday, and Anti was getting off a bus. He watched as it pulled away from the stop, then sighed. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do this. But the others did, and so here he was, reluctantly going along with their plan to get to know this new guy: Jack, Sam’s friend.

He never understood why the others—JJ and Jackie especially—were always so eager to add new people to this group. Especially people they barely knew, like Jack. Really, what had he done so far? He’d showed up at the park and got Anti home after that incident at the Aspen Street house. Then told the others that he was fine. And...that was it. But because he was connected to Sam, and they knew that strange little eyeball to be friendly, they thought it was a good idea to get to know the guy. Anti just didn’t see the point. They didn’t know anything about him! What if this was some sort of trick?

Sighing, Anti started walking, heading towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. At the very least, he could use this as a way to figure out what was going on with Sam. See if they could learn what Sam was, and things like that.

They’d invited Jack to The Waffle Cone, one of their usual places, thinking the casual, familiar setting would be a nice getting-to-know-you environment. But instead of their usual spot at a table near the window, they’d instead taken one of the booths near the back, in a slight alcove with no windows nearby. So that Sam could fly around the semi-hidden area without being seen by passerbys. Though Anti couldn’t help but notice when he walked in that Jack, and therefore Sam, were nowhere to be seen. Why was that? A harmless reason, or something else? He sighed as he walked towards the back to join the others.

“Hey Anti!” Jackie stood up, reaching out but pausing before actually making contact.

“Hey.” Anti patted Jackie on the back. It was a casual contact day. “Wow, so Highlighter Hair is even later than I am?”

“Highlighter Hair? C’mon, Anti,” Jackie sighed.

“Well he’s right, his hair is really bright,” Marvin pointed out from where he was sitting near the wall. “Why woul’ anyone want t’at? Doesn’ it just draw attention?”

“Some people want that,” Schneep muttered. He was sitting opposite Marvin, but when Anti showed up he stood and walked out of the booth, letting Anti have the seat by the wall.

“Yeah, the question is why,” Anti said, sitting down. “Like, if you have a magic eyeball companion, you’d want to blend in, right?”

After a bit of musical chairs they ended up with Anti by the wall, Schneep next to him, then Jackie on the end. On the other bench were Marvin and JJ. Maybe it’s for work? Jameson suggested, signing slowly.

“For a job? Is that what you said?” Anti asked. JJ nodded, and at that, Anti considered the idea. “Well, what does he do that needs neon-colored hair?”

JJ reached into his pocket. After a bit of rummaging, he took out his wallet, and put the card Jack had given him into the middle of the table. Everyone leaned close to look. “Oh, so he’s a musician,” Jackie said.

“A musician with a weird floating eyeball companion who can talk with him telepathically,” Anti stressed.

“You know, considering you are the only other person here with dyed hair, you really should not be judging people on their appearance,” Schneep commented.

“I—that’s not the point!” Anti protested. “He’s got to be something more!”

“Well we can ask him, because he’s showin’ up,” Marvin said, gesturing towards the front entrance. At that very moment, Jack was walking in, hands in his pockets and highlighter-bright hair practically glowing in the sunlight, and looking around. Jackie stood up and waved to draw his attention. Jack smiled and waved back, then headed over.

“Hi everyone. Sorry I’m late,” he said, sliding into the empty spot next to JJ. “I got lost. This place is pretty far from the tourist-y parts of the city I’ve been in so far.”

“Oh my god!” Schneep threw his hands up in the air. “Why is everyone Irish?!”

Anti and Marvin burst into laughter. “Hey, I’m not Irish,” Jackie pointed out.

“Your mom is, it is the same thing if you are half,” Schneep rebutted.

JJ picked his pencil and notebook up from the table and wrote, I’m definitely not Irish. 100% British.

“Oh, god, Jems, that’s even worse,” Marvin snickered.

JJ gasped exaggeratedly, then nudged Marvin’s arms, making him laugh more.

Jack was chuckling as well. “Yeah, I was just thinking to myself that this city has a lot of Irish people in it. Even the name sounds more Irish than British, right? ‘Mirygale.’ I’ve been all over, and that’s not very English if you ask me. Wonder why that is.”

Jackie shrugged. “I guess maybe there’s always been a bunch of Irish people in the area. I bet if you looked up city history there’d be something interesting there.”

“You sound like a primary school teacher assigning a topic to a kid’s first essay,” Anti muttered. “Is Sam here?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jack took off his backpack and unzipped it. The moment it was open enough Sam flew out. They looked around, taking in the setting, then floated back down to the table, scooting closer to Jack, who patted them, smiling. “We always go everywhere together. Which is why I was so worried when they decided to come here on their own and didn’t tell me.”

Schneep hummed. “They did that without telling you? Is that not a bit rude?”

“We’ve already talked it over by ourselves,” Jack said. “So if you’re trying to get them to apologize, they already did.”

“Okay, Jack. Mr. McLoughlin.” Anti leaned across the table, getting as close to Jack as he could without Schneep shoving him back. “Time to talk about this. Where the fuck do you get a floating eyeball? Where did they come from? Why can you talk to them but nobody else can? Also what the fuck are they? None of us have ever heard of a floating green eye. What are you?”

“Anti,” Jackie said, putting a hand on his arm. “Can you back off a bit? We just met the guy.”

Jack was unphased by Anti’s hostile tone and blatant mistrust. He just adjusted his glasses and said, “Yeah, Sam’s told me all about you guys. You’re all magic or something, right?”

“Well, technic’lly Jems is the only magician,” Marvin pointed out. JJ nodded, then pulled his usual parlor trick of tiny blue fireworks.

“Whoa.” Jack whistled. “I’ve never really talked to a real magician before.”

JJ tilted his head. So...you know there are real magicians?

“Sort of, yeah. Sam and I have met some, but it was always a lot of questioning and exchanging information, you know, kinda like what Anti’s trying to do.” Anti jumped at being called out like that, and Jack laughed a bit. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. But if we’re at a restaurant, can we at least order food first? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, of course. Hang on.” Jackie handed Jack his menu. “Here, let’s all find something then I’ll go up and order.”

A while later everyone had their food, eating and chatting about nothing. Except for Anti. He just kept staring at Jack, eyes narrowed, listening to everyone else talk about movies and video games and books. Sam was curled up around the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table, constantly turning around to follow the thread of conversation. “So does Sam need to eat?” Anti asked the second there was a lull in the conversation. “Because they never did when they were staying with me.”

Jack shook his head, taking a moment to swallow the bite of his sandwich he’d just taken. “No, but they get really upset when I don’t. We like, share energy. Mostly. They just kinda get hangry.”

You share energy and you can hear their thoughts? So you ARE connected somehow, JJ quickly wrote.

“Guys, we really shouldn’t be asking questions Jack doesn’t want to answer right now,” Jackie pointed out.

“No no no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Jack reassured him. “I’m not actually upset about it. I just thought we’d get to know each other a little first. Sam’s told me a lot about you guys, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Sorry, JJ signed. Then realizing Jack probably didn’t know what he said, he wrote Sorry out on the paper instead.

“Really, it’s alright.”

“Jackie, it is fine,” Schneep said. “We are all curious, Jack is fine with it, really there is no problem.”

“Wait, t’ere was a problem?” Marvin asked, confused.

“No, no problem!” Jack repeated. “Man, there is no train of thought with you guys. Or there is, it’s just all winding around and no one is driving.”

“Thanks, it’s the ADD in two of us combined with the bad social skills of the others,” Jackie said.

“Wh—well, we know, but hey,” Schneep said, mock-offended.

“Anyway, back to the question,” Anti said, rubbing the side of his head where an ache was starting to develop. “You and Sam are connected?”

“Uh-huh.” Jack nodded. Sam wiggled their way out from between the salt and pepper and hopped over to Jack’s shoulder. “Of course we are, they’re my eye.”

There was a moment of silence as the others all collectively processed that statement. “Wait, y’mean...literally?” Marvin finally asked.

“Yep. Here, I’ll tell you the story.” Jack leaned back, tapping the table with his fingers. “I was about...nine or ten, and one day, my right eye just started really aching. My family took me to the doctor, but they couldn’t find anything wrong, so they just gave me some bandages to cover my eye and told me to keep it closed. Don’t remember why. But a couple days later, I woke up in the middle of the night and the whole right side of my head hurt. So I got out of bed, went over to the mirror on my desk, and took off the bandages to see if something looked wrong. The minute I did, plop! My eye fell out.”

“Oh my god!” Jackie gasped.

“You can bet that freaked me the fuck out,” Jack continued. “And then I looked down, and it was green, and glowing. And then it started to move, and it looked at me. And that was Sam.” 

And you didn’t TELL anyone?! JJ asked, aghast.

“Jamie, please, what was he supposed to do?” Schneep asked. “He probably thought he would get in trouble with his parents.”

“Actually I thought that if I told anyone the government would come take me away,” Jack corrected. “So, uh. Yeah. Same idea, I guess. Same result. Sam stayed a secret, and over time they started getting bigger and able to fly, and now here they are.” Sam bounced, then nuzzled Jack’s neck.

“What about your eye now?” Marvin asked.

“That’s even weirder. I went back to bed, and in the morning, my eye was back in place. But Sam was still around. Of course, I was ten, so that made perfect sense to me at the time, but freaky as fuck looking back on it.”

“So it’s not fake?” Anti asked skeptically.

“Nope.” Jack tapped his cheek below his right eye. “Can see out of it and everything. I do kinda wish it looked a bit cooler, though. Like your thing, with the different colors? That would be cool.”

Anti didn’t say anything, not taking Jack’s clear peace offering.

I’ve never heard of something like this happening, JJ wrote. And neither has anyone I’ve spoken to. Have you, Jack?

Jack shook his head. “As far as I know, Sam and I are one-of-a-kind.”

“That is fascinating,” Schneep muttered. “I wonder why that happened? There was nothing that could have caused Sam?”

“Not that I remember,” Jack shrugged. “I’m just a guy, really. A guy with a living eyeball that has their own personality.”

“That’s not something that happens to ‘just a guy,’” Anti insisted. “And what do you do with this one-of-a-kind opportunity? You can’t tell me that you do regular shit when your life is like this.”

“Anti, I—” Jackie sighed. “Anti, can I talk to you? Somewhere private?”

“We’re in a restaurant, Jackie.”

“Then let’s go to the bathroom. C’mon.” Jackie stood up. Sighing, Anti started to get out of the booth, waited a moment for Schneep to let him out, then followed Jackie into the men’s bathroom.

“Well, we’re here,” Anti said, checking to make sure that nobody else was in the stalls. “And we’re alone. What’s wrong?”

“Look, Anti, I know you don’t like meeting new people,” Jackie said. “But you’re being...well...more dickish to Jack than usual. What’s the deal? Did you not like Sam or something?”

“No, I like Sam,” Anti said shortly. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let them stay with me. Would’ve given them to one of you guys.”

“Okay, well, Sam and Jack are clearly a package deal, so what’s up?” Jackie folded his arms. “Because honestly? You’re being ridiculous. No, you’re being actively hostile. You weren’t like this with Marvin and JJ, you know. You weren’t like this with Stacy. What is it about Jack that’s causing this?”

Anti shifted on his feet, not looking at Jackie. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade, flipping it open and closed a couple times.

“If you want to leave, you can leave,” Jackie continued. “You don’t have to stick it out. If you’re staying because you want to know more about Sam, then we’ll tell you later. But...I just want to know. Are you just having a bad day and taking it out on him? Because right now it looks like you’re actively trying to make him uncomfortable—”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Anti blurted out.

Jackie blinked, then put his hands on his hips. “Anti.”

“Don’t use your Dad Voice on me, it’s not like—I could’ve said that better.” Anti took a deep breath, switching his knife to his other hand, where he continued to flip it open and closed. “It’s—he’s too nice. It’s...weird. Like—okay, you mentioned when we met Jackson and Marvin for the first time. You know how they reacted to my asshole comments? Marvin called me out on it, and Jackson...well, Jameson’s a really nice guy, but he at least looked surprised when I said something like that. You know, uh...what’s the phrase? Caught off guard. Taken aback. But Jack is just...nice. It’s freaky.”

“Maybe Sam just told him what to expect,” Jackie suggested.

“There’s a fuckton of difference between hearing something and experiencing something,” Anti pointed out. “I keep pushing him to get a normal reaction, and by now he should’ve blinked a couple times, o-or given me a weird glance, but he hasn’t, and it’s freaky. It’s—” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Is he trying to get me to like him? Why? Nobody’s that nice without wanting something from you.”

Jackie paused. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Well I mean...I’d say that I was ‘that nice’ to you when I kept showing up at your room in the hospital despite you actively telling me to fuck off.”

“I—that was different,” Anti insisted. “You’re a doctor, it makes sense for you to check on a patient.”

“I don’t think it was that different. I mean, I didn’t have to keep showing up, but I did.” Jackie walked up to Anti’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. He tensed a bit, but when Jackie started to withdraw, he reached up and put his hand on top of his. “And Anti, I never wanted anything from you. I still don’t.”

Anti took another deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. “I—it’s just—I can’t—” He gave up, frustrated that he couldn’t put it into words.

“Do you want to leave?” Jackie asked.

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Are you good with Jack?”

“I won’t be as dickish,” Anti said carefully. “I’ll maintain my usual level of dickishness.”

Jackie laughed. “That’s fine. You ready to go back?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mon then.” Jackie smiled, and led Anti back to join the others.

———————

“Daaaad! Someone’s at the door!”

Anti turned around at the sound of Will’s voice. “I’ll be right there!” he called, quickly pausing the game he was playing and all the recording software. Who could that be? He checked his phone real quick, but didn’t see any messages from the others saying they were coming over. Then again, last time someone dropped by unexpectedly it was Marvin, mind-controlled by Distorter. He should probably answer. So he stood up and left his recording room.

Will was sitting at the kitchenette counter, swinging his legs while he munched on a bowl of grapes from the fridge. His plushie rabbit Brian was sitting on the stool next to him. The doorbell rang, and he helpfully pointed at it. “I got it, bud, don’t worry,” Anti said as he passed him.

He opened the door. And immediately wished he’d thought to look through the peephole first. Jack was standing outside, looking pretty much the same as he had a couple days ago when they met him for lunch. “Hi,” he waved. “Sorry for dropping in all of a sudden, but—”

“How’d you get this address?” Anti interrupted.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You gave it to me. I walked you here the first time we met. In the park, remember? I mean, I didn’t walk up here, but I asked a couple of your neighbors and—”

Anti groaned. “Those stupid—it’s my address, don’t give it away—what if someone wanted to kill me or something, dumbest move ever...” His complaints faded into angry muttering.

“They probably didn’t mean anything by it,” Jack said. “Anyway, I was—”

“Dad, who is it?” Will got off his stool, grabbing Brian as he did, and walked over to the door.

“Oh, uhhhhh...” Anti looked down at Will, now standing next to him, then back up at Jack. “This is...Jack. He’s...a new...friend.”

“You don’t make friends, Dad,” Will said.

“Well, friends make me, so it’s the same thing, really.”

Jack looked a bit shocked at first, but he quickly got over it. “Oh, so you’re Anti’s son? I should’ve known. Sam did say he had one. What’s your name?”

“I’m Will,” Will said, waving. “Do you want to come inside?”

“If your dad’ll let me.”

“I—” Anti sighed. “Yeah, step inside.”

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t walk too far into the apartment, hovering near the doorway as he looked around. “So this is your place?” For a moment, Sam peeked out from a gap in the zipper of his backpack, then they disappeared again. And Jack nodded, as if responding to someone. “Yeah, I see.”

“Sooo...why are you here?” Anti asked, closing the door.

“Oh, I wanted to see if you wanted to go somewhere,” Jack explained.

Anti fought the urge to glare at him suspiciously. “Why?”

Jack shrugged. “I just kinda felt like we got off on the wrong foot. Sam’s told me a lot about you, but I want to get to know you myself.”

Anti paused. “Is this a date? Because I don’t do romance, or...” He glanced at Will. “...the other stuff, either.”

“No, no no,” Jack hurried to say. “That’s cool, but I’m not into guys.” 

“Oh good, we needed a token straight in the group.” Jack looked a bit surprised at that, and Anti just had to laugh. “Yeah, bet you weren’t expecting that.”

Jack laughed a little, too. “I mean, no. Goes to show how open-minded I should be. Anyway, not a date. Just sort of a friendly, let’s-talk-to-each-other thing.”

“Right.” That didn’t sound any more appealing. “Look, I was actually in the middle of work—”

“You should take a break, Dad,” Will interrupted. “You’ve been at the computer all day, and Mrs. Benson says you should limit your screen time.”

“I...well, she’s right,” Anti said carefully. “But this is for work.”

“You pause things all the time,” Will insisted. “Go have fun.”

Anti huffed. “I thought I was the parent here.” There was a bit of a smile on his face, though. “But speaking of that, I can’t just leave you on your own. And I can’t find a babysitter at the last minute like this.”

“I’m almost ten, Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“I...Will, honestly?” Anti bent over and whispered loudly. “It’s more for me than anything. I’d be worried, especially with what just happened.”

“Hmm.” Will’s face scrunched up as he thought up a solution to this problem. “Oh! You two can take me to Michelle’s house, first. There’s a bus stop close by!”

“I—Michelle’s ren might be busy, Will.”

“Then you should text them first.”

Jack smiled to himself. “Sounds like the kid’s got all the possible problems covered.”

Anti didn’t hold back on glaring at him this time. But, unfortunately, he was right. At this point, he couldn’t think of any more excuses to give to placate Will and his insistence that his dad have friends. “I wish you weren’t so smart sometimes, kid,” he muttered, straightening. “Alright, Highlighter Hair. Give me a minute to get everything ready then I guess I’ll go—where are we going?”

Jack paused. “Uhhh...well honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You know what? I’m not that familiar with the city, anyway, where do you want to go?”

Oh. Anti hadn’t been expecting that. He blinked, considering the options. They’d just gone out for food, so he didn’t want to do that. A movie might be good, it would keep conversation from happening, but it also meant at least two hours out with Jack, and nothing good was playing, anyway. “We can just walk around,” he finally decided. “That’s fine.”

“Alright. Hey, you can show me some of the local sights!”

“Yeah. Sure. Now sit down while I wrap all my work stuff up.” Anti pointed at the sofa, and Jack quickly sat down, waiting patiently. He gave him one last look, then disappeared back into the recording room to shut everything down.

While in there, his eyes landed on the glass shelf where he kept his knife collection. After a moment’s hesitation, he unlocked the case and grabbed one, entirely black with a four-inch drop point blade. It came with a matching black sheathe, and he slipped the blade inside it, quickly grabbing his jacket with the largest pockets and putting the whole thing in the left pocket. Just in case. Of what, he wasn’t sure. But just in case.

——————— 

After taking the bus to Rama and Michelle’s house and dropping off Will, they ended up going to the shops. Not the more popular shopping district of the city, but the area on the west side that had a bunch of small shops in rows. Bookstores and art-and-crafts places, mostly, but there were also music shops, a video rental place, and a survival-type store that sold equipment like climbing ropes and sleeping bags. Jack seemed interested, and asked questions about what the shops were like, if Anti liked them. But eventually, the conversation topic turned to more personal matters.

“So, uh, Anti,” Jack said slowly, zipping up his jacket as a gust of wind made the chilly day even colder. “What do you like to do?”

Anti shrugged. “Hang out with the others. Do stuff with Will. Play video games. Normal shit.”

“Really? What’s your favorite game?”

“I like horror.”

“Oh I’ve played some horror before. Like what?”

Anti sighed. Jack’s questions were persistent. “There’s this game that came out like a year and a half ago that I like. It’s called Doki Doki Literature Club.”

Jack laughed a bit. “That’s a horror game?”

“Don’t fucking judge it by the title, okay?” Anti snapped. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I played it on request, and got gut-punched by what happens in the story.”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying anything!” Jack raised his hands.

“You laughed.”

“Well you got to admit, it sounds a bit out there. But I guess it’s one of those ‘subvert your expectations’ types.”

“Exactly.” Anti nodded. And to change the subject, he asked, “What’s your favorite game, then?”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Have you ever heard of Shadow of the Colossus?”

“No.”

“Oh, dude. It’s so cool! It’s on the PlayStation, and you play as this guy called Wander trying to defeat these creatures called the Colossuses—Colossi? I can never remember. Anyway, you have to find each one and then...”

Anti let Jack ramble on for a while, occasionally nodding or asking a question to get him to keep going. The streets were pretty empty; it was late November and chilly, nobody wanted to be out walking. But there were quite a few cars driving past. Though after a while they turned onto a dead end, the street ending in a square paved with red bricks and lined with a few benches, a couple concrete planters holding thin, leafless trees. Jack headed over to one of the benches and sat down. Anti followed, and after a moment, sat down on the opposite end, leaving about two feet of space in between them.

“So did you never have a PlayStation or something?” Jack finally asked. “Oh, PlayStation 2, I should say. Cause lord knows there are a million of them now.”

“There’s just four,” Anti said, rolling his eyes. “And no. No Xbox, either, before you ask. Or SNES.”

“Man. That must’ve sucked. Were they not big on video games in—uh, where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

Jack let out a huff of laughter. “Well no shit, I mean what county are you from?”

“Which one are you from?”

“Offaly.”

“Oh, of fucking course you are,” Anti muttered. “I should’ve guessed you were a middle-of-nowhere type by your accent.”

“Hey, yours doesn’t sound that much different!” Jack said defensively. “I bet you’re also a middle-of-nowhere type. Where is it? Longford? Westmeath?”

Anti gave up. “The first one, actually.”

“Knew it!” Jack said triumphantly. Then he paused. His expression shifted as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, did you—this is a fucking wild question, and you don’t have to answer it, but...did you happen to know a Ciara McLoughlin?”

Anti suddenly stiffened. He’d been avoiding looking directly at Jack this whole time, but his head snapped over at him. “What was that name?”

“Ciara McLoughlin, middle name Lily, I think. It’s a bit out there, but—”

Before Jack could even finish that question, Anti lunged. He knocked both of them off the bench, and they landed on the ground with a single solid thump! as Anti pinned Jack. A faint green glow rolled out of the gap in Jack’s backpack zipper, but Anti didn’t care. He’d reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife he’d packed—still in its sheath, but a threatening display nonetheless. “Who fucking sent you?” he hissed.

“Wh-what?!” Jack was completely shocked, surprised by the reaction and a little scared of the covered blade Anti was poking into his chest.

“Who sent you!?” Anti repeated, snarling. “It was her, wasn’t it?! This is what you wanted, this is why you’ve been so weirdly fucking nice! How’d you find me?!”

“What are you talking about?!” The shock was fading into confusion, mixed with a healthy dose of nerves.

“You! You you you youuuu...youuuuu...” Anti shook his head. “You can’t fucking pretend anymore. How did you find me?! What does she want?! And why does she care now, of all times?!”

“Anti, please, calm down,” Jack pleaded, trying to keep his voice gentle. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about! I—what do you mean ‘she’? Do you mean Ciara?”

“Of course I do, who else would I mean?!” Anti demanded, pressing the sheathed blade a bit further. “And you need to stop being all confused like this, the jig is up, I knew it, I knew you weren’t just that friendly, it’s impossible, nobody’s like that, everyone needs something and I don’t know if it’s for your own sake or you’re doing this for her, but I know, I know now, I know why you’re like this, is it information? Is that what you want? Or are you going to try to convince me to go back? Either way, fuck you, you’re not getting either of those.”

Jack just gaped at Anti as he ranted, not moving. Then, out of nowhere, a bright green light flew up towards Anti’s eyes. Gasping, he leaned back, not dropping the knife but pulling it away from Jack long enough for him to sit up and scramble back. Sam bumped against Anti’s forehead, slapping his face with their nerve-tail as if to say ‘get a hold of yourself!’

“Fucking hell, dude,” Jack said, a bit out of breath. He ran his hand over the spot where the knife had been poking him, but luckily he just found a little imprint, no blood. “Sorry I brought it up.”

Anti pushed Sam away from his face and gave Jack a closer look. “You...really don’t know what...what I’m talking about?” he asked haltingly.

“No!” Jack shook his head furiously. “But I can figure it out! You clearly did know Ciara, and you clearly have some sort of issue with her. Did she do something to you?”

Anti didn’t answer. He looked down at the knife in his hand—oh god, if he hadn’t brought the sheath, he’d have—his hand opened and let the knife clatter to the bricked ground as he covered his eyes with his hands. His pulse was racing, loud enough for him to feel in his neck. God damn it. He had to get himself under control. Just...breathe. Take a moment to just focus on breathing.

“Sorry,” Jack repeated, softer this time. “I-I didn’t know it would...be like that.”

“Course you didn’t,” Anti muttered, lowering his hands and looking around. It  was lucky nobody had seen that.

“No, really, I-I didn’t,” Jack insisted. “I...When you said you were from Longford, I remembered that she lived there, so I wondered if you knew about her.”

“How do you know her?” Anti rebutted.

“She was my aunt,” Jack explained, taking off his glasses to make sure they weren’t damaged. “And I didn’t really know her, she never visited the family or anything. But. Yeah. My dad’s sister.”

“Oh.” Anti fell silent for a moment. He didn’t know that Ciara had a brother. A brother with kids. How was it possible that she’d never mentioned them?! That was a massive thing to never—in all that time—Anti groaned and rubbed his head. God, this hurt him, almost physically. If he’d known that—if he’d just—well, the past was dead. He’d killed it. So there was no use thinking about what might have been. But something sounded...off. In the way Jack talked about her. “What do you mean, she ‘was’ your aunt?”

“Well.” Jack hesitated for a moment, then said, quite bluntly, “She’s dead, actually.”

“...oh.” Anti waited for a reaction to rise up within him. Some sort of emotion, good or bad. But he felt...empty. Though maybe that made sense. “When?”

“When I was like...seventeen or something. Over ten years ago now. She got hit by a car.” Jack paused again, but Anti didn’t say anything more. So he stood up, slowly, and Sam flew around him. “I’m fine, Sam, don’t worry. No, nothing. Really.” Sam, worried, curled up in their usual spot on his shoulder.

“...Sorry,” Anti mumbled. “About the whole...thing. With the knife. I didn’t—I didn’t actually want to hurt you.”

Jack nodded. “Just don’t do it again.” He offered a hand, and after a moment, Anti took it, letting Jack pull him up. “Hey, uh...you’re probably not gonna answer this, but...are you okay with...telling me how you knew her?”

“No.” Anti shut down the notion immediately. He wasn’t about to share that whole mess with basically a stranger, when his close friends only knew the barest of details.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Jack took a step back, giving Anti some space. “Um...can I tell you something? I think you picked up on this, anyway, but...I’m not just a drummer. I do do that, but it’s to help pay expenses and stuff, you know?”

Anti’s shoulders raised. “What are you, a cop?”

“No! God no, I couldn’t do that,” Jack hurried to say. He took a deep breath, then continued. “There’s...not really a name for it, I think. But Sam and I travel around and...we help people. Not like a vigilante or anything, I hear you guys have one in this city? We don’t do stuff like that. I mean more...you know, mentally.”

“You’re a therapist?” Anti asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really.” Jack shook his head. “Though I guess I could be. I’d just need to go back to school and shit. I just...support people. Kinda encourage them. If any of this makes sense. Like, i-if you’re having a hard time and your house is messy, but you can’t find the energy to clean, I can do that for you. Or if you need to talk to someone to get something off your chest. Again, I’m not a therapist, but I can listen and give advice.”

Anti suddenly laughed. “You’re a life coach?! Oh my god, Highlighter Hair. You do not look the part.”

“That’s still not—” Jack sighed. “Okay, look. Sam’s been staying with you guys for a while, right? They have this ability, this...this feeling they get, sometimes, that they need to do something. What happens is they can sort of tell where we’re needed next, but a few weeks ago, they got this feeling, and they could tell they needed to go alone. So, they headed here. And...they found you guys. And they could tell something was immediately wrong. Your...your kids went missing, right?” Jack asked that last part slowly, cautiously.

“...yeah,” Anti muttered.

“Right. And you were all going through it.” Jack glanced down at Sam. “And if they’d told me where they were going, I could’ve been here to help with that, but apparently they suddenly needed to leave right then in the middle of the night.” Sam swished their tail. Somehow, they looked guilty.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Anti sighed. Actually, he probably understood more than Jack or Sam knew. He’d run into Sam the night of the kids’ disappearance, the night when he’d...had a breakdown. Just like he used to, years ago. And just like years ago, he might’ve continued on those random wanderings, out of his mind, if Sam hadn’t showed up and kept breaking up the routine. They’d probably saved him, in a way. Just like Jackie had, years ago, when he kept showing up in the hospital room of a nobody who didn’t care for him. “So...the real reason you guys are here is to fix us.”

“Don’t use that word,” Jack said firmly. “Nobody in your group is broken, you just need a little bit of help.”

Anti rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“I’m serious, I—” Jack sighed.

“Right. Just like you don’t want anything from us. How much are you offering for this?”

“I don’t charge for this,” Jack said. “We just...do it. Because some people need it.” He folded his arms. “Like you, Mr. I’ll-Threaten-You-With-A-Knife-For-Mentioning-This-Lady.”

“I said sorry,” Anti insisted.

“Are you sure you should be carrying knives around if that’s how you’ll react?”

“I—shut the fuck, up, I—I need to.” Anti realized his hands were shaking, so he folded his arms as well. “And usually, that doesn’t happen. I’ve just been—”

“A bit stressed lately?” Jack prompted.

Anti closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply for a long, long time. Then he let out his breath, equally slowly. “Does the rest of the group know about your life coaching?”

“It’s not life—I was going to explain it next time I saw them,” Jack said.

“Cool. Go see them now, there’s enough time left in the day for that. And if they still like you after that, then I guess you can hang around.” Of course they’d still like him after knowing that. It was the kind of people they were. Marvin and Schneep might be a bit upset that Jack didn’t tell them immediately, but they’d get over it. JJ would insist on including Jack in more group activities. Maybe Jackie would, too. Actually, he could see the two of them having a lot in common. Fitting that their names were almost the same, then.

Jack smiled widely. “Great! Glad to hear that.”

“Hear what? I’m telling you that my tolerance of your presence depends on what the others think.”

“Yeah, that’s great! I mean, c’mon, you haven’t exactly been welcoming. Or hiding the fact that you weren’t welcoming. So that’s a step up.”

Well he had a point there. Anti bent over and picked up his knife from where it had landed, slowly slipping it back into his pocket and buttoning it closed. He turned to leave. “Well, I’ll be going now. You can find a bus stop by yourself.”

“Sure,” Jack nodded. “I’ll be seeing you, then?”

Anti paused. Then he turned back. “And another thing. Don’t fucking analyze me without me saying. Believe it or not, I actually minored in psych, so I don’t have any fucking patience for armchair psychology from someone who probably only did a few searches on the Internet and is armed with just some sort of—of great attitude and a nosy want to help people.”

“I don’t do that stuff, Anti,” Jack reasserted. “But...don’t worry. If you don’t want help, I won’t offer. Unless it looks...bad.”

That sounded like it was as good a promise as he was going to get. Anti turned back around and started walking back down the street they’d come from. Jack called “Bye!” after him, and he raised a hand in response.

A few streets later, he found a bus stop for a line that he didn’t think Jack would take, and sat down to wait. And the moment he did, everything that just happened started bombarding his thoughts. Sam’s friend was some sort of...travelling...mental...helper. Who showed up here because he wanted to help the group with their problems. Sure. That made sense. And this guy was also her nephew. Who he didn’t know even existed, despite all the reasons he should have known. “God...fuck,” he muttered, looking up into the sky.

If Jack was going to be so present in their lives, how long would it take him to figure out...everything? Everything about Anti? The very thought raised a sense of panic in his chest.

No, Jack wouldn’t know. He’d make sure of it.

Well, Anti had to acknowledge one thing. Jackie was right; this new guy hadn’t wanted anything from them. He wanted to give something to them. That thing being some sort of help. That was...unexpected. In Anti’s experience, people didn’t offer aid for nothing in return. Or at least, they rarely did, as Jackie had reminded him the other day.

As the bus approached in the distance, Anti stood up, making sure the driver could see him. While getting on, he reflected that there was one thing he could count on: they’d be seeing a lot more of Jack in the future.

[greasygyeom]

Title: Blame it on Me [Part II: Where Do We Go From Here?]

By: GreasyGyeom

Summary: what is someone supposed to do when they have to choose between the love of their life and the career of their dreams.

Word Count: 9.2k

Yugyeom x Reader / Angst, smut (kinda)..more angst. (i use noona but just pretend it’s y/n)

Warnings: Mature content please read only if 18+

Author’s Note: i am back after two weeks this is a character development guys. hope you like part II !! if you do leave an ask or write in your tags. i love hearing from you guys! tell me if it made you feel something. if there’s spelling errors, let me know hahaha. love you guys and thank you for reading.

Read Part I here

Your night burnt by slowly, filled with explanations and fake acceptances of congratulations that everyone showered you with; that you had no interest in. The only reason you stayed awake was because you were hoping Yugyeom would actually come back. Little did you know he’d been so drunk BamBam had to let him pass out on the couch and keep a bucket right next to him; because if drinking had taught him anything, the amount Yugyeom had, he was bound to throw up. 

You, poetically so, had also passed out on the couch. It was hard to believe that in the afternoon you were in a relationship, getting fucked out of your mind and by night you were single, bawling in your living room.

Still, he had to come back at some point, it was his house after all. How was he going to go to work without his clothes? BamBam for sure wasn’t going to let him stretch out his T-shirts.

Hanging onto that hope, you prepared breakfast in the morning, which unfortunately sat out cold until noon, while you face timed your best friend and let out all your pent up emotions.

She advised you to not hang onto the hope of him wanting to be with you for a few days extra. It wasn’t fair to him, because everything said and done, you were leaving. If there was a way around it, you would have done everything within your control to get that promotion without the transfer. Unfortunately the path you were going to take had been set in stone by your company. There was no space for any alterations left.

You didn’t want this to happen but really, what else were you expecting. This was never going to have a happy ending from the start.

Last week you’d wanted him to act like a douchebag so you could be bitter and cop out of being hurt over having to break up with the best guy you’d ever known. 

You finally understood why ‘be careful what you wish for’ was such a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

After your long distance chat, begrudgingly you got dressed for the office; even though you didn’t have to really go officially—you were off until you started at London next Friday—there was some paperwork that needed your signature. You wanted to get it over with so as to spend the next few days peacefully crying in bed.

Half-heartedly walking to the train station, you wondered if you’d even crossed Yugyeom’s mind since yesterday.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you wanted to know if he was thinking about you; or was it just you that was miserable.

He was.

Of course he was.

While he chugged a bottle of water, because his mouth felt like sandpaper, all he could worry about was how you were going to pack all your belongings in such a short amount of time, without forgetting the most important stuff; and how he was going to not lose his sanity over it. 

Ominously so, life had come such a full circle for him; because had your colleague not been a student at the academy, he would have never met you.

The work-life that brought you to him, ultimately took you away too. 

Funny how the universe works, right?

He’d drank so much alcohol the previous night in hopes of forgetting you that even an hour without your face swimming in his head would have been worth it. Yet, all night all he lamented about was how unfair it was that he was going to have to let you go.

His friend circle–that over time had also become your friend circle–had been made aware of the whole ordeal, so they knew what to expect. They were just surprised by the magnanimity of it. 

Yugyeom had never been heartbroken—at least to this extent. In the 10+ years of knowing him, he’d never expressed so many emotions in such little time to any of his friends. It was like witnessing a compressed pack of cocaine burst under high pressure; messy and not a good look for anyone.

When he woke up he already had a text from Jaebeom very sternly asking him to not come in to work until he got his shit together, several texts from Mark asking how he was feeling and to start hydrating his body immediately, and a whole essay from Jackson on how he should drop his tough guy act and be with you till it was time to go. 

He hated being called out like that.

Yugyeom: Hyung you’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I should forget her immediately. His text elicited an immediate response. 

Jackson: Listen you brat. I’m your friend that’s why I’m asking you to spend the last few days she is here with her. Because I know you and you’re going to regret this later.

Yugyeom: Tell me, how does it matter if she’s out of my life today or after five days?

Jackson: You won’t even try to stay in touch?

Yugyeom: No.

Jackson: Is that a mutual decision?

Yugyeom stopped replying after that, because now that he was sober, he was back to not being able to aptly express his feelings and he actually didn’t know the answer to that question. 

He’d thought about this so much yesterday, while in bed next to you. There was no expiration date on your time in London, there wasn’t even any guarantee that after London you’d come back—you could get transferred to anywhere in the world. That particular uncertainty had torn his heart into smithereens and had led him to end the relationship so abruptly. 

It had seemed logical yesterday.

Today? not so much.

You’d zoned out staring at a travel bag while window shopping. After your work was done you thought of giving retail therapy a shot, an endeavour that was proving to be extremely unsuccessful, for the lack of focus you were carrying with you.

A loud, screeching, honking bus on the road snapped you back to reality, but not really. You were still dazed and confused and within seconds wanted to go back home, wondering why you thought this was a good idea in the first place. 

You did buy three pastries and a venti on your way though, to devour your feelings once home. To discover that you’d forgotten how you lived life before Yugyeom and not understand how to combat it, was definitely taking a toll on you. The concept of being without him seemed so outlandish, it felt like a distant dream you might have had in your childhood. For now, until you found a way out of this maze, unhealthy coping mechanisms would have to do.

Truth be told, you were itching to call him. When it came to him, your ego was barely existent.

You were still plenty mad and wanted him to realise how stupid he was for not taking you up on the offer last night, of course, but you also wanted hear his voice equally badly, at the cost of him being unwilling to entertain you.

You had been postponing your urge every hour, since morning, because this time around you were reluctant to lose this battle; even though you’d already lost the war.

At 9am it was ‘Wait for another hour, maybe he’ll turn up.’ At 10am it became ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the studio’– but that was too much effort (and you were in no mood to face Jaebeom). When you were leaving for work, you baited yourself by saying you’ll call him after you were done at the office and currently you were convincing yourself to wait till you reached back home, so that at least when he ignored your calls, you could cry into a cup of tiramisu and feel better about it.

That thought was more comforting than it needed to be.

This awkwardness of not being able to wiggle your way into his life this time, was eating you inside, honestly. It’s not that you’d never had disagreements and fights before, where he’d left for Bam’s because he was too frustrated to even talk to you—in spite of him indulging his anger to a bare minimum, there had been plenty of those. But this was the only one time where saying sorry and promising to buy him chocoshakes for a week wasn’t going to cut it.

Along your route home, you bought more food—a full loaf of strawberry bread from the train station, some chips and a sandwich at the convenience store, a slice from the pizzeria nearby and finally your favourite fried chicken. Clearly, you had a lot of feelings to chew through and some days of solitude to chew them.

You hadn’t anticipated the struggle to get your apartment door to open, with all those packets hanging on your arms, trying not to spill any of the contents. What you also didn't anticipate was Yugyeom opening the door from inside, asking you to hand over some of the things you were holding.

You felt your system shut down like windows 98 being attacked by a trojan.

Was this real? Was this a delusion and you'd really just dropped everything on the floor? 

“Yu….gyeom?” You called out, afraid of not actually hearing an answer.

“Why are you still standing outside, noona?”

“Oh-uhm-I….” you fumbled, before closing the door. “This.. is-uh?? Hmm-what-what are you… doing here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He replied curtly.

You furrowed your brows accompanying it with frown lines on your forehead, indicative of the confusion you were unable to convey verbally. 

However, you chose not to question him further, not wanting to go wherever that interrogation would have taken you. You were more than content to see him move around at close proximity, even if it was in silence. 

There were plenty of places he could have gone, really, he didn’t have to be there if he didn’t want to; but he did want to. Oh god he’d wanted to see you so badly. More so than the hangover, it was a bizarre feeling in his chest, from the way he’d behaved with you last night, that had caused him discomfort all morning. That and Jackson’s messages. 

Was he really not even going to try to keep in touch? But then….. who likes to stay in touch with an ex? 

“Want some cake?” you asked, in an effort to dissipate the elephant in the room. “Or some other food? Pizza? You look like shit, you should probably eat something greasy.”

“You went and bought the whole shop didn’t you?” he raised his eyebrow. 

“I… did not. I was….. craving a lot of things.”

“You know, the only times you’ve bought so much food is when you’re sad about us fighting over something.”

“Well—I am sad,” you paused, “and we are fighting ... and this one seems to be the last one.”

“For now” he added and then immediately retracted his statement 

“I’m...I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yugyeom... baby,”

When did you even get close enough to do that, he wondered, as you cupped his face.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know?”

He put his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tender hug, because if he looked into your eyes any deeper he would have either kissed you or teared up; and neither was a good option to choose from.

“Noona will you promise me something?” he then asked, his words heavy and morose.

“Hmm?”

“Please try your best to forget me.”

You weren’t expecting that sentence to knock the wind out of your lungs, because you weren’t expecting to hear that sentence at all.

You broke away from him, tears accumulating against your will. 

“Did you come here to hurt me, Yugyeom?”

It felt like a sword was now ominously hung above your head, when you looked at him; and it could fall at any moment and sever your head.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I just…. I don’t know. Don’t hold onto some irrational hope or something. That’s all I meant.”

“Irrational hope? Really, of what? Getting back together someday? You wanna get rid of me and move on so fast that you want me to forget you? Is that it?”

“Don’t twist my words. That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You think I don’t understand that this is the end for us?”

“Just ... leave it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah you shouldn’t have.”

“But I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back in London. That’s all.” He yielded, not wanting to make matters any worse.

“You know what…. I was wrong to think it would be a good idea to pretend like nothing’s changed until I get on the plane. You win.” 

The anger in your tone and your deadpan face made it very clear that you were not interested in holding a conversation about this, any further. “I’m gonna go start collecting my stuff. I should be out of your apartment and your life, by tomorrow evening.”

Before Yugyeom could react, you slammed the bedroom door shut and locked yourself inside.

One second later he was banging on the door frantically.

“Noona! Come on, open the door please.

Please, baby!”

He must have stood there trying to rotate the knob, begging you to let him inside, for at least fifteen minutes before giving up and sliding onto the floor.

This was turning out to be worse than his worst nightmare.

If he knew you at all, he knew you would want to come out to smoke soon. So he sat by the door, getting annoyed at himself for saying that and at you for taking it out of context.

Before coming here, he’d asked for Jinyoung’s opinion on whether this was a good idea or not; and Jinyoung had replied asking him to not do anything foolish. He had assumed Jinyoung meant going to his house to meet you was the foolish act. Dejectedly, he typed a text.

Yugyeom: Well…. I should have listened to you. I went to see her and you were right, it was a bad idea.

Jinyoung: when did I say that was a bad idea?

Yugyeom: you said not to do anything stupid

Jinyoung: yeah, I meant don’t go there and mess it up. I didn’t mean don’t go there at all. What did you do?

Yugyeom: oh…. nothing. 

Jinyoung: I can call her and ask.

Yugyeom: No! Fuck. please don’t do that. She’s already pissed at me.

Jinyoung: what did you do

Yugyeom: I asked her to move on

Jinyoung: huh?

Yugyeom: I don’t want her to get hung up on me and us and the maybes and what ifs when she's there. Because I know she will.

Jinyoung: and what about you? Are you going to try your best to forget her?

Yugyeom paused and stared at that question for a few minutes. No…. of course not, how could he want to forget you or anything about you. Even if every memory attached to you dug into his organs like shards of glass, he’d gladly take them all to his grave. 

Yugyeom: she doesn’t need to know if I do it or not.

Jinyoung: I’m glad God gave you the gift of dance because clearly intelligence and common sense are completely lost on you. 

Yugyeom: hyung i'm really not in the mood to be insulted right now.

Jinyoung: Jackson asked you to drop your tough guy act didn’t he? She doesn’t need you to protect her. She’s never needed anyone to protect her from anything. You should stop trying to save her from whatever it is that you think you’re saving her from.

Yugyeom: I’m not trying to do anything. I don’t want her to regret going to London.

Jinyoung: How is asking to forget you a solution to that? Say hypothetically she does forget you. In a years time she doesn’t give a fuck about what you meant to her. She meets someone else and starts dating, maybe even gets engaged. Would that make you happy?

Yugyeom: No. But she’ll be happy. 

Jinyoung: that’s your problem. You’re assuming that forgetting you and finding a new life would make her happy. 

Yugyeom: Well won’t it? Idk I just don’t want her to be hung up on us and if she gets stuck on it, I don’t think she will be. 

Jinyoung: You just said you don’t wanna move on so then why the fuck are you forcing it on her?

Yugyeom: hyung she doesn’t need to know how miserable I am. Without knowing that whenever she sees me she apologises to me. if she gets to know how much I want her to stay I’m scared she’ll turn down the promotion. She’s already thought about not going.

Jinyoung: let her make her own decisions? Right now you’re lying to her. I’m 95% sure she’s pissed because you’re trying to act unfazed by all of this.

Jinyoung: Just this one time, try to not bottle up how you’re feeling.

Jinyoung: tell her you have no interest in moving on. Be honest, man.

Jinyoung: and just saying, asking the ‘love of your life’, who calls you ‘the love of her life’, to forget you after 12 hours of breaking up is a shitty thing to do. She should have kicked you in the balls. 

He typed up a stingy reply to that but, before he could send it, the sound of you unbolting the door from inside distracted him. Hurriedly, he stood up, to catch hold of you. 

“Yugyeom, leave me alone. You got what you wanted?”, you spoke frostily.

“Are you going to smoke?”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.. But I wish you’d hear me out. Let me say my piece and if you’re still pissed, I’ll leave. I promise.”

After opening the window sill and lighting your cigarette, you waited for him to start. Your face was red and hurting from crying so incessantly, but you were determined to not let your emotions get the best of you, in front of him. At least, not right now. 

“When I asked you to forget me, I didn’t mean… you know, erase me from your memory or whatever. I meant give yourself a proper chance at happiness, when you’re there.”

You gave him no expressions.

“Like… I’m not dying to move on. This is killing me. I don't want us to come to an end. I even thought of giving long distance another shot… or like you know….maybe just keep in touch. But every time I thought about it, it was too painful. So I couldn’t ask you to do that because I…. didn’t wanna do that.” 

Saying that out loud made him realise how selfish he sounded. He continued his monologue when you wordlessly stood still and puffed away.

“I wanted to pretend like this isn’t hurting me, but I’m so miserable, noona. I don’t know how to live without you. I don’t even want to know how to live without you. But, I want you to live your life without me; which is hypocritical, I guess, but that’s why I asked you to forget me.”

“That’s really fucking unfair.” you interrupted. “You’re planning things for me without asking what I want. That’s not how it works. If I want to move on or not, is my decision. If I want to be miserable over you or not, is my decision. If I want to live my best life in London or not, again, is my decision. I have never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, Yugyeom; so what you asked of me was just cruel. I know I want to live in a fantasy until I have no option but to accept the outcome. I know it’s not a good way to deal with things. How could you even think  that forgetting you would ever be an option?

“I’m sorry” he pursed his lips and looked at the floor.

“When I said we have five more days, I wanted to play pretend. I was just trying to live in this denial bit longer. 

“Then… can I live in that denial with you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I gotta pack and hand over the house to the owner by tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the owner will understand if you’re delayed by a day or two or four.”

“I’m tired of running around in circles with you man”, you sighed. “No matter how this turns out, I will never not love you. Maybe in ten years time you’ll be with some other girl and I’ll be with some other dude, even then I will probably, in some capacity, still love you. And I get it if you don’t want to feel the same way, you don’t have to. But don’t ask me not to.”

“Thinking about you with someone else really fucking hurts.” he admitted, feeling a knot tighten in his throat.

“It hurts me too but you’re the one so fucking adamant about moving on like it’s gonna happen in 2 days.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yeah, of course... but I can let it slide if you promise to forget about me.” 

“Haha very funny.”

You chuckled and he wasted no time in giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“The only thing I can promise you is that I’ll love you till I die.”

“No one is dying, baby.”

“Without you, I just might.”

“Jaebeom won’t let that happen, you’re the second reason his studio has clients.”

“What’s the first?”

“Jaebeom, obviously.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at you. “He’s going to have to be the only reason, till next week because I’m stuck to you till you get on that plane.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you leave that room for the next 100 hours, starting now.”

He didn’t give you much time to process his words, as he picked you up to take you into the bedroom. You tried to fake-protest to the best of your capabilities, but truth be told there was no better feeling than hiding your face in the crook of his neck; while he effortlessly carried you in.

Making his intentions for the night perfectly clear, he took off his shirt.

“Wait-wait-wait!” you yelped, pinned under his lithe form. “All the food is on the table, I'll be damned if that Tiramisu goes to waste. I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it three.”

“Okay baby.”

Then you kissed him on the nose and ran out.

Since your last reconciliation, you'd spent most of your time in bed, mostly without clothes, wrapped in Yugyeom’s arms; savouring every kiss, every touch, trying to save these ending moments in your memory, so you could replay them over and over again at the end of this week when all this would inevitably be over. Your departure was three days away and the fact that you were still unpacked was beginning to weigh down on you heavily. You were at a point where you couldn’t really avoid it any more; even though it was antithetical to the denial you’d built your cozy house in.

As much anxiety you had regarding leaving and not wanting to deal with that, there was an equal amount of anxiety related to not being prepared ahead of time. It was a lose-lose situation either way, with consequences that weren’t susceptible to change. So, you decided to rip the bandaid completely, to avoid running around like a headless chicken at the last minute.

You didn’t have to deal with the furniture, at least, because even though some of it was bought together, Yugyeom owned the apartment. You just had to sort through your clothes and products.

He wasn't the most excited at the thought of seeing you empty out the house. 

“Do you know your living situation in London?” he asked, trying to hold up a conversation.

“Yeah…they’re giving me a furnished apartment as part of the deal.”

“Wait no rent?”

“Uh-huh”

“Woah that’s amazing.” The lack of excitement completely contradicted his statement. “And who’s gonna help you set up and stuff? Won’t you need help?”

“Uhm... mum’s already gonna be there when I land. Not at the apartment, obviously, but…. in London.”

“Aah. Ok ok. It’ll be good, you haven’t seen your parents in a long time”

“Hmm I guess.”

“And your visas and shit?”

“Yeah my passport’s with the company, they’ll sort it all out and hand it to me on the day of the flight.”A

Yugyeom felt like he’d accidentally stepped on an emotional land mine. 

He was already gutted about seeing his closet empty, and now hearing your monotone voice just upset him even further. But he didn’t want to show how sad this was making him either, because then you would probably cry.

It was really frustrating.

He quickly made up an excuse to leave for a bit. “Is it okay if I go to the studio, Jaebeom hyung needs me to sort through some assessments. But if you need me to stay, I’ll tell him something.”

”No, it’s okay. I have to face time Ishi anyway. I haven't spoken to her in a hot minute. And Jae has been more than patient this past week. I’ll try to be done soon too. It’ll probably take me 4-5 hours.”

Oh.

 “I’ll definitely be back by then.”

“Or… maybe I can meet you at the station and we can go to Naksan?”

He gave you an affirmative forced grin, kissed you on the forehead and headed to the studio to redirect all the aggression he was so suddenly full of.

Just knowing that you’d be leaving a giant gaping hole in his life, was driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up his end of the bargain any longer. You at least would get to start over a new life, in a new place with new faces. But he was going to have to pick up pieces of his life that he knew you were about to leave behind shattered; and never look back at 

Your fragrance lingered in every corner of his apartment. His bathroom smelt like your shampoo, his closet smelt like your body spray and cigarettes, his bed.… how was he ever going to exorcise your memories out of his bed? His king size bed that had not seen a dip on the right side up until you had waltzed into his life. Everything was going to remind him of you. His favourite restaurants, clubs, hideaways—it was overwhelming him. 

“Aah fuck” he mumbled to himself, absent-mindedly walking into the studio - much to Jaebeom’s surprise.

“I thought you weren’t coming in?”

“She’s packing. I’ll break something if I have to sit through it.”

“Don’t break anything here.”

“Maybe my bones.”

“The third room is empty.”

He was barely going to be able to concentrate on whatever choreography he was going to try, but he acknowledged Jaebeom and locked himself inside.

Jaebeom also felt rather incompetent to handle the situation, since he’d never seen this volatile and mostly upset side of Yugyeom. So he just let the kid do whatever he wanted to. No one knows what to do until you actually start doing it, right? Jinyoung would probably disapprove of this philosophy, but he wasn’t there to voice his objections, so too bad!

When dancing, Yugyeom barely ever understood the concept of time, so between choosing a song, researching some new styles, to mentally animating the possible formations, 4 hours flew by. He yelped and hurriedly ran to his phone, hoping he wasn’t already late.

You sighed heavily at the other end of the call “no... I’m still working through the pile. It’s probably going to take me two hours more.”

“It’ll be too dark to go to Naksan then.”

“Yeah…. I guess. Just come home?”

“It’ll take me some more time at the studio though.”

“That’s okay, take your time. It’s a mess here anyway.”

“Hmm… I’ll see you later then, noona.”

And he went back to focusing on perfecting the new moves, even harder than before, because otherwise your voice would keep ringing in his ears. He could hear how disheartened you already sounded and he wanted to be there for you, but he had to take care of his own feelings first, before he could take care of yours.

He didn’t know he could feel such a foul mood, but that’s what his days had recently been made of. All he’d done was get blackout drunk, fight and then fuck; this wasn’t a routine he recognised at all.

It was almost nine in the night when he entered the house, fully expecting to see you still having a rough time with a mountain of clothes next to you. Surprisingly, he found you passed out next to an empty cup of coffee.

He peeked inside the bedroom and his eyes immediately went to the two giant suitcases stacked in the corner and a cardboard box balanced on top of them.

His closet now housed his bare minimum collection of T-shirts and sweatpants and the bathroom was entirely stripped of its former glory. It was depressing. He took a quick shower and considered slumping onto the bed, knowing full well he should wake you up and make you eat something.

Who was going to feed you actual healthy food in London, with him not around? Because if you had it your way, you’d call a bag of chips dinner and call it a day.

He tried with everything he had, to not care about it and went back into the bedroom, fully determined to go to sleep. Perhaps it was his frustration towards the situation that was garnering such a petty reaction. But then he thought about it for five minutes more and felt like an absolute asshole. Why was he taking this out on you? It’s not like you deliberately caused it. It’s not even like he wanted you to stay for him.

He shook his head almost aggressively, as if trying to physically shake off the bad thoughts and went back out, to do what he actually should have done as soon as he came home.

You’d fallen asleep in the most haphazard position; your head resting on your arms on the kitchen island top, and your body stretched out on the chair. It didn’t look comfortable whatsoever.

He nudged you gently, “noona?”

You barely even stirred.

“Wake up, baby”. The butterflies he gave you, at such close proximity, made you open your eyes. 

“What time is it?” you groaned, lifting your head the slightest bit.

“It’s almost 10.”

You did a little cat stretch. “Did you just get back?”

“No... it’s been a bit, I took a shower and everything”.

“Oh… okay. I was planning on taking a bath too” you trailed off, yawning through the rest of the sentence.

“I’ll make something for us till then.”he replied, thinking about what they could eat, but his chain of thought was disturbed by a phone call.

“Oh hyung, yo.” you heard him say. His energy seemed so low.

“Wait right now? I don’t know hyung.”

Inquisitively you tilted your head and he handed you the phone. The quota of patience he had for the day was very low. 

You could see Jackson’s name on the screen and you greeted him accordingly.

“You wanna chill here?” You repeated, simultaneously gesturing to Yugyeom about his thoughts on the matter at hand. 

He shrugged indecisively and you came to the realisation that you hadn’t actually thought of when you’d say your final goodbyes to Jackson, or in fact anyone else except for Yugyeom; so now seemed like as good a time as any.

“Yeah cool, how long will you take?”

With his patience running on thin ice, the man standing in front of you frowned, but you pretended to not notice it. Instead, you stretched and headed for the shower, avoiding his gaze. Yugyeom’s energy was all over the place and you were lowkey glad you wouldn’t have to deal with it by yourself.

You thought about planning your day tomorrow and meeting at least some of the people you cared about. What you hadn’t expected was Jackson bringing most of those people to you.

Half an hour after the phone call, your living room was at full capacity. It wasn’t even that many people honestly, just your usual hang-out group - a mixture of your and Yugyeom’s combined friend list, but your living room looked full. 

Yugyeom was even more displeased than before, but managed to hide it by holding onto a bottle of beer, like it was crucial to his existence.

“He didn’t say he was coming with…. everyone.” You sheepishly expressed. 

“It’s fine. At least you get to meet most of your friends.”

“Yeah I guess, i was just thinking about it.”

You get distracted by a hand on your shoulder, “thinking about what?” Bambam asked

“Meeting some people before leaving.” You repeated.

“Ooh depressing.” 

“That’s one way to look at it.” You gave him a deadpan stare, unimpressed by his poor timing.

Yugyeom took the opportunity to wander off to his other friends, most of whom were gathered around the table of food, in front of the TV.

Some random nonsense movie was playing that Mark and his girlfriend were really invested in. He considered sitting next to them but he was not sure when they’d start making out, so he parked himself next to Jaebeom instead. His head was heavier in that moment than it had been in the morning, when he’d left. He couldn’t leave right now though, Jackson would beat his ass.

So he settled for eating silently and drinking slowly, in his little corner.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep up a brave face. Jackson had already repeated himself at least thrice, saying how much he was going to miss you and it was getting more and more difficult to hold your tears. 

Taking a large gulp of the wine you had in your hand, you told him you were going to miss him a lot too and gave him a partial hug.

There was no scope of hiding from the reality of the situation anymore.

Two days later no one in this room was going to physically be a part of your life. Just two days. All you wanted to do was find Yugyeom and bury your head in his chest, like the ostrich that you were.

You took in some really deep breaths and poured yourself more booze, in the hopes of turning it around and becoming chipper.

Inevitability should be accepted or else life begins to feel like a drag…. no?

Alcohol made it a lot easier for you to bury the sadness that came with your unofficial ‘bon voyage’ celebration. A part of you was also suddenly scared to approach Yugyeom. You studied his face carefully, discreetly, while seated on the couch. Get togethers usually made him hyper, yet here he was looking into his phone like he was studying for a phd degree.

Even though there was an overwhelming urge to go and talk to him, you decided against it. If he wasn’t feeling some type of way, he would not have isolated himself like that and you knew you were partially to blame for it 

You indulged in more cocktails, talked to your friends and somewhere in the middle of all this chatter, Jackson, for the nth time commenced a relay of toasts addressed to you. Really on brand of him to talk about his feelings like that but because you were caught so off-guard you started crying.You weren’t prepared for this kind of emotional haranguing.

Yugyeom hated every minute of it. He didn’t want to hear over and over again that you were leaving, or see you cry. He should have declined Jackson’s proposition when he had the chance to, but now he had to deal with long speeches almost all of which included him too. He felt his lungs constrict like he was about to drown. Jaebeom gave him a comforting pat on the back and passed him a new bottle of soju. 

From time to time he looked at you but avoided eye contact. He knew he should have been next to you, hugging and comforting you, he just couldn’t bring himself upto the task. It was that same resentment he had felt earlier today that made him respond in this fashion. All he wanted was this night to end and for everyone to leave. But then again, maybe this was better because he didn’t have to be alone with you. 

You cried for a good hour while everyone told you they were going to miss you. There were long hugs and accelerating levels of inebriation involved. You promised to text everyone back because at that moment you had no proper words to say and you wanted to tell them all so much. 

By the time you crossed your threshold of tipsy to near blackout drunk, it was almost daybreak. The sun was just beginning to peek at you from behind the mountains. 

Yugyeom was in a worse shape than you, so Jackson and Jinyoung decided to clean up a bit, as your parting gift; trying to rope in Bambam in.

“No way. I know what’s coming after she leaves. I deserve a break before donning my emotional clean up crew role.”

“Don’t lie, you’re both just going to drink.” 

“Yes and drown him in his sorrows. This is how you clean out emotions. He’s gonna drink and cry.”

“That’s the worst way to deal with anything.” Jackson rolled his eyes

“Hyung…. you work out and write music, he drinks and dances. It’s not really all that different.”

“It’s not the same either though. If I feel something I don’t carry it with me. All he does is let it eat him until he forgets it or explodes.”

Can you debate about this later and help me carry him to the bedroom?” Jaebeom interrupted. 

Jackson handed the empty bottles to Jinyoung and got to the task of shifting Yugyeom’s large body from the couch.

“Just him?” Bambam asked

“I already tucked her in,” Jaebeom replied. “We should get out of here soon.”

“Yeah, I still have to go to work. Can’t believe Youngjae and Mark left me alone.” Jinyoung complained, trying to make as little noise as possible while trashing the garbage.

With a lot of difficulty, Jackson was able to plonk Yugyeom on the bed. Jaebeom studied you both before heaving a sigh. The peaceful look on your faces was not an accurate testament to your respective behaviours prior to passing out. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He kept a trash bag and a bottle of water each near your nightstands before leaving. 

At least he could hope that when you wake up, you’d feel better.

... You didn’t.

The splitting headache you were experiencing was really on another level when combined with your sandpaper mouth. Thankfully things were conveniently placed around you because if you had to walk to the kitchen to drink water right now you'd rather die of thirst than get up. Your attention turned to the man next to you, his porcelain skin tempting you to kiss him or at least stroke his face, but you resisted. 

You finished the whole bottle and gently lowered yourself back into the bed, lying awake with throbbing pains radiating from various places. 

Yugyeom made a cute sound in his sleep, making your heart jump. It was nearly impossible to not want to scoot closer to him. He hadn’t given you a hug in all of twenty four hours and you were already about to lose your mind.

How you were going to survive without him was really beyond your comprehension.

You just lightly touched your fingers to his palm and closed your eyes, hoping you’d fall back to sleep. The next thing you knew he had one arm around you and was pulling you into his chest; aligning his body with yours. His soft breaths landing on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Feeling okay?” He asked in his hoarse, morning voice. 

“Hmm…”

You could feel his lips moving against your skin as he spoke, making you melt in his embrace. Your heartbeat accelerated and he held onto you even tighter. 

Melancholy hung in the air, much like Christmas decorations in December; he could feel it. Your legs intertwined and he heard a faint sob.

There was nothing he could say that would change the atmosphere. It was time to burst the bubble, so he let you cry, and he cried too.

Head buried in your back, he whispered, “noona…. please will you leave a hoodie of yours with me?”

You nodded and kissed his hand. 

“I love you.” He said and the both of you went back to sleep. 

It was almost evening when he finally woke up. You weren’t in bed anymore, his head was hammering to a tune of it’s own, in spite of having medicated in the morning, and his body was craving water. Staggering, he made his way to the kitchen and found you in a semi-messy situation with cooking paraphernalia all over the counter.

“Oh? What is happening here”. It sounded like he was concerned but he was really only a bit confused. 

“making some sandwiches.”

“Suddenly? Why? We could have just ordered.”

“Yeaaah I don’t know, just felt like it.”

He smiled, because you looked so cute in that apron. His mood was foul but looking at you made it better. He chugged some water while you emptied the pan and he was overcome with the urge to hug you.

You were caught off-guard when he put his arms around you, but you reciprocated his gesture. It was difficult for you to look him in the eyes because you weren’t sure if, for the hundredth time, you'd end up crying. He cupped your face and nudged you to see him, the sincerity in his face…. all the love he wanted to shower you with right then.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time to taste the light traces of your strawberry lip balm. You didn'’t know what spells he used to get you turned on so fast. Threading your fingers with his hair, you deepen the kiss. The urgency that took over him was maddening. He wanted you right now, which he made abundantly clear when he slipped his left hand under your T-shirt and began caressing your boobs; his other hand gripping your hair and pulling it sharply. 

There was air caught up in your lungs as he kissed your neck, like you’d temporarily forgotten how to breathe. Low moans began to escape your lips and you squeezed your thighs together. You were so wet, just with his mildly aggressive kisses.

He knew what he was doing to you when he felt your lower body clench and both his hands slid back down to grab your butt.

The kiss got sloppier as your focus dwindled to his boner, your fingers already caressing it over his sweatpants. He bit your lip in response, pushed you against the kitchen island and aimed to remove your clothes. You were still in your flannel and shorts from the night before, so he fumbled a bit on the buttons. His accuracy was failing him because you weren't stroking him over the sweatpants anymore; he could feel your hand sliding over his skin, purposefully slow and tender. His eyes were barely open, your lips were still locked and he was trying to get you naked without actually seeing what he was doing. He grunted helplessly when you touched the tip of his cock. Wet sounds of you stroking his length, mixed in with his shallow breaths and moans, filled the kitchen. 

He nibbled on your neck, as your movements accelerated. With your non-dominant hand you tried your best to remove his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“Turn around.” He whispered, pulling your hand away. The way he seduced you with his demanding voice and bedroom eyes, you gave in without a fight. You bucked your hips and grabbed the closest edge of the marble top. He bit your neck, gently sucking at the skin caught between his lips, until it looked bruised and then he moved on further down, while dry humping your ass, one hand firmly placed on your waist. A small gasp escaped your lips when his fingers slipped inside your panties. Automatically, you spread your legs wide, to let him access the delicate parts. 

He could smell your shampoo mixed in with your intoxicating scent and it was sending him over the moon as he played with your wet and sensitive clit.

“Good girl” he praised, when you pushed your ass further into his boner, craving to feel it bare.

You hummed, his thin and long fingers dancing to the tune of your arousal. He fingered you slowly and deliberately, and it was excruciating. 

It was the last time he was going to get to feel you. Tomorrow you'd be gone. It made him angry and sad. It made him desperate. 

You could feel his aggression in the way his lips collided onto yours with force, the way his nails dug into your skin, the way his body was stiff and wrapped around you in a solid cage.

His hold on you tightened and he spun you around again, to face him. He wanted to make sure you never forgot how he made you feel; so that no other man would ever be enough for you because he set that bar up so high. He wanted to spoil the idea of being pleased again by anyone else, for you. Maybe it was toxic to think that way, but he was already letting go of you.

He had no choice but to let go of you. The train of thought he'd gotten on made his brain short circuit and switch off. He wasn't aroused anymore and everything was blurry and confusing. Before he could stop himself, he took a step back.

“Don't leave me, noona.” He said in a small voice, looking at the floor.

The words crash on you like a violent wave. 

You wished he'd stayed looking at the tiles, because when he looked up, you felt the guilt of having accidentally run over a puppy. There was sadness and shame and anger and you didn't know which emotion to address first.

“Yugs….”

So many words swirled in your brain but your lips were sewn shut.

“So, I guess that's a no.”

“What are you trying to do, Yugyeom?”

“Oh well, It was worth a try.” He chuckled, rather bitterly.

What else was he expecting would happen.

Life is not a movie scene; the girl doesn't quit on her career for the boy, in real life. But was it valid for him to feel the sting that persistently worsened as you two stood opposite each other uncomfortably? He knew this was going to happen. He chose it with you. Hell, he chose it for you even. While he was trying to rationalise his own resentments, you straightened yourself up and started putting the buttons of your shirt back in place. 

“I don't know what you want to hear from me, Yugs. You know I don't want to leave you. And you don't want to come with me.”

Shit, that stung him even more.

“I have to leave for the airport in 12 hours so do we have to be like this?” You asked defeatedly. 

He shook his head and you extended your arms, waiting for him to fall into them.

“I'm really sorry we have to end this way.”

In his experience, there was no safer feeling than being held by you, but right now it was the root cause of all the knives ruthlessly jammed in his chest.

Nonetheless, he hugged you and exhaled pure agony.

“I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe afterwards, if you feel like it, we can go get some drinks?” You asked cautiously.

“Yeah… I’d like that” he lied, as he let go. Truth be told, he couldn't look past the multiple ‘last times’ anymore. The last time he could hug you, the last time he could fuck you, the last time he could hear your voice… he couldn't do any of it. He didn't want to do any of it. He didn't want this for the last time. He heard you close the door to the bathroom and started fixing his appearance however he could, grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out. If he stayed in that house for a second more he felt he'd choke and die. He was trying to run away from the toxic fumes his own thoughts were emitting, and there was nowhere to hide from them, so he tried to leave them behind. 

His brisk walk turned into a sprint and then he ran as fast as he could towards the subway station. And just like that he vanished into the sea of anonymity, nowhere to be found.

Four hours had gone by since you'd come out of your shower to a deserted house and a singular message from Yugyeom. “Sorry noona, I can't do this.”

it felt like a cruel déjà vu.

His phone wasn't reachable. Bambam had no idea, neither did Jaebeom. You were much too confused to react in any appropriate manner.

“He left” You said to Jaebeom, who was equally confused and infuriated.

It seemed like you'd already connected the dots as to Yugyeom’s unavailability but a part of you was holding onto some hope.

“I'm sure he's gonna show up dude.”

“I have to leave in like 3 more hours. He wouldn't have left if he planned to show up.”

“He's definitely not at Bam’s?”

“Jae…. unless I was being lied to, he's not there. And i don't think Bam has any reason to do that.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah” you sighed. 

You were neither angry, nor sad and you had good reason to experience both those emotions at once, but the way your brain had switched itself to autopilot, everything had just become a matter of necessity. 

You tried Yugyeom’s number once again, and weren't even surprised anymore when you heard the automated switched off message. 

While scanning the room your eyes fell upon your suitcases and your heart dropped 6 feet further than where it was already at.

You had to leave soon.

The silence had already been gnawing at your sanity, now it was overpowering guilt because if you had just said no, none of this would have happened. If you had just said no to the promotion. If you had tried harder for Seoul. If you had chosen to stay when Yugyeom asked you to, then the chain of events would have been different. Maybe, if he'd not run away from this whole situation you could have figured out a solution. But he wasn't here and you were running out of time.

A high pitched buzzer cut through the atmosphere, giving you a jump scare. For a second you thought maybe it was Yugyeom, but why would he need to ring the bell.

You saw Jackson's silhouette in the little alarm system by the door and sighed. 

“You look so unhappy to see me.” He huffed, when you greeted him dryly.

“Gee Jackson, sorry I'm upset about Yugyeom literally bailing on me when I have to leave in an hour.”

“Wait what? He's not back?” 

“No…..i don't know where he is.”

“And he's still not answering?”

“I tried about 50 times, it's off. Anyway, how come you're here?” 

It was comical how distraught you were internally and how inept you were at translating your emotions externally. The way you were talking, no one would think you were in this sad sad situation of leaving your life behind to start a new one.

“You don't remember asking me to drop you off?”

“Was I drunk?”

“Well…. tipsy maybe?”

“I was definitely drunk. I don't remember any of it. But, I'm glad you're here.”

“Are you…. packed?”

“Yeah, I just got the last batch of clothes I need to shove in.”

“Cool. You have anything to eat?”

“I made some sandwiches in the evening. Have at it.”

You were trying your best to be normal. A few minutes later Bambam and Jaebeom arrived as well, both without any worthwhile news of Yugyeom.

“I'm gonna kill him when I see him.” Jaebeom raged.”this is very childish.”

“It's fine man…. i know why he just vanished. It's okay. I'm not mad.” 

“Bro are you…. Hearing yourself?”

“Very clearly. He was never good with confrontational emotions. He didn't want to see me leave so he left. It's not rocket science.” 

“You went through your stages of grief really fast with this one.” 

“I didn't have an option.” you looked at the three of them sitting around you “So…. are all of you taking me to the airport?”

“Yeah, duh.” Bambam countered.

“Okay then wait for me in the car, I need to say bye to the house.”

“And you can't do that in front of us?” 

“Would you rather get uncomfortable watching me cry?”

Honestly, you were just prolonging it, the actual act of leaving. You felt so heavy when Jaebeom rolled your suitcases out. In passing you looked at your two favourite hoodies you'd left on the bed and it took everything out of you to not have an emotional breakdown right at that moment.

It was difficult, leaving was difficult especially without Yugyeom. You were in denial of your feelings but you were so angry at him but also so sorry towards him, your emotions kept cancelling each other out. You just wanted to hug him one last time and get the closure you were hoping to get but he took that option away from you. In your three year relationship, this was maybe the most cruel he’d ever been with you. But it was over now. This chapter was done, even with all of its loose ends.

You took your time saying your final byes to three of the most important people you'd met in Seoul. It was quite impressive that you didn't burst out in tears, even when Bam and Jae almost did. There was a part of you that was distracted by a hope that he'd be at the airport to see you off. When he wasn't at the main gates, you hoped he'd be there at check-in. While walking towards your departure gate you kept an eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile. You just wanted to say goodbye. But he never came. You sat glued to your spot, because what if he did try to find you and you weren't there. You boarded your flight at the very end. You gave an imaginary him all the imaginary chances you could, to materialise and tie a neat ribbon around your life in Seoul.

But your flight took off and the last shred of hope you had snapped and so did you.

Because life isn't a movie. Just like the girl doesn't leave her career, the boy doesn't run through the airport either. 

[ao-anonymousobsesser]

Oops?

Hey! So! I’m not dead! Surprised? Me too!

This story was written for my good friend @comfortably-chaotic-mind -  I love them, please go follow them and read whatever they post. Some ColdFlash written just for you, buddy, since I know I haven’t written much...and this is honestly kind of garbage and not in any way explicitly ColdFlash until the end, and I might eventually continue it in a real story (probably not). But anyway! Good job with school! Here you go!

Oops? a ColdFlash Fic for @comfortably-chaotic-mind - 4700 words

“Allen.”

He glanced up, fingers pausing their furious typing but still hovering over the keys. “Yeah?”

“There’s some guy at the door, says he knows you.”

Barry’s brow scrunched. “Who?”

His roommate shrugged. “Didn’t give a name. Said he was your friend, asked me to get you.” A pause, and he looked over his shoulder almost nervously. “He’s creepy, dude—I think he might be on the run. Who the fuck you hangin’ out with?”

Realization dawned, and he laughed. “Oh, okay,” he said, still laughing. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just Len—you can let him in.”

“You sure?”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Hal. I promise he won’t steal your stuff.”

His roommate’s eyes narrowed at that. “Even more suspicious,” he muttered, but he disappeared back into the hall.

There were muffled voices—Hal telling Len where to find him—and then the front door shut and the TV in the living room turned on. If he listened really carefully, he could hear quiet footsteps on the creaky stairs.

The door to his bedroom-slash-office opened again, and he turned back to his computer. The data report wasn’t going to finish itself. It didn’t take long for the door to shut, and then a man’s figure came to lean against the desk beside his arm.

“No Cold-Gun today?” Barry asked, conversational. “How bold of you. You know, without that thing, I could take you to jail whenever I want.”

The man scoffed. “We have a deal, Scarlet—I don’t kill, you don’t turn me in. I haven’t killed anyone, so…”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Snart?” he sighed. “And how did you even find me?”

“I asked Vibe.”

Barry waited for him to continue, but he left it at that, so Barry finally stopped talking and looked up with a raised brow and a completely nonplussed expression. “What do you want, Cold?” he snapped.

Len just frowned. “What are you doing here, Scarlet?”

“What do you mean?” He gestured pointedly around them. “I’m working.”

“You work in Central City,” the man corrected, almost…grumbling.

Barry shook his head, face scrunching in utter confusion. “No, I mean—I had to go back to school.”

“Back?”

“Yeah? Back? This is where I went to get my degree in the first place, and now I have to take an updated course. Just a few weeks. I should be back by next month. I’m even getting paid for it.” He grinned, though it almost immediately fell when Len just stared at him. “What?”

“When did you get your degree?”

“Every CSI has a college degree, Snart. It’s mandatory.”

“No. When were you in Coast City?”

He shrugged. “I moved the summer after high school. School for three years, training for one, and then I went home.” The other man was silent, and his brow scrunched in concern. “Why?”

Len shook his head. “No reason,” he said quietly, glancing around the room. The way he said it indicated that there was, in fact, a reason, but that he would not be disclosing it. “What are you doing back?”

“Refresher course,” Barry replied slowly. “They updated the curriculum for the new tech we have now, and Singh offered to send me back here instead of doing the course in Central, since Coast City is way better in the university department.”

The other man didn’t ask anything else, still looking around the room, and the speedster sighed deeply.

“Look, Snart, I have a lot of work to do, so if there’s a reason for this visit, please get to—”

“What was it like,” he interrupted, the words rough and halting, as if he were forcing them out of his throat, “for you, when you were in your coma?”

Barry blinked in surprise. “How do you know about that?”

“Humor me, Scarlet.”

“I…” He hesitated before shaking his head. “Well, it was hard, at first. Not just because I woke up with superspeed, but—when I was…asleep…I was just dreaming. About anything, everything—and it didn’t really feel like anything more than just regular dreams and stuff. And then I woke up, and it had been, like…nine, ten months without me even noticing. So I had to deal with that.” He sighed. “The world just kind of…I mean, the world doesn’t stop because a random CSI is in a coma. No one really cared—No one other than Iris and Joe, and STAR Labs kinda. So, yeah. It was rough for a while. Everything had changed, and I didn’t even get to see it.”

Len was quiet for a long moment. Barry watched him carefully, searching for any sign as to what this was all about.

Finally, the older man sighed and shook his head. “How did you know it was me at the door?”

“Hal’s description,” he replied without hesitation. “He’s pretty intuitive about stuff. Said you looked like you were on the run, and creepy, and suspicious, but if he thought you were actually dangerous, he would have come out and said it. And you’re the only one I know that could pull that off and still say, I’m a friend of Barry’s, can you get him? with a totally straight face.” He shrugged. “Anyone else who might have done that is still in Central. I got an update last night—they all went out to celebrate Caitlin’s first official catch.” He grinned.

Len rolled his eyes. “You left a bunch of newbies to protect the city,” he sighed disapprovingly.

Barry frowned. “You know, when we first met, I was a newbie,” he pointed out. “I had only been a speedster for like—a month.” He huffed. “Cisco and Iris have it under control for now. It’s fine. The city’s in good hands.”

“I don’t like it.”

The speedster paused, head tilted as his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I just don’t. A lot can happen without the Scarlet Speedster around.”

“There are three other speedsters in town right now. I think they’ll be fine.”

“None of them are you.”

“What’s your point, Len?” he sighed, exasperated now. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

Just then, Barry’s alarm sounded, startling him. It was noon: officially lunchtime. He huffed, shutting down his laptop and standing to stretch. Then his phone started beeping again—not his alarm, this time, but his text-tone. And then it started ringing. Like, ringing ringing, in the way it only did when Cisco’s latest installation was being put to use.

He had only let him put the app on his phone a few weeks ago, before going to Coast City, just in case. If several people called him at once, he could choose which he wanted to answer rather than hearing the busy-line beeping noise when he answered the phone.

Barry raised a brow and reached for the device.

Len grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t answer that,” he all but ordered. “Trust me.”

“Why?” His face scrunched. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“They’re just going to tell you that I’m on my way here,” the man explained carefully. “And since I’m already here, you don’t need to know.”

“How did you get here so fast, then?” Barry retorted.

“Kara lent me her generator.” Len shrugged. “She was…strangely nice.” His brow rose. “I’m guessing you only told her the good parts, and not that I’m a criminal?”

The speedster ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe? By the time I met her, you were with the Legends.” He paused. “How did you meet her?”

“Long story.”

“Obviously, I’ve got time.” He crossed his arms and glared pointedly. “What the hell is going on, Len? What did you do in Central that has everyone trying to get ahold of me? When did you get back from the Waverider? Why are you here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go!” Len shouted, expression crumpling. “Mick won’t talk to me, Lisa’s underground, Sara thinks I’ve lost my mind, and the rest of the crew—they can barely look at me after what they did! What they let me do!”

Barry was utterly confused, now, and he took a slow step forward as if approaching a scared, wounded animal. “What are you talking about?” he asked carefully.

“I died, Barry.”

He froze—actually froze, standing stock-still like a robot shutting down. This was… “What?” he asked. “What…That…What?”

Len sighed, slumping down into the vacated office chair. “The Time Masters were—They were gonna let Vandal Savage wreck the timeline. Kill whoever he wanted. They said they had to, to ensure the world’s survival.”

“What does that mean?”

“In a couple hundred years, we’re going to be invaded by Thanagaar—an alien planet with a warlike people. And the Time Masters don’t think we’ll make it unless Savage is there to help us. So, they let him do what he wants, shape the world into what he thinks is best, and he’ll save the world.”

“It’s Vandal Savage, Len. He can’t be trusted.”

“I know,” he snapped. “We all knew that.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We decided to destroy their time-keeping device. The Oculus, they called it. It held the records for every timeline, every little change that would or could occur. Destroy that, and time is guided by freewill.”

“And?”

“And the only way to destroy it was to stand right next to it, holding down the button until it exploded.” He looked up, watching the horror dawn across Barry’s face, and nodded. “Ray was going to be the one, thinking his Atom suit would protect him, but we saw that it wouldn’t. And then Mick tried to step in, because Rip convinced him it was the way to repent—by saving his friend. I couldn’t—I couldn’t let him die.”

“Len…”

“I couldn’t let Mick die, Barry,” he snapped. “Not like that. Not when I—I was the one who dragged him into the whole thing. Into the Legends. He followed me, after everything, after everything I did to him, and…and I couldn’t do it.”

“I get it.”

“I knocked him out, took his place…blew up the Oculus. Took out half the Time Masters, too.”

“And then?”

“I died. Disintegrated. Became…Nothing.”

Barry reached out to set a hand on his shoulder, brow scrunched in sympathy. “How long?”

“I don’t know.” Len shook his head. “Days? Years? Centuries? I…I wasn’t sleeping, exactly, or dreaming. It was all…real. And then you were there. Every time I managed to pull myself together, every time I relaxed into the pain enough to think…You were there.”

He was confused again. “I don’t remember…”

The man was already shaking his head. “An older version of you,” he clarified. “You were…maybe thirty?” He sighed. “There were so many fragments, different timelines…It’s hard to keep track. Most of them didn’t make sense.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not say. If you don’t mind.”

Barry shrugged. “That’s fine, I guess. It’s your trauma.” He sighed. “So this was maybe…three, four years in the future.”

“Most of it.”

“And the rest?”

Len looked away at that, silent for a minute. Then, quietly, “The last one was a few weeks ago. He brought me back to the Waverider.”

“He?”

“You…Future-You.” He chuckled softly. “I fell through a wormhole onto his kitchen floor.”

Barry laughed. “I’m sure that was surprising.”

Len shrugged. “He didn’t seem surprised. But it could have been because he was older.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t seem surprised?”

“He…” Hesitation, again. “He just leaned over and said, Finally. Then he helped me up, explained some science stuff that I couldn’t understand, and offered to take me back to my time.”

“How old was he—I?” Barry stuttered.

“Forty? Maybe forty-five?” Another shrug. “You might have been older, though—I had a feeling. Speedster aging must be slower.”

“Strange.” He shook his head. “How long did you stay with the Legends?”

“Not long. Like I said, they can barely stand to be around me.” He sighed. “It didn’t take much to get them to drop me off in 2016.”

“You still haven’t told me how you met Supergirl. She’s on another Earth, Len—the Waverider couldn’t have taken you there, and I don’t think you have any favors left with Cisco. So how did you meet?”

Len nodded, thoughtful. “That…is complicated.”

“More complicated than literally dying?”

“Yes.”

Barry huffed and sat down on his bed, crossing his arms. “Hit me with it, then.”

“First of all, I didn’t meet her this year. I met her…probably at least fifteen or twenty years from now. It’s all a little fuzzy.”

“Why?”

“She—Well, her team, really…They were the ones who pulled my threads together.” He shook his head. “They didn’t mean to, not really—they were looking for some sort of robot, or something—but they got me out first. I was unconscious for that part. Woke up in a hospital bed next to Kara’s.”

“She was hurt?”

Len shook his head again. “Not exactly…More drained. The machine they used drew power from her. She insisted it was fine, that she just needed some Vitamin D, and she’d be fine.”

“Her power comes from the Sun.”

“I know that now—I didn’t know back then.” He sighed. “She asked who I was…and when I told her, she immediately asked if I knew you and Oliver.”

“Of course she did,” he muttered. “And then?”

“I don’t remember a lot of it,” Len admitted. “She gave me one of her spare generators, and then I woke up on Older-Barry’s kitchen floor.” A scoff. “And then I get home to a crew that no longer wants anything to do with me. They dropped me off in Central. I looked for Lisa, but it looks like she’s underground—she’s not at any of her usual safehouses.”

Barry grimaced, shifting slightly in his seat. “Um…”

The former villain narrowed his eyes. “What’s that, Scarlet?”

He winced. “Lisa’s not underground, Len.”

“What are you talking about? Is she in jail?”

“No…” Barry sighed. “She’s on Earth-2.”

“Why?” Len demanded, lurching from his seat.

“Because she’s sick,” he said calmly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Harry—Earth-2 Wells knew a doctor who specializes in her condition, one who’s much better than anyone we know on this Earth, and we sent her over there to get help. Cisco’s probably on his way there right now to tell her you’re back.” He paused. “Actually, she’s probably with the you who lives there, now that I think about it.”

“What?” That made him pause in his anger, at least, now confused and concerned. “Why?”

“I don’t think you want to know,” Barry hedged. “But she’s in good hands, I promise.”

“Just tell me, Barry.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “The doctor I told you about, the specialist? It’s her—Earth-2 Lisa Snart is a bio-engineer with a Medical Degree. Basically, she’s Caitlin. Minus the ice powers and with the addition of some pretty sweet inventions.” He grimaced. “Her brother is…the Mayor. Of Central City. They killed their dad when they were kids—self-defense.”

Len was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’ve met, then?”

He nodded. “Twice, actually. Once on accident…and then again when Harry introduced us to Lenny and Doc. They’re…nice. Safe. Very protective, which isn’t surprising.” He grinned. “Last I talked to Lisa, she was awake and feeling a lot better. She hasn’t had an episode in almost two months, and her brain activity is back to normal. She sounds better, too—more like herself. Even flirted with Cisco when they talked, which she hadn’t done in a while…”

“She’s okay, then?”

“Not at a hundred percent yet,” Barry warned with a shrug. “But yeah. She’s safe. Happy. Feeling better than she did when she first came to us.”

“What happened?”

“She just—Showed up at Joe’s one night, out of nowhere. I think it was maybe a month or so after you left—she had called Cisco before that, asking if we knew where you were, and we told her, and she was pissed at me for some reason.” He laughed, just a little. “Then she just shows up out of nowhere at Joe’s house, scares the hell out of me when she just walks right through the front door. Which was locked.” He shook his head. “Apparently, she stole your key?” His brow raised.

Len just smirked. “Lock-picking gets tedious after a while.”

“Where did you even—”

“Iris should be more careful about leaving her purse lying around.”

“…Whatever.” Barry huffed. “So, anyway, Lisa just walks in one night—middle of the night, out of nowhere—sits right next to me on the couch, scaring the hell out of me. She looks at me, and I could already tell something was messed up with her, because she just…she didn’t look right. She looked tired and sad and…sick.” He sighed. “She looked at me for a minute and then said, Don’t freak out. You know, like she hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere. And then she said, I need your help. And I was like, With what? And she told me she ran into an old boyfriend and he did something to her.”

“What the f—”

“Not that,” he assured quickly. “That was my first thought, but she kind of lost it when I asked her, and—yeah. So then, when she calmed down from that, she got this headache…migraine…thing, and that was when I first saw her get one of her attacks.” He grimaced. “It was…bad. Weird, and scary, and it actually kind of freaked me out.” A sigh. “So, uh, I called Caitlin first, and then Cisco and Harry, and asked them to meet us at STAR Labs. Harry had actually seen something like it before, on his Earth, and he knew a specialist—other-Lisa—who could help. So we took her there. She insisted that I had to come with her, and she wouldn’t let me leave until she was with Lenny and Doc, until she was sure she could trust them.”

Len thought this all over for a moment. “What exactly did this attack entail?”

“Hard to describe…” Barry thought about it. “She kind of…exploded? Not her body, but like…her spirit, kind of. Like an astral projection, except she couldn’t control it enough to actually appear as a person.” He sighed. “We met the ex-boyfriend a few weeks later…Roscoe?”

“Dillon.” He sneered. “He’s still around?”

“Not anymore,” the speedster said darkly. “He was a metahuman…some kind of tornado-hurricane-spinning abilities. Cisco called him Topsy-Turvy, but after he just kept coming and coming…it was an accident, but he died.”

“How did he hurt Lisa?”

“As far as we can tell…She was working on some sort of mercenary work or something, and he was robbing a bank, and they…literally ran into each other. She got thrown into a wall, got a knock on the head, and apparently the concussion triggered some kind of ability she didn’t know about.”

“She wasn’t in Central—”

“When the Particle Accelerator blew.” Barry nodded. “Yeah, we know.” He winced. “You’re not gonna like our theory on that.”

“Why not?” Len asked, very slowly.

“Because it might be my fault.”

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Turns out…I kind of…give off small amounts of Dark Matter because of the Speed Force…mostly when I run.”

“And?”

“And, the people that I transport, if they carry a metahuman gene, could, theoretically, absorb that Dark Matter in the same way that people affected by the Particle Accelerator did…and, theoretically, this would make them more likely to develop an ability when exposed to violent trauma.” A pause. “I transported Lisa a handful of times when we were helping you guys last year, and even before that for different reasons.”

Len didn’t say anything to this, instead looking down at his hands.

“I’m sorry, Len,” Barry said quietly. “If I’d known…”

“It’s not your fault,” he told him. “You didn’t know.”

“I…”

“Not every bad thing that happens is your fault, Scarlet,” Len said with a smirk. “It’s alright.”

Barry huffed. “Fine.” He was quiet for a minute. “If you want, I can take you to her. You know, so you can see for yourself.”

He thought about it for a bit before shaking his head. “No,” he decided. “If she’s getting what she needs, I don’t want to interrupt it. If Cisco does tell her and she wants to see me, I’ll go, but for now, she needs her rest.”

The speedster nodded in understanding. “Okay.” His phone was still ringing, and he looked at it. “I’m just gonna tell them that everything is fine.”

He picked up the device, ignoring the calls, and opened the group chat, which was full of about a hundred messages that all said pretty much the same thing. He sent out a text saying, Yeah, he’s here. Just wants to talk about some stuff. Everything is fine. Thanks, I’ll let you know later. Love you guys.

With that, Barry sighed and slipped the phone into his pocket. “So, what are you going to do now?” he asked the former villain.

Len just smiled. “Not sure. I could go back to robbing banks…but I don’t really need the money. Maybe I’ll offer your team some help in Central.”

“What do you mean, you don’t need the money?” His eyes narrowed.

“Blowing up the Oculus had a few benefits.” He shrugged. “I know all the lottery numbers for the next five years. I’ve already made four-hundred grand.”

“Len…”

“Technically not a crime.”

“Still.” Barry shook his head with a deep sigh. “Fine, whatever. Well, I’m sure STAR Labs could use the help. And I’ll be back in no time…as soon as I finish this course, which is…not what I expected.”

“Too hard?”

“Too easy,” he corrected, scoffing. “I’ve read all the material, and the projects are all…solved with very little effort. Nothing near as challenging as my actual job in Central. Science there is always complicated.”

“Because of the metas.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Superpowers make regular science look way easier than it did in college.” He nodded at the computer. “Actually, after the paper I’m working on right now, I only have two more and a final exam. I could be done by next week, if I wanted. I just don’t want Singh to think I rushed through it.”

“He already trusts you more than any other CSI, Barry. I think he trusts you to do the work on your own schedule.”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll see you back in Central next week.”

“I—”

“Next week, Barry.”

A sigh. “Fine. Next week.” His phone buzzed, he looked at the message and laughed. “Harry says your sister is attempting a prison break to try to see you. You might want to visit her.”

Len chuckled. “Alright then. I suppose it’s time to tell her what’s happened.” He stood, holding out a hand when Barry followed suit. When their hands clasped, the villain-turned-legend pulled the speedster forward until they were almost hugging. “I’ll see you soon, Scarlet.”

“See you soon, Cold.”

And with the press of a button, Len was gone, leaving Barry to wonder exactly what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6 Weeks Later

“Barry…”

“Iris…”

She sighed. “This is getting unprofessional.”

He laughed, a little nervous. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Len.” It had taken a while for everyone to get used to each other, but now he was just Len instead of Cold. Progress. “You guys have got to stop flirting in the field. It’s weird.”

“We do not flirt.”

“You’re literally blushing, Barry.” Her tone was amused now. “Do you have a crush?”

“Iris,” the speedster all but whined, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “This is weird.”

“Why? Because we dated?”

“Yes!”

“Barely.” Iris rolled her eyes. “Barry, it’s fine. You have a crush on Len, it’s fine…but you should probably tell him.”

“No!” he said immediately. “No, that’s—That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

That made him pause. “Really?” He bit his lip, looking at her. “You think so?”

“Lisa keeps teasing him about it.” She nodded. “And you’re both clearly attracted to each other, and you’re always flirting, so…Why not just come out and say it?”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“What if it ends badly?”

“What if it doesn’t?” Iris laughed brightly. “Barry, sometimes you get in your own way. You just gotta go for it sometimes. Take a leap of faith. It’s gonna be okay.”

Barry was quiet for a long time, and Iris eventually left him to his own devices.

Ultimately, he decided to go for it; he went to find Len. Unsurprisingly, he was at “their” spot: a diner across from Jitters and CCPD, filled with leather booths and chrome and the smell of fresh homemade pie.

Barry slid into the booth across from Len, who looked up from his phone with a smile. “Hey, Scarlet. Look at this.”

He turned the device around so the speedster could see. “What’s that? Oh—Oh, that’s so cool!” He grinned. “Lisa-Squared?”

“Yeah. Lisa drew up the models, and Doc built it. It came out pretty neat, I think.”

“It did, yeah. I like the melting feature—there won’t be ice-streaks all over the city.” He laughed. “Of course they’re gold—Lisa’s choice, I’m sure.”

“Naturally.” Len shrugged. “You can’t take the Gold out of the Glider, I guess. Not completely.”

“No, I guess not.” Barry leaned his head on his palm, elbow on the table.

The newly-branded Citizen Cold raised a brow and put his phone away. “Something on your mind, Barry?”

He shrugged. “Iris came to talk to me today.”

“What about?”

“She said that we flirt a lot when we’re in the field.” He scrunched his nose. “I told her she was crazy, and she looked at me like I was an idiot…not unlike you’re looking at me right now, Len—what the hell?”

“Barry,” he said quietly, slowly, “I don’t know how to break this to you, but almost everything we say to each other is banter…which is a form of flirting.”

“But—But,” Barry sputtered. “But!”

“What’s wrong, Scarlet?” Len teased. “Can’t keep up?”

He frowned, almost pouting. “You never said anything,” he accused.

The other man shrugged. “I was told not to.”

“By who?”

“By you. Older you—The one who brought me back. He said you had to figure it out on your own.”

Barry stammered again, arms flailing. “What the hell!” he said, frustrated. “That’s stupid!”

“You’re calling yourself an idiot?” Len clarified.

“Yes! I’m an idiot, now, but like—that’s just stupid.” He sighed. “I mean, I guess it makes sense to keep the timeline the way it should be. But still.”

They were both quiet for a long minute. Long enough for a waitress to come by and take drink orders and then bring them back.

Once she disappeared, Barry took a sip of his soda and then suddenly blurted, “Will you go with me to Jesse’s party on Earth-2 this weekend?”

Len raised a brow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“It’s just a party, Len,” he said with a grin. “All our friends will be there, and we can be together without doing the awkward first-date thing…I mean, we already did a lot of that without realizing. Unless you want to…”

There was a pause as he thought about it, enough to make Barry almost panic, but Len nodded slowly. “Alright. But I have two requests.”

“Shoot.”

“One: If Caitlin makes her Speedster Alcohol, you have to stop drinking at least two hours before we leave. I want you sober when we head out.”

“Why?”

“Because, two: I want to go for a walk. We’re not doing the first-date-awkward dinner thing, and movies aren’t something we have time for, but we can go for a walk and talk about things.” A pause. “It’s important, to me.”

Barry thought about this, about what it might mean, but he didn’t see a reason to say no. Besides… “That sounds nice. Okay. I won’t drink too much, and I’ll stop before we leave so we can go talk. It’s a deal.”

“It’s a date, Scarlet.”

“A date, Cold.”

[starlightinhumanform]

Strong As The Sun

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Analogicality 

Summary: It’s Roman’s last summer before going off to college; he should be spending it hanging out at the beach and having fun. Instead, he is wasting his time away beneath the eye of his cruel manager and behind the counter of the local fair’s Help Center. His day gets a little more interesting when Virgil Sanders collapses into his arms.

Warnings (in order of strength): Moderate language throughout, Description of physical illness throughout, Not panic but Virgil does get pretty upset a couple times. Please tell me if anything needs to be added.  Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Human AU 

A/N: -The Dragon Witch is Ms. Drakon -Because of his anxiety, Virgil clings to ‘comfort items’ (in this case, his hoodie) And lastly: I am not a medical professional!! This is all based on my own experiences with heat exhaustion and may not be entirely accurate. If you are ever in a situation like this, don’t be like Roman! Get some help!  Hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link   Fic Masterpost   Fic Request Info

Roman couldn’t put his finger on the reason he loved his job so much. Maybe it was the suffocating heat that made him sweat so much his hair was consistently ruined by the end of every shift. Or maybe it was the entitled older folks who would yell at him for doing what his manager told him to do. It could have been the way his manager yelled at him for... doing exactly what she had told him to do. The best part was definitely the smell- a magical combination of cheap grease, sunscreen, animal waste, and a good amount of human waste.

Yeah, ok, his job sucked. Standing at the help desk of a local fair for 12 hours everyday was not exactly Roman’s ideal summer plan. It was his last summer before college; he should be getting toned from surfing at the beach all day where he would inevitably find his dream man and they would live happily ever after.

“Roman?! Did you hear a word I just said?”

Roman jerked his head up from where it had been resting in his hand (the perfect position for daydreaming himself away from this hell) and tried to look alert, “Yeah, sure! Of course!”

His manager scowled at him from across the counter. She looked like what would have happened if Snow White had made some sort of pact with the evil witch- sickly pale skin, blood red lips, and smooth black hair that never had a strand out of place. She tapped her nails against the desk and raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow, “Well, in that case, could you repeat it to me?”

“No, Ms. Drakon,” Roman hung his head, hoping his pathetic act would earn him some crumb of pity.

His manager just rolled her eyes, turning around and glaring at him over her shoulder, “I was saying you need to do a better job of looking enthusiastic- more ready to help. If you don’t, well just remember: there are plenty of other desperate teenagers who will easily take your place.”

The witch stalked away, stopping occasionally to bare her teeth at patrons in substitute of an actual smile. Roman barely resisted the urge to flip her off but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He was positive at this point that she had eyes in the back of her head.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and standing up straighter in an attempt to look more “enthusiastic”- or at least awake. Drakon might have been the epitome of evil, but she was right. It would be as easy as snapping her fingers to have Roman fired and replaced. And that was not something he could afford- literally.

Roman shoved the thoughts aside as a family walked up. He saw so many of the same groups over and over again that they all started to blend together. This one was no different- a loud, angry straight couple surrounded by a horde of unruly children.

The man slammed his fist down on the counter as he approached and Roman plastered on a smile, “Hi sir! How can I help you?”

Yep. Today was going to be fun. It was only noon and he had already a) gotten puked on by a little kid, b) had nearly been fired, and now c) yelled at because apparently the carnival games were arranged incorrectly and it was somehow his fault.

Roman spent the next two hours trying not to space out but it was so hard when he wanted to be anywhere else. He decided he was never going to a fair ever again. Ever. Unless it was with a boyfriend. Who he would win a bunch of prizes for. And take selfies with while they ate matching cotton candy. And they would ride the Ferris wheel together and kiss at the top. Hmmmm, so maybe he would never go to a fair ever again unless certain requirements were met.

If only his Prince Charming could come along now, jump over the desk partition, reach for Roman’s hand, and whisk him away to some place that had air conditioning. He would be tall, muscular, with a strong jawline, and-

“Excuse me?”

Roman glanced down, trying to find the kid who was trying to get his attention.

“Up here?”

He moved his gaze upwards to find a guy about his age wearing a dark hoodie with his hands shoved in his pockets. Not surprisingly, he looked like he was dying from the heat.

“Oh sorry. I thought you were,” Roman waved his hand at his knee, “small.”

The stranger grimaced, “Gonna try not to be insulted by that.”

“Anyways... how can I help you?” Even though the statement was built into Roman’s subconscious script, he really did mean it. The boy kept swaying and Roman wasn’t sure if it was some kind of nervous fidget or because he was actually about to pass out.

“Yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m just kinda- my head-“ He ran his hands through his hair, “Basically I lost my group and my phone is dead and I have no idea where they are and-“

He tried to take a step forward but stumbled, gripping the desk for support. Roman’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He swung open the little shack’s gate and began leading the boy back to the shade of the awning, one arm swung around his chest to support him.

“I’m fine, really,” He tried to protest but used Roman as crutch as if this was A Christmas Carole and he was Tiny Tim.

Roman snorted as he latched the gate shut behind them, “You’re not ‘fine’- you can barely walk.”

Roman set the boy down on the rough floors, concerned by how hard he was breathing. He grabbed a water bottle from beneath the counter and offered it as he squatted down. This close, Roman was able to get a better evaluation his guest.

The good news: the heavy darkness beneath his eyes was eyeshadow- not some sort of bruise or dark circles that were so bad they could be seen from three feet away. The bad news: basically everything else. His breathing was labored. His face was deathly pale- nearly gray- and beaded with sweat. His black skinny jeans, heavy boots, and oversized purple hoodie were ideal for perhaps a light rain in mid October; at a fair during the sadistic month of July, the outfit looked nearly deadly.

Roman chewed the bottom of his lip. He really wasn’t trained for this sort of thing. His job was to look cute at the entrance and tell people where they could find the petting zoo. But he couldn’t just turn this guy away, “Look, you can stay here as long as you need but if my boss sees you, I’m dead so just try to stay low or something.”

The boy had been gulping down the water bottle but froze suddenly. His eyes widened and he started scrambling to get up. His feet scrabbled beneath him like a puppy who wasn’t used to their legs yet.

“Hey, hey, stop!” Roman hissed under his breath, trying to avoid making a scene, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble. It’s better if I just go,” The boy stopped struggling and stared at Roman with eyes the size of a small planet. They were blue, so deep and dark they almost looked purple. Beneath them, the messy eyeshadow was smudged by what Roman realized were tear streaks.

“Shut up, Emo. I’m not going to let you leave until I know it’s safe,” Roman reached out, brushing his thumb across the boy’s cheekbones to wipe away the dark trails the makeup had made.

The boy looked confused but didn’t try to duck away from Roman’s touch, “What are you doing?”

Roman drew his hand back and stared down at it. He felt just as confused as the boy looked. What was he doing? He huffed out a laugh, “I- I’m not sure. I don’t think either of us are thinking very clearly right now.”

Across from him, the boy bowed his head down so Roman couldn’t see his face and started drinking from the bottle again- less desperately this time. Roman got the feeling the conversation was over.

He stood up and shifted so he was more centered at the desk, “I have to look like I’m actually doing my job, but tell me if you need anything. Try to, uh, cool off or something. I’ve got plenty of water bottles over here.”

“Virgil.”

“I’m sorry?” Roman turned to face the shadow of a human in the corner of his shack. The boy was trying to take up less space, but his  lanky legs made it hard to curl up.

“My name is Virgil.”

Roman smiled, “Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Roman.”

Virgil nodded as if Roman had given the correct answer and was allowed to go back to his job.

The next hour passed sluggishly. Roman told six separate women asked where the bathrooms were but he could swear they were all the exact same person. He saw the girl who ran the lemonade stand spit into a drink at least twice. At some point, Virgil fell asleep, the back of his head pressed against the gate and his neck bent at an angle that would probably hurt when he woke up. His breathing was still a worrying rasp and Roman couldn’t help but glance over towards Virgil’s corner whenever he got the chance.

Three o’clock rolled in like it didn’t want to come. Roman slammed down his sign that read “I’m On Break Right Now!! I’ll Be Back In A Few Minutes :)” and dared the Karen who was marching toward his stand to take another step forward.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he ducked onto the floor and grabbed another water bottle as he scooted next to Virgil. This close, Roman could feel tremors that were running through Virgil’s body.

“Hey buddy, wake up,” Roman shook Virgil’s shoulders gently, wincing at the heat that radiated through the thick sweatshirt.

Virgil’s eyes blinked open slowly, glassy and unfocused. He searched around the small space before his gaze settled on Roman, “Where am- oh that’s right. I’m still here?”

Roman couldn’t explain it but something about the venomous disappointment in Virgil’s voice hit him in the chest. He shook the feeling away quickly when he remembered what was going on, “You’re burning up. I want you to drink some more water. And I think you’re going to need to take off that sweatshirt.”

Virgil collapsed in on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest and pressing himself against the side of the shack, “I don’t want to take it off.”

Roman could feel his eyebrows scrunching together by their own accord, “Why not?”

Virgil just shrugged and looked away which perfectly conveyed the message of I know exactly why and I’m not going to tell you.

“Ok, ok, whatever. It’s not like that stupid hoodie is seriously damaging your health or anything.”

Virgil flopped his head to the side to glare with two ice-cold flames. Roman got the feeling that if Virgil had more strength, he would’ve gotten slapped.  

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for options. It’s not like he could force Virgil to take the sweatshirt off- that would be weird for anyone. Besides, he still hardly knew this kid. Maybe he refused to take the hoodie off because he had some giant tattoo from a gang. Did gangs get tattoos? Like the dark mark from Harry Potter? Roman was getting sidetracked and Virgil looked like the type of person who rarely left his house. Ok so definitely not the type to join a gang.

But the fact that they hardly knew each other still stood. If he pushed it too far, he would be crossing about twenty boundaries. On the other hand, Virgil was looking worse and worse by the second. In the space of a few blinks, his expression had faded from a glare to half-lidded stupor.

Roman grimaced as he pressed the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. His bangs were damp and his skin felt like a hot pan just off the stove. Roman brushed his hand upwards, combing his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil’s gaze flicked over to meet Roman’s eyes, unfocused and filmy. But within those eyes, swimming in the purple beneath, Roman could see so much emotion, it almost hurt to look at.  Those eyes pleaded with him, so full of fear.

Roman sighed. He simply couldn’t say no that stare, “Yeah ok. You can keep the damn thing on. But we need to figure out a way to get your fever down.”

Virgil slumped sideways into Roman, pressing into him instead of the wall. The chills running through his body were so strong that Roman almost wondered if they were contagious somehow. He snuggled further against Roman, his head pressing into Roman’s shoulder.

Roman didn’t know what to do. What he wanted to do was wrap his arms around this strange little shadow and never let go. In reality, though, even this much contact was probably worsening Virgil’s temperature.

“Hey,” Roman shook Virgil’s far shoulder slightly to get his attention, “I had an idea. Would you be ok with just unzipping your hoodie? You wouldn’t have to take it off!”

Virgil responded by wrapping himself around Roman’s arm like some baby marsupial, “Too tired. Just wanna sleep.”

Roman could hardly hear Virgil’s muttering through the material of his own shirt. He sighed, “Yeah. Well too bad. Will you please just keep yourself from dying?”

“Ti-r-ed,” Virgil drew out the vowels like a whiny little kid.

“What- do you want me to do it?” Roman huffed out an exasperated laugh.

Against him, he felt Virgil shrug, “Sure.”

“Oh,” Roman hadn’t been expecting that answer. He had asked as a joke after all. Virgil had made such a big deal about keeping the sweatshirt on that Roman felt that he was crossing a line by even touching it.

Roman untangled Virgil’s arms for his and propped him against the wall. The boy moved as if he were a rag doll in Roman’s hands and it was nearly enough make Roman queasy. He scooted over so he was facing Virgil.

He watched him with those big eyes. Big, soft eyes. They carried so much uncertainty, always tracking Roman’s movement without ever shifting their gaze. But they held the weight of trust as well- feeling safe despite not knowing what Roman was going to do. Roman glowed under the trust, feeling like he had been awarded a treasure few could even find. At the same time, he was positive he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know if he was doing the right things. How could Virgil seem so certain that Roman would help him if even Roman didn’t know that?

Roman reached forward, hands freezing as they hovered over the zipper that hung just below the dip of Virgil’s collarbone. This was weird. He knew these were “special circumstances” but still... it was weird. Roman cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry, this is just kind of awkward.”

Virgil mustered another glare, less deadly this time but still managing to clearly convey the message of Stop being such a useless gay.

Roman cleared his throat again. He probably sounded like he was developing a case of pneumonia, “Right. Sorry.”

Said useless gay took a deep breath and pulled the zipper down. Underneath, Virgil was wearing a plain black muscle tank to match the rest of his dark outfit. Roman had to give him credit for committing so strongly to the aesthetic. A part of him was still surprised that Virgil’s hoodie wasn’t hiding some kind of green alien body.

“Surprised I’m not some kind of green alien?”

Roman realized he had been staring and immediately tried to find something else to look at. His brain apparently decided that the best solution was to reread the safety rules posted on the back wall. He could feel a blush rising to his face and he was pretty sure it had something to do with the way the tank top dipped lowly across Virgil’s chest and hung across his delicate collarbones.

Roman nearly started laughing at himself out loud. He sounded like a repressed Victorian maiden. What he going to do next? Maybe he would stomp his feet and start chanting Show me your ankle! Show me your ankle!

“Hey, help me with this?” Virgil’s strained voice brought Roman’s attention swinging back to the real world. He was trying to shrug the sweatshirt off his shoulders while still trying to move as little as possible.

Roman reached out again, probably too quickly. He was acting so strange. He wished his hands would stop shaking so much.

“Oh, Roman?” A sugar-sweet, poisoned voice floated into the shack just as Roman managed to get the last sleeve past Virgil’s elbow.

“Shit,” Roman hissed under his breath, “That’s my manager.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide but Roman didn’t have the time to reassure him. He threw the nearest thing over Virgil which happened to be a beach towel from the lost and found. It probably wouldn’t help his temperature at all, but at least Ms. Drakon wouldn’t see him.

Roman pulled out his winning grin as he stood up, “Why, hello, Ms. Drakon!”

She responded with an equally bright mouthful, but Roman wouldn’t dare to call it a smile, “Roman, it seems you have quite a crowd beginning to build up!”

He glanced over and suppressed a groan as he saw the trail of unhappy looking people that glared at him from an ever-growing line. He turned his attention back to Drakon, pointing down to the sign propped on the counter, “Yes, ma’am, I see that. I will make sure that they are all satisfied as soon as my break is over.”

Her eyes wrinkled as her mouth widened, but there was nothing friendly about them, “I think you’ve been on break long enough.”

“Yes, of course!” In Roman’s head, a large anvil had just landed on Drakon’s head.

Drakon disappeared into the crowd and Roman turned to the daunting line in front of him. The snake was headed by a group of 12 year old girls. They were easiest type to deal with. Bless their boyband obsessed hearts- they were probably the only reason the counter hadn’t been broken down by a mob of angry middle aged women with expired passes. He gave them a wink, “I’ll be with you ladies in a minute.”

Judging by the giggles that erupted as he sank down behind the counter, he had bought himself a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Roman was trying to be quiet but he was surprised at how soft his voice came out.

He pulled the towel away to find Virgil fast asleep. His breath was definitely starting to even out. The stupid hoodie pooled around him, still attached at the wrists. A tiny hint of a smile tugged at one side of his lips.

Roman ruffled his hands through Virgil’s hair, “Hang in there, buddy.”

He twirled around as he stood up, adding a little more dramatic flair than needed. He flicked the sign down with one finger. The smile he beamed at the crowd was genuine; this time he had something to smile about- even if he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Another hour passed by with all of the ease of a root canal. A person told him they wanted a discount because their child had found a dead rat in a trash can. Roman tried to explain that it was a good thing it was in a trash can instead of anywhere else. The lemonade girl flipped someone off. She was Roman’s hero.

Virgil only began stirring by the end of it, blinking his eyes open like a owl in daylight. He looked around the shack like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes were sharper than Roman had seen them before, glittering like obsidian now that they could focus.

Roman tried his best to concentrate on the customer in front of him, but he kept glancing back and grinning at Virgil. It was nice to see him looking more like a human and less like a very unhealthy zombie.

For what seemed like an eternity and a half, the customer refused to leave. Finally Roman made an under-the-table deal consisting of extra arcade tickets and a free voucher for lemonade just to get rid of them. He hoped the lemonade got spat in.

“Coast clear?” Virgil’s small voice came from what Roman had officially began calling Virgil’s Corner. He sounded different- probably because he wasn’t fighting for his life. His voice was still low, but the gravel in his tone sounded far more intentional and less like Holy shit I can’t breathe.

Roman turned around and leaned against the counter, “Ah! Sleeping Beauty awakes! How are you feeling?”

“Would I sound ungrateful if I said I feel like shit?”

Roman made an exaggerated act of thinking about it, “Just a little bit. But also honest.”

Virgil nodded and then looked down at the ground, letting a beat of silence fall between them. Roman got the feeling that Virgil had something to say, but they both had to wait for it to arrive.

Virgil began pulling the hoodie back up around his hunched shoulders, eyes still burning holes through the floor of the stall.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roman sunk down to the floor, “Don’t put that thing back on. I just got you breathing right again- don’t make us start over from square one.”

He placed his hand against Virgil’s forehead again, “You still feel kinda overheated to me so-“

Roman stopped speaking as Virgil flinched away from the touch. His eyes darted around as if they couldn’t find a single safe place to land. He pulled his arms and legs in, tense and ready to- to do what, though? He looked like he wanted to hide, and run, and fight all at the same time. Virgil had quickly transformed into a cornered wild animal.

“Virgil, what’s wrong?” Roman spoke as softly and slowly as he could but tension was mounting within him as well. Had he done something wrong? Was Virgil hurt?

“They didn’t ask about me, did they?” Virgil spoke as if he didn’t want is voice to be heard.

“I’m sorry, who didn’t ask about you?”

“My group. The ones I came with. They both wear glasses and have brown hair and one’s shorter than the other and the taller one has freckles and was wearing a black button down and the other was wearing a blue shirt and- and,” Virgil’s voice broke and Roman’s heart along with it, “-and they’re my best friends.”

Suddenly Roman remembered the reason Virgil had shown up at his desk in the first place. It wasn’t the heat exhaustion- he had gotten lost.

Virgil succeeded in wrapped himself up in his sweatshirt. He curled into a tight ball, knees pulled against his chest and eyes just barely peeking above top of them.

“Hey, well, they’re probably looking around the fair for you. A lot of people don’t even know about my dumb little shack here! They’ll turn up eventually.”

Virgil shook his head, “They wouldn’t even look for me. They’ve probably left by now.”

“I really don’t think-“

Roman was cut off by Virgil launching himself onto him, wrapping his arms like a vice around Roman’s chest and digging his face into Roman’s shoulder. Shuddering sobs wracked Virgil’s body, all the panic and pain of today running onto Roman’s shoulder and staining his shirt with dark eyeshadow.

But Roman wasn’t thinking about that. He was hardly thinking at all. Roman was angry. Maybe angrier than he had ever been at that Drakon bitch or any of the customers that screamed at him or the kids who threw things at him or the teenagers who would snicker just loud enough so that he could hear them. That was trivial.

He was so mad. Mad at the pigs who stranded Virgil on his own, who apparently didn’t give a shit about his wellbeing, who made him feel so worthless that his immediate assumption was that they had left him behind.

Roman hoped they showed up. He would rip them to pieces.

He wrapped one arm around Virgil as tightly as he could and cradled the back of his head with his other hand. He didn’t want to let go; he wouldn’t let go. Roman could feel Virgil’s nails digging into his back as he gripped Roman’s shirt in fists.

Roman began rocking gently back and forth, moving his fingers through Virgil’s hair and letting his nails scratch softly against his scalp. Soon, Virgil’s sobs subsided into smaller hiccups. Roman could still feel hot tears soaking through his shirt.

They stayed huddled on the floor for a good minute before Virgil slowly raised his head, “I’m sorry, sometimes I get-“

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” Roman ran his thumb across Virgil’s cheek, brushing away the tears that ran down it. Like this, Virgil’s eyes looked ethereal, two pools of pure enchantment. Roman was sure he could spend the rest of his life memorizing the way the sunlight play against them.

“Excuse me?”

“Shit, shit, shit, damn it,” Roman knew he should have put his do not disturb sign up.

Virgil jerked his head up, “Patton?!”

Roman looked up to see another teenager about his age leaning over the counter. He was wearing glasses and a blue T-shirt with the Humane Society logo.

His face melted into a relieved smile as Virgil stood up, “Thank goodness we found you- we’ve been looking everywhere.”

He wrapped Virgil in a hug as yet another teenager appeared. He was taller, with eyes nearly as dark as Virgil’s, and he looked like he might sit down and begin discussing taxes with you at any moment.

This one nodded, “I created a systematic search pattern to use. Unfortunately, we were not even made aware of this place until a rather rude young lady at the lemonade stand directed us over here.”

The one called Patton let go of Virgil just long enough for the other to give him a quick hug before grabbing him into another embrace, “Oh we were so worried.”

Roman felt a pang in his chest. This was good, right? Virgil was safe now. And obviously his friends weren’t  the monsters Roman had assumed them to be. So it was all good. Yep. Definitely. Totally. Then why did he feel so damn sad?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok,” Roman looked up to see Virgil wiping off his face as the other two fussed over him, “I wouldn’t be though if it weren’t for Roman.”

The more serious one raised an eyebrow, “Who?”

Roman rose up from the ground, feeling sheepish for a reason he couldn’t explain, “Uh, that would be me.”

“Logan, Patton, this is Roman,” Virgil glanced over and gave him a warm smile, “He helped me out in more ways than one.”

Patton pulled Roman into a squeeze, wrapping his arms around his neck in a way that made Roman bend down, “Thank you so, so much.”

Logan took a moment from talking to Virgil in a tone to stare at Roman, “You got him to take off his hoodie?”

Roman escaped from Patton’s reach, “Uh, well, I think he kind of had heat exhaustion-“

Logan turned his attention back to Virgil, “But you don’t take that thing off unless you’re very comfortable with someone or-“

“Or really like them. Yeah, I know,” Virgil stared at the floor, a bright red rising to his face.

“Oh,” Roman wasn’t sure what else to say. He could feel a blush as deep as Virgil’s tinting his complexion.

Logan looked down at a watch wrapped around his wrist, “Thank you for helping our friend, but we really must be going now.”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” Roman nodded, trying to clear his head. The implications of what Logan had said were quickly replaced by gloom.

Roman hoped the sadness sitting in he’s chest like a lead weight didn’t carry into his voice. He swung open the gate and tried for a smile as Virgil stepped past him.

Roman watched as Virgil stepped down into the dirt, probably the last time he was ever going to see him. Roman almost let him get away. Almost.

“Hey, wait!” Roman leaned out and grabbed Virgil’s hand. He reached for his pocket and waved his phone, “Could I get your number?”

Virgil’s jaw dropped, “You had a phone this entire time?!”

Roman blinked dumbly at Virgil as realization hit him, “Oh my god, I did.”

Virgil looked off into the distance as if he  couldn’t process Roman’s lack of brain cells. At long last he began laughing. It started off as a snicker, developing into a full on cackle and finally dissolving into a wheeze. It was one of the ugliest laughs Roman had ever heard and some of the sweetest music he’d ever listened to. Virgil straightened up from where he had collapsed with his hands on his knees, “Oh my god; you’re so stupid.”

Roman felt his heart drop, “So that’s a no?”

“I didn’t say that either,” Virgil took a step forward and snatched the phone from Roman’s still out-stretched hand.

He gave it back after a few seconds of quick typing and seemed to be about to walk away, but froze, staring intensely at something on Roman’s shirt.

“What is it?” Roman craned his neck to find what Virgil was looking at.

“Well you’ve got something,” Virgil leaned forward, poking his hand against Roman’s chest for a moment before brushing it upwards and flicking Roman in the nose, “Right there.”

Before Roman hand a chance to react, Virgil had turned on his heel and was jogging to catch up with his two companions who were chatting at the gate. He watched as the group headed away, focusing on the purple hoodie in the middle until they turned a corner and Roman couldn’t stare anymore.

Heat still beat down from the summer sky, but Roman was sure that the warmth radiating from his chest could rival any sun.

If you want to join my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p

~ @phan-fander ~

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

Hold Me Til Morning

Prompt: “Shh, You’re safe. I won’t let you go.

Jack x Reader 

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nightmares, Language 

A/N: This is my first Jack fic! Also I recently hit 1.7k followers, and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful i am for each and every one of you! I am doing a giveaway to celebrate! All the info can be found at the link below :) 

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Being stuck around the bunker kinda sucks, but I guess that’s the price you pay for being reckless. Damn shapeshifter. At least, the crutches are gone. No more hopping all over the place. You had begged Sam and Dean to let you go with them, even if you just had to sit in the motel room and see no action other than research. Yea, That went over well. About as well as a lead balloon. “Hell no!” 

“Why?” You protested, crossing your arms over your chest. Dean stuck his hand out and pushed against your shoulder causing you to step back to regain your balance. Sharp pain shot to your knee as you foot came down, “ah shit!” 

He raised his brows and pointed, “That’s why!”. You swore your eyes would bore a hole right through him if you glared any harder. “Look, it sucks. I get it. You’ll be back out there in no time, but it’s just too big a risk right now. Let it heal.” 

Sam gave a sympathetic look over his brother’s shoulder, “He’s right. You need to heal up.” 

“Ugh. Fine.” You threw yourself down in the chair by the table. “I’ll be here to answer your every beckon like a freaking secretary.” 

“Y/N-” 

“I know. I know.” You waved them off, “Research is every bit important. Sometimes more important,” Your tone was nothing less than mockery as you sneered out every word. “It saves lives. You’re still on the team.” 

A week later, the phone rang for the millionth time, “What now? So help me god, Sam Winchester, if you woke me up to ask some stupid ass question again…” 

You could hear Dean’s laughter in the background as well as the bitch face Sam was wearing when he spoke, “Actually, we’re headed home. Be there about noon tomorrow.” He paused for a moment, “And we have someone with us.” 

“What? Who?!” You demanded answers, but were met with none. 

“We’ll explain when we get there.” The phone called ended with a click, and only added to your racing train of thought. 

When the door opened the next day,  you damn near competed in the Olympics to get over there to see who the hell they had with them. He was just a boy. Huh? He looked around the room with a child-like wonder. So curious about every little detail, wanting to understand it all, but without any context. His smile was wide and warm when his eyes landed on you, “you must be Y/N!” 

Cutting your eyes at the boys you gave a small nod, “Yea. Who are you?” 

His voice again carried an innocence to it like a child that almost made it eerie, “I’m Jack.” 

Sam stepped forward with what you can only assume was supposed to be a reassuring smile, “Y/N, this is Jack Kline-” 

Your head popped back and your eyes went wide, “Certainly, not Kline as in Kelly Kline. As in the Devil’s mistress, and mother of the freaking spawn of Satan.” 

“I know right.” Dean chimed in, “That’s what I said.” 

Cue the bitch face from Sam, “Look he’s not like his father, and he needs us. Plus, you know, keep ‘em closer and all.” 

“Fine, but it’s your ass Winchester. I want it noted, I was not a part of this!” 

A small giggle slipped from Jack’s lips as he watched you scold Sam, “You’re funny, “Y/N.” 

That was three months ago. It didn’t take long for him to grow on you. For some reason you quickly became his favorite person. He followed you pretty much everywhere, and that’s when Dean had to tell him that bathroom breaks were not a group activity. Which you had to admit was a pretty funny conversation to watch take place. 

The first couple weeks, Sam and Dean were somewhat grateful to have him taken off their hands so they could get some work done. Oh how that was turned on them. You and Jack were just like kids running through the bunker after that. Inseparable. He was quite adorable, and just oh so easy to mold. You taught him everything. Well, all the fun stuff. 

He was your own personal apprentice, ready and willing to help you prank the boys. He did have some questions to begin with. “Wait, won’t this make Dean mad?” 

“Oh, Jack, that’s the point, my dear.” You patted his shoulder gently, “It’s how you show love, Winchester style.” He shrugged and followed you into the elder hunters room trying to stifle a laugh when you attempted to somersault in like a ninja. 

Although he was practically joined at the hip with you, there were still some things that you managed to keep hidden. Mostly the scars years of hunting had etched into you. Not the kind that peppered your skin. No, these scars cut deep. The kind that sit and fester in your mind. The ones that either keep you awake at night, or haunt your dreams. 

You never let Jack see that side of you. You didn’t let him see the broken pieces that threaten to tear you apart. He needed stability. He needed someone to help him cope with who he was. He certainly didn’t need to be scared off by the crap rolling through your head at night, so you locked your door, and hoped to God that he never heard your cries. 

For months that worked, until one night it didn’t. You’d had one hell of a nightmare that left screams ripping from your lungs as you desperately tried to get a grip on reality and drag yourself from the horrors of the dream. Jack heard them from down the hall. Terrified that someone was hurting you, he bolted towards your room. “Y/N!” When he found the door locked, he busted it off the hinges, his eyes glowing a bright golden hue. His eyes fell on your body curled up on the floor by your bed, knees hugged tightly to your chest. “Y/N, Y/N. Are you alright?” You flinched when his hand made contact with your thigh, “Did something hurt you?” 

You finally managed to calm your breathing and answer him, “Yes. A long time ago.” 

“What do you mean?” He was so adorable with the way his head tilted and brows furrowed when he was confused. 

Sitting up , you placed your hand on his cheek, “Jack, I just had a nightmare. It’s okay.” He looked so hurt as his eyes looked over your form, still trying to make sure that you were in fact okay.  “I promise, it’s okay.” 

“Do you have them often? He asked.

Your eyes fell, to the small space in between you. You decided that honesty is important in this relationship. You owed him that much. “Most nights.” 

Jack looked like a puppy that had just been kicked, “I hate seeing you like this!” He was almost borderline angry at this point, “How do I fix it?” 

Oh precious lamb. “You don’t, Jack. It’s a part of a hunter’s life. With what we see they don’t go away just because you don’t like them.” 

He stayed silent for a while as he processed all this. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please don’t shut me out.” 

“What?” You placed a hand under his chin, causing his eyes to meet yours. “I never wanted to keep you out. I just didn’t want you to see this side of me. The side that falls apart.” 

“No more locked doors.” He held out his pinky waiting on you to promise him. You had jokingly told him that pinky promises were the highest form of deals. 

You linked your finger with his, “Okay, but I don’t think I could if I wanted to”, You said looking over at the remnants of your door scattered around the entryway. His eyes apologised for him as they met yours, “It’s okay, Jack. Trust me, it’s not the first or last thing to be broken around here.” 

Two nights later, the nightmares were back. This time however, there were no barriers stopping Jack from racing to your side. He was quickly by your side, wiping tears from your cheeks, “Y/N, Y/N, it’s okay.” 

Your eyes opened to worry etched on his face as he tried to console you. Without a word, you shifted over in the bed. He slid in next to you, and you rested your head against his chest. Your body was still shaking with the aftershocks of the nightmare. Jack hesitantly placed his arms around you as fresh tears began to fall. The nightmare had been about him. You’d lost him. When he felt his shirt start to dampen, his grip got tighter, “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” 

You stayed like that for the rest of the night. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in years. And Jack. Jack was content to just hold you and watch over you. He heard you when you said he couldn’t stop them, but he was determined he was damn sure gonna try. Nothing was gonna hurt his Y/N if he had any say in it.

When you didn’t come out for breakfast, Dean wandered down the hall looking for you. It was unusual for you not to be up and about by then. He stopped just outside your room and looked through the open doorway to find you still asleep, curled up into Jack’s side with him stroking your hair. Dean wanted to fight it, but he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. Even if he wouldn’t approve, he was glad to see you so peaceful.

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[whirlybirbs]

✶ ┈ PART ONE !

summary: the origins of the whole “let’s pretend to be married so the grandmaster doesn’t kill us while we try to get off this floating junk pile to stop your sister from destroying your home” bit. because it’s about time. pairing: fake!wife reader x loki, set in ragnarok. a/n: all the fake!wife reader and loki stuff? here’s 2k of their origin story.                                                  READ PART TWO HERE.

The first time you meet him, he’s tinkering with Erik Selvig’s self autonomy.

(Erik’s your boss -- a nice guy. You like him. Jane does, too. You’re running quantum decay samples for S.H.I.E.L.D. the day Loki crash lands on Earth. You’d thought you were having a bad enough day… and then the Tesseract went and spat out the resident super-villain who later opened the interdimensional front-door for the Chitauri and proceeded destroyed half of New York city. Talk about a bad day.)

The second time you meet him, you have Jane to thank.

She’s clutching the spectrometer with wide eyes and you realize in that moment, this is a lot like getting a text from an ex, except the text is the equivalent of crashing a party via falling through the roof. The Bifrost, a glittering quantum anomaly, allows for a fold in time and space. Cosmic kick-back ripples around an arrival, alerting the various quantum measuring devices in the office. The energy signature is familiar -- it’s Asgardian.

She’s pacing. You hate when Jane paces. It makes you anxious.

“I’ll go,” you offer up, “I’ll go, check out the anomaly, make sure everything’s alright --”

Jane blinks, running a hand through her hair as she chews her lip. She makes a pained sound -- the one of a woman torn between science and the unplanned visit of an ex boyfriend -- before nodding and shoving the hand-held spectrometer your way. She nods, speaking to try and convince herself:

“You’re right. No, totally. You should go. It wouldn’t be good if I saw him and --”

“Yeah, no, fuck that,” Darcy supplies, “He ditched you for space gems --”

“Infinity Stones.”

“Same shit, different name!” Darcy shrieks, “Listen, I love him but god, he needs to get his priorities in order, Jane --”

You nod, shrugging on your jacket and buttoning it. You tuck the device in your pocket after eyeing the projected address: 177a Bleecker Street.

“It’s just across town,” you chide, “I’ll hop over, check it out and call if it’s something horrible like, uh, I dunno? An alien invasion?”

“Oh goodie.”

Jane looks pale. “Tell him I say hi. Er… Maybe don’t. Don’t. I don’t wanna seem like --”

“I’ll feel it out,” you chirp, waving your hands in a gesture for her to calm down, “If he asks, I’ll tell him you’re great.”

“If he asks about me, tell him I’m still single!” Darcy cries as you close the door behind you.

Normal.

Today had been shaping up to be normal.

You’d left your normal apartment, took a normal train ride, got your normal coffee order from the normal place two blocks from the office. You arrived at your normal time, ready for a normal day at work.

And then, Thor and his brother decided to change the trajectory of your day and, subsequently, life.

Here you are, half past noon, being welcomed into the Sanctum Sanctorum by some neurosurgeon-turned-supreme-wizard to see your co-worker’s Old Norse God of an ex-boyfriend.

(You know Thor. You’ve met countless times now; the first time was at Jane’s birthday part two years ago. The night had ended in Jane calling you an Uber back to your own apartment, only after you’d gotten blackout on rum and cokes, and spent three whole hours trying to lift Thor’s hammer. Mew-mew, Darcy had called it. You woke up the next morning with a sore back.)

You’ve clearly interrupted something because aforementioned God of Thunder is on the floor, looking like he might throw up any second. You peer around the man who answered the door, squinting. “Uh...”

“Can I help you?”

“Doctor!” Thor cries with sheer excitement from his place at the bottom of the stairs. He stands slowly, staggering over and welcoming you into a crushing grip. He hugs you like he had at last year’s Christmas party. There’s no love lost. You laugh, clapping him on the back as he lifts you into the air, “It is wonderful to see you! Wizard man, this is my good friend --”

“Stephen Strange,” he juts out a yellow gloved hand out in greeting. You shake it, “You must be one of Jane Foster’s associates, then.”

Stephen Strange is an odd one. You can’t help but note the ever-so-faint fluttering of his cape. You realize there’s no wind. You opt not to say anything, just smooth down your scarf and shift from one heeled boot to the other as you exchange looks between the wizard and the God. You push your glasses up your nose as you introduce yourself.

“Just doing my usual quantum disturbance welfare checks,” you say as Thor places you down. You wave the hand-held measuring device in your hand, “Someone had to come and make sure it was Thor and not some eight-legged horse looking to stomp all over Times Square.”

Thor grins.

Stephen smirks.

“How is Jane?” Thor asks quietly, his hand gentle on your shoulder, “Well, I hope?”

“Oh, you know,” a soft shrug, giving him a so-so gesture as you wince, “Breakups suck.”

He gets this look on his face -- it’s a mixture of regret and longing and you know Jane’s decision for space has been as much as a blow to him as it was to her. Jane, selfless as always, knew he needed to focus on his current mission more than her. She’d never forgive herself if she kept pulling him from his search for the stones. Thor sighs, clearing his throat as he nods.

“I, uh, I agree,” he speaks softly, “Please, do tell her I wish her well in all her… science endeavors.”

“Of course,” you say with a smile, “Speaking of which… what’s with the drop-in?”

Stephen’s brows raise and he sighs. “He’s looking for his father.”

Your face twists into confusion. “Odin? What, is he, like, missing?”

Thor’s posture shifts then and he rolls his eyes. Annoyance floods the blonde’s shoulders and he shakes his head. His nostrils flare. “Loki dropped him here on Earth.”

You recoil. “Loki…? Isn’t he --”

“Dead? I thought so as well, but no, the snake has been masquerading as my father on Asgard for the last two years,” Thor supplies, “Speaking of which…”

Stephen jumps. “Oh, yeah, right.”

The second time you meet him, he lands at your feet with a loud groan and a bad attitude.

“I have been falling! For thirty minutes!”

You yelp, hand flying over your mouth at the sudden appearance of the man you’d watched on CNN wreak havoc on NYC. He hits the floor with a resounding thud! and looks… less imposing now, flat on the floor with wild black curls flying about. He’s swathed in a well-tailored black suit and you can’t help but think he’s the exact opposite of Thor. The God of Mischief pushes himself upwards, eyes wild with anger.

Thor hides a chuckle at his brother’s expense.

You blink with wide eyes between Strange and Thor, wondering why the hell no one seems to be as off-put as you are.

“Do you just…?” you make the same sort of gesture Stephen had just made to open the portal Loki had fallen out of with a confused look on your face, “Do that normally?”

A shrug.

He turns to Thor then, shaking hands and gesturing once more to sling open another portal.

“I trust you can handle it from here,” Stephen says to Thor, “Good luck.”

This portal, unlike the one Loki had fallen through, overlooks the ocean. You can smells the sea breeze and hear the whisper of tall grass waving in the wind. You feel a bit like you’ve opened a book in the middle of a chapter -- you’re not sure what the hell is going on and before you can ask, Loki is honing in on you like a predator his next meal. He’s standing before you, leering with an angry look that should have probably sent you for the hills.

Instead, you pull another face.

“What is this? A wretched little pest, here to help?”

“Brother --”

“Have we met?” Loki sneers, lip curling as he hisses, “Or do you simply bear resemblance to every other disgusting worm on this planet?”

You push your glasses up again. Suddenly, you’re away of the behavioral tango you’re locked in. It’s like a psychological game of chess. You decide to move your pawn.

“We have, actually,” you chirp with an uncanny amount of unamusement. Thor’s eye twitches behind you, “You tried to blow up my lab station…?  But, uh, I doubt you probably remember that, huh? Yeah, you were, uh, kinda busy terrorizing my boss and half the other staff on call… No, no, I get it. I’ve gotten a haircut since, so --”

“Doctor, please, ignore him --” Thor tries, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, you’re one of Selvig’s wenches then.”

That doesn’t get the rise out of you that Loki had predicted. You frown, hands in your pockets. Your body language is guarded. Loki’s lip twitches.

“That’s an awfully misogynistic thing of you to say.”

There’s a glimpse of a recoil in his eyes at that. He takes a step forward, as if to challenge you -- to which Strange clears his throat. The game is stopped, if only for a moment, and Loki’s anger is redirected towards the wizard with a new-found malice.

“And you must be the second-rate sorcerer --”

You move, hand planted on the chest of the God of Lies as he shoves past you. He steps on your toes then, scuffing your shoes and you groan -- shoving him backwards with an annoyed cry. Thor makes a face, hands moving to try and pull you from the path of his brother.

“Hey, God of being-an-asshole, do you mind?”

“Move, bug, I have a pig to gut --”

“Alright, nope, bye-bye.”

Thor’s too late and you’re thrown through the portal. The ground is yanked out from underneath you like a tablecloth is yanked out from under a tea set. The flick of Strange’s wrists sends you careening into the grass on the other side of the portal. Loki lands, quite literally, on top of you a moment later, knocking the wind out of both of you. He groans, only to be cut off by your hands shoving him off as you try to roll as far away from the trickster as you can. Loki curses, annoyance boiling over --

And then Thor calls his name.

Today is not normal.

Before you can ask how the hell you’re going to get back to your New York office building, you’re painfully aware of the weight of the situation at hand. If someone told you you’d watch the two crown princes reconcile with their father that day, you would have laughed in their faces… Mostly since this is not reconciliation. Loki looks broken at the mention of his mother. Thor is in the midst of trying to work out the possibility of having a sister when Odin flutters to the wind in golden glimmers. There’s an electric threat in the wind.

In Odin’s absence, centuries of anger comes to a head.

You’re there, stepping between the brothers --

“This is your doing --”

“I had no hand in this --”

Hela arrives on the roll of thunder, and you realize quickly that this is all very much above your pay grade.

Normal.

Today had been shaping up to be normal.

And then, you were shoved out of the Bifrost by green gilded hands amidst fleeing the Goddess of Death’s claws -- the last thing you see is a twisted look of shock on Thor’s face as you’re sent careening through rainbow light. The Bifrost shatters around you like ice and you’re sent tumbling through the universe, the weight of the situations terribly apparent as you spin and spin and spin and spin and fall.

The second time you meet Loki, he throws you out of a glimmering quantum anomaly in an attempt to save himself.

[theasgardianbuckylaufeyson]

Marvel Preferences~ They ask you out

AN: Bucky’s is pretty lengthy compared to the rest so be prepared

Tony Stark: The meeting between you and Tony went off without a hitch, which meant that you both were now partners and would be seeing a lot more of each other. You weren’t going to complain about that fact since you had begun to take quite a liking your business partner. And from the constant flirting you would say that he had taken a liking to you as well. Today was no different than any other day that you were meant to meet Tony, you met at Stark Tower at noon for what was supposed to be a business meeting. Only when you arrived you weren’t even given the chance to enter the building since he was stood out front, a mischievous smile etched across his face.

“I thought we had a meeting today,” you call out as you approach the man.

“Well I thought we could have lunch instead,” he retorts pulling a single rose from behind his back.

Stopping in your tracks you eye the man before you, “Was that your way on asking me on a date?”

“That depends on if it worked or not,” he replies offering you a lopsided smile that early causes your heart to burst.

“Oh it definitely worked Stark,” you state approaching him and retrieving the rose from his hands.

Steve Rogers: Two weeks after meeting Steve at the park near your house you began taking your dog to the park every morning just to see the man again. Eventually what started out as an accidental meeting turned into a morning routine. You would bring your dog to the park to play with him before work and a few minutes after you showed up Steve would jog through the park towards where your were with Y/D/N to join you for a game of fetch and some conversation. Today was different though, when you arrive at the park Steve was already seated on the bench near your usual spot wringing his hands in his lap as if he was nervous,

“Hey, you’re here early,” you state greeting the blonde with a warm smile.

“Hey- uh yeah, I just had some stuff on my mind,” he forces out causing you to worry.

“Anything I can help with?” you question as you retrieve a ball from your purse and toss it for your dog to fetch.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Okay. What is it?” you ask him curiously as you take a seat on the bench as well.

“Well uh. I was wondering if you would want to see each other somewhere besides at the park every morning. Like maybe a movie or something?”

“Like on a date?” you question as a smile grows on your face.

“It doesn’t have to be a date if that’s not what you want,” he says taking your question as rejection.

“I would love to go on a date with you Steve.”

Bucky Barnes: Since he ran out that day at the Smithsonian Bucky has not been able to get you out of his head. Every day since he spent searching articles about himself in hopes of finding the girl from the museum’s story as best as he could with his limited technology knowledge. After numerous dead ends Bucky decided to seek out the help of Clint hoping that his spy skills would help with the search. He happened to be right too because two hours later Clint appeared with a laptop that illuminated with a black and white photo of the girl from the museum.

“This your girl?” He asks the super soldier who can only manage a nod in response.  

Removing the laptop from Bucky’s line of sight Clint clicks a few things before handing the laptop back to him. This time there is a vintage picture of himself on the screen along with an article.

As Bucky takes the laptop from the assassin's grasp he mumble’s a, “thank you,” before instantly beginning to instantly read the article about what he went through in his life.

When he was done there were unshed tears welled up in his eyes waiting to be shed .He wanted nothing more than to meet you so he could thank the women who touched his heart in such a way, but sadly he had no clue who or where you were.

Some time later Clint made his way back into the room to find Bucky still staring at the laptop, “So, was it what you were hoping for?” he asks causing Bucky to jump.

“Yeah,” Bucky says with a sigh, “now I wish I hadn’t run off though on here back there. Maybe then I would know where I can find her.”

“Have you thought about going back to where you first met?”

“Why would she be back there, she said that she was there for the article in the first place.”

“It’s just a hunch, you don’t have to actually listen to me,” the man replies before leaving the super soldier to his thoughts once again.

The next day Bucky woke up bright and early so he could head to the same museum he went with Steve to all those months ago in hopes of seeing her. It seemed like the attraction wasn’t as popular in the morning because when Bucky arrived a short time later there were only a few other people around, though none of them happened to be the girl Bucky was looking for.

Three hours into wandering the Captain America exhibit Bucky spotted a familiar looking Y/H/C walking towards where they first met. Without hesitation the super soldier heads in the same direction. As you come to a stop in front of his section he knows for sure that it is you.

He doesn’t hesitate to walk up to you this time though since he’s afraid if he waits a second longer you’ll disappear.

“I was hoping I’d find you here,” he states with a sigh causing you to jump slightly and glance over at him though it’s a quick glance.

“And why would that be?”

“Because, we uh spoke some time ago while you were here for research-” he begins only for you to cut him off.

“Oh you’re the guy who ran off randomly.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says with a chuckle before continuing more seriously, “I actually only left because the subject was kinda personal.”

“How so?” you ask still not looking at the man beside you.

“It’s me.”

You whipped your head towards the stranger beside you so fast he was shocked you didn’t give yourself whiplash.

With another soft chuckle he continues, “And I just wanted to thank you for that amazing piece you wrote on me..Maybe over dinner?”

A bright smile makes its way on your face as you replied, “It’s a date Sergeant.”

Thor Odinson: Since meeting Thor at Tony’s party you found yourself growing closer to the God of Thunder whenever you seen each other at parties, though the interactions never to leave the event. This party you planned on changing that. You wore your favorite dress, the same dress you wore when you first met, and made sure your hair and makeup were perfect before leaving your apartment and setting your plan in motion. Without looking for Thor like you normally would upon arrival you head straight for the bar to order a drink.

You planned on asking Thor on a date outside of Toni’s parties and if you were going to do that you need a little liquid courage. While waiting for your drink your eyes meet Thor’s from across the room, causing a smile to bloom on both of your faces. With a quick wave hello you swivel back to where the bartender is setting your now full glass down.

“Hello lady Y/N,” Thor says appearing beside you suddenly.

You jump in surprise spilling some of your drink on the bartop, “Hi Thor.”

Turning to face him you see he isn’t dressed in his normal Asgardian clothes. Instead he looks to be dressed similar to Steve with a crisp Y/F/C button up causing you to become lost for words and forget your plan completely.

“I must say, you look rather stunning tonight my lady,” the god compliments after letting his eyes linger along your frame.

“Thank you Thor,” you reply with a blush creeping up your face, “You look quite handsome yourself. Is there a reason you’re not in your normal clothes today?”

“Actually yes there is. I was hoping you would be willing to accompany me for a meal sometime, as my way of courting you, and the man of Iron my normal attire would not suffice.”

A giggle of adoration burst through your lips before you can stop it and Thor’s feature drop instantly, “Your normal clothes would have been fine to ask me out in Thor, you explain finally when your giggle subsides.

“Does that mean you wish to be courted by me?”

“Of course it does.”

Clint Barton: You were currently waiting in the training room for Clint to show up for your weekly train session. Since they day you met after taking down Cap and Nat the two of you have been training together once or twice a week in hopes of improving your skill with a bow. You knew how to shoot one when you arrived, but it wasn’t a dead target like Clint so he made it his mission to help you improve your shot. Improving your shot also improved your relationship and before you knew it you had fallen for him though you wouldn’t admit it.

An arrow flying by your face pulled you from your thoughts as Clint called from the dorrway, “If I was a bad shot that would’ve sucked, which is why attention is important.”

“You did not just seriously turn you being late into a lesson did you?” You ask turning to look at him incrediously.

“No. I turned you not paying attention into a lession, me being late was just a part of the plan,” he replies with a smirk, “Now get your bow, we got work to do.”

“Do we really? I mean I’m just as good as you are now,” you tease cusinh a laugh to rip from Clint’s mouth.

“If you think you’re that good why don’t we make this fun.”

“What’d you have in mind?” you ask smugly.

“You make a bullseye we dont have to train for the rest of the week. You miss..” he begins before trailing off to think about it for a minute, “you have to go on a date with me.”

“Deal,” you declare before drawing back your bow and consendtrating on the target.

After a second of lining up your shot you release the arrow and stare silently as it flies towards the board. Only it doesn’t land on the bullseye, it lands a centimeter away causing a smile to light up Clint’s face.

“Well it looks like we’re going on a date.”

“Yeah, it looks like we are,” you reply with a smirk before lining up three more shots and making them all.  

Sam Wilson: Since meeting Sam the two of you began hosting your own session every other week. You both enjoyed helping other and doing it with someone else made things go even better. Today was another meeting for you and Sam so you decided to head to the building the two of you held the meeting in early to set up.

When you arrived Sam was walking towards the entrance already so you decided to call out, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here this early.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you either,” he replies as he waits for you by the door.

“I wanted to get a head start on setting up,” you explain following him down the hallway and two the room you always used.

“Well it seems like great minds think alike. Any reason you wanted to set up early?”

“No. You?”

“Actually, yeah,” he replies with a chuckle, “I wanted to spend some time with you outside of these meetings.”

You look up and offer him soft smile from where you are arrganging chairs accross from him, “If you wanted to hang out all you have to do is ask. I’d definetely say yes.”

“And what would I say if I asked you to hang out as more than friends?”

“Like on a date?” you question causing him to nod slowly.

After a minute of pondering just to mess with him you reply with a smile, “I’d say yes.”

Loki Layfeyson: It took Loki months to warm up and talk to you. At first he thought that you were put down there as a way for his father to get information or whatever it was he needed out of him, but after months of seeing you go through the same procedures the gaurds put him through he realized this was not a ploy. You were indeed a prisoner of Asgard just like him, the only difference being you were not rightfully guilty. So over time the God of Misheif let up with the illusions he used to fool those around him and let you in. The only issue was that Loki began to fall for you overtime and you began to fall for him as well.

The two of you were sat across from eachother on either side of the glass wall seperating you both while you told Loki a story about your trip to Midgard a prior to being emprisioned. As you reached halfway through your story you realized the god was no longer listening though so you stopped ebruptly.

“Loki are you alright? You seem to havezened out,” you call to himworriedly as you begin to wave a hand in front of hi motionless face, “Loki!”

“Sorry darling, I was rather lost in thought,” he apologizes when his brain finally arrives back on Asgard.”

“I can see this..Was it anything you’d care to share?”

“Actually, it’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Okay, go on,” you reply with a nod urging Loki to continue.

“Well it’s not possible for me to court you since we both have uh- prior engagements, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on what Midgardians call a date through our cells.”

“I would love that Loki,” you squeal as a smile blooms on your face.”

Peter Parker: You and Peter were paired together for a science project though you weren’t going to complain. All that meant was the two of you got to spend more time together though so you weren’t going to complain. A few weeks after meeting the nerdy brunette at lunch that day you began to develop feelings for him, which meant you could use this time to grow the courage to tell him how you feel. Over the week you guys had to do the project you and Peter grew closer causing a feeling of dread to fill your stomach as you and Peter sat down for your final session.

“Hey, are you okay?” Peter asks randomly while you guys are putting the final touches on your work.

“Yeah..yeah, I’m totally cool,” you say before taking a deep breath, “I’m just going to miss us

hanging out.”

“What makes you think we have to stop hanging out? We hang out with Mj and Ned all the time.”

When all Peter gets in response is a shrug he sighs and continues his portion of the work. A few minutes pass leaving you to believe the discussion is over only for Peter to speak up again.

“Now I could be reading this totally wrong but you don’t mean hanging out as a group do you?”

The question causes you to freeze momentarily before you regain your composure, “Uh, no..I didn’t mean as a group,” you mumble in response unable to look Peter in the eye from that point on.

“Like as a date?” he inquires hesitantly, almost as if he is as nervous as you are.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“What if I want it to be?” he asks seriously as the two of you put the last piece of your project where it belongs.

Instantly your head snaps up, your eyes quickly scanning his face for any signs that this is a joke, “you’re serious?”

“Well uh- Only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to Peter,” you exclaim as a smile spreads across your face.

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Broken Glass Diamonds; Chapter Three

Word count: 2184

Warnings:

Summary: The year at the hotel continues.

AO3 Chapter One Two

Roman studied the large blackboard. On the plan of the week, they always wrote down not only the date but also how many weeks it had been since the beginning.

Now it read 46.

Forty-six weeks of physical training, first aid, lessons in controlling powers and finding ways out of all kinds of theoretical predicaments. Later the situations would be training simulations and then, maybe one day, they would be real.

They had started out with 200 people and true to what Thomas had announced at the very beginning it had been watered down to 75.

"Are you coming?" Patton's voice startled Roman out of his thoughts. "I already checked. We have free time till lunch."

They wore a dress and had a frog clip in their hair.

The elevator had gotten stuck just a few days ago and had been closed off completely since then so they had to take the stairs up from the basement.

Not-Julian, who still refused to tell Roman his real name, didn't look up from his laptop as they passed him and just gave them a quick wave. The kid looked sickly pale lately but Roman hadn't asked what was wrong. He had been busy and he was pretty sure that the kid wouldn't come to 'work' if he was actually ill.

"I heard there's a shopping mall somewhere around here," Roman mentioned as they stepped outside. "I don't have much money but we could just look around and stuff."

"Sounds great! I'd like to be around other people again," Patton beamed. "I mean - civilian people."

"Yeah, I get it," Roman smiled back at them. "Plus, I haven't seen the news or read a paper in forever. What even happened since we got here? Has the world been taken over by corn - wielding cows in astronaut helmets?"

Patton giggled at his theatrics.

"Why astronaut helmets?" they asked.

"I don't know. Maybe they're alien cows. They came from a galaxy far, far away to conquer Earth because someone send a TV signal out into the Universe and they saw all the alien invasion movies. So they thought it was a party. An invasion party," Roman shrugged.

Patton laughed. "And who send the signal?"

"Mhm. Good question," Roman stroked an imaginary goatee. "NASA? Nah, too obvious. Maybe it was Netflix and they somehow got someone's password?"

They went on like this, Patton asking questions and Roman building out the story of the corn - wielding alien cows in astronaut helmets. Which, by the time they got to the mall, apparently also had a burning hatred for Justin Bieber and an undying love for beagles.

The mall had big windows but a solid roof, much to Roman's relief.

They walked around aimlessly for a while, just looking around and trying on a few things here and there. It was the kind of stuff Roman's friends had tried to get him to do when he was younger but he had never had the time for. But now, as a legal adult, he found that it was actually kinda fun. Especially with Patton,  who switched the green 'they' wristband for the blue 'she' one at about ten o'clock.

"Hey, let's get some ice cream!" Patton suggested and pulled Roman towards the food court.

"I told you I don't really have money," Roman said but let her pull him along anyway. Mostly because he was pretty sure that he couldn't escape Patton's grasp unless she let him.

"I do. I can just pay for you!"

Roman went to protest but Patton didn't let him.

"It's not that much! I really have more than enough to invite my best friend out for ice cream!" she smiled at him over her shoulder and Roman knew that he had lost.

"You can be so stubborn sometimes," he muttered with no real malice behind it, shaking his head and Patton laughed again.

There was no queue by the ice cream parlour since it was still before noon and most people were either still at work or getting actual meals for lunch.

There were a lot more flavours than Roman remembered from when he had been younger. He did his best to ignore both chocolate and banana even if they were the only ones he actually knew.

"What can I get you?" the man behind the counter asked in the most deadpan voice Roman had ever heard. His nametag read Chad.

"Er, I'll take a scoop of cookies with rainbow sprinkles... and what do you want?" Patton played with her wristband.

"The same," Roman blurted out. If Patton ordered it, it couldn't be bad.

"That'll be 3.60$," the cashier said, still without any inflexion and put the first ice onto the counter.

"Hey, we have the same glasses!" Patton noticed excitedly as she pulled out her money.

The cashier looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Roman could tell that the guy was getting feed up with them so he quickly took both ice creams and gently pushed Patton away, only stopping to tell the man to have a nice day. He didn't respond.

The ice was good. Roman closed his eyes and could perfectly picture the small kitchen back at home where he and Remus would steal some of the dough on the rare occasions that Mamá baked. It tasted just like that raw dough and even had some chocolate pieces inside.

"Let's head back," Roman suggested. "So we're not late for lunch."

Patton stopped abruptly.

"Wait! I forgot something!" she handed Roman her cone. "I'll be right back!"

With that, she vanished into the crowd.

Roman stared after her for a moment. She hadn't had a bag with her that she could have left anywhere as far as he could remember and he had no idea what she could have possibly forgotten. Had she wanted to buy anything that she just hadn't mentioned?

With nothing better to do Roman licked off some of his sprinkles and chewed on them.

A few minutes later Patton appeared again with a small paper bag under her arm.

"Sorry I made you wait," she smiled apologetically and took her own cone back.

"It's fine," Roman shrugged. The question of what was in the bag burned on his tongue but he didn't ask.

Patton took ahold of his now free hand and together they walked towards the exit they had come in from.

The walk back was mostly silent and Roman finished up his cone just as they arrived outside the hotel. Patton had eaten a bit faster than him.

Someone had apparently oiled the door while they had been gone because it opened easily and quietly. Roman wondered if they had repaired more than that but the one neon light was still broken so he guessed that they hadn't. Baby steps.

Not-Julian didn't look up as they came in. He looked even paler now. Maybe he was sick and just too stubborn to stay at home. It sounded like something Roman would do and - if he was honest - had done multiple times. Except that he had done it because he couldn't afford days off. He was pretty sure that Not-Julian didn't have the same problem.

The next time they got a day off was on Christmas.

They were allowed to go home over the holidays or stay at the hotel if they didn't want that. Naturally Roman chose to go home.

He had enough money for two tickets with him, one to get home and one to get back to the hotel, and Patton had insisted to loan him some to get his Mamá a small present. They had also given him one, with the strict instructions to not open it before Christmas morning.

Roman took the first possible train. It was foggy and smelled like snow. While waiting at the platform he made a small ball fire between his hands to keep himself warm. It had become so much easier to control his flames over the past months.

He wondered if Remus would be there. Most likely he would. Would come back from somewhere and for just a few days they would all be together again and would catch up with each other about everything that had happened while they had been apart.

They train came, Roman got on and just a few minutes later fell asleep.

He woke up just barely before his stop but at least he was awake now. Well, more or less.

The walk from the train station to the apartment building they lived in wasn't very long but as soon as he turned the first corner Roman was made aware of how long he had been gone.

The place where the rundown cinema was supposed to be was empty. Something new was being built in its place but the constructions had barely started with the fundaments.

Roman hadn't know that the cinema would close, let also be torn down. A poster by the sidewalk showed an apartment building with prices. One of the flats that hadn't even been built yet was already sold.

With a heavy feeling in his, stomach Roman continued on.

There were new graffitis on the walls. A new store, selling cigarettes, alcohol and lottery tickets. Too many new things.

The apartment building was the same.

Roman slid his key into the lock and turned it and the door sprung open. The elevator was still full of the same writings and scribbles. The tenth floor, where Roman got out looked as grey as ever.

He pocketed his key and knocked. They had a doorbell but the sound of it gave Mamá headaches.

He heard shuffling and then the door opened.

Mamá wore her old apron, her hair was up in her usual bun and held back by a blue headband with polka dots on it.

"Hola, Mamá," Roman smiled and opened his arms.

"Estás en casa," she enveloped him in a tight hug.

In the kitchen, a timer beeped loudly and demanding and Mamá ushered him inside.

"Your brother will be here in just a few hours," she informed him in Spanish and went to put on her baking gloves. But Roman beat her to it and pulled out the tray barehanded. Another thing he had discovered through the program; he wasn't immune to only his own flames.

For the next hours Roman told Mamá everything while they made dinner.

He told her about the hotel, Patton and how they had become friends, Thomas and the other instructors, Not-Julian and his weird family and everything he had learned.

Mamá listened, asking questions from time to time and smiling at him almost the entire time.

It was already getting dark when Remus came.

He had grown a moustache and a patch of his hair was grey. He grinned at Roman and one of his teeth was missing.

But he didn't talk about where he'd been.

He stuck a toothpick into his gap to find a way that it would stay there but he didn't tell them how he had gotten it.

He joked that now he and Roman finally didn't look the same anymore but didn't give a real answer when Mamá asked why he had dyed his hair, other than claiming that he hadn't.

So Roman continued to carry the conversation during dinner and after until they wished each other goodnight and went to bed.

Christmas itself was almost normal. They exchanged gifts, ate cookies they had baked yesterday and lit candles.

Still, something felt off.

Roman couldn't figure out what was wrong until he stood on the train station again and hugged Mamá goodbye.

The promise of departure.

The fact that no matter what happened they'd have to leave again.

Not-Julian sat on his counter when Roman arrived late in the evening. There was a plate of sweets next to him and a lonely string of Christmas lights had been hung up over the key wall. It looked sad in the otherwise grey environment.

"How were your holidays?" Roman asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Alright, I guess," the teen shrugged. Roman noticed that his voice had gotten a lot deeper. "Babushka couldn't make it because she was the main suspect for the murder of her fourth husband, so that was kinda disappointing. But otherwise, it was okay. Uncail Ronan introduced us to his new partners and they are pretty cool."

Roman stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out whether he was supposed to ask or not.

"How was yours?" Not-Julian asked before he could decide.

"It was nice. I got to see Ma and my brother again," Roman shrugged.

"That's nice," Not-Julian said in a way that Roman couldn't tell whether he meant it or not. "By the way, your friend is here too. Same room as before."

"Really? Thanks," Roman smiled and swiped a chocolate bar in passing. The elevator was still out of commission so he jogged up the stairs and dropped off his bag in his room before going back to visit Patton. He had missed them.

---

So, I'm not completely sure yet, but this might be the last chapter of Broken Glass Diamonds. I might write one more but likely not.

I am not done with the story tho (by far). But since it'd probably get boring to only have Roman's view for the entirety of this story I want you to please comment or send in asks about who's PoV you want to see. Whether to see the story continued from their view (for that only Roman and Patton would currently be options) or to get some more information about them (basically everyone mentioned so far except for the people that die in the first chapter and Remus). Depending on the person some parts might be a bit shorter tho.

Have a nice day!

[sml8180]

Shot at Redemption - 08

I was on a roll, today-

Rest

After staying in Fall’s End for a few days, Rose was starting to relax. Being in town made things a lot easier, especially in terms of getting food, and there were enough people who needed an extra set of hands that she normally had something to keep herself occupied during the day. She was learning the names of a few people who had a fair influence around the town, as well. After almost two weeks, Rose had gotten to know Mary May Fairgrave, the owner of the Spread Eagle bar; Grace Armstrong, a war veteran and Olympic medalist who was well known for her sniping skills; Jerome Jeffries, another veteran who had become a preacher in Fall’s End, before Joseph lead his flock away as he grew his Project. She met a few others, too, like Nick Rye, a soon to be father and pilot, and Hurk Drubman Jr. and Sharky, who were both loud and boisterous, but seemed to mean well, in the end.

With each day that went by, Rose was starting to feel better. The last of her bruises faded, and only the worst of her cuts remained; those would take longer to heal, but they would eventually be gone, themselves. Until then, though, she would likely keep them covered up, especially around the others, to avoid having to answer any questions they might bring up. Overall, things were going well; by the end of the week, she already felt more like herself, and after a second, she was getting to be more active again, helping out more with whatever anyone needed.

It was a fairly nice day out, even with the clouds overhead. It didn’t seem like it would rain, at least. Rose woke up and got dressed, before heading down to have breakfast as she usually did. The B&B owners were a nice couple, starting to get a bit up there, when compared to other residents, but they still got on just fine. After she helped them clear away the dishes, the wife informed her that Jerome might need an extra set of hands down at the church. Thus, Rose had something to do, at least for the next few hours. She made her way to Jerome’s church towards the end of the road. The building was a bit beat up, but considering everything that had gone on, it was in halfway decent shape, aside from the collection of tarps that had been secured over a large hole in the side of the building. Rose never asked what happened, it didn’t really matter to her. Whatever had happened was already done, and the damage patched until things could be settled within the county to get supplies in to repair it properly.

The church doors were open, letting in the warm breeze from outside. Rose approached, coming up the steps and looking around a bit as she slowly entered the building. Jerome was sitting in one of the pews, reading a passage aloud from the bible he had propped up on the back of the pew ahead of him. Or, at least that was what she thought as she entered, hearing the start of a verse her father often used, Jeremiah 23:1,but what Jerome said in the second half wasn’t part of the actual verse.

“Woe to the man who leads my flock astray, says the Lord,” he had begun. “For if I am not their shepherd, then I must be the wolf.”

“Jeremiah 23:1. Not sure of the translation, I don’t remember the verse going like that,” Rose mused. Jerome turned towards her voice, closing the bible in his hands.

“That’s the base of it, but you’re right,” Jerome confirmed, standing and stepping out into the isle between the pews. “Question is, do you remember the actual verse?”

Rose paused for a moment, shutting her eyes as if it would help her recall the words she heard so often growing up. “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of My pasture, declares the Lord.”

“Very good,” Jerome gently praised, his voice holding a hint of surprise.

Rose simply shrugged. “My father’s a preacher back in Maine. There’s a good number of verses he drilled into my head when I was a kid. Kinda surprised I remember as many of them as I do, all things considered. I’m not exactly religious, myself.”

“Oh? Knowing that, I’m a bit surprised. Is there any reason for that? If you don’t mind my asking, of course,” Jerome questioned, as he made his way to the pulpit at the front of the room, setting the bible down on top of it.

“Some of it just seems pretty out there. Personally, I don’t think there’s any kind of God out there, but, for all I know, there could be. Agnostic atheist, here. I don’t believe there’s something there, but I do believe that there’s a chance,” Rose explained. She gave a bit of a shrug as she spoke. Even growing up, Rose hadn’t believed what her parents did, that there was a God with a plan for everybody, but she was willing to believe that there could be something out there. Science and logic hadn’t yet explained everything, after all, and likely never would.

“I can understand that,” the Pastor nodded. “Could you give me a hand with cleaning this up? I’ve been chipping away at it, but there’s a lot to pick up.” He motioned to the broken wood that littered the floor and pews to Rose’s right.

Rose nodded, approaching the mess with Jerome. “That’s different.”

“What is?”

“Your response. My father usually lost it when people found out I wasn’t one for faith, and he and my mother weren’t exactly happy about it, themselves.”

“God calls us to love without exception. If you don’t believe, then that’s what you’ve decided on. Anyone who claims to be of faith but who does not love all is lost, themselves.”

“I’ve never heard it put that way, actually. But, it makes sense. In the end, people will believe what they want, and noone is of any power to try to change that.”

“Exactly.” Jerome smiled a bit, as he and Rose began to clean up some of the wood that had been sitting on the floor.

Rose and Jerome worked for a few hours, moving some of the larger boards that could be salvaged to repair the church off to the side where they would be out of the way, while they gathered some of the smaller pieces to be either used to repair other buildings or burned later and set them in a different area. With a number of the larger pieces gone, the space was already starting to look a little better. Around noon, they decided it was about time for a break, and Jerome lead Rose to his small home beside the church. He had Rose sit down at the table in the kitchen, and he made them each a sandwich, humming quietly as he worked. Soon, he was sitting with her, and after a short grace, they began to eat. They ate quietly, simply enjoying the comfortable silence and each other’s company, until Jerome spoke up.

“You said a while ago that you were in Hope County to get away from things back in Maine. If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly are you trying to get away from?” His question was genuine, and he was careful with how he worded it, as if he didn’t want to come off as judgemental.

“When you’ve got a bad rep in a small town, you can’t exactly get away from it without leaving,” Rose simply answered. “I wasn’t exactly known for being a model citizen back there, and people don’t easily forgive and forget around there.”

“I’m going to guess you had some trouble with the law back then?”

“Yeah. Got arrested a couple times, escorted by police back to my parents’ place who knows how many times, that kinda thing. Family wasn’t too happy about it. They went so far as to put me into basic training right out of high school because I said I wasn’t planning on college. Spent a year in the service, got out, and found someplace else.”

Jerome nodded a bit, letting silence fall again as they finished their lunch. After the dishes were set in the sink, they made their way back to the church to continue working. As the hours went by, they talked about various things; their time in the service, how Jerome decided to become a Pastor, the places Rose had traveled through, really anything that came to mind. They worked until the sun started to set, at which point Jerome bid Rose goodnight, and she made her way back to the B&B.

After eating dinner, Rose was in her room, having taken a shower and put on one of her larger T-shirts for the night. She finished braiding her hair for the night, and was looking through her bag. She had already worked in her journal, and didn’t have much else to add to it. As she went through her bag, her fingers brushed against the soft white leather cover of the Book of Joseph she had, and she sighed, before pulling it out along with her radio. Rose set the radio on the nightstand by her bed, and settled down, her back resting against the pillows as she opened up to her marked page and started to read. Rose’s brain seemed to be in overdrive that night, not wanting to slow down and let her get any rest. As she read the book in her hands, she couldn’t help but think about the brothers. Specifically, she couldn’t keep John out of her mind. As much as Blue irritated her, she couldn’t help but feel like she wanted to learn more about him. Her gaze fell to her radio, time and time again as she tried to focus. After what felt like ages of fighting with herself, Rose sighed, marking her place in the book and grabbing her radio, turning the device on and turning to frequency thirty. As she tuned into the frequency, she caught a voice, just starting to speak.

“Are you there? Where are you? Please answer, Rose.”

Taglist: @deputyoneill @johnseedthot @deputyshitlordsantana @jacobsmusicbox @farcrying5 @johnseedsplane @rookieseed @ignoranttruly

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

  OUR FUTURE WILL BE A BRIGHT ONE: CHAPTER FOUR

                        eremika soulmates through time modern au

                    ( chapter one/chapter two/ chapter three/ ff.net/ ao3)

YOUANFEN

CHINESE; A relationship by fate or destiny, predestined affinity or relationship. The driving forces and causes behind yuánfèn are said to be actions done in previous incarnations

"Meeting your soul mate is like walking into a house you've been in before - you will recognize the furniture, the pictures on the wall, the books on the shelves, the contents of drawers: You could find your way around in the dark if you had to."

― Jandy Nelson, I'll Give You the Sun

Before the clock strikes noon and his morning coffee turns cold, Eren makes a mental list of all the things he has learned about Mikasa after he spent the night in her bed.

There's her surname on top of it and he finds it kinda funny, but she's horrified when he points it out. There's the fact that she comes from Charleston ("I wouldn't take you for a Southern Belle," he says to her and she snorts into her tea. "You mean, I'm not a lady?" she asks with a playful glint in her eyes, which leaves him biting his tongue in a hurry to assure her that yes, of course, she is, indeed, very ladylike). She admits that she had to move to Chicago because her career required that, he tries to show restraint by waiting a full minute before asking what she does for a living.

"Professional gymnastics." She bites on her lips and blushes a little when he whistles, impressed.

"I knew you were fit," says Eren triumphantly and she laughs at that, scrunching her nose up adorably. He wishes he could bottle up this sound and keep it always in his pocket, for rainy days.

"And I do capoeira and ice skating in my free time, just for fun," she adds off-handedly as if she was not honestly-to-God boasting now.

"Show-off," he murmurs under his breath and there's a small smile dancing on her lips as she shrugs.

There's also the fact that she has a cat, which, honestly Eren can't wrap his mind around.

"I've been here whole evening yesterday," he says, bewildered as he watches Mikasa opening the lid of the laundry basket in the bathroom and exclaiming, " There you are!"

"Whole evening and a whole night. And whole morning. And it hasn't left this basket the whole time?"

"She. And no, she's a little bit shy," explains Mikasa, walking out of the bathroom to retrieve a tin of tuna and then tapping her fingers on the lid above the basket. " C'mon girl, say hi."

Eren is not a cat person, not even by furthest stretch ( in fact, he's the opposite of a cat person. He silently thanks all the higher powers that he didn't tell Mikasa any stories from his childhood that included him tormenting his neighbors' fat, nasty tabby. )

But even he has to admit that Mikasa's cat is pretty cute, as much as a cat can be cute. In fact, she looks a little bit like Mikasa herself; small and sleek, gracefully jumping out of the basket onto Mikasa's shoulder and eyeing him suspiciously with her tilted yellow irises.

The cat's name is Madeline which apparently comes from a French cartoon Mikasa was watching as a kid while spending summers at her uncle's in Lyon.

( "French-Japanese American. What a mix. " " Best possible, full German here, nothing interesting." )

The last position on his mental list is that they have a mutual friend, which comes as a surprise to both of them.

"Well. I wouldn't really call Annie my friend," Eren huffs in amusement, putting a framed picture of Mikasa and a petite, blonde girl making silly faces back on the shelf. "But she goes to the same martial arts center as me, so we pass each other all the time, even spar from time to time and I say "hi" to her, so that probably counts for something? My friend has a thing for her, though. He keeps coming over just to stare at her above his textbooks and then denies it ."

Mikasa giggles, taking a sip of her coffee. She seems somehow… calmer, after this night. She woke up radiant in his arms, with the morning light caressing her face, her hair messed up and pillow wrinkles pressed on her right cheek, and the first thing she did was smile at him; she's more talkative now, hence him learning so much about her. And he guesses that this night benefited him too, in a way. Her presence is still intoxicating, but he deals with it better now. Can admire her without agonizing over the need to touch her; actually, listen to what she's saying instead of getting lost in his feelings and babbling like a senseless idiot.

In fact, he has learned quite a lot about Mikasa during this tranquil hour or so, with the quiet conversation over their respective plates and even quieter one that they had on a purely non-verbal basis.

He pays attention to details; to the way she's so still sometimes it's almost creepy, but when she moves, damn, it's like she was dancing. The way she walks and the tilt of her neck; she turns making scrambled eggs into a spectacle.

"If you're good enough in martial arts to spar with Annie and her crazy Muay Thai magic, you should not be impressed with my interests," she points out after a moment of silence, interrupting his (admittedly sappy) train of thought.

"Yes, but I'm not doing capoeira." He takes a bite of his eggs and almost moans (another fact; Mikasa definitely knows her way around the kitchen.) "Or gymnastics, or skating. Those require - you know-" he makes a vague waving gesture with his hand. "All this."

Her eyebrows shoot up and he feels her sudden urge to bark a laugh. At least she seems to be amused with his inability to explain himself.

"Flexibility? Grace?" she adds helpfully and he nods, relieved.

"Yup. Not my biggest strengths."

"Haven't noticed," she deadpans with a tone so serious that it takes him a second to notice the sarcasm.

"Ouch, that was harsh." He groans with theatrical pain in his voice, pressing his hand to his chest, above his heart. "You wound me."

Madeline chooses this moment to jump on the kitchen table, meowing impatiently until Mikasa feeds her a piece of toast and Eren realizes, with more than a little bit of embarrassment, that she leaves way fewer breadcrumbs than he did.

"And you? " Mikasa leans her chin on the hand, looking at him with this interested glint in her eyes, her curiosity echoing in the bond between them.

"Me?"

"I mean, we keep on talking about my life. Tell me something about yourself. Something that is not a story about all the shit you pulled in primary school."

He bites on his lip, wondering what to tell her. Well, better start with basics they neglected yesterday, right?

"So, full German, I've already told you that. Dad's a doctor, Mum is a midwife, guess I did not exactly live up to their expectations… I was less than stellar at school if you know what I mean. But I'm a police officer, that's probably not the worst job they could think of-"

"You're in the police? Really?" She seems so genuinely surprised that he contemplates feeling offended, but then he realizes that all that Mikasa knows about him, is that he was pretty much a thug, as a kid. Oh and that Starks are his favorite Game of Thrones house.

"Yup. A childhood dream come true. " He smiles fondly, recalling his ten-year-old self-sitting in front of the tv and watching with wide eyes yet another kidnapper arrested and yet another burglar caught on a crime scene. The police force grew and grew in his eyes until they turned into figures more alike to demigods than simple men. And of course, there was this time with his mum which-

Well. He didn't really want to think about it.

Mikasa shivers, wrapping her arms around herself and sending him a worried glance.

"Everything okay?" she asks, hesitantly reaching out a hand to put on his shoulder. A simple gesture, easy reassurance; the sentiment that made him shake his head, shrugging off bad memories like a dog getting rid of water from his fur.

"Yes. Old times, not much to talk about." At least yet, he thinks. Not a time or place to unload this kind of baggage, not when it's a nice, sunny day, snow sparkles in the noon light and Mikasa nods and then simply moves her hand down to rest it on the crook of his elbow.

"It seems that we may actually have more than one mutual acquaintance, if you're in the police, you know?" she says, tilting her head a bit to the left.

"Who can possibly- wait." Some wheels in his brain turn to slowly click in place and he almost gasps. How could he not think about it? They have the same fucking surname! She even told him her uncle is half French! "You're Captain Levi's niece?! "

"Well, yes." She shrugs. "You know him?'

Does he know him? It's like asking a kid in Spiderman costume on Halloween if he knows Peter Parker.

And then her eyes widen with recognition and she simply bursts into laughter.

"You are the brat! The brat he keeps on complaining about, right? New in his team," she manages to let out, breathless and her shoulders shaking. "What are the odds?"

The odds are, in fact, simply astronomical.

But this is the thought that brings him so much warmth, so much happiness; we would find each other anyway, different time, different place but if we didn't pass each other on that street, we would soon meet somewhere else.

He wonders if he would spot her at the annual Christmas Ball, clad in this scarlet dress he saw hanging in her closet. Or if she would drop by the station to talk with Levi about something and they would bump into each other in the crowded corridor, sending his cup of coffee and a pile of papers flying into the air.

Mikasa stops laughing and chuckles a few times, flushed with happiness, glowing from inside out and he just knows that she's thinking about the same thing.

Destined. So that's what this word means; all of the roads I could take would eventually lead me to you.

"Go out with me," he blurts out, words escaping from his mouth before he can stop them.

She raises her head to look at him, brows furrowed and eyes all surprised.

"Wait, what?"

He taps on her knee once, twice. They're sitting on the floor in her living room, a jigsaw puzzle with Lion King motive scattered in between them. Just a moment ago she was deeply engaged in finding a missing piece of Simba's front paw and he jumps out with something like that?

She reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together, waiting for an explanation. She's also wondering if that's how it's always gonna be – him surprising her at every step, proving her wrong every time she feels she already knows him well enough to at least predict some of his actions. These are the little moments that mess in her head, that remind her that even though his soul may sing to hers, he's still just a little more than a glorious mystery left for her to uncover.

He shrugs, eyes distant. It's warm and comfortable inside Mikasa's flat, the two of them basking in the heat of their closeness, brushing each other's minds every now and then, bolder and more curious with every contact. Not holding their breath, but still waiting impatiently for when the last dam to break.

"I just though… like, I should probably introduce you to my family? My friends? I called them to let them know I'll be – out for some time because I met you. But I'd really want for you to meet my mum, at least, if it's okay. "

She chews on her lower lip, one of her hands in his, the other playing with a puzzle between her fingers. The sun hits her face just right, bringing out every curve of her lovely features; the sharpness of her jaw and cheekbones, the gentle slope of her nose, the almond shape of her eyes. She's so stunning, so incredibly unreal. And he would be lying if he said that he doesn't want to show her to his world. Put her in front of his friends and say; look. Look at her. What did I ever do to deserve that?

Her hesitance tastes like metal on his tongue, as she lowers her head, letting her dark hair obscure half of her face.

"Of course, we don't have to do that, if you're, um, not feeling comfortable with that yet." He adds hastily, cursing himself internally. Really, his impatience will one day fucking get him killed, they met just yesterday and he wants to show her around as if she was a new Porsche or something, great fucking idea -

Everything plays out so quickly that his brain simply shortcuts for a good minute.

Mikasa's suddenly on his lap, her folded legs on both sides of his thighs, the smell of her hair sending all his senses into overdrive; she wraps her arms around his neck and leans in.

All his mind registers is her black eyes and the way her nose bumps gently against his, the tiny second full of tension and -

And, completely out of blue, she's kissing him.

Someone could as well soak Mikasa's nice cream-colored carpet in gasoline and then throw a match at it.

Because as soon as her lips touch his – soft, so soft and so eager and he has no idea if this eagerness is hers or his, nor does he care – as soon as he breathes her in and closes his eyes, the rest is a simple muscle memory.

He puts his hands flat on her lower back, pulling her closer until their upper halves press to one another like pieces of the puzzle that's laying forgotten, scattered on the floor; her breasts flush against his chest, her wild-beating heart thumping a rhythm against his sternum. His fingers woven into her hair and he's kissing her back; with all the desperation and need and want he feels swirling inside his belly, with all his wonder and amazement and worship.

An echo powerful enough to make them both shiver and gasp against other's lips rip through their bodies; memory from before memory, as they're kissing each other for the first time and the thousandth, something completely new tangled up with something as natural as breathing.

Her lips are warm on his, persistent and sure. No backing down, no hiding underneath a shy smile and a blush; not, when her lungs burn and her mind races and he holds her like he never wants to take his hands off her, kisses her like a madman given sanity. Glorious technicolors burst underneath her eyelids; poppy red, deep-sea blue, sparkling gold and sizzling silver.

This body may not know him, nor this mind; but her very self, her soul hums with contentment and rejoices.

This is what coming home feels like.

Her lungs burn for air, but her mouth has a mind of its own at this point, chasing Eren's lips with twice the desperation until they slowly part, leaning on each other's foreheads and with eyes still closed. Her lips tingle and she can't somehow catch a breath. She's too big for her body, feels too vast to be contained within the bounds of a beating heart and skin burning with his heat.

There's this weird sensation in his head; it's like the second after the roller-coaster ride has ended and your body is no longer in motion, but you're still all shaky inside, you're still expecting to spiral down and soar up any moment.

"Why- why did you do that?" he breathes out, reaching up blindly with one hand to brush her parted lips, her cheek, her jawline.

"Because I wanted to," comes her response, slow and quiet but sure, no waver and not a trace of shyness.

He opens his eyes to find her staring at him, and the sight of her knocks him defenseless on the ground, makes his heart clench painfully in his chest. With his fingers still in her messy, black hair, with a swollen mouth and this wild, wild look in her eyes, she looks like the prettiest disaster, like a tsunami wave moments before it hits the beach and consumes everything in its way.

"And I'd love to meet you mom, Eren," she adds softly, smiling with only corners of her lips and a happy glow in her black eyes

Cream-colored carpet, scattered Lion King puzzle, half-closed white curtains and the ocean of white behind the window. "Uncle" blaring in red on Mikasa's muted cell phone thrown haphazardly on the night table in the bedroom, long-cold coffee in two mugs by the kitchen sink, Madeline purring gently on the loveseat, watching the pigeons on emergency stairs.

The pair of them in their own, small bubble, two faces leaning towards each other once again, two sets of eyelids fluttering closed and the heart-aching goodness between them.

"And I had spent the whole evening wanting to do just that," she said and then set him on fire.

"Because I wanted to," she admitted and bewitched him completely.

Restrained, but honest in her desire, quiet and sure in her want.

The final thing that Eren learns this morning, is that Mikasa Ackerman's not a shy, greenhouse-grown Southern Belle. She's not small nor delicate, nor confused. She knows what she's doing, controls her every gesture, every word; she aims true, always.

She wouldn't be his soulmate if she didn't.

In a warm, Chicago 2 o'clock light, with his hands in her hair and her fingers dancing on the back of his neck, they spiral and then soar up, up and up.

[mystic-fangirl-vinny-blog]

[Raph x OC] Crush (Part 1)

The upbeat melody seemed to echo through the summer night air as Raph hopped from roof top to roof top. He was on his way to the rooftop garden of a noisy boarding house. Normally he would avoid such a noisy place, but this was the home of Anna Romano, a teenage girl whom he had quickly became friends with. Maybe it was the fact that she could relate to him, since she also felt as if she lived in her siblings shadows, or maybe it was the fact she seemed unfazed at his being a mutant turtle. He couldn't really put a finger on it, but he found himself drawn to the small, chubby girl.

"My pretty little Galway Girl." A soft voice sang along with the chorus of the upbeat song, "My, my, my, my, my, my, my Galway Girl." Raph couldn't help smiling as he quietly watched the brunette, pouring herself over the large sketch book, as she intently focused on her drawing. Her pale, freckled, cheeks were smudged in a rainbow of colors from the charcoals spread across the small table in front of her. This seemed to be one of those moments where he would remember this scene, as if his mind was taking a mental picture. Anna was surrounded by an L shaped makeshift wall of climbing ivy, strings of garden lights peeking out from the dark green leaves. Several large clay pots filled with colorful flowers seemed to make a short third wall, creating a comfortable nook where the round wicker dining set was. The dark haired girl seemed oblivious to Raph's presence as she brushed her messy, wavy hair from her face, adding another streak of color to her cheeks. Quietly, Raph claimed a free wicker chair beside her as he turned his attention to the work that kept Anna's concentration. His eyes widened when he saw the drawing, it was no wonder she was so lost in her work! A silhouette of a young woman with her hair pulled back filled the bright white page, but the silhouette it self was filled with color. At the bottom was a scene of a beach with a setting sun, the colors of the sunset climbing up until they faded into a night sky that filled with constellations and colorful galaxies.   "That's amazing!" Raph breathed. Anna let out a sharp yelp, her heart suddenly feeling as if it were in her throat as she leapt from her seat. Raph jumped, catching her chair before it could fall. "You freaking ninja!" Anna exclaimed, clutching her chest as she turned her now wide hazel eyes to him, "How can someone your size be that quiet?!" "Training." Raph replied with a small smirk, "Didn't mean to scare you, you were just so focused."  Anna sighed, sinking back into her chair, "No shit I was focused. Do you know how many hours I've put into this thing?"  "I can imagine." Raph replied, "When was the last time you ate?"  Anna hummed thoughtfully as she looked to the sky, blinking a couple times before turning her attention back to the red masked turtle, "When did it get this dark?"  "What do you mean?" Raph asked. "I came up here around noon." Anna said, "What time is it?" "Tell me your kidding!" Raph replied, "It's like ten-thirty!"  "Really?" Anna asked, suddenly realizing how dry her throat felt. Raph sighed, shaking his head, "How many times do I gotta tell you to take a break?" "Hey, I get into my work." Anna replied. "Yeah, but how good will your work be if you stop taking care of yourself?" Raph asked. "That's true..." The brunette replied, looking away sheepishly. "I don't mean to lecture ya or anything," Raph said, "You just gotta take care of yourself. Ya got talent, Pipsqueak." "Thanks, Big Guy." Anna said with a chuckle, "Wanna come in? I got some left over pizza in the fridge. Oh and I finally got Deadpool!" "Hell yeah!" Raph grinned. 

Anna, who was eighteen, lived on her own on the top floor of the boarding house. Her apartment, luckily, had the large skylight that made it easy for Raph to come and go when she invited him over. The two teens climbed down the built in latter that lead to Anna's small living room. Her apartment was small, but comfortable. The living room connected to the kitchen, the two rooms separated by a small, narrow island that doubled as Anna's table. Two doors were in the corner of the kitchen, one leading to a small bathroom and the other leading to Anna's bedroom. In a matter of minutes, the two teens had made themselves comfortable on the couch, pizza box in front of them on the long coffee table, along with their sodas. "Ready?" Anna asked, pressing play after the large turtle nodded. Raph had to admit, he loved the comfortable moments like this. Moments where he could just relax without having to worry about anything. He did have moments like that at home, but something about this was different. It was hard for him to explain it. He wondered how he could explain it as they watched the movie, but the thought quickly left him as he watched the two actors suddenly start their sex scene. He tensed a bit, glancing to the girl next to him then quickly looking away. Anna seemed unfazed by the scene, she actually giggled at the holiday themes of the scene, but Raph couldn't help feeling a twinge of awkwardness. Sure Splinter had explained when he was younger that sex was a normal and natural thing, but it was different seeing it with someone sitting next to you. Granted, the scene was censored, but it didn't change the fact he was alone with a girl in her apartment during the scene. It didn't help that he had recently wondered if he thought of Anna as more than a friend. After all, it seemed like she was always on his mind any more. When he woke up, when he went to bed, during small victories while sparring with his brothers, and even when he'd be on patrol. His brothers, mainly Mikey, would tease him whenever he got a text message, knowing it was Anna he was talking to. Even April and Casey questioned his relationship with Anna. Raph pushed the thought from his mind, reminding himself he was a mutant turtle. There was no way a human like her would think of him as more than a friend. Right?

Anna was internally screaming as the sex scene finished. The whole reason she had invited Raph in to watch a movie was so she could have an excuse to suggest cuddling with the large turtle. If she did that now though, would he get the wrong idea and think she wanted more than that? Although she seemed calm on the outside, internally she was having a small crisis. She liked the larger teen, there was no denying that for her. She wasn't sure if it was love, but she knew for sure she liked him much more than just a friend. After all, when her coworkers at the cafe would ask if there was anyone special in her life, Raph was the one that always came to her mind. Would he feel the same way though? After all, she was just a human. Would he even think of a human in that way? She wanted to let him know how she felt, but she didn't want to make him feel awkward if he didn't think of her that way. So the thought of cuddling to test the waters seemed like the best way to go, but would it just be weird now?

Time passed as the two teens continued watching the movie. Anna glanced to Raph as she took a big breath and grabbed the remote. Raph gave the girl a curious look as she paused the movie. "Do you want to cuddle?" Anna bluntly asked, a faint pink color rising in her charcoal smudged cheeks, "I kinda feel like cuddling tonight." Raph suddenly felt as if his cheeks were burning at the girls sudden request, "Uh s-sure." Raph shifted in his spot, raising his arm to allow the brunette to lean against him. The reality of the girls request sank in as he felt her head against his chest and her smaller arm draped across his plastron. Feeling her warmth, the sweet smell of her shampoo mixed with the warm vanilla scent of her perfume, and the softness of her skin against him made his heart race. This was it, the moment that Raph had to admit he did have feelings for Anna. The way his arm fit around her, how she seemed to fit so perfectly against his side, it just felt so right to him. The thought crossed his mind, with her head against his chest like this, she had to hear how fast his heart was beating, right? He didn't care though, not if it meant he could keep holding her like this. Anna couldn't hide the wide smile on her face as she curled into Raph's larger form. The warmth of his larger arm around her made her melt as she laid her head against his chest. With the remote still in hand, she hit play before snuggling into the large turtle. She could hear the steady beating of Raph's heart, making her own heart flutter as let her eyes close. She had imagined this scenario before, but the real thing was so much better than she imagined. Raph glanced down at the brunette, a grin spreading on his face as he watched a content smile spread on the smaller girls face. He never would have guessed this would happen and now that it was happening he didn't want it to end. He knew it would have to though, so for now he just let himself enjoy the feeling.

"That was a good movie." Anna said when the movie was over. "Yeah it was." Raph agreed, his arm still around her. The two teens looked to one another, neither of them wanting to move from the couch. "You're pretty comfy, you know that?" Anna said with a smile. "So I've been told." Raph said, quickly adding, "By Mikey, I mean." "Aww," Anna chuckled, "You cuddle with your brothers?" "W-when we were little." Raph said, a faint blush crossing his cheeks as he looked away, "Mikey's always been a cuddler." "That's sweet." Anna said. Before Raph could reply, his phone rang, making Anna get up. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was getting late and Anna knew that it was one of Raph's brothers trying to find him. "Do you have to go?" Anna asked after Raph hung up. "Yeah." Raph replied, "Splinter was getting worried." Anna nodded before giving the turtle a smile, "We should cuddle again some time. That was nice." "Y-yeah, it was." Raph smiled.

Anna followed Raph up to the roof, the two teens exchanging their goodbyes before Anna stopped Raph. "What up?" He asked. Anna felt as if her heart was going to explode as she motioned for him to lean down. Confused, Raph leaned closer to the girl. Placing one hand on his cheek, Anna stood on her toes as she quickly kissed his other cheek. Raph felt as if his face was on fire as he realized what she just did. "We should go on a date some time." Anna said, her cheeks burning a bright pink. "Date?" Raph repeated, staring dumbfounded at the girl. "Raph!" Mikey's voice echoed from a near by roof. "Think about it." Anna smiled, "Good night!" With a wave to Mikey, Anna quickly disappeared into her apartment, leaving Raph holding the cheek she kissed as his younger brother landed on the roof. "Dude, what's with that goofy look?" Mikey asked. Still in a daze, Raph turned to his brother, "I think I have a date."

[londonlanded]

Week 33

Alright folks, rolling two weeks into one here since not a ton happened the first one.

Monday rolled in, and so did a true winter storm? I've seen London reduced to rubble by weather before, but this was some next level disruption. The tube stops when there's so much as a leaf on the tracks, so when you factor in an entire 'blizzard' by English standards, the world stops. Amusing how something as simple as frozen water can paralyze an entire country that's previously withstood everything from guns, germs, chemicals and everyhing in between. I was the only one whose shoes weren't seeing me slide across the pavement uncontrollably, my seasoned snow-walking ways allowed me at least a giggle as I passed my somewhat less-fortunate comrades who, well, looked kinda drunk walking on ice for the first time in, likely, a very long time. Maybe even ever?

Anyway, I made the mistake of taking the tube one morning (instead of the bus which is significantly more weather-worthy), and found myself listening to the most profoundly annoying train operator I have yet come across. We found ourselves stuck between Baron's and Earl's Court stations, and instead of just leaving us to suffer in peaceful silence, our conductor decided that telling us over and over that 'we will be moving AT SOME POINT' was much more comforting??? It was the most vague and simultaneously amusing and frustrating 10 minutes of my time in London. It also led me to think I might die underground more than it encouraged me that I wouldn’t. Anyway, I wouldn’t be much of a Londoner if I didn’t complain about the tube right?

Still, barring my one moment of train frustration, my week went by as smoothly as any second week of a job could go. I woke up Saturday morning to find a strange chocolate bar in my cupboard, and decided to make it my breakfast (#cleaneating). I tasted what could only have been alcohol, and I heard from my Hungarian flatmate later that morning that it was actually an old-fashioned chocolate bar flavoured with brandy. As sweet of her as it was to give me something from her home, I wasn't counting on tasting liquor that early on a Saturday morning!

By the way, not sure when I actually received these, but ready for something hilarious?

If someone could enlighten me as to how I’m meant to get rid of 250 of these I’d be hugely appreciative thank you. I only have like...30 family members, not sure who’s going to be on the receiving end of these cards but I’ll let you know if anyone ever actually takes one off me! Amusingly a friend of mine likes to take her friends’ business cards to dole out when she’s tipsy and gets asked out by boys she doesn’t want to give her number to, so at this rate the only call this card’s going to earn me is from one or two very disappointed gentlemen...

Monday, I spent my day wishing it away since that evening after work, I headed out to Hammersmith Apollo to see my hands-down favourite artist play the last of a series of 8 sold out shows he played in London. I've been a Bon Iver fan for years, but the only other time I've seen him live, I was in the wrong company and it was in the wrong venue (drunk and loud, open air aka the concert wasn't loud enough amazingly enough). This time, I didn't make the same mistake, I set out on my real-life clothes from work (much to the amused surprise of my colleagues who had never seen me out of a dress), and took the same bus that I usually take home.

As expected, the opener's become the most played artist on my itunes since the show, and unsurprisingly, Justin swept us all off our feet the second he took to the stage for his short but phenomenally good set. I walked the 20 minutes home with a smile on my face and a quiet thrum in my chest from the music that had just finished reverberating through it.This is the calm before the storm, but I was too distracted to take many good photos during the show. In any case, you can’t capture sound on camera anyway, it’s safe to say that my eyes didn’t really need to work for me to be fully and wholly consumed by what I could have been looking at. 

Wednesday, met up with Paris after work to go to his new favourite place in the city, which happens to be feet from where I work. The top of the Picturehouse Central cinema holds a members-only seating area that allows you a view over all of Picadilly circus, and we stopped there for a drink and a chat. If you know me at all, you know I've seen a total of 3 movies in the past decade probably, so buying a membership to a movie theatre is probably the last thing you'd expect from me, but hey, I'm full of surprises what can I say. And for this view?? Worth it I think.

Thursday March 8th meant happy international women's day! I learned that it's a massive deal in Eastern  Europe, so much so that 4 bouquets of flowers were delivered to our office for the director of the Russian Worldwide Sales Office (based in our building). I always thought it was something created in the West, but evidently not. My way of celebrating was with a few friends for dinner, but soon after arriving I found out that I couldn’t escape my past as a pad-lady since there’s truly nothing more empowering than being the face of sanitary napkins apparently... They forced me into it, here for your viewing pleasure. 

Friday after work, I met Paris at the very same place he’d shown me the week before - we’ve had to have a lot of marathon catch-ups recently to make up for the time we’ve lost together in the office, and I have a feeling I’ll be visiting this theatre overlooking Picadilly Circus a lot over the coming weeks to do just that. 

Saturday, came across this funny little street sign that reminded me of home. Even more amusing was the fact that I was in a neighbourhood near one called Forest Hill. I always gave the people who named my area a bit of flack for having been so unoriginal, but perhaps they were inspired by someone even less innovative than them. To make things worse, I was visiting someone named Emily. Too many parallels thank you. And yes, under the sign is a box of Yorkshire tea, in case you needed any more proof that I’m in England. 

Saturday night, headed to a vegan restaurant called Chloe where we celebrated one of my ex-colleagues birthdays under a sign that displayed how my generation looks at the monarchy. 

Sunday morning, I finally headed to one of the markets I’ve been most desperate to go see, with the most fantastic company I could have imagined of course! I met Paris and Giulia at the entrance to Liverpool Street station, and from there, we walked to the first of our two markets of the day.

Spitalfields market is a mix of food and clothing, textiles, wares and art and trinkets, anything you can imagine wanting you can probably find there. It’s not somewhere you want to go if you’re tight on your budget or bad with temptation, the three of us had to resist the urge to empty our pockets at least half a dozen times. Didn’t take too many photos since my iphone wasn’t giving me what I wanted in terms of photographic standard, but I did manage to snap this photo of a legit wood-fire stone pizza oven contained inside a food truck, which I found quite impressive I must say. 

Thanks to my mom’s recommendation, the three of us knew exactly what to order when we finally made it to the mouth of Brick Lane market. Dark Sugars is a chocolatier that’s more than just a storefront. Staff walk around with trays of samples, there’s a fantastic soundtrack, and they sell truffles in every flavour under the sun, including some that have tiny liqueurs that you inject into the truffle just before digging in. 

As cool as all that is, the reason we came was for their famous hot chocolate. They don’t use powders or syrups - instead, they take chunks of milk, white, and dark chocolate and shave them in front of you, displaying them in a tasty rainbow on top of steamed whole milk.

 It’s your daily requirement for sugar and everything else no doubt, but it was worth the inevitable sugar high as well as the small dent on my wallet. 

From there, we walked along to the second spot we were adamant on hitting that morning - the Beigel Bake is one of Brick Lane’s most well known and longest-standing attractions. 

Opened in 1974, they serve classic ‘Jewish-style’ Beigels and salt beef for a relatively paltry price tag. They’re open 24 hours, though walking into the place at high noon made it hard to imagine in any state other than packed to the brim busy. If any of you are familiar with the soup nazi from Seinfeld, that’s the vibe you get when you walk in. The line was out the door and almost to the corner, though it moved at a decent pace thanks to the no-funny-business, military-efficiency being demonstrated by the staff. 

Even though my body doesn’t agree with bread, I ordered the classic salt-beef beigel with gherkins, and though my body must have taken issue with something else I had consumed that day, it was entirely worth it. Paris added to his meal a 99p piece of cheesecake that honestly blew my mind when he offered me a bite, I swear if anyone you know is down to their last few pence and needs to feed themselves for a week, stocking up on that dense and perfect cheesecake might do the trick to keep them going. 

Brick lane really is all about the food though - there are a number of warehouses that you pass while hopping between stalls, and they’re all filled to the brim with stalls of vendors selling food from all around the world. From italy to the Netherlands, you can find your country - there’s even a poutine stand being run by some Canadian ex-pats! Of course, there are thousands of other things available like any market, and I went home with a map of England and Wales from 1900 that cost me a grand total of £5. See, it pays to be into things no one else wants!

And with that, I headed home with a happy belly and happier heart. 

Next week, my last week of training, the beginning of some real sales work, and some blasts from my PBX past!

e

[andy-abroad]

Mumbai_01

June.12.2017 Hello hello-- It's now much later in the day, but still the same day as when I landed. Honestly, today wasn't that bad, being tired wise. It was kind of an awesome way to get a full day in the city, even with so much travel. I woke up around 10a, which is earlier than I expected. I was originally going to wake up at Noon, but I guess my body had other plans. I really wanted to do laundry, as it would give me an excuse to kind of take it easy, feel productive, and research. I had some some research in the airport, so I had an idea of what I wanted to see, and when, but nothing set in stone. I'm finding that it's much more relaxed this way, but also kind of stressful. When I went to the front desk area, I asked about laundry. They have a service that would do it for me, but it was kind of expensive and I didn't want my clothes hot pressed, as they would most likely burn or shrink (dri-fit shirts). The man explained that laundromats and self laundry services aren't really a thing except for in homes, so I relented and gave him my things. As I no longer had plans, I quickly looked up some of the locations of things I wanted to do. Two things, the gate of India and the Dohbi Ghat were on the same rail line, with the train station being pretty close to my hostel. I decided that's what I would do. I grabbed my bag and headed out. It was more complicated than expected to find a way to the station. The roads all turn and the driving is quite wild. Rickshaws are everywhere - I might need to get on one soon! By the time I made it to the station, I was drenched in sweat and I was covered in mud. It's the rainy season so it's very humid, and the dirt turns to mud, which is kinda gross. I passed a lot of fruit and vegetable stands on the way, and made a note of where they sold water. I was definitely thirsty, but in a different way compared to Egypt. I got to the train station and paid for my ticket. First class was 70 rupees, and second class was only 10. I decided to buy first class, but accidentally bought two tickets instead of one! I meant to say round trip, but I guess it got lost in translation. I found the platform, and hopped into the train. Like the movies and the news, people are hanging out of trains, and jumping onto the platforms. It's really quite a sight to see! I got a seat, as my stop was the end of the line. I thought the train ride would be much longer, but I was on the express, so it didn't take more than 20 minutes. From that train station I had to walk pretty far to get to the gate of India. On my way, I got water from a street cart and a samosa. A samosa is a pastry with potatoes and curry and spices inside. Super tasty. Also spicy! I forgot how much I missed spicy. Anyways, the gate was built in 1923 to commemorate the first king and queen of England that visited India. India was a former colony, of which the impact can still be felt and seen to this day. Most helpfully, almost everything had English translations. The gate was built in the style of the muslims, the Indians, and of the British. It was pretty cool. Also, I got to see the Arabian Sea! It was pretty dirty, but neat nonetheless. I walked around that area and the pier, and found my way into a pub. I really needed to sit and be in some AC for a while, so I got a local beer and relaxed for a bit. Inside were two British guys here on business. They work in plumbing and had just come from a two week business trip in China. We chatted a bit and they actually told me of a place kind of famous for their biryani (rice and meat dish). I was excited to try and thanked them for the tip. They left, I finished my beer, paid, and then made my way to this restaurant. It was kind of in the opposite direction of the train station, but I needed to eat, and I was tired of eating American food (pizza, chicken, McDonald's, etc). The walk was long, but beautiful. So many beautiful, historic buildings, that are unfortunately in disrepair. There are also amazing trees - bananas, banyan, coconut, dates, and mango trees just lining the streets. It was very scenic. By the time I got close to the restaurant, I was super confused and kind of lost. My one map app told me it was inside a government compound. Definitely not. The other app told me it was just around the corner. Thankfully, the second app was right! I was quickly seated and ordered. The biryani was alright. Not the best, not the worst. I know some of it was pre-cooked, as it wasn't super hot, but it was still a good meal. It was at this point I realized that I had forgotten to take my malaria pill today. Oops! After eating and paying, I walked back to the train station. On my way I found a Zara. I went in just to look and ended up buying a shirt I really like. I feel kind of silly because it wasn't super cheap, I probably could have ordered it online to the house, and I don't have that much space in my bag, but I did it anyways. I also stopped by a bank. I wanted to get more cash after seeing the scarcity of ATMs near where I am and how hard it was to find ones that had cash. What I learned is that people take out small amounts, and the only bills left are the 2,000 rupee notes. These are about 30USD. I found this out because someone helped me, but before I could ask for an amount he entered 10,000 rupees.... I guess it's a good think I'm going to another Indian city after this! Finally, after much sidetracking and interruption, I found the train station and my platform, and I got on the slow train this time, as it stopped at my second location I wanted to go to. I actually passed by the Mumbai museum of modern art, but was too tired and sweaty. It was about 5 stops or so before I got off. I wanted to see the neighborhood of Dhobi Ghat, which is kind of a slum, but one known for their laundry. You drop off you clothes, and they disappear, but when you pick them up, they're as clean as can be. The people who wash the clothes hang them up all over - in between houses, on the roof, on poles, etc. it's actually quite beautiful and interesting to see. Luckily, it's literally right outside the train station. There were stairs to go down into the neighborhood, but I felt that would be impolite. After a few minutes and few photos, I got back on the train. I got off at my stop and began my trek back to the hostel. For some reason, I think I took a really different route. There's no direct way to get there, so I wound up walking really far out of my way to just take straight roads instead of twisting and turning my way down neighborhoods. I was nervous my phone was going to die and I didn't think I remembered to bring the cord (I did remember, I found out later). On my way I passed a pharmacy and bought some bug spray (mosquito season is upon us) and some sunblock, as although it's mostly cloudy, the sun came through for some time and it was intense. I don't know how well either of these will stay on when I'm sweating like crazy, but we'll see. I also bought 3L of water - to drink but also to brush my teeth. By the time I got back to the hostel I was desperate for a shower. I quickly locked my things away, grabbed my last pair of underwear, and washed the day away. Sweat, 24 hours of travel, mud. Felt so good to be clean. I also shaved because it was about that time, as well. It was around 7p by the time all this ended. I had planned on going back out to see the sunset over the famous bridge, but I really just couldn't bring myself to go back out and face the humidity. I chatted with one of my friends back from home for a bit to get the scoop on the best places to eat. One of the locations was really close to where I was today! Nah go and check it out later if I have time. She also said there are some cool breweries and cafes in Bandra West (I'm in Bandra East). With all the planning for tomorrow done, I watched some tv instead of venturing out and I am glad, because it has been thunder storming for hours! The rain got so heavy it knocked out wifi and cell signal. Anyways. It's not even that early but I'm headed to bed. Super tired and hoping to sleep well. Until whenever--

[pospauro]

lion city: day 2

August 14, 2016

Sunday came, Alex woke me up at about 6am. I was still sleepy and still exhausted from our shenanigans yesterday but I obliged anyway. I guessed her Mom figured I’d take too long so she went down for breakfast alone, leaving me and Alex. Just as I was about to get finished though, she went back, took the powerbank I borrowed (which I didn’t use anyway) and decided to wait for us.

I actually planned to use my off-shoulder dress for the main day, but figured it’s going to be too uncomfortable for me throughout the day, especially when partnered with my thick-soled sneakers (not ideal for walking long distances). So I ended up using that BHPC dress my sister gave me (I looked like I’m going to play golf or something lol). It looked more casual and appropriate though. And my pastel green shoes looked surprisingly tolerable with it. All prepped, we took only the important brochures and maps with us, including the MRT map.  

We left the hotel at around 10:30-11am and Tita separated from us as we headed for the train to Sentosa. Walking outside was soooo refreshing! Singapore is really, really clean and peaceful. Their 7am looks like 5am in PH. So even though it’s almost noon we still felt the morning breeze. Before heading for a station we checked the map and realized we can’t get straight to Sentosa because it’s in another island. We’ll have to get to Harbour Front first, and from there we ride the monorail going to the destination. I had another station in mind but Alex decided we ride from Bras Basah so we won’t have to change trains. Little did we know how ridiculous that decision was.

It’s really cold underground, really quiet and clean. Everything is so organized. You won’t ever get lost so long as you hold onto your maps (I say that yet we got lost a few times hahaha!). 

The MRT was practically empty. Well, it was a Sunday.

While seated, I randomly decided to read the map again. Then I realized that we’re on the Circle Line... which means... we’re going to make a roundtrip!!! Check out the map here (it’s the yellow line). That’s 26 stations in total! HOLY SHIT?!?! We could have ridden from Dhoby Gaut, and we’d only have to go through four stations!!! God, kill me. KILL ME NOW. It’s like making a roundtrip from Guadalupe to Boni, and then Shaw, up to Pasay, when you should have ridden the other train to Buendia!!! Vague analogy but you get the picture. Jeezus. I tried to find a way out of the conundrum but to no avail. I only realized that when we’re already in Caldectott so it’s too fricken late! I wanted to punch myself because time that could have been allotted doing other things were wasted inside the train -_- SO FRUSTRATING

And so, conceding, we just waited. We simply stared at the little light that flickers every time we stop. It indicated which station we’re heading for and stopping at. It blinked every now and then, and as we wait for it, time felt longer. The trip from one station to another feels like half an hour, especially when you had nothing to see outside.

After the painstaking wait we finally arrived. Right after we got out of the mall, ViVo City had us at awe. Well, it kinda looked like Trinoma or something so nothing astounding, really. It’s just that we’ve been sick of seeing buildings everywhere it’s a breather to see the sea and the clear sky. 

Those little dots were cable cars. I really regret choosing the other ride over this.

This is where the draft ended---the one I wrote months ago. I’d probably sound different in the paragraphs to follow as I barely remember what happened then. I’ll do my best to recall things though haha 

Also, I re-edited the photos. 

It was about to rain here hence the dark sky.

The degree of discipline in this country is thoroughly manifested in their cleanliness. Just gets you wowza.

It took us a while to find where the monorail is, as it is located inside the mall. When we came there, there were multiple lines in front of what looked like a ticket booth. We were confused for some time because we thought we could use our STP in the monorail. I inquired from the lady guarding the entrance and she told us we’ll have to purchase a different ticket, which was what those lines were for. Costs $4 (P120-P150). Dammit, really. The STP card cost us $30 and we can’t even use it in Sentosa. How unfair is that?!?! We’re leaving tomorrow hey!

And so we purchased the tickets. When we entered, there were sooo many tourists. 

Finally a train above ground. It looked and felt like being on LRT 1. 

We debated whether to go straight to Universal Studios or go around other places (first). We had a hard time because when I researched about SG’s Uni Studios, there were a lot of bad reviews. The feedback for the most part consisted of people complaining about the really really long lines, and how it takes them hours to get into just one ride. Some of them purchased this expensive-ass ticket which somehow gets them prioritized, so they can enjoy plenty rides. 

First, I wouldn’t be willing to buy that. I’m spending my own savings in this trip, and I don’t even work yet so how the hell will I offset my expenses?! Yeah I may be too practical I deprive myself the joy in some things (that changed now though!) but I’m a certified tightwad. Secondly, I wouldn’t want to spend the whole day waiting in lines and being in just one goddamn place. We have other places to visit in our itinerary. 

So basically, we’re weighing in two risks here: (1) not getting our money’s worth in US because we’d leave early to visit other famous sightings and (2) missing out on the possibly better places because we stayed in US whole day. 

Spoiler: We regretted not going. HAHAHAHA well at least mostly on the part that we didn’t take a photo with that iconic globe outside :( Regreetss

So we went down to Imbiah Station. A place for more regrets :-)

Nothing much to say about this place. Nothing astounding eh haha

It was pretty much a bore to go around. I prefer doing dangerous, novel, and scary stuff than just simply looking around. Taking pictures would be fun but like I said, the place is nothing astounding. 

We went up and saw the famous Madame Tussauds, but we didn’t go in. 

We saw the cable cars up close, contemplated on riding one, but ended up riding the Skyline Luge.

It was fun, but we kind of regretted it. The destination was the beach alone, and we paid double so we can go back. If we rode the cable car, we’d go around and about (it was more expensive but probably more worth it). So what happened was, upon arriving at the beach, we were pissed at everything. We don’t even have a swimming attire with us. There were too many people. We’re bloody hungry. And damn the sun was scorching hot. 

Anyway, Alex was scared shitless of heights so part of the good time I had was laughing at her. She seriously froze. HAHAHA

We debated for some time at the side about what we’ll do next, because we paid for our ride back in the Skyline Luge. If we’re going to forfeit it, we’re wasting about $10. But we have no reason to go back there because there’s nothing to do at Imbiah Station! And we want to go to the station where Universal Studios is. So what we can do: 1) Forfeit our ride back, spend another $4 to go to US, and another $4 on our way back to the main island OR 2) Go back to Imbiah and walk on our way to US. We can still ride a train back but we felt that it’d be a waste. It’s a lose-lose situation. Jeezus

So much to think about when you’re a goddamn tightwad. Anyway, we resolved to use our ride back and go straight to Marina Bay Sands. We’re skipping Universal Studios. 

Before heading back, we passed by this place and I insisted we go in. Alex was tired so she was pretty annoyed at me this time haha she wanted to rest already. 

This museum is boring inside and was practically empty so I didn’t bother taking pictures.

Upon arriving at the station though, we asked at a booth where we could buy the tickets to go back to the island, but we were surprised to find out it’s free. Lol. But this is the setup: it’s only destination is back to the island. You cannot drop by other stations anymore. 

We’re already too tired to think so we just rode the train. Our feet were already hurting too. 

We ate at the mall that looked like Rob Magnolia before heading to Marina Bay Sands. We ate Chinese food again. 

Okay, segue, I know I’ve been talking negatively about this experience haha but I just wanted to keep it as real as I can. Yea, half the time I was pissed, but I’m not going to deny that I had good time somehow. Reminds me how alive I really am with all those emotions. Awuw 

Marina Bay Sands was stunning. 

We entered Gardens by the Bay and lined up at a counter to get a ticket for the domes. We thought $36 was too much so we only bought access for one. We chose Cloud Forest. Another regret. Really, this proves how much more you’ll regret the things you didn’t do that those you did. LESSON LEARNED. 

I saw the Supertree Grove from afar. It was exactly like what I saw in google!

We went closer and it was B E A U T I F U L

Alex and I got into a fight so we weren’t talking during our time here. We went to the Cloud Forest Dome and separated. Haha so I don’t have pictures inside with my face in them :-( Lol

In the end, Alex and I met outside, both of us dead tired. We still weren’t talking for a good 30 minutes, until she called me and asked me if I’m G to eat dinner with her Mom and company. 

We decided not to go because it’s in Sentosa. We’re already too tired.

We got outside and saw an amazing view. So of course, we held a photo op. HAHAHAHA

Time’s around 6-6:30pm. The wind blowing felt like the morning breeze. Probably because we were beside a huge body of water (don’t know what kind so yea)

Can’t replicate this shot for some reason. The body angle is so hard to copy -_- especially the head tilt!

Yeah sorry I had to nerd out I just like this pose so much HAHAHA

We also planned to ride the Singapore Flyer but naaaw, it’s just Alex and I. Looks like a romantic ride. We’d prefer to do it with someone else HAHAHA

Beautiful sight* <(*o*)>

*I’m the sight HAHAHA

Marina Bay Sands from direct below.

Inside.

And at the other side.

That ends our main day!