#i wanna do a time travel au. a chance for him to fix his mistakes (& made some new ones!)

[orcelito]

OK I do have that idea for a trigun longfic. And it is almost exclusively trimax inspired lol

[kaghoeyama]

three of cups.

featuring: eren jaeger, armin arlert, afab reader.

word count: 5.5k

summary: you, eren and armin have been best friends for ages. there’s always been an underlying tension between the three of you, until that tension finally snaps.

content warning: smut, college au, post-timeskip characters, alcohol consumption (characters are tipsy but not inebriated), threesome, mlm, mutual pining, voyeurism, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), slight edging, use of good boy/good girl, masturbation, cumplay

a/n: uhh so i was horny and this happened. pls be kind this is like my first fanfic ever (also english is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes feel free to let me know).

update: so apparently tumblr took out a whole ass paragraph after the “keep reading” and then repeated two different paragraphs twice?? i’ve seen people trying to fix this by adding asterisks so i’m doing the same. sorry about that lol.

18+ CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

So loud, you think.

You can almost feel the room vibrate with beat of the music, your steps naturally adapting to the rhythm as you make your way through a crowd of college students in various states of dishevelment. A smile comes to your lips. The whole place smells of alcohol and sweat and the floor is sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the chaos; the year had been brutal for a lot of you and with finals finally behind you, no one was gonna miss the chance to loosen up and just have fun, yourself included. Which was exactly what brought you to make this little trip across the room, eyes fixed on your objective.

*

*

*

He’s leaning against the wall, his golden hair making it easier for you to spot him in the crowded room. His eyes are trained on his phone as he mindless scrolls down with his thumb, so you’re not too surprised when he doesn’t notice you straight away, even when you’re standing right in front of him.

You take a moment to take in his delicate features, his skin turned to porcelain by the bright light coming from his phone; the alcohol makes you bold enough to trail a hand up his arm and rest on his cheek, successfully shifting his attention to you. His face relaxes in a smile when he sees you, but his eyebrows are still raised in surprise at your sudden closeness; he opens his mouth to greet you but you’re quicker,  “Armin, would you please let me kiss you?”, your gaze keeping him pinned against the wall.

“I- what?” 

You relish in the way his breath catches in his throat, and you certainly don’t miss the flush that comes to his face or the way his eyes drop to your lips. 

“It’s for a dare… please?” your answer comes so innocent to his ears and he tries not to think at how pretty your plea sounded, even prettier than he’d fantasized so many times now.

 “I- I mean, yeah, sure” he stammers; you chuckle when close the distance between you, his pretty blue eyes still confused as you press your lips against his. 

The kiss comes out of the blue for him, yet you don’t miss the way his hands instinctively grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You hum into the kiss, your body suddenly so warm as he moves his lips against yours; he’s so pliant, all you had to do was ask and now he’s all over you, his grip keeping you flush against his body. Your fingers slip between his golden locks and when you lightly tug at them his hold grows tighter, his lips parting with a low moan. You swear you hear him whimper as you slip your tongue past his lips, taking control of the kiss as you explore his mouth, warm and wet and oh his hands are gripping your ass now, and you moan into the kiss as you feel his erection poking at your hip.

 “The dare said ‘kiss’ but if you two wanna get a room…” Sasha’s loud voice somehow reaches you from across the room and you pull back from the kiss, a string of spit connecting still connecting your mouths. He’s panting, mouth still parted, and you can’t help but stare at his pink lips, slightly puffed and still shiny from the kiss.

 Without thinking you brush a thumb against his lower lip, “so pretty” you murmur. 

Armin swallows around nothing, and when your eyes meet his pupils are all blown out, pleading, almost begging you to close the distance once again. Fuck he looks so flustered, heat pooling between your legs as you wonder how he’d look if you took his cock in your mouth, if you could make him so lost in pleasure that his smart little brain couldn’t form any coherent thoughts.

 You feel his arm around your shoulders before you see him, his usual scent of soap and lemon shampoo now mixed with a hint of smoke. You rest your head against his shoulder, your body craving physical contact after the kiss you’d shared with the blond. “Hi ’ren” you murmur against his shirt, dazed eyes looking up at him and then shifting to Armin. Your kiss was enough to make his brain fuzzy but now, with Eren’s arm wrapped around him and his body so close, he felt completely overwhelmed.

Eren pressed a kiss over your hair and pulled you and Armin even closer. “You shouldn’t keep all the fun to yourselves, don’t you know that sharing is caring?” he whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear through the music.

You can’t believe that cheesy line sent a shiver through your body. You figure it’s because of Eren.

“Maybe we should make use of that tequila bottle in our dorm room, what do you say Armin?” he adds, the blond choking out a soft affirmation. You doubt your sober self would have done that, but you were tipsy enough not to care when you took both their hands, interlacing your fingers with their own, a teasing smile gracing your lips. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 You feel strangely calm as you walk down the hallway. It’s definitely quieter than the party, and your attention is quickly drawn from one dorm room to another, where you catch glimpses of people smoking and drinking to the sound of at least ten different playlists.

Again, you smile. For the third year now you’re witnessing how your otherwise rigorous and law abiding campus turns into a huge frat party in the weekend after finals. You don’t know if it’s the warm weather or the fact most common spaces are surprisingly clean by monday that makes everyone look the other way, either way you’re thankful. You close your eyes for a moment as you walk, slightly overwhelmed by the music and the loud chatter and the drink you had at the party, your brain lost in a pleasant buzz.

 A light squeeze to your hand brings you back to earth. Your head turns to your left, eyes slowly opening to meet a pair of blue ones. 

“Are you okay?” Armin asks softly, the tiniest hint of concern slipping past his lips. You wait a beat before addressing his question, choosing to look at him instead. You note that his cheeks are almost as pink as his lips, and that his blue t-shirt makes his eyes sparkle; you ignore how your stomach flips when you realize he’d been holding your hand since you’d left the party. 

“I’m great,” you say as you shift closer to him “I’m in a good mood actually.”

 You catch Eren’s eyes leaving you as he turns his head forward and keeps walking in front of you. You let your gaze travel from his head – you loved that half bun he kept his hair in more than you should – to his broad shoulders, entranced by the way his black t-shirt stretches over his muscular back.

You must have missed the part where he stopped in front of the dorm room, because you end up bumping against that back. 

“You’re completely out of it” Eren teases with a grin. 

“No, I’m not” you retort, “as I said, I’m in a good mood.”

 The look he gives you is playful. “You call it good mood, I call it being drunk.”

 “I had literally just one drink, there’s no way anyone could get drunk from that.”

 “Depends on how strong the drink is.”

 “Will you shut up?”

 You’re still bickering as you enter the room, Armin rolling his eyes at the two of you with a fond smile. Once Eren shuts the door though, you all fall quiet.

 The only light came from the blue led Armin had put on his side of the room, casting a glow over your faces that was almost ethereal. There’s a weird tension, a nervous feeling gripping your stomach and making you tingle with anticipation. You’d been alone with them in that very room more times than you could count, cramming for tests, watching a movie or simply hanging out, but tonight something was different. You sit next to Armin on his bed, eyebrows knitting together as you quickly try to analyse that feeling.

 The three of you had been friends for ages, since you all attended the same elementary school and lived down the same street. You had bonded with Armin first, his quiet and intelligent personality matching well with yours. You remember fondly the warm afternoons in his backyard, grass tickling your skin as he showed you his new ocean life books and you rambled about ancient Egypt, Greek myths or whatever you were fixating on at the moment.

 Eren on the other hand – at first you couldn’t stand him. You only knew him as ‘Armin’s other friend’, but he was such a loud and hot headed kid, you’d always found his attitude too off-putting to even start a conversation, and you were pretty sure he didn’t like you either. After some pushing from Armin though, you’d actually tried to get to know each other; much to your surprise, you found out you had a lot of interests in common. Eventually, you’d even come to admire how passionate he got about the things he cared about, how strong his ideals were, and with time his impulsivity left room to a much more calculated approach.

 After all these years, the three of you were still as thick as thieves; you’d become so comfortable around each other that people always assumed you were either dating one of them. You’d always brush it off with a laugh, but now you wonder if it’s normal for friends to behave like that around each other. It was the little things at first; lingering touches, wondering eyes, teasing comments. Then Eren’s hands all over you every time you wore a pretty dress, or Armin’s obvious erection that time you and Eren were messing around at the pool; even your friends had noticed how close you were – and never missed a chance to tease you about it.

This is stupid, you conclude. They’re your oldest and closest friends, you won’t allow your attraction to them – at least you’re admitting it’s there – to make things weird.

 You move to get the tequila you know they keep hidden in the closet; maybe that will shake the awkwardness away. You take a long sip before handing the bottle to the blond, alcohol still burning in your throat as you lay on your back, head resting on his lap.

 You feel him still beneath you; when you look at him, his flustered expression is clear despite the dim lit room – before you can catch yourself, you wonder if he’s still hard from before.

 Eren looks at the both of you on Armin’s bed. You’ve closed your eyes and your head is lightly nodding along with some music coming from the hallway, the beat muffled by the closed door. He watches Armin, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he can almost hear the mental pep talk the blond gives himself before raising a hand to play with your hair. You hum at that, eyes slowly opening as you turn your head towards him.

 “Eren, come closer” you say, stretching out an arm as if to reach him.

 “And why would I do that” he answers with a playful smile on his lips.

 You raise your eyebrow, smiling back to him. “If you insist on staying over there, I guess Armin and I are really gonna keep all the fun to ourselves, isn’t that right Armin.” You say lightly, rising from his lap to lay against his side, your body wrapping around his arm; his hand ends up between your closed thighs and somehow you manage not purr in his ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, both of you now facing Eren. 

When Armin speaks, you don’t miss how his playful tone hides a hint of malice, eyes fixed on the brunette, “oh I’m sure he wouldn’t mind just watching if we were actually having fun.”

Eren laughs at that, his voice dropping lower. 

“True” he admits calmly, as if the thought hadn’t brought him to several orgasms through the years, “but right now I think I’d rather join.” 

And he does, sitting close to your other side.

You wish that type of exchange wasn’t as common as it was between the three of you. You also wish it didn’t send a wave of arousal trough your body every single time.

You watch him as he leans toward you to grab the bottle from Armin’s hand, taking a sip of the amber liquor. Your eyes follow a drop of alcohol at the corner of his mouth, unconsciously tightening your hold on the blond as Eren’s tongue comes out to bring the drop past his lips.

In that moment, Armin decides he’s had enough. He’s way too turned on to let all this teasing slide; if the three of you really are as attracted to each other as he thinks, this was the time he was gonna do something about it. So when he speaks, he does with a purpose.

 “Is it weird that I’ve kissed both my best friends?” his question sounds so innocent, he even lets out a calculated chuckle to feign embarrassment.

Eren tilts his head toward him, throwing him a curious glance “You still remember that? Must have been one hell of a kiss huh” he smirks. 

Armin knows he’s teasing, and that he clearly remembers too, but he can’t help the pink blush that colours his cheeks as his thoughts rush back to that night.

 It happened first semester of junior year, after Sasha’s ‘small’ housewarming party had quickly turned into a full blown party. As the music got louder and more and more people filled the tiny flat, Jean, all tipsy and bright eyed, had gathered all of you in Sasha’s room to play spin the bottle – most of you had booed him, but you’d followed him anyway.

 After watching you awkwardly peck Connie on the lips and Mikasa blush violently as Sasha took her face between her hands and gave her a loud smooch, it was his turn to play. He gave the bottle a spin and almost choked on his spit when it landed on Eren. He remembers everyone cheering as he tried to stop his face from flushing red, looking everywhere but at Eren; that’s how his eyes landed on you, quiet where your friends were loud, your eyes focused on him in a way that was almost daring.

He followed your gaze as it moved towards Eren, finally making eye contact with the boy. His attempts look composed failed miserably when Eren, a lazy smirk spreading on his lips, beckoned him with his hand to move closer.

 “I- uh we don’t have to…” he choked out.

 Eren’s smirk grew wider, “It’s just a game Armin, what are you scared of?”

 Armin couldn’t tell if his tone was soft or mocking, either way he felt as he had something to prove now.

He stood on his knees and crawled on the floor as Eren mirrored him, ignoring the way his stomach flipped as they met in the middle of the circle, so close he could feel his breath over his lips.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean said from somewhere behind him, “it’s not like you haven’t done this before” he teased.

Armin wanted to turn back and state that no, they had not actually done that before – he’d probably sound way more disappointed than he should – but before he could even open his mouth he felt a hand on his cheek; his eyes flickered back to Eren’s green ones, only to find them trained on his lips as the brunette sealed the gap between them.

Eren’s lips felt so impossibly soft again his, he tasted like vodka and something sweet he couldn’t recognise and Armin couldn’t really thing about anything as he lost himself in the kiss. The hand on his cheek moved through his hair and Eren pulled slightly, just enough to make Armin gasp against his lips, taking the chance to slide his tongue against his lower lip and into his mouth. Armin broke the kiss at that, a whimper leaving his lips because he wanted, needed more, but the feelings building up inside him – and the arousal making his pants tighter – were sending him in a slight panic.

He barely registered his friends’ loud noises as he sat back on his spot, but he didn’t miss the way Eren winked at him and licked his lips, green eyes boring into his blue ones. Armin struggled to act like his normal self rather than some teenager who had just kissed his long time crush. He desperately tried to focus on something, anything but Eren and his stupid lips and stupid grin and stupidly pretty eyes right in front of him, and that’s how his eyes found you again.

 You had watched the whole scene with an interest you hoped went unnoticed by your friends. You sure hoped Mikasa, sat right next to you, had missed the way your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the blond gasp under Eren’s grip, heat coursing through your body and pooling between your legs. When Armin’s blue eyes found you, flustered, with half lidded eyes and teeth sunk in your bottom lip, you’d lowered your head in shame.

 Eren rests his head again the wall and closes his eyes, as to enhance the memory.

It had been over a year ago, yet he remembered Armin’s sweet lips against his, the small noises he unconsciously let out going straight to his groin.

 He remembered your face, eyes glossy with desire as you watched them part, flustered almost as much as Armin, as if you’d been the one kissing him instead, and oh had he wanted to kiss you. Had it been just the three of you in that room, he would have grabbed your face and bruised those pretty lips, forcing Armin’s sweet taste in your mouth.

 He’d long given up the guilt that came with fantasising about his closest friends, any uncomfortable feeling quickly replaced by pleasure every time he wrapped his hand around his cock. At first it was just one of you under him, on top of him; soon enough he’d started picturing both of you on your knees, eyes bright and pleading, pink tongue hanging out of your mouths as you wait for him to paint your pretty faces with his cum.

“So who’s the best kisser?” you ask, your warm breath against Armin’s ear making him shiver.

 “I can’t- You both… I’m not gonna answer that.” Armin manages to sound flustered when he answers.

 Eren looks at him. “I would” he states nonchalantly, “but I don’t have all the materials to make my choice.” His tone drops to a low murmur, green eyes slowly shifting to you.

 Armin tries to hold back a smile, both of you reacting exactly as he anticipated.

 Your heart is hammering in your chest, it’s beat so loud you’re sure both of the boys can hear it; when you speak, you desperately try to keep your voice steady.

“Then god forbid you make an uniformed decision.”

 Eren is straight up grinning at this point; he grabs your wrists and tugs you closer, pulling you on his lap. You balance yourself on his shoulders as his hands graze your bare thighs up and down, your skirt bunching up to your hips and barely covering your panties.

 When your eyes meet, you’re shocked at how softly he’s looking at you. “I’ve been waiting a while for this” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, and you swear you can feel him stroking your cheek before burying his hands your hair and drawing you closer. He’s so warm all pressed up against you, so sweet when his lips ghost against yours before finally kissing you.

You’re slow to respond at first, too lost in how right it feels to have him so close and all over you, but you’re quick to part your lips for him, his tongue sliding against yours; he tastes of alcohol and you get drunk on it, a small moan leaving your throat and getting lost in the kiss. You whimper as you feel him groping your ass and push you even closer. He’s kissing you like a man starved, devouring you, the intensity making you feel light headed. You break apart from the kiss with a sigh, head falling on his shoulder, barely registering what you’re doing as you lightly grind against his hardening cock.

Eren groans as he tugs your hair so that you can look at him, his dark pupils swallowing up almost any trace of green. 

“So needy… how many times have you thought about this?” he asks, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your skirt. 

You look away from him, cheeks heating up; you don’t want to admit how many times you’ve cummed on your fingers with their names on your lips, but you don’t think you have a choice.

 His head dips lower to press an open mouth kiss to the column of your throat, “Answer baby, there’s no need to be shy; we’re all friends here.”

 You suck in your breath, voice embarrassingly shaky “so- so many times, w- with both of you” you confess.

 Armin groans at your words, a curse slipping past his lips. “We- we could have done this so long ago” he mumbles, eyes fixed on you as he palms himself through his jeans. You feel so hot under his gaze, so wanted, you never want his eyes to leave your body.

Eren steals your attention by sucking a purple mark at the base of your neck; you bite back a moan as he licks at the bruise, heat pooling in your panties. he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

 “This won’t do” he says softly against the shell of your ear “how can Armin hear all your pretty noises if you hold them back?”

 Before you can choke out an apology, his lips go back on your neck, finding that sweet spot below your ear that makes you whimper. You’re trembling as he sucks another bruise on your skin and this time you don’t hold back, soft moans leaving your lips as your hands grips his hair, tugging it loose and fawning all over his shoulders.

 Eren pulls back, admiring his work as you try to steady your breath. 

“Good girl” he murmurs, “let us hear you.”

 You shudder at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, and he’s barely put his mouth on you. You can feel wet slick gathering in your panties and you shift to straddle one of his thighs, grinding hard to relieve the tension as your head falls back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

Two strings of low curses reach your ears, and you barely register Armin slipping a hand under his pants as Eren pulls you down on him again, the knee you have trapped between his legs pressing against his hard cock.

 “Fuck, baby you wanna cum like that? Riding my thigh?” he pants, slightly bouncing his leg up to meet your movements, successfully drawing another moan out of your lips.

He brings a hand your face, almost reverent as his thumb grazes your lower lip, just like you’d done with Armin barely an hour ago. Your tongue darts out and licks the tip of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking slightly as you nod, eager.

Eren parts his lips, eyes glued to your mouth. He can’t believe he finally has you – both of you – as he wants you, as he’s pictured so many times; he wonders if he’ll come undone in his pants like a teenager, as you add pressure on his throbbing cock with each grind of your hips. He slips his finger from your warm lips, rushing his hands under your skirt to take off your panties.

 When you finally readjust yourself on his thick thigh, you almost sob at the feeling of your bare, sensitive cunt against the rough material of his pants. Before you can resume your movements, he lifts up the piece of fabric, dangling it in front of your face.

 “Look at this” he murmurs, “completely soaked” his voice trailing off as an idea suddenly forms in his mind. 

He turns to Armin, and fuck, he feels his cock twitch at the sight. The blond is laying against the headboard, legs spread apart; he has a hand wrapped tight at the base of his hard, leaking cock, his pretty face all scrunched up in pleasure. 

Armin’s cheeks heat up when he notices Eren’s eyes on him, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly stroking his cock, trying to delay his orgasm as much as possible.

“’Min, you think you could use these?” Eren asks, dark eyes dropping between the blond’s legs. Armin’s eyes widen at the request, his brain shutting down for a moment as he looks at the drenched panties in his hand. 

“What? I- I-…” he looks at you, dazed, half lidded eyes boring into his blue ones as you rub slowly on eren’s thigh. “Y- yes please” he chokes out, shame reddening the tip of his ears.

 “So polite… what a good boy” Eren purrs, his deep voice making Armin twitch in his own hand. 

He takes the panties, the beads of your arousal thick on the side your cunt was, and he wraps the fabric around his cock. You watch with wide eyes, struggling to believe that sweet innocent Armin would ever give you such a lewd sight; you’re itching to lean over and kiss, lick, bite every inch of his body, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you in place.

Armin moans loudly as your slick smears all over his shaft. He keeps rubbing at himself with your panties trapped between his hand and his cock and how the fuck is this already topping every sexual experience I’ve ever had he manages to think. His eyes trail up and down your body, Eren’s body, and he doesn’t even notice how much his strokes speed up, hips bucking desperately into his own hand.

“Slow down baby or you’ll miss all the fun” Eren’s voice is as soft as the hand he puts on his leg to appease him. “If you behave, y/n will let you cum on her, right?” he says, sneaking a hand between your legs and sliding two fingers between your dripping folds.

 “Ah- ye- yes Armin, wherever you want” you squeak, arching your back as Eren slips his fingers inside you. You feel inebriated as he slowly starts pumping, his fingertips massaging your walls, so slowly you want to cry. You wail when his fingers curl over your sweet spot, a hand gripping your waist to stop you from fucking yourself against his hand.

“Please ���Ren, oh god, please, faster” you sob, high pitched moans slipping past your lips before you even realise it.

Instead of listening to you, Eren pulls his fingers out and slides them up to your clit, collecting your slick; you whimper when he retracts his hand from your cunt, pressing down on his thigh once again to get more friction. When your clit brushes against a wrinkle in his pants your eyes roll inside your head, orgasm so close you can taste it, but apparently Eren has other plans.

 “Not yet baby, hold it for a bit longer, will you?” he purrs close to your ear, his mouth peppering wet kisses on your neck.

“Please a-ah Eren I c-can’t-” your words come out as broken sobs but you’ve long stopped caring, your brain filled with nothing but pleasure.

When Eren looks at your face you look absolutely wrecked, sweat shining on your forehead and cheeks red from the strain, chest heaving as quick pants come out of your parted lips. “

Armin, come here.” He says, hungry eyes still locked on yours. The blond obeys and shuffles closer to the two of you, your panties forgotten on the bed.

“You’ve been so good I think you deserve a reward” he says, as he pushes the glistening fingers he’d just pulled out of your cunt straight into Armin’s pretty mouth. 

The blond moans at your taste, both hands coming to grab Eren’s wrist and push his fingers further in his mouth, choking slightly when they hit the back of his throat. Eren watches him in a trance, mesmerised by his blown eyes and the drop of spit that dribbles from the corner of his mouth. He wants to fucking ruin him. But not yet.

He takes his hand from the blond’s grasp – the whimper that leaves his mouth almost makes him cum on the spot. Eren lifts you from his lap, ignoring your pout as he places you right beside Armin.

 “Sit still for me” he says as he slowly palms his cock before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down with his boxers. You hear Armin suck in his breath as Eren’s hard cock slaps against his stomach, your own eyes widening at the sight; in length he almost matches the blonde, but the girth is just… fuck. Even dwarfed by his huge hand it’s almost intimidating, a thick vein reaching his pink leaking tip.

Eren takes his time as he pumps himself, eyes fixed on both of you; he drinks in your pretty, desperate faces, hands clutching the bedsheets as you try not to squirm under his gaze.

“Where do you wanna cum ’Min?” Eren’s question snaps him off a stupor, eyes leaving his groin to settle on your face.

You’re surprised Armin can blush more than he already is as he stutters that he wants to cum on you tits. You smirk as you quickly take off your top and unhook your bra, lust clouding you senses as you lay on the bed, head towards Eren as you motion Armin to straddle your waist. His eyes flicker to Eren and you miss the brunette’s nod before Armin comes on top of you, knees straddling your thighs.

Armin can’t believe just how fucking pretty you look under him, naked except for that cute pleated skirt you’re somehow still wearing. His hand trails up your stomach to squeeze your tits, fingers playing with your nipples as he pumps himself faster.

You feel Eren’s hand cradle your face, “touch yourself” he says, and you do just that.

With your skirt bunched up at your waist and your fingers quickly circling your clit, Armin doesn’t stand a chance; he leans forward, a hand planted on the bed as he cums on your tits with loud moan and your name on his lips, warm liquid painting your heaving chest. 

You watch the blond leaning back against the headboard, desperately trying to catch his breath; you lock eyes with him, toungue wetting your lips as you bring a hand up to play with the mess he made on you, getting high on the look of pure defeat on his face as you take your cum coated fingers back to your clit.

 “Oh fuck” Eren can’t believe how wrecked his own voice sounds “who would have thought you two would be such dirty sluts” he pants, his hand sliding faster and faster against his cock.

 You moan at his words “’Ren p-please can- can I-”

 “Cum.” He orders, and you obey right away.

The sounds that leave your lips are nothing short of pornographic, your body shaking and twitching in pleasure, mouth agape and head thrown back as white lights explode behind your eyelids, any coherent thought wiped out of your brain. Eren chokes out a curse at the sight, soft, high pitched groans echoing in the room until he finally cums with a broken moan, the liquid coating his hand and making a mess on his clothes.

It takes a while before any of you even attempts to move; silence falls in the room once again, except for your labored pants mixed with the music still playing in the hallway.

 Eren is the first to get up and head for the bathroom. By the time you’ve all taken a shower and settled back on Armin’s bed, no one has still said a word. You feel anxiety settle low in your stomach, its grip speeding up your heartbeats.

Did you ruin everything? Is this the end of your friendship? 

 “So who’s the best kisser?”

 Armin’s voice comes out tired and rough, but it puts a halt to the doubts swirling in your mind.

 The breathy chuckle leaving Eren’s mouth sends a wave of relief through your body; “I’m sorry ’Min but y/n is definitely winning this one.” You smile as you feel his hand ghosting over your spine.

 “Yeah, figured.”

The blond curls up against you and you’re still smiling. 

The bed is way too small for the three of you and the night breeze coming from the window does little to cool you down, but you’ve never been better, a warm feeling spreading from where your bodies connect with each other.

 As slumber takes you, you hope they’re still gonna be there when you wake up.

[stark-tony]

most recent bookmarks (6/18/21)

mcu

you game? cake time? by iron_spider (3k, T, pepperony) Peter stares at him.“I’d like your help,” Tony says, gesturing towards the ton of cakes. “Your refined palette.”Peter snorts. He can’t lie, excitement is rising in his throat and in his stomach, and he barely ate at lunch today because he was trying to finish up the book report before sixth period. “Does Miss Potts know you picked me?”“You can call her Pepper.”Peter cocks his head. “Does Pepper know you picked me to help you?”

The Dangers of Sleeping on the Upside of the Bed by Honorable_mention (1.1k, G, gen, quarantine) Midtown High School’s Academic Decathlon team had moved online. Once a week, even during the summer, everyone would log on and chat for a few minutes before trying to beat each other on Protobowl while hurling barely school appropriate threats at each other. It was really quite a lot of fun.Through these online meetings Cindy Moon had gotten the opportunity to intimately learn about her teammates in a way she hadn’t been able to when they were in-person. A person’s room and the way they talked to their family told you a lot about them.In which the members of the Academic Decathlon team get the chance to meet Peter's roommates

something bright coming his way by iron_spider (6.5k, T, gen, hurt peter) “Pete,” Tony’s voice says. “I’m heading to your location.”Peter narrows his eyes. Karen’s colors turn from dark red to a softer blue, which he takes as her celebrating Tony’s imminent arrival. How imminent? What?“What?” Peter says again. Like an idiot.“Your numbers aren’t what I like to see and you stopped moving and I was in the area, anyway. You know. Doing Iron Man things. You okay?”Peter blinks. He sees some more lights out ahead of him that he thinks are headlights, and he feels like Karen is trying to even out his vision by changing how things come across on the HUD. She’s failing, but he won’t say that. Can she read his brainwaves? No. Definitely not. Maybe. Either way he doesn’t wanna be mean to her, so he stops thinking.Ugh, his side hurts.

Of All the Nurses’ Offices in All the High Schools... by sahiya (7k, T, gen, outsiders pov, identity reveal, hurt peter) Peter Parker has his own gravitational orbit, and it tends to suck in the people around him. Including burned out school nurses who were just minding their own business.Or: Patrick Carmichael meets Spider-Man (and Tony Stark), adopts a cat, and gets just a little bit better.

a first time for everything by crowkag (7.7k, pepperony, sick peter)  “Why are you whispering?” Pepper was asking, and the other noises were receding away behind the creak of a door and click of a lock.“Because I’m hosting a vigilante super-teen with enhanced hearing this weekend.” He slumped back into the couch cushions. “Or did you forget?”There was a sharp intake of breath.“Peter? Oh god, what did you—”“Nothing,” Tony rushed out, scrambling. “He’s fine. The kid’s fine, honey.”A beat of silence.“Okay, well, he’s not fine, but—”“Tony Stark—”

Is he or Is he not? by Omenthia_Arc (43.2k, G, pepperony, 5 + 1, people think peter is tony’s kid) Five times someone thought that Peter was Tony's biological son and one time everyone thought it.

hp

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy (35.7k, M, drarry, post-hogwarts, domestic) When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

The Wrong Sort by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle (289.5k, T, drarry, romione, gryffindor draco, canon divergence, torture)  In which Draco Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor and everything kind of goes to Hell from there… but hey. At least there’s a chance he won’t grow up to be an awful person. Alternatively titled ‘Draco Malfoy and the Worst Goddamn Seven Years of His Life’

The Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid (998.6k, E, drarry, wolfstar, romione, neville/ luna, grindeldore, lockhart/snape, time travel, fix it, abuse) All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.Suddenly, Draco has an unwanted second chance, with a Sorting Hat that doesn't know what to do with him, a certain Muggleborn who won't leave his study table alone, and green eyes he just can't get out of his head. And then there's his new wand, whose choice of him could just mark him as every bit as dark a wizard as his name means he should be.

more than getting by by sarewolf (34.4k, M, wolfstar, wolfstar raises harry) “What do you want me to do?” Remus says, tiredly. All he wants is to curl up on his bed. Smoke a pack of cigarettes. Get drunk. He can’t stop looking at Harry.“Remus...” Dumbledore is gentle. Remus hates when he has that tone. Hates that he knows it will hurt. “There is no one else left.”A bitter laugh escapes him. “So you’ll curse the poor thing with a werewolf for a guardian?”

How Like Home by waitingondaisies (63.5k, T, jily, dimension travel) When Sirius falls through the veil, Harry chases after him, determined to find him on the other side. Instead, he finds nothing at all. When he wakes up, he is informed by Unspeakables that he is from an alternate universe.Thanks to his uncanny resemblance to his counterpart, Harry is readily recognized as a duplicate of Harry Potter, a normal fifteen year old boy, and is entrusted to the care of Lily and James Potter. From them, Harry discovers that Voldemort is not, and never was, a threat in this universe.Now, Harry must adapt to life with loving parents in a peaceful world.

Professor Black by Haunted_Frost (29k, T, wolfstar, professor regulus black) Kreacher's unending loyalty has allowed Regulus to survive the Inferi. In order to destroy the horcrux and ensure Voldemort's death, he goes back to Hogwarts, this time as a Potions professor. Years at this position give him new insights, even as the papers rave about how both the Blacks were traitors to their sides.When Sirius gets loose from Azkaban, Regulus knows one thing: he is not going to let his lunatic brother hurt his students.Inspired entirely by this tumblr post.

atla

(let me be) there for you by lesmiserablol (8.5k, T, zukka, post-war, bodyguard sokka, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers) Sokka pulls out a clean piece of parchment and starts to write:Reasons Why Sokka Would Be A Great Bodyguard for Lord ZukoHe smiles in satisfaction at the title. Seeing it in writing only makes him feel more confident in this brilliant, two-minute-old idea of his. Zuko is one of his closest friends, and Sokka is a great fighter, he would be the perfect bodyguard! He has the entirety of his trip in the Fire Nation to prove it to Zuko. This is going to be a piece of cake.(or, Sokka mistakes his crush for just a strong desire to be a guard for Zuko, and Suki is amused)

boy problems by burnt_oranges (22.2k, zukka, mailee, friends to lover, post-war, arranged marriage) “I accidentally signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka,” Zuko says faintly. He sits up so fast he almost falls out of his chair. “I signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka, and he agreed."In which Zuko suffers in a variety of ways, including but not limited to: close and constant proximity to the object of his affections, assassination attempts, and irreparable injuries to his dignity.

we really should google these things first by Bundibird (3k, G, gen, modern) Sokka's aloe vera plant is in need of a good pruning, and what's Sokka gonna do, just throw out all the pruned leaves? When instead he can make aloe vera juice? Come on. (Only - maybe he should have googled this beforehand. Because it turns out there's an edible kind of aloe, and a toxic kind. Guess what kind Sokka has. Go on, guess.)(Or: the modern AU based on the time I nearly poisoned myself with a non-edible succulent.)

spn

Checked Out by whelvenwings (27.1k, G, destiel, dreamhunter, library au, librarian castiel, writer dean, openly bi dean, misunderstandings)  Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

Aim and Ignite by wincechesters (10.3k, M, destiel, cas in the bunker)  After the angels fall and Cas loses his grace, and with Sam still recovering from the toll taken on his body by the trials, Dean starts a prank war as a way to lighten the mood in the bunker and alleviate his boredom. It might just have some unexpected consequences. --- A post-S8 canon AU.

bnha

Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains (among other things) by ADyingFlower (54.2k, T, gen, quirkless midoriya, villain deku) Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains, denies being a villain, has his beloved animal crossing file threatened, kicks ass with a shotgun, is proposed to, learns to deal with his depression, and accidentally kidnaps the son of the number two hero. In that order.Or: Five times Izuku played online with his friends, and one time he played with them in personThen Himiko screams.“CAPTAIN!” “Y-yeah?” Tomura asks almost hesitantly. “LOOK!!” All four of them spin around, right as a cannonball comes soaring inches from Izuku’s head from the Galleon less than a three feet away from them. They scream. “OH FUCK NO NO NO NO! NO!” Dabi yells, running to load the cannons. “DUDE WE HAVE SO MUCH SHIT! NO! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”“Hey guys, guys! Hey, chill!” Izuku shrieks frantically, right as one of the players boards their ship and starts shooting. “CHILL THE FUCK OUT!”

our trust shot full of holes by nolov (louscr) (25.9k, T, gen) When he's twelve, Izuku meets his best friend. Neither of them are especially good at having friends, but they make do.The other shoe drops less than a week into his first year at U.A.

Are You Valued? by cyber_phobia (9.2k, T, dad for one)  "What are you drawing, Izuku?" Hisashi asks with adoration dripping in his voice. "It's Uncle!" Izuku shouts, smacking his dad's arm for daring to ask once more. All the air leaves Hisashi's lungs in one fell swoop.

To Spark A Smile by awefull (1.1k, G, gen, dadzawa) A six-year-old. Aizawa was the guardian of a six-year-old. Aizawa, a pro-hero, who had poor eating habits, and no sleep schedule, was in charge of raising a little girl.He, reasonably, had some concerns.

Long Night in the Valley by Marsalias (53.7k, T, gen, suspected traitor, dad might, dad for one) On paper, the Hero Commission's plan to investigate Midoriya Izuku under the guise of a training course for combating mental quirks is solid, almost foolproof, even. If Midoriya turns out to be innocent, they can pass everything off as part of the training exercise, assuming he even remembered any of it. Otherwise, they could beg forgiveness after the traitor was securely imprisoned in Tartarus.The paper plan failed to take into account the feral ghosts living in Midoriya Izuku's head, or his equally feral living friends.Time to bring on the chaos.

i gave the voices in my head a megaphone by hannahbal (17.3k, todoroki/midoriya/shinsou) ...and they started singing Megan Thee Stallion.(Hitoshi, like any good friend, brainwashes Izuku’s anxiety away for a day so he can know some peace. The problem? Izuku has no fear of god or consequences.Izuku also has no goddamn filter.)

Nothing Could Be More Worthwhile by Krisington (3.5k, G, gen, dad might) Toshinori Yagi wouldn’t say he had let his guard down in retirement, not exactly. It was more accurate to say that he had let his guard down in his true form. He didn’t notice others, and others didn’t notice him. It had become a small pleasure, he realized, one he was reluctant to let go.He should have known better.The man managed to reach All Might’s forehead a split second before All Might grabbed the man’s arm. But a second was just enough.A villain showed All Might a vision of Izuku. Bloodied. Broken. Fading. Was that some future that would come to pass? Toshinori needed to do everything in his power to make sure it wasn't.

everything i wanted by raindrops_0 (9k, T, gen, 5 + 1) Izuku turns to face Hitoshi and flashes a bright smile, eyes folding into crescent moons.Bright like the afternoon sun swallowing Hitoshi whole, bright like All Might’s fucking perfect grin, bright like he’s already a hero.Bright like everything Hitoshi has ever wanted and then more.(Hitoshi can’t help it, but he hates. Of course Izuku can smile as if the whole world is in his hands. He’s never had to fight for every little thing and be hated for it.)Or 5 times Hitoshi misjudged the golden boy of UA, and 1 time he finally understood.

hp/bnha 

Bend Before You Break by orkestrations (16.2k, T, gen) When Izuku set out for his morning run, the last thing he was expecting was to be plucked from his own world by magic and thrown into another universe entirely.Removed from his own conflict and with no way back, he sets himself to figuring out this world and its own incipient war while searching for a way to possibly reverse the spell that brought him here.It's just his luck that the year he arrives is the same year the government decides it's a great idea to bring back the potentially-deadly tournament.

[rosaetae]

among the evergreen

☇ “The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do”

➣  pairing: reader x jungkook

➣  genre:  christmas themed, modernfantasy!au, e2l!au, fluff

➣  word count: 12.6k

➣  disclaimer:  this is literally an exaggerated satire of Hallmark Christmas movies filled with eggnog crack for the holiday spirit. please do not take this seriously. happy holidays! 

➣  summary: the odd christmas wedding with the odd christmas runaway with the odd christmas adventure with the odd christmas stranger

"You can't be serious right now, ___."

"Hyunjung, I've never been more serious in my entire life." Grabbing a chunk of clothes from your closet that ranged from sweaters to leggings, you shove it into your duffel bag. "This version my parents made of me?— I'm not her. They seriously think they're going to discipline me by selling me off to a man I don't know?"

"Oh, don't be dramatic. They're not selling you off, they just arranged a marriage for you."

You open your mouth, gaping at her. "Even worst! Where's my consent? Where's my sense of individualism?! I'm an adult and yet, they're giving me away to a random person they arranged a marriage with just last year!"

"And may I remind you that you're getting married to that random person in two weeks, ___. Perfect for a Christmas wedding," Hyunjung optimistically exclaims over the FaceTime call, removing her towel that was wrapped around her head and combing her hair with her fingers. "I don't think you should be leaving."

You cringe at her romanticizing an arranged marriage that takes away your sense of freedom.

"No, Hyunjung," you point your lotion bottle in your hand at her. "The version that my parents fabricated of me— she. She's the one getting married in two weeks. I, however, am taking a trip to Europe."

"Europe?" She repeats, nearly gaping at the sound of that. "That's why you need me to drop you off at the airport? Europe? Are you joking me?"

You nearly snort, folding one of your t-shirts messily and tossing it into the duffel. "You thought I was joking when I took that trip to Greece by myself. Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Insane. You're absolutely insane."

"I hope you say that in a good way," you throw a wink at her.

"You cannot be serious."

"And why not? I'm my own adult! I can go to another country myself. Plus, you remember Hana, right? She offered a place for me to stay in London."  

Hyunjung raises her eyebrows. "And you're sure Hana is going to let you into her humble abode and take you in?"

"98% sure," you pause for a moment, continuing on to your last minute packing of shoving whatever you could into a duffel. "The 2% is only if I actually get there before she leaves for Amsterdam."

"Wait, what?"

"I should be getting there before Tuesday night, hopefully. If not, then I'm stuck to tend to a motel for a couple of nights until she comes back from finishing that research project in Amsterdam," you snort. "Which will be unlikely. I scheduled a plane for Italy that leaves tonight. From there, I have to take a bus to Belgium to take a ferry to London, so essentially I should be there before Monday."

"Why not take a straight plane to London?" Hyunjung inquires, evidently confused to your excessive and over-the-top plan.

"Where's the fun in that?" You chuckle, grabbing your backpack. "Do you wanna hear my plan that I originally called you for?"

Hyunjung makes a motion with her hand, urging you to proceed into such plan that you always make up to escape your drowning parents.

"A couple nights ago, I bought a plane ticket to Italy. I went to a travel advisor today and paid for a bus and a ferry with cash. This way, my parents will simply think I'm in Italy and while they'll most likely hold this whole huge crazy man hunt for me in Milan, I'll be in London, living my own life, single as a bird. Maybe drinking tea with the queen, perhaps."

The thin look Hyunjung plasters on her face is as if she was talking to someone who told her that she was having twins— maybe even triplets.

"Okay," she begins slowly, squeezing lotion into her hands. "Where do I lie in all of this?"

"What?" Narrowing your eyes at her mischievously, you smirk. "You think you have a role in my plan to be set free?"

"I have a role in any devious plan you make up in your head to get the hell away from your, and I quote, "insane, restricting puppeteers of parents"," she scoffs, making you laugh. "Now what is it? Do you want me to lie to them that you're in Italy?"

"See, you're already ahead of the game!"

She rolls her eyes.

"I just need you to lie that I did go to Italy only for a few weeks and if they press you, just tell them that that's all I told you. Easy."

"Yeah, until your parents try to blackmail me."

"They've never blackmailed you."

"Yeah," she exclaims before biting her lip. "But they could!"

"They won't do that," you roll your eyes at them. Sure your parents are strict, but they find blackmail a bit too extra. "Look, are you going to pick me up soon or not? I have a flight to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs. "I'll leave in five."

The parents that you call yours were indescribably suffocating.

Over-exaggerating, but you do try to peer at it from their perspective, but all you see is publicity and reputation in a string of lies and facades— all of which is clearly evident because you were grown up to keep such a good reputation.

Daughter of a CEO of an oil company and a broadway star, your life was bound to be molded into the flawless model of what a family should be. From the fake smiles on the news to having to be present at elite parties that nearly make you want to rip your brain out, doing one wrong thing would be an instant detrimental effect to your family.

And being tired of having to keep an ideal picture during the day, you sneak out during the night under fake names and fake personas— you are not the daughter of two important people, you are yourself.

Not getting caught was your specialty. It progressed well over time, knowing how well you can harbor in the dark for so long without being exposed, but that week-long trip to Greece was what probably ruined your streak when your mother found out you were not on that school trip upstate, but you were oceans away, relaxing in the nice beaches of Corfu.

Maybe then your mother has gone insane trying to maintain a good reputation for you, but an arranged marriage? Something they've never told you about since two weeks ago? Hell, you were going to drop everything and go off grid just for the arranged marriage to not happen.

And that's exactly what you're going to do.

The current position you're, unfortunately, in is not ideal to your original plan you have set out for yourself.

Muscles growing tired, you've become exhausted, a tad bit dehydrated, and you had an odd craving for something with chocolate. And to tie it all off, your bus driver had just announced they are scheduled to depart a little later than usual as you sat at the window seat, pondering about the extra time you could've used to get a bottle of water and maybe some fudge brownies from the store, but sacrificing this seat is not apart of your plan.

So you sit there, watching strangers trickle in slowly to find seats on the bus, and thankfully none of them took the chance to sit in the empty seat next to you. As you finally grow a comfort in your seat, ignoring your growing dehydration and aching muscles, you may have spoke too soon when you felt the bus almost shake by how the one stranger slipped into the seat next to you with heavy momentum.

Glimpsing at the panting stranger, you shift your crossed legs to point towards the window. You don't see his face well enough, but you didn't show much care when you lay back into your seat. "Woah there, cowboy, we depart in twenty. You didn't have to rush and crash into this seat beside me."

"What?" He says, breathlessly. You can tell from the corner of your eye, he's giving you a questionable look. "It's supposed to depart at 10:30."

Snorting, you fix your posture. "Yeah, well, delays happen, big guy. It's going to be 11 now. Nice entrance."

As you peek at him, he don't miss the eyebrow he raises at you. Settling in nicely beside you, he holds out his hand in a polite manner. "Jungkook."

You glance at his hand and back at him, going back to leaning your head against the head support. "Hi."

"Ah," he takes his hand back after he notices you not taking it. "So you're going to make me ask you for your name?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "I'm not making you do anything?"

"I introduced myself. It's a common courtesy to at least share a name back, but seeing that you didn't tell me your name, you're in turn ruining that common courtesy by having me ask you for your name."

"Or I'd rather keep my name to myself than reveal it to an utter stranger," you smile. "Nice try, but you haven't earned my trust enough to know my name."

He has a fixed gaze on you. "Did you want my life story in exchange?"

"That depends. How badly do you want to know my name?"

"Well," he lets out a dramatic sigh. "When I was little, my mom and dad got divorced and my mom married another man—"

"Hmm, see, " you cut him off. "I can't even trust that's a real story. Guess we're better off as strangers."

He chuckles as you close your eyes.

And that's how you shut him up from then, when the began to depart, and in the midst of just entering the freeway when you make the mistake of grabbing a small bag of pretzels from your backpack and sitting back to eat them in hopeful silence.

"Why are you heading to Brussels?" The stranger asks mid-crunch of your pretzel.

Your eyes widen slightly by the sudden question, before you're shrugging at him in response. "None of your business."

It would be easy to tell him that you're only there to catch a ferry, but along with that will follow up more questions— talking to him was draining enough.  

He lets out a light scoff. "A simple question."

"That's none of your business."

Jungkook cocks his head to the side as you're chewing on your pretzels. "Are you always this hard to crack?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Not really, but it's definitely getting a rise out of you."

"So I sit next to a dipshit named Jungkook who probably has daddy issues," you throw at him, referring to his previous said fact about him to exchange for your name. "Long hours ahead of us."

"And I, for one, intend to make the most out of it by trying to get to know you."

You snort, pulling out your earphones from your pocket, closing your eyes for the last time until the next stop. "Good luck."

Fortunately for you, when they flutter open, the bus had made a stop in the middle of a venue with greens and whites that catches your eye as you peer out the window. Making it quick, the bus driver announces for a 20 minute break parked in the Swiss Alps, instructing where the bathroom is and demonstrating a shop just in sight.

"Finally," you breathe in relief, feeling your dehydration grow with each second.

You ignore Jungkook and the fact that he was blocking you just slightly to take your break when you squeeze your way between him and the seat, making room for yourself between the people packing in the bus aisle to leave the bus as well.

The air was crisp and your breath was evident every time you exhaled, taking you aback by the wonders of the place around you. The skies were grey, but the massive trees and the sparkling fresh snow of the woods is what makes you wide-eyed.

And you think about how there are so many wonders in the world that your parents have not made you seen. Sure, you've visited Switzerland, but only for pure business. Never once were you told that you could explore and initiate that wanderlust that always grew inside of you when you're away from home.

Taking your boots and trudging through the snow, you follow the flock of people from the bus who are noticeably going inside one of the small wooden buildings or heading to where the restroom signs were.

Grabbing a water bottle along with a bag of chocolate-covered almonds, you're about to buy something with the cash you exchanged with Swiss Franc, when you tiredly see that the line was taking awhile. Letting out a yawn, you divert your attention out the window, only to see something interesting just nearby.

It was a cottage that looked completely different from the similar buildings like the store you're in. Squinting, your curiosity gets the best of you as you're trying to get a better look of it, noticing that there evident trails of moss on the roof, creating a rustic aura, as well as interesting charms being hung on the patio.

You wonder what's inside, completely enchanted by its appearance and its—

"What are you buying?" The voice of your familiar, annoying seat partner appears by your side, causing you to jump out of your thoughts and to scowl at his arrival.

"You don't ever know how to leave someone alone, huh?" You sarcastically grin to which he responds with a smirk, shaking his head.  

"Just you."

You give him a look before you're buying it. "Give me some space, Jungkook."

"I don't know if you're allowed to say my name when I don't know yours, gingercake."

You give him a fake smile before you were finally next in line and Jungkook seemingly follows you to the register. When you notice he's beside you empty-handed, you give him a pointed look. "You're not buying anything?"

"No," he replies. "I don't need anything."

"So, you're just here to annoy me then."

"Essentially," he laughs before he nods his head to a certain direction. "You noticed the cottage out there, too?"

"Quite creepy that you're watching me, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "Think of it what you will. But you didn't answer my question."

"I don't answer to strangers."

"But we're not," he says. "We're bus buddies."

"No," you cringe at the term he made for both of you as you grab the receipt and your snacks. "No, we're not."

Before he would say anything more, you make a hurried walk for the door, back turned to him.

"Oh, come on," he persists as he tries to walk beside you. "Is your name embarrassing, or something?"

"My name is none of your business."

"You're being so stubborn over a little thing. Are you like a wanted criminal? Is that why?"

You gasp dramatically as if he was correct. "Yes! Right on the nose!"

"Come on," he continues, knowing very well your sarcasm was not a pretty trait on you. "I'm not a snitch either way."

"No, but you do know how to get on my nerves."

"That hurts," he chuckles. "Come on, it's just a name—?"

You turn over to him in brooding irritation. "That you don't deserve to know, end of discussion. Jungkook, please, I am of little importance to you and you to me. Not knowing my name won't hurt you in the long run. So please, can I spend the rest of this bus ride without you bombarding me asking me what my name is?"

Jungkook looks at you before he puts his hands up in defeat. "Fine. But for the record, I have never met anyone so protective over something so little like their name."

"And I've never met someone so pushy, but here we are—" As you turn around, you notice that the bus was gone and your eyes widened.

"No, no, no," you mutter before you're sprinting towards the road and just there, the bus was moving further down the winding road, growing tinier within the second.

"Great! How absolutely peachy! We missed our bus!" You groan, removing your beanie from your head, exasperated. You turn over at Jungkook who just so happens to finally catch up to you, noticing the reason for your distress.

"It's fine, don't panic."

You turn over to face towards the standing dumbass with a baffled look. "We're in the middle of the fucking Swiss Alps, idiot! There is no service here. How the hell are we going to get to Brussels now?"

"Look, just calm down. Let's go inside and see if the cashier can help."

However, going into the store didn't help when the lady at the store didn't have any type of phone to help you contact anyone, nor was she interested in helping you both so she pointed you towards the cottage you happened to stare at earlier.

At first, you didn't oppose the idea, very curious as to what this cottage has to offer. And when you step onto the patio and a notice a wooden sign that says open, Jungkook is the first to turn the knob and take a step.

Remarkably, you're not walking in with fear, but you're walking in with a curious mind— and when you happen to step inside, you're not quite disappointed.

It was breathtaking— something you've never seen before. There were rows and rows of jars filled with herbs of sorts and odd colorful gems and crystals were displayed with the occasional plants that hung from the ceiling. A bucolic, yet eerie feeling was blossoming in your chest that you don't notice that you've walked farther in than Jungkook.

"Hello?" Jungkook calls aloud. You peer behind yourself, noticing his wandering eyes as you turn your head back front, focusing on the table with a crystal ball.

"Hello, is anyone here?" Jungkook tries again as you wonder where every single ancient thing came from before the sound of foot steps makes you pause, moving backwards to stand behind Jungkook.

"Visitors?" A voice of whom you'd assume belonged to a female spoke aloud in the unreal way possible.

As she makes an appearance coming out of one of the corridors, you notice that out gracefully comes a woman of red hair and piercing green eyes, lips decorated in berry and cheeks of a deep plum. Her clothing was almost a gypsy, but she wore a coat of fur over the gold jewelry she wore on her neck and hips.

"And what is this?" She brings a finger to her lips in utter astonishment and peculiarity, eyes narrowing to focus on you and Jungkook. "A wreath's bond?"

A what bond? You think.

Jungkook and you take a moment to glance at each other, exchanging odd looks before looking back at the woman who was shuffling towards the circular table with the crystal ball sitting in the center of it.

"Ah, you two don't know," she observes, laughing hysterically and taking a seat. You're confused, but there was an odd feeling in your stomach that seemed to give some sort of trust to her. "Come, you two. Sit. I have a feeling about you both."

"Actually," Jungkook begins, grabbing your wrist and preventing you from moving towards her. "We were told that you would know how to get to the nearest bus station."

Her head snaps up, and lets out a scoff. "By who?"

"Lady in the gift shop," you answer. "They had no phone, but she told us to come here."

"That damn grinch. Always tells visitors to come here when they need a phone or directions."

"Well, do you?" You ask politely.

"This is the Alps, honey-pie. There is no such thing as service here."

"Great, she sees you as food," Jungkook whispers quietly down to you. "She's going to eat us."

The joke that comes from Jungkook makes you nudge him with your elbow, releasing yourself from his grasp that you didn't realize was still there.

"Is there a bus stop nearby?" You try.

"Not nearby, but I can lead you to a village just an hour travel by walking... well, it's more of a ski resort, but surely there's people there willing to help."

"Where is it?"

She's silent before she's patting on the table, motioning you both to sit.

Jungkook and you hesitate, but you're the first to move, walking towards the lady who could easily kill you, but emanates curiosity that even you couldn't resist. Jungkook follows after you, sitting in the chair across from yours.

"Let me see your hands," she says, palms outwards, awaiting your hands. However, you were reluctant, looking up at Jungkook who was shaking his head discreetly. "Oh, I promise I won't bite. I'm Evanora, the friendly witch of the east."

"A witch?"

"That could explain the crystal ball," Jungkook nods, staring directly at the iridescent ball sitting on the table.

"What did you think I was?" She inquires, a berry-lipped smile on her face. "And the crystal ball is just for decoration. Now, hands. Give."

You, with a slight bit of reluctance, gives your hand to her, Jungkook following after you as the witch throws a smile, to which she closes her eyes and slightly squeezes.

You meet Jungkook's smile he was trying to prevent by the odd circumstance you both were in, you shrugging in uncertainty before Evanora opens her eyes.

She nods, pointing outside her window. "If you go down the trail, you will see cabins."

"Wait, that's it?" Pressing her, you were immediately concerned as to what she saw.

"What I saw," she pats your hand in an eerie manner. "Shouldn't be said."

You open your mouth, curious as to what on earth she could possibly have seen that's making her bite back a smile. Eyes peering over to Jungkook, you shake your head. "It doesn't matter anyways," you scrunch your eyebrows at her words. "Trail? What trail?"

"Packed up by snow. But if you follow the opening of those trees, you will find the village." She gives a smile before it immediately fades.

"What?" Jungkook presses, noticing her mood change.

"I must warn you, there are winter elves ahead."

"Elves," you blink.

"Like Santa's elves?"

"Winter elves," she nods. "Do not interact with them. They tend to distract you from your purpose. And they like to steal anything shiny."

"You can't be serious," you arch an eyebrow.

"You've met a witch. Is it really that hard to believe?" Evanora says as she stands. "Go, embark on your journey, but I will tell you this—"

Jungkook stands quite abruptly, seemingly ready to leave the cabin of Evanora's while you stand up slowly, awaiting for Evanora to finish. "Lose one another, you will lose the purpose."

"We won't lose each other," you promise.  

"I have a feeling that you may," she quietly says, but it was audible for you to hear. "And when you must, your wreath's bond will find you both again."

Scrunching your eyebrows together at the phrase, you're about to open your mouth to ask for explanation.

Immediately, the witch puts her finger up to silence you before she smirks. "The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do."

The two of you searched for the opening of the immense and jaw-dropping trees before you, noticing the snow, as Evanora said, being packed up on a trail, however that didn't stop the two of you from walking down the trail.

When you first begin walking, Jungkook is quiet, knowing that you're in your thoughts. And he was right. The so-called witch made you more concerned, especially after she held your hands and said she couldn't say what she saw. You think of the bad things that she must've seen, ranging from a terrible accident or a betrayal or anything that would bring you in harms way.

"Come on, you actually believe she's an actual witch?" Jungkook asks all of a sudden. He must have noticed your brain turning in the silence. "She didn't give us the best directions. She told us to find a ski resort where someone can help us."

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do," you say aloud, slowly. "What does she mean?"

"Just a whole lot of mumbo jumbo to me," he postulates. "She was probably just saying shit out of her ass." When he sees that you've paused, Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. "You're not telling me you actually believe in that nonsense?"

"I'm superstitious. I believe in ghosts, aliens, mermaids. A witch doesn't sound like nonsense."

Embarrassed wasn't the word you'd say you felt when Jungkook looks at you, flabbergasted after you decree that you believe in the supernatural. Maybe a tad bit awkward, but seeing that he lets out a chuckle, you purse your lips. "You've read Harry Potter, haven't you?"

"No. No, I haven't actually. I just believe in a little bit of magic, that's all."

"I still think the winter elves is a load of bullshit," he states. "Come on. Elves?"

"Yeah," you nod, semi-lying. "Yeah, I know."

From then on, it felt exhausting.

The continuous trudging in the snow with heavy boots felt overtiring, but determination was your factor that kept you persisting. You couldn't afford to miss a day— not when you didn't think of pulling out enough cash from the bank, so paying for a couple of nights at a motel in London will surely give your location away to your parents who are probably on a manhunt for you.

Just then, Jungkook, who was in front of you, stops.

It makes you bump into him, looking up from the white snow to give him a questioning look. Seeing that he points at something in front of him, you glance at the direction, noticing evident small houses that were seemingly built by branches scattered amongst the area.

"Is this it? Are these the winter elves we have to worry about? Oh man, I sure hope they don't eat my toes!" Jungkook howls, hands on his stomach as he pokes at one of the houses on a tree stump. "Oh no, I wonder if they're magical. Are they gonna freeze us to death?"

You stand up straight, rolling your eyes at him. "Pipe the fuck down, asshole," you scold him, punching his shoulder.

"Oh, come on, did you really believe there would be winter elves? Elves? Please, these are houses made out of branches that a hiker probably made—"

His words were muted out when your ears catching something similar to a musical pipe.

"Shh," you bring a finger to his mouth. "Do you hear that?"

Jungkook's words are mute with your finger pressed against his lips while your ears try to pick up what sounded more clearly like a faint flute folk song.

Scrunching his eyebrows, he brings a hand to your wrist, removing your hand from his lips and stares at you intently. Gazing up to him, you stand still when he comes near to you, bringing his previously muted lips to your ear.

"That's the wind," he whispers, causing you to exasperatingly sigh, lifting your hands to push him away as he cackles loudly that he was clenching his stomach once more.

Annoyed wasn't a term you'd settle with how you were feeling at the moment, but as you stand there, with arms crossed over your body, you wait for him to shut up. "For gods sake, come on."

Grabbing his arm, you continue to walk along the veiled trail, his laughter fading away after a long time, and once it did, your breath nearly stops when ahead you see a spread of lights.

"Is that it? The ski resort she was talking about?" Jungkook asks, panting as you shrug, continuing to walk as you saw people in layers walk around. You admire the colors they were wearing, some were neutrals, but some wore festive colors of red and green, gold and white.

"Come on, old man," you tell him as he was trailing further from you.

"Slow down a little bit, would you?" He calls for you as you throw a grin at him, turning back around to keep walking on the cobblestone sidewalk, mesmerized by the village.

After a few steps of being mesmerized of the things around you, you turn around, noticing that you weren't the only thing mesmerized by the things around you, but when you see Jungkook being swept away off his feet into what seems to be a pub by a strand of golden hair, you're once again, annoyed.

Pursing your lips, you let out a sigh and turn around, beginning to walk down the street, easily letting your contempt ease off your chest as you try to look for someone to help by yourself. You didn't even care if you were going to have to leave this ski resort by yourself, that was your whole purpose.

You walk further down, watching in awe as the people decorate their exteriors, putting up tinsel, lights and garlands, those carrying a fresh tree into their homes, and those carrying stacks of presents, curious at how festive the place was being.

Stopping in front of a store, you stare from the outside, admiring the exterior before your eyes narrow, attempting to peek inside the store.

First, you see a spectrum of colors of what your eyes focused to be wrapping paper of different designs and patterns galore. You think it's a gift store, but then, you observe that there are people in rows, wrapping boxes in a quick and swift motion. At first, you're marveling at how fast they're wrapping, tying it all off with a bow on top and tossing it in a pile of other finished presents before you're thinking they resemble something so familiar that—

You're distracted.

Realizing this, you tear your eyes away from the store, continuing to walk, searching for someone who was not tending to decorating or not busy in this ski resort to help you, only when you reach a revelation.

This was no ski resort— at least one without a ski left. And as if Evanora's raspy voice was echoing in your ear, you realize the mistake that you and Jungkook made; you separated.

It is with no hesitation that you're walking with a brisk pace, others on the street looking up at the foreigner walking towards the pub in such a hurry.

You pull on the door, a bell indicating that customer walked in, eyes searching for the person you were warned not to split from, implicitly ignoring that others were looking at you with a strange curiosity.

Walking inside and letting the door shut behind you, your eyes graze upon the small pub before they stop to the familiar raven-haired boy talking to the blonde in which her pernicious coquetry was evident even from afar.

You're about to grab Jungkook from his arm in attempt to drag him away, but you stop when you see that the blonde seductively takes a finger to his neck, tracing a line down his throat to hook her finger along the silver chain that was tucked under his shirt.

Nearly vomiting whatever was in your stomach at the sight in front of you, you crinkle your nose in utter remorse when Jungkook looks at her up and down, a smirk on his face.

The sight merely makes you leave the pub, until you turn around adamantly, only to remember what Evanora was saying— they tend to distract you from your purpose.

Groaning distinctly, you whip towards the idiot and the seducing winter elf, clearing your throat at the two who were sharing a laugh together.

"Oh, hey," Jungkook looks up at you briefly before looking back at the blonde. "There you are. Where were you?"

"Can I grab you for a second?" You say oddly sweetly, feigning the blonde a friendly smile lifted by your cheeks in which she returns one politely before going back to drinking from her cup. Without even hearing Jungkook try to object, you grab his arm hastily and take him outside.

Jungkook stumbles over his feet for a moment before the crisp winter air hits both of your faces on impact. "Woah there, gingercake. What's going on?" Even with a tug, it doesn't loosen your grip from his arm as you try to drag him away from the pub as fast as possible.

"We're leaving," you utter, but hearing that, Jungkook immediately stops, your turn to be the one stumbling.

Turning around with a huff, you give him a scowl, letting your hand that was digging into his arm go. He opens his mouth, his narrow eyes questioning your motive. "Why?"

"Jungkook, just listen to me."

He crosses his arms across his chest, a smug painting his features. "What if I don't want to?"

You half-heartedly scoff at him, shrugging. "Fine, then stay. I couldn't care less."

He opens his mouth to say something, but even when he could even process words to elicit, you're already turning around again, eyes focusing on the horizon that's being set as your only goal and focus. As you walk ahead with persistence, you curse in your head for even being kind enough to get him out a situation that could easily have him stripped.  

"Hey, woah," Jungkook jogs up to reach in front of you. Stopping to raise an eyebrow at him, you observe him as he gives you an uncertain look. "Is that jealousy in your voice?"

"How rich," you scoff. "Jungkook, I am anything but jealous right now, and you're really testing me." Moving around him, you continuing to walk before he stops you again, looking around to find a gap between stores, pulling you to the side from the strangers who were walking past you both.

"You are!" He exclaims once he successfully pulls you away.

"Jungkook," you exasperate, before lowering your voice. "This is not the ski resort. This is the village Evanora warned us about."

"What?"

"You were flirting with a winter elf, idiot," you whisper loudly. "This is not a ski resort, it's a village of winter elves."

Jungkook half-heartedly laughs, shaking his head. When he sees that your face was anything but amused, his face morphs into confusion. "No, there's no such thing as—"

Rolling your eyes, you shut him up by moving closer to him, eyes not tearing away from his when you bring your finger to his neck, which ultimately makes him freeze at your sudden movements. As you're tracing down his throat, you don't think of anything more as you yank down the collar of his shirt, only to reveal what you originally suspected.

"Where's your necklace, Jungkook?" You ponder, your eyes never leaving his. Jungkook hesitates before he removes his eyes from yours and looks down, your hand not leaving its current state and exposing his bare, pale chest.

He inhales sharply before you finally let your hand go, waiting for his eyes to meet yours again. You take a step back, crossing your arms with slight arrogance as you offer an amused smile.

"She was trying to seduce you, Jungkook," you state. "So she could steal. She obviously did a good job when she made you forget your purpose and stole your necklace."

"For fuck's sake," Jungkook curses, running a hand through his hair. You were close to tell him 'I told you so', but you refrain when he takes your wrist and drags you out of the opening. "Let's go."

The scenery was beautiful, with the green hues that contrasted with the white that was almost so bright it blinded you, but with the little bit of sun that peeked from the clouds, you couldn't help but get distracted with everything around you.

It almost makes you feel like you don't have a crazy dad or an insane mother that expect you to be home in perfect condition just to sell you off to someone you don't know.

You must have been mindlessly walking and trudging in the snow with your boots nearly weighing you down because just when you bump into something, you're about to curse at yourself for being stupid to walk into a tree. That is, until you realize it wasn't a tree, it was Jungkook's form, who had idiotically taken a halt that caused you to bump into him.

"Jungkook—"

"Look," he cuts you off. Peering over his shoulder, your reaction had shifted from annoyance to awe when you notice that the evergreens weren't the only wonder.

Walking down to the ski resort was just over a hill, trudging over inches of snow and having to make sure not to fall face forward. Jungkook eventually sees a bit of struggle coming from you— to which, in your defense, he has an advantage due to his elongated legs— and reaches out to your for support. However, your adamancy slaps his hand away, continuing to walk over the hill to see more of the lights that contrasted the nearing night sky.

"Hey, question," he inquires aloud once the snow had reached scarce and just ahead were the many wooden buildings with warm lights.

Nodding, you spare him a glance, breathing almost heavy as you both continue to walk. "Shoot."

"Don't you think you could've stopped her when she was stealing my necklace?"

Jungkook reaches to your side as you both reach the icy street where people were bundled in clothes. What reassured you were the group of people walking down the street across from you, carrying their snowboarding gear inside a building, their laughter echoing down the streets.

Without pondering, you shrug. "I wasn't the one flirting with her."

"I'm going to ignore your raging jealousy here and ask you one more time—"

"Jungkook, I wasn't the idiot who easily got distracted and forgot what Evanora said," you cut him off. "She said that, lose each other you lose your purpose— and while you were being whisked away by some winter elf, I was trying to find someone to help us. It's not jealousy, it's called not being stupid."

"Great," he exhales deeply. You don't miss the stress that elicited along with it, you cocking your head to the side in sudden curiosity.

"Why? Was it important?"

He waves you off. "It was just a family necklace, that's all."

"A family necklace," you repeat, before scrunching your eyebrows. "Sounds pretty important to me."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he shakes his head as you both continue to walk down the village. "It's gone now."

Feeling a tad bit sympathetic, you reach up to him, matching his pace. "This," you say as you pull out your hand from your pocket. "This was handed to me by my mother which was given by her mother and by her mother and by her mother."

He peers down at your frozen hands, eyeing the ring. "What does the leaf mean?"

You don't tell him that the leaf meant growth.

In your mother's line of successful women, the ring was always passed down so long as there would be potential demonstrated. Your grandmother, being a former model, and your mother, having to be a broadway musical star, you were seen to have potential to be an heiress of the company your father runs— but it's too bad you distasted such high expectations. Hell, you were even willing to have the elves steal this rather Jungkook's necklace when all you're doing is creating a ruination in your line of successful women.

"It's alright," Jungkook says, shaking his head after noticing your reluctance. "You won't tell me your name, I can't expect you to tell me the meaning of your family ring."

At first, you're taken aback at how easy that was for him to say that, especially after trying to have you choke out your name. You stare, flabbergasted but almost grateful he didn't try to push this time.

"The necklace was given to me by my uncle from my mother's side," Jungkook explains nonchalantly as you both unconsciously walk towards the line of cabins that most likely held travelers. "Said he'd give it to his son if it weren't for the fact that his wife can only reproduce daughters."

Snorting, you quirk a smile at him. "How many daughters does he have?"

"Five," he chuckles. "All of who are very, very annoying."

"Why's that?"

"Annoying in a way that they're disgustingly successful," he says. "Runs in the blood except for mine."

To that, you let out a snigger. "I can definitely relate to that."

"What's this?" He laughs. "We're actually having a decent conversation?"

Rolling your eyes, you give him a nudge, shaking your head.

And oddly enough, for once the silence when both of your laughter dies isn't awkward— it's not tension nor is it uncomfortable. It's almost pleasant.

Jungkook, silently, looks at you in a peculiar fond way that makes you slow down your pace a bit. Your insides twist and turn in your stomach at the way he just stares at you without so much of a word— as if he's either judging you or he's admiring you, in which you're hoping deep down it's the former.

You're exhaling a shuddering breath when you desperately decide to ruin the moment, taking one of your hands out of your pocket at pointing at one of the cabins. "Over there," you declare, cheeks beginning to redden. "Let's try over there."

And you do not miss a second to speed up your pace, careful on the slippery street not to slip, hearing Jungkook walking behind you.

When you finally reach to a random cabin with a car parked outside, you're silently hoping that they would answer the door to two strangers.

And with each second passed and your hopes were falling, you hear the door unlatch, your ears perking at the sound when the door opens. A man, wearing a red plaid flannel and a black beanie opens it with a confused look.

"Hello?" He asks and your eyes light up.

"Hi!" You cheerily state, relieved that someone was even willing to open the door. "Sorry to be such a bother, but we're stranded and we were hoping if you knew where the nearest bus station is?"

The stranger nods with a warm smile. "It's down the hill, actually. Quite a trip on foot."

"Is it?" Jungkook asks. "Are there any taxis or maybe Ubers that you know of that's available here?"

The stranger shakes his head. "Nope, but I'd be gladly to drop you guys off there."

"Wait, really?" You ask in surprise, looking at Jungkook with excited eyes. "That'd be really great!"

"Of course," he gleams. "I'm assuming you both need to get to your families for Christmas."

Jungkook and you exchange glances. "Something like that."

"I'll let my wife know and grab the keys."

"Thank you!" You call out, the door being left a crack open as you turn over with Jungkook with excitement. You're nearly about to squeal when Jungkook gives this uncertain look that throws your whole excitement out the window. "Alright, what's in your panties that got you in a twist?"  

"You really trust this guy?"

Your expression falls, shrugging. "He's got a car— unless you want to walk another who-knows miles on foot by yourself?"

"We can't trust everyone we meet, you know."

Ironic he said that. Your expressions falls as you narrow your eyes. "Says the one who trusted a winter elf."

Sure, pettiness could be drawn from tHe opens his mouth to make a riposte, but the stranger comes back with his keys and a coat over his shoulders.

"I'm Seokjin, by the way," he introduces himself as he unlocks the car, both you and Jungkook sitting the backseat. He turns the engine on, immediately turning on the heater that felt like cold air at first.

When he backs up out of the snow without the problem of getting stuck, you feel your body at ease as you finally realize that your plan was setting back on track.

Seokjin speaks up, apparently disliking the silence that you both elicited. "How did you guys get stranded?"

"Our bus left without us," you tell him. "It was his fault."

Jungkook gapes at your accusation. "Oh, nice, we're pointing fingers now?"

Couldn't help but laugh in return, you counterfeit a smile. "Can't deny it."

"You know, for a person to look so nice," Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "You're an absolute pain."

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," you send a wink his way, immediately frowning afterwards. "Piss off, Jungkook."

"Love to, gingercake, but looks like we're stuck with each other for—"

And just then, Jungkook's voice trails off by the sonorous jolly laugh that comes from the man  in the front seat. You turn your attention to him, wondering why on earth he would be laughing. "Sorry. You both remind me of my wife and I."

"What?" Jungkook and you say in unison.

"We used to banter like that a lot."

To that, you snort. "Banter is an understatement. Can't help it when he's a walking idiot."

"And she's a headache in human form," Jungkook pipes in, to which you glare in return.

"Well, my wife used to call me dick for brains," he adds, a jolly chuckle following after as he reminisces his memory lane. "But, I guess I must have warmed up to her if she somehow let dick for brains marry her."

"Yeah, well, she's much more stubborn and colder than that. I don't even know her name."

"You don't?" His eyes peer in the rearview mirror to give us a glance.

"We just met. And besides," you reason, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. "It's not important."

It really wasn't. Your name isn't really your identity when all you think about when you hear it is high expectations. If you let your name be known, everyone is bound to find out who you are and eventually— with word getting around— your mother will find out where you are running away to.

Sure, you could make up a fake name, but you'd be creating bridges even after this trip you know you're going to have to burn them.

He chuckles. "I remember my wife being that stubborn. She really wanted me to give up on her."

"I'm guessing you didn't," you observe.

"She was worth all the constant banters, I'll tell you that," he shakes his head. "Once, she didn't want to admit she was sorry for keeping us a secret from her friends and family. It took her three months of guilt to finally say sorry."

"Three months?" Jungkook ponders. Seokjin nods behind the wheel.  

"It took her time to tell her friends and family about us, but she eventually apologized."

"She must have been scared to want to hide it from them."

The idiot next to you snorts. "Or embarrassed."

"Scared," he answers. "Which is why I forgave her the day I found out about it."

"And you let her feel guilty for three months?"

"I knew she was sorry from the beginning. I just didn't think that the most adamant person in the world would even think of apologizing to me," he chuckles. "But hey, eventually she did."  

To that, Jungkook lets out a chuckle before he's making a trip around the roundabout, making a stop in front of a wide building.

"Here's your stop," he says, putting the car in park. "You two have a nice Christmas, alright?"

You smile at him. "You and your wife as well. Thank you again for helping us."

He shoots you a smile just before you close the car door. "Anytime."

When you hurry inside the bus station, you totally forget about the time until you see it on the massive clock built in the station, and you sincerely hope that the next bus ride to Brussels would be in the next 2 hours. Luckily, as you and Jungkook stood in line for awhile, you both get a ticket for the next bus to your destination which comes in the next twenty minutes.

And as you're trying to forage for remaining cash, you realize that you were short. Jungkook must have noticed this when he coolly steps up and gives his cash, paying for his and your ticket. You look at him, surprised, when they give two tickets to him.

"You didn't need to do that," you utter to him as he gives your ticket.

He shoots you a winning smile, a wink following after. "All you have to say is thank you."

The entire trip of having to hike down the woods was more exhausting than the plane ride to Milan that you couldn't help yourself when you fall asleep on the bus ride. Jungkook must have knocked out too when you wake up in the middle of a bus stop, head on his shoulder.

You think of the possible reason as to why he would be going to Brussels. After all, this whole trip was of him trying to ask questions of you, not the other way around. And it's not like you weren't interested— it wasn't your priority to get to know someone you won't end up knowing in the next week anyways.

Because like everything in the world, not everything is permanent.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder once more, basking in the comfort that will only last for so long.

Getting off the bus at your desired location, you both realize that it reached dusk, the sun had made its set and the night has become dark. It made a stop just nearby a grand area of colorful lights that intrigued you from afar.

You turn around to face Jungkook who stretches as he hops off the bus. Shooting tired smile your way, you decide to give one back.

"Do you want to go see what's over there?" You ask him, nodding your head towards the place that caught your attention.

His eyes flicker from what you were indicating to yours, a mischievous look painting over his former tired one before he angles his arm, in which you gladly take as you both make way to the bright, shining lights before you.

It doesn't take you long to realize that it's some sort of Christmas Market, as advertised by some of the posters that you saw on the way to the big area.

There were chatters and squeals and Christmas songs galore and despite the weather being cold and brisk, you felt warm.

Saying that there were colorful lights would be an understatement, when really, the Christmas Market looked like an utter theme park within itself. The tall, elongated buildings were decorated from head to toe and even the gazebos that gave shelter to those selling— it was all breathtaking.

It must have taken Jungkook's breath away too when you catch him eye goggling at the many fascinating attractions around him.

"So," you begin, ready to take your first bite from your waffle that Jungkook bought for you after he saw you eyeing it from afar. "Why did you want to come to Brussels?"

The questions surprises him, but his answer was responded with ease. "To start anew."

"Does it have to do with the whole success-running-in-family's-blood-besides-yours thing?"

"You could see it that way," he chuckles. "Or simply because life as it is now for me isn't exciting."

You give him a look, lowering your waffle. "You sound discontent."

"And you sound like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Chuckling, you shrug. "Well, I'll just say that my trip isn't so much of a nice vacation."

"Hm, you sound tired of the life you have."

"Sounds like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

And with that, both of your words are left in the air as you both are walking down, side by side, down the streets of the brightly lit Christmas market, being thousands of miles away from home.

In your own thoughts, you think about the what if's. What if you didn't hear your parents talk about an arranged marriage for you? What if you actually were forced into it like everything you've ever done in your life? What if you're walking down the aisle to meet a man you haven't even said one word to? What if you end up not loving him?

This wasn't any type of romantic story where two strangers eventually fall in love through force, this is was an ending to your own story. Realistically, there's a chance that the person you're going to marry isn't the prince charming or the knight in shining armor that anyone would expect.

And there goes your life.

Gone and wasted, and not being able to give it a second chance.

However, you weren't letting that happen now— not at this moment in time.

"Do you think that such high expectations can be overbearing?" You ponder out loud, glancing at Jungkook who was a bit startled by your sudden question.

"A lot of the times," he responds. "Why? What type of high expectations are you being held to?"

"Doing something that I don't want to do," you state honestly. "That's why I came all the way here."

"Avoiding it?"

"You could see it that way."

"Can't avoid it forever," Jungkook says. Can't avoid it forever.

You don't think you've ever seen a light show— or at least not one against a building that brings people's jaws to the ground, so when you're watching it, you're absolutely mesmerized.

The lights were dancing and moving in a fluid motion, you were marveling each second of it.

There's a feeling in your chest. So bright and so merry, you finally understand why almost everyone loves Christmas. With your family either being busy during the holidays, you never realized that this is what you're supposed to feel like. Light and finally content.  

Gleaming up at Jungkook, you only smile wider when you realize you caught his eyes. "What is it?"

There was this ghost of a smile on his face that he hides. "Nothing."

You give him a nudge, smugly grinning at him. "It's a simple question."

When he hears you repeat his statement in target to him, he gives this smirk— and for once you're not looking away in irritation or giving him some snarky comment back because when his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes, you knew what was bound to happen.

And you were inevitably going to let it.

Jungkook, with gentle hands, brings you to him, pressing his warm lips onto yours and it is as if you felt your entire body just melt. You move softly against his lips, savoring every bit, but your lips were not helping themselves when they curl into a smile.

He is warm. Like a mug filled with hot chocolate, he is a fireplace on a Christmas eve, and admittedly, you've never been this warm in the cold.

When he lets go, he's looking at you with eyes shaped as crescents. "You trust me enough to kiss you but not know your name?"

To that, you let out a joyous laugh, reaching up on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll have you know that revealing your name is dangerous."

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands from your cheeks. "How dangerous could yours be?"

You bit back a smile at his subtle frustration, grabbing his falling hands and holding them in yours. "Very."

And all throughout the night, it was filled with cheer and excitement as Jungkook and you strolled around in the everlasting lights. Free samples and attractions at its finest, you both spent your time together forgetting you two had lives you're running away from.

And until your legs couldn't hold you up much longer, you had to go find a nearby motel for the night, forgetting that you had to leave early in the morning for a ferry.

Jungkook and you fought for paying for the room, but Jungkook, being charming in a revolting way, inevitably wins and chooses a room where you both end up with a fireplace and a king bed together.

Just before your eyes were closing, time spent with him was filled with giggles and laughter in the air. He tells you about this one story of how, one Christmas, he thought he saw Santa Clause, but it just his dad's friend dressed in a suit trying to climb chimney for his sake. The story makes you laugh, and though almost unbelievable, it makes you flutter your eyes close, reaching a deep sleep that you desperately needed.

That morning, you feel like a child on Christmas morning— even when Christmas isn't for the next week. You felt excitement twist in turn as curiosity has gotten the best of you that all you wanted to do was run downstairs and open the presents that Santa brought.

However, the feeling was fleeting— because even children soon realize that Santa isn't real. And that breaking feeling was because of reality that waves over you as your eyes fixate on the sun that peeked through the window.

Waking up to Jungkook next to you, lightly snoring, makes you feel all sorts of butterflies— something you haven't felt in such a long while. You feel almost giddy, knowing that there's someone there and it just happened to be him, but of course, you knew it wasn't going to last long.

Not wanting to leave without goodbye, you bring your hand to his arm, giving him a little shake as you wake him up. A smile creeping on your face as he groggily awakes, squinting at your active presence.

"Hey," you say quietly. "I have to go."

Go was what made him sit up in bed quickly. "What?" He asks, voice raspy.

"I have a ferry to catch," you say as he rubs his eyes. "I wasn't going to stay in Belgium."

"You weren't?" He frowns. "Where are you heading?"

"London," you reply and you watch as his tired face falls, sitting up straight. "It was nice. You know, meeting you and all."

He smirks at you. "The feeling's mutual."

To that, you smile. "Well," you shrug, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. It was the least you could do. "Merry Christmas, Jungkook."

"Wait!" He pulls your arm back when you pull away. Raising an eyebrow at him, he looks at you with hopeful eyes. "Not even a name?"

You think you'd owe him a name, but you shake your head. "Maybe the next time I see you," you bit back a smile. "But, no worries, I won't forget yours."

When you get to Hana's place in London, you're glad that you made it just in time before she left for Amsterdam. You were also glad that your duffel bag and backpack that were stranded in the bus that left without you was brought to Hana's after you filed a claim for your missing belongings at the bus station.

Hana welcomed you with an embrace, bombarding you with questions that you didn't have time to answer because she had to leave that night, but she made sure she had enough time to catch up with you. You don't tell her about the colossal, mad adventure you had with Jungkook and how he lingers in your thoughts, but instead you tell her about the good things you expect to happen in your time in London.

And before she left to the airport, she gives you a hug, wishing you all the best luck for the holiday season in exploring a city you haven't been to. While you had the house to yourself for less than 24 hours, you realized that all good things come to end.

Especially when you answer the door and your mother is on the other side, hands on her hips.

You completely froze seeing upon her arrival. "Mom, what are you... what are you doing here?"

Without a word, she barges in, sitting on the orange sofa that Hana owns, crossing a leg over her other as she looks at you with darting eyes. "You think I don't remember Hana moving to London? I knew after you took that trip to Greece that you would make a spontaneous trip to London knowing that Hana lives here, but I didn't expect it this soon— oh." Your mother points at you. "—You are something else."

Being yelled at by your own mother felt like a chore, so you calmly close the front door she walked through, walking over to her. "Mom, I don't want to get married."

Her eyebrows furrow together. "___."

"Look, I'm an adult. Most moms want you to focus on finishing college and being able to make a living for yourself, but no, my mom wants me to focus on being presentable— not to mention that she wants to give me away so quickly! And it's not even with a person I love."

"___—"

You shake your head, cutting her off. "You are not making me go back there and marry someone I don't know."

"Sweetheart," she begins before she stands up, searching for your eyes. "You ran all the way here just because you didn't want to get married?"

"I ran all the way here to live, Mom. I wanted to live and experience life without having to worry about what the media has to think about me. Or having to put on a fake smile knowing that I'm a CEO's daughter and the heiress and that if I mess up, that's on me."

Your mother frowns, but you can only shrug in response. "For once, I just wanted to live. Is that so bad?"  

Finally, you give her her turn. You hear her sigh, almost disappointingly, but if a little disappointment is what will give you what you need, then you can live with it. "Darling, I think then this is a good time to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

She lets out another sigh. "You're not really getting married."

You blink. "What?"

"You must have overheard your father and I when he were talking with Mr. Jeon, but we didn't want to tell you when we first arranged it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not actually getting married," she enunciates. "You're having a wedding to look like you're married, but you don't have to go through with it."

You open your mouth in confusion, but immediately close it when your mother continues.

"In order for your father to establish this business proposal with Arua&Co., the CEO's grandfather needs the approval. By doing that, he needs a traditional reason as to have two major companies combine rather than a very good proposal, and that solution is a wedding."

"But, how—"

"Our loophole is that he specifically said he wanted a wedding, not a marriage— not to have both of our kids actually marry each other. So, if you're dressing up and looking as if you're getting married, you don't have to go through saying 'I do' if you don't want to."

"So you're not really giving my life to someone I don't know."

"That's sick," she full-heartedly scoffs. "I may expect a lot from you, ___, but this is just the one thing we really need you to do. After that day, you're still single as you want to be."  

"Really?"

"Yes, and..." Her voice trails off as you cock your head to the side. "I wanted to tell you this, but because you ran away so soon..." She pauses before she looks at you with a motherly gaze, one that you haven't seen in a long time. "I know that your father and I have a lot of expectations from you, but I know you're an adult. And you need to live your life." You felt your stomach clench. "If you want your freedom, I'll give it to you."

Your jaw nearly falls but she puts her finger up quickly. "With certain restrictions!"

"That's fine— anything!" Nearly squealing, your eyes widen with happiness. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, I'm tired of having to be dreaded by you— my own flesh and blood," your mother laughs. "So, you don't have to come to any of the events we go on. But you will go to the ones we need you to be there for. And you can leave without being monitored, just— shoot me a text from now on. I'm going to get a heart attack the next time you decide to go halfway across the country without letting me know," she says begrudgingly that you couldn't help but give her hug.  

A hug that was genuine. A hug that you haven't given her in a long time.

"Really?" You ask, voice muffled in the hug.

"Really. Merry Christmas, honey," she promises, basking into the hug. "Now, can we go home? After you shower? You smell the bus."

To that, you lightly chuckle, nodding. "Right, but— can I do one more thing?" You ask, pulling away to give her a sheepish look. "Can we go to Switzerland real fast?"

It was a long story of how he managed to be back here, but long story short, Jungkook is one day in Brussels having beer, and now his two best friends are helping him put on a suit.

"I told you running away from your problems is never a good idea," Namjoon says as tends to the cuffs of Jungkook's scarlet velvet suit. Namjoon, the always practical one, was not helping his dread at all on this day.

Jungkook, groaning, looks at himself in the mirror, never thinking that this is how he would be spending his Christmas eve. "I don't want to be here."

"Well, you are and you're going to marry the girl, whether you like it or not," Hoseok asserts, flipping carelessly through his magazine of interior design.

"Thanks," Jungkook says with a hint of sarcasm.

Namjoon chuckles. "You're gonna wanna say I do anyways. I just met her and she's actually really cool."

"It's just... weird. I've never met her in my life and now I'll be spending the rest of it with her," Jungkook states and immediately he thinks of you— the stubborn girl he doesn't know the name and now he's probably never going to find her and actually know her name. Not when he's going to be all over the media platforms after this wedding and you to find out that he's actually an heir to Arua&Co. and married to some girl who probably isn't as adamant, or pretty, or curious as you.

Namjoon shrugs. "Yeah, well. You'll form a bond somehow."

Jungkook looks up from his suit after hearing a bond. Mind immediately tracing back to what the witch— if she even is one— Evanora said: a wreath's bond.

It doesn't take long before Jungkook raises an eyebrow, recalling the moment of when he sat down at the table across from the stranger and next to the witch, stating some sort of phrase— a riddle.

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do— it's today," Jungkook speaks.

"Aw, shit. Great," Namjoon announces, letting go of Jungkook's cuff and tending to his own collar. "Jungkook's been in Europe too long he's saying some whack ass shit."

Hoseok chuckles, continuing to flip through his magazine. "I'm telling you, bro, Switzerland is fucking crazy."

"No, you guys. Two of me— she meant the rings— the wedding rings. You do— she meant saying I do. It's a wedding day. She must be here."  

"What," the man who finally looks up at his magazine cocks his head to the side. "Now you solve random riddles? What did they feed you in Brussels?"

Jungkook, without so little of a hesitation, gets out of the groom's room of the venue, running down the hallway to the grand venue of the warehouse of where the lights are all around, there are mistletoe hung, and all sorts of greens bringing color to the room. But what he was searching for was the most vibrant of it all— only to realize that he sees anyone but you.

And to himself, he scoffs, thinking of how foolish he could have been to actually believe a witch who possibly could not have been one in the first place.

The dress you wear is lace, from your sleeves to your shoulders. Usually, you'd complain about wearing sleeves on a wedding dress— hell, you'd complain about every little thing that isn't much an inconvenience just to piss your parents off for having a bratty daughter. From the wedding dress, to wedding makeup, to the bouquet, to the food— everything will seem just wrong to you— but having that certainty and approval to say no doesn't make you peep one dreadful word.

Admittedly, you liked the idea of having this wedding. It was like a trial run— and you didn't have to oblige to any commitment.

Your mother walks in on you as you had just put on a dress, hair curled, and light makeup— your mother looks at you so lovingly.

"You picked this dress out, huh?" You ask her and she scoffs.

"Only the best for my daughter," she smirks as she walks over to give you a hug. She wore a deep green dress paired with a fur shawl. "You look beautiful. Even if you're not actually getting married today."

To that, you laugh, shaking your head. "If I have to be a runaway bride, might as well look good doing it."

"That's the spirit," your mother smiles, taking one more look at you. "Are you alright?"

"Just preparing how to dramatically say I don't," you joke, earning a mood lightener in the air. "Is the wedding starting?"

Your mother nods. "Your father is waiting for you outside. Whenever you're ready."

It feels odd, truthfully. About to go marry someone you haven't even properly been introduced to yet, but you try not to think about it— because after all, you don't have to go through with it.  

As your arm is interlocked with your father's and you were holding red roses and ferns, you couldn't help but think that this was some sort of fairytale, only for one that you were going to run away from anyways. You think of this just as your father would— solely just business.

As you hear the wedding song play in the audible warehouse, you take a deep breath, your father, giving you a reassuring smile before he starts to take his steps.

Do brides normally feel queasy? No, what were you thinking— you're not actually a bride, and you're not actually going to be married.

Your reassurance in your head makes you feel calm until you're stopping at a spot from across the aisle, where everyone had stood from their seats, countless pairs of eyes staring at you, and only you. Time had froze, but that's not what's making you freeze altogether.

Because standing on the other aisle is Jungkook, the boy from the bus, the boy who went to Brussels who wanted to start anew, the boy who was so curious as to what your name was, the boy—

He was the boy he made you warm in the coldest of nights.

"You alright?" Your father whispers to you, snapping you out of your trance you realized you were in.

"Yes," you answer, eyes not tearing away from Jungkook's.

The person in the velvet suit, waiting for you is just as much in a shock as you are, eyes almost wide, and a look that almost seems like he's relieved to see you. As if he had found oxygen again.

From finally standing in front of him, to staring at him with surprised looks on your faces while the ceremony was taking place, to the very end, you had so many questions and had so many things to say, but couldn't. Instead, you stare at him, thinking what you could possibly say to him to be in this crazy coincidence.

"Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take ___ as your loving wife?"

"I do," he says, his eyebrows scrunching as that was his first time hearing your name. You almost want to snort out loud at how peculiar it is to first hear someone you've been dying to know's name at an alter— standing in front of you. And just immediately, it shakes you because just before, you were thinking of the many ways of how to say you don't, you're actually thinking of saying I do.

"Do you, ___, take Jeon Jungkook as your loving husband?"

The question, that you were so prepared to either say I don't or to runaway dramatically, was left in the air, as you pause. In that moment, you couldn't help but look at the crowd, expecting an answer that was almost obvious— but when looking at your mother for reassurance, she gives you this look and a shrug.

Only if you want to.

Eyes meeting back to Jungkook's chocolate ones, you take a deep breath.

"I do."

"Then Jungkook, you may now kiss the bride."

And there's this big grin you couldn't hide when you notice his little smug look before he's leaning in, recreating the night of when the lights were shining so bright and when just a single kiss could warm you up.

"___," he breathes your name out as if it were fresh air once he releases you from the kiss. "Not as dangerous as I thought."

You scoff, a smile growing. "Just you wait."

He gives you one more look before he kisses you once more, lifting you up from the ground. This time you kiss him harder, confused, yet grateful that this is how you two would meet again— right under your noses.

When he sets you down gently as a feather, he gives you one more look before you slowly both turn over to the crowd who were muted by the moment you had with Jungkook. There was clapping and there was screaming— and you don't even realize that Hyunjung crashes into you with the biggest hug.

"I'm sorry! I tried my best to divert your mom when she asked me if you were in London!" She says, nearly taking your life away as she squeezes you.

"It's fine, Hyunjung— just let me go," you beg, attempting to push her away. As she finally lets go, she gives you look from your eyes to the bottom of your dress.

"I didn't think you'd go through with it," she says, eyes almost tearing up. Rolling your eyes at her, you notice that your mother is walking up beside the nearly crying Hyunjung, an eyebrow raised.

"Neither did I," your mother intervenes. "Is it because he's good looking that you decided to say yes?"

Turning your head to look over at Jungkook who was being hugged and patted down by his groomsmen, you look back to your mother, a big smile painting your features.

"No, actually," you begin. "We know each other."

Your mother is surprised by your answer. "You do?"

"Yes," you smile, looking over at Jungkook. You don't tell her that he was the person who you were stuck with the whole day— the person who made you believe that you could actually live.

"I guess it all works out in the end, doesn't it?" Hearing your mother say that to Hyunjung, you smile to yourself before you're approaching Jungkook who had been waiting for you, and probably has been for awhile.

"I knew you'd be here."

"Really now?" You challenge.

"The day you see two of me is the day same day you say you do," he fluidly states causing you to open your moth amusedly. "A wedding day."

"So, you believe in witches now?"

"Not witches. But maybe just a little bit of magic," he laughs, before he grabs at your waist smoothly, guiding you down the aisle in which you both walk down it, the many people clapping for the newlyweds.

Once he reaches the end where the photographer was snapping pictures, he lets one hand rest at your waist and the other to cup your cheek. He's close, so tremendously close, that his lips only graze yours.

"___," he breathes out with a smirk. "I'm never going to stop saying your name."

And when he kisses you, you feel warm all over again.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

Cats, coffee, an old apartment and... oh, yeah, the apocalypse

Kanene’s note:

Gooooood day, my lollipops! It's been a while!

Oh my gosh. It's colddd. I wanna sleep and write. How, my dears? H o w

Weeeeell, anyway! This chapter is a little crazier. Can you blame him, tho? Remy is pretty sleepy here. xDD

Poor, poor writing desk. :''3

Coffee is, like... 90% of Remy's self control xDDD

At least he is absolutely, completely alone and there was no one for him bother, right?!

Or any monster/alien/enemy to be afraid of!

...

...Right?

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That is just a Crack Fanfic with Remy and the Sides. There will be angst and action, but it will be more centered in Crack, fluff and being a big, crazy family.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* This is the chapter after that one!  The next chapter will be posted soon!

* Something around 1500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* There aren’t any ship, but feel free to see them in a Romantic or Platonic Relationship!!  ^w^)/

* Remy is pretty sleep here, so this chapter can be a little crazy.

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Try and have fun with new hobbies, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                              [~*~]

Chapter 02 - Your time has arrived

Remy stared at the furniture in the middle of his living room with narrowed, uncovered eyes, since it was night and the Sun wasn’t capable to hurt his chocolate, brown pupil irradiating an almost palpable disapproval as he realized the contrast that such object had in his, now completely clean and reorganized, living room. Not that was its fault, sure, he observed while his upper lip twisted into a thoughtful, unpleased feature; the writing desk clearly had already seen better days. Days when its drawers were complete with all its handles, and scratches didn’t adorned the entirety of its length after surviving several moving. Or even a glorious past where its paint was impeccable and free of flaws, as a sneak that can’t decide with color better matches with their scales, therefore they just throw a variety of paint cans on the floor and slide into it in somersaults and the futile hope that it will work out, but then all the paints just get mixed in an old, strange color and then, I don’t know, the paint cans…

 … They fall

 And the snake... become a writing desk and…

 Falls.

 Or something like this.

Look, it’s 4 AM, just because Remy is awake into another insomnia episode, it doesn’t mean he is functional. You don’t expect a metaphor wonderfully meaningful, Shakespeare.

 His eyes wandered through the desk’s extension once again. He has found a Furniture Store halfway to his apartment and now the picture of the said insistently shined in his mind, as if his brain wanted to tell him something but it was too much tired to formulate the message into words and for that reason it just threw random images in his synapses and hoped that would be enough. A handful flashes of memories gleamed in front of his eyes: The lustrous furniture, the small statues, pleasantly useless which everyone knows that will regret of buying in the exact second they step out of the store, the extremely difficult to clean, but also so comfortable and soft and big and soft carpets, beautiful writing desks…

 Yes, yes, yes.

 Beautiful writing desks, unlike that one, they had handles. 

 Handles, writing desk, store, soft… Wait, his living room was also different. It was… changed, organized, new...

 New as a writing desk he saw in a store.

 Oh, yeah.

 He had been wanting to redecorate his apartment for a long, long time, albeit he never found enough… time to do such a thing. However, which time is better than the present? When an apocalypse broke all the notions of economy formerly intrinsic in the society and the money lost all its value since there were no one in the city to valorize it, anymore.

 Or in the whole world.

 He wonder if there is still people in the world. Some part of Remy, that part usually pushed to the dark corners of his mind which currently was too much sleepy to attempt to hide it, hoped so.

 What was he thinking before??

 …

 Oh, yeah. Store, soft (the apartment’s owner let go an annoyed scoff while glanced to his floor and noticed it didn’t looked comfortable in any way, as a child who didn’t gained his favorite toy. Yet, an unsupervised and with a total of zero self-control left in a store without any camera nor people and with enough strength to run away with his toy, child.) and redecorate his living room.

 The coffee lover wasn’t going to overdo it, of course. He already had moved the couch to the other side of the room seeking to modify his television’s position and open free space to the future his gigantic carpet, which he definitely was intending to get. Comfy enough to sleep in case he falls of his couch (something that occurred with a, at least, irritating frequency) and became without reasons or will to get up, so he could just turn and go back to sleep. He also had already cleaned all the room, floor and furniture with a sweet lavender scent which maybe he had exaggerated a bit, no that he would admit that out loud, not even if someone threatened his coffee (Ha! Remy would like to see some bitch try). The only thing that was missing was the desk.

 He clicked his tongue. Yup. His decision has been made.

 “Sorrey, gurl, but I did everything I could. Your time has arrived.” and, with that emotional speech, he started to push it towards his door. Even empty, the furniture was a lot heavier than it seemed.

 His arm muscles ached and his panting breathe was almost as fast as the sweat droplets sliding down his face, certainly only a consequence about how much heavy and almost impossible to move the writing desk was and absolutely not from the thousands of years spent bathed in sedentary lifestyle without doing a single one physical exercise. Pfff. Of course not.

 His brain sent him an accusing memory of a lost battle against a pickle can tightly closed. Remy told his brain to fuck off.

 The adult fixed his glare at the stairs leading to the ground floor and he could have sworn he heard each one of the steps mockingly crackling at his astonished expression, almost as if they knew that no matter how much Remy stared at them with hate, they wouldn’t disappear nor make the travel easier.

 The only soul woke at 5 AM reorganizing his apartment in the middle of a Post Apocalypse tried anyway.

 …

 Shit.

 He turned, seeking to change the angle and thus push the odious piece of furniture better, his gaze then finally fell on the window which had originally been completed and was now just a hollow shadow of his past.

 (Remy was so good at poetry, seriously. He should write a book. He would get rich easily. He would make so much money until the point when he would be able to buy all the Coffee Shops in the world, then he will order someone to build the biggest caffeine shop of the entire world so he could spent the rest of his life there drinking coffee and watching generic Coffee Shops AU’s being canon. Yeah. It sounds like a great plan. Holy shit, he was so fucking smart. How didn’t he have an Oscar, yet?)

 An epiphany struck his mind.

 He looked at the furniture, the stairs and, in the end, his window.

 …

 Perfect.

 A cat warily wandered down the street, his fur bristling towards the sky in an attempt to make them look bigger and riskier that they usually was, something which, honestly, just their two colored eyes shining mid the cold air of night as two danger signs was enough. The same eyes that now fixated themselves on the messy, shattered pile of pieces of wood in their most diverse sizes and shapes that definitely did not belong in that landscape. The feline hissed to the said before hissing towards of the steps which began to echo in the place, clearly showing their dominance before any and every living being that dared to dwell the same planet as them. However, in an act of mercy, the animal got a notepad from the wreckage and elegantly ran out, researching to their next victim. 

 Remy threw some flowers that he found in a forgotten vase on one of his shelves on the remains of what had once been his desk. His ear still buzzing from the previous crash.

 “We spent great memories together. You did your best and now it's time for you to rest in peace.” - Gave some reassuring pats on the wood and jumped back when a splinter got in his finger, probably karma. The coffee lover wished he had his sunglasses on so his clearly superior human gaze would obtain more effect (effect that didn’t had much help with how much he was shaking his injured hand from side to side, a few begin of tears taking over his eyes’ corners. THAT THING HURTS, OKAY???) - “Bitch.”

 And turned away, hair fabulously dancing in the cold, stuffy nighty wind as he departed towards a Pharmacy nearby, which probably should have some tweeze. His steps sounding and being wobbly by the tiredness due all the exercises executed that night and the sleep, his rebel son, who had finally arrived from its walk. Remy asked to himself if the Pharmacy also possess some chair or couch for him lay down, since there was exactly zero percent of chances for him to use the stairs again in such a short period of time.

 His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, calm and low, albeit of tune and words extremely clear, which had cut through the silent street. The sound was already so weird, new and incredibly nostalgic that, for a heartbeat, he was immediately paralyzed. Wide eyes trying to concentrate themselves enough in the form focusing midst the darkness.

[padfootprongslet]

I'm so down for that.

Unwind Me by delgay

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged.

“Can you?” Alex returned.

“No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.”

Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.

When I'm Oceans Away by neapeaikea

While searching for an alien child, Michael runs into Alex, ten years after Alex ran away from Roswell and broke Michael's heart.

A Soft and Elegant Semaphore by InsidiousIntent

Roswell New Mexico is moving forward. Alex Manes is not.

Breathing by EmmaArthur

Kyle calls Liz to tell her Alex is in the hospital with pneumonia. She discovers that she's missed quite a lot of her friend's life lately.

Note: Pretty much anything by this author is a stellar read. Including,  Looking Straight At The Sun

We All Act a Little Bad Sometimes by lostin_space

Alex confronts Isobel and Max on how they treat Michael.

I Never Look Away by Adillard

Post 1x13 fic. With Rosa alive and Max dead, there are a lot of things to figure out. Michael and Alex have to work through things and talk about things that neither wants to.

Mostly Malex with more of Echo to come- my version of season 2 :)

Mostly focuses on Michael and Alex's perspective of things.

More chapters to come-

A Simple Life (but with aliens) by BeStillMySlashyHeart

“I’m leaving Roswell,” he said again, firmer this time. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

Michael’s brow furrowed and he shifted to look at Alex. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I like you. A lot. And I don’t want to lose whatever this is between us. It sounds crazy, I know, we hardly know each other, but-”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed and his face lit up in wonder. “You feel it too?”

Alex moves back to Roswell ten years after leaving but it's not a fractured maybe of a relationship he's coming home to. No. This time, he's coming home to his family.

[The Season 1 rewrite no one asked for where Michael and Alex have been in a long distance relationship since high school and it changes things]

We both carry a switchblade in our sleeves by soberqueerinthewild

An Isobel & Alex post-finale friendship fic. Includes self defense classes and a whole lot of sass.

Team Mutual Support System by Obsessivecompulsivereadr

“Are we developing a mutual support system here?”

“Why not?” she asked.  “We’ve both been fucked over by people who were supposed to love us.  Who better to understand me than you?”

The Cost of Greatness by BeStillMySlashyHeart, reachedthebitterend

“You broke up with Maria,” Alex said quietly, his surprise evident in his voice.

Michael nodded again.

“Why?”

Michael stared at him before laughing lightly. “Are you serious?”

Alex blinked. “I didn’t think you’d-”

“What? Leave her?” Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the arm as he looked at Alex. “I meant what I said Alex. Being with Maria was easy and it was good but that’s all. And I just- I’ve had great. I want great. And I know that I’ll never find it anywhere else. With anyone else.” He leaned forward. “I want you, Alex.”

if you ever wanna be in love (i'll come around) by fraudulentzodiacs

Alex is through walking away, now he's going to prove it to Michael.

Like you wanted it forever. by caitlesshea

In the months since Maria and Michael have started dating, Alex has steered clear of both of them. So what does he do when Maria calls in a panic and can't find Michael? Help of course. He's family.

Or

A Secret Marriage AU nobody asked for.

But I Still Care by Sismyn

Alex tells Rosa the story of Malex. She doesn't like the current ending.

How Do We Fix What's Broken by Sweetgirl2019

Picks up where the finale ended. The aftermath of everything that happened. Lots of angst and a violent exchange in the first chapter.

words echo out yesterday by estel_willow

He keeps telling himself ten more minutes. He’ll wait another ten minutes and then he’ll leave, go back to the cabin and think very carefully about his life choices. He never quite knows what to do with himself when he’s waiting, sitting and hoping for the sounds of Michael’s truck to rumble into view. He’s not good at waiting when there’s no military payoff but here he is, regardless, sitting and waiting for someone who may never come. He checks the time again.

Ten more minutes, he thinks. Ten more minutes.

sometimes letting go is part of loving, (but I never want to) by itsmylifekay

In the wake of Michael and Maria and alien conspiracies, Alex is just trying to keep moving forward, to do what he can to fix the mess his life has become. That generally means avoiding Michael. Unfortunately, the universe has other plans.

Or, five time Michael holds on and one time he doesn't.(it ends well, I promise)

Hearts will hold by InsidiousIntent

He never falls out of love, but he thinks he definitely falls in love, actually.

Note: This one fucking hurts and includes Michael cheating on Alex with Maria, if that’s not your thing.

Cosmic Agony by BeStillMySlashyHeart

The problem with not letting many people in is that when you need someone, it's a short list.

Michael and Alex are both dealing with a lot and in their lowest moments they can only turn to each other. Somehow, this develops to the point where they can no longer go to sleep without the other.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering Michael's dating Maria.

Just You & Me by Sweetgirl2019

After Michael chooses Maria in the finale, Alex decides he needs to make a change. When Michael realizes his mistake, will it be too late?

Now Who’s the Coward? by a1_kitkat

Kyle is angry at how Michael & Maria treated Alex so when he sees the couple together, he gives them a piece of his mind

every traveler, please come home by AndreaLyn

Michael gets sent back in time to relive the best and worst day of his life. Then he does it over and over until he realizes that he has a chance to fix it.

he made me feel (like i belonged) by estel_willow

He heard the sound of giggling from inside and then Michael's voice, soft and low. He knew he should move away but some masochistic part of him had him standing where he was as he heard Maria say Michael's name in a way that definitely wasn't platonic and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He felt nauseated.

Blood was pounding in his ears and Alex just stood there dumbly for a moment before he shrugged off his backpack and put it on the floor, just underneath the steps where it was obscured but Michael would know it was there as soon as he moved the trailer to go into his bunker.

He breathed out again, past the cloying tightness in his chest. Hadn't they just talked about starting over? Doing it the right way? Hadn't Maria promised him it would never happen again, that it had meant nothing? The way she moaned his name didn't sound like the moan of a dirty, no good, Texas rounder.

This Is Gospel by BillieJoeArmstrong

A weird glowing rock forces Alex to tell the truth.

I just want you to know who I am by littlecountrymouse

It takes them the whole weekend with a break in the middle to get through as much of Michael’s heritage as possible, but it’s eleven PM on Sunday night, and that little voice in Michael’s head reminds him that Alex still hasn’t asked about the situation with Maria.

Not even twenty seconds later, Alex pipes up, his voice carefully neutral, and Michael wonders if the smart little shit is more telepathic than Isobel, or if he just jinxed himself.

“So, why Maria?”

trying to find my peace of mind by alexmanes

Alex doesn't understand why his husband has been so distant lately, but he's determined to get to the bottom of their marital problems. One way or another, he's going to get the answers he so desperately wants.

[finnpeach]

Rainy Day

Synopsis: This is a college AU with Lance and Keith wherein instead of Keith leaving for 2 years with his mom, he took 1 year off from school to go backpacking/traveling with her around the world. He and Lance were dating before then, though when he left they didn’t have a great goodbye and there’s a lot of things left unsaid. Now Keith’s been back for a month and they still don’t know how to really act towards one another, until Keith comes down with a cold.

Featuring fet!Lance of course

Ship: Klance

Word count: 3.3k

This also shifts in and out of Keith’s and Lance’s perspective so sorry about that :/

***

When Keith’s body aches in protest when he wakes up on a dreary, pouring Wednesday morning, he blames it on his crappy mattress. When a deep, throbbing pressure reverberates through his sinuses when his toast pops out of the toaster, he decides he must’ve not slept well that night. When the sneezing starts, though, he realizes it may be more than just a bad night’s rest. He hasn’t gotten a cold in almost a year. He decides to check his temperature just to make sure; though if the way his throat feels scratchy and raw is any indication, it can’t be good. He enters his bathroom and squints at the light as the pressure in his temple increases. To make matters worse, the tile is ice-cold beneath his feet and sends a shiver up his spine that chills him to the bone.

Keith raises his arms behind his head and ties his hair back, watching his reflection in the mirror. He eyes the pink, feverish flush on his cheeks with a sigh and opens the medicine cabinet for the thermometer. Maybe it’s just a small fever. A headcold, right? He tries not to think about it as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for the thermometer to beep beneath his tongue. He hates this feeling. The thermometer is cold beneath his hot, dehydrated tongue. He can’t breathe through his nose and has to keep his mouth closed for an accurate reading, the tub is too hard beneath his thighs, and he hates how itchy his nose is. Lance used to rub his back when he took his temperature because he knew how much Keith hated it. 101.3 Is that high? It can’t be too bad. He only has one class today, and it’s with Lance. They haven’t spoken much since Keith returned from his trip. Only some hugs here, a cheek kiss that Lance chanced a week ago. They don’t know where their relationship stands anymore. Keith can’t completely blame him, though. To have your boyfriend leave for an entire year with barely any notice beforehand and no communication, and then to just come home the next fall semester as if nothing happened? How can things return to normal after that? Keith hates thinking about how upset Lance had looked when he told him he’d be leaving the next day. How Lance had tried to hide his disappointment and be supportive, but Keith could tell there were melancholic thunderstorms brewing in Lance’s mind. He pulls on his jeans and gets his backpack ready, muffling harsh coughs into his shoulder as he ties his shoes. His mom had said time would heal them both, but he’s been home for over a month and now he’s not so sure. His apartment is only a five minute walk to campus, though he instantly regrets his decision when the rain chills him to the bone and the harsh wind slices his cheeks. You trekked through the Himalayas, camped in Siberia, and almost died in the Sahara. You can’t handle a rainy walk to campus? He thinks to himself, gritting his teeth. When he finally makes it to class, Lance is already there with a seat saved for Keith. He walks up silently and plops down in the seat, suddenly aware of how tired he feels.

Keith doesn’t see that Lance greets him with a smile that quickly turns to a frown at the sight of a damp, pale Keith. Lance also notices that Keith’s hair is pulled back, too. He only ever does that if he’s really exhausted.

“Hey,” Lance pulls his earbuds out and pauses the music on his phone. “You look soaked.”

“Really? I thought I was dry, acgtually.” Keith replies stuffily, leaning forward on the table in front of him and resting his head in his arms. He doesn’t mean to be so snappy, but he’s not in the mood for Lance to annoy him today.

Lance rolls his eyes and decides to just leave Keith alone. Whatever, maybe Keith doesn’t want their relationship to be what it used to be and just wants to be a pill until the end of time. Why should he care.

He’s about to put his headphones back in, but stops when he hears a shuddering, hitchy breath come from Keith. Lance almost mistakes it for sobs before —

“Hh’ihZzsh’ue! H’NGKSHh!” Keith doesn’t look up and instead just sniffles back his congestion, letting his tired eyes slip shut. He wishes he hadn’t come to class. He’s just going to sneeze during the whole lecture, and everyone’s going to look at him, and Lance probably hates him, and he’s so cold, and god fucking damn it he wishes he’d stayed in bed.

What makes his mind finally stop racing is Lance poking his shoulder. He straightens up, expecting Lance to tell him to go blow his nose or cover his mouth next time, but instead he’s slipping out of his own jacket.

“Gimme your hoodie.” Lance demands, reaching out his hand expectantly.

“What? No. It’s soaked, why do you want it?”

“Just gimme it, Keith.” Lance tugs at the hood of Keith’s hoodie, clearly not taking no for an answer.

Sighing but deciding it’s easier not to question why Lance is so weird, Keith pulls it over his head and hands it over before Lance puts his own jacket around Keith’s shoulders. It’s warm, a lot warmer than his hoodie.

Lance notices the surprise on Keith’s flushed face and smiles, doing his best to control any smugness. “You think I was just gonna let you sit there and shiver all class? I can see right through you, mullet.” He pushes his hand up under Keith’s bangs, feeling for a fever. “You’re sick.”

Keith tries not to sink too much into Lance’s hand, which feels so warm and comforting against his cold skin. His entire body seems to scream in delight at the affectionate touch, but he pulls away anyway and stares at Lance’s notebook, eyeing the old K+L circled by a heart that Lance had drawn on the cover last year. Suddenly, desperation wells up inside him.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He replies softly, refusing to meet Lance’s gaze. Normally, he’d deny any illness until he was dead, but the fever is starting to make him a little delirious and Lance’s touch, something he’s craved since he’s returned home, has pushed him over the edge.

Lance can sense a shift in the air as he watches Keith rub at his nose. Suddenly, it all comes back to him, a million memories that had been swept under a mental rug for a year. How itchy Keith’s nose got when he had a cold, how much he hated taking his temperature, how he tied up his hair so messily and Lance always had to fix it for him to keep it off his sweaty face. How Keith hardly ever slept well and even worse when he was sick, which explains the dark circles underlining Keith’s waterline.

Whatever awkward grievance they’d had towards each other dissipates in that moment. Lance wants to take care of his boy, right now.

“Let me take you home after class. You don’t look like you can last much longer.” Lance reaches out and rubs Keith’s back, hoping he isn’t overstepping any more unspoken boundaries than he already has.

But Keith hardly seems to notice his touch as he turns to cough into his elbow. Deep, harsh coughs that seem to wrack his whole frame. “M’fine. Besides, you hhhave..”

Keith’s eyes slowly slip shut as his hand raises to cover his mouth, jaw hanging slack, his breath drawing into a series of needy, short breaths. Finally, he searches for the bright lights from the ceiling to push him over the edge, and—

“H’iISShh!.. Hh’iehSSh’UE! Hh..— Heh’EhZSsh!” He covers his mouth with his palm as each sneeze pitches him forward, leaving him with little relief in his sinuses and an even sharper headache.

Lance is currently trying to ignore the heat pooling in his abdomen. Fuck, Keith’s sneezes are so hard to ignore. He’d almost forgotten how much they riled him up.

“Bless you. Those sounded…” Sick? Harsh? Exhausting? He’s not sure what a normal response is or where he was going with that and instead rifles through his bag for an opened packet of tissues inside. “Here. Sorry you aren’t feeling great.”

Keith sniffles and takes the tissues, folding one around his nose before blowing. When he’s finished, his nose is an even brighter pink that makes Lance’s insides squirm. “Thangks… I just wanna go hombe.”

He sounds so congested and sad and tired that Lance almost leaps up from his seat and throws Keith over his shoulder, but class is starting. He gets one last look at Keith before the professor calls for their attention.

Thank god it was only a 50 minute class. Lance isn’t completely sure Keith would’ve lasted much longer in the stuffy lecture hall, where he had to pinch his nose for every sneeze and leave a couple times to blow his nose out in the hallway. A few times he nearly fell asleep and started snoring, to which Lance had to shake him awake. He made sure to make detailed notes for Keith to copy down later.

Finally, class is dismissed, and Lance tosses everything in his bag with little care before poking a dozing Keith again.

“Hey, Keith, c’mon.” He says, slinging Keith’s backpack over his shoulder too. The poor guy looks worse than when he came in. His hair is even more disheveled, his flush deeper, and his voice is starting to fail on him a little bit, too. He may as well be a spokesperson for a NyQuil commercial.

Keith stands from his seat, though the movement is apparently too fast and too soon because as soon as he straightens up, he begins to wobble and Lance has to catch him before he falls.

“Woah, hey, I didn’t think this grizzled, cooler Keith would be so unstable after a year long backpacking trip.” Lance helps him balance again though pulls away reluctantly. Not only because he’s worried about Keith stumbling again, but because he rarely gets to touch Keith anymore. “Are you okay?

The sickly boy huffs and shakes his head, which contradicts what he’s about to say. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Lance isn’t so sure, but doesn’t push him anymore and instead keeps an eye out for the mullet. The rain has subsided for a moment as they walk to Lance’s car but he can see Keith trying not to shiver when the wind hits. What was Keith going to do without Lance? Just walk home and get soaked again?

“Do I need to stop at a CVS? Or do you have stuff at home?” Lance asks as he starts the car, sparing a glance at Keith. He can’t help but stare when he sees the same, unfocused, sneezy expression from earlier.

This time, it only lasts a second. “H’mptSShh!” He presses the first one against his wrist (very ineffective, Lance thinks). Another sharp inhale, more desperate and demanding, and — “Hh’iEhSSh! Hih’IhTSsh!!” Keith sniffles and sighs, his hand lowering to his lap, his gaze becoming a bit more focused as the ticklish feeling seems to leave him. His shoulders relax beneath Lance’s jacket. Unfortunately, the peace lasts for only a few seconds before he’s reeling forward again, his hand flying to his face. He curses, hating his sinuses for the never ending torment, his lips parting again. Short, erratic breaths escape his chest before — “Heh’EhZzSH’ih!! Sndf.. fuck, ow.” The last one is much louder than the others and seems to exhaust Keith completely. He rubs his nose again and sniffles. “I think I have some Tylenol at home.”

When Lance doesn’t respond (mostly because he’s trying to process the unexpectedly hot scene he just witnessed), Keith slumps against the seat and looks over at him, as if he’s expecting something. It only takes an instant for Lance to remember how he used to always kiss Keith’s forehead after a fit, or tease him, or give him a warm hug because they always left him chilled. That’s what he’s looking for, like Pavlov’s dogs expecting food after a bell.

It takes everything in Lance’s power not to throw Keith in the backseat and have his way with him. Trying to ignore how, um, interested he is, Lance reaches across the console and takes hold of Keith’s hand as he pulls out of the parking spot, hoping that it will suffice for what Keith’s searching for in Lance. The small touch is enough to soften Keith’s features and make everything seem all right, even for a short moment.

Keith waits in the car while Lance runs into CVS, staring at the raindrops running down his window. They haven’t been this close in ages. To see that same sparkling affection in Lance’s eyes whenever he looks at Keith sends warm waves of endearment through his veins, heating him up from the inside. He never realized how much he missed it when he was away with his mom.

Lance returns with a much bigger bag than Keith expected, filled to the brim with tissues, cold medicine, cough drops, cans of soup… Keith begins wondering how he’s going to pay him back for it when he only has about $10 in his wallet.

“Lance, you didn’t have to get all that.” He protests as Lance buckles himself in.

“Don’t be dumb, of course I did. You’re my boyfr--” Lance stops himself and quickly stares down at the steering wheel. Right, they aren’t really boyfriends anymore. “I mean... You’re sick. You’d do the same for me, or at least I hope so.” He starts reversing the car.

Keith stiffens at nearly being called Lance’s boyfriend. Fuck, he hasn’t been called that in so long, and it pulls his heart down to his stomach. Deciding to let it roll off his shoulders for the sake of not making things more awkward, he addresses Lance’s latest idea with a scoff and a smirk. “As if. You’re so clingy when you’re sick, I could never even leave the couch without you whining, let alone drive to the store.”

“Hey. You’re one to talk. If I ever got up for a midnight snack, I’d turn around and see you right behind me when I was in the fridge!”

“Had to make sure you weren’t eating all my food.”

“Or you just missed me.” Lance looks over at Keith with a big grin, expecting him to retort or deny it, but Keith is smiling softly at his lap. He’s remembering how Lance would shuffle into the kitchen as late as 3 am to search through the fridge, how Keith would wake up without him in bed and would come up behind him and hug him and sleepily ask him to come back to bed. Then Lance would abandon his food mission and lead Keith back to his room and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep again. He always misses Lance, even when he’s nearby.

They finish the drive in silence. Lance carries everything up to Keith’s apartment, refusing to let Keith carry anything once again while Keith follows him. It’s been so long since Lance has set foot in Keith’s apartment, but for some reason, there’s nothing awkward about it. He still remembers where Keith puts his cups, his forks, his spare dish soap. Nothing is out of place from where he last saw it.

“Okay. You go shower, warm up, get into some dry clothes. I’m gonna get all this stuff ready for when you’re done.” Lance says. Keith, thankfully, doesn’t argue and trudges off to the bathroom. He waits until he hears the water turn on to start unboxing the contents of the bag. Medicine, check, cough drops, check. He turns the kettle on so Keith can have some tea to soothe his throat after his shower.

Keith, unlike Lance, is able to shower in five minutes flat, and reenters the room right as Lance is steeping the tea. He’s dressed in old sweatpants, a baggy shirt that used to be Lance’s, and is still wearing his jacket. Though he still looks just as sickly as earlier, he at least looks a little warmer. But fuck, if he doesn’t look so cute right now. The way Keith’s wet hair flops in his face and how he’s wearing Lance’s clothes just makes him fall in love all over again.

“Better?” Lance asks as Keith takes a seat on the couch. He brings over the tea, tissues, and medicine before his eyes start scanning for a blanket.

“Mhm.” Keith replies sleepily, his head sinking into the couch cushion. “You’re missing class for me, aren’t you?

Lance bites his bottom lip as he grabs a blanket off the back of the couch and tucks it around Keith. “Just one. But it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He pulls the blanket up to Keith’s collarbone and the back of his hand grazes underneath Keith’s chin. Goosebumps race up his arm.

Keith doesn’t seem to notice and grumbles something about how Lance is a bad student before closing his eyes, feeling sleep start to tug at him like a slow wave.

Lance notices immediately and touches his face again, cupping the side of his jaw. The touch seems to wake him up enough for him to open his pretty eyes up at Lance. God, how he missed this.

“Uh uh, Keithy-boy, don’t sleep yet. Medicine first.” He sits down beside Keith and passes him the dose of Dayquil, watching it go down and taking the empty cap from Keith afterwards.

He’s not sure where to go from here. Maybe he could just turn on the TV and watch something until Keith falls asleep, or make him some lunch with the soup he bought and just keep him company. Just as he’s about to reach for the remote, Keith releases a shaky breath as his eyes slowly start to close, and then…

“HhiehTSsh! Heh’Zzsh’ih! Hehh.. ihh-h… H’iZSsh! H’EhTSHh’iew!” He covers the lower half of his face with the blanket, hitchy breaths sporadically slipping past his lips. There’s a short pause, a moment where he can recollect himself, before he’s lurching forward into the blanket again with two sneezes that tumble breathlessly over each other. “Hh’iehShh!’idtshue!” Tears brim at the corners of his eyes as the pressure in his sinuses refuses to subside.

“Wow, bless y--”

“Hh’ihZzsh’ue! Hihh.. H’ihTSHh!!” Keith groans, expecting there to be more, but finally rubs at his nose when the tickle is gone. One hand flies up to cover his nose and mouth to hide the mess on his upper lip. “Uhmb, Landce, can you pass mbe the…?” He looks at the tissue box and sniffles again, though it doesn’t sound it like does any good.

Lance tries to ignore the heat pooling down south and snags a handful of tissues before passing them to Keith, hoping he isn’t blushing too hard. That had been… way too hot.

“Bless you. Are you okay?” That was a normal thing to say, right?

Keith nods behind the tissues and blows his nose, falling back into the couch again with an exasperated sigh. He shivers and Lance guesses that the fit had left him chilled, as they always do. This time, though, he doesn’t wait for an expectant look from Keith and scoots closer to wrap his arms around the blanketed boy, pulling him to his chest. Keith doesn’t protest either and simply rests his head against Lance’s collarbone, too exhausted to question it and too eager for this kind of affection to reject it.

“I missed you.” Lance breathes into his hair, squeezing him tighter. The way Keith fits into his arms feels so natural, like muscle memory.

“Mmm…” Keith hums, and although Lance can’t see it, he’s smiling. “Thanks for taking care of me, Lance.”

At this, Lance smiles and kisses his temple, nuzzling his wet hair. Outside, the rain resumes again, cold and unrelenting, but in here it’s warm and dry and he has Keith in his arms, which is all he needs.

[applegelstore]

Orchestra AU thoughts in three charming parts

A few people voiced their interest, so I figured I could explain what’s actually behind the orchestra AU idea, since this one isn’t exactly a crossover with some other franchise, and therefore you can’t guess any context from what you know about the other part of the crossover :,D Feel free to skip, it’s just text, but if you wanna talk orchestra AU with me, please go ahead! Warning, way too long post ahead (why did I spend an entire afternoon on this?):

PART 1 (basics)

The AU as such is the one where nothing hurts and everything is musical jokes (or musical sex jokes in Zaveid’s case) and shameless geeking. And it’s actually supposed to be a cross-Tales thing. With Rollo probably following Ludger wherever he goes like a dog, and nobody ever minds. And Phi probably following Velvet around, and nobody minds that, either.

So far I’ve deduced the ensemble from official material as follows:

Jr. Conductor: Cress

Jr. Jr. Conductor: Phi (in training, probably. THEN AGAIN CRESS SHOULD STILL BE IN TRAINING, TOO, HE’S 17, LIKE 90% OF ALL JRPG PROTAGONISTS EVER)

Solo Soprano: Tear, Lailah (not official, but try to fight me on these ladies)

Solo Bass: Zaveid (come on, he’s bass)

Solo Piano: Mikleo (this isn’t official either, but you can try to pry the “Mikleo plays piano” headcanon from my cold, dead hands)

Violin: Mint, Ludger, Sorey


Viola: Alisha (I guess it’s supposed to be another violin, BUT IT LOOKS SO BIG)

Cello: Velvet

Double bass: Richard

Flute: Milla, Mikleo

Clarinet: Rose (and probably abusing it to stab people)

Trumpet: Jude, Elize, Dezel

Trombone: Eleanor

Percussion: Rokurou, Luke, Edna

As you can see, we don’t have a FULL orchestra yet, but we also have a fuckton of games left.

PART 2
 (what most of you are here for. The Sormik spinoff)

…Everything was plot- and painless, until my unhelpful brain decided that we need some Sormik spinoff, some sort of plot, and also some fantasy/dark fairytale shit because I always fall for that. Also there’s the thing that we never learn in the game who the heck Mikleo’s father is, so there was room to fill with AU material. So, some of you may know that I’m a huuuuuge Seventh Wonder fan. If you didn’t, now you know. Seventh Wonder are super duper fucking amazing, and Tommy Karevik is a god. …Ah pretty ripped hipster teddybear god. Okay, back to topic. So there’s this song, King of Whitewater, which is about a water spirit luring in children (…and their relatives) with beautiful violin melodies. From this general theme, my unhelpful brain deduced the following, dark fairytale-ish concept:

When she’s still young and naive, Muse meets the very lonely water spirit. Eventually, she feels pity for him and falls in love with him. But sooner or later she misses a normal human’s life in a normal human town, and when he doesn’t let her get away and turns violent, she runs away, highly pregnant. She refuses to tell anyone who’s the father; the only one he trusts is Michael, who agrees to help her raise the child, too. They hope everything will be well. Yeah, you all know who that child is. Anyway, the water spirit is pretty heartbroken, and that makes him even more violent, and also feel betrayed for that yet unborn child. And from that day on, starts luring in little children who never see the light of day again.

Muse doesn’t know about this. And leads a normal life, believing she escaped.

All is fine until someday during a scouting trip in the woods between Camlann and Elysia, little Sorey and Mikleo get lost in the woods and accidentally find a mysterious (TM) lake. It’s surrounded by mist so thick they can hardly see anything, but all the time, soothing, beautiful violin music plays. Because that’s how the spirit lures in children. Because he wants his child back.

To which little Sorey of course violently disagrees, but it’s not like two little children had much of a chance to escape, so Mikleo talks the spirit into a compromise: stealing children isn’t okay, no matter the circumstances. At least wait til I’m of age. And please stop killing other children in the meantime. The spirit agrees and lets them go. Sorey is of course a crying mess. Somehow through his tears and apologies he manages to promise Mikleo that the spirit won’t get him. And Mikleo trusts him. Problem is that the spirit isn’t exactly stupid either, so he enchants the children so they forget everything that happened instead of like, running for help. Oh, except the song (which is the violin solo in King of Whitewater btw). They never forget the song. They just forget how and where they learned it, and ever since that scout trip it’s their personal thing that they often play for fun, believing it to be some kind of nursery rhyme. And nobody ever suspects a thing.

Everything is perfect. Everything is beautiful. They grow up to be smart kids and with wonderful grades in school. They become marvelous musicians. They meet wonderful friends in high school. Of course they eventually start dating.

But then Mikleo’s 18th birthday draws near and for a couple of weeks, things get weird. He gets nightmares in which he drowns or gets lost in the mist, nightmares in which Sorey dies or simply gets missing, nightmares that he can’t make sense of. He hears the song all the time in his head, failing to remember where he’d learned it. The morning after his 18th birthday party, he wakes up in Sorey’s arms and everything ought to be great and perfect, but somehow it isn’t. He asks Sorey whether he remembers the song they learned as kids. Or how they learned it. What’s it called, even. He doesn’t know, but he remembers the song and plays it for Mikleo. And suddenly, bit by bit, Mikleo remembers. So does Sorey, but much slower.

Sorey leaves for college and Muse and Michael are already gone for work, but Mikleo stays in bed because he’s tired. Sorey has a bad feeling about this (TM) but leaves him be. Mistake. When he gets back home, Mikleo is nowhere to be found.

AND HERE’S THE PROBLEM. I’m stuck here. I have not the slightest idea how to fix this and stop Mikleo from getting lost in a lake in the woods for the rest of his life. Sure, okay, Muse and Sorey violently disagree, BUT WHAT ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT IT. Violent violin battles are some of the less ridiculous “solutions” that have come to my mind so far.

If anybody knows how to give this thing a happy ending that doesn’t involve any deus ex machina moves from any end, I’d be grateful.

The worst thing about this is that experience tells me that I’d have zero trouble to actually leave Mikleo lost in the forest for the rest of his life if this was one of my original stories. Most of them are made of pain and suffering, seasoned with cute animals and super-natural shit for balance.

PART 3 (random Sormik related tidbits)

-Camlann is a tiny, mountaineous town which they love very dearly -they have to travel quite a bit each morning for high school and college (the former where they meet the rest of the squad) and later on to study some music or history related, they still visit their families often because they like it so much -I kinda want Selene to retain her maiden’s name and make it Shepherd for the sole purpose that Zaveid can then continue calling Sorey Sheps -also I came up with this bit about their living situation -shortly before Sorey and Mikleo start dating, they borrow the keys to a concert rehearsal room at some point, so they can practice their grand piano/violin duet a bit (Mikleo only has a piano at home, not a grand piano). It’s gonna be part of a huge concert thing, so it’s only one part of the show with an entire orchestra and occasionally other solos or duets -a hurricane cuts off all public transport for the evening and the entire night, and it’s also goddamn dangerous not to have a roof over your head for the time being -so they’re trapped in the rehearsal room until morning when the storm has subsided and public transport is also working again -once they’re too tired to actually practice once the evening gets late (like. very late. more like middle of the night/morning), they abide their time watching the storm through the rehearsal room’s hugeass windows -at some point, sleepy hormone rushes favor the confession and kissing bit -they have fond memories of thunderstorms afterwards -when she eventually hears about the thing, Rose is hollering with laughter because she probably had bets going that it would take them getting locked up in a room to finally confess and make out after years of mutual oblivious pining. She wasn’t entirely wrong, and probably made lots of bucks with her bet -anyway, when they finally perform their duet weeks later, the entire audience agrees that their duet was one of the evening’s highlights, and Sorey probably spends all evening smiling like an idiot and happily holding Mikleo’s hand -considering that the whole thing could be shamelessly crossover-y, I might get flutist!Milla giving flutist!Mikleo kindly big sister advise feelings (no, not relationship advise, because she’s the worst at that. Hey, not everything has to be Sormik-related) -not sure whether she’s still a vessel for Maxwell, but if lake spirits are a thing, why shouldn’t Maxwell be a thing -fun fact: I hate suits.

[salamadersaurus-rex]

Mammoths and Magnets

Like Nowhere on Earth part II

A Prehistoric Park AU feat. mammoths, magnets and VasLena. Also on AO3.

Thanks to @sobekcrocodile for all their help.

//

Kara had been recruited absurdly quickly. Director J’onzz moved fast because an hour after Kara read a confidential email meant for Alex she found him in her waiting room, kept company by a sheepish Alex and Gertrude the arthritic Alsatian.

Alex had explained, J’onn had just sat there with a briefcase in his lap Kara would soon find out was filled with legal papers. And Kara trusted Alex, so she signed the papers between appointments, promised not to tell and tried really hard not to think about time travel and dinosaurs as she treated a rabbit’s sprained paw. She barely gave it a chance to set in until long after J’onn left, after she locked up her little clinic behind her and found Alex waiting for her, leaning on her motorcycle.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m not allowed, remember? And I didn’t read the fine print so you’re going to have to tell me who I owe a kidney to when you come to collect.”

“Kara…”

“You know your secret organisation isn’t very good at keeping secrets.” Kara sets of down the street, quick enough that Alex has to rush to catch up.

“I really wanted to tell you.”

Kara sighs, slowing down slightly so Alex doesn’t have to jog.

“I hate that you have longer legs than me,” Alex grumbles. “But seriously, Kara. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, I really am. It’s just… I love this job, we’re doing such good work I can’t lose that.”

“At least I know now, I guess.”

Alex brightens. “More than that, actually. I talked to J’onn - Director J’onzz - he’s agreed to let you come interview!”

“For what?” Kara asks, stopping so forcefully she almost knocks over an old woman. “Oh, I’m so sorry ma’am.” She lowers her voice. “For what, Alex? I’m a vet not a palaeontologist.”

“No, but we need a vet. I mean, another one. You’d be working with Dr Olsen, you’d really like him.” Alex bats her eyelashes dramatically, like she used to do when they were kids and she wanted to rope Kara into doing something ‘for science.’

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

“What can I say, Kara? We could do so much good at the park.”

“No, buy me dinner first, then we talk.” Kara points to her favourite Chinese across the street. “After the day I’ve had I need a hundred potstickers and I need them now. Your super-secret time travel facility pays you enough for that, right?”

Alex rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling all the same. “Yeah, it does. So you’ll consider it?”

Kara checks both ways before dragging Alex across the road. “You’re gonna have to sell it hard, but yes for now I’ll maybe, maybe consider it.”

And it’d taken Alex a lot of food, begging, promising they were going to save the world together and that Kara’s clinic would be just fine with Eve but now here she was, fresh from her first trip back in time and already gearing up for another.

“I don’t really want to run into myself and explode the matrix or whatever,” Alex is saying to Lena.

They’re standing in the lab, still mucky and sweaty from herding a group of stubborn Saltasaurus to the far paddocks.

“That’s an easy fix Dr Danvers. All we have to do is send you back to five minutes before you left.”

“You can do that?” Kara asks, the thought of Alex falling into a random volcano still fresh in her mind.

Lena just tilts her head. “We can do anything Dr Danvers.”

“Well not anything,” Winn starts, but Lena ignores him.

“Are the both of you going?”

Kara nods excitedly, and Alex’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“We have to bring Harriet’s herd back,” Kara explains. “Mammoths are intensely social creatures, without her herd she’d get sick and lonely and-“ Kara’s lower lip trembles, and Alex wraps her arm round her shoulders.

“We’ll bring Harriet’s family back to her, Kara.”

Lena’s watching them, almost curiously, but then the tablet in her hands beeps insistently and draws her gaze away.

“Final checks have been completed. Dr Danvers… and Dr Danvers, is your team ready?”

Alex tugs her phone out her pocket, hits speed dial. Lucy’s phone rings just as she strides into the lab. She nods at Alex.

“We’re here.”

Vasquez and Maggie follow her in, thick parkas in their arms. Alex takes one and wraps it round Kara snugly. Kara beams, face haloed by the fluff lining the hood. There’s a pair of mittens hanging from the sleeves and they dance merrily when Kara waves at James who’s just walked in. The lab doors whoosh closed behind him.

“Ready?” James asks.

Kara nods, her face suddenly solemn. “I have to bring Harriet’s family home.”

James rests his hand on her shoulder, tries to squeeze it through the bulky parka. “You’ve got this Kara.”

Alex is watching Lucy and Maggie struggling to help each other into the coats, arguing over which zipper zips up where.

“A little help, Danvers?” Lucy complains, sticking her hand somewhere inside Maggie’s jacket.

Maggie jumps, swallows, and Alex is so very glad they’re heading to the ice age because there’s only so much of her blush she can control. She quickly helps the two of them out, zipping Lucy’s parka up a little too forcefully against her chin when she winks lewdly.

Lucy boops Maggie’s nose when they’re all bundled up. “You look adorable.”

“Say it at my funeral when I get trampled by three mammoths.”

“You’ll be fine Sawyer,” Vasquez says. “Just don’t spook ‘em.”

They quietly grunt, trying to fit the strap of their tranq gun over their parka. Lena hands Winn her tablet and hurries over to help, gently setting the strap in their shoulder and untwisting it.

“Thanks Doc,” Vasquez says, treating Lena to a crooked smile before they wander off.

Lena twists her fingers together and pretends not to watch Vasquez leave to join the group by the door. She clears her throat, snatches her tablet from Winn.

“Have you run all the checks?”

“Yes, I- I just told you.”

“I’m just double checking,” Lena snaps defensively. She takes a set of portal spikes from the metal case they’re stored in, clicks them together with a magnetic clip. She hands them to Alex. “Bring that clip back, it’s a prototype.”

Winn’s watch starts beeping and he holds his wrist up so Lena can see the timer. Lucy ushers Maggie and Kara out the door to the holding paddock where the rest of their equipment is.

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Alex says. “The herd wasn’t far away when Harriet started chasing us.”

“Try not to bring anything else back.”

Alex looks offended. “Me? Do something unauthorised?”

Vasquez snorts. “Something tells me you could go grocery shopping and come back with a Triceratops.”

Lena pretends to cough, trying to hold back a giggle. Vasquez winks at her. “See you in a bit Luthor, hopefully with a bunch more Harriets.”

They herd Alex towards the lab door. She’s grumbling under her breath, something about paperwork and not wanting to do any damn more of it. Lena smiles and steps up behind the control podium, counting down from ten and flicking switches and buttons in the order she knows by heart. With a roar the portal swirls open, and Lena’s heart makes that proud little flutter it does every time it comes to life.

“Never gets old,” Winn grins.

Lena makes some quip about time travel and gets back to work. A moment later the team appears, pushing the holding paddock doors wide open. Kara’s bouncing up and down excitedly, Lucy and Maggie roaring with laughter and it’s definitely not helping the foul look on Alex’s face. Vasquez just shakes their head and shoulders a backpack, striding purposefully into the time portal.

//

It’s cold. Really, really cold. Not that Lucy’s going to be the first one to state that. She made that mistake the last time they travelled to the ice age and neither Alex nor Maggie have let her live it down since.

“What do you think of the weather Luce?” Alex asks cheekily, her foggy breath streaming out in front of her like smoke from a steam train.

“It’s cooollldd,” Kara complains, and Lucy laughs because her nose is already turning red.

“It’s the ice age!” she, Maggie and Alex chime, Vasquez chuckling in the background.

Kara pouts, kicks at a ridge of snow. Maggie takes pity on her and wraps an arm round her shoulders. “It’s okay, little Danvers. Look.”

She points with her free hand. Wide, white plains stretch out around them for miles, covered in a deep layer of snow that rolls away in windswept ridges towards the grey horizon. Far, far in the distance Kara can see a small, dark huddle of creatures.

Kara perks up immediately. “Mammoths!”

Alex frowns. “What are they doing all the way over there?”

“Guys,” Vasquez says, distracted by snow at their feet. “Looks like, well, like a whole herd of mammoths has trampled through.”

“Yeah Vas, they’re over there.” Kara points.

“No, something spooked them.”

“It wasn’t you guys what, five minutes ago did Lena say?”

“I think Lena’s calculations are a bit off.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Lucy warns.

“Y’know Major, I really like time travel. I wanna keep doing it with all my limbs intact.” Vasquez points at something with the toe of their boot. “But Luthor’s maths is the least of our worries.”

They all crowd round Vasquez. The human boot print in the snow stands out crisply amidst the mess of mammoth prints.

“Don’t suppose that’s one of ours,” Maggie sighs.

“Alex?” Kara asks nervously. “What does this mean?”

“Prehistoric hunters,” Alex says. “They could have been after this herd for hours. We need to do something before they wear them out.”

“How’d you wear out a mammoth?” Lucy asks.

“Humans are persistence hunters, they literally just follow their prey until it’s exhausted. They’ve probably set up traps ahead as well.”

Kara’s face is set in a deep frown. She keeps up easily with Alex as they start moving across the plain towards the mammoth herd. Lucy and Vasquez keep to either side, eyes roving constantly over the snow searching for danger. Maggie checks behind them before moving to Kara’s side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“We won’t just lose the herd if we don’t make it in time,” Kara says, quietly. “We’ll lose Harriet too.”

“Not gonna happen, Kara.” Maggie promises.

She catches Alex’s grateful glance and smiles at her. Alex’s heart trips, her cheeks warming even in the freezing cold. She lets Kara forge on ahead slightly, moving closer to Maggie so she can whisper thank you, and rest a hand at the small of her back.

“Are you attempting physical contact, Danvers?” Maggie whispers back. “Because I can’t feel it through this damn coat.”

“Why are we whispering?” Vasquez stage-whispers exaggeratedly.

“So the mammoths don’t find out how much Danvers and Sawyer are in l-“

“Alex!” Kara’s worried cry carries from up ahead, cutting Lucy off.

Maggie only has time to roll her eyes at Lucy before running after Alex. Vasquez and Lucy swing their tranq guns off their shoulders, catching up in no time to find Alex holding Kara back firmly, Maggie scanning the herd of mammoths with a pair of binoculars.

“They’re gonna hurt them!” Kara shouts, wriggling in Alex’s arms.

“Kara, Kara, calm down!”

“No, Alex, they have spears!”

“And we have tranquiliser guns,” Vasquez says calmly. “Perks of the twenty first century.”

Kara stops struggling long enough for Maggie to hand her the binoculars. “Look, Kara. They’ve stopped.”

Maggie’s right. Kara presses the binoculars hard against her face, watching the ragtag band of hunters crouching down in the snow. She can barely see their faces, their hair long and matted and their beards thick and crusted with ice. They lay their spears down, the weapons dark and dangerous against the snow.

“What are they doing?” Kara asks. She hands Alex the binoculars.

“Probably trying to pick out the weakest member of the herd.”

Kara looks like she’s about to cry and fight someone at the same time. She balls her hands into fists as well as she can whilst wearing thick mittens, the crinkle in her forehead deep. At her side, Vasquez and Lucy are fixing scopes to their tranq guns.

“We’re too far away to get them,” Lucy says.

“And they’ll see us once we get closer.” Vasquez hums. “Never fought a caveman in close combat before.”

“I have,” Lucy grumbles. “In basic, in DC, hell, last time I spoke to my father.”

“What’s the plan you two?” Maggie asks.

“Oh there isn’t one,” Lucy says blithely.

Maggie frowns at her, one arm around Kara and from Kara’s other side, Alex glares too. Lucy sighs dramatically. She takes the binoculars from Alex, gives the hunters a cursory once over.

“We need a distraction. Non-combatants set up the portal, me and Vas’ll cover you.”

“As soon as they see us they’ll come after us,” Alex warns. “They’ll probably think we’re rival hunters.”

“So we do this quickly.”

Alex crouches down and roots in her pack for the portal spikes, tugs them gently apart, the magnetic clip falling into her lap. Kara wordlessly holds out a hand for a spike and Alex doesn’t hesitate giving it to her. Their eyes meet and Kara nods her thanks.

“Remember you’re not bulletproof Kara.”

Maggie laughs. “That’d make this job a lot easier- oh shit.”

The group of hunters is on the move, stalking through the snow, weapons held low at the ready.

“We have to do something, now,” Alex says a tinge of worry in her voice. “If they scatter the herd we’ll never get them back.”

Vasquez helps Alex up, directs everyone into a huddled group. “Okay listen up. We’re going to move towards them until they see us, if Alex is right they’ll leave the mammoths and come for us. We’ll be close enough to the herd that we can set up the portal but it’ll be tight.”

Alex shakes her head. “It’s too easy for them to follow us.”

Vasquez grins, snatches the metal clip that kept the spikes together from her. “I have an idea.”

//

There’s seven mammoths in the herd. One, an old female, lags behind the rest. They’ve slowed considerably to help her keep up, making low, comforting grumbling noises in their bellies. The group of hunters isn’t far from them, the traps a half mile up ahead when they hear a cheery shout carrying easily over the frosty air.

“HEY FLINTSTONES!”

They turn to see Lucy, a broad grin on her face and waving a metal pen at them. It glints in the cold light and the hunters freeze, grip tightening on their weapons. Vasquez is at Lucy’s side and they hold out another metal object, the magnetic clip.

“Wanna see some magic, assholes?” Vasquez asks.

Alex ushers Kara and Maggie out from behind the two soldiers and they hurry towards the herd of mammoths, footsteps crunching loudly through the snow. A couple of the hunters make to go after them but Vasquez yells, and Lucy lets go of the pen.

It clinks happily against the magnetic clip, wobbles for a second before Vasquez snatches it.

“That’s it?” Lucy says, disappointed. “That’s your distraction?”

“Worked didn’t it.”

The hunters are staring at the pen in Vasquez’s hand, mouths open and their eyes shining with horror and fear.

“Let’s go before they learn the word for bullshittery.”

Lucy and Vasquez back up slowly towards the others.  The hunters shuffle round, start following. There’s a loud roar, Alex must’ve tripped the portal and suddenly the hunters are yelling and falling back, scrambling over themselves to get away from the swirling vortex.

“Damn, that’s all it took?”

“What a waste of a beautiful demonstration of magnetism.”

Vasquez and Lucy run towards the portal, the mammoths trumpeting in concern as Maggie, Kara and Alex try to coerce them as gently as one can coerce a mammoth through a time portal. They make it through just as Vasquez and Lucy arrive, ushering the others though the portal and running in after them.

//

Kara cries when Harriet is reunited with her herd. They stampede towards her noisily, ears flapping, trunks waving and joyous trumpeting filling the air. Alex will never admit it but she cries too, and if she catches Lucy and Maggie discreetly wiping at their eyes she won’t say anything. Kara wraps Alex in a massive hug, tears wet against her neck but her smile wide.

“We did it!”

“Yeah we did. Look how happy they all are.”

Maggie comes over, Lucy close at her side. “Glad you joined us, little Danvers?”

Kara sniffles, laughs. “You know I’m taller than Alex right?”

“Yeah, but Alex’s denial of her rogue side is much, much bigger.”

Alex gasps, a look of mock anger on her face. “I’ll have you know Dr Sawyer, that J’onn just texted me saying we have a normal amount of paper work to fill out for once.”

“For once,” Lucy chuckles. “Roll up roll up, watch the inredible Alex Danvers do her job, exclusive one time only! Also starring the amazing Magnetic Vasquez!”

Vasquez laughs, tugging the magnet out their pocket. “I should take this back to Luthor.”

“I’ll come with,” Alex says. “Guys?”

Maggie and Lucy pile into the jeep parked by the gate to the mammoth paddock, wait for Alex to check with Kara she has a ride back.

“I’m going to wait for James, just make sure the herd’s alright.”

“Okay. Love you.” Alex pulls Kara in for a last hug. “You did so good today. Super.”

Kara laughs. “Super, huh?”

“Yeah, Kara Danvers, super vet.”

“It has a nice ring to it,” Kara says. She waits til Alex is almost at the jeep before she calls out, almost tentatively. “Sister night tonight?”

Alex hops into the jeep, gives her a thumbs up. “You know it, super vet.”

//

The tech labs are almost empty when Vasquez wanders in. The sun is setting over the desert, the strip of sky visible through the wide lab windows a stunning palette of oranges and yellows and pinks. The sun’s last rays filter warmly into the lab, but Lena’s sat in a far, shadowy corner, her pale face lit by the stark light of a computer screen.

Vasquez has changed into a t-shirt and dark jeans, and they tuck their hands into their back pockets as they head over to the corner Lena’s working in.

Lena jumps when they set the magnet gently on the table. They smile warmly at her, pulling out a chair from the terminal next to Lena’s and sitting down. They point to the magnet. “That saved our lives today. Well, not really, but it would’ve been funny if it had.”

Lena cocks her head, her eyes bright with interest. “Do tell.”

Vasquez waves a hand. “Did a magic trick for some cavemen, blew their minds. What I wanna know, Doc, is why you’re here so late.”

Lena scoffs. “It’s not that late.”

“Night crew got here two hours ago.”

Lena sighs. “Fine, I’ve been checking through the code to see why I didn’t send you back to the right time.”

“Luthor, you were like ten minutes late, tops.”

Lena rubs at her tired eyes. “That could be the difference between life and death though. What if next time I send you ten minutes after an earthquake, or ten feet to the right and off a cliff… I’d never forgive myself.”

Vasquez gently, briefly pats Lena’s forearm. “Then next time we’ll wear parachutes, just in case. You can’t know exactly what’s going to be on the other side, and no one’s gonna blame you for it if something does go wrong. Your job is to get us there, and Luthor, if you keep giving me toys like that magnet, I’ll make sure I come back.”

Vasquez grins crookedly, their eyes bright in the light of Lena’s monitor screen. Lena can’t really explain why her heart jumps, but she knows why her shoulders suddenly feel lighter. “It’s just a magnet. But thank you, Agent Vasquez.”

“A magnet specially designed so it doesn’t interfere with the delicate electronics of the time portal spikes.” Vasquez smiles at her, their expression soft as they watch Lena fiddle with the magnet, turning it over and over in her fingers. “I know my science. And just Vasquez is fine, Luthor.”

Lena almost blushes. “Yeah? Well just Lena is fine too.”

//

Maggie, Lucy and Alex ride back to the city together, bikes kicking up dust against the setting sun. They don’t really discuss it, but after such a long day it feels natural to all pull up at Maggie’s, hold hands in the elevator all the way up to her floor. Alex closes the door, turns to watch Maggie take off her coat, Lucy draw her into a soft kiss.

“Get over here Danvers,” Lucy murmurs.

Alex steps into their waiting arms, lets them pull her into a safe, warm hug. There’s kisses, quiet, tired kisses, and the solid presence of her girlfriends, and Alex feels a weight lift off her she’d barely realised was there.

“This feels nice,” she whispers.

“You want to do this then?” Maggie asks, sincerely.

She and Lucy draw back to watch Alex, shoulders relaxing when Alex nods, a soft grin on her face. “I told you seventy million years ago I want to do this.”

Lucy snickers, kisses Alex’s cheek. “Well you can do it after sister night. Go check on Kara and then come back over.”

“Lucy this is my apartment, you can’t just invite people over like you own the place.”

Lucy pecks her on the lips. “We’re dating now. Su casa es mi casa, y mi novia’s casa, y… actually no that’s it, I want you two to myself. Get used to it Sawyer.”

Maggie chases her into the kitchen, the both of them giggling like school girls and Alex knows she’ll have this warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest for the rest of the night.

//

Kara’s dozing on the couch when Alex lets herself in. She’s snuggled in a fluffy blanket, a book on mammoths she must have grabbed from the park’s library lying open on the floor. Alex quietly picks it up, bookmarks Kara’s place. She watches Kara sleep for a moment, her face so calm after the hard day she’d had, before rustling the takeout bags loudly.

Kara’s eyes snap open. “Food.”

“Yeah, your favourite. You’ve earned it.”

Kara happily accepts the food Alex hands her, sitting up and making room for Alex on the couch. “How are the mammoths?”

“Doin’ amahshin,” Kara says through a mouthful of potstickers. She swallows comically. “Amazing. Alex they’re right at home. No complications from the time portal, nothing. And Harriet’s so happy!”

“I’m so glad.”

“We sat and watched them for hours after you left.”

Alex reaches for a napkin. “We, huh?”

Kara blushes, attacks another takeout box. “Me and James. Just to make sure they were okay and settling in.”

Alex nods solemnly. “Of course.”

“It’s my first day, don’t tease me!” Kara whines.

Alex takes  a huge bite to hide her laugh. “Who’s teasing? Not me, no I’m a good big sister I don’t tease about crushes on hunky vets- hey!”

Kara smacks Alex with the pillow again, her laughter ringing out through the apartment. “Put a movie on, asshole.”

Alex reaches for the remote, pulls up Netflix and the two of them settle down, laughing at the cheesy romcom Kara picks, happy and relaxed after a long, but good, day.

[brittysaucefanfic]

Acting is Easy, Loving is Harder

Part 2

(First)(Next)(AU)(AO3)

Lance walks half blind into the coffee shop.

He just woke up after a fourteen hour sleep, and things are still a bit slow to process. He rubs at his eyes with a yawn, careful to keep his shades from falling. He doesn't care for anonymity, the sun is just bright today. The door to the coffee shop opens with a ring of a bell, and Lance trips on his way past the threshold.

Lance slips off his shades as the sunlight is slightly blocked by the building interior, and he makes his way to the order counter. The barista, a tired looking teenage girl half asleep on her feet, looks up at him and Lance watches as she visibly lights up. She plays it off while she’s making his order, but after that it’s like all bets are off. 

Coffees in hand, Lance is bombarded for pictures and autographs, to which he gladly obliges. 

He’s running later than intended when he sets off for the set, still yawning and sipping his coffee, carrying five more in one hand and in the crook of his arm. He wants to make a good impression, so he bought everyone coffee, and tipped that barista a couple hundred. Not like he’s hurting for money all that much in the first place anyways. 

The set is huge, probably bigger than any other filming set Lance has ever been allowed onto, let alone acting a big part in. He gets so turned around he isn’t even sure if he’s on the right set anymore. Lance looks around blearily, looking for someone who doesn’t look extremely busy to give him some directions back to the spot for his meet and greet.

That, of course, was his first mistake.

Lance collides coffee first with a blunt surface and crashes to the ground. He rubs his head with a wince, looking down at his coffee stained clothes as he tries to get his bearings all over again. Hopefully no one saw him walk face first into a wall, how embarrassing.

“What the hell?” A voice says, coming from where the supposed ‘wall’ was supposed to be. “Watch where you’re going newbie!” 

Lance looks up, slightly more confused than he would prefer to be. He’s almost always confused in some way, English being his second language and all, but still. The supposed ‘wall’ is actually a person, a pretty male. 

Long, inky black hair that brushes the nape of his neck, slightly soaked at the ends with coffee. Violet-blue eyes with blown wide pupils, creased into a narrow squint. Strong body, mainly in the shoulders. He’s scowling, and it looks kind of familiar. It takes Lance a moment to realize the hot rude guy is one of his co-stars. It’s Keith Kogane, Hollywood’s resident mystery man. 

Great, his co-star is a jackass. 

“I’m sorry?” Lance says, because he isn’t rude, and he knows he probably should have looked where he was going, but he’s just exhausted. A ‘concert crash’, which is what he calls the feeling of coming off a concert- or multiple in this case- is truly a bitch. It leaves him tired, groggy, jet lagged if he crosses time zones. Which he did. The crash just drains him of all energy. Normally he’d take two days to recuperate, get back on his feet and all, but he has to get to filming.

“You should be.” Keith says, tugging at his coffee stained shirt with a deep grimace. “If you want to make it anywhere in this business, pay attention to what the fuck you’re doing.” 

Lance creases his brow in confusion. He’s been apart of this ‘business’ since he was a kid just out of diapers. Who the hell does Keith think Lance is? Realization sets upon him then, that Keith doesn’t recognize him. 

“I think there’s been some sort of miscommunication here.” Lance starts, but Keith ignores him and saunters off with grumbles in his throat. He walks in a completely different direction from his original course, which suggests he might be going to change clothes. Lance sighs, looking at his own sticky cloths with a crinkled nose. 

Whatever, he’s worked with plenty of divas in this line of work, what’s one more?

Lance readjusts his travel bag, a small backpack with clean clothes and toiletries. Just a carry-on sized bag really, so he had his supplies with him at least. Too bad the only clean clothes he owns at the time is a fancy suit. God, he’s going to melt in this heat, especially after spending a couple months traveling the northern parts of the northern hemisphere. His body is used to the cold now, so this suit will just suffocate him until he can re-adjust.

Lance sneaks off to a secluded building, locks the door, and changes into his suit. 

When he reemerges from his impromptu dressing room, he locates someone who points him in the way of his meet and greet at last. Lance walks almost dejectedly, tired, sore, and now smelling like coffee and sweat. He finally locates the building he is supposed to be meeting his coworkers in, and straightens his shoulders with a practiced smile.

The door opens with a slight pressure, and the quiet chatter in the room silences as he comes into full view. Hunk is the first person Lance sees, who beams at him from a couch. Hunk struggles to get up from his spot on the circle of couches then runs to Lance and picks up off the floor in a bone crushing hug. Lance doesn’t even get the chance to say his greetings before the breath is squeezed out of his chest by force. 

“Lance! Buddy! You’re here! It’s been so long! How was the tour? How was the flight in? Why do you smell like coffee? Oh I’ve missed you!” Hunk says all in one breath. Lance pats Hunk on the back as he struggles to breath through his compressed chest. Shiro laughs from the couches.

“Okay Hunk, I think you’re killing him.” Shiro says. Hunk drops him with a gasp and coos his apologies as Lance coughs to breathe normally again. Lance stands up with a real smile on his face, which is slightly crooked as he’s come to learn from pictures. 

He’s crowded by the rest of the cast, excluding Keith, but who cares about that guy. Allura and Shiro are the first to introduce themselves to him. He spends a decent minute fangirling as he meets his two biggest idols in person for the first time. 

Shiro is as nice as everyone says he is, and Allura is just as sweet as talked about. Pidge is a little blunt, but the abrupt way she speaks is refreshing. As a celebrity it's always hard to find someone who will be real with you. Pidge seems to be that person. He's just about to start introducing himself when the door opens.

Keith walks in, head down as he's looking at his new shirt. It's looser on him, a black vest that shows off his biceps in a very flattering way. Tight on the shoulders, loose in the waist. He walks in talking, apparently addressing Shiro.

"Hey Shiro, I had to borrow one of your shirts because some new guy-" Keith stops mid sentence as he locks eyes with Lance. He doesn't scowl, just frowns.

"What are you doing here?" Keith asks, a slight bit hostile. Then his eyes rake down Lance with a raised eyebrow, not looking the slightest bit impressed. Well damn, fine. You wanna play Kogane, Lance thinks, then let's play.

He turns the charm up to eleven.

Lance rakes a hand through his short hair, hopefully looking suave as he wipes off some sweat from his forehead. He smiles his practiced smile, lets his eyes hood lazily, straightens his shoulders. Lance knows exactly what he's doing, and it is definitely working. If the slight twitch in Keith's expression has anything to say about it anyways.

"The name's Lance, Lance McClain." He says, nothing but flirty as he stretches his hand out to shake. Keith grips his hand slowly and loosely, eyes darting over his shoulder at the others. "I'm your new co-star." He says.

Lance relishes the slight panic in Keith's eyes as he drops his smooth facade. Smile slipping into a scowl to rival Keith's earlier one, eyes narrowing, grip tightening almost painfully.

"Jackass." He says.

Keith goes to say something, but Lance is saved by the bell. Or door actually, but semantics. Coran pops his head in with a cheek stretching smile.

"Ah Lance! Great! I see you've met your cast co-stars as well too! Wonderful. Mind if I steal you away?" Coran says, all in one go, much like Hunk. Lance knows he already likes this one, some Directors can be mean or hard to like. He smiles his goofy smile at him as he drops Keith's hand. Then he promptly shoves past him, none to gently either, shoulder checking him as he steps towards the door.

"Only if you have caffeine," Lance says. "I had a cup earlier, but someone doesn't know how to watch where they're going so I spilled it."

Keith scoffs behind, making his smile nearly drop off his face. But he's an actor, and a damn good one if he says so himself. So he saves face and leaves the meet and greet without even looking back. He throws a 'Later Hunk' over his shoulder as he follows Coran, who is already going on about what is to be expected from the day on set. Lance yawns.

He really cannot handle all of this without his morning sugar and caffeine fix.

******

(First)(Next)(AU)(AO3)

[deans-fire-dragon]

What Comes After, SPN Fanfic, Gen, Chapter 10A

                                            banner by jessicarae24

Title: What Comes After Author: November'sGuest Character's: Sam and Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore, Sam's Stanford friends (most OCs), and a brief appearance by Missouri Mosley. Category: Hurt/Comfort, Horror, Angst, and AU Rating: T (PG-13) Spoilers: None beyond second season if any…it's pretty much AU. Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke and the CW. This is solely written for fun…obviously no profit made. Summary: Sam and Dean travel to Stanford to investigate recent deaths of college students after receiving a call from Rebecca Warren. Meanwhile, as Dean recovers from his injuries, his new and bizarre visions of Jessica continue to haunt him and Sam. Sequel to "The Wake-Up Call."

                                         Back to MASTERPOST

A/N: I’m so sorry guys, but I’m realizing that maybe the fact I’m taking so long to get this posted has caused some continuity errors. I haven’t been re-reading everything prior to the current chapter to make sure it all stays cohesive which is really bothering me. The problem is, when I try to go back and re-read the whole thing, I feel like my earlier writing has so many flaws that I need to stop and re-do all of it (which would seriously be a bad idea if I ever want to finish this). However, I did try to hit the highlights before posting this one and I’m hoping the errors aren’t so bad as to ruin the story for you.  Also, fair warning: this chapter is completely unbetaed. It’s 100% me—mistakes, warts and all. I’ve read it enough that my poor brain just registers static at this point, so apologies in advance for poor writing, negligence and any weirdness that may crop up. Hopefully, nothing is too distracting or problematic for your enjoyment. Given the cold response at FF.net, I'm kinda worried here. As always, thank you so much for reading and I look forward to reading your thoughts. *hugs*

                                     Chapter 10:  Warning Sign                              “I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in                               I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones                            That I started looking for a warning sign…”                                                                  ~Coldplay

Pancakes bubbled in the hot skillet as Lori and Chris debated blueberries versus chocolate chips—of which, they had neither, but that didn’t seem to matter much to the discussion. “Chocolate makes everything better.” “No, you’re thinking of bacon. Bacon makes everything better.” “What happened to team blueberry?” Lori snickered and gave Chris a playful shove. “Well, you see, blueberries are the bacon of the pastry world.” A knock on the door stopped Lori mid-laugh and they exchanged looks. Handing her spatula to Chris, she walked to the door and peeked outside. There stood Sam, head hanging, floppy hair hiding his face. Hands shoved deep in his pockets completed the look of a naughty child come to apologize. As soon as the door opened, his head came up and his cheeks colored. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry,” he began, “and I don’t know what came over me?” Lori crossed her arms. “Really!” he rushed.  I am sorry. My behavior—what I said—was totally uncalled for.” Her arms fell loosely by her sides. “Yeah, it was—” “I…I don’t—” he interrupted “—I mean, I’m pissed at Dean, I am. But I totally crossed the line. I’m not sure why I was so angry.” Sam shook his head helplessly and looked at her with wide hazel eyes. A basset hound had nothing on this kid. She smiled and stood aside. “Come on, this may be your only chance to see Chris cooking.” Sam ducked his head and crossed the threshold. He stopped short when he caught sight of Dean asleep on the couch immediately to his right. Concern pulled his brows in, made him frown. “Is he okay? I-I didn’t even ask earlier.” “I think so—relatively speaking.” Sam frowned, but he didn’t look particularly surprised. “What do you mean?” She sighed, wondering how much information she should give Sam—what Dean would be okay with him knowing and what he needed to know. “After you left, he had a bad breathing attack. Turned blue and scared us to death.” She shrugged. “But we gave him his inhaler and that seemed to take care of it. He’ll be worn out the rest of the day, though. Attacks that severe really sap the body’s energy levels.” She watched Dean for a second and, seeing no signs of distress, turned toward the kitchen. “Go ahead and help yourself to some coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.” She exchanged glances with Chris when he handed the spatula back to her. Removing the pancakes from griddle to platter, she covertly watched the brothers. Sam stood next to the couch, gaze fixed on Dean for a long moment. A range of emotions played across his face and he couldn’t seem to settle on any one thing. He grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and spread it over his sleeping brother. The care he took pulling and smoothing it over Dean’s shoulders tugged her heart into a swell of emotion. Face crinkled in concern, he joined them in the kitchen. Chris offered Sam a piece of blackened bacon. “Olive branch?” Sam smiled and took the greasy offering, stuffing the entire slice in his mouth. He spoke around the wad of meat. “Bacon brings people together.” The two men grinned at each other—at the old joke they shared. “I’m really sorry about earlier,” Sam apologized. “All this must be getting to me more than I thought.” “Totally understand—but I’m not sure I’m the one you owe an apology.” Chris’s eyebrows rose meaningfully as he bumped Sam’s shoulder to soften his words. Sam looked toward the couch, his face twisted between exasperated and troubled. “He makes me so mad sometimes—stupid overprotective crap. He’s always been this way, always reckless when it comes to himself.” Chris nodded in understanding, but said, “He’s not completely wrong, though. Anyone can see you need closure—and someone has to stop this thing.” Sam met Chris’s gaze. “Yeah, but does it have to be Dean? I get why he does it, but does he ever stop to think how I’ll feel if something happens to him? You know, it’s not fair. I’d do anything for him, including keeping him safe.” Staring at his feet, Sam sniffed. “I don’t wanna lose him.” Lori quietly set the table, not wanting to interrupt. Sam’s anguish hung heavily around them, though, and she couldn’t help staring toward the couch. Her heart ached for Sam. For both brothers. It seemed tragic that their love for each other had put them at cross-purposes. She couldn’t imagine doing what they did—such a dangerous job and each one so scared for the other. Chris squeezed Sam’s neck. “Look, man, I don’t pretend to know your relationship with your brother. I mean, I get there’s baggage—that much is obvious—but what’s between you and your brother is…it’s not something I expected. It’s hard to reconcile the way you guys are together with how you never spoke about him the whole time I’ve known you.” Chris sighed. “I thought I had you guys—him—dialed in, but now I…I don’t know. But I’m certain he’s not purposely trying to hurt you.” “I know that. That’s the problem. He’s always tried to protect me from everything. And, you know, I’m not a kid anymore. He doesn’t have to shoulder everything. I want him to lean on me like I’ve always leaned on him.” “Yeah, well, easier said than done. Little brothers will always be little brothers, Sam.” Sam looked at Chris, sympathy easing the tension between his brows. “Yeah, I know. Chris, you gotta know you weren’t—” “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Chris turned away to finish piling bacon on a plate. Sam watched him for a while then nodded. “Okay.” “You gonna move outta the way or stand there like a moose in the road?” Chris smirked. Stepping around Sam, he took the plate of bacon and set it in the middle of the table. Lori turned the conversation to less charged topics. “If you guys grab the juice and milk from the refrigerator, we can eat. Oh, and grab those glasses sitting by the sink. I’ll get Dean.” Sitting on the coffee table, she shook Dean’s shoulder. “Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey.” When Dean didn’t rouse, she jostled him a little more. “Dean, time to wake up. Hey, some of us are hungry.” This elicited a grimace and a groan of displeasure as he shifted fully onto his back. “Mmm—time’s it?” he grumbled. His eyelids fluttered, but stay closed. “Time to wake up and eat. Let’s go already!” She smiled at the creases carved into the side of his face and the hair sticking up along the side of his head. Her fingers itched to smooth the wayward strands down. Instead, she removed the blanket Sam had so carefully placed over him and quickly folded it back over the couch. He blinked his blood-shot eyes open, then slammed them closed with a grunt. Cautiously, he peered out slits of green and slowly levered himself up on an elbow. Lips thinning, Dean pressed fingers to his forehead, brows pulling together. “Headache?” she asked. “Yeah.” “I’ll bet it’s a doozy, too. Let me help you sit up and I’ll go get something for it, okay? C’mon, old man, easy does it,” she teased, bracing his shoulders. She knew his back had to be throbbing, so she tried to take as much of his weight as she could and secretly planned on giving him something more than over the counter meds. With her help, he pushed fully upright—his logger boots clunking to the ground as he leaned into the couch, resting his head against the back. “No one should feel this bad if liquor’s not involved,” he grumbled. She frowned. “No, they really shouldn’t.” Darting a glance at Sam, she leaned in and whispered, “You need to let someone check you over—someone besides me.” “I told you, I’m fine.” Dean stared down his nose, not daring to lift his head. “Nothing that won’t heal. Why are we whispering?” Poised to whisper back, she switched to an easy smile when she noticed Sam coming their way. “Hey, Sam, look who decided to join us?” Dean’s head twisted so he could see, but Sam was already coming around the couch and into view. Right before her eyes, Dean camouflaged everything but the tension in his shoulders. Shaking her head at him, she stood and said, “I’ll get you something for your headache.”

                                       Sam ran a hand over his mouth nervously. “Hey, ready to eat? We’ve got pancakes, bacon—and coffee, a big pot of it.” Dean studied him carefully, his expression impassive and guarded. It hurt to have his brother look at him like that, but given what had happened earlier, Sam guessed he had it coming. Raking his eyes over Dean, he checked for signs of injury. Other than being white-washed pale with deepening smudges under his eyes, he seemed relatively intact. But he knew the blood had come from somewhere and the tightness around his brother’s eyes indicated his pain level was pretty high. “You okay?” Dean asked huskily. And wasn’t that just like Dean? “I think I should be asking you that. Are you?” At Dean’s raised brows, he clarified, “Okay, I mean?” “Yeah, I’m good.” Sam could see the lie as plain as the freckles on his brother’s face. Sam huffed disbelief and drew his bottom lip in, deciding not to call him on it. Like a lightning bolt, it hit Sam that he had no idea whatsoever how Dean felt and hadn’t had in over twenty-four hours. Yes, they’d worked on making sure Dean’s thing was under lid as much as possible, but there wasn’t a hint of anything—nothing but the normal connection born of blood and long hours spent together. He wanted to ask Dean about it, but Lori came breezing back in with an oblong, white pill and a half glass of water. Sam recognized it as an acetaminophen based narcotic—definitely overkill for a simple headache. “Here we go,” she said. Dean scowled at the pill. “Don’t you have Tylenol?” When Lori directed a sour look at him, Dean popped the pill in his mouth without another word. Sam felt his eyebrows rise, not used to seeing his brother so easily bullied into things unless it was Dad doing the bullying. When he was done, she took the glass from him, saying, “You guys go ahead, I’ll be there in a sec.” Chris had taken a seat, digging in already. He looked up and mumbled around a mouthful, “What? I’m hungry and you’re taking too long.” Sam smiled in amusement and stretched his arm out to Dean. “C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Dean stared at the hand. His eyes flicked up to Sam’s and he said, “Um, I can’t-I don’t—my chest’s a little sore…” he trailed off. “What happened to your chest?” “Dude saved my life, that’s what happened to his chest,” Chris provided helpfully. Sam turned back to his brother, his eyebrows crawling off his face. Dean grimaced. “It’s not a big deal… Stop it, Sam—dude, your face is gonna freeze like that.” Frustration churned inside him, but he let the emotions leak away on a long, measured exhale—he didn’t want to fight. He could see his brother was a mess and that was enough. Besides, the more he showed anger, the more Dean would shut down and that wouldn’t help anybody. “All right, but we’re talking about this later.” Sam ignored Dean’s eye roll as he bent to grab his brother’s elbow. The effort it took to get him up rattled Sam—he had to take almost all of Dean’s weight to get him on his feet. Tremors shook through Dean and he swayed. Sam tightened his hold and hung on, fingers curled into his brother’s flesh, bruising. Bright fear shivered through him. “Y’alright?” Dean nodded, but he didn’t pull away like Sam expected. Instead, he allowed Sam to keep a steadying hand at his elbow all the way to the table. Did he even realize Sam was hovering? Uneasiness zipped along Sam’s spine and his stomach churned in worried swoops. The worst part? He couldn’t say a word—not here, not in front of everyone. One more thing he’d have to shelve for later. Getting through this meal was going to be torture. Lori and Chris peppered casual breakfast conversation with surreptitious glances at them. Awkward didn’t begin to cover how Sam felt being so closely observed. And if he felt awkward, Sam was downright sorry for his brother. Scrutiny gravitated Dean’s way more and more as the meal continued, zeroing in on his mostly untouched plate. Dean, for the most part, kept his eyes down, focused on poking holes into his pancakes with his fork. Now and then, he’d pick up a piece of bacon and take a bite. His silence, though, shouted louder than if he’d participated in the conversation happening around him. “Dean, you need to eat,” Lori pointed out when everyone else was nearly done. “That pain pill will sit better on your stomach if it’s not empty.” “Sorry,” he glanced up, “not very hungry.” Sam eyed the shake of his brother’s hand as he reached for his coffee. Halfway to his mouth, Dean lost his grip, spilling hot liquid over the front of him and sending the mug crashing to pieces across the floor. “Dammit,” Dean hissed, jumping back from the table, hastily brushing at his clothes. Lori shot up from her chair to grab some paper towels while Chris stared at all of them with cheeks puffed full of his last bite. Sam knelt and picked up the shards of broken stoneware, listening to Dean’s shaky apologies. “I’m sorry, it-it…it just slipped—dammit,” he said, bitter and contrite. “I’m so sorry—” “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not worried about the mug.” Lori handed Dean the paper towels. “I’m worried about you. Did it burn you anywhere?” “N-no, I’m …” he trailed off as he stared down at himself. “Are you sure?” She reached for Dean’s shirt, but he caught her wrist and stopped her. “I’m fine.” “I’m fine,” he repeated a few seconds later, after she’d already knelt to the floor next to Sam. Sam looked up, concerned by the weird tone. “Dean?” His breath was stolen by the chill that freeze-dried his heart. Dean stood rigid, hands clenched at his sides, paper toweling crumpled in one shaking fist. His pupils were blown wide-open—stricken vulnerability naked on his face. Sam didn’t think the others noticed—Lori still sopping up coffee and Chris wrestling with the trashcan’s stubborn lid. Sam squashed the urge to grab his brother and hide him away before they could. “Dean?” Sam stood, hands clutching dripping paper and broken mug, brown coffee polka-dotting his boots. His brother’s eyes anchored to his, a desperate mooring in a vast, vicious stormy ocean. Sam’s heart thud-fluttered, the beat picking up and bumping hard against his chest. He fervently wished for the connection between them—he needed to know what made Dean look like that. “What? What is it?” His words seemed to break the spell. Dean half shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and shuddering. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “You want me to pour you some more?” Lori’s voice intruded. Their heads turned in sync to watch her throw a mass of wadded paper into the trash bin Chris was holding. “No,” Dean slowly answered. “I’m good.” She rummaged through an open drawer before turning back to them with a tea towel. Rooted, his brother remained unmoving until Lori came over and began brushing off his chest and thighs. “I got it,” he said quietly, taking the towel from her. Confused by the weirdness permeating the air, Sam didn’t realize he was drawing attention himself until Chris jabbed him with an elbow. “You gonna just stand there dripping coffee all over your feet?” Chris eyed him with concern, but his voice was casual and teasing. Sam glanced down at the saturated napkins and shards cupped in his hands. “Um, right. Guess I should—” He raised a self-effacing eyebrow at Chris, shrugging, and threw the trash into the bin. He washed his hands and turned back, automatically finding his brother. Dean held his damp, stained shirt away from his skin, face screwed up in disgust. “I hate to eat and run, but, uh,” he cast a look at Sam, “I think we’re gonna head out. You ready?” Sam nodded, eager to get them out of there, and quickly cleared his dirty dishes from the table. “Yeah, um, thank you for breakfast. Been a while since we had homemade pancakes.” “Not a problem,” Lori said, taking dishes from Dean’s hands. Bewilderment passed over her face when Dean failed to acknowledge her presence, instead, robotically walking to the middle of the room as soon as his hands were empty. She bent close to Sam and whispered, “Let me send the extras home with you in case he changes his mind about eating.” “Yeah, alright.” Sam nodded. Appreciation for the concern she showed his brother skipped alongside the guilt from the less than kind things he’d thought—and said—about her. She stretched plastic wrap around the food and paper plate, handing it off to Sam. “Is he okay?” Dean’s soft voice drew their attention. “Um, I’m not sure…” Dean patted his pockets. “Uh…keys?” Since when does Dean misplace his car keys? Sam felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe where nothing made sense. “They’re in the bedroom,” Chris called over his shoulder, shoving the trash can back into place. “Should be on the dresser.” Dean nodded, looking toward a room off to the side, his hands still patting at his pockets absently. “I’ll get them,” Lori said when he made no effort to move. Dean nodded again, still weirdly lost and vacant. It was so unlike his brother, Sam went to him and touched his arm, needing to ground himself in the contact. Dean flinched, but his expression cleared and he looked a little more present. Lori came back with his keys and amulet in her hand. And, wow, how had Sam missed that? Dean took both, but immediately handed the keys over. “That everything?” Sam asked. Dean glanced scornfully at the plate of food, but nodded as he drew his thumb along the side of his nose and moved slowly toward the door. He turned at the last minute to address the room. “Thanks. For everything. And I meant what I said,” he directed the last at Lori. “Yeah, I know. Please, take care of yourself. I’d like a chance to collect on that favor someday.” “I’ll do my best.” His smile would’ve been convincing if it had come anywhere near his eyes. Maybe if the corners hadn’t been lopsided with uncertainty and the depths of his eyes melancholy. Sam tightened his grip around the car keys and watched his brother shiver as he headed out the door. Turning to his friend settled once again at the kitchen table, he asked, “Chris, you need a ride?” “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m gonna finish this.” He lifted his coffee cup. “Lori can give me a ride.” “Yeah, don’t worry about him. We’re gonna head over to the hospital in a little bit. Sam,” Lori called as he moved to follow out the door, “make sure he rests.” Sam shifted onto his heels, considering. He shook his head ruefully. “I get the feeling I’ve missed something big—but I also get the feeling I should thank you both for looking after my stubborn brother.” Pointing at Chris, Sam continued, “We’ll talk later.” Sam smiled at them both, pulling the door shut behind him. Part B continued here!