#my phone and laptop show colours entirely differently it turns out

[gayfour]

[sky-berrie]

Stitch - Damian

Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood. 

The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.

You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.

You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.

“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.

“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”

Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.

“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”

“Do you remember how to sew?”

“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”

“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.

You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.

You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.

“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.

“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”

“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.

You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.

When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.  

You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.

“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”

Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.

“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”

You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.

You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.

You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.  

“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”

You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”

Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.

“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”

You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.

“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.

You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”

“No time,” he said.

“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”

“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.

“Please! I…”

“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”

“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.

“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.

“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.

Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.

Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.

“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.

You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”

It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.

“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”

You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.

Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Your Love Is Killing Me (Part 1)

Pairing : Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Meera Bose)                                            Summary : A canon divergent take on the emotions Ethan and Meera face on returning from Miami, and what happens when Meera faints in the hospital atrium.                                    Category : Angst                                                          Warnings : A few swearings, PCOD and cardiovascular disease that comes with it, stress and anxiety                                                        Word Count : 1724

A/N : So this is my first fic,🙈 so please ignore some of the rookie mistakes, also please send in criticisms, I would love to improve. Got tired with clone Ethan and PB writers and the book 1 replay got to me so I thought torturing myself through angst will be a good idea. Happy Reading!  ❤

Meera shifts in her bed. Rolling over to face away from the window. It was another sleepless night for her. Where usually she used to be famished after coming home from work and all she desired for was her head to touch the pillow the last 5 days was completely different. These 5 nights she spent staring into the ceiling as a train of thoughts ran through her mind. Dr. Ramsey's words kept on ringing in her head "I need to be able to push you to your limits. To help you become the doctor you want to be. The one I know you can be." Lost in her reminiscence of that magical moment in the balcony of the Miami hotel, Meera didn't seem to notice the sky changing its colours from the dark starry blue to the first hues of gold, orange and red, signifying the beginning of a new day. She turned over thinking what went wrong, a calculation she was doing for the zillionth time and each time she came to a fruitless answer. Meera was interrupted by the sound of her alarm, one which was useless as she wasn't able to close her eyes for a single minute. 

She sat up in bed rubbing her eyes and catching a glimpse of herself on the full sized mirror. She was in her comfiest sweatpants, her uncombed curls sprawled over her shoulders and face. She removed her hair from her face and found tired eyes, deep dark circles and chapped lips staring at her from the mirror. She closed her eyes, hugged her knees close and rested her forehead on her knees as she thought about her plan for the day. For the past five days she had planned her days carefully so as to not run into the grumpy attending at any cost. She was on high alert. Any sign of him nearby and she always made an one eighty degree rotation in order to escape him. She went to meet the patient X to take his regular vitals and monitor required medicines on hours she was cent percent sure Dr. Ramsey was busy. She replied with lies and smiles to Dr. Banerji's unending question about the conference, Miami, Ethan and the sudden change in her behavior. Although she sometimes felt he could see right through her. 

Meera stood up from the bed and went into the shower. As soon as the cold water hit her skin she remembered how Ethan had abandoned her in the hotel in Miami. How she had been sitting there on the bed dressed in luxurious blue with her heart and bed cold as tears swelled up in her eyes. She remembered the awkward flight from Miami to Boston and the bare three sentences of exchange between her and Ethan. How she thought that the flight washroom was her safe haven and how she wished to spend the entire flight there. All these thoughts were such an emotional burden on her and she finally gave in to the inevitable. She double downed with sobs as she cried in the shower keeping as quiet as it was humanly possible for her so that her roommates won't get to know. After a few minutes she was finally able to compose herself. She stepped out of the shower a towel wrapped around her as she rubbed her hair dry. Meera got into a fresh pair of scrubs combed and tied her hair into a tight high ponytail. As she applied a generous amount of foundation to hide her dark circles and chapstick to moisturize her lips her phone beeped with a notification from her period tracker which notified that her period was 3 days late. She didn't think much about that as she had been dealing with PCOD since she was sixteen. She had almost defeated the disease with changes in her lifestyle and a few medicines, but after all there is no permanent cure. She had learned to live with it over the years. 

Finally she looked at herself in the mirror. She was now looking like Dr. Meera Bose the confident number one intern at Edenbrook Hospital. She forced on a smile to face her roommates outside her bedroom door and the world in general. This is what Meera's life looked like for the past five days. She was tired of putting on a happy show for the outside world and hence once she was inside her room with no one except herself her thoughts collided against each other and finally left her crying. She was tired of going through the same crescendo of thoughts and emotions again and again but there was no other way out because the only possible solution to end her pain, in Dr. Ramsey's words was "unethical and complicated."    

It was noon when Meera was already done with 6 cases. She also made it a point to check up on Dr. Banerji first thing in the morning when she was completely certain Ethan was in a board meeting. She was once again walking the crowded but motivated halls of Edenbrook navigating her way to her next patient's room. 

Meera felt a sudden piercing pain in the middle of her chest which slowly travelled to her left arm. It started as a mild one but quickly accelerated. From the corner of her eye she saw Ethan rounding a corner and walking towards her. It had been six days since both of them were in the same corridor. Before she was ready to process anything further she broke out into a sweat and started feeling tremendous trouble in breathing properly. All she remembers next is darkness and the sound of her charts slipping away from her hand and hitting the floor. In the last moments before her unconsciousness hit she felt someone holding her close and tight, the chaos of the hospital becoming silent to her as she tried with all her might to figure out if she had the opportunity to be in Ethan's arms once again like she was in Miami but she failed.  

 Ethan was very annoyed when he was held all morning in a stupid board meeting and wasn't able to finish any of his work. Ethan often doesn't listen to half of the things the board members say. He utilises those hours to mentally untangle the complications of the diagnostic team patient, something which he felt was much much more important than listening to entitled doctors who aren't even good as they think themselves to be. But today it was different. He was unable to concentrate at all. His mind wandered back to the one curly haired brunette intern. These past six days Ethan had immersed himself in work. Between the interns, the diagnostic team and Naveen's mystery illness his mind was pretty busy. He took on more cases than usual, pulled all nighters at the hospital and the little time he was at home he did find some article he needed to finish writing on his laptop. This was the only way he could keep her out of his head. Atleast this is what he believed, because work, patient care and her career was the only thing standing between him and her.

He was quickly making his way towards the diagnostic team office once he was finally freed from the conference room. He turned a corner and started walking through the corridors, pinching the bridge of his nose. That's when he heard a thud and saw a chaos forming around a patient who had just fainted, up ahead in the corridor. He picked up his pace ready to yell at the intern who was responsible for this. When he was merely steps away, he stopped in his track, completely recognizing that it wasn't a patient but an intern. The intern that topped the charts in the diagnostic team competition, the intern he was so keen on avoiding, and for the first time in years his doctor senses didn't kick in. He was looking at the intern, not as Dr. Ethan Ramsey but as just Ethan.

She was nestled in the strong arms of the Averio paramedic she was friends with. Ethan snapped out as the chaos became louder, a stretcher was brought and Meera was lifted into it. Surrounded by her intern friends and Dr. Delarosa, she was being rolled towards the ER. The immediate thing Ethan did was follow her, but that's when his pager beeped. It was a code blue from Baz. Ethan stopped once again evaluating his next step. He knew the diagnostic team was already understaffed and needed him, on the other hand Meera who- who- who was exactly what to Ethan he didn't know. Ethan did the same mistake he had done in Miami, he put his work, before her inspite of what his heart wanted.  

It took Ethan twenty minutes to handle the situation of the Diagnostic Team patient. After which he was on his way to the ER, determined to check up on Meera. He felt, him running after just an intern would stir up the hospital gossip. But did he care for it? He didn't, until he heard a few nurses huddled together talking in loud whispers. "I think she is pregnant, Mary told me she was feeling nauseous the other day." one of them said. "Are you serious?? Do you think it was Dr. Ramsey ?" another one asked. "I don't know, they spent two whole days alone in Miami, who knows what they were upto." the first one replied. "You know, I think you are right. Dr. Olsen told me that she wasn't even half smart and intelligent as he was and yet she is leading the competition. It's very clear Ramsey favours her." a third joined in. "Whatever it is, I don't know what he sees in her. I could be standing her naked waiting for him to fuck me, but he wouldn't budge." with this the group of nurses started giggling and moved towards the atrium their back towards Ethan. After this encounter he couldn't risk being found close to her. It's her career that was at stake. Something that he priced over his own feelings for her. Dejected, he made his way back towards his office, locking the door behind him and immersing himself in paperwork.

Thank you so much if you have read till here, it means the world to me. I will put up the second part as soon as possible, till then sending love and hugs your way! 💖

Tagging : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd

+@choicesbookclub   

Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 💜

Part 2 is up now! Read it here

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Night Meeting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夜会之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Important references are made to Victor’s Return Home Date, which has not been released in EN. Do read that first before proceeding :>

[ This date was released in CN on 26 October 2020 ]

The red light makes its countdown from 99 seconds. Victor pulls on the handbrake, turning to look at me. 

Victor: What are you looking at - the rules of the competition?

MC: Nope. I’m checking to see who’s participating in the competition, and whether there’s anyone I recognise.

Half a year ago, Victor sent out invitations to small-and-medium enterprises - LFG’s investees - inviting them to participate in a simulation competition in Loveland City.

The winner of the competition will acquire a fifty million dollar investment from LFG.

A few companies politely declined, feeling that LFG was too lofty. But a few open-minded young CEOs were willing to participate.

And I am one of them.

Victor: Goldman is responsible for this competition, so you can look for him if you face any issues.

MC: Does this mean Goldman will have all the contact details of the participating CEOs?

I hold up the notebook laptop in my hands and show it to him, deliberately giving him a sincere smile. 

MC: Do these business elites have good editing skills, or are they truly this handsome?

A sudden drizzle descends from the gloomy sky.

Victor taps on the steering wheel indifferently, his ring finger clicking the windshield wiper.

Victor: There isn’t a discrepancy between the actual people and the photographs.

MC: So they truly... have their merits.

Probably because my awe sounded too genuine, Victor’s eyelid twitches slightly.

Victor: You could look for them yourself to get their contact details. The reason why LFG is holding this competition is to allow for interaction among elite businessmen from different industries, and to expand their network.

MC: ...yes yes yes. A few days after interacting with them, we’ll be able to clarify what they are good at, what sort of personalities they have, and whether there’s a possibility of collaboration in the future. To a start-up company, financing channels that can provide these resources are even more important than the funds themselves. Victor... I know all this.

Victor: But?

MC: But according to the rules of the competition, I have to be locked in the hotel for a full seven days.

Victor turns a deaf ear to me. He pushes the handbrake, stepping on the accelerator.

In a soft voice, I continue sending out hints. 

MC: Don’t you have anything else to warn me about? For example, to take care of my safety?

Victor turns the steering wheel to the right, casting his line of sight to the rearview mirror.

Victor: You’re very safe in LFG’s hotel. There’s nothing to be cautious about.

With this, the logo of LFG’s hotel comes into view. 

I reach out to unbuckle my seatbelt, but Victor stops me.

Victor: I’m driving to the underground carpark.

MC: The rain isn’t that bad. Alighting me at the entrance will do.

Victor doesn’t respond. He has already passed the gate, and has entered the carpark.

After coursing through the familiar carpark, the car pulls up in front of the elevator. 

Since it’s still early, only a sparse number of cars are in the carpark. The surroundings are quiet, and there’s not a single person around. 

...I first glance at him out of the corner of my eyes.

MC: I’m off.

Victor: Mm.

Then, I unbuckle my seatbelt. 

MC: Are you going back to LFG now?

Victor: Mm.

After a pause, I take my handbag.

MC: I’m... leaving now?

Victor lowers his eyes slightly, releasing a very soft chuckle.

He’s doing this on purpose! I immediately push the car door open--

A hand suddenly lands on the right side of my forehead. I subconsciously turn my face to the left. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my hair.

Victor: Be safe.

His low voice encapsulates a mildly teasing smile and breath. It’s as though he’s giving me a tiny, tangled compliment. Even his lowered voice is mixed with cheerful satisfaction.

I nuzzle my head into his palm. His sleeve and wristwatch slide downwards, revealing the edge of his palm and his long, slender fingers.

MC: You too. Drive safely.

After disembarking from the car, I turn around again and wave at him.

MC: I’ll strive to win the competition!

-

Goldman: Firstly, I’m grateful to all the participants for coming here despite your busy schedules.

Goldman: I trust that everyone has taken a cursory look through the rules of the competition before coming here. 

Goldman: In this competition, you have to study an LFG acquisition case, and produce an analysis report from any perspective. 

Goldman: The employees will be distributing the case study materials to the participants. According to the rules, the submission date for the report is the final day of the competition. 

Goldman: In the meantime, everyone can use the leisure time in the evening to work on this task.

Without a lively atmosphere that other competitions have, Goldman informs everyone about the important topic of this competition the moment everyone takes their seats.

The meeting room is on the 32nd floor. The view outside the window features Loveland City’s financial centres and tall skyscrapers, the glass windows of every building refracting rational, cold light. 

Enveloped by the overcast sky and light drizzle, the entire business district looks extremely serene. 

Very soon, hardcopy versions of the case study materials, as well as a USB drive containing the files, are in my hands. The sound of paper can be heard as the people around me start reading.

After a while, the participants exchange glances, and start discussing softly.

??: Business plans, meeting minutes, financial statements, employee resumes... LFG is letting us look at every brick of SE. 

??: It was worth making the trip here - this is all insider information! It’s such a waste that there aren’t contact numbers on the employee resumes, so I can’t tell who is who. 

??: I like this topic. It’s in line with Victor’s style. 

Out of all LFG investments, SE - a network video platform - was its worst.

When the information was first announced, every financial platform used phrases like “LFG’s Battle of Waterloo” or “Victor’s wrong decision” to attract attention. 

Even though many people have already forgotten about this matter with the passage of time, Victor, without doubt, still remembers it.

-

In the evening, I read through the materials, which span over three hundred pages, seriously. Every day and night that Victor revisited SE’s business model flashes past my eyes. 

Victor must have found a lead here, and clearly identified every minor detail resulting in SE’s collapse. 

Now that I’m the one in his shoes, can I do it?

Feeling drowsy, I clip up my fringe and lean against the chair, staring at the ceiling.

My phone suddenly rings. It’s a certain someone’s special ringtone, and I’m so surprised that I jolt awake.

Victor: How was today?

MC: It was very enriching. I made so many new friends, and participated in the most difficult ERP Sand Table Simulation in my entire life. I even had a seafood buffet in LFG’s hotel, which is deserving of its reputation. What about you? Are you still in the office?

[Trivia] An ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning System) Sand Table Simulation (沙盘模拟 - “sha pan mo ni”) is a relatively new teaching mode of accounting in China, which cultivates one’s ability of business operation, coordination and interpersonal communication. It basically simulates the operation of an enterprise, which includes marketing, production, logistics, financial centres, etc.

Victor: Mm.

MC: Are you standing at the window looking at the scenery?

Victor: Mm, I just realised that the rain has stopped.

I draw back the curtains, looking at the night view beneath my feet. It’s already very late, but the lights from office buildings illuminate the night distinctly. 

They even reveal the sharp and lonely colours of the cloudy night.

This is one representation of “business”.

Before the collapse of the magnificent SE, its building was often lit up - a starlight converging with the city’s night scene.

The same goes for LFG’s building.

MC: Once you’re done, head home early to rest.

Victor: Are you preparing to sleep?

Looking at the tiny mountain of materials on the table, I let out an anguished wail.

MC: CEO Victor, don’t you know how demanding the rules you set for the competition are? How could I be sleeping at this time!

At the other end of the line, Victor cannot help but laugh.

Victor: In that case, I’ll wish you the winning prize?

MC: Sure, I accept your blessings!

-

This is the fourth cup of coffee I’m having today.

Time is tight, so I’m unable to comb through every single one of SE’s business proposals and then formulate them into words. I need to go straight into the heart of the matter, and hit the nail on the head!

Even so, I stare at the file on my laptop which currently spans over thirty thousand words. There’s a sense of unease in my heart.

Did I include too much nonsense? 

It’s already the evening of the fifth day, and I’ll have to submit the report in 37 hours...

Restless and anxious, I down the remaining half of my americano, then draw a bunch of squiggles on my draft.

The doorbell suddenly rings. 

A possibility flashes in my mind. I run over frantically, looking through the peephole at the person standing outside.

MC: W-wait for a moment. Victor, wait for a while!

With fiery speed, I rush to the dressing table to tidy myself up, then rush back to open the door.

Victor: Did I come at the wrong time?

MC: No you didn’t...

Before I finish speaking, Victor reaches out to touch the pimple patch on my forehead.

Victor: What’s this?

MC: Worry, internal heat, loss of sleep, supper... The main reason could be the fried chicken I had for supper the day before yesterday.

Victor: You don’t know how to eat something better even with the competition funds from the company.

Without waiting for him to continue, I press him down onto the sofa in the living room.

MC: Let’s continue our chat later. Hold on, I’ll tidy up some things!

It becomes evident that I have some issues estimating how long “a moment” is.

By the time I finish combing through my outline and prepare to do a further refinement, more than an hour has passed. Victor remains seated on the sofa, waiting for me. 

I blink at him guiltily.

Victor: Are you done?

MC: Not yet, but I can take a break~

I walk over, kneeling on the empty space on the sofa, leaning my entire body onto him.

Victor shifts closer, placing a hand on my waist in a habitual manner.

Victor: How’s the competition?

With a frown, I shake my head.

MC: As of now, I’m ranked in 13th place. Your fifty million dollar investment wouldn’t reach me.

Victor glances at the outline and the half-completed draft in my hand.

Victor: You still want to compete when you have no prospects?

MC: Of course. I’ve already worked on this for so long, so I should at least produce something.

I tilt my head on Victor’s shoulder, taking another look at the report I've spent days writing. The more I look at it, the more dissatisfied I am. So, I just heave several deep sighs.

MC: But some of the competitors are really formidable. I can tell that they’re treating this competition as a game - they don’t put much heart into it, and they aren’t very serious about it. Even so, they win very easily, and take the lead very easily.

I say excitedly, straightening up and facing Victor. 

MC: For example, the CEO from Yao Yue, the media company, has won me over. During the ERP Sand Table Simulation on the first day, he actually went to other groups to poach members halfway through. And poaching other people was just the first step. Once their funding chain was in operation, they went around purchasing other production lines, and continuously expanded their scope.

Victor smiles faintly, his expression reflecting a tacit understanding.

Victor: You aren’t bad either. Goldman told me that among all the competitors, you were the first one who thought of capitalising on rent to construct the production line. 

MC: You said it yourself - whatever isn’t prohibited in the rules is permissible.

Furthermore, Victor had prepared for numerous eventualities during the game, and arranged for Goldman to react accordingly. Nobody’s creativity can disrupt the process of the game. 

Thinking about this, I once again feel disheartened, plopping myself back atop Victor’s chest, looking at the report that I have no idea how to amend.

MC: As compared to them, I’m still far behind... It’s so difficult to surpass you.

Victor suddenly lapses into silence, his hand on my back.

-

The air-con in the middle blows out rustling wind. It’s very soft, but I hear it very clearly because of how quiet the room is. 

Accompanying the regulated white noise is the comfortable warmth from Victor’s arms. Four cups of coffee doesn’t seem to be of much use.

Drowsily, I stare at a sentence on the report, warning myself repeatedly: I can’t sleep yet.

Perhaps noticing that I haven’t spoken for a long time, and that I’m so tired that my eyes have drifted shut, Victor gently takes the file away from my hand.

MC: ...I’m not sleeping.

Hearing my indistinct mumble, he lets out a resigned chuckle. 

Victor: Are you going to continue amending it?

So tired that I can no longer open my eyes, I give him a nod, rubbing the side of my face on his chest.

The scent of a fresh bath entwines with cologne, twirling around the tip of my nose. It’s such a pleasant scent that it makes one feel as though breathing is a kind of luxury.

Likely not knowing how to deal with me, Victor holds onto the file and doesn’t move.

It’s only until I hug his waist contentedly like a cat which has had its fill of being coquettish, that he flips through the file, probably wanting to have a quick look at what I’ve written.

After a while, he touches the ends of my hair.

Victor: The overall reasoning has no issues. But regarding the marketing strategy...

I reach out to cover his mouth. Because I’m not looking, my fingers fumble on his face for a moment.

MC: This is a competition, so you can't help. And this is my competition, so I can do it independently... Also, you specially came over at night just to comment on my report?

Victor: Why else do you think I’d be here?

I open my eyes lazily and look at his chin. With a hum, I bury my face into the crook of his neck, coquettishly blowing into his ear.

MC: Teacher Victor...

MC: I’m calling you ‘Teacher’ not because I want to talk about business methods and progress in work.

Victor doesn’t say anything. He places the file on the coffee table. After a pause, he speaks softly.

Victor: You never mentioned that your goal was to surpass me. 

MC: I have, but you didn’t take me seriously...

I rise from his chest, giving him a firm look.

MC: I’m not that silly to think that just because I’ve won a few media-related prizes and produced a few good programs, I’m already on the same level as you. You’ve been taking care of me in a greenhouse, keeping out the wind and rain for me. All I can do is to make a few flowers bloom under your meticulous care.

The lenses of his thin spectacles reflect the warm and yellow ceiling lights. Behind the lenses, there are deep emotions in Victor’s eyes.

Victor: When did you have such a thought?

My line of sight falls onto the file on the coffee table. On the first page of the report, the words “SE” have been circled with a pencil.

MC: When SE got into trouble, you flew to France and were so busy that you didn’t sleep for days...

MC: And when you were back in the country, you spent half the year arranging for the sale of the property and didn’t tell me a single word about it. That’s when it started.

This has been a knot residing in my heart, and I've never brought it up to him.

I really wanted to help even a little, but I didn’t manage to do anything.

Unable to be needed by him, unable to become a person he can face difficulties with... A voice in my heart has always been reminding me of such a reality. And I'm not going to simply resign myself to it.

Victor: What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.

Victor lifts his head to look at me, his eyes filled with his usual resoluteness.

Although I only said one thing, he seems to have understood everything.

Victor: You’ve never been a flower I’ve been raising in a greenhouse. At any point in time, I do need you very much. When SE was in trouble and the PR Department couldn’t communicate with the media, they talked to you about it. It’s not as if you weren’t of any help.

You tilt your head to look at him. Furrowing your brows, you bite your lip.

MC: Could we not talk about such general principles? I can understand them, but the things I can do are always limited... Which is why I’ll not give up on this goal.

Victor sits upright, closing the distance between us. His grip on my back tightens slightly, and his voice is even lower than before.

Victor: Who was the one who said she didn’t want to talk about business methods and progress in work? 

Victor: Is the phrase “I need you” also considered a general principle?

I lower my head and chuckle, pushing at his chest lightly with my fingertips. He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he shifts forward even more.

Victor: What do you think I specially came over so late at night to do?

His voice carries with it his exhaled breath, reminiscent of a silk thread on my collarbone, causing a ticklish sensation to surface.

I have no choice but to lift myself up, cupping his cheeks in my hands.

MC: Teacher Victor, you look very good in spectacles.

[Note] AND THEN EVERYTHING FADES TO BLACK AND YOU KNOW THINGS ARE GETTING SPICY

Victor: Still amending your report?

MC: I will. I’ll amend it after you leave.

Victor: In that case, when do you want me to leave?

MC: ...

MC: I still have an entire day tomorrow.

Victor: Are you sure?

MC: ...don’t tempt me!

Victor: I’m seeking your opinion. The decision rests with you.

-

🌹 MOMENTS 🌹

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in for seven days,

MC: Fried chicken! Five star recommendation! The breaded chicken thigh paired with plum sauce was so delicious that I was on the verge of tears!

Victor: I’ll give you an opportunity. Bring your proposal over and exchange it for the secret recipe for the dipping sauce.

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Not just the dishes - the wine was also very good!

Victor: When did you secretly drink wine?

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Every meal was a buffet, so it’s difficult not to gain weight...

Victor: A greedy cat always has many excuses.

-

Phone call: here

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 2)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @pinkdiamond1016 @crissymadlock @ensign-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1

Birds tweeting, sun shining…

Big strong arms around you.

“Well, well, Wells,” you say with a scratchy morning voice and twist your body around in bed to see who’s got you in his grasp. Ah. “Good morning, Harry.”

“Good morning, (Y/L/N),” the scientist replies. You just love how strands of his hair stick up in place. Harry arguably has the best bedhead.

“You know dear, since we are married after all, don’t you think it would be more acceptable to call me by my first name?”

Harry chuckles and pulls you closer against him.

“You do raise a fair point. (Y/N).”

“That’s more like it.”

He kisses your nose. Shortly after he does, it starts to feel itchy. You feel like you’re about to sneeze. It wiggles and wiggles until—

“Achoo!”

Suddenly, Harry, who had been clad in his silky pyjamas is now- oh my.

“(Y/N), did you just sneeze my clothes away?”

You can hardly answer the Wells in your bed because you’re so enthralled by his lack of clothing under the sheets.

“Happy accident?” you offer innocently. Harry shakes his head and smiles as if to signify that you’re up to your old antics again.

“Come here, you,” he says and pulls the covers over you both.

* * * *

The scene is really quite comical.

Harry walks briskly with his long legs into work at S.T.A.R. Toys Manufacturing Inc. as you try to keep up with quick little steps and a clipboard… while H.R. trails behind you like a maniac with a tray of coffee.

“(Y/N), I believe you have some explaining to do,” Harry speaks to you over his shoulder. “Can you remind me why you’re at work with me? And why the numbskull, too?”

“Handsome numbskull!” H.R. jokingly clarifies. Harry rolls his eyes.

“I told you, honey,” you begin, “I decided it would be best for me to get a job instead of sitting around the house. Plus, an assistant here was the only position available. I thought that was terribly convenient. We can spend more time together now, isn’t that wonderful? As for H.R., I hired him as my assistant!”

“My assistant has an assistant?”

“Don’t question it, honey,” you tell him and pat him on the cheek. Just then, two young employees walk up to you. They look rather familiar, but you can’t place why at the moment.

“Good morning, Mr. Wells,” the pair greet Harry. “And Mrs. Wells. ...And Mr. Wells.”

“Ah, good morning Garcia. Runk,” Harry answers. “I trust your projects are coming along?”

“That they are, Sir,” the young man called Runk replies.

“We should have them finished and ready by end of day,” Garcia, the young woman, adds.

“I’m glad to hear it-”

“-Well done, chaps!” H.R. interrupts. “You’re all doing such magnificent work. All for the children.”

“All for the children,” Garcia and Runk agree.

Harry clears his throat and whispers to you, “I think assistants to the assistants should be seen and not heard.”

“I’ll have a little chat with him,” you tell your handsome boss husband. “Now, let’s build some toys!”

* * * *

After a long day at the factory, you, Harry, and H.R. all return home. The delicious scent of dinner greets you as you walk in the door.

“Mmm, I wonder what Sherloque and Nash are cooking up!” you think out loud.

“I hope it’s nothing French,” Harry says semi-bitterly.

“H.R., can you go see what they’re up to in there, sweetie?”

“I most certainly can, dearest!” he responds then disappears into the kitchen. You are sure to take this opportunity to have some more one-on-one time with Harry on the couch. As you sit, he sets his briefcase down on the coffee table and removes from it a small rocket ship. After turning it around in his hands, Harry hands it to you.

“I’d been working on this today,” he says.

“Oh Harry, it is so groovy. You do such fine work.”

“The idea came to me in a dream.”

“You make dreams come true for children every day.”

Harry turns to you. “I think I’ve always wanted kids. But I guess it’s never happened for me.” He looks into your eyes. “I think I’d like to have one with you someday, (Y/N). How do you feel about that?”

“I feel… I feel…” Your nose starts to wiggle again. “Achoo!”

“(Y/N), are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Oh, yes, I’m completely and totally, whoaaaa!” You stand up to get a better look at yourself, finding that your tummy has a noticeable roundness to it.

“Are you…?” Harry asks. The rest of the Wells men come rushing into the living room.

“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”

“I heard another sneeze!”

“Jumping juniper, (Y/N)’s pregnant!”

They all group around you in a half-circle to admire your belly and to declare their delight at the very abrupt surprise.

“Is this really happening?” you ask all of them, falling deeper and deeper into your happiness.

“I couldn’t imagine a better life with you,” Harry says and punctuates his final word with a kiss. Everything about this moment just seems… so much more colourful and vibrant.

And perfect.

~ ~ ~ ~

Barry had urgently messaged Cisco and Caitlin to meet him back at the Grand Central City Auditorium, where they had just seen Zatanna’s magic act. The plan—what very little of a plan he had—was to race to find Zatanna, the Mistress of Magic, and ask for her help.

Word on the street was that Miss Zatara’s act wasn’t mere illusions. People have said that she really does possess a special magical power. And if this was the case, she was their only hope to retrieve you from whatever world you’ve gotten yourself into.

They say sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.

Well, now Team Flash is going to fight magic with magic.

It took a bit of making a scene inside the venue with the security guards for Zatanna to finally come out of her dressing room to see who was causing the commotion.

“Hi, excuse me, what’s going on here?”

“Zatanna? My name is Barry Allen,” your brother introduces himself. “I was at your show tonight.”

“Flawless,” Cisco can’t help but add.

“Sure,” she says, probably very much wanting him to get to the point. “How can I help you, Barry Allen?”

“We have a bit of a magical issue. My sister has gotten herself into a situation. We need your help.”

Zatanna’s big round eyes squint slightly, but whatever she sees in these three strangers surely isn’t threatening.

“Your sister, you say?” The Mistress of Magic always did have a soft spot for family. “Where is she?”

“You better come with us and see for yourself.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“Wow, this is quite the setup,” Zatanna says, taking in the Cortex upon her arrival. “Now, you said that your sister is broadcasting her own sitcom?”

“That’s right,” Barry confirms. “I switched on the TV earlier, and there she was in black and white. But the weird thing is that her set looked almost identical to her home, except not because her real home exploded-”

“Yeah, that’s the weird bit,” Cisco pipes up sarcastically. “Definitely not that she’s married to four different versions of the same man.”

“What?” Zatanna looks entirely confused. “Okay, you guys are going to have to catch me up.”

“No problem. The episode is streaming online. On repeat.”

“Cisco, pull up the show on the monitors,” Barry orders. The engineer does so, and the crew proceeds to analyze the sitcom episode.

“This man... or these men, rather—you said they died?” Zatanna asks the room. The rundown the gang gave her on the way to S.T.A.R Labs was quite rushed, so naturally it would only generate more questions.

“That’s right. I saw them disappear before my eyes,” Barry confirms. “They sacrificed themselves for us.”

Zatanna hums in thought. “Whether they’re truly dead or not, she must be using an incredible amount of magic to create this world and broadcast this across the airwaves.”

“Guys!” Caitlin raises her voice. “We have an incoming broadcast!”

The monitors change after a bit of static. Now, instead of the episode Team Flash was watching, a brand new jingle comes through the speakers.

“Is this…?” Barry starts.

“She released Episode Two!” Cisco cheers. Everyone in the room shoots him a look. “What? I’m invested.” As they watch the new episode, they take frantic notes, searching for any kind of clues.

“Look!” Barry points at the screen to the familiar faces.

“How did Allegra and Chester get in there?” Caitlin wonders.

“They have a guest-starring role…” Cisco notes, possibly with a hint of jealousy.

“And who are they?” Zatanna inquires.

“They’re our friends,” Barry clarifies. “At least, I think they are. They can't be illusions, can they? Created by (Y/N)?”

“I’ll call them and see if we can hear their phones ringing in the show,” Caitlin suggests. As she attempts the call, the rest of the team stands and stares at the screens hoping for some form of ringing sound. This episode seemed to be styled more in the Sixties, so it was unlikely that they’d actually see Chester and Allegra pull out a cell phone.

Nothing. No sound.

They must not have their phones on them…

A little while longer passes, with even more analyses by Team Flash and Zatanna studying your power on screen. Once in a while, she’ll ask Barry for background information about you. Which brings her to ask the all important question:

“How did (Y/N) get her powers?”

Barry goes on to explain your origin story, which coincides with his own. It was that one fateful night where Barry was in his CSI lab at CCPD, and so were you. You had stopped by to see how he was doing after the whole debacle of Iris getting her laptop stolen and Eddie saving the day instead. (To Barry’s credit, he tried really hard to catch the criminal, he just wasn’t fast enough). But you were checking up on him when the Particle Accelerator exploded and sent a wave of extraordinary, uncontained power across the city. You saw the lightning in the sky and tried to get Barry away from holding that metal chain, but in doing so, you also got caught in the crosshairs of the accident. Your brother fell into the shelf of chemicals as the lightning struck at the same time you knocked over a box of evidence—stolen ancient crystals from the Central City Museum.

Zatanna takes in the story silently, nodding in the right places. She’s deep in thought when a voice comes from the entrance to the Cortex: “Hey guys, what’s going on in here?”

Barry rushes to the two younger members of Team Flash, Allegra and Chester. “How did you two get in there? How did you get out?”

“Get in where?” Allegra wonders.

“Come on! In (Y/N)’s sitcom,” Cisco says. “Did she send out a casting call or did she just tell you that you got the parts?”

Chester and Allegra glance at each other with identical furrowed brows.

“You really don’t know what happened, do you?” Caitlin asks them.

“What happened?” they reply in unison.

Cisco stands up immediately. “I’ll get the popcorn.”

As he replays the footage, both of the ‘guest stars’ shake their heads in disbelief.

“Wow, nope, don’t remember any of that,” Chester says.

“No,” Allegra agrees. “One minute I’ve got my feet up in the Lounge, and the next I’m here walking into the Cortex.”

“Interesting,” Caitlin muses. “Interesting, but beyond strange. It’s like they’ve been mind wiped of the experience. We need more answers.” The rest of the episode plays out to reveal the big cliffhanger at the end.

“(Y/N)’s going to have a baby?!” Cisco shouts. “Oh man, things just got real. I wonder who’s the father... You don’t think (Y/N) would turn her show into a Maury episode, do you?”

“Zatanna, is there anything you can do?” Barry asks desperately. “This is getting out of hand.”

“I can cast a locating spell. All I have to do is say the words of what I wish backward for it to take hold.” Zatanna readies herself. “(N/Y) etacol,” the magician utters with her eyes closed. Everyone in the room stands silent in case making any kind of noise would ruin whatever spell she has cast.

They hold their breaths.

“I’m getting something…” Zatanna says eventually. “It’s like a signal of sorts. I can see it in my mind. And it’s coming from… here.”

“What do you mean, ‘here’?” Barry presses.

“Here. As in S.T.A.R. Labs.”

[love-fireflysong]

yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but  it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself  for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself  back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

[bat-besties]

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Remus is the most eccentric customer who visits Janus and Virgil's café. When he goes missing after talking to a mysterious stranger, Janus resolves to investigate further- and Virgil isn't letting him go alone.

AO3 10k 

Huge thanks to @mariniacipher, I could not have written this without her. She let me talk about the idea for hours, it has somehow developed into a series, and the story itself took a real twist because of talking to her! Another massive thank you to @5-crofters-jams, who did a marathon edit of the entire piece for me, and has made the story so much smoother and more effective (and much less British because my original dialogue did upset her American sensibilities XD) Also thanks to @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, who knew everything I needed about pigeon corpses!

CW: dead bird, touching the bird corpse, bird funeral, Remus levels of comments about gore and innuendo, drug mention, mention of vomiting, kidnapping and captivity, feeling nauseous from anxiety, light dehumanization, brief allusion to racist violence

- 

Remus was...

(There was usually a little gesture there: Virgil’s rolled eyes, or Janus’ helplessly fond smile, or a disapproving look from Remy-)

....Remus.

Their anarchist cafe saw its fair share of unusual customers but only one of them was, well, Remus.

Morning sunlight threw beams which striped the posters covering the walls- old propaganda posters mixed with ads for tutors, food banks, and drag shows. There was a quiet chatter of customers, occasionally broken up by bursts of laughter or a called greeting to another patron as they came in. Kids from the skatepark sat on a pile of beanbags charging their phones, having given up the comfortable chairs for a small group of elderly butches with stretched tattoos who were now speaking with slang from fifty years ago. A mother whose baby was trying to grab onto her braids was trying to feed him with one hand and hold her husband’s with the other. A college student frowning at their laptop screen and consuming coffee at an alarming rate was seemingly oblivious to the punk trying to discreetly read their laptop stickers. One of a Pan-African flag matched the full-sized one on the wall, swaying with wafts of coffee and baked goods along with spider plants and assorted pride flags. Old photos of a Black Panther group in the town, reprinted and signed by some of their patrons, were framed proudly on the walls.

Since everyone had been served, Virgil was taking a few breaths to check over the register and prepare for the next rush. The rhythm of checking, preparing, and letting the background chatter fade into the background blended into a pleasant, thoughtless routine. Cups out. Setting out more sandwiches. Look over the register. Maybe get something from the back-

“Morning, shitwad!”

Virgil ducked under the counter as something thumped into the coffee machine behind him, and a few of the regulars laughed in good nature.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” Janus replied smoothly, appearing from the kitchen. He was wearing a yellow shirt which contrasted with his deep brown skin perfectly, as well as a bowler hat and dapper bow-tie. He pulled plastic gloves over his hands with all the elegance of a debutante preparing for a ball.

There was a shrill wolf whistle. “Those are some sexy wrists!” was the next comment, followed by a squawking laugh, and Virgil rolled his eyes as his friend brought a flustered hand up to adjust his collar. Every day, he faced the deep attraction between the most sophisticated person he knew and the most outlandish, and he didn’t know which was more obnoxious. As Virgil popped back up, Janus reached over to the projectile on the back counter. It was the small, feathery body of a dead pigeon, carefully wrapped in cling wrap.

Virgil gave Janus a long-suffering look and got out a bottle of disinfectant. “Morning, Remus,” he grumbled, despite his irritation. “What can I get for you today?”

“My friend died at 3am last night,” he replied instead. “I need to store her in your fridge until you both get off work, and then we’ll hold her funeral!”

When they were alive, Remus treated the pigeons as gently as they did each other-

That is to say, he was ruthlessly protective of chicks, ready to grab and move anyone encroaching on territory, and, if pecked, was fully ready to bite back. Still, at his two-tone whistle a whole flock of assorted birds would fly down to meet him. His eyes would shine bright as they flew around him like a feathered whirlwind, and settled on the surfaces all around him like a hopeful congregation as he fed them with whatever he had. Despite their number, almost all had names and ascribed personalities.

Exactly how he could tell the difference between two seemingly identical pigeons Virgil had no idea, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Remus wasn’t fucking with him about it.

“Why did you throw her if you’re trying to preserve her?” Virgil said, but he tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. In fairness, it didn’t look too damaged by the blow. It would take a lot to change the kindness Remus showed the doves, as roughly as he showed it.

“I thought you’d catch her, emo! It would have been a beautiful moment!” he protested, throwing his grey eyes open wide.

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. “You know what? Yeah, maybe it would have been. But you forget-”

“Fight or flight,” Remus filled in. He shrugged. “I guess that makes sense.”

As usual, he was dressed in as many layers as he could be, with only a hint of pale skin showing on his face and through a pair of fingerless gloves he had cut himself. Everything else was an amalgamation of black and brown leather, denim, flannel, a puffy coat, a long flowing skirt in leopard-print, and fishnet tops over cotton T-shirts, leaving barely any Remus-outline at all. It didn’t matter what the weather was; his outfit might change components, but it never revealed so much as his neck.

Everyone had their reasons, Janus would quietly say at almost anything their customers said or did. It wouldn’t have crossed their minds to ask why he covered himself so much, but it was something Virgil couldn’t help but wonder about sometimes.

Maybe Janus was right and Remus was handsome, but his face was so obscured by his moustache, stubble, and makeup in purple and green- or whichever colours he felt like- that he seemed to be aiming for ‘gives you a headache after you look at him too long’ more than anything else.

His hair was almost literally a bird’s nest. He had completely rejected offers of a hairbrush or a comb, insisting he preferred it the way it was. The third co-owner of the cafe, Remy, with whom he was staying at the moment, had made many attempts to detangle his hair, all of which had been met with screaming and gnashing of teeth. After each clash, Remy would send Virgil a barrage of complaints by text. But while Janus had offered for Remus to stay at his own apartment, Virgil and Remy had made a mutual decision to save them from 24/7 pining by volunteering instead. Janus had refused even considering dating him the very first day he had barged his way into the cafe- and into its founder’s affection. As long as Remus came to them for food and shelter, it would be an unfair balance of power.

Remus reached into an inner pocket of his coat and slid a purple pin with a spider silhouette on it over to Virgil. “You could stab this into those big brown eyes of yours,” he said, widening his own at the barista.

“Sweet, thanks,” Virgil said, pinning it onto his apron string. It did match with his spider-web hair design. “Then I won’t have to look at Janus getting flustered any more.”

Remus grinned at Janus, who was trying to act as if he’d been so invested in carefully holding the pigeon that he hadn’t heard. He leaned on the counter and dropped his voice into a stage-whisper. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I think he’s sexy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Virgil whispered back. “I’m going to throw up in your coffee.”

He shrugged. “I’d still drink it. Then I’d just be able to judge you based on your stomach bile.”

“You’d be so fucking impressed by my stomach bile,” Virgil retorted. “It’s so acidic from anxiety it would kill you immediately.” He turned to start wiping down anywhere the pigeon had even possibly touched.

“Bartender!” Remus yelled in an exaggerated English accent, banging on the counter. “Bartender! I would like a coffee and a sandwich, please!”

“One moment, my dear,” Janus said in a more passable impression, opening up the freezer door and placing the tiny corpse into an empty ice-cream container well away from the rest of the food. “I’m just cryopreserving- what’s her name?”

"Her name is Loki,” Remus supplied, his voice dropping to a matter-of-fact tone which was surprisingly tender coming from him. “She's good at stealing chips from tourists. And flying and shitting at the same time.”

Janus threw away his gloves, thoroughly washed his hands, then made a small note: "Loki: not for consumption." He glanced up at Remus so he could see the note, who repaid him by throwing his head back so he could laugh. Janus' mouth quirked into a snicker too, and the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fall away from the two looking at each other.

"We're going to get a violation," Virgil interrupted, because that was the expression of a Janus who would complain and pretend not to pine for hours after Remus left. He turned on the coffee machine to hopefully distract from the moment. "It's a dead fucking animal."

"So is the rest of the meat," Janus dismissed without looking at him. "And it is wrapped up and away from the rest of the food."

Ever since Virgil had joined the team and the cafe had begun to establish itself as a firm success, the city council had done everything in its power to shut it down. Each time, the cafe had won, even if their most recent fight was one of the most nerve-racking experiences of his life, and their personal lives had been dragged through the dusty carpet of every courtroom in the city. Each step of the way, Janus insisted that the risk was worth it.

After all that, Virgil was not letting the cafe close on account of a dead bird, as skilled a thief as she might have been.

"It’s a pest animal you let in here," he insisted.

Janus dismissed him with a shrug. "Come now, so is Remus."

The customer grinned. "You flatter me, rattlesnake." His eyes traced Janus' face as they scrunched up with joy. "Can you tell me about Dodgy Knees again?"

He closed his eyes as if pained. "Diogenes! Diogenes! I'll break your knees if you mispronounce-"

"Kinky!"

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Oh, is that so?”

So Virgil tried to ignore the disaster scenario of the cafe being shut for good, fixed a cup of coffee and a sandwich for Remus, and somehow got caught into a conversation about the pros and cons of leaving society to go feral in the woods.

“No, I do agree, but wolves-”

The door rattled, and an older white man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pinstripe suit walked in. He wasn’t entirely out of place amongst the clientele, but he honestly looked more like the businessmen in some of the cartoons Janus had papered one wall with. Remus ignored the bell as he leant his elbows on the counter, gesturing with his sandwich as he talked to Virgil while the barista came up to the register.

“How can I help you today?” Virgil asked the man, who was glancing around the decor. That type of customer was almost certainly drawn by the coffee, all blends hand-picked by Remy.

“I’ll be in and out in just a moment,” he replied with a small smile, and Remus stopped talking. “An espresso to go, please.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure, a moment-”

A blush crept up Remus’ cheeks, and he ducked his head with uncharacteristic shyness. As the man caught his eyes his entire expression softened, the hard lines of his face seeming to melt as his lips parted slightly, like he would say something. But, for once, he was speechless.

Janus looked as though he had been slapped in the face. “Are you acquainted?” he asked, in such a casual tone that Virgil knew he was deeply hurt. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“I- yes, I believe we are,” the customer gave a genial smile in return, his eyes fixed on Remus’. “Some time ago.”

Janus’ eyes narrowed. “Where do you know him from, Remus?”

There was a crinkle of plastic and leather as Remus shrugged. “Long story,” he said distantly.

Virgil slid a cup of coffee over to the man, who tapped a black card to the card reader and gave him a quick smile. “Keep the change,” he quipped. It was a tip some ten times greater than their recommended 20%.

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled, but his focus was on his friend, who was drifting out of the door, as he tended to do at the end of a conversation. “Hey, Remus, we’ll see you later?” he called after him.

“Sure, Virgey!” he replied, giving him a quick grin before he held the door for the businessman, and the two of them walked out together. The older man ducked his head to whisper something into his ear, and Remus laughed and linked their arms as they headed into the street.

As soon as the door swung shut, a cloud settled over Janus’ expression. “Well,” he said, adjusting a sandwich which was just slightly out of line with the rest. “They say a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet. It takes all sorts. To each, indeed, their-”

Before he could utter another saying, Virgil interrupted with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” Janus asked caustically. “Remus was acting unusually, yes?”

“Sometimes people get nervous,” he ventured. “If they like someone-” There wasn’t a single trait Remus said wasn’t his type; a silver fox with money was as good as any.

“Don’t say ‘like’, it’s so middle school,” he snapped, and Virgil flinched at the tone in his voice. He grabbed a cloth and headed over to a table which some regulars he knew were just vacating to wipe it down. Poor Loki’s funeral was going to be a tense event.

Except, as night fell and the cafe began to glow with the golden lights and the warmth of the ovens, and as Remy arrived to help them with the evening rush, Remus didn’t show up for the body in their freezer.

The brief liveliness Janus had shown bustling between the kitchen and the front faded as the final family trickled out. He waved away most of their offered money, seeing as it was a birthday party and he knew them, and Remy and Virgil made meaningful eye contact but didn’t protest.

As they closed, Remy filled the awkward silence with chatter about the men he was dating, the new hair product he had tried, the fact Remus never washed up when he was told to, and he was, like, so sick of it-

But no Remus appeared to defend himself, even after they left half-an-hour late and each one tried to call him.

He didn’t appear at Remy’s to sleep overnight, and he didn’t come into the cafe at all the next day.

That next night, Janus disappeared into the back, leaving Virgil to clean up by himself.

His stomach was upset, and he couldn’t help but think about that man over and over.

Long story- what exactly did “long story” mean?

Remy used the phrase when it really was a complicated story full of exes and rumours and friends of friends-

Virgil used it when he was asked why he didn’t speak to his family any more.

But he’d never seen Remus look like that before, and the guy had seemed nice- and there was an obvious suggestion for why his friend was busy overnight.

He realised he’d been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly behind him.

“Yeah?” he turned, and his brow immediately furrowed at his friend’s sombre expression.

He had his phone in one hand, and his hat in his other. “I’m going to ask you for a favour,” he said slowly. “You are quite free to decline it.” He paused. “I want to go to the house of the man who Remus went out with, and check that he’s alright.”

“I...don’t know that’s a good idea,” he said, twisting the spider badge on his apron so he could avoid the weight of his friend’s expression. “I mean...it could be an invasion of Remus’ privacy, if that was an old friend or-” Scared of causing further upset, he tilted his head to fill in ‘something else’.

“Yes, I know.” He sighed, looking out into the night through their plate-glass windows. “You know I’m not one for hunches-”

“Eh, you turned out a guy for being an undercover cop in like two seconds because he asked about ‘The Antifa’-”

Janus gave him a look with almost the level of exasperated fondness Remus engendered, and Virgil fell silent.

“I’m not one for hunches, but I’m usually right when I have them, then,” he finished lightly. “I have a very bad feeling, and a Google Search for anyone in the town who could possibly have a black card doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Anxiety coagulated in his stomach, but he tried for his final hope. “Are you sure it’s not...jealousy?”

He gave him a long, tired look. “The thought has never even been a worry of mine,” he said drily. “Still, I can go by myself, and make my own self a bother, worse, a fool.”

And it wasn’t really a question at all whether Virgil would let that happen. “Two of us is just a bother,” he replied with a confidence he didn’t feel, unclipping his badge from his apron and slipping it into his hoodie pocket.

Janus hung up his hat and put on a neat suit jacket over his outfit. “Thank you, really-”

He shook his head, opening the door so that a rush of petrichor and tarmac washed out the pervasive smell of coffee and food from the cafe. “Let’s go.”

They walked out into the night, still damp from the earlier rains. The lights of the shops around them reflected against the wet tarmac, and music pumped out of passing cars giddy with the promise of the coming weekend. They headed to the bus stop, Janus politely greeting every person they passed, and Virgil ducking his head so he didn’t have to. He didn’t know if the people who replied were familiar to his friend from the neighbourhood, or just trying to be polite in turn.

As soon as the bus stopped with a hiss of steam, Janus led him down to the back, and sat by the window, checking the map on his phone again. “It will be some time,” he said. “But, I ask you to be patient.”

“Course.” Virgil rested his head on Janus’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “Just tell me the stop before and I’ll be...right with you.” Moving vehicles lulled him to sleep anyway, and he would just worry the whole way otherwise.

“Of course.” Janus wrapped an arm around him, so he wasn’t jolted as the bus started again.

As Virgil dozed in fits and starts, the window changed from views of convenience stores and fast food shops to blocks of apartments, to anonymous offices and retail outlets, to high-walled parks, and then houses set back from the road by sweeping drive-ways or pavements almost as wide as the road was. Finally, his head was jostled off Janus’ shoulders, and he blinked as the stop dinged, too loud after the fog of sleep. Outside, it was pitch black but for the pools of light beneath the streetlights, and the golden glow which the mansions kept far behind barred gates.

They stumbled off the bus, and Janus checked his phone just once more before they headed off down one of the identical sides of the road.

Virgil pulled his hoodie close around him against the night chill. He considered putting his hood on to protect his ears from the nipping wind, but they were already two black men alone in a very white neighbourhood. It wasn’t worth it when his stomach was already rolling with anxiety. He rubbed his thumb over the badge in his pocket and tried to breathe the cold air in 4-7-8. They walked over empty roads, past rows and rows of similar houses, until they turned a corner and cars lined the road, piling into a single driveway which was illuminated like a Christmas lights display. A few fancily-dressed guests stood by the cars, but most of the noise came from inside. The house towered even its neighbours, and was built in the faux-Classical style which he hated.

Janus checked the address against his phone, then nodded. “That’s it. What did you call those, again? False temples?”

“Temples to dumb rich Americans and bad architecture,” Virgil supplied with a quirk of his lips.

“Quite right,” he replied, assessing the entrance. “And in all likelihood, Remus is stuck inside with his…”

“Yup.” He looked between his own patchwork hoodie and Janus’ dapper suit. “Maybe you could sneak in, but I definitely wouldn’t fit in.”

He straightened, and adjusted his bowtie. “Then we’ll go around the back,” he replied.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope, nope, nope, that’s- Jesus Christ, no, that’s a great way to get arrested or even shot. No.”

“Virgil,” Janus said quietly. “These past two months, Remus has visited us every day except that brief time after the fight over the milk cartons, or whatever it was-”

“I asked him to clean up a drop of milk and he poured the rest of the carton over my kitchen,” he said sourly, which he felt he was entitled to despite the situation.

“Yes, yes,” Janus dismissed. “Anyway- he always comes, doesn’t he? So now-”

“I have a really, really bad feeling- and bad thought, and bad everything-” he protested, backing away from the gate.

An orange sports car swerved past them, and parked horizontally across the driveway, and a young white man in a tracksuit the same colour as his car leapt out and gave them a wide grin. “Hey! Hey! Hello!” he yelled, and flashed them peace signs, to which Janus replied with a pained smile and Virgil a small wave. “Everything’s started- have they done the fireworks yet? Or the, shit, thing with the melted chocolate and it flows-”

“Chocolate fountain,” Janus supplied with the smile he reserved for his more aggravating customers. He slipped his arm into Virgil’s and pulled them forwards. “We were hoping to arrive for that too, ah-?” He waited for the man to supply his name, but instead-

“I like your hair!” he said to Virgil, admiring the spider web design. “Rad!”

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied, subtly trying to pull them backwards as Janus marched him to the door after the guest. “Your car is...yeah, that sure is a car.”

“Sure is!” he replied with a blindingly white smile. He flashed something at a bodyguard at the door- who had sunglasses, earpiece, everything- Virgil noted with a sickening thrill of fear.

“And your friends, sir?” the bodyguard asked.

“Yeah, yeah!” The guest tossed his car keys at his chest and headed through to a foyer filled with well-cut suits and low-cut dresses, champagne glasses and trays of canapes. Marble floors reflected the lighting, which glinted out from chandeliers above. A wide staircase glided up to the hidden upper floors.

“Oh, hey! Hey, you!” the young man yelled as soon as he got in, bounding over towards a woman who greeted him with a grin, raising her glass like a toast.

Janus and Virgil just blinked at each other. “Are you...sure?” Virgil asked quietly. “Remus is here?”

“I’m honestly not so sure any more,” Janus muttered to him. “But let’s not rely on whatever chemicals are keeping our dear friend happy, and start looking around.”

They moved through a throng of people and out into a wide ballroom, filled with yet more guests and a live string quartet playing in one corner. Along with the music was the trilling of occasional birdsong from tropical birds fluttering inside several oversized golden cages dotted around the room. A few others held white marble statues, but they couldn’t compare to the shifting flurries of reds, blues, and greens. Without agreeing on it aloud, the friends first went over to a small party congregated by one of them, in case the birds had attracted Remus.

“No, but then I said-” A balding man was proclaiming. “I said, Rudy, that’s not the Dow Jones Industrial Average at all.”

The group burst into laughter, Virgil gave Janus a bemused look, and they moved on.

Everyone was well-dressed, in sparkling necklaces or ties in jewel colours or even in more casual clothes, like the man from the sports car, which still seemed to drip wealth. Wearing sneakers with a suit wasn’t that fancy a look, but when even Virgil recognised that pair from an ad campaign for a luxury fashion line which would come out next month, he guessed it didn’t matter. Nobody looked at them twice. Still, there was nobody dressed in the contents of an entire rummage-sale bin with purple eyeshadow used as contour.

“There-” Janus whispered- “Is that?”

They both froze as they watched a man with a moustache waltz past in the arms of a lady dressed in black. It wasn’t Remus.

Virgil scanned the room again, eyes passing over the gilded cages, and the tropical birds and statues inside them- nobody in the crowd admiring them was any business of his-

As they parted, the figure inside the tallest gold cage became clear. It shifted position- an animatronic? He looked more closely as it moved after everyone had turned away, fiddling with golden chains around its-

“Oh God-” he whispered. “Look.”

Virgil was an avowed atheist, but if the person inside the cage wasn’t a statue, he must have been an angel. His shining hair was cut short to show of the clean marble lines of his face. His chest was sculpted too, covered in scars which looked like they must have come from a golden sword like the one he was gripping. He looked as if he would swing it into position if not for the gold chains wrapped around his arms, tethering him to the delicate bars of the cage. He was gazing out into the distance.

Most striking of all, dove-grey wings crested over his shoulders and trailed all the way down to his ankles. His white tunic contrasted the hints of pale purple, pink and blue shimmering in his wings.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Virgil had ever seen.

He glanced at Janus for his reaction.

He found only an expression of absolute horror. Janus was completely silent for a moment, struggling for words, before he gasped. "Oh, Remus- what did they do to you?”

A cold feeling washed over him.

No- those were their friend's grey eyes, and that was the shape of his face, stripped of his facial hair and usual tacky makeup. No wonder Virgil hadn't recognised him.

Compared to the usual chaotic spark in his expression, he looked blank. As if his mind was somewhere else entirely- or like he'd been drugged.

Still, Virgil couldn’t help but be drawn back to his wings; they were hyper-realistic, even twitching as he tried to tense his shoulders to alleviate the pressure of the chains on his arms. And the amount of feathers it would have taken to make that shifting, downy gradient...not even all of Remus’ flock had that many. It was compelling, but sickening.

It felt wrong to look over his arms and legs when he was usually so adamant about covering them, so he dropped his eyes and tried to erase the knowledge of how muscled Remus was beneath his usual shapeless outfit.

It wasn’t that Virgil found his friend attractive exactly, but with wings like that, dressed like that- he was a centerpiece, clearly, and even as his stomach churned with the wrongness of the display, it was a palpable effort to keep his gaze from snapping back to him. “I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered to Janus.

“He’d never, ever choose to dress himself like that in front of everyone," Janus whispered, anger crackling red at the edges of his quiet voice. "And even if he did, he’d never shave off his moustache.”

He shook his head. “So...what do we do?”

In response, Janus sauntered over to the left, took a champagne flute from a waiter, and then gestured for his friend to follow. They zigzagged through the crowd until they got closer to Remus, whose eyes remained glazed and distant.

They stopped just by him. Up close, it was clear the tunic was some kind of cotton material, and the sword had blunted edges. He was wearing makeup too, and a lump in his mascara made Virgil feel another sharp pang of pity. As ridiculous as painting them on would have been, how real the scars looked in comparison to the rest of the outfit was jarring. He was built and scarred like a fighter, and all the little touches to make him look delicate only emphasised how roughened he was. Both were at odds with everything he knew of his friend.

“Remus,” Janus whispered. The name fell like a plea. “Remus, it’s us.”

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes snapped to them, his expression melting into disbelief. “Remus?” he echoed. It was as quiet as a whisper from a crypt. “You know him?”

“You’re-” Janus’ face fell. “Remus, that’s you-”

The man almost imperceptibly shook his head. “Twins, we’re twins- you know him? Please, is he okay?” He looked almost identical, though up close the differences began to stand out. He was probably more muscular, but who could tell under all of Remus’ clothes? The main differences were a gap between this twin’s front teeth and, more than that, his eyes. Even as he looked at them desperately, there was something missing from them, some jolt of hope or excitement which just wasn’t there. Their heaviness was an uncomfortable weight on Virgil’s face.

He wrapped an arm around himself. “Sorry, he went missing-”

“But we tracked the man he left with back here,” Janus filled in. “Isn’t he here too?”

The man shook his head again. “No, I- I’ll earn more information, after this. I don’t know anything,” he whispered. “I just know he found him, and he wants him to come back without a fight.”

Virgil never should have just watched as that man walked Remus out of the coffee shop. Long story his ass- “What the fuck is happening?”

Remus’ twin tried to shrug and then winced as the movement tugged on the chains. His wings fluttered with the movement. “They just tranqued us the first time. I don’t know why he’s delaying recapture-” He took a deep breath. “Just tell him to run away as soon as he can.” His grey eyes hardened to steel. “He might as well keep doing it.”

“I will if I can find him, thank you.” Janus took a small sip of his champagne. “What exactly was the capture for, if I can ask?”

The captive glanced around the room, and at the movement Virgil cut his eyes to the side. Nobody watched that he could see. “The wings, of course,” he said with a bitter smile. “Yes, yes, they’re real, go ahead and look at them.”

Janus’ eyes widened, subtly taking in the wings.

“My name’s Roman,” he continued in a low, urgent voice. “Tell him that Roman said to run, okay? Don’t listen to any of their offers or threats. I’m not a gladiator anymore; I’m here instead. It’s...not too bad.”

As Janus opened his mouth, Roman shook his head. “Don’t talk to me too long.”

“We can get you out,” Virgil said before he knew what he was thinking. “Whatever this is-”

“Go,” Roman insisted. “It’s not worth trying to do anything for me. And don’t call the police-”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You really don’t need to worry about that.”

“Fine.” he lifted his eyes to the middle distance again. “You should go now. Please.”

Virgil gave a little nod, taking Janus’ arm. “Okay. We’re gonna go.”

“Thank you,” Janus added. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then let Virgil lead him away.

He steered them back through the ballroom with their backs to Roman, trying not to glare into the eyes of each of the guests they passed. It would almost have been easier if there was a big fuss and show about the captive man, rather than the chatting and dancing and gossiping with, oh, a living being as a conversational curiosity-

As they came back into the entrance, Janus began to turn towards the sweeping staircase.

“No,” Virgil said under his breath, trying to tug him back to the doorway. “No fucking way. I know you’re angry but-”

“I’m not angry,” he replied coolly. “I am, rather, curious. Because I don't think they tell everything to Roman, and we’re not going to get luck like this again. Any information will help.”

He glanced up at where the staircase twisted out of sight. If Remus was up there, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. And, despite his words, Janus was throw-ignorant-customers-out-of-the-cafe mad. Except, he wasn’t quoting memoirs of increasingly obscure activists or putting neat yellow gloves on in warning, so Virgil didn’t know what he would do.

On cue, Janus reached into his breast pocket and drew out the gloves. He slipped one on, tugging it into place. “Better for fingerprints, and more neat.” He glanced at Virgil. “You don’t have to come with me, in fact it may be better if you didn’t.”

It wasn’t fair for Janus to pull on his ridiculous gloves like a boxer about to face a much bigger opponent, and ask him not to fight by his side. Even if Virgil had decided to leave the party, it wouldn’t have been fair.

“I will,” he said, tucking his hands into hoodie paws. His heart was thumping against his ribcage as if it would break out- that was a thought to tell Remus when they saw him. “I’m gonna complain about it afterwards.”

Despite his apparent composure, it took Janus a moment too long to answer as his eyes traced Virgil’s face. “Of course.” He took his arm. “Shall we?”

He was half-expecting an alarm to blare as soon as they set foot on the first stair- but nobody noticed. They took another few steps, feet sinking into the thick red runner. The back of his neck prickled with stares, but he knew from long experience that those were imagined. Or were they? No, that was anxiety. Janus’ hand tightened on his forearm and he stopped. Above, someone paced past on a wooden floor in the measured rhythm of a guard. He gagged.

“Deep breaths,” Janus murmured.

“I hate this,” he replied. Then he forced a breath in his nose and out of his mouth.

After the footsteps faded, they kept walking until Virgil moved his heavy boot onto the polished wood floor as gently as possible. Identical two-panel white doors stretched along the hallway without any noticeable distinction, until the corridor took a right turn at the end of the row.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right,” Virgil whispered, and Janus nodded.

With their footsteps echoing almost too loud on the floor, they each crept to the far ends of the hallway. There was nothing beyond the corner except another staircase, and thankfully no more doors.

He tried the door handle on the far right with his sleeve over his hand, and it turned. He nudged it open and peeked in to see a huge bedroom strewn with suitcases and clothes, and a sparkling necklace of diamonds carelessly draped over a black dress. But no Remus. He shut it and moved onto the next.

Locked. The next was too. His hands were shaking like there was a motor in them.

He closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall, trying to ground himself in the sensation. Okay. Next one- unlocked.

It was a bathroom, all white marble and gold like downstairs. He closed the door and glanced over to Janus, who shook his head.

He glanced at the staircase before crossing the corridor and turning the handle of the middle door slightly.

A voice rose behind the door, deeper and smoother than Remus’. “Hello?”

Virgil reached in desperation for the next door handle as footsteps sounded from inside, and tugged it open in time for Janus to walk in quickly and efficiently in the rhythm of the security guard. He followed with a few strides, shutting the door behind him in with a fumbled click. The room was an empty guest bedroom. Janus was hiding himself under the bed before Virgil caught his arm and pulled him out. He headed to the big sliding window.

“Please, please-” he whispered to himself, trying to lift it. Locked, locked, oh God-

Janus searched the mantelpiece for a moment before pressing a cold key into Virgil’s hand. He tried to put it in but his hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t-

Janus took it off him. It fit with a click.

Virgil pushed up the window in a rush of cool air. He climbed out onto the little ornamental balcony running between a few windows and stood flat to the wall, chest heaving, before Janus followed with a tumble. He reached over and shut the window while Janus crouched down below the sill. The room was still empty.

Virgil slid down the wall, trembling hands over his mouth. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he was sure he would be sick-

Janus had curled into a ball, forehead to the stone of the balcony.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that.

After a while, they ended up both sitting side by side in the space between the two windows, hands twisted together. It was silent.

Virgil glanced back into the room. “It’s empty,” he whispered. “We should leave.”

Janus nodded. “One moment-” He crept towards the other window and peeked in the bottom before he dropped to the ground, hand over his mouth.

Virgil widened his eyes. On cue, his heart finished its brief rest.

Janus pointed to his suit jacket, then made a rectangle shape with his fingers. Virgil frowned. His friend repeated the gesture, and it clicked. Black card.

He so, so badly wanted to run now, but instead he crawled over to poke Janus in the side so he would move over to give him space by the window. Their eyes met, and Virgil pulled his hood over his cold ears to settle in for a wait. He kept his head down, pillowed on his forearms, while Janus risked peeking up every few minutes.

Suddenly, Janus grabbed his arm. Virgil lifted his head. He could just about see Roman standing in the doorway, rubbing at the deep red marks around his forearms, and the captor leaning back in a leather armchair holding a glass.

Janus put his hands up to the window-

“Janus,” Virgil hissed, but then the window slid a crack upwards and voices travelled through.

“Quite the party, wasn’t it?” the captor said, pouring himself a drink.

Roman nodded too quickly. “Yeah,” he said in a hoarse voice, attempting a smile which didn’t reach his eyes, which were fixed on a closed silver laptop on a side table. “Yes, it was...very grand!”

He rolled his eyes. “What did you think of the decor?”

“Quite magnificent! Like a- an aviary in a palace.” His wings were trembling as though there were a breeze running through them.

Tilting his head and looking Roman up and down, the captor spoke just as genially as he had in the cafe. “You really aren’t as interesting as your brother was. Too many blows to the head, no doubt.”

Roman’s mouth tightened. His fists had too.

Against the deep, comfortable, red-brown tones of leather and what must have been genuine mahogany, and the backs of books all bound neatly and sticking out of the shelf as though frequently read, Roman’s outfit stood out as even more fake. Gold accents in the sandals he was wearing matched the subtle gold trimmings of the room, but if the study were a convincing stage, Roman looked like a badly cast understudy.

The captor laughed. “Predictable. This isn’t the fighting pits.”

Virgil and Janus shared a look before watching again.

“Your brother’s been living like a tramp and he’s still more beautiful than you are, under all the mess,” he commented, as casually as if he was observing the weather. Roman’s eyebrows drew together, watching for the end of the statement. He brought up a hand to cover a scar along the edge of his neck. “He’s not as scraped up as you, of course. And he really-” He swirled his whiskey for a moment before taking a sip of it. “He really is genuine. You can imagine worse things than this, can’t you?”

He paused, then nodded.

He shrugged. “He can’t. That’s the difference.”

Janus grabbed Virgil’s hand. He curled over and pressed it to his own forehead. Virgil rested his hand on his back and bent to whisper in his ear. “Hey, only I need to listen, so-”

He shook his head and Virgil cut off, peeking back over the windowsill.

For just a moment Roman glanced at the window before he asked, “So, where is Remus anyways?” He seemed to freeze as he waited for the answer, a statue once again.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He held his hand out and Roman looked at him blankly. “The laptop,” he snapped.

“Oh!” He grabbed it from the side table and tried to hand it over from a distance.

He took it and flipped it open. Roman stepped back immediately, hopping from one foot to the other like a boxer. Virgil felt himself tapping on Janus’ back in sympathy.

The captor flipped the screen open and typed for a moment before he began to read something. Virgil felt Janus’ chest go still.

The captor laughed. “Oh, would you look at that- “Queer Eye’s Karamo Brown urged to cut ties with Salvation Army”.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing worse than a hypocrite- did you know about this?”

Remus’ brother’s jaw tensed and he shook his head.

He carried on reading for a little while, tutting, and then switching to another tab. “Okay, fine- come and look.”

He crossed the room to stand behind the man, hands gripping onto the back of the sofa as if he would fall over without its support.

“Don’t touch the furniture.” With a roll of his eyes, he reached his hand behind him, twisted his hand into his captive’s wing- then tugged. As he pulled a handful of feathers away Virgil winced, but Roman only reacted with a tightening of his hands. Then he took a measured step back from the couch.

“You know,” the captor said so softly that Virgil had to strain to hear him. “You know, Remus would have cried and cried at that.” He scattered the feathers, spotted with blood, over the floor. “That, or started swearing- and the crying would come after that.”

“You’ve told me before,” Roman snapped. As soon as he spoke, he froze again. “Oh, uh- I’m sorry-”

The laptop clicked shut. “I asked you to behave this evening,” the captor said, getting up and tucking it under his arm. Virgil and Janus crouched down further. For some reason, a tiny chip in the stone paving caught Virgil’s eyes. A tiny fissure ran from it into the rest of the solid slab. “That meant all of this evening.”

“Please-” His voice broke, and pitched high it sounded like Remus’. Janus’ hand tightened on Virgil’s until it hurt.

“Out.”

Virgil tugged on Janus’ hand and bent his head to his ear. “C’mon, we need to go.”

Janus looked up. His eyes were shining, and at the same time Virgil felt like a monster for not crying and a sharp annoyance that his friend had given into his emotions. He took a deep breath, and both feelings passed. He tugged on his hand again. “Okay, time to go,” he whispered.

He decided not to risk closing the window while the man was still in the room, just nudging Janus to the side. They crept across the balcony, slid up the far window, and climbed through one after the other, painfully slow.

They padded through the empty room, then opened the door and slipped out together. Downstairs, the last of the party guests were trailing out, either upright with exhaustion shining in their eyes to match the sparkle of their jewels, or with the help of a few discreet employees supporting champagne-soggy legs. Wordlessly, Janus slung his arm over Virgil’s shoulder, and he let his friend lean on him as they passed security and walked down the long drive to the dark street. He was heavy, but Virgil was careful not to stumble.

They carried on walking that way until the corner, when Janus straightened up and adjusted his jacket. Still, they crossed the road side-by-side and didn’t speak.

As they walked, the bottom of the sky was being washed out into greyness. The houses were unlit now, and they looked smaller in the dark. It just barely smelt of metallic dew. Virgil thought he might start screaming if he opened his mouth.

They reached the bus station sooner than expected. There was half-an-hour before the first early-morning bus. With a huff of air, he sat down on the pavement and leaned his back against the pole.

“Well that was just what we expected, wasn’t it?” Janus said lightly. He stayed standing, facing the mansion they had come from. Virgil looked up at him in silence. “I’m going to murder that man,” he continued in the same tone. “The security for that house is shocking. I’m sure it isn’t that hard. Perhaps I should let the twins do it, though.”

He nodded. “I’ll help bury the body.”

“You know, Virgil,” Janus met his eyes. “You really are the best friend anyone could ask for.”

"What?" he mumbled as he looked down. "He was a dick."

"Come now, you also broke into the house of someone connected to illegal fighting rings whose interior decoration tended to the alive and miserable.”

Heat flooded into his face. “Least I can do.”

“Quite a bit more than the least.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Especially for someone who was terrified of talking to customers a year ago.”

"Oh, shut up." He poked Janus' neat brogue with his boot. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes here figured out the whole thing anyway." His chest felt funny, and he hugged his arms around it.

"Well, Watson," He took a deep breath and decided to stop tormenting Virgil with his tenderness. "I have our final deduction- the man had no clue where Remus is."

"Really?"

Janus shook his head. “He was just looking for an excuse for Roman to slip up the whole time. Taunting him, the furniture, physically hurting him- it was all trying to push him to some tiny ‘infraction’ so he could bluff about the information.”

“Huh.” He replayed the events and nodded slowly. “Sure, I can see that. Still, we don’t know if he’s always like that. He didn’t deny the information when Roman touched the furniture- which is a fucked up rule, Jan- I don’t know if him not saying where Remus is was an excuse at all. He said Remus was better than his brother, and he gets pissed when you suggest cutting those clumps out of his hair. He must have been-” He regretted saying it to Janus, but it was deduction time. “He must have been really- cruel to him for Remus to act anything like Roman. He enjoys being cruel, clearly.”

“You’re right.” He twisted the finger of his glove. “Still, surely telling Roman about how scared Remus was would upset him. And he didn’t, so something doesn’t add up.”

Well, his intuition hadn’t lied before. “So what do we do?”

“We find Remus first.” He straightened his shoulders. “Remy would have texted if he went back to the apartment, we can assume he’s not at the cafe since he was found there, and he could have gone to his usual parks and streets but if he’s being watched he wouldn’t. So, where would he go?”

“It wouldn’t be anywhere with a lot of people,” Virgil added. “Or maybe even with a lot of birds, since they all come to him. Somewhere abandoned?”

Janus nodded. “I think we could check out some of the old warehouse districts.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a start. That one’s only ten minutes after the home one.”

They waited quietly, each caught up in their own thoughts. The bus to their district began trundling past until it slowed down for them and the door opened.

Janus shook his head at the driver. “Sorry, we’re not coming.”

She began to close the doors again without comment.

“Wait!” Virgil waved at her. “Wait a moment! Wait-”

She stopped with a huff almost as loud as the bus’ exhaust. Janus let Virgil pull him through the door by his hand, tapping his card dutifully.

He raised an eyebrow as they stumbled into some seats.

“Where’s the place we were talking about running to just before, uh, bird-friend left?” Virgil whispered, even though he doubted the tired commuters would be listening in for names and details. “And where can you bury the kind of bird friend in our freezer? And where wouldn’t be a place you’d search?”

“The forest?” he replied. There was only a scrubby patch of it outside the city.

“Yup. Look, we should go back to the cafe to get Loki, anyone asks and we’re just, you know, getting rid of the health violation in the fridge in a way which isn’t a health risk to a park or anything.”

Janus stifled a yawn. “That’s very smart.”

“Thanks, it was kinda impulsive, but-” Virgil shrugged as he looked out the window at the unrelenting row of houses. “I’m happy to be out of there.” He tucked his arm around his friend. “And you can nap until we get there.”

“I’m just fine, Virgil,” Janus replied, affronted. “Besides, I don’t want to rumple my outfit.”

Virgil gave an exaggerated yawn himself, and Janus immediately followed. He glared at him, which only made Virgil give him a small grin. “Bedtime.”

He was met with a head thunking onto his shoulder. “You had better wake me up in time,” he threatened.

“I will.” He readjusted so he was more comfortable. “We’ll be fine.”

*

By time they reached the cafe the sky was white and grey. Virgil waited by the bus stop, leaning his head against it as a half-asleep Janus unlocked the front. After enough time for Virgil to consider if he could sleep upright (five minutes), he reappeared with a canvas bag with a rainbow flag hand-printed on it, and a stack of three sandwiches, which he handed to Virgil.

The bus came soon after, and they collapsed into one of the back seats.

They had barely finished the sandwiches by the time they reached their next stop. They got out onto a cracked bit of sidewalk and looked at the trees rising above them. Silent, they walked forward until the concrete suddenly ended.

Virgil breathed in the stench of wild garlic and dug his toe into the slimy layer of dead leaves. Damp air curled in his mouth as though it would die peacefully there. Something chittered in the distance, and then cut off suddenly. He tried to tilt his head up to look at the trees and suddenly the vertigo of only sleeping for a few hours on the bus journeys hit him.

It was a world away from the gilded cage and the dizzying party.

He took a deep breath. “This feels right.”

Janus nodded. He tucked the bag under his arm carefully. “I hope…” he trailed off softly. “Well, Virgil, let us venture onwards.”

He touched his friend’s elbow for just a moment before he walked into the dark trees. After a moment, Janus followed, and they walked on together.

There was occasional litter, plastic bags and water bottles, but as they got deeper into the thick trees and tangled brambles along the forest floor it disappeared. Janus winced as he tried to lift his perfectly shone shoes over a muddy patch Virgil’s leather boots trudged through with ease. The trees were stout and gnarled, fungus protruding out of them like infections.

They wandered without any real direction, just trying to make their way further into the labyrinth of trees.

Virgil suddenly caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and he grabbed his friend’s arm.

It could have been a pile of abandoned clothes and torn out feathers-

But there was a glimpse of leopard print, and the vague outline of wings, and a low crooning coming from the figure curled there.

Janus crouched down six feet away from him, laying Loki’s bag by his side. “Remus,” he said so softly that Virgil barely heard it. “Remus, it’s Janus.”

Remus froze. Then his wings curved up around him. They were a lot taller than Janus was crouching. A pair of grey eyes came up to meet Janus’. His lips parted as he looked over the two of them. His purple and green makeup was smeared together until it looked like a black eye, and even his moustache seemed to have its own case of bed-head.

“We-” Virgil cleared his throat against a sudden lump. “Well, Janus, mostly, he found the guy’s house? And we went there, and, uh, we were worried about you so we looked.”

His eyes widened.

“We found your brother,” Janus said in a quiet voice. “Roman. He told us to tell you that he wasn’t a gladiator any more; he was there instead. That it, uh, wasn’t too bad.”

For a moment, Remus stopped breathing. Then he brought his hands up to his head, slumping his shoulders and letting his wings wrap around himself. “Bullshit,” he said hoarsely. “What else did he say?”

Janus bit his lip. “He told you to run away as soon as you could, and not to listen to anything they offered or threatened.”

Remus made a strangled yelping laugh which set Virgil’s teeth on edge. His wings were trembling so much that there was a slight breeze on his face. “Roman’s saviour goddamn hero bullshit-” He twined his fingers into his hair and started tugging. “He’s not- fuck,” he winced as he caught a matted section. “Not pathetic enough for that job.”

Janus tried to reach a hand out to untangle his hands from his hair, but Remus only stilled and leaned his head into his glove. Janus gently tugged at his wrist, but Remus wrapped his fingers around his hand and held it to his hair.

“Dude, you’re not pathetic. You broke out of that place all by yourself?” Virgil found his voice off-putting in the silence, but he kept speaking. “That’s hard. And you hid in the same town, in plain sight, for ages. And-”

“I ran away,” Remus said into his knees. “And I knew he’d get punished or die. He had to fight people. All goring out eyeballs and pulling out guts by the handful. Or the clawful. Depended on what kind of people were captured.”

“There are more people like you?”

He shrugged and, just like his brother, the movement made his wings move. “With the weird animal thing? Oh, sure. I would rather have a tentacle dick but you get what you get.” He spoke without humour.

Janus pressed a tiny kiss to the back of his hand, not seeming to care about the smear of dirt on it. “Darling, I’m sure you’re well enough endow-”

“No!” Virgil yelled, holding his hands up. “I have risked myself too many times today for you two to have to listen to that from you.”

Remus shrunk back further into a ball. “Sorry.”

For a moment Virgil was struck genuinely speechless. Then his brow furrowed. “Hey, no, I was just teasing.”

Janus turned to glare at him. He widened his eyes in response. Maybe he should have guessed Remus would be more delicate, but, well, it was Remus.

“Anyway, it’s okay, alright?” he attempted.

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted his head and smudged his makeup even more with the heel of his hand. “Fine.”

Virgil pulled the third sandwich out of his pocket and handed it over. “Figured you’d want that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Remus took it and began to carefully undo the wrapping. He took a small bite of the corner. “Mom and Dad are normal but Roman and I just were just born this way- oh there ain’t no other way,” he sang as he shimmied his wings. “But we lived in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed at home our whole lives, even though we talked a lot about hiding ourselves so that we could move. We kept ourselves to ourselves and we had a farm.” He threw his crust to the forest floor, seemingly by habit of having his flock around him. “Hope they didn’t search there for me; that would suck. Our parents saw us get captured, so at least they know what happened.”

Janus nodded as he listened. “How long ago was that?”

“Two years.” He stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Goodness,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine.”

The corners of Remus’ moustache twitched up into a smile. “Nah, you couldn’t. Thanks,” he said through the remains of his sandwich.

Virgil waited for him to finish eating.

“We brought Loki with us, in the bag,” he said. “We figured it would be a good cover, and we can hold the funeral here.” He reached into the bag to pull out a trowel. They definitely hadn’t had one in the cafe, so Janus must have stored it there after Remus disappeared.

Janus reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a bag of classic Lays. He handed them over to Remus. “I do hope the flavour’s alright. I think it’s a classic.”

“Perfect,” he muttered. He stumbled up to his feet with a wince, holding his wings out for balance. Even without them fully spread out, the wingspan blocked the entire section of tree behind him. He rolled his shoulders back and flapped his wings.

Both of them stared.

Remus grinned and widened his eyes. “I can fly, you know. I could shit on you midair like-” All at once, his face crumpled and he held a hand up to his mouth. “Sorry, it all hit me again,” he said with a voice like sandpaper.

Virgil put his hoodie sleeve over his mouth as he swallowed back a guilty laugh. He started digging into the soft forest soil to distract himself.

He heard a flutter of feathers- had he been missing that under the whisper of all Remus’ shifting clothes before? - and then sobbing into a suit jacket. It was kind of scratchy on your face, Virgil knew, but it hid tears pretty well. He moved his whole shoulder into his digging, watching a depression form as the other two murmured words of upset and comfort to each other.

“I thought it was you,” whispered Janus against the shell of Remus’ ear. “And- my heart just stopped.”

“I wish it was.” Remus leant his forehead against Janus’ chest.

“But then how would I hold you, hm?” he replied, and there was the brush of fabric on fabric. “We’ll get him out.”

“You promise?” Remus said, and Virgil’s hand clenched around the handle. It wasn’t a good idea to-

“Promise. Split my chest open with a pickaxe and hope to pickle my heart.”

There was a wet laugh. “Kinky.”

“Come now, that was romance as well as kink.” His best friend’s voice was unbearably soft.

A warm feeling settled in Virgil’s chest despite the chill of the weather. Dammit. He stabbed the trowel into the ground again, ignoring the wetness in his own eyes.

He kept digging, until a set of feathers nudged into his face. “Did you poke me from all the way over there?” Virgil asked incredulously. Remus’ wing was as wide as he was tall, and he used it to poke him in the cheek again. It was a little disconcerting to see how much it moved like, well, a limb of his.

A feather brushed over the tears on his cheek. The wing retracted, and Remus came over to kneel by him and take the trowel. He sunk it into the ground, gouging out a huge section of earth with a small battle-cry. He flung it over his shoulder rather than adding to Virgil’s careful pile and then grinned at him.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bag. “I think you finished the grave.”

He carefully wrapped the pigeon in the canvas bag Janus had chosen for her and handed it to Remus.

He looked at the little bundle in his hands for a long moment. Then he took her out of the bag. He began to unwind the plastic wrap.

Janus winced.

“That’s not clean-” Virgil whispered.

“It’s going to pollute the forest otherwise,” he replied without looking away from the corpse in his hands. “This is more natural. Besides, they’re pretty clean birds.”

So they watched in silence as he carefully took it all off and placed her in the grave. She was still intact, though her body had stiffened. “Thanks for being here, even if you were technically using her to stalk me,” he said. “Um, this was Loki. She was mischievous, and bold, and really smart. I’m going to miss her.” He cleared his throat and nodded, eyes wet. “Okay. Ready.”

Virgil scooped a handful of dirt with his trowel and scattered it over her. It pattered softly against the earth. Remus was staring hard into the distance. A few rays of sun poked through the trees as he pushed the rest of the dirt back into place. “Should we leave some rocks or something?”

Janus nodded. “I can collect-”

“I thought Roman was dead until a few days ago,” Remus interrupted. It sounded like a statement from a scratchy vinyl recording. “Ghosties are easier to carry around than big living brothers who got jacked from murder. Whatever you need me to do to get him out, I’ll do it. Killing, going back- whatever.”

“I don’t need you to do those things,” Janus said firmly. “All I need you to do now is come to my apartment,” he turned to his friend. “I’m not putting you in any further danger, Virgil-”

“Bullshit.”

He paused, brow furrowing. “Beg pardon?”

“That’s bullshit,” he repeated. “This is the part where you’re you’re going to think you’re being really smart about everything,” he held his hands up, “but you stick to your principles too much and you risk yourself and maybe those two-”

“Thank you for your confidence, Virgil,” he said acidicly.

“Anyway.” This was a spectacularly bad idea. “I’m helping.”

Defensive, his voice grew more formal. “If this is about the court cases, or the job, I promise you that you owe me nothing-”

“I like you, and I like Remus, and I don’t like what’s happening.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big thing; it’s just as simple as that. Okay?”

After a moment, Janus gave a nod.

“Aw, you like me?” Remus cooed. He wiggled his shoulders and grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Course.”

Janus gave Remus a helplessly fond smile. “Then it’s decided. I think we could all use some sleep, then we start this evening.”

[madamewriterofwrongs]

May and the Rainbow Kingdom

911/Buck & May

Written for @cirrius-akiyo who wanted a Buck & May friendship.

The station was unusually quiet when she walked through the front door. The trucks were still in their place, being polished and restocked by other crew members – most of whom paid her no mind or recognized her as the ‘captain’s kid’. She’d only been called that once, but she remembered the uneasy feeling and the sneer of the probationary officer’s voice. A well-practiced eyebrow raised, and her best customer service smile, ensured he never bothered her again.

Today she wasn’t here as the ‘captain’s kid’, she was here as a friend in need of help from another – older and wiser – friend. A glance at the ambulance missing from its usual station dampened her expectations slightly.

“Hey, May.” She looked up to see a familiar face waving at her from the loft and she jogged to meet him.

“Hey, Buck. I was hoping to talk to Hen, is she around?”

The blond-haired firefighter returned to his task of tidying the upper floor (the table smelt comfortingly of bleach and lemon so he was nearly done) while she knelt on the couch to watch him work.

“Sorry; she just left on a call with Chim and Bobby. Is there anything I can help you with?”

She tried to keep the dejected sigh from her voice. “How versed are you on Bioethics of Non-Existence?”

It was almost comical, the way Buck paused in his sweeping to take in her question. “I definitely recognize some of those words.”

As she suspected; May turned to collapse onto the couch with a groan. “I really needed to talk to Hen.” Not that she didn’t trust the other adults in her life – Maddie had tried to help, but she’d been out of Medicine for too long – Hen was her last hope.

“School going that well, huh?” She didn’t have to look to hear the amusement in the man’s voice.

“It’s actually pretty good.” She admitted, still slumped half-off the couch. “I just have mt midterm on Friday and I really need someone who can test me on this stuff.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a handle on it. You were always a smart kid.”

May did smile at that. It was easier to accept being called a child from someone who actually knew her as a child. Granted, she and Buck weren’t overly close, but he was always nice to her, and Bobby seemed fond of him.

“I’ve studied this stuff over and over but I just don’t feel ready” she admitted to the ceiling. Maybe Buck should clean those rafters (he was certainly tall enough). Better yet, maybe she could do it. “I either need a distraction or another month of review.”

Maybe if she hid out at the station, she could lie to her professor and say she had a medical emergency. Or maybe, she could convince him to let her take her exam tomorrow and put her out of her misery. She hated the waiting game. The more she reviewed the material, the less secure she felt in her knowledge. It just needed to be over and done with so she could start stressing about the next thing. Her English essay was due next week. It could use a third rewrite.

“I don’t know about the review.” Visions of Buck peering over top of her, pulled May out of her spiral. “But if you’re in need of a distraction, I could use a co-babysitter tonight. I’m watching Christopher while Eddie’s out on a date and I’m sure he’d love to hang out with you.”

An evening spent with her stepdad’s friend, and her stepdad’s other friend’s son was not exactly what she had in mind for a Monday night, but it was better than nothing. Besides, she liked Christopher well enough; he was a cute kid with a sensible head on his shoulders. And Buck was nice – if a little bit accident-prone for the amount of times she’d visited him in the hospital – plus it was an excuse to get out of her routine for a few hours. Maybe she could come early and ask Eddie some questions (an army medic had to have some thoughts on ethics in medicine, right?).

“Sure,” she smiled up at him. “why not?”

Which was how May found herself squished between a surprisingly calm 10-year-old, and an overly-energetic 29-year-old, splitting the difference as she scrolled through their Netflix Kids’ queue.

Christopher had insisted that they didn’t need to use the kid’s channel as he was absolutely old enough to handle all the scary movies. She remembered Harry, not too long ago, with the same attitude (along with the same nightmare he’d had for weeks about a clown in a sewer). While Buck didn’t have the same experience, he was with her decision to stick to the lighter stuff for tonight. Perhaps he was being overly cautious as he always was with the boy.

Everyone in their circle knew about how Buck had saved Christopher during the tsunami and how close the three of them had become afterwards. It was no wonder he wanted to do everything in his power to protect him – even from the CGI monsters.

As they continued to scroll, she paused on their ‘Continue Watching’ bar, to see if there was anything they wanted pick up. She wasn’t about to watch whatever they chose for their post-dinner treat; she had her textbook and laptop in her bag all charged up.

Just as she was about to continue the search for the perfect movie, her eye caught one of the titles with a half-full red bar and shot a confused glance to Buck. The man kept his eyes purposefully trained on the screen, eyes darting to hers once, as a sign that he knew what she was looking at. Still, he showed no sign of explaining himself so she moved on. For now.

They ended up settling on one of the dinosaur documentary movies, but May kept her promise to herself and reviewed through the entire 90-minute event. It was easy enough to tune out, the graphics were fine, the story was predictable, but at least the boys on either side seemed to be enjoying themselves. Every once in a while, Buck would elbow her to pull her attention back to the screen but it never held her interest for more than a few minutes. Then Christopher would do the same, asking her questions or feeding her facts about the various dinosaurs. That did help for a little while, but even that kid’s endless enthusiasm couldn’t keep back the voice in her head that told her she should be studying.

As far distractions went, this night seemed to be a bust.

When she heard the water run in the bathroom, signally the beginning of Christopher’s bedtime routine, May found herself reaching for the remote once again; if only to keep her hands occupied while she waited to say goodbye to Buck. The least she could do was thank him for his attempt to distract her – even if it had failed.

That was when she found the ‘Continue Watching’ bar once again, and her curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s True and the Rainbow Kingdom?” she asked once her companion had returned. “’Cause it doesn’t seem like something Christopher would be into.”

Buck huffed as he flopped on the couch next to her. “Okay,” he began his confession by raising his hands in surrender. “I watched an episode to see if it was something that’d be appropriate for Nia, but I kind of started watching it on my own.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really” he matched her mocking tone. “Not all the time. But I’ll admit, when I’m having a bad day, it’s nice to turn my brain off with some mindless fun.”

She wasn’t laughing at him – maybe she was, but she wouldn’t tell him that – it was that the image of this grown man, sitting at home, watching what was clearly a Sophia the First carbon copy (if the design was to be believed), was very amusing to her.

“Wow, I see how it is.” Buck lightly pushed May as she shuffled over to create more space. “I try and help and instead you mock me. Very nice.”

Even as a joke, she saw his point and the laughter turned into a smile, which morphed into an eyeroll.

“You’ve got to admit, this doesn’t exactly fit your image.”

“I have no image” he protested. “I’m allowed to like whatever I like.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I text my mom that” she had barely begun picking up her phone from the coffee table, when he reached the device first.

“Don’t you dare.” More laughter did make her heart feel a little lighter.

He only handed her phone back once she’d half-heartedly agreed not to text her mom this fresh blackmail material. “I bet you’d like it. It’s about a girl and a cat, and she gets these wishes from a tree, and she uses them to help others.”

“The cat gets wishes?”

“Just” Buck rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote from the cushion between them. “we’re going to watch it right now.”

Without waiting for her response, Buck tapped the first episode and shushed her failed attempt to protest.

The first scene introduced a reasonably catchy theme song with bright colours, along with the main character True and her talking black cat named Bartleby. There was something about a party and a bitchy princess and a weird walking pill they called…something Banjo? Admittedly, when the cat said something sarcastic towards the girls, she cracked a smile, but her mind was still reviewing the differences between Potter’s and Callahan’s philosophies.

The next time she tuned back into the episode, they were sitting on mushroom stools under a tree, attempting to solve a problem as a group. When they took a deep breath, May found herself exhaling with them, and her forehead ached from holding tension for so long. Admittedly, it felt nice to relax her shoulders.

Okay, so this was clearly a kids’ show and nothing else. Mining wishes from a tree and using a book to decipher what all the wishes could do, as though they were Pokémon characters.  It was ridiculous, why was she still watching this? She needed to get home to study.  

“Sure, they get to use the ‘wishopedia’ but my professor won’t let me use Wikipedia as a starting source?” she grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” She startled when Buck smirked at her.

May tucked back into the arm of the couch with a half-hearted glare. “Nothing.”

She really should be reviewing. The more time she wasted outside of the classroom, the worse her chances of success. She shouldn’t be wasting her time watching this kids’ monstrosity. This really was a stupid show. Why would True forgive Grizelda after she was such a bitch to Bingo-Bango? She was always so positive and patient. And she only used her special powers to help people. That was pretty nice.

That theme song was pretty catchy.

Before she knew it, she was four episodes in, watching two mushroom people win a motor race after everyone got detoured by falling crystals and Grizelda being a bitch (again).

“She should just toss the Cu-Bigly over the cliff and then throw Grizelda.” At Buck’s look of amused indignation, she shrugged. “What? She deserves it for sabotaging the race. It’s not like she’d die from that height.”

A quick glance at her phone told her it was after ten and she had a class in the morning. What astonished her most, was that she hadn’t thought about her course work in an hour. For the first time since starting university, she’d let herself escape her thoughts just for a little while; and honestly, she felt lighter for it.

Still unbelievably guilty for not spending every waking moment of her life preparing for her next test or assignment – but just a little bit lighter.

“Hey, Buck?” She turned to the man barely hiding the fact that he’d begun to doze off. May smirked when he awoke with a snort. “Thanks for your help, I really needed this.”

For a moment, she saw the ‘puppy dog’ that her mom liked to call him: the puffed chest and kind smile and excited eyes. She saw what won over her, somewhat cynical, mother; it made her smile brighter.

“Glad I could help.”

Buck was scrolling mindlessly through his phone two weeks later, when it buzzed with a new text notification, and his mood instantly improved.

87%

Also I may have finished the first season of TatRK

I totally ship True and Zee

Do you want me to wait for you to catch up?

“Hey, May passed her Bioethics Mid-Term” he announced to his friends sitting in the loft; the rest, he would keep as his own reward for a job well done.

Bobby looked up from his usual place in the kitchen, buttering a pan for some dish most of them wouldn’t get to eat. “Since when did May start telling you about her exam results?”

There was no honest answer that wouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but Buck blushed regardless. “I, uh, helped her study.”

Eddie slapped his shoulder jovially as he passed on his way to grab a bottle of water. “Is there something you want to tell us? You have a secret Bioethics degree?”

Buck brushed him off with a smile. “No, but you do what you can to help out family, right?”

His eyes met with his Captain’s and there was a fondness he only saw with May and Harry. Something he hadn’t seen for himself in a long while.

“Yeah, kid, you do.”

[fantastic-bby]

Inked

Pairing: (F)Reader x Mark

Word count: 6.6k (my writing’s starting to get slightly longer owo)

Genre: Romance, soulmate au, Idol!Mark, Non-Idol!Reader

Summary: In a world where the tattoos would be shared among soulmates, Mark uses this to his advantage in an attempt in locating his soulmate. Unexpectedly, his soulmate ends up getting a tattoo that’s completely different than what he would usually get in an attempt to remind him that she exists. Unbeknownst to them, her tattoo is the one that brings them together...

Warnings: None

Playlist: Falling For You - Peachy! || Chocolate - The 1975 || Let Me - Got7 || Page - Got7

Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings || Jackson - Bubbles || Jinyoung - Masked || Youngjae - Drawings || BamBam - Footprints || Yugyeom - Pieces

The stinging on your calf was what woke you up. You moved to the full body mirror to see what it was and was shocked to see a large cross forming on your now irritated skin. You scrunch your face in annoyance; whatever tattoo your soulmate would get would appear on your own skin. 

You had already gone through three other tattoos and you felt every second of the needle as the designs were unwantedly inked into your skin. 

You had yet to find your soulmate and it seemed as though they just didn’t seem to bother that their soulmate would have the same tattoos and feel the same pain. It was a bit strange, but the only marks that you two would share were tattoos. Other soulmates would share bruises and feel pain whenever their soulmate would get injured, but not you. 

You only got their tattoos.

The first and second tattoos that appeared were a pair of dates written in roman numbers on your rib cage. You hated the fact that your soulmate chose their first tattoo on one of the most painful places to get a tattoo since you had to experience the grueling pain of it. 

The second tattoo that appeared was the word “Truth” on your inner bicep. You actually admired that tattoo. There was probably a more meaningful story behind it from your soulmate’s side, but you liked it because somehow, it resonated with you. 

This cross that was drawn on your calf was the third. Despite how beautiful the cross was turning out, you were annoyed that it woke you up at 2 a.m. You scolded your soulmate in your mind as you made your way back into bed - being careful not to bump your calf anywhere - and decided to try and sleep.

You woke up in the morning to the sound of your roommate moving around the apartment. 

“Haneul eonnie?” You questioned tiredly when you saw her limping towards the kitchen from her room. 

“Did I wake you?” She asked as she turned to you, “Leo got a tattoo on his fucking foot. It hurts like hell.” She grumbled when she showed the outline of a rose on her foot. 

“Damn,” You muttered out with a yawn, “I have a huge cross on my calf.” You turned around to show her the design. 

“Your soulmate really likes tattoos.” She pointed out as she pulled out a few eggs from the fridge. 

“It seems that way.” You sighed as you made your own way into the kitchen and pulled bacon out of the freezer. “I already have three other tattoos and whoever it is just keeps adding to it.” You mutter out. 

“They’re pretty, though.” Haneul points out as she turned the stove on, “I guess we’re both lucky our soulmates have nice tastes in tattoos.” She chuckles. 

“It might be a bit of a problem since the cross is in more of an obvious place,” You point out as you turn down to look at it, “But I think it’s really nice.” You smiled as you admire the rose design that filled the inside of the cross. 

“Why don't you get a tattoo?” She questioned. 

“I technically already have.” You looked at her in confusion as you gestured to the cross and the one on your inner bicep. 

“No, I mean why not you get one in person. Challenge your soulmate, (Y/n).” She clarified, “Get something simple but in a place they’ll have to look at all the time. Then they’ll remember that their tattoos are projected onto another person.” She explained.

“I’ll think about it.” You nodded. You did think about it. The thought sat in your head for the next few days. It was a good idea to get back at your soulmate for inking themselves constantly and causing you pain and discomfort. 

That led you to looking up small but cute tattoos while you sit in your room with your laptop in front of you. You were looking at an abundance of designs but only one seemed to stand out from the rest. You saved the design into your phone and left your room to see Haneul sitting on her couch with her soulmate - who also happened to be your best friend - Leo.

“I think I finally found a design that I like.” You announced to the two and showed them your phone. Haneul moved forward a bit to get a closer look at it, 

“Cute.” She smiled. 

“It’s simple.” Leo nodded. 

“Where are you getting it?” Haneul asked when she leaned back against the couch. 

“Probably on the collarbone. I don’t feel like troubling them too much with it. I just want to let them know, ‘hey, I’m here’.” You said as you looked at the design once again. 

“Why a paper plane?” Leo questioned as he slung his arm around Haneul’s shoulders. 

“I just think it’s cute.” You shrugged. “I don’t really have a meaning for it. It’s cute, it’s small and I think it’ll be a nice tattoo.” You look away from your phone to look at him nodding. 

“It is cute. But if you guys end up meeting because of this tattoo, let each other know if you’re getting another one.” Haneul grumbled when she glanced over at Leo. 

“I gave you a heads up.” He defended himself. 

“Yeah, while you were getting the tattoo.” She snapped at him. “I think it's a nice tattoo, (Y/n).” 

“When are you getting it? I can take you to the place I got mine.” Leo offered. 

“Really?” You questioned. When he nodded, you smiled, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“What about today?” She suggested. “You’ll be done in no time. It’s small.” She turned to her soulmate who shrugged.

“I’m free anytime this week.” 

“I don’t really want to disturb your together time so I’ll get it tomorrow.” You shake your head. 

“If you get it later, I’ll follow. I wanna see your reaction when you get the tattoo.” Haneul gave you a cheeky smile. 

At the tattoo parlor was where Haneul followed you and Leo. You gave in after a while and just decided ‘fuck it’. Leo drove the two of you into town where the parlor was and you couldn’t help but feel nervous as you looked at the design on your phone throughout the drive. 

“Are you coming in?” Haneul asked Leo when he parked the car outside the parlor. 

“I’m not missing (Y/n) getting her first tattoo.” He snorted as he unclipped the seatbelt. “I know the guy who owns this place so it’ll be nice to talk to him again.” He led you inside the small lot and greeted the man at the counter. The man had a complete tattoo sleeve covering his right arm and what looked like a half finished sleeve on his other. 

“Hyung!” The man’s face lit up when he saw him walk in, the name Han written on a nametag on his shirt. “Getting another tattoo?” He asked but when his eyes moved to the two of you following behind Leo he understood, “Ah, okay. I assume one of them is getting it.” 

“Yeah, Haneul isn’t exactly happy that I got the tattoo without telling her.” Leo chuckled and gestured his head over to Han when he looked at you. 

“This one?” He questioned. You nodded shyly and pulled your phone out of the pocket of your shorts to show him the design. Han looked at it and led you behind the black curtains that separate the rooms. 

“How long will it take?” You questioned as the nerves continued to build up when your brain realised what you were doing. 

“It’s a small tattoo. Probably an hour or two. Maybe less.” He shrugs as he pats on the leather chair. You sit in the chair and feel your palms start to sweat as Haneul and Leo watch you from the door. 

“We can’t join you over there because of a sanitary issue.” Leo informed when he remembered how his own friend had to wait for him when he was getting his tattoo. You watched Han move back and forth at the shelves. 

“No colours?” He glanced over at you when he sat at the sketching table. You bit your lip as you thought about it while looking at your phone. 

“A splash of watercolour behind it?” Your voice came out small when you felt as though the colouring would make it into too much of a cliche tattoo. 

“Alright.” He smiled kindly as he started to sketch out the tattoo. “Do you have any other tattoos?” He asked without taking his attention off of the paper. 

“I have another three but it’s because my soulmate keeps getting tattoos.” You extend your leg out to show him the cross on your calf. 

“Your soulmate seems to have an eye for tattoos or some kind of common sense not to get anything stupid tattooed on them. That’s a really lovely tattoo.” He hummed out as he stood up, “How’s this?” He showed you the stencil of the paper plane. He had added a trail of dotted lines and outlines of clouds. “I’ll colour in the clouds, don’t worry.” He smiled and moved over to the chair that was beside you when you nodded. You pulled down the strap of your tank top to expose your collarbone.

He placed the stencil onto your skin and pulled the paper away to reveal the blue outline of the design before rubbing your skin with numbing gel. 

The sound of the tattoo gun starting only heightened your nerves and your entire body was starting to sweat. Haneul and Leo continued to watch, both with pure amusement plastered all over their faces when the needle hit your skin. 

“Holy shit!” You yelped out. The constant sting of the needle got worse when it got closer to your collarbone and you could feel actual tears pricking your eyes from how painful it was.

“Yeah, the collarbone is pretty painful.” Han chuckled as he continued his work. You glared at Haneul when she started to giggle at you. 

“(Y/n) just has a low pain tolerance.” She snickered at you when you managed to give her the middle finger. 

“It’s not a problem.” Han glanced up at you for a moment. “It hurts more to get the tattoo yourself compared to when your soulmate gets one.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” You mutter through a grimace. “This hurts way more than the rib cage one they got.” You glanced down to see him still outlining the plane. 

After another agonizing hour and a half, the tattoo was done. Han moved up from you and put away the tattoo gun on the metal table. 

“Finished.” He clapped his gloved hands together. “You guys can come closer now.” He ushered over the couple standing by the doorway. 

“You feeling okay?” Haneul asked as she moved over to your side. You nodded at her and adjusted yourself in your seat, your lower half feeling numb from sitting for too long.

“Yeah, it became bearable after a while.” You mutter out. 

“You can take a look at it in the mirror over there.” Han pointed out to the full body mirror sitting in the corner of the room as he prepared the plastic wrap. You moved over to the mirror and looked at the tattoo. 

“Oh, it’s so cute.” You cooed with a smile growing on your face when you saw the design sitting right under your collarbone.

“Now, you have something that contrasts the tattoos your soulmate keeps getting.” She smiled when she looked at the tattoo through the mirror as well. 

»»————-　　————-««

“Woah, that’s new.” Jackson pointed out when Mark sat up, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He squinted his eyes at his roommate through the pain of the throbbing headache; a painful souvenir from the night before.

“What?” He muttered out.

“You have a new tattoo.” Jackson pointed at the irritated skin of his collarbone. Mark looked down and his eyes widened when he saw the paper plane. “I guess your soulmate’s tired of you always getting tattoos.” He snickered. Mark groggily sat up from his bed and moved over to his closet, opening it to look in the mirror that hung off of the closet door. 

“I guess they are.” He muttered when he got a full look at the new tattoo. He wasn’t used to any colour being on his tattoos, but he liked it. It was simple. 

“It’s cute.” Jackson tilted his head to look at it properly. Mark nodded, 

“I like it.” He stated, gently running his fingers along the red skin and being careful not to apply any pressure to it. “I wonder what timezone they’re in since it happened while I was sleeping.” He hummed out as he ran a hair through his messy bed hair. 

“If you’re sleeping when this showed up, then that probably means you keep getting tattoos while they’re sleeping.” Jackson spoke as he threw on a shirt. Mark stared at himself in the mirror as he thought about it. A small sense of guilt washed over him when he realised that maybe they were sleeping whenever he was getting his tattoos. 

“Damn,” Mark sighed out as he looked down at his rib cage through the mirror. “That makes me feel bad.” 

“Maybe this is their way of reminding you they exist.” He joked. 

Mark spent the next few days completely obsessed with his new tattoo. He strangely felt more connected to his soulmate even though the tattoo was the only response he had ever gotten from them. His group always caught him silently admiring the tattoo in between schedules whenever he’d be shirtless or whenever he was wearing a low cut shirt. 

“Mark hyung, you’re really into it, huh?” Jinyoung asked when he walked into the changing room to see his older member staring at the vanity mirror while holding his shirt in his left hand. 

“I just think it’s really cute.” Mark muttered out without much attention towards Jinyoung. 

“Don’t spend too much time looking at it. We have to get ready for the show.”Jaebeom patted Mark on the back lightly as he walked past them. 

Right, the show. 

Mark was hoping that maybe he could find his soulmate wherever they were while they were on tour but so far he hadn’t felt much whenever they had fansigns or hi touches. 

The rest of his group had described their experience with their soulmates as a fire in their soul being ignited. Mark remembered asking Jackson about how he felt when he met his soulmate and distinctly remembers their conversation that night in their hotel room. 

“It felt like I suddenly saw everything in colour.” He explained. “I never knew how empty I actually felt until I met her.” 

“Is it like how other people describe it?” Mark asked. 

“Other people described it as an explosion in their soul. I think everyone feels it differently.” Jackson shrugged. “But I do remember feeling like everything in my body was just warm and I remember feeling so fucking happy.”

That was the feeling Mark was yearning for. The feeling of suddenly finding the person he was meant to spend forever with. The person he was connected with by soul. 

“Do you think maybe he’ll meet them soon?” Yugyeom whispered to Youngjae as they stood at the other end of the room. 

“Hopefully.” Youngjae shrugged. “He’s really into that tattoo. He doesn’t even appreciate his own tattoos this much.” He chuckled. 

“The tour might make it easier, but what if his soulmate’s in a location we’re not going to?” BamBam mentioned, making them all turn to him. 

“That is a possibility.” Youngjae nodded. 

“They could be in Korea for all we know.” Yugyeom pointed out with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“He’s the only one who hasn’t found his soulmate yet. I feel bad for him.” BamBam sighed as they turned back to Mark to see him tracing his tattoo with his fingers. 

“Attention away from him or he might get snappy.” Jinyoung ushered as he approached them. “You know how he feels about the whole soulmate issue.” He spoke to them softly.

“You feeling hopeful?” Jackson asked Mark, tearing his attention away from the tattoo to finally put on the black tank top he was wearing for the concert. 

“About what?” Mark hummed out in question. 

“The tattoo.” He turned to Jackson and shrugged, 

“I don’t know when I’ll meet them or if I’ll ever meet them. I just like the tattoo and it makes me feel closer to them.” He smiled slightly at him but Jackson could see the sadness that was hiding behind his eyes. 

They were all aware that Mark could be slightly sensitive about the topic of soulmates, but he never really showed much sensitivity unless he was angry. Jackson could see how much despair Mark was in that he still hadn’t even come close to finding his soulmate. 

Every time Mark got a tattoo, he was secretly hoping he would find someone with the same exact tattoos. Thus, why he had gotten such a big tattoo in such an obvious place. He was hoping that he would bump into someone who had the same cross in the same place. He wanted to find his soulmate with the cross. 

“Mark hyung.” Yugyeom’s voice pulled Mark out of thought and made him turn to his younger member. “We need to go.” He gestured his head to the stage and Mark nodded, 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

»»————-　　————-««

You opened the front door with your eyes squinted at Leo. 

“Haneul eonnie isn’t here.” You grumble out as you rub your eyes from the evening nap that Leo had ever so rudely woken you from by ringing your doorbell. 

“Is it wrong for me to see my best friend? I needed to see you.” He said as he pushed past you and into the apartment. Your eyes only squinted even more at his words when you turn around to face him after you close the door. 

“Oppa, I know I said you practically live here too, but seriously?” You throw your arms up in the air in annoyance when his back was turned to you with his attention on his phone. You cross your arms over your chest when he turns around and holds his phone up in front of your face, 

“Look familiar?” He questions. You let your eyes adjust to the screen and your jaw goes slack when you see what he’s talking about. You yanked his phone out of his hands and zoom in on the picture or the large cross tattooed on the calf of non other than Mark Tuan from Got7. 

“Holy shit.” You mutter as you look back at him, “Does he have any of the other tattoos?”

Leo takes his phone back, “There’s really blurry pictures of others but look,” He showed you another picture of the tattoos on his bicep and rib cage, “Don’t you have these too?” He gestured to the tattoo on your inner bicep that was slightly showing from under the sleeve of your shirt. 

“No way.” You whisper in slight disbelief, “It could be a coincidence.” You shake your head. Leo raises an eyebrow at you before turning his phone back to himself. 

“It would be a coincidence if he didn’t have this one.” He turns the phone back to you and you could feel your entire being jump when you see a picture of Mark posing in his swimming trunks and a tattoo, no, your paper plane tattoo on his collarbone. 

“Where is this picture from?” You asked as you once again snatch his phone from his hands to get a better look. 

“One of their backup dancers is my brother. Sometimes they get drunk and swim in the pool and it just so happened that Mark got a new tattoo around the same time that you did.” He smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest, “I think we just found your soulmate.” 

“I still don’t believe it.” You bit your lip. 

“(Y/n), seriously?” He huffed out, “He has all your tattoos and that paper plane tattoo is exactly the same as yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “When Haneul gets back, I’m going to convince her to take you to their concert here in Seoul.” 

“I don’t know, Leo oppa. It doesn’t make sense. If they’re from Korea, then why do my tattoos always pop up while I’m sleeping?” You question, still stuck on the belief that Mark wasn’t your soulmate. 

“Think outside the box, (Y/n). Maybe he got them while he was on tour or while he was drunk or having an existential crisis in the middle of the night.” He squinted his eyes at you, “I’m getting you into the concert no matter what.” He gave you a cheeky smile and took his phone from your hands, dialing a number. 

“What are you doing?” You asked when he pressed his phone to his ear and began talking. 

“Hyung, when’s the next concert in Seoul?” His question made your eyes widen and you quickly jumped onto his back to try and grab his phone out of his hands. 

“Kang Leo!” You yell as you tried to pull the phone away from him. 

“I think I found Mark-ssi’s soulmate.” He spoke through the aggression you were putting him under, desperately trying to keep both of you standing and swatting your hands away. “Yeah, same tattoos and everything. Even the paper plane. They’re back next week?” You froze. He glanced over his shoulder and smirked when you did, “Alright, thanks. Three would work.” He hung up the phone and you were still hanging on his back frozen. You slid off of his back and glared at him, 

“What if he’s not my soulmate and I just end up embarrassing myself?” You poke at his chest. He raised his hand and flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp and move away from him. 

“That’s for speaking so disrespectfully to me.” He smiled at you, “And if he’s not, then we’ll find out. If he is and you don’t go, you’ll be throwing away an opportunity.” 

“Why do you know literally everyone?” You groaned as you crouched onto the floor with your hands covering your face. 

“I’m a social butterfly.” He shrugged. “You owe me now!” He cheered. You moved your hands from your face and glared at him just as the sound of beeping came from the keypad to the front door. 

Haneul walked into the apartment and froze in her spot when she saw you crouched on the ground and her soulmate standing across from you with a wide smile on his face. 

“Okay, what happened?” She questioned as she slipped off her heels.

“I think I found (Y/n)’s soulmate and he’s an idol!” Leo announced with his hands in the air. 

“Really?” She looked between you and him. You covered your face with your hands once again and nodded. “What did you do?” She moved over to him when she realised Leo must’ve done something about it.

“My brother is a backup dancer for Got7 and he got us three backstage passes for the concert next week in Seoul.” He unlocked his phone and showed her the picture of Mark’s tattoos. 

“Holy shit, (Y/n)’s gonna date an idol.” Haneul chuckled. You look up at her and pout,

“Eonnie, what if it’s not him?” You whine out at her. 

“Oh come on, it’s worth a try.” She waved her hand at you. “If we don’t go at all, we’ll never know.” She tugged on your arm so that you would stand up. “Now, you have a week to prepare. Put yourself together and let’s get two souls together!” She clapped excitedly. 

Haneul and Leo really spent the whole week just getting you ready. Leo even bought the fan lights because he felt like being at a concert without one would be boring. 

“I’m supporting my brother.” Leo shrugged when he insisted on buying the fan light. 

“The fan light is for the group, not your brother.” You pointed out. 

“Sssh,” He hushed you, “By supporting the group, I’m indirectly supporting my brother.” He said as he pulled the boxes off of the shelf. 

Haneul on the other hand was learning fanchants. 

“If we don’t learn them, it’ll be embarrassing. We’re listening to GOT7 almost everyday and we’ve never thought about learning any of the fanchants for fun.” She pointed out when you walked in on her playing one of their comebacks on the TV. You actually ended up joining her after half an hour of her playing Fly over and over again. 

You found yourself staring at the ceiling the night before the concert. You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. Whether it was excitement from anticipating the concert or the possibility of meeting your soulmate, it wasn’t letting you sleep.

Mark instead was spending his time in the dorms, completely unaware of the person he was going to meet the next day. Leo’s brother had told everyone about it except for Mark, even their managers and the crew. 

“He’s sulking while playing Fortnite.” Jackson sighed as he closed the bedroom door to Jinyoung’s room. 

“If he knew what was going to happen tomorrow, I don’t think he’d sleep.” Jinyoung replied as he turned away from the keyboard sitting on his desk. Jackson sat himself on the edge of his bed, 

“He asked me a while ago about how I felt when I met my soulmate.” He muttered out, obviously concerned for Mark. 

“He asked me that, too. I don’t really blame him. We met our soulmates years ago. He’s the last of us and he hasn’t even come close to feeling like he’s going to meet his.” He pursed his lips as he turned back to the keyboard, starting to aimlessly play a melody. 

“Do you think she’s the one?” Jackson asked after a moment of listening to Jinyoung play. His question made his friend stop to think. 

“Anything could happen, Jackson. They said she has the tattoos. Let’s just hope it’s her.” He nodded slowly. 

“I hate seeing him sad. It makes me sad.” He pouted. 

“You sound like his boyfriend.” Jinyoung joked as he started playing once again. “Don’t worry too much about it. You might accidentally tell him.” He chuckled. 

“I promise I won’t tell him. I’m just worried, I guess.” Jackson shrugged. 

“It’s okay to be worried. He is our brother after all.” Jinyoung nodded at him, “Now, instead of being here, go give him your company. He might be feeling lonely.”

»»————-　　————-««

“You ready?” Haneul asked as she poked her head into your room. You were looking at the full body mirror and trying on outfits. “Are you having trouble?” She asked when you didn’t answer, your full attention of trying to find the right outfit. You turned to her with a sigh. She pursed her lips before rummaging through your closet, 

“I’ve tried everything. Nothing looks nice.” You groan as you plop yourself onto your bed. 

“You’re just nervous.” She pulled out a simple neon green crop top and white shorts, “Try this. Their whole colour is green anyway.” She handed you the outfit. You sat up and gave her a skeptical look but decided to put it on anyway. To your surprise, it was perfect. 

You left the apartment shortly after Leo arrived with all three of the fanlights in his hand, 

“My brother said he handed the passes to one of the guards.” Leo spoke as the three of you made your way down the apartment building, “We just have to show them our ID when we get there so they can confirm it’s us.” 

“You brought your purse, right?” Haneul questioned you. You nodded and pulled your purse out of your clear bag, making a double check to make sure you had everything you needed. 

“All’s here.” You nodded to the two of them. 

“Do you want to watch the show first or do you want to meet Mark first?” Leo asked as the three of you got into his car. 

“Let’s watch the show first. I don’t want him to feel disappointed while he’s performing.” You mutter out as you lean back in the leather seat. 

“Stop thinking that way, (Y/n).” Haneul turned around from the passenger seat to squint at you, “If we don’t go, we’ll never know. Even if he isn’t your soulmate, it’s still worth a shot.” She scolded you. You let out a sigh and nod, 

“Sorry, it just seems really unlikely to me.” You mumbled, looking out of the window to the buildings passing. 

“Why so?” Leo asked as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror. 

“He’s an idol. He’s like… famous. What if he turns me down even if we are soulmates because I’m just normal?” You let out another sigh, sinking further into the seat. 

“That’s impossible.” She shook her head, “You’re his soulmate. I’m pretty sure he’d do anything for you. Right, Leo?” Haneul lightly nudged Leo’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, totally.” He nodded, “My brother said that the other members’ soulmates aren’t idols. They’re with them even though they’re ‘normal’.” He raised one hand to air quote the word normal. “You’ll be fine, (Y/n).” He gave you a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror. 

You let your head rest against the window for the rest of the ride. Both your roommate and your best friend were still trying their best to reassure you, but your heart was still filled with doubt. Anything could happen. Mark was an idol and you were not. 

“Stop worrying about it and let’s have fun.” Haneul spoke as she guided your shoulders towards the venue. After you guys had arrived, you made the sudden decision to turn back but Haneul and Leo were having none of it. 

“You worry too much, (Y/n).” Leo chuckled as he led you straight to the entrance. You watched the way IGOT7’s were excitedly waiting outside the venue with their banners and their lightsticks. “Give me your IDs.” He spoke when he stopped in front of one of the guards. 

You could feel your stomach starting to fill with anxiety the longer you watched him talk to the guard. He turned around after a minute and handed you your pass, “Don’t lose it.” He chuckled. 

“I’m glad we didn’t come any earlier.” You muttered out as you slipped the lanyard of the pass around your neck, “I think it would’ve given me more opportunity to run away.” You joked. 

Haneul chuckled, “We didn’t need to come earlier because Leo’s brother got us VIP seats.” She glanced over at Leo who nodded. 

“We get to watch the whole show from above in one of the balcony area thingies.” He said as he led you into the venue and up the stairs. 

“Holy shit, we’ll see everything from here!” Haneul excitedly clapped her hands when she saw the view of the entire stage. You watched as the venue started to fill with people. The lights went off and you could feel the excitement of the concert buzz starting to replace your anxiety. You watched as the music started and the group came out onto the stage. 

Mark stepped out onto the stage with a smile on his face from the sound of the crowd chanting. 

“Ahgase, are you ready?” Jackson asked into the microphone, his voice coming out through the sound system and echoing throughout the venue. The crowd screamed louder. 

The moment you saw Mark, you were entranced. The sound of his voice made your heart flutter. The way his body moved made your worries completely disappear. His smile melted your heart. 

“Oh my god,” You whispered out in awe. 

Mark’s eyes were constantly scanning the crowd in an attempt to remember as many of their fans as he could. Halfway through Page, his eyes met yours. The whole world slowed down around him and everything else sounded muffled. His lips parted in awe at the sight of you and you could only do the same. It felt as though a fire was ignited in your soul. 

Mark did the only thing he felt was logical and lifted his arm up to show the tattoo on his inner bicep. You rolled up your sleeve and lifted your own arm. Despite the distance, he could still see the tattoo as clear as day. 

“(Y/n)?” Leo turned to you when you saw your arm up but you didn’t respond to him. He followed your gaze and saw Mark staring directly at you. “Haneul!” He called over to his soulmate who was sitting beside him. When she turned to face him, he pointed at you and she realised that you had already locked eyes with Mark. 

“(Y/n)!” Haneul reached over and waved her hand in front of your face, causing you to snap out of your trance. 

“What?” You asked as you turned to her. 

“Is he your soulmate?” She asked. You turn back to the stage and see Mark stealing glances in your direction as he moved over to the other side of the stage before nodding, 

“I think so.” 

»»————-　　————-««

“Take a deep breath, (Y/n).” Haneul rubbed your back gently, “If you really can’t do it, we can go.” She smiled softly at you. You turned to her and nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Okay, we just need to follow this dude backstage.” Leo announced as he turned around from the crew member he was talking to. “You okay?” He questioned you, silently offering one last second to let yourself run away but you nodded. 

“I-I can do this.” You took a deep breath and smiled at him. 

“Okay, come on.” The crew member led you into the venue and through the back. You couldn’t help but rub your hands together anxiously the closer you got backstage. You looked around the venue to try and desperately find something that would calm you down when a hand wrapped around yours. 

You turned to your side to see Haneul holding your hand in hers with a comforting smile on her face. Leo slung his arm around your shoulders, 

“If anything happens, we’re here for you.” He smiled at you. You returned the smile, glad that at least you weren’t doing this alone because you were sure you would back out at the last minute. Which you were ready to do when you reached the curtain that hid the backstage. 

The grip on your hand tightened as you pushed through the curtain to see Leo’s brother waiting behind the curtain. His tired expression immediately lit up at the sight of his younger brother, 

“Leo!” He opened his arms and hugged him. 

“Hyung, you did really well!” Leo congratulated him as he pulled away, “This is Haneul and (Y/n).” He moved aside so that his brother could see you both. 

“I assume (Y/n)-ssi is the soulmate since you’ve mentioned Haneul-ssi a couple times before.” He smiled at you, “I’ll tell you now, Mark couldn’t stop talking about you right after the show finished.” He chuckled as he started walking, the three of you following him through the backstage area. “He kept talking about this girl who had his tattoos and how his entire world stopped moving the moment he saw her.” 

Haneul nudged your shoulder teasingly when she saw your cheeks starting to heat up. 

“(Y/n)’s nervous that he’ll turn her down because she’s not an idol.” She told Leo’s brother. You slapped her arm and she stuck her tongue out at you in response. 

“Really?” He turned around to glance at you. When you nodded shyly he let out a soft chuckle, “There’s no way that’ll happen. He’s sad a lot of the time because he’s the only one who hasn’t found his soulmate. All the other members found theirs years ago.” He stopped walking when he reached the changing room and turned around to face you completely, “No worries about this at all, (Y/n)-ssi. He will most definitely want to be with you.” He reassured you. 

He waited until you nodded and he knocked on the door. Your grip on Haneul’s hand turned into you practically hugging her arm as you felt yourself getting more and more nervous once again. She placed her other hand on top of yours to calm your nerves. 

“God, if you weren’t here, I probably would’ve melted into the ground.” You muttered out to her and she laughs, 

“I know you would, that’s why I’m here.” She teased, “Unfortunately, when the door opens and you have to see Mark, Leo and I are going to stay out here.” She muttered to you just as the door opened to reveal Youngjae. He looked between Leo’s brother and the three of you before nodding, 

“Is it her?” He gestured to you. Leo’s brother nodded. “Okay, good, because Mark hyung is getting sad again.” He chuckled as he moved aside to let you into the room. You glanced behind you to see Haneul, Leo and his brother looking at you with their thumbs up as the door closed. 

“Sad?” You questioned as you turned to Youngjae.

“He’s scared he’ll never see you again.” He let out another soft chuckle. The further you got into the room, the more members you saw. Yugyeom and BamBam were the next two who saw you, their eyes widening as they quickly left the room. “We’ll give you guys your privacy, but we’ll come back in like 20 minutes.” He said after Jinyoung and Jaebeom noticed your presence. 

Once they had left the room, you caught sight of Mark sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest. If the room hadn’t been empty, you wouldn’t have heard his soft sobs. You froze in place, unsure of whether you should comfort him or not. 

He glanced up at you and his bloodshot eyes widened when he saw you. “W-What are you doing here?” He asked as he scrambled to his feet and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

“My best friend saw a picture of your paper plane tattoo and his brother’s one of your backup dancers.” You explained softly as you took a step closer to him. 

“Are you…” He trailed off as he took a step closer as well, “My soulmate?” He asked as he hesitantly extended his hand towards you. 

“I think I am.” You whispered out as you took his hand. The electricity that ran through your hand was enough to let you know. Your entire body felt warm and felt as though the initial jolt was starting to ignite you from deep within. It was exactly the same feeling as when you had locked eyes with him for the first time. 

Mark’s grip on your hand tightened and more tears leaked out of his eyes as he smiled, 

“It’s you.” He let out a laugh through his tears, “You’re my soulmate.” He whispered as he leaned his face closer to yours. 

“I’ve been meaning to meet you.” You couldn’t help the smile that was creeping onto your face as he leaned closer and pressed his chapped lips to yours. You could feel the explosion everyone was talking about. Your heart felt like it could burst from pure love just by the feeling of his lips on yours. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, deepening the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to tighten your grip around him. 

“That’s enough.” Jackson giggled from the doorway, forcing the two of you apart to turn to him only to see all of them - including Haneul, Leo, his brother and all their crew members - watching the two of you. “We don’t need any messes in the changing rooms.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you. 

“Shut up.” Mark grumbled at him through the smile before turning back to you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He hummed out as he pressed his forehead against yours.

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home Chapter One: Hometown (Nick x Y/N)

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable...until her sister asks her to show Nick around town...a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: None A/N: My first fic based on one of Dacre’s characters! I hope you all enjoy it. I’ve checked it for spelling issues and stuff like that. However, I’ve been working really hard on this, and working in real life, so I may have missed some issues. In that case, if you see any issues, no you didn’t, lmao. Also, although this fic has Nick in it, it has no spoilers for The Broken Hearts Gallery! To be honest, Nick is in this just because the plot fits him the best! let’s be honest, this prompt does not fit Billy lmaooo

Special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop​, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting​, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Nick or his character! Like I said, I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie because it’s adorable!

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent towards the airport. Please place all tray tables and seats in the upright position, stow away any laptops or other electrical equipment, and remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened.” The flight attendant chirpily announces over the intercom, and I let out the sigh I didn’t even know I was holding. In a short while, I’d be on my way back to Saint Chase, the place I thought I’d never set foot in again. I had left that place behind years ago and moved to New York City, hoping that the bad memories from that town didn’t follow me there. And for the most part, they didn’t. However, since my younger sister was getting married there in three weeks, and I was the maid of honour, I obviously couldn’t turn it down. I love my sister, of course I do, and of course I wanted to see her again and take part in such a special moment of her life...I just wish she’d picked somewhere else to get married. Sooner than I’d have liked, the plane lands, and after collecting my luggage, I walk into arrivals. I don’t even have to look around the room before I hear:

“Y/N!!! Hi!” My younger sister Katie calls across to me. She bounds up to me and wraps her arms around me before I can even react. I immediately smell her fruity perfume. It smells familiar. It smells like home. “How was your flight? I hope it was good. I thought we were going to be late getting here, but thankfully traffic wasn’t too bad.” She continues chattering away, and I smile. Katie was a ball of energy in a 5′4 tall body, and that’s partly why I love her so much.

“Katie. Breathe.” I giggle, and she stops.

“Sorry! I know I get carried away sometimes. Anyway, you remember Adam, right? He-”

“Yes, Katie, I remember your fiancé. The same fiancé that you’re getting married to in three weeks.” I tease, and she flashes pink. “Hi, Adam.” I hold out my hand for a handshake, but he pulls me into a hug too.

“Come on Y/N.” He tells me, giving me a warm smile. “We’re almost family, you can give me a hug.” Weirdly, hugging Adam felt like home too. As they both lead me out of the airport towards their car, holding hands and chatting the entire way, I can’t help but smile. They really were perfect for each other. They were the typical high school sweethearts, who had been together since they met seven years ago. And now here they were, about to get married. I used to think true love, that sappy kind in movies where the guy is so squeaky clean that there’s nothing wrong with him, and who’d drop everything for the girl he loves didn’t exist (and the boyfriends I’d had over the years definitely helped me believe that). But when I saw how happy Katie was with Adam, how she gushed about him constantly, and just how happiness beamed out of her every time she was near him or talking about him, I began to realise that maybe that kind of love did exist after all. If only I could find it.

~~~

“We’re almost here, girls.” Adam announces, and I feel my stomach turning into knots. Is it too late to leap out of the car and make a run for it? But then I see Katie’s face in the rearview mirror, and I know I can’t do that to her. So I grimace and say how wonderful being so close is instead.

“So, are the three of us staying in the hotel then?” I ask, taking a gulp of my tea. I was going to book a room there myself, but Katie and Adam had told me they’d take care of accommodation, and despite my initial misgivings, I decided to trust my sister.

“Well, we actually have a surprise...” Katie begins. “We’ve done up Nana’s house, and that’s where we’ll be staying! Isn’t it great? It’s going to be such a great bonding experience!” I almost choke on my tea. Maybe I should’ve listened to my gut and just booked into the hotel after all.

“Wh-What?” I ask, spluttering a little.

“Yeah, Adam and I thought about it, and we thought it would be better. I mean, it’s cheaper for a start, and it’s so nostalgic! Getting married in the town Adam and I grew up in and staying in the house you and I grew up in!” She squeals excitedly.

“Katie, no...I didn’t even-”

“Ooh, we’re here!” Katie cuts me off and looks out her window. “Look! There’s the diner! And the library! Remember when Nana used to read to us there every day after school? Aw, it was so cute.” She grins, and I sit back in my seat, trying to avoid glancing out of the window. “And there’s the bakery! They’re making the cake for our wedding, so I know it’ll be sublime. Y/N, remember those chocolate cupcakes they have? So good right? Oooh, we should get some later for dessert babe!” She tells Adam, who nods. I should’ve known that we’d be staying in Nana’s old house. But typical me seemed to block that part out with every other thing I wanted to forget about this town. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the buildings of the town begin to fade away and become replaced by pine trees. Nana’s house was on the outskirts of town, before the forest, so I knew that we were close.

After a few more minutes, the car turns, and I hear the sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels. Nana’s house had a gravel drive, so it was obvious that we had arrived. The car stops, and we all get out. Nana’s house looked almost the same as it did when I left four years ago. The roses around the door were still there, as well as all the lavender bushes in her front garden. All that looked different was the colour of the front door. Katie did a good job. The house still looked like something out of a fairytale storybook, somewhere where seven dwarves or three bears could live comfortably for many years...or maybe where a grandmother raised her two granddaughters. But how familiar the house looked did little to quell my unwillingness to stay there.

“Good to be back, right?” Adam asks, giving me a smile. Trying to avoid showing my unhappiness, I nod and force a small smile. Thankfully, Adam doesn’t seem to notice. He walks up to Katie, picks her up, and carries her over the threshold of the house.

“No! Adam! You’re meant to do this AFTER we get married!” Katie giggles and squeals, squirming about in Adam’s arms. “Y/N, help!” she calls, disappearing into the house.

“Sorry, Katie, you’re on your own!” I call back. And then, I’m alone, staring up at the house where I spent most of my life...and where I swore I’d never go again. A cold chill spreads across my body, and I can’t tell if it’s the wind or my nerves.

It’s going to be a long three weeks.

~~~

A Few Hours Later 

I was settled into my old bedroom from when I was younger, and was laying on my bed, scrolling through my phone. Suddenly: “Knock knoooock!” A sing-song voice sounds from the other side of my bedroom door.

“Come in, Katie.”

“Aw, how’d you know it was me?” Chuckling, I open the door. Katie stands there, pouting.

“Well for a start, that’s what you did when we were kids, and you wanted to show me something...and you did it when we were teenagers too. I’m your big sister Katie. I know you.”

“You’re only two years older than me!”

“That still makes me smarter than you.” I tease, winking. Sighing, Katie laughs.

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Nope! Anyway, what’s up?”

“Nick’s almost here. We’re all going to pick him up from the train station and get dinner, so you two can get to know each other before the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Ah, it’s going to be great!” She squeals excitedly. Meanwhile, I’m just confused.

“...Nick?”

“Y/N.” Katie is suddenly more serious, which is totally unlike her. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who Nick is!” My blank stare makes her sigh. “You know, Nick!” She stresses his name like I should know it, and like I’ve committed a felony by forgetting it. But nothing springs to mind, so I stay silent. Katie huffs. “Nick is Adam’s best man. They met in college. They were roommates. He’s coming down early to help set up, and so you two can get to know each other. Sounds like you two getting to know each other is desperately needed.”

“Oh...right.” I respond, and she rolls her eyes. It was quite strange, seeing my ordinarily happy and energetic sister be so serious.

“Anyway, he’s going to be here soon, so you better get ready. And remember, you two are important parts of this wedding, AND you two are dancing together too, so please be nice to him.”

“Well, there go my plans to punch him in the face as soon as I meet him.” I joke.

“Y/N!” Katie whines. “That’s not funny! It’s my wedding at stake!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” I give her a hug. “I love you. I know how important this is to you. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

“Thanks sis.” Katie replies. “Anyway, come on, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” She orders, walking towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you! Nick’s going to be staying here too, so you’ll be seeing each other a lot more!” She announces happily.

“...He’s WHAT?!”

~~~

The sounds of the radio fill the car as the three of us sit in silence. I think the song they’re playing is by ABBA....or maybe Fleetwood Mac. Actually, I wasn’t really paying attention to whatever song was playing. Shocking, I know. Instead, I was sitting tapping my leg, waiting to see if I could notice Nick. Nick. The man  I thought I would just be dancing with at my sister’s wedding, and making pleasant conversation with, not sharing a space with for the next three weeks. I love my sister, I honestly do...but god, I wish she’d tell me things in advance sometimes.

But that’s who Katie is. She’s spontaneous, I’m not. She’s an extrovert, and I’m the introvert. She’s wild and fun...and I’m boring. In some ways, we’re polar opposites of each other. But that also draws us closer together. Yes, aside from our genetics, we weren’t that alike...but we were still sisters, and the best of friends.

“There he is! I see him!” Katie pipes up excitedly, cutting off my thoughts. She and Adam immediately get out of the car and start waving him over, leaving me in the backseat. Immediately my cheeks flush. Oh god, he’s going to have to sit next to me, isn’t he? Shit. I glance out of the window and see Nick is close by. Sighing, I decide I better get out and greet him. If I was going to be spending three weeks living with him, I better make a good first impression.

“Hi Katie!” His voice greets her, and he pulls her into a hug. “I’ve not seen you in forever!”

“I saw you like two weeks ago!” She giggles. Nick then turns to Adam, and greets him. I stand back a little, watching them. The three of them look happy and natural together. Like a proper family. While I feel like the one who doesn’t belong. The puzzle piece that doesn’t fit into this happy family dynamic. Of course, I couldn’t tell Katie that, that would make her feel even more worried, and she didn’t deserve this stress. Not now. I take a deep breath. All I need to do is make it through these three weeks until the wedding. “Nick.” Katie begins, gesturing towards me. “This is my sister Y/N, the maid of honour!” Deep breaths Y/N. You can do this. It’s just a guy. After all, it’s not like he’s a Greek God or something. And then he turns around.

His blue eyes sparkle, and he grins. “So this is the girl I’m going to dance with, huh?” He holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Nick.”

Oh my god, he’s gorgeous. What I said about him not being a Greek God? I was wrong. He looks better than that. Oh god, I’m so fucked. Oh god, he’s staring at me, and I haven’t said anything to him. I quickly grab his hand and shake it. Hopefully he doesn’t notice my sweaty palms.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nick.” I flash a smile, hoping to every god there is that I don’t have lipstick or food on my teeth.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” I...wish I could say the same. Katie really needs to tell me things in advance...including whether or not her fiancé hangs out with Greek God lookalikes.

“All good, I hope!” I chuckle awkwardly. Nick smiles again.

“All great things.” The two of us stand there, just staring at each other. Katie’s voice calls over:

“Come on, you two, I’m starving! Stop eyeballing each other and get in the car!” My eyes go slightly wide, and I quickly get into the car, desperate not to make a fool of myself, even if it seemed Katie was trying to.

“Oh, sorry Nick. Just move my bag and jacket from your seat.” I tell him as he opens his door. “Actually, just pass them over here.” He passes them over, and as I reach out to take them, our hands brush against each other. Shivers run up my spine. This isn’t normal, right? No, it isn’t. You don’t usually feel shivers up your spine when you brush hands with people you just met. That usually means something deeper....right? Nick gets in beside me, and I’m immediately aware of the smell of his cologne. He smells great. Like...really great. God, this man really is the full package, huh? Adam sets off, and I settle back into my seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“So, what’s Saint Chase like?” I hear Nick ask, causing me to look back up at him. “I’ve never been here before, so I was just wondering, like, is there any fun things to do, or any good memories? I know you and Katie grew up here, so...” He seems genuinely interested, and I have no idea what to tell him. I mean, what could I say? I’m guessing Katie didn’t tell him how desperate I was to get the hell out of the town as soon as I could.

“Well....” I begin. “To be honest, Nick, I’m not the best person to ask.” I admit. “I haven’t been back here in a while. You’d be better off asking Katie if you need a tour guide...sorry.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Nick looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything regardless. I sink back into my seat again. I mean, it wasn’t like I lied...I genuinely don’t remember much about the town...or I had just tried to block out the memories so much, it actually worked.

After another agonising car journey, the car parks outside of Saint Chase’s diner. Again, like Nana’s house, it looked like nothing had changed from what I remembered. It was almost like the town was part of its’ own little universe, where the buildings and the people in it never grew up, and neither would you if you stayed there. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but still.

Katie pushes open the door, and the woman behind the counter looks up as we walk in. Before any of us could say anything, the woman exclaims:

“OH! MY! GOD! Is that who I think it is?!” She quickly runs out from behind the counter, and up to Katie and I. “It is! It’s Rose’s granddaughters!” She pulls us both into a hug, giving us a tight squeeze. Pulling away, she looks us up and down. “Remember me? It’s Jane! God, I remember when your Grandma, god rest her soul, used to bring you in for breakfast every Saturday, ever since you were about this high Katie.” She points to her knee. Straightening back up, she looks us both over again. “Aw, you both look so much like your mother. Especially you, Y/N.” She smiles, causing a pang in my heart. She looks behind us, not noticing the sad expression on my face. “Ooooh! Are these the boyfriends?” She winks. “They’re gorgeous, good on you girls!”

“Well Jane, this is my fiancé Adam-” Katie begins, immediately getting squeals of delight, and congratulations in return. “And this is his best friend Nick, who’s the best man.”

“But we’re not dating.” I finish. Even if he was really gorgeous.

“Oh that’s right! I forgot you two are getting married here!” She sighs. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on, honestly.” She steps closer to me, and her voice drops to a whisper. “But if you’re serious about not taking him honey, let me know, and I gladly will. He’s beautiful.” She gestures toward Nick. “Anyway! Let me get you four the best seats in the house. Follow me!” She orders, and the four of us do so. Jane leads us to a booth near the back of the diner and passes over some menus. “I’ll be right back to get you some drinks.” She grins.

“Well...she seems friendly!” Nick states, making us all laugh.

~~~

Later

“So anyway, Nick is completely drenched by this point. I mean, obviously, he had fallen into a pool.”

“Pushed. I was pushed.” Nick corrects, making Katie and I laugh. Adam was telling us stories of him and Nick in college, and I was feeling a lot more comfortable. Nick was hilarious, and he seemed really sweet. Maybe sharing a house with him for three weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Anyway, that’s why I immediately pulled him into the pool with me, so he could know how it feels.” Nick finishes.

“Oh, you should’ve been there, babe. We both had white shirts on. Abs for days.” Adam tells Katie. God, of course Nick has abs. Wouldn’t expect anything else.

“Really? Maybe Y/N should’ve been there, she loves ab- ouch!” Katie begins, before I gently kick her in the shin. Adam and Nick look over, clearly concerned. “Sorry, just....bashed my leg on the table leg.” She lies, and I give her a pointed look, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“Okaaaay...anyway, we’ve told a story about our college mishaps, how about one from you two?” Nick asks. Katie furrows her eyebrows for a moment, clearly deep in thought...and then her eyes light up. Oh no. Why do I have a feeling this will end badly for me?

“Did I ever tell you two about the time Y/N almost went to a midterm in her underwear?” And there it is.

“Nonononono, we don’t need to hear this story!” I gasp, my cheeks flushing red.

“Oh I think we do.” She winks, while I hide my face in my hands. And there goes my last shred of dignity. And with it, any hopes of having Nick see me as anything other than a total mess.

~~~

That Night

I was sitting on my bed, reading. Since we had gotten home from the diner, I had retreated upstairs, changed into my pyjamas and stayed there. Mainly because I was trying to avoid Nick, and any other potential forms of embarrassment before the wedding. Maybe I could just stay in there until the wedding? Sighing, I put my book down and lean back into my pillows. Not that I was paying much attention to the book anyway. Why was I like this? I mean, yeah, of course I didn’t want to embarrass myself, especially in front of a guy, but why was I going to such lengths for Nick? Why was I so hell-bent on not embarrassing myself in front of him? There must be something about him...something...different. Of course, he’s the best man to my maid of honour in my sister’s wedding, which is obviously part of it, but it felt like there was something more there. Something I didn’t understand. A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Katie, I hope you’re here to- oh!” I gasp when I see who is on the other side of the door. Nick stands there, dressed in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants. His hair was wet from a shower, and looked slightly curly.

“Hi.” He says, his voice slightly husky, causing the shivers from before to return.

“H-Hi, Nick.” I stammer. “What can I do for you?” He doesn’t answer me, and instead passes over a steaming mug.

“We made some tea, and I thought I’d bring you a mug.” He explains.

“Thanks.” I take a sip of the tea, immediately feeling its warmth pass through me.

“Are you feeling alright?” Nick asks. “You came up right after we got back from dinner, and you’ve been up here for a while, so I was wondering if you were okay.”

“Oh...yeah I’m fine, just tired from my flight.” I lie. Nick smiles and nods.

“Yeah I get that, I think it’ll be an early night for me too.” The two of us stand there for a minute, neither of us saying anything to the other. “Nice pyjamas by the way.” Nick breaks the silence, and I glance down at my Minnie Mouse pyjamas, immediately wishing I’d brought different ones.

“Thanks.” And then, back to silence. But in a way, it was a comfortable silence, one where we didn’t have to say anything to each other, and instead, just enjoy the company of each other.

“Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” He smiles. “It was really nice to meet you today.”

“Yeah, it was.” I smile back. “Goodnight Nick.”

~~~

The Next Day

“Morning sleepy head.” Katie says through a mouthful of toast as I walk into the kitchen.

“It’s 9am. This is early for me.”

“I know, I know. Just teasing.” She laughs.

“Anyway, what do you need me to do today? What still needs doing?” I ask, reaching down to grab a slice of toast.

“Hey!” Katie swats my hand away. “And about that...” She trails off. “I’ll tell you in a sec.” I hear the noise of someone coming downstairs. I don’t even have to question who it is, as I hear:

“Morning ladies.” His voice sounds huskier than it did last night. God, what is it with him?

“Hey Nick.” We reply. “Actually Nick, I need to speak to you and Y/N.” Katie tells him as I grab a glass of water. “Adam and I were talking last night, and we had an idea for some...special wedding tasks for you two.” I raise an eyebrow, and Nick gives me a questioning look. I shake my head, symbolising I have no idea what she means. Katie clears her throat. “We thought that Y/N should show you around town, Nick!” I almost choke on my water.

“What?” I gasp.

“Yeah, I mean, it gives you two the chance to get closer, which is going to be useful for the wedding.” She explains. “And it’ll help you to get to know the town again Y/N!”

“I mean, yeah, sounds good.” Nick nods. No, it doesn’t sound good. That sounds like everything I don’t want to happen. Nick was great, but I did not want to fall back in love with this town and remember all the memories I tried so hard to forget. But then, I look into the eyes of my baby sister, and I know I can’t break her heart. Especially not before her wedding. Even if it hurts me, I sigh and nod.

“Nick’s right. It sounds good.” Katie’s face lights up.

“Thanks guys!” She pulls us both into a hug. Now I definitely can’t break her heart and say no. “You two can start today.” She grins. “But don’t keep her out too late Nick, I need her back here to help make the centrepieces later.” She winks. “Have fun.” She whispers, heading upstairs.

“So...when do you wanna start?” I ask Nick.

“Well, if you want, we could go for a walk later today?” He offers.

“Sure. Just let me get some food and get ready, then we can head out.” I tell him, and he agrees, before also heading upstairs. And then, I’m alone.

Like I said before, It’s going to be a long three weeks.

[jonghoshoe]

Just Peachy :)

@tinymingi you asked and shall recieve :)))

Summary: Moving to a new place is always a little unnerving, luckily there’s a cute, pink haired stranger who makes you feel welcome.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 1-2k words 

No content warnings apply (unless you count like one swear word)

-

Moving house sucks. Especially when it's to somewhere you don't know. Not that you aren't happy with it- it's amazing to even get a house these days. But it's hardly fun to deal with all the boxes and the unfamiliarity of a new place.

Even less fun when said boxes haven't arrived yet. Seeing nothing productive to do, you've decided to explore the area, there's a few hours to spare before everything arrives so you may as well acquaint yourself with what's around you.

That's how you ended up finding a cute little corner café 'The Aurora', what a cute title.

It's fairly small on the inside, though there are a few seating areas outside too, and it seems to be a rather quiet place as well, perfect for just relaxing, especially after all the work you've been doing the past week.

The barista who serves you is a rather bright character, you mean this literally as he has a few pink streaks in his hair that shine a little under the lights. His name is Yunho, you find out from the nametag, and he seems to pick up on you being a stranger.

''New to the town or just here?'' He asks, setting about on preparing your order.

''New to the town, I just moved in today actually- figured I'd explore while I wait for everything to arrive.''

''Nothing quite like walking around a new place huh?'' He says, plating everything up (not that there's much) before he slides it over the counter, telling you your total with a cheerful smile.

''Hey- If you ever want me to show you around I'd totally be down for it! There's a few little secret places here that you might not find on your own.'' He suggests, practically bouncing on the spot.

''Maybe once I've settled in a bit more.'' You supply, it's not that you don't want to hang out with him- He's just so cute you're already getting butterflies!

Yunho smiles and nods as you walk away to a table, choosing a smaller one by the window so you can people watch.

The following day you're a little more anxious, you'd told your friends about the cute barista in your new town and now they all wanted to come over to see him- and wanted you to take him up on his offer.

So that was the plan for today, get his number and arrange a day to go out- maybe get some work done too since you'd brought your laptop.

Or it was the plan until he decided to flirt with you, saying ''One angel cake and peach tea for the peachy angel!'' with a wink.

That really shouldn't have stopped you in your tracks, it was so incredibly cheesy but he's just so- aah. You're pretty sure you already have the wings of the angel cake in your stomach.

He teases you when you freeze in place at the words, watching humorously as you stutter out an excuse.

''Ah just- your hair! Your hair is really nice, th-the streaks are cute.'' You say, the colour draining from your face when you realise you'd accidentally called him cute.

Yunho grins and shoots back, ''You're pretty cute too, maybe you should dye yours too and we can match.'' he says with a chuckle, full of confidence despite the blush dusting his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

You nod and walk quickly to your table, face flushed red as you hear him laugh behind you.

Well that didn't go at all as planned.

There's always tomorrow, you think. Settling down to get some work done- it doesn't desperately need finished now, but since you're still unpacking, you figure you may as well work on it here. The atmosphere is nice and the menu is relatively cheap, you can see yourself coming here often already.

You're distracted when you see Yunho coming over to your table out of the corner of your eye, paper bag and a coffee in hand. He flashes you a smile as he stands by the chair opposite you, ''Mind if I sit here?'' he asks. He's so cute that even your shyness doesn't stop you nodding in confirmation.

He grins happily when he sits down, pulling out his sandwich as he glances at you from over your computer screen, ''So, watcha workin' on?'' He asks.

Your response to a simple question turns into spending his entire break talking. You talk about where you're from, how long he's lived and worked here, you find out that you have some common interests and when you tell him your new neighbourhood, he tells you a friend of his lives there too and he hopes you can meet him soon.

The day continues with that accidentally happening, because apparently he's described you both to each other so now his friend is eager to meet you.

''I'm Jongho.'' He introduces himself as, walking with you as you both exit the corner store.

Jongho is a lot more quiet than you'd expected from someone who's friends with Yunho, and you tell him just that.

''Yeah, nobody ever believes us when we tell them I'm younger. Yunho is kinda like a hyperactive puppy so people never think he's the older one.'' He says, clearly having told this story a million times over.

On the walk home, he entertains you with stories of Yunho and himself, saying how they'd met during high school and been practically joint at the hip ever since. You come to learn a lot about the both of them, and in the end, Jongho and you exchange numbers when he walks you to your house (what a gentleman). He teases you about not having Yunhos number yet, but says he won't give it to you and you'll have to ask him for it yourself.

You end the night with your friends practically yelling at you over text to make a move already, you'd like to see them try and not be stuck in place by Yunhos flirtatious remarks and cute smile!

Okay, third day here, you've literally exchanged numbers with his best friend, you are going to get Yunhos. Nothing will stop you this time!

Alright, nevermind, you can't do this. You've barely even stepped in the door and you're already smitten.

He's dressed way differently today. He's wearing a giant, baby blue sweater that he's practically drowning in and he's tied his hair up in a cute little ponytail. You're almost tempted to text Jongho and ask if he planned this to fuck with you.

Alright, he's cute but you have to make your move today, you've put this off for too long.

Your ordering goes as normal, getting the same as you always do before Yunho starts talking with you, nobody else is waiting to order so he just talks at the counter.

''So Jongho told me he met you yesterday, he said you got along well?'' He says, seemingly very excited that you'd met his friend.

You confirm, and talk about how the evening had went and the stories he'd told you.

Yunho groans and hides his face in embarrassment at one of them, ''Of all the stories, he tells you the sleepover ones.'' he whines, his face almost matches the pink streak in his hair.

Your conversation is interrupted when the very focus of it enters the building.

''Jongho! Why'd you have to go and embarrass me like that!'' Yunho complains despite already gathering up what you assume is Jonghos usual order.

''What? They asked for cute stories about you, so I told them.'' He says nonchalantly, sipping on his drink once it's handed to him.

''Well- I didn't ask for specifically cute stories-''

''Yes you did.''

You kind of want to hit Jonghos coconut head with a real one for this, he just finds it hilarious that you're both equally as embarrassed now.

''Which story made him react this way? The-'' He begins to list them off when Yunho interrupts him with 'The teddy one.'

''Ah, that's a classic. Still dunno what's so embarrassing about it though.'' He says.

Yunho huffs and punches his arm, ''It's embarrassing because I'm a fully grown man who couldn't sleep without a teddy bear and had to bring it to a sleepover!''

''San literally has his entire bed covered in them, none of us were going to think it was weird.''

''But still!''

The three of you pass the time once Yunho is finished for the day, he had a shorter shift so he's happy to spend the evening sitting and talking, and he shares embarrassing stories about Jongho as revenge.

By the time the building has to close, you all agree to go your separate ways. Yunho lives in the same street at the shop, Jongho is going to a friends house to study, and you don't quite feel comfortable enough with going to Yunhos house yet to continue the conversations.

He asks you to wait at the door before you leave though, claiming he left something in the kitchen and needs to go pick it up.

When he comes back, he's holding a little bag, which he hands to you.

''I've been wanting to try something new with one of the cupcakes- I was hoping you'd try it and let me know what you think?'' He asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

''You never said you baked.'' You say, a little surprised at the gesture.

''Ah- well I don't really bake what's on the menu, but I thought this might be an improvement so I worked on it in my free time.'' He says with a smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

You nod and reply that you'd give the snack a try, then you part ways as you exit his neighbourhood.

When you get home and finally sit down that night, you open up the bag, noticing the cupcake in a little container and a small pouch in the bag beside it.

You open the pouch first, curious to what's inside and notice a small teabag and a note.

''Y/N. I figured you'd enjoy this with your food, It's the same brand we use at The Aurora! You seem to really like it so I thought I'd give you one.''

There's a little smiley face scribbled next to it, and below is a phone number.

Well, at least you don't have to worry about asking for it now.

Setting the note aside, you finally open up the cupcake, It's an angel cake like what you ordered before, but you notice the cream is tinted a little bit orange. Upon tasting it, you realise it's peach flavoured, matching the tea you'd usually drink with it.

You decide to finally message Yunho, sending a quick hello and thanking him for the gift.

Yunho: So, what do you think of it?

You: It’s just peachy :)

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (1) Bang Chan: Perfection

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Bang Chan

Genre: Light angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3,300+

Summary: Bang Chan can’t afford to take breaks in this industry. 

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/n: This is the beginning of an 8 part Stray Kids hurt/comfort series!! I hope that you will all enjoy this a lot :) also writing this sort of theme about Chan absolutely killed me because this man deserves the entire world ;-;

TW: This story contains a descriptive anxiety attack.

Through the blurry, sleepy view his eyes gave him, Bang Chan could barely make out the small, digital clock on his desk that read 3:14. He groaned softly as he resumed his work on what was soon to be Stray Kids’ next title track. 

Normally, Chan considers himself a person who is able to work fast and diligently at the same time, which often comes in handy in an industry that demands perfection. Yet, as he sat slouched in his desk chair, fiddling with his laptop to try and create a proper bass line, he began to feel pressured. 

For a producing idol, having writer’s block was a death sentence. Nothing had the power to overwhelm Chan with the heavy feeling of anxiety like a deadline for a demo due at the end of the week which has barely been started.

It’s not that the song hasn’t been started, it’s that it has been started and restarted too many times to count after Chan deemed the previous draft unacceptable. Chan’s standards for himself might seem overkill to some people, but Chan calls it being a perfectionist. 

Everyone, including Bang Chan knows that real perfection was not possible for a man to achieve, however that didn’t stop Chan from striving for it. In a way, it was a blessing and a curse. Being a perfectionist meant that Chan was never finished with anything until he was one hundred percent proud of it. This demo was not an exception. 

As Chan listened to the basic beats he had recorded already, he began to drift out of consciousness. 

He had to finish the track. He was so tired. Maybe if he took a twenty minute nap he would feel better. No, he would just end up sleeping all night. Wake up. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep.

He was yanked out of his dreamy state by the harsh sound of his phone vibrating on his desk. He took a second to gather his surroundings before checking the text message sent to him. 

Changbinnie: Where are you?

Chan groaned. Changbin has been on his ass all week about taking care of himself as if he was made of glass. Changbin should know that this was how Chan worked. He always pushes himself to his breaking point and faces the brink of exhaustion in order to create the best music he could. There was no other way for him to make music. 

Channie: Studio

Chan cracked his back against his chair before getting back to work. It was only three in the morning, which was hardly late enough for Chan to admit defeat and give into his drooping eyelids. 

He didn’t get it. Music always came so easily to him. All of the lyrics he tried to write sounded too awkward for his liking. All of the beats were too overdone and basic. He was frustrated and tired, and far too busy to deal with Changbin’s nagging. 

Sure, Chan hasn’t been around for many meals during the past few days. Lord knows he hasn’t seen the inside of the dorm in three days straight unless it was to shower and change. Chan scoffed thinking of how he would react if it was one of the other members working to this extent. He would physically restrain them to their beds if that was necessary. He was different, though. He was the leader and the eldest. He didn’t have the time to worry about himself. He was responsible for all of their careers. He could handle a little bit of extra work. 

His hands were shaking slightly as he recorded another chord progression for the pre-chorus. At this point, Chan didn’t even know if they were shaking from exhaustion or from the sheer amount of caffeine he had coursing through his system. 

Chan let out another exasperated noise of defeat as he listened to the choppy way the verse led into the pre-chorus. He felt the frustration take right to his heart. His head was pounding, and he gripped the strands of his hair to ground himself. 

He was okay. He had pulled songs out of his ass before, he could do it now. It was going to be fine. Maybe if he added a lead-up sound into the pre-chorus, things would flow nicer. 

Why did he feel his eyes filling up with tears? He had no time to feel sorry for himself. Nothing was working out, and crying about it wouldn’t change the fact that his head was completely empty of original song ideas. 

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands before focusing again on the track in front of him. 

He hadn’t even started on the lyrics. 

The sense of panic was far too strong, and his mind was screaming for him to buck up, focus harder, create something that was acceptable. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts again by the sound of his studio door opening. 

“You’re going to kill yourself, I hope you know,” Changbin said quietly as he made his way over to his usual chair beside Chan. 

Chan tried to give a somewhat interested look to the younger rapper, but all he could manage was a slight head nod. He was still focused on the colourful lines of beats and chords on his laptop. He refrained from looking directly at the younger boy, not wanting to show any signs of the intense feelings that crushed his chest. 

“Jesus christ, you actually look like shit,” Changbin grabbed Chan’s chin gently and brought his gaze towards away from the track which was causing so much grief, “why are you doing this?” Chan’s gaze remained unfocused, looking at nothing in particular.

Chan took a second to process what he was saying. Why was he doing this? Because it was his job. Because the company, the members and the fans were all waiting for him to do his job properly. 

He wanted to say all of that, but what came out from his lips was “I have to”.

“That’s bullshit,” Changbin said, “I’ve been warning you about taking care of yourself-- Chan you’re shaking”. He moved to grab a hold of Chan’s trembling fingers. “You haven’t been eating, you haven’t been sleeping, you are a shell of yourself, and for what?” 

“For our jobs, Binnie” Chan pulled his hands away from the other boy, turning himself back towards the screen. He didn’t want the younger to see the fresh pool of salty tears threatening to fall down his cheeks without consent. 

Changbin sighed. “You’re more important than a deadline. You know that, right?” 

“What do you want me to do?” Chan asked, “I'm okay”. His voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper. 

Chan didn’t need to look over to know that Changbin was thoroughly upset. Whether it was with him or the company, Chan didn’t know. All he knew was that when something upset Changbin, the aura of the room shifted. The air felt heavy and thick. 

“I’m worried about you,” Changbin said, placing his hand on Chan’s shoulder. The older boy involuntarily flinched at the unexpected contact. “I woke up in the middle of the night to see that you aren’t in your bed again, and I just don’t know what to do anymore,”

“Don’t”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be worried about me,” Chan swiveled in his chair to finally meet Changbin’s gaze for the first time that night, “it’s not your issue,” He was expecting frustration, anger or fury, but he was startled when all he could read in his brother’s eyes was shock and sadness.

“You don’t...” he trailed off, “you don’t sound like yourself...” Changbin slowly raised himself out of his chair. He was avoiding Chan’s eyes. 

“All you’re doing is distracting me,” Chan accused, “I can handle myself, I don’t need you worrying about me like my mother,” 

Changbin’s entire body was stiff. He looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but couldn’t. 

Why couldn’t he see that this was what Chan needed? Why couldn’t he see that this was best? Why did he have to stick his nose in everybody’s business like he has any say in their activities? 

“You should leave now,” Chan said coldly, “I have to get back to work,” 

Changbin hesitated for a moment, seemingly mulling over what his next words should be. 

“You’re upset that you are having trouble with a song... Big deal,” Changbin said, still quietly, but with so much more bite to his tone, which shocked Chan. “We have an entire group of kids at home who need their leader. You think that they don’t feel anxious these days? We all feel stressed, Chan” 

“Bin-” 

“These children look up to you because you’re a damn good leader,” Changbin began moving anxiously around the room, “they see their... role model throwing his health away for a song, and they think that should be the standard. It is sick, and it shouldn’t have to go that far,” 

Chan felt the pressure in his head return at the words Changbin was saying. “You don’t have any right to bring them into this--”

“You know I found out Jeongin’s been skipping meals?” Changbin’s voice was steadily rising. His face was darkening with frustration that was hidden earlier.

Chan sat in stunned silence. Jeongin has been skipping meals? For how long? Why didn’t Chan realize this before? Was he sick? Did he need a councelor? Was he self conscious? 

Before Chan got a chance to ask any of these questions, Changbin continued on his rant. 

“All of the kids are stressed because that’s what happens before a comeback! I don’t give a damn if you want to ruin yourself for your music, because I get it. I do too. But I am not going to let you create a bad example for the kids. I can’t and I won’t,” 

Chan finally found the strength in his legs to stand up and look at Changbin face to face. He could see that Changbin was furious by the fire in his eyes and the red colour that was taking over his skin. 

“You have no right how to tell me to live, you don’t know what being the leader is like!” Chan snapped, shoving his finger into Changbin’s rapidly rising and falling chest, “I am doing this for the kids, okay?” 

“If you honestly cared about them,” Changbin shoved Chan back away from him, causing the leader to stumble before gaining his balance on his desk chair, “you would make sure that they knew their health always comes first. This is a dangerous game, Chan! And sooner or later you are going to lose,”

“I think you should leave,” Chan said for the second time that night. He had enough. This was all so that Stray Kids could be the best group they can be, yet Changbin is acting like Chan is a maniac for being a perfectionist. 

Changbin was stunned. “Be that way.” he mumbled before ultimately leaving the studio. Before ultimately leaving Chan alone. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the younger boy, Chan muffled his screams of frustration with his hands. The tears that have been on edge for a while now began streaming down his face, making tracks that felt like they burned the soft skin. 

He was mad. No, mad was an understatement. He was upset. Furious. Angry. Pissed off. Hysterical. Any of those synonyms could describe the feelings that Chan felt. His head was pounding, and the pressure was back worse than ever. 

He felt guilty because Changbin was right. He didn’t even notice that Jeongin wasn’t eating. He didn’t deserve to be a leader. He should quit. He should go to the company and tell them he failed. 

Chan began pacing around the room, suddenly feeling like the walls were too small. 

His gaze fell on the small, white laptop that was causing his pain, and he felt white hot anger and frustration. With a cry of anguish, he slammed the screen shut. 

He pulled at his hair so forcefully he wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped from his scalp. His chest felt so tight. 

The laptop. He shut it so hard... What if he shattered the screen? With a whimper, he raised the screen up to see that it was still in good condition. The contents of the screen however, were not. 

Chan felt the air leave his lungs when he saw he got bounced out of the software. He felt like his world was crashing down around him. 

With shaky hands, he moved the mouse to open the software again. Chan prayed to whatever deity there was up there that he didn’t just lose all of the progress that he most definitely didn’t press save for. 

The one attempt of a song that Chan didn’t hate ended up deleting from his laptop, never to fully develop into a proper song. 

That was the final straw for Chan. 

All at once, it seemed like the Earth’s supply of oxygen vanished. His hands flew desperately to his hair in an attempt to pull himself out of the spiral he was in. 

He was full on sobbing, clutching his knees to his chest once his legs gave out from under him. He struggled for breath on his studio floor. He was so tired. He wanted to sleep so bad. 

It felt like his body was being compressed, and he didn’t know how to save himself. He felt hopeless and weak, crying over some stupid lost progress. His world was shattering. 

Your work is gone.

Changbin hates you.

Jeongin isn’t eating because of you.

The members don’t want you as their leader.

The fans know you’re a fraud.

You’re a horrible idol.

You don’t deserve to be here.

These thoughts were ringing in Chan’s ears, bouncing around his skull. Chan cried out again, burying his face into the carpet, trying to breathe. 

He needs help, but he doesn’t deserve it. He brought this on himself, and now he’s actually compelled to inconvenience another person with this. The track was gone, his members hated him, and he was broken. 

Chan’s entire forehead was slick with sweat, and he felt his body tremble. He was a weak, worthless fool. He was clawing at any part of him that he could. He felt so weak and alone, sobbing his heart out on the floor. 

He didn’t know exactly how long he spent curled up in a ball beside his desk before he was able to calm his heart rate down enough to process thoughts. He needed someone. He needed someone badly, but the weight of shame kept him seated against the wall. 

He wanted to call Changbin and apologize so badly, but with how immature and selfish he had been acting, Chan didn’t deserve the kindness and support the younger boy would inevitably give him. The guilt of how he treated the other boy began to eat away at the shame. 

With a spinning head, Chan hoisted himself upwards enough to grab his phone from the top of his desk. The time on the screen read 4:53, and Chan desperately hoped that Changbin was still awake. 

Without hesitating enough to psyche himself out, Chan pressed the “call” icon, and waited. He tried to slow down his breathing enough so that Changbin wouldn’t know he was crying. 

“What do you want?”

Chan was startled at Changbin’s greeting, almost stuttering his response. “I... I’m sorry,” was all that Chan could manage to say. 

“You should be,” 

Chan cringed at the bitterness in the other’s voice, but remained calm. “Can you come?” Chan’s voice was shaking slightly, and there was a beat of silence from the other end of the line. 

“Are you crying?” 

“No,” Chan denied, biting down on his closed fist in a sad attempt to stifle the sounds that were threatening to escape from his throat.

“Are you okay? Fuck I was almost home, but I’m coming back, okay? Just wait for me,” 

Chan felt another set of hot tears trail down his cheeks, which sucked because he thought he didn’t have any more tears left in him. He wanted Changbin to come back to him, but not because he was afraid that Chan couldn’t handle simple emotions. “Okay,” he answered, and as soon as he felt the tightness in his throat, he hung up the call. Changbin didn’t need to hear him sob. 

Chan felt himself start to slip into his spiral again, and slapped himself in the cheeks. He needed it to ground himself. 

Just breathe. 

Chan counted all of the breaths that he took until Changbin came. He tensed up once he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and a face next to his. He was expecting Changbin to be mad, however the boy keeps surprising him. 

There were faint wrinkles of worry on Changbin’s forehead as he held a serious gaze with the blubbering boy in front of him. His touch was irritating to Chan, who shrugged the hand off his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin whispered, trying to meet Chan’s eyes. 

Chan raised his eyes. “Why are you sorry?” he asked, sniffling and rubbing the tears away from his abused and stinging eyes. Changbin didn’t have anything to apologize for; it was Chan who was stupidly self-destructive. 

Changbin moved so that he was sitting beside Chan, his back against the studio wall. “I was too harsh. I should have been more patient, I know you’re stressed,” he sighed. Of course Changbin had to be an angel. 

“You... you were right,” Chan admitted. 

“Bang Chan? Admitting I’m right?” Changbin teased, “that’s a first,”

Chan playfully shoved Changbin, and then moved to rest his head on the younger’s shoulder. The atmosphere was lighter now that Changbin was there to relieve the pain. 

“I should have been a better leader,” Chan whispered, “I’m sorry,” 

Changbin surely didn’t miss the way his voice faltered at the end of his statement. Chan felt his eyes get heavier, the post-panic attack fatigue getting to him. 

“You’re a fucking amazing leader,” Changbin replied, “I’m sorry for being harsh. Although I am not sorry about telling you off for setting a bad example because I know that you can do better,”

“’S fair,” Chan slurred. 

“Look at me,” Chan gave a half-hearted, half-interested moan, “Christopher, I said look at me,” Changbin commanded, grabbing Chan’s chin and bringing it to his face, “You are perfect.” 

Chan searched Changbin’s eyes for lies, but was met with nothing but the sincerity of a best friend. 

“You are perfection. And I know that whatever you end up doing is going to be perfect,” 

Chan smiled at his friend. Even though he could be annoying and naggy, Changbin was always there to pick him up. He was always able to wipe the dirt off of your face when you fell from the high. He didn’t pass judgments. 

Chan was stuck in his thoughts until the realization of his reality hit him like a freight train. “Fuck,” he said as he pulled his face away. 

“What?”

“The song...” he said, grasping at his desk until he was in a standing position and opening his laptop again. 

Changbin stood up too and sighed. “I thought you were going to take it easier from now on,” he whined.

“Fuck no, Changbin,” he said, tiredness still evident in his tone, “it’s gone,”

“It’s gone?” Changbin pulled his seat beside Chan, focusing on the newly opened blank track Chan started. 

Chan just nodded as he tried to remember how the song goes. Okay, it was 120bpm tempo... What were the chords that made up the verse? What was the instrument? How did the beat go? 

Chan groaned in frustration as he racked his brain. 

“We’ve done this before,” Changbin shoved Chan so that he could get a better view of the laptop. 

“Huh?” 

“You, me and Jisung,” Changbin looked concentrated, “we’ve produced songs in hours. I’m sure we could get something done if we worked together,”

Chan smiled, probably for the first time in days. “I would like that a lot,” he said gratefully. 

It was then that Chan realized that maybe some some people could be perfect after all. 

[moon-yeongjun]

The Gay Cousin Pt. 1 || Moon Bros

Summary: Jun and Tae’s cousins from Canada zoom in... and reveal a pretty shocking secret! 

TW: anxiety, thoughts/mentions of homophobia (no actual homophobia expressed) 

@moon-yeongtae

JUN: A couple of times a year, the Moon family skyped the other Moon family. It happened only on your standard occasions: Chuseok and Christmas. Much more common were phone calls to Eomma’s extended family still living in Korea-- her cousins and aunts and uncles, most of whom Jun had never met. 

But the other Moons-- his father’s younger brother’s family who had immigrated as well, but to Canada, not England. Well, they were like Santa Claus. Or a unicorn. Popped up, said hi, sent cards but only over email. In fact, there were times they could not work out the time difference between Toronto and Swynlake and so they missed the Skype call. 

But not these days. Oh no, these days, ever since Abeoji died, Eomma was making a real effort to keep in touch with Nam-seok and his two sons. Whether it was out of guilt or maybe her way of feeling closer to her late husband, Jun didn’t know. 

He also didn’t argue though when she told all the Moons that it was Jacob’s birthday in a few days and they were going to Skype him from his new apartment. 

“After church, this Sunday, so no plans!” Eomma said fiercely to all of them, waving a knife in the air. She glared more fiercely at Star, who was truly going through the rebellious-teen-phase on behalf of both goody-two-shoes Sky and eager-to-please Sunny, and was texting at the table. 

“But Eomma, I was going to go over to Janet’s--”

“No. Jacob emailed me, eh? We’re doing it. No excuse.” 

And so now it was Sunday, at 2:26 p.m., which was 9:26 a.m. in Toronto, which seemed pretty early for a 25-year-old (and shouldn’t he be going to church too? Jun was not going to point this out to Eomma, for Jacob’s sake). They gathered around Jun’s laptop as he logged onto Zoom, which was much better than Skype, he told Eomma. 

“Agh, your butt is too big, Star!” yelped Sunny behind. Sunny and Star were fighting for Jun’s nice desk chair, trying to shove each other off with their hips. 

“I called it!” 

“Aish, girls!” Eomma snapped. “Sky, put the book down.” 

“We’re not even on yet?” Sky huffed, not lowering her book. 

Jun rolled his eyes and glanced at Tae. Who knew that Tae would be the best behaved of his siblings? Not him. Though, his brother was almost 18 now, so maybe his bad attitude really was just a symptom of those early teens, like the girls now. 

Just then, his screen began to ring. “Yah, he’s calling!” Jun announced. 

Eomma ripped the book from Sky’s hands. “Okay everyone, be nice or I’ll kill you!” 

The next moment, his cousin appeared: Jacob with his big grin, which immediately reminded Jun of Tae. But that was about the only resemblance. Jacob was blond now! Aish! A second after, his other cousin leaned in onto the screen: Kevin, with his hipster glasses, wearing a beanie even though it was spring there, unruly hair poking out. Too long, thought Jun. What was with kids these days and growing their hair so long? “Yooooooo, Moon fam, hi!” Kevin said. 

“Gomo, hello hello!” sweet Jacob said, waving both his hands. “How’s everyone doing?” 

TAE: 

When Tae was younger, he used to wish he belonged to the other part of the Moon family. It wasn't because he hated his life or anything even though he sort of did sometimes (at least back then), it was because they just seemed so much cooler! Like right now his cousins were smiling so big and Jacob had dyed his hair blonde! Tae had a feeling that if he tried to dye his hair blonde his eomma would try to slap some sense into him with a kitchen spoon! Ha! 

"We're great," Tae said, leaning closer to the screen and blocking his sisters' view of the screen and smiling big in return. They didn't need to see anyway. 

Predictably, though, the second he was fully in the way he felt shoving at his back. 

"Oppa you're in the way! We can't see!" 

"You don't need to see anyway," he said and laughed when Star yanked him backward by the shirt. "I like your hair! How long did it take to turn it blond?" 

"Like, a long time," Jacob said with a laugh. "It looks good though so it was worth it." 

"Maybe I'll do it next," Tae said and smiled really big. "Eomma will help me, right, Eomma?"

JUN: 

Aish, was Tae trying to pick a fight? He took back what he was thinking about one minute earlier: Tae had not grown out of his annoying teenager phase at all. He was still in it, a troublemaker to the end. Because he knew! Oh he knew, he heard the fights between Star and Eomma as Star pushed and pushed. It had taken her almost a full six months to convince Eomma to let her and Sunny dye bleach their hair in the first place. And she’d not even asked about the blue colour, just showed up, tossing those locks and letting Eomma lose her mind. 

Remember what Eomma had just said too? Behave. Picking a fight in front of their cousins was not behaving. 

“I think Star has more experience with that,” said Jun swiftly, so Eomma did not have to answer. Eomma nodded, not adding anything else, which Jun knew was because she did not like the idea of Tae-- any of her children-- dying their hair at all. 

“Yes! Girl, I saw your Insta pics, that blue was so cute!” Jacob said. 

“Fire!” Kevin added, putting his hand to his mouth like a megaphone. 

Star preened. “Thanks! It was super hard to manage though and like, washed out to this ugly green colour.” 

“Right, yeah, I get that,” said Jacob. “So what’s everyone doing?”

“No, you tell us about you, you are both so busy,” Eomma interrupted with a smile. “I see Jacob’s graduation pictures?”

“Right, yes! I finished my Masters in Music Ed,” said Jacob. “Kevin’s still working on his degree, he’ll be done in like no time though. And then I just moved here! Ahh, first place of my own! Well, not like on my own, on my own, but you know--” 

Eomma clapped her hands lightly. “That’s so wonderful! So responsible. You have a job?” 

“Um, yes, but not actually teaching music yet!” Jacob laughed. “I’m just like, working in a restaurant right now.” 

“Music is a very hard degree to find a job for,” said Jun. Then flinched as he felt Eomma pinch him. He shot her a confused look. What! It was! Who could get a degree in music education and expect to make real money?! 

“Haha, yeah it is but like, I just graduated so I mean, I’ll be interviewing for stuff for next school year.” Jacob went on like he didn’t notice. “But so wait, no, everyone tell me what’s up! Tae, aren’t you going to uni soon?” 

TAE:

Tae's smile fell for a moment before he could control himself but he quickly recovered, pasting it back in place. The thing was, theoretically? Yes, Tae was supposed to be going to uni soon. Actually, he was supposed to be going to uni next year if everything had gone the way it was supposed to, but he was a giant failure of a human being and had to repeat an entire year. 

He didn't really want to get into all of that, obviously, so he just kind of smiled and nodded. "I still have one more year before I have to get into that, but yeah, I can already tell that year is going to go by fast."

There, that was much easier than talking about how he felt like an utter failure and like he was too stupid to ever get into any uni, right? Perfect! 

"Jun-hyung is really doing great with the store, too! We actually have employees now and he's even dating one of them." 

He looked over to his hyung with s little wince, hopeful that Jun would take pity on him and not kill him later. 

I'm sorry, he tried to communicate with his eyes. I just can't talk about uni. 

JUN: 

Now this wasn't fair. Why should Jun have to suffer because Tae was irresponsible and lazy and didn't study enough or own up to his choices???! 

Okay, maybe that was putting it all a little harshly but Jun was not feeling very forgiving when Tar mentioned the g word. 

Girlfriend. 

His cousins were going to gobble that up, two hungry hyenas scenting gossip.

And sure enough, both Kevin and Jacob gasped. 

"Yooooooooo no way! But wait-- wait wait, what about Tiffany?" exclaimed Kevin. 

" They broke up! Kevin that was in Gomo's Christmas email! I'm sorry Gomo, I swear he read it--" 

"Course I read it, I just forgot! Tiffany was around forever!" 

"Anyway, this new girl? Tell us about her!" Jacob beamed. 

Jun would rather not. He would rather do anything but talk about Haru. He needed to say something fast though or else-- 

Already too late. Jun's one second grimace opened the window for Eomma. 

"Oh she's wonderful! Her name is Haru, she is Japanese but very beautiful! Very polite and friendly and she goes to church--" 

Jun cleared his throat. "Yes, we are still getting to know each other. It's new." 

"Well she has worked for us for a year, that isn't very new--" Star said with a smirk like the traitor she was. 

"Don't you want to show us your new place, Jacob?" interrupted Jun maybe a little desperately, who could say! 

"Oh yeah, Zoom tour!" Kevin flashed rock our signs. 

"Definitely! I was just hoping we could wait for--" Jacob turned at that moment. "Did you hear that? Oh I think he's here! Wait just one minute everyone!" Jacob waved a hand and then scurried out of the room. 

Kevin leaned in to the screen. "Soooooo… anyone else got any hot significant others, hmmm? Star-- Tae, my man??"

TAE:

“Ha,” he blurted, and then instantly he panicked and shut his mouth. 

Tae had literally been about to say he had the hottest one. It had been right there on the tip of his tongue, because any chance to talk about how hot Nemo was was something he wanted to take advantage of. Then he remembered that most of his family had absolutely no idea he was gay and if his eomma knew that about him she’d probably tell him he was going to hell. 

This zoom call was quickly turning into a nightmare. Not only was he forced to think about how dumb he was, now he had to think about how closeted he was too. He wanted to leave, but he couldn’t, so he sat there and tried to keep a smile on his face while Star babbled on about someone in her class and all her boyfriends or whatever she was talking about. 

If Tae had been panicking a little bit less, he might’ve caught it. He might’ve been able to prepare himself for what he was about to see because all the hints were there. No one was trying to hide anything at all. 

Jacob had clearly said he’s here and then right after that, Kevin had asked if anyone else had any hot significant others. So yeah, Tae should’ve been prepared when Jacob walked back into the frame holding an unfamiliar boy’s hand. 

He should’ve been prepared, but he wasn’t. 

In fact, when he saw Jacob walk back into the frame, everything around him went black and he stopped breathing while he gripped his chair so hard his fingers hurt. He was going to pass out. 

Tae looked over at his eomma, trying to read her expression, but all he saw was a blank stare. 

“Tae!” 

Tae blinked and the world filled back in around him. Star was pushing at his back and giggling. “Aren’t you going to say hi? Jacob is introducing his boyfriend!” 

“Right, sorry! Hey, it’s nice to meet you,” Tae said with a respectful little bow of his head. 

JUN: 

From Jun’s point of view, it went like this: 

“Star’s flirting with like six different guys right now,” Sky spoke for the first time, right after Tae’s very strange squeak. Jun met Sky’s eyes for a beat, his own eyebrows furrowing down for a moment. Did Sky…? But he thought only Sunny--

“Oh my god, am not,” groaned Star. “Sides, Eomma won’t let me date yet anyway.” 

“You’re too young,” said Eomma. “Whoever these boys are too, stop flirting with them--”

“I’m not flirting! I’m friends with them. You won’t let me go out with Tyler--”

“Ooooh, who’s Tyler?” said Kevin, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“A friend,” said Star, looking very pointedly at Eomma. 

And this was when the door opened and Jacob returned with another boy. He looked Korean, maybe-- was he Korean?-- with short black hair and thick-framed, stylish glasses. He carried coffees with him and a large, friendly smile. But that smile was nothing compared to his cousin’s. His cousin’s smile had crinkled his eyes into precious rainbows and he squeezed the boy’s arm once--

And Jun knew, right before Jacob said anything, but not fast enough to suddenly smash his hand on the keyboard and instantly disconnect them. The panic seized his throat. 

“Gomo, everyone, I wanted you guys to meet my boyfriend. This is David!”

“Hey everyone, I’ve heard so much about you,” said this David as he pulled up a chair. He grinned again, leaning closer to the screen. “Seriously, Jacob is always talking about his cool British cousins.” 

“Wait, I’m screaming!” squealed Star (not actually screaming). “You have a boyfriend?”

“It’s nice to meet you!” piped in Sunny, and Sky echoed her, “Nice to meet you!” 

Jun, meanwhile, was trying not to look at Tae, but could not help himself. And so he kept jumping his eyes around like he was following the path of a fly in the air. Look up, look to the side, look at the mouse, okay, look at Tae--!

Tae looked like he’d been punched in the face.

Eomma looked like she was listening to some very serious news. 

“Yes, very good to meet you,” said Eomma finally, after Tae had spoken too. She smiled very politely. “How do you know Jacob?” 

“We went to school together,” said David. “Undergrad, I mean.”

“We started dating our third year,” added Jacob. His knee was bouncing, Jun could see it on the screen. Ah, so he was nervous too. Good, he should be, he might have just exploded the Moon families forever! This was sabotage! What was he thinking?! “So it’s our third year together. So we decided to get a place. He’s great,” Jacob gushed. “I mean, totally genius level smart, he works at an engineering firm.” 

“Yeah, David’s awesome,” chimed in Kevin. 

“What do your parents do?” asked Eomma. 

“They’re both teachers actually,” said David. “That’s how they met, uh, in their PhD programs. My mom mostly does after school tutoring in sciences, but my baba’s a professor at McGill.” 

“Oh, very impressive,” said Eomma. She pressed her lips together. Jun was staring at her; he could not look away. “And has David met your appa and eomma, Jacob?” 

“Yes,” said Jacob with a nod. “Yes, yeah. That’s one of the reasons I wanted you guys to meet him too, you know? We’ve just been dating so long it felt silly at some point, haha!” 

TAE:

Tae was having a heart attack. 

They’d learned all about it in school--the sweaty palms, the shortness of breath, the unbearable pain in the left side of the chest. He was absolutely going to die right here in this chair while talking to his cousins from Canada. Or he was going to puke. One of those two things was going to happen and it was the most important thing in the world that he not give any of that away with his face. He had to remain still. He had to remain stoic. He was not allowed to talk. 

He heard everything Jacob was saying. They’d been dating for a long time. They’d been together so long, actually, that Jacob’s new apartment was actually Jacob and David’s new apartment and his parents knew all about it and they still loved him. They loved him enough for Jacob to think it was a good idea to introduce David to their family. 

Their very traditional, Christian family. 

Yep. 

Tae was actually dying. 

The screen in front of him started to waver. Actually, the whole room kind of looked a little misty, and Tae realized there were tears in his eyes. His Eomma was barely moving. She was talking, but they were like short little clipped sentences and Tae was so afraid of what she was going to say when they ended the call. He didn’t want to hear it. 

Slowly, Tae looked over at Jun, his eyes big and pleading. He didn’t know what he wanted his hyung to do, but he needed to get out of this. He didn’t want to be here anymore. 

A hand, small and warm, was suddenly covering his where he was gripping the chair with all his strength and he looked down to see it was Sunny. She’d leaned forward just a little to reach him and Tae had to cough to cover what sounded suspiciously like a sob. Ha.

He couldn’t think about David meeting his aunt and uncle. He couldn’t think about how cute it probably was and how much they probably loved their son’s boyfriend. If he did, he’d start wondering if it would ever happen for him. 

He’d start thinking about bringing Nemo over to his eomma and telling her they were dating. He’d start imagining how happy she would be for them and how supportive she would be when he said they were going to move in together. He’d start daydreaming about what it would be like to live with Nemo and how happy he would be because his family could come visit them and they could cook dinner and entertain and--

He pulled his hand away from Sunny’s and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

JUN: 

Tae looked at Jun the way he used to when he was just a kid. It had been a long time since Jun had seen that sweet boy in his brother’s face. Those big eyes, that nervous lip. He was five years old and crying about his scabbed knees. He was six and begging Jun for chocolates. He was seven and teary-eyed as he struggled with his maths homework, Jun sitting with him at the kitchen table.

And Jun wished he were the hyung he had been all those years ago-- bad hair and acne but all the time in the world to answer to his brother’s needs. He’d once been a superhero, the smartest person Tae ever knew! There was nothing he could not fix!

But this. 

This was Tae, eight years old, asking him not to go away to university. That had been the first time that Jun had ever broken a promise and let his brother down. 

And here he was again. He stared back helplessly. What could he do, eh? Stop the call abruptly? Make an excuse for Tae that wouldn’t upset Eomma? Turn back time, call his cousin, tell him that coming out was a bad idea?

And was it?

Jun could not say. Eomma was not causing a scene. She had not shut down. She was not as happy as before, but maybe it was a shock, or maybe the slight had nothing to do with Jacob bringing a boyfriend, and instead it was about him bringing anyone at all to a family call. 

Jun would just have to wait and see. 

And so he sat there. Just like Tae sat there. He sat there, failing his brother all over again. 

“Well I think that’s all super awesome!” blurted Sunny, proving to be more useful than Jun. “Maybe we could visit you guys one day!” 

“Totally!” said Jacob.

“Oh yeah, the first ever Moon family reunion!” said Kevin as he pumped his fist. “Man, we’d gotta get some of the O-G Moons.” 

“O-G?” David snorted. 

“He’s talking about the real Koreans,” said Jacob. “In Korea.” 

“You... are real Koreans--” David started. 

“Point is, all the Moons!” Kevin said. “One day! Would be fun.” 

Jun could only nod and press his lips together. At least they were not talking about David anymore, not really, eh? Best keep it that way. Maybe that was what Jun could do. “So eh, you wanted to give  a tour of the apartment?” He prompted. 

The rest of the call was mostly that. Jacob walked them around their place. They had been in the spare room, which was mostly an ‘office’, but Jun saw the massive computer screen and knew it was a gaming computer, mhm. And then there was a rather new kitchen, brand new appliances, David bragged. David also talked a lot about some of the apartment complex amenities, the on-site gym, a movie theater big enough for a group of say, eight to ten. He was proud, Jun saw that-- it was an expensive place, and no doubt he was covering most of it for Jacob. Jun wondered about that aspect of their relationship, he wondered if Jacob really was ready for it all, only 25 years old, on the cusp of his start of career, to depend on someone else… 

And then the bedroom, which they did not spend much time in, because they wanted to show the bathroom with its nice sized tub.

And then the balcony, which had a nice view of Toronto. Star sighed dreamily. “I wanna live in a city like that one day!” 

And then they all said their goodbyes. “This was so fun, I’m so glad you guys could call in,” said gentle, naive Jacob. He did not seem to suspect anything. Maybe he was hiding it. Maybe not. 

Eomma stood up first as the Zoom ended. “He is doing very well,” she said. “What a beautiful place to live, eh? See, this is what happens when you study hard.” She looked at Tae sternly. 

“Tae, I need your help!” Jun blurted at that moment, slapping the arm of his chair and making his sisters flinch. “With-- there’s-- the thing, you know, I told you to do this morning. You didn’t do it.” 

TAE:

The second his hyung spoke, Tae jumped out of his chair and nodded, heading to the back door where he kept his mud boots. He couldn’t breathe. The air in their house had gotten too thick  and every time Tae tried to take a breath it stuck in his lungs, gummy and wet. 

His eomma hadn’t looked happy. In fact, she hadn’t looked much of anything, her face kind of a blank slate, and Tae’s brain had absolutely no problem projecting all of his fears onto that blank slate. She’d been disgusted. She’d been upset, mad, disappointed. 

That last one really was the worst one for Tae. 

Pulled his boots up over his jeans and stomped down the stairs, heading toward the barn with one thought swirling through his head over and over and over. You’re already such a disappointment, and when she finds out you’re gay that’ll be the last straw. 

It was true, though, wasn’t it? He’d failed a grade. Now, the second time he’d done this school year, he was passing, but just barely. He was stupid. He was a giant idiot and his eomma knew that. That’s why she’d taken that dig at him, told him that if he studied hard he could have a nice apartment like Jacob. 

Tae hated Jacob. 

Well, no, he didn’t hate Jacob, but the jealousy burned through his bones and left him shaking and empty, barely able to stand. Wait. He wasn’t standing. 

Tae looked down at his hands and found them covered in dirt. He was on his knees behind the chicken coop, his chest heaving as his heart attack finally caught up with him. He was going to die. It was kind of a relief actually, because now he wouldn’t have to come out to his eomma at all. He’d just die and be buried in a cute little grave and she could cry and say he’d had so much potential and maybe she’d even believe it because he hadn’t lived long enough for her to see how wrong she was. 

He should probably call Nemo before he died, his brain offered up, but he’d left his phone in the house and it was probably better this way anyw--

A loud, rasping sound caught Tae’s attention and he looked around, his eyes wide and wet, until he realized it had come from him. 

“I can’t,” he was saying. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” 

JUN: 

Tae hopped up right away. Good, good, that was what Jun wanted. Jun could not follow his brother as quickly though, caught in the dynamics of the Moon women before he could escape. This mostly consisted of Star gripping at his arm and saying, “Junnie oppaaaa, you need to post a picture of you and Haru on Instagram, so Jacob can see her!” 

“I don’t have a personal Instagram,” Jun said and tried to drag his arm away. 

“Ugh, I’m making you one, that’s so sad,” said Star. 

“Posting a picture would be good, Junnie,” said Eomma. “Maybe Facebook?”

“No one uses Facebook anymore, Eomma!” said Star. 

“Aish, that’s not true, I use Facebook all the time,” said Eomma. 

“I have to-- help Yeong-tae--” Jun cleared his throat and managed to squeeze out this time around, leaving talks of Facebook and selfies behind.

But not Jacob. 

No, he carried that with him as he went outside. He had no idea where Tae would have gone, considering that Jun did not actually give him a task. He headed toward the chickens though, because that seemed to be a good distance from the house. And sure enough-- there was his brother-- on his knees. 

Jun stopped, still far away as though he’d stepped in mud and it had sucked his feet down. He did not know what to do. Jun was not someone who comforted others-- not well. Whenever Tae had cried on his shoulder in the past year, he had sat like a useless, limp pillow, just there to be grabbed onto. He did not know what he’d say to Tae now either. He didn’t know how Eomma felt. Maybe she’d never talk about it, and maybe that was a good thing? Maybe later today, she’d rant about it all much too harshly. Jun could make Tae no promises.

Perhaps he should just leave. Hadn’t he already failed his brother enough today? Space could be what Tae needed, just...space, and time, so he could calm down…

This was not the right answer, Jun knew that and so he hesitated, second after second, before finally forcing his feet to move.

“Tae-yah, what are you doing? Get up, come on now,” said Jun, and he reached down to help Tae onto his feet again. His hands went clumsily up to his brother’s face, wiping away the tears over his splotchy red cheeks. “Look at me, eh? Why are you crying?” It was a genuine question, but also Jun felt like Tae needed something firm right now-- someone to keep him grounded, not have him spin off into whatever painful scenarios he was concocting in his head. “Eomma doesn’t know about you, okay? You’re okay. This is a good thing--” 

He said it. And he believed it.

His hands moved down to grip his brother’s shoulders. “You aren’t alone anymore, don’t you see that? Jacob understands you, eh? He knows exactly what you’re going through!” 

TAE:

“He doesn’t!” Tae heard himself say. 

He wasn’t being fair, but he didn’t want to be fair. He wanted to be Jacob. 

“He doesn’t know anything. Jacob--his eomma probably didn’t care at all! She probably smiled and hugged him and told him to bring David over for dinner and our Eomma just stared at him like he was gum stuck on the bottom of her s-shoe.” 

Tae’s sobs caught up with him and his whole body shook. He didn’t care if what he was saying was true or not because in this moment it was how he felt. Alone. 

Except Tae wasn’t alone, and for a moment, it was like he was six all over again. Jun-hyung, was standing here with him, his hands on his shoulders, and telling him everything was going to be okay. 

Why couldn’t he live in a world where who he loved didn’t matter? He was a good person! Or, he tried to be at least. Sometimes he got a little bit angry and he was definitely short-tempered but...he just wanted his family to love him. He just wanted to be accepted. 

“Hyung, you can’t let her hate me,” he said, his voice a little smaller--like maybe if he said it quiet enough the universe wouldn’t get any ideas. Hot tears slipped down his cheeks and  Tae gripped at the hem of his hyung’s shirt. “She’s going to hate me, but you can’t let her.”

JUN: 

“She won’t hate you,” said Jun. “I promise.” 

It was not something he should promise.

But Jun had always felt this way, since Tae came out to him-- that there could be no other alternative. He could not imagine his loving eomma turning on one of her own children like that, no matter what she believed or didn’t believe. And really, did they know? A belief in God did not mean a belief that all gay people should be damned. He had seen plenty of Christians to argue the opposite: that God meant love, and love was for all of His children. 

Maybe Eomma would be shocked, maybe she would be-- disappointed or confused. That was what Jun tried to find on Eomma’s face when Jacob had introduced his boyfriend, but she had been much too polite about it all for him to figure it out. And yes, those emotions might hurt Tae too, but it couldn’t be hate. Never hate. 

Jun wished his promise could secure that. He would trade anything in order to give Tae that peace of mind.

As it was, he could only fumble his way through this like always. “Tae-yah,” he said then gently. “You should talk to Jacob again. You don’t know what it might be like for him. He was probably scared too, even if our gomo did accept him right away. I’m telling you, this is good.” He said it again, wiped his brother’s face again. “No matter what happens with Eomma, you will always have family, see? Me, and our sisters, and Jacob and Kevin-- and yes, even Gomo. So many people are going to be there for you.”  

TAE:

His hyung was right. Tae knew his hyung was right and he shouldn’t be scared, but it was just so hard not to be. He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded his head. And when he really thought about it, maybe he was just a little bit less scared now than he had been before, because Jacob had come out and nothing had caught on fire. His eomma’s head didn’t explode and she didn’t start praying for him immediately and saying he was going to go to hell. So really, it had been a little bit like a test run and no one had died. 

Now that he was a little more calm, Tae really wanted to know how Jacob had done it. 

“I--Yeah I think I want to talk to him,” he said in a small voice, still holding onto his hyung’s shirt. “And I think I want to tell Sky and Star too. I think they should know.”

A small seed was starting to bloom bright with hope inside of Tae’s chest and he wanted to water it. He wanted to give it all of his energy until he wasn’t scared at all anymore. He leaned into Jun and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight and pressing his cheek to his chest.

“Thank you, hyung,” he said, and he meant it so much. “Thank you for helping me.” 

Maybe it was stupid, but what Tae really wanted now was Nemo. He wanted to tell Nemo all of his feelings. He wanted to explain to him that maybe he was ready, but he was also still so scared and he wanted Nemo to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay just like his hyung was doing now. 

Tae felt safe in his brother’s arms and he wanted to tell Nemo about that too. He wanted to tell Nemo that his hyung was a hero. 

“You--I wouldn’t be able to do this without you,” he said, still mumbling. “You’re a good hyung.”

[aweirdkindofyellow]

The Royal Invitation, Pt.15

Aerowyn Matilde George Rothchester might seem like a very long name, but it definitely is not for a royal in the Kingdom of Dalewin.

After her grandfather, the beloved king, passed away, Aerowyn (also known as Winny) is called back from her art school in New York. She’s thrown back into her royal duties, expected to know what to do.

But with the Royal advisor on tour with the new king, Winny is left to figure things out with his stepson. The only problem, he has no idea what he’s doing, after all he’s only the lead singer in a band.

Co-written story with @scream-tears.

Chapter 15

Winny’s POV:

I stared at Alex for a while. His eyes were shut and he looked asleep, I just needed to be sure that he actually was. When he didn’t even twitch after a few more minutes, I carefully slipped out of my bunk. As soon as I was standing on the floor, I checked up on Alex again, gladly seeing that he still hadn’t moved. I tiptoed over and gently closed the curtain so he could no longer be distrubed by anything that happened in the corridor.

I turned around and went to the next bottom bunk, squatting down so I was face to face with its curtain. As I learned to do, I softly knocked on the plastic board to get the attention of whoever was on the other side. However, I got no response. I rolled my eyes a little and knocked again, a bit louder, but still trying my best not to wake up anybody else around.

When I still didn’t get a response, I sighed and just yanked open the curtain a little. Jack stared back at me like a deer caught in headlights. The only light illuminating his face was coming from his laptop and he was wearing huge headphones. I raised an eyebrow at him, still waiting to get some kind of reaction. When his initial shock wore off, he moved his headphones to free one ear to listen to me.

“Everybody’s asleep!” I whispered.

He didn’t make a sound when he put away his laptop and headphones, only to poke his head out of the bunk and look left and right to see if I was correct. When he saw that I was indeed not lying, he pulled me into his bunk. I was immediately straddling him and I quickly closed the curtain before anybody would wake up and walk past.

“Come here,” he groaned and pulled me down to start a fiery kiss, immediately already tugging at my shirt.

We did our best to be as silent as possible. However, it was inevitable that occasionally a limb or another body part smacked into a wall. That bunk was barely big enough for two people to squish in, let alone to people to get it on. We managed to make it work. And it seemed like nobody had noticed anything. Or at least nobody said anything or gave us any weird looks. Not even Alex seemed to suspect a thing. He just showed up excitedly for our morning walks every day, always expecting me in my bunk.

I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but it was quite a difficult and tiring secret to keep up. Staying up late with Jack just to have to leave before I fell asleep only to have to wake up early-ish in the morning for Alex? Exhausting.

But I was having fun. I was still forever grateful that Alex had made the decision to let me come with him. Even if I was alone for a little while. There were no pressures on me here. I got to do anything I wanted. Rather than jobs being piled on jobs, I now had to actively seek if I could help out anywhere. It was absolutely magnificent.

I was wandering around the backstage area of the arena for the night while world famous rock stars All Time Low were busy doing a whole list of different interviews. You’d be surprised how many interesting things you can find in the deep dark crevices of arenas. Or they were just plain boring. There really wasn’t much of an in between.

I was walking through a hallway and past one of the dressing rooms when my name was called out. “Aerowyn!”

Without thinking twice, I turned around and entered the room, looking up to see Mark Hoppus staring right back at me. It seemed like I had just randomly and rudely walked in. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard my name.”

“Aerowyn,” he repeated.

I shook my head, realising just how big my mistake had been. I tried to act oblivious, like he was saying a word that I didn’t know. “I’m sorry, what?

“You might have been able to fool the others, but you can’t fool me,” he laughed lightly and warmly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I continued to try and play it off.

If my identity came out, things could go horribly wrong. Maybe not necessarily in the circle of the bands on tour. But it was bound to get out. And if my behaviour or drinking and casually sleeping with Jack came out, it would be a scandal. They were pretty chill in Dalewin, but that didn’t mean everything was suddenly acceptable.

“Oh, come on, I’m not an idiot!” Mark rebutted. “A quick google search into Dalewin was all I needed. I hear about a country I never knew existed, I take time to learn about it.”

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and tapped a few times on the screen before handing it to me. I looked down at it in my hands and saw a photo of ‘The Royal Family of The Kingdom of Dalewin’. It was a relatively old picture. I was about 16 and looked a lot younger. It was taken for my grandfather’s birthday that year. There was also a picture of the entire family, but this one was just my grandpa, my parents, Gus-Gus, and me. I was wearing some light pink dress that I could still remember to this day. My mom had refused to let me wear it, but my grandpa somehow managed to change her mind. Everybody else was wearing much more sophisticated colours.

I shrugged and went to give the phone back. “I look a bit like her, but that isn’t me.”

“Swipe to the next photo.”

I did as instructed and went to the next photo he had prepared for me. It was one of the photos taken for my dad’s coronation. Specifically one that consisted of just me and Augustus. I couldn’t even try to hide behind the fact that it just looked like me. This was a close up of us. Even the birthmark on my neck was visible.

“Okay…” I nodded. I couldn’t deny it anymore. “That is me.”

“Pretty foolproof cover,” he chuckled as I defeatedly handed his phone back.

“Well, usually it works better when I’m just Matilde George from New York with a funny accent, not Matilde from Dalewin.”

“So hiding your identity is a common occurrence, then?”

“Only when I’m in New York,” I explained and looked behind me when I heard footsteps, but it was just somebody walking past. “It makes studying there just a little easier. Nobody constantly reporting on my every move, or hoping to blackmail me.”

“You seem pretty serious about keeping it a secret.” He frowned, also briefly glancing at the door.

“If Alex were to know that you knew, he’d start forcing me to act normal again.” I sighed and tugged on my hair. “I was hoping to get away from that.”

“Normal?” He raised an eyebrow at me in amusement. “You mean to tell me you don’t usually chug beer after beer?”

“Art student Matilde does, Princess Aerowyn does not.”

“I’m assuming Aerowyn also can’t have that thing going on with Jack and Alex.”

“Thing going on?” I questioned with confusion.

“Don’t act oblivious again.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” I laughed awkwardly.

I didn’t consider whatever I was doing with Jack a ‘thing’. A ‘thing’ sounded way more serious. Jack and I were only having sex when it suited us, nothing else. And Alex? There definitely wasn’t anything going on there. He was one of the only good friends I had made as Aerowyn in ages. All my friends back in New York loved fun Matilde, not responsible Aerowyn.

“Alright… if you say so.” Mark gave me a very suspicious look.

Before I could assure him there was really nothing going on, Alex came rushing into the room.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you!!” He exclaimed in relief, coming up behind me.

I looked at Mark with a hint of fear. He had the power in his hands. With just a word, he could ruin it all. Usually, my fate didn’t depend on one person so much. I was very used to having at least a little control. People did help me make choices, and I often did follow them, but I did always have the last word. Unless it was towards my parents or higher ranking royals, of course.

“Matilde and I were just discussing gardening tips with each other,” Mark quickly made up.

“Gardening tips?” Alex looked as puzzled as I tried to be earlier.

“Yep, you know, since she works with horses and stuff…”

“Ah! Right, yes.” He nodded in understanding before directing his next part to me. “I was going to go out for coffee and you’re coming with me!”

“I’m coming with you?” I challenged.

“Yeah, live a little,” he scoffed and pulled on my arm to drag me out of the room.

I made eye contact with Mark one more time and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. He responded with a wink and a smile as Alex continued to force me to join him.

[bohrapbois]

imagine of the borhap boys + lucy in a quarantine zoom call?

Rami and Lucy were lucky enough to get quarantined with each other, so they weren’t overly lonely. The downside was they were in a city, so they were indoors near enough the entire day, every day. So when she suggested a Zoom group with the cast, Rami didn’t see any harm in it. 

God, was he a fool.

The moment it was suggested in the Band Group Chat, it spiralled out of control. Although it would technically be 4am in the morning in the UK, Ben was the first to answer. He started with normal texts but then they started turning weird, with randoms gifs and emojjis popping up halfway through a conversation. This summoned the redhead, and Joe only worsened the madness Ben was suffering from and only keyboard smashes happened for a few minutes. But then when the sleep exhausted Brit dropped off, the group chat fell silent until a few hours later. 

Gwil only put ‘??????????’ and Lucy explained what was going on, Gwil agreed it was a good idea and by the time Ben woke up again, Zoom group was set up, so after he groggily downloaded the app on his phone, they were underway.

Lucy and Rami joined first, both on different devices in different rooms because they wanted the experience of zoom, but Gwil joined in soon and they had brief lovely catchup before both boys of chaos joined at once. 

Ben was laying on his sofa, hood pulled up around his face and it looked like he could drop off to sleep at any moment. Obviously, he was on his phone, whilst it looked like the others were on laptops, but he didn’t care, it just meant they had to see an extreme closeup on their screens. And it had only been a few minutes of mindless chatter before he was swearing. Frankie had decided she wanted to join in, jumping on the sofa and shoving her way between Ben and his phone, making the device fall from his hands. “Ah fucking hell,” they could all hear him cursing as they now looked up at the ceiling, seeing Ben half wrestling his dog as she tried to climb over him, and eventually he was able to grab his phone. Now, the extreme closeup was of Frankie, Ben half obscured in the background. The group went crazy. They all started complimenting her, saying what a good girl she was and how many treats they’d giver her, yes they will, yes they will! She began wagging her tail, wacking Ben in the face and making him splutter before he finally gave up and sat upright, Frankie settling on his lap.

Gwil thought it’d be a good idea to show them his garden, he had been working quite hard on it actually, so off he went, laptop held in his arms as he started the tour. It was going well for a while, and the gang learnt quite a lot about planting times of years and what plants look best where, but soon the internet was getting a bit thin, and they were only catching parts of his sentences, and blurry pixelated images of bright colours and half of Gwils face. They tried to tell him it wasn’t working, go back inside, but obviously, Gwil could hardly hear them with the crackling audio, so he carried on for a bit longer before realising what was going and retreated inside. Lucy asked for more photos of the garden, and that cheered him back up again.

Updating everyone on what was going on in their lives, Lucy and Rami were talking over each other before stopping, starting again and then talking over each other again. Ben groaned, just blanking them both as they tried their hardest to get themselves in order, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t until Joe shouted at them both to shut up and suggest that Rami tell one story, Lucy tells another that it dawned on them both that that was actually a really good idea. But whenever the other got really excited and spoke over their partner, the gang would glare at them until they shut up. It took a while, but they finally heard the funny anecdote Rami had to say.

After listening to the stories, having a laggy tour of Gwil’s garden and promising Frankie treats, Joe had to excuse himself to get some food. He didn’t want to leave the screen empty but also didn’t want to leave the call, so he reached over and fiddled of screen for a moment before one of the Broccoli Men from his video appeared, facing the camera. The others laughed, said it was like Joe hadn’t even left, and Joe was happy enough that the gang would be happy enough talking between each other as he grabbed food. But as he returned a few minutes later, pot noddle and coffee in hand, he heard shouts coming from his laptop. “The fucker is staring into my soul, I swear!” He heard Ben yell out, Gwil agreeing. “He knows all my secrets!” Lucy complained before Joe managed to get back on screen. They all screamed louder, begging him to get rid of Broccoli Man and as Joe shoved it off-screen, they all cheered. 

Although they were thousands of miles away and in vastly different time zones, it was like they were in the same room together.

Zoom calls became a twice-weekly occurrence, and they had a tally on how many times Ben fell asleep on screen. It was already in double figures. 

I had a lot of fun with this piece!! Hope you guys like it. Also, yes, in my mind Ben still has Frankie so shhhhhh don’t ruin this for me

[heronwritingx]

chapter 4

here is a chapter 4 of my heathney fic. I do believe I called in Raining Lavender on AO3, if you'd like to go over and support it on there too that would be great!

Courtney took a deep breath and shut her car door; she was surprisingly nervous. She wasn’t this nervous when she announced her own campaign for presidency. A part of her was worried this would all backfire. She was worried Heather would stab her in the back, and she was prepared to do the same if need be. She was worried people would see it as a gimmick, she was worried Noah would somehow turn it against them – Courtney was just worried. She couldn’t trust Heather and she couldn’t trust the other students in her school.

She shook her head and made her way into the school, her backpack full of badges as well as a bag in her hand full of the posters they’d designed. It was surprisingly quiet outside and there wasn’t many students hanging out in the carpark like there usually were. She could however hear a commotion inside, there was loud chattering and Courtney’s stomach was in knots.

Courtney entered the building to not so much a commotion but something indeed. She could see cheerleaders handing out buttons, the different sports teams putting up posters and wearing badges. Her posters were everywhere. Her badges were everywhere.

“Huh…” Courtney blinked.

She could hear Heather’s voice blaring through the halls, not over the intercom but as if she was shouting into a megaphone of sorts. Courtney was becoming overwhelmed, was this the plan Heather had!?

“Courtney!” Lindsay called out, the blonde girl bouncing over to her.

Lindsay was Heather’s closest friend, but Courtney never quite understood why. Heather was cunning, cold and manipulative, whereas Lindsay was innocent and rather sweet. She never could quite grasp how two complete opposites could be friends.

“Heather’s been looking for you, for like ever! Hurry up and come with me.” Lindsay told her.

She linked her arm through Courtney’s and pulled her into the cafeteria, where Heather stood on a table surrounded by people. Heather was wearing her usual cheer uniform along with a jacket, and her hair was pulled up into a ponytail with a new ribbon – one that matched their colour scheme. It was…cute.

“Courtney!” Heather shouted into the megaphone she was holding in her hand – confirming Courtney’s theory, “Finally!”

The school hadn’t been opened that long, had Heather gotten here with her team and friends in hand to set this all up? Was she really that committed to this? Lindsay gently pushed Courtney towards the table and gestured for her to step up, like Heather was. She did so and Heather turned off the megaphone for a moment.

“What is all this?” Courtney asked.

“We needed to start with a bang. Everyone is talking about us.” Heather answered, handing her the megaphone, “Now say something – you’re the one who’s going to be president,”

Courtney took the megaphone and took another deep breath, trying to think of something to say.

“Oh, and don’t make it lame, obviously.” Heather smirked a little, folding her arms.

Courtney scoffed and she thought for a moment, she had to say something that would stick. She had done this before, and she lifted the megaphone to her mouth.

“Vote for Courtney and Heather! Together, we’re going to make a difference at this school!” Courtney took Heather’s hand and lifted it up into the air, “We’ll be giving our first speech next Friday and we want all of you to help us! Tell us what you think needs changing!”

Heather noticed Courtney’s huge smile and she never let go of Heather’s hand for as long as they stood on that table. The students around them cheered and Courtney continued to spout her beliefs and her plans for what she would do if she became president. The morning period was coming to an end and teachers had come to end the campaign via megaphone. Courtney kept holding onto Heather’s hand and pulled her away from the cafeteria into an empty classroom. She hugged Heather tightly and Heather’s body stiffened up, her heart stopping for a moment.

She didn’t know what she was reacting too. The hug itself or Courtney hugging her. No one had hugged her in so long that wasn’t Lindsay and Heather usually avoided that as much as she could. She couldn’t even bring herself to lift her arms up and hug the girl back. Her face flushed red and she couldn’t breathe. Her stomach felt so strange – it was fluttering, and she wanted nothing more than to push Courtney off.

“I can’t believe you!” Courtney was giggling and she was so excited, “I would have never thought to do something so bold!”

Courtney let her go and Heather’s feelings got even more confusing. As soon as her arms were no longer around her, Heather found herself wanting that moment again. She didn’t want to be so shocked; she didn’t want to be confused. She hadn’t felt something like that in so long. No one had hugged her, held her in so long.

“It’s called making a statement…” Heather grumbled, turning away, “We wanted everyone to know, after all.”

“I was so surprised when I walked in, I never thought you’d do something like this.” Courtney continued to giggle.

“Like I said—”

“Thank you.” Courtney said.

She sounded so sincere and her smile was so genuine, Heather couldn’t remember the last time someone – aside from Lindsay – was like that with her. She didn’t even know if she could trust it. She’d always said she couldn’t trust Courtney and she still didn’t.

“Whatever…” Heather muttered.

“Now that everyone knows, we need to polish up our speech for Friday. I’ve started writing it, of course, but it can be better. It can always be better.” Courtney said, “I’ll email it to you tonight, then we can work on it tomorrow afternoon and next Tuesday. I know you have cheer practice Monday, Wednesday and Thursday so tomorrow will have to do.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Class is about to begin, so I’m going.” Heather said, huffing.

Courtney didn’t know what to say to stop her and the girl stomped off, Courtney still confused by her strange moods. Heather was right though; the bell was about to ring and she wasn’t about to be late to class. Courtney and Heather were in the same homeroom class and Heather wasn’t sitting in her usual seat when Courtney walked in despite the girl leaving first.

Courtney glanced around and there he was. He looked mad. He looked furious. He was keeping it under wraps though. She knew he was bubbling with rage; she knew he wanted to snap at her. Her eyes met Noah’s and the shit-eating grin that crossed her lips was indescribable, she wished Heather was here to rub it in more. She wanted Heather there. She wanted to be able to giggle and laugh about his fury with her. Why wasn’t Heather there? She couldn’t have gone anywhere else!

Courtney’s stomach sank when Heather never showed up for homeroom at all.

Heather found herself sitting behind the school, hidden in a little place where she was sure she wouldn’t get caught. She was on her phone watching videos as she tried to ignore whatever the hell she was feeling before. Courtney left her so confused, yet the entire time she planned her bang of a campaign announcement, she wanted to only impress Courtney. She didn’t care what anyone else thought, all she cared about was what Courtney was going to think. She would never say it but she was happy, ecstatic even when she saw how happy Courtney was. That girl made her heart race and deep down, Heather knew what that meant.

She took a deep breath and leaned her head back; it wasn’t possible though. It couldn’t be. Heather couldn’t have feelings for Courtney. Heather was just overthinking things, that had to be it. Courtney was annoying, she was almost unbearable most days. Yet, Heather liked the competitions they had, and she even wasn’t hating working with Courtney. Heather let out an annoyed groan and she almost wanted to smack her head against the wall, but she didn’t, she was so confused! She didn’t know what to do!

“Stupid Courtney…” Heather muttered.

She waited for the bell to ring and she stood up, stretching her arms high up and made her way back into the school. She couldn’t skip class all day, people would think something may have happened. She stomped into her algebra class, one of the few classes she didn’t actually share with Courtney.

The day passed as well as the next and Heather found herself alone in the debate room with Courtney after school. Courtney, as the captain of the debate team, was allowed to use the room whenever she wanted so they had that advantage. She had her laptop sat on the table in front of her and Heather sat across from her, the pair sharing the table.

Courtney hadn’t seen her since the morning of Heather’s big stunt and although they didn’t really speak during class or at lunch, Courtney felt a distance from her VP to be. Heather’s eyes weren’t on her and she kept them squarely focused on the phone no matter what Courtney said. She couldn’t bring herself to ask what happened, where she went or even relish in Noah’s anger. Heather didn’t seem to care, and Courtney didn’t know why it affected her so much.

“Well, let’s begin working on this speech then.” Courtney broke the silence between them, the girl unsure what to say for a moment or so.

“Go for it.” Heather replied, rolling her eyes.

“My goal is equity. Noah’s whole idea is that he wants these “lower groups” to rise up, to have a say,” Courtney said, using her fingers for quotation marks, “That’s only going to segregate the students even more. That’s why I say we use equity as a big theme.”

Heather kept her eyes on her phone and was definitely not finding the meaning of “equity” but nodded along. After all, she just assumed Courtney would write the speech for her.

“Everyone at this school deserves a chance to strive and succeed, equity is our way to do that. Students like you and I don’t need as much help as some others, I want to make sure those students who really need help are getting it. That’s my focus, that’s my plan. That should appeal to everyone.” Courtney explained, “I want to crush Noah’s notion that one group deserves more than another, I want to crush his idea that the cliques affect this school. He’s blindsided by his hatred of what he calls “popular” people. I think we can challenge that; we can beat Noah but only together.”

“Hm?” Heather blinked, this time looking up at Courtney.

“The two of us working together. We’re from two completely different groups, after all. I think if we could even get someone else on our side, someone Noah would hate for us to have.” Courtney told her, her eyes lighting with joy when Heather finally looked up at her, “We need to prove that his idea of cliques is bullshit. We need to move away from that and support those students who need it most, no matter what group they’re in.”

“Oh, you’ve really thought about this.” Heather said, her lips parting in awe.

She was honestly taken by surprise. She knew Courtney was clued in and beyond smart, but this was something else. Courtney was in all honestly, quite impressive. Heather pushed the thought away however and focused on what Courtney had actually said – they needed someone similar to Noah. Someone like Noah but not so…awful to be around.

And Heather knew just the person.

“Now that you say that, I think I know someone who could help us,” an unnerving (to anyone who wasn’t Courtney) smile crossed Heather’s lips, “Noah would hate it too.”

“Who?” Courtney questioned, almost lifting up off her seat in intrigue.

“Let’s keep it a surprise for now, I need to see if he’ll go along with it, after all.” Heather said, standing up, “You work on your speech and whatever the hell you want me to say, and I’ll recruit them.”

“Wait—”

Heather waved her off and walked out, leaving Courtney alone in the debate room – without even a goodbye. Courtney huffed but begrudgingly agreed to Heather, she somehow knew she’d get stuck with the writing job anyway. Heather’s speeches were half-assed at best, so it was probably for the best – after all, Heather had admitted she only ran to beat Courtney. Courtney turned her focus back to her laptop, but she wouldn’t deny it, it stung when Heather left. This was supposed to be their thing and Heather felt like she was already pushing it away.

Courtney couldn’t lose her. She needed Heather to win. She wanted her to stay.