#i could tell you about how after pushing through the anxiety around having/contracting illnesses i feel more sure in pursuing biomed

[butchlifeguard]

seems like you want to be a doctor for the wrong reasons… it shouldn’t be about being able to be “pretentious” someday

this is a one piece blog

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 24

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The boys have decided to grant you your space, but they can only wait so long.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of drug dealing, angry Jungkook curses (and calls someone a wh*re)

Jin walked around his casino, inspecting the area. Some players cast him glances, seeing the handsome suited male walked around with two guards and the casino manager in tow. Jin was extremely meticulous when it came to his places of business. 

“Clear this row. The machines look horrible. Order new ones.” Jin ordered. The manager nodded, opening his file to take note. 

“How’s the bar business?” Jin asked. 

“It is going very well, sir. Along with the new menu for the restaurant that you put in. We have patrons ordering finger foods.” The manager reported. Jin nodded his head in approval. 

“Sir, there have been some new business prepositions for you. From different suppliers.” 

“Prepare them in my private booth at the restaurant. I’ll go through them as a eat. Ask the bar to fix my drink too.” Jin gave a backwards wave as he headed to his office first. He stopped the guards just before the first coded door. After he punched the code in, he pushed open the glass door and headed in. There was another coded door to get through before he opened the double doors that led to his office. 

RINGGGGG

“Hmm?” He pressed the speaker button. 

“Hyung! S-She... (y/n)... She...”

“Jungkook, calm down and tell me what’s going on. This is about (y/n)? What’s wrong? I thought Taehyung was visiting her today.” Jin frowned, wondering what the maknae was freaking out about. 

“SHE’S GONE!”

“Gone? As in, kidnapped again?” Jin went closer to his phone. 

“No. Taehyung hyung came back from the hospital, he was a mess. Then he said something about the room being empty, her leaving her bracelet behind. He checked with the nurses, who said she woke up this morning and checked out right away.” 

“I see...” Jin didn’t really know what to say. 

“She left us!” 

“Jungkook, calm down. Get a grip. I’m coming home now.” Jin said and hung up, He sighed, gathering his things and heading out. 

“I’m going home. Put a hold on everything first.” Jin told the manager, not explaining much as he called for his driver. The car pulled up and Jin got in. he texted the other older ones on the way home. 

“Yoongi, Hoseok.” Jin exited his car just as the two came out. Yoongi chewed on his nail, he had been rather distressed since Hoseok dropped him off at his coastal hotel the other day. But he wouldn’t tell the others what had happened. 

“Namjoon��s inside with the younger ones.” Hoseok informed. They entered the side wing this time. The other 4 members were seated there. 

“Why did she leave...?” Jimin sighed. 

“She won’t return to work so quickly, considering she just woke up from her coma. Plus, she still has things to collect here. She wouldn’t abandon Kookie too.” Namjoon said. 

“Should we find her?” Taehyung jumped up. 

“No. She obviously wants to be alone now. It’s traumatic, even for someone like her. What we are used to, not everyone is. Us going to her house now isn’t going to change anything. She needs space and we have to grant her that.” Yoongi spoke. Everyone knew what the older said was right. They knew where your apartment was, yet they knew they shouldn’t go. 

“Then we just wait for her to come back and speak to us? What if she never wants to see us again?” Jungkook panicked. 

“Even if she does, she still has a contract to honour with our family. She’ll have to come see Namjoon, at least, to nullify it. I know for a fact, that she’ll stick to that.” Jin said. 

“I thought I could finally hold her.” 

“That’s all we wanted as well. But sometimes, things just don’t go our way.” Namjoon tried his best to comfort the maknaes. 

“I have some important business to attend to. I’ll be back tonight.” Hoseok said and left immediately. Yoongi stood up as well, heading to his office here, slamming the door shut. He needed to see you, there were so many things he needed to ask you. 

“Please, take a seat.” Yoongi gulped as he closed the office doors behind him. The visitor nodded, taking a seat on one of the couches. Yoongi wiped his sweaty palms on the thighs before sitting opposite him. 

“What can I do for you... hyung?” He asked. 

“I know everything, Yoongi.”

“W-What do you mean?” Yoongi’s eyes widened. 

“Your friend, the lady doctor, she came to see me the other day. She offered to be my doctor and surgeon.” Geumjae explained. Yoongi was speechless, not really knowing how to react. 

“Of course, I said no. And she respected that, surprisingly. Everyone else was pushing me to get the surgery since it gives me another ‘chance at life’ but I didn’t want to go through all of that. Then, she told me something.”

“What did she say...?” Yoongi asked cautiously. 

“She told me just how much of our father’s burden you’re carrying, even after his death. How much you’re living with the guilt of everything that he caused and how you have taken all the blame on yourself. She made me realise how even though the past hurts, living my life, hating someone who’s not even at fault, isn’t worth it.” He sighed. 

“Oh...” Was all Yoongi could say. 

“Yoongi, as much as I hated our father, I knew it was wrong of me to blame you. You’re not him. I just... what he did to my mum, I needed someone to blame. Even after his death.” Geumjae sighed. 

“It’s okay. I knew whatever dad did... I can never undo it.” Yoongi looked away. 

“But that’s the thing, my omma and I shouldn’t have expected you to undo it. You never needed to and yet, we made you feel like it was your duty to.” Geumjae said. 

“Before her death, she stopped blaming you and your mum, knowing that it was never any of your faults to begin with. There was no point blaming a child and mother who was kept in the dark just as much as we were.” He continued. Yoongi nodded his head.

“We were all just disposable in dad’s eyes. He never cared about us at all.” Yoongi spoke, it was the truth. 

“You’re all I have left, Yoongi.” Geumjae looked at Yoongi.

“You too, hyung. All I ever wanted was just to have you as an older brother, I hated it when dad spoke about you like you were nothing, when he blamed you when he caught us playing together.” Yoongi’s voice grew soft. 

“When I knew you were ill, I tried to get (y/n) to do the surgery. I didn’t care if you hated me. I just wanted you alive.” Yoongi revealed. 

“Yoongi...” 

“That’s why I went to see you. That’s why I told you, if you want me to never find you again, you have to go for the surgery. Because I knew that would be the only way to make you do it.” He wiped a tear. 

“There’s a lot of missed time to make up for. I’ll do the surgery.” Geumjae reached over to hold Yoongi’s hand. 

“Y-You will?” Yoongi’s eyes widened. 

“Only if Dr (y/n) does it.” Geumjae stated. Yoongi nodded his head. The two brothers stood up, hugging each other. 

“Will you ever forgive me, Yoongi?” Geumjae asked.

“I have never once blamed you to begin with, hyung.” Yoongi replied, his words muffled by his brother’s shoulder slightly. That’s why Yoongi needed to find you first and didn’t even mention any of this to the other boys. He wanted you to be the first person to know how he made up with his brother and how it was all thanks to you. 

Yoongi bit his thumbnail as he looked out the window. He swirled the ice cube around the whiskey glass before taking a sip. His shoulder ached, he knew he was over working it too quickly. 

“Hyung?” He turned around to see Jimin there. 

“Jin hyung said to give this to you.” He handed the older a small ziploc bag with some pills inside. It was probably painkillers for his shoulder. Even now, Jin was still the only one that had the key access to your medicine cabinet. 

“Thanks.” He popped the pills into his mouth, gulping it down with his whiskey. If you were there, you would have scolded him. 

“How’s Tae?” Yoongi asked after a short silence. 

“He’s doing better. It was just the initial shock... You know like what happened with his noona. But he calmed down, Namjoon hyung took him to DNA to do some housekeeping.” Jimin informed. Yoongi nodded. 

“Good.” The older sighed. Jimin left the office, going back to his dojo to train, just to get his own anxieties out of his system. Namjoon drove this time, casting glances to Taehyung every now and then. Taehyung just stared out the window, a distant look in his eyes. 

“You know, the last time I bought flowers for someone... I found my dad beating my noona to death.” Taehyung suddenly spoke. 

“Taehyung-”

“Today, I bought flowers for the girl I love, only to find that she doesn’t even want to see me anymore. Just took off and left.” Taehyung sighed. Namjoon didn’t reply, just letting Taehyung be. 

“Are you sure you can work, Taehyung?” Namjoon asked. 

“Of course. Sorry.” Taehyung cleared his throat. Namjoon didn’t mean that rudely, he just wanted to snap Taehyung out of it. 

“We’re here.” Namjoon stopped the car and parked. The doors were opened for them by the guards of DNA. They bowed as the two entered. Namjoon and Taehyung went upstairs to where the 7′s shared office was. They sat inside, going through all the paperwork they have missed. With Taehyung around, Namjoon didn’t have to do it all alone. 

“I thought we were housekeeping. I brought my favourite bat for nothing.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Namjoon chuckled at the disappointment evident in the younger’s voice. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your action. Our men told me that there has been quite a drug problem here.” Namjoon informed. 

“Not by our dealers?” Taehyung grew surprised. Unauthorised dealing of drugs in Bangtan territory wasn’t common since Bangtan has its own dealers. The boys were always controlling what drug gets dealt with and how much of it. 

“Do they know the culprit?” Taehyung asked. 

“We’ll catch him ourselves. Tonight.” Namjoon smirked. Taehyung grew excited, it had been a while since they’ve caught someone themselves. 

When night fell, Namjoon and Taehyung left their office. Taehyung slung his bat over his shoulder, the splintered wood a contrast from his stark, dark green suit. The two stood on the VIP balcony, sipping their drinks quietly as they observed the club being filled. 

“I think we’ve found our dealer.” Namjoon said, swirling his drink in his crystal glass. Taehyung followed his leader’s line of sight, a smile slowly growing on his face as they emptied their glasses and walked out of the booth. 

Jungkook had left after the older ones spoke of the plan to not seek you out, he returned to his fighting ring since there was a high staked, big fight tonight. 

“Mr Jeon.” The workers bowed. Jungkook ignored them, straightening his jacket.

“Get me a drink.” He said as he walked up to his regular, protected booth. Entering, he removed his jacket and sat on the plush couch. He leaned back comfortably, crossing his legs. 

“Sir.” His attendant bowed deeply, placing Jungkook’s usual drink order over a napkin on his side table. Jungkook shooed him away and he scurried away. 

“Hmm...” Jungkook looked at the iPad, scanning through the fighters that would be sparring today. He clicked on a specific fighter’s profile and immediately bet 10 million won. All he had to do now was sit back, relax and watch his pet win. Jungkook wasn’t an impulsive gambler but he was a confident one, ‘don’t put all your eggs into one basket’ didn’t apply to him. 

“Jungkookie.” A female’s voice entered the VIP area where he was sitting. Jungkook ignored her, eyes trained on the people coming in and placing their bets for the fight. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” She had the audacity to sit down beside him. Jungkook took a sip of his drink. 

“Who let you in?” He asked, not even looking at her. 

“I told them I’m with you and they let me in.” She giggled. Wordlessly, Jungkook stood up and headed to the door. Grabbing the guard by the back of his collar, Jungkook dragged him in, throwing him to the ground. 

“So you just let anyone in now?” Jungkook hovered over him. 

“N-No, sir! I’m sorry! She told me she was with you and I know that a girl is usually with you-”

“Don’t you dare compare her to that wh*re over there.” Jungkook cut him off with a menacing hiss. The guard shut his mouth, pursing his lips. 

“You’re fired. Get out of my sight and take the wh*re with you, since you like to listen to her so much.” Jungkook growled. His patience was already running thin from the events earlier today and he wasn’t about to let someone else test it again at his own place of business. 

“Jungkook, don’t you think-” Jungkook, gaze still trained on the guard in front of him, took his gun out and pointed it at her. She screamed and ducked behind the couch. 

“Get out!” Jungkook roared and the two ran out as quickly as they could. 

“Unless you see a member of Bangtan, no one is to be let into MY booth. You understand me?!” Jungkook shouted at the other guard, who jumped in fear, saluting and nodding his head. Jungkook slammed the door. 

“F*ckers trying to test me.” Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair and dropped back down onto the couch. 

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Jungkook looked through the glass to see his fighter standing there with his manager and the ringmaster. Giving a nod of approval, he waved for them to enter. The fighter and his manager walked behind the ringmaster. Seeing him bow to Jungkook, the two bowed respectfully. Jungkook stood up, going to the fighter. He scanned his figure. 

“Mr Jeon.” The fighter bowed. Jungkook smiled. 

“You have a lot of potential. I’ve got my money on you tonight.” Jungkook faked kindness. The manager’s eyes widened. 

“Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr Jeon! We- I mean, he won’t let you down!” They bowed again. Jungkook hummed with a nod, patting the fighter’s shoulder encouragingly. 

“That’s good to hear. I’ve seen you train so I know you won’t let me down.” Jungkook chuckled, sitting back down.

“Have a great fight. I’ll be watching.” Jungkook waved. The fighter looked out the viewing glass that faced the ring. He visibly gulped and nodded his head. 

“Thank you again, Mr Jeon.” The manager bowed and guided his fighter out. The ringmaster stayed behind. 

“After the fight, we’ll keep the kid. However, not a big fan of the manager...” Jungkook smirked. That’s all Jungkook needed to say for the ringmaster to understand what he meant. The ringmaster nodded and bowed deeply before exiting the room. 

--

You sighed, stretching your fingers. 

“Great work, everyone.” You nodded to everyone in the surgical suite. The nurses and other attending doctors bowed to you. You walked out the double doors, pulling your soiled scrubs off and tossing them into the bin. 

“Good job. As always.” Your mother was there, waiting for you at the exit. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You can only imagine how happy your mother was when you told her that you would be working here temporarily. There were some skills that you needed brushing up on and honestly, you wanted to avoid 7 people for a while. 

“I’m gonna take a break.” You walked away from your mother, heading to the stairwell. You entered the rooftop of the hospital. 

“You’re such a coward. You know that?” You shook your head at yourself. Sitting on the only bench there, you tucked your hands into the pocket of your coat.

A few days ago, you had sent a message to Namjoon, asking for time off and that you will contact him shortly regarding you contract with the family. You didn’t even wait for his reply before blocking him. 

“You look like you need a hot chocolate.” A new voice appeared. You stiffened slightly, turning around. 

“Found ya.” He smirked. 

“I wasn’t exactly hiding. Besides, I knew one of you were bound to come and seek me out. Although, I can’t say I expected you to be the first one.” You chuckled. He held out a cup of hot chocolate and you received it. You opened the lid, watching the steam escape for a few seconds before taking a sip. The sweet beverage comforted you. 

“You’ve cut your hair.” He pointed out. You nodded, reaching up to touch your now slightly short hair that ended just above your shoulders. You wanted a change and this was the best you could do. 

“How are you doing?” He asked, sitting on the bench beside you. 

“Surviving.” You shrugged. 

“Really?” He wasn’t convinced by your vague answer. 

“I shot someone, I killed him. I’ll forever live with the guilt of his blood on my hands but do I regret it? No. It needed to happen.” You sighed. 

“We know there was a boy that helped you escape. We found his body in the room and gave him a burial, it’s only right.” He took a slip of paper out of his wallet, handing it to you. 

“He’s there.” He informed. You looked at the address and number on the paper, nodding with a hum before putting it in your pocket. 

“Are you done with work for the day?” He asked. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving with you. I asked for an indefinite time of leave. That means I want to be away from all of you.” You snorted. 

“We don’t have to leave. We can stay right here. But now that I think about it, I’m sure I’m the only one in the family that hasn’t told you how I joined Bangtan.” He looked at the city skyline before him, a small smile on his face. You blinked, turning your head to look at his side profile. 

~~

Ko-fi link

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[rommahh]

Better

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairing: Buckybarnesxfem!reader

{This is for @metalbuckaroo's challenge. I had this brewing for a minute but college has got in a chokehold. I chose prompt #30 from the given prompt list. I hope y'all like this read. Love, R}

Bucky trailed behind Y/N as she ignored his calls. Her boots clicked loudly in the small hallway as she rushed towards their shared apartment. Her keys shook in her hand, body tense with anxiety and anger.

Bucky reached her at the door, his hands loosely gripping her arms. Y/N shoved the door open, her body snapping away from his. Y/N haphazardly throws her keys in the small bowl that sat on the hallway side table.

Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she tried to remain calm.

“Y/N please, what is going on? Why are you so mad?” Bucky questioned, slamming the door behind him as his own frustrations started to catch up with him.

“I'm going to bed.” Is all she said to him without even meeting his eyes. She was quick to enter her room and lock the door before he could say anymore. Bucky stood behind her door in confusion. His body still tingled with the lasting effects of the shots he took hours prior.

Sitting on your bed, Y/N finally released. Her shoulders dropped, her body hunching over itself as the tears started flowing.

Y/N had been looking for Bucky for what felt like hours. He was her ride back to the apartment and having been at this party for over four hours- she was exhausted. There was a twinge of disappointment that lingered in her caused by Bucky's disappearance. He invited her to this party tonight but quickly left her to her own devices the moment the both of them walked through the frat’s doors.

The house was mainly empty except for the few lingering bodies that were drunkenly wandering around. She climbed up the stairs that lead to a common room on the second floor. Y/N’s cute white go-go boots were tight on your feet, making her wince at every step. Fashion was a moment type thing, not a four hour long excursion.

Y/N heard a group of voices leading from the common room once you reached the top of the stairs. She listened out waiting to see if she could hear Bucky’s voice before walking through the doors of the common room.

“I don't know why you hang out with that girl Bucky.” Her ears perked at his name. Y/N almost walked through the door but she took a step back to listen to what they were saying.

“Yeah, shes fucking weird.” The group laughed. “I mean look at how she dressed tonight. She’s wearing a costume.”

Y/N looked down at her 80’s inspired dress with a frown. She thought she looked cute tonight, Bucky said she looked cute. She couldn't stop blushing after she heard his words.

“She’s a freak barnes. All she does is follow you around. Are you sure you guys aren't dating?” One of the boys asked with a chuckle. No one said her name yet but she knew they were talking about her. She could tell.

“Y/N’s not that bad. She just doesn't have any friends. I don't like her like that, not my type. She's got that weird anxiety thing.” Bucky's voice finally sounded out from the group. Y/N heart hurt hearing his words. Weird anxiety thing?

“Yeah, making her a freak. So you're just friends with her out of pity? Are you at least getting community service hours?” The group laughed again, Bucky's deep laugh standing out to Y/N.

“You have a lot of strength for a man who's not getting any ass from the girl he's keeping company with. Shes weird as fuck but her body is still bangin. Have you ever copped a feel of her tits? I would hang out with the loser if I got to fuck her too.” Someone commented. Y/N felt bile rise in her throat. She could feel a panic attack approaching having heard the sexual comments about her body. She stepped out from around the wall into the common room. All eyes snapped up to her, some eyes widening in shock. Bucky just looked up, not catching on that his roommate may have heard the horrid words said about her.

“I-im ready to go home, Bucky.” She hadn't looked up from where her feet were rooted on the stained wood floors. Bucky slowly wobbled up from his seat. The rest of the guys watching quietly, some snickering at Bucky's submissiveness.

“Here sweets, you're gonna have to drive.” Bucky says handing his keys over to Y/N. Without looking at him, she snatches the keys from his hands and quickly retreats to his car. Bucky stumbles behind her confused by her attitude.

Y/N walked to Bucky’s car, arms covering whatever they could cover on her body. Her mind telling her she was unsafe, her anxiety telling her even worse things.

Bucky eyes burned from the headache he had. He felt physically ill as he woke up from the living room couch. Last night's activities blur in his mind, no clear memories presenting themselves. He sits up to rest his forearms on his knees trying to calm his bubbling stomach.

The first thing he notices as he comes to his senses is the lack of Y/N’s noise. Normally the small apartment would be filled with the sounds of her sunday playlist as she cleans about. He also doesn't smell her extra dark and strong coffee that she only makes for sundays. He doesnt smell her out of the can cinnamon rolls either that she would normally wake him up with on a small tray with said coffee.

He finds it odd that her presence is lacking in the apartment. Standing, he makes his way over to her room knocking on it slightly. He hears shuffling from the other side but no one comes to open the door.

“Hey sweets, everything ok?” He knocks again to gain her attention.

“I-Im fine Bucky, please go away.” She stutters out to Bucky. Bucky is shocked by her statement not used to being pushed away by her.

“Oh ok, just let me know if you need anything.” He says quietly.

Y/N remained the same way over the next few days. She rarely came out of her room when she was in the apartment leaving Bucky on his own. She stopped making him meals out of kindness or filling up his canisters of water for workouts. She stopped baking him treats as midday pick me ups. She didnt wait for him to get out of classes so they could gossip about what was going on on campus. She didnt bother him at all.

Bucky felt uneasy about Y/N’s silence. He was hurt by her sudden disappearance. Hurt that she could just ghost him without any reason. But there was a reason, Bucky just didnt remember.

Y/N sluggishly walked into the apartment after taking an extensive exam in one of her classes. She tried to walk quietly throughout the apartment to not catch the attention of Bucky. She walks softly on her feet close to the opening of the kitchen.

“Hey.” A quiet voice makes Y/N jump in her spot. Her mission of going unnoticed failed. Bucky leans against the kitchen counter that is parallel to the opening of the kitchen. His feet are crossed in front of him, hands holding a cup of tea.

“Hi.” Her tone matches his. She turns her body to face his, hands fidgeting with each other. She slightly moved from foot to foot, a trait that had been acquired out of nerves. Bucky recognized her tic, his heart constricting at the thought that he might have done something to cause it.

“Y/N, please, what's going on?” Bucky can see that she's not wearing one of her normal outfits that are adorned in bright colors and fun patterns. Instead, her body is covered in a boring sweater that hides most of her body. She wears a large pair of jeans underneath, a belt tightly bounding it to her body.

“Nothing Bucky.” She dismisses. Bucky feels his anger peak. A range of emotion he tried to hide away breaching over its point. He missed his best friend beyond belief and all she could give was a few words.

“It's not nothing Y/N!” He snaps slamming his mug of tea on the counter. Y/N flinches at the sound. Her hands start to shake, not out of fear of Bucky but from unwarranted anxiousness. “I've given you your space but its killing me. I miss you Y/N. I dont get what happened?”

Y/N feels her eyes well up with tears.

“You hurt me Bucky.” It was Bucky’s turn to flinch hearing her words. He hurt her?

“I don't know what I did though.” His voice sounded childlike as he whined.

“At the party, you let your friends talk poorly about me. You-you let them call me a freak and-and weird. They made fun of my clothes and said you were hanging out with me out of pity and you just sat there and laughed James!” Her voice rose with every word. Bits and pieces of that night float around in his head. He can slightly remember the conversation but nothing is clearly showing in his head.

“I'm sorry they said that Y/N but you know that's not true. We both know our relationship, I don't know why you're letting them get to you.”

“They talked about my anxiety. You talked about my anxiety!”

“That's it? That's why you're not talking to me?” He exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“You let them sexualize me!” The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence. Bucky’s exterior softened.

“What?” His tone was drastically softer than it was earlier.

“You just sat and listened to them as they talked about my body. They talked about my boobs and if youve had sex with me and you said nothing. They said that they would hang with the loser if they could fuck me...How could you let them say that about me?” Y/N whimpered. Her hands cradled her face as she sobbed. Bucky saw the way her chest heaved with each sob, tears forming in his own eyes.

“I didn't know. I wouldn't have let them say those things sober. You have to know that.” He almost fell to his knees pleading for her forgiveness.

“You even said you wouldn't date me. I know its stupid but I thought you liked me back. You told me you loved me. You've taken me out on dates. You've kissed me for goodness sake!”

“I know and I'm sorry. I do like you, I don't know why I said that. I like you so much.” His knees buckled slightly but he held his ground.

“Obviously you dont Bucky. We should just stay away from each other from now on and I won't be renewing my leasing contract at the end of the semester.” She finalizes. Buckys whispers a small no in protest. “You really hurt me, Bucky. I would never let anyone slander you. I respect you too much to allow for someone else to disrespect you.”

With that being said, she gave Bucky one last look over before walking away. Bucky was knocked out of his thoughts at the sound of her door slamming shut and the lock being secured.

Bucky sat on the kitchen floor, the cold tile seeping through his pants to chill his legs. His face adorned with a frown, tears sliding down his warm cheeks. Y/N was his best friend and he ruined it by being a shitty person. He knows he should have defended her, defended their relationship.

Bucky’s rolly chair was his only source of entertainment at his desk in the lobby of the admissions office. Today was a slow day. There were only a few students who came in asking for help finding buildings or looking for the financial aid office. Some high school student came in for tours but his coworkers beat him to doing tours so here he was stuck in the quiet office. He had already stolen a large amount of guest snacks, a cold bottle of tea and a sugar cookie with the school's logo on it.

His chair spinning activities came to a halt when he heard the front door open with a small jingle sounding from it. He took a moment to let the dizziness fade away before he looked up. Bucky felt his breath stop in his throat.

There stood a girl with overalls and a bright colored top. She wore dark green converse, high tops, with frilly socks that peeked from the top. She had large glasses that framed her face perfectly. She was looking around the office, eyes wide with wonder. Her eyes finally met Bucky's, making a large smile appear on her face.

“Hi!” She exclaimed walking up to Bucky’s desk.

“Hey, what can I help you with today?” Bucky asked cooly.

“I just transferred here and I was wondering if you knew where I could apply for on campus jobs?” She placed her hands on top of the counter of Bucky’s desk. He admired her baby blue acrylics that had white flowers on them.

“Oh um, the admissions office is hiring. We do all of the tours for highschool students, or package and mail acceptance letters. Sometimes we plan scholarship events. It's an easy pay type of job. I just sit here and do homework my whole shift.” Bucky answers. “What's your name so I can get my boss to contact you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky quickly scribbled your name on a post it note and stuck it to his laptop as a reminder. “Do you really like this job or are you just trying to pull me in?” She jests with a small smile on her face.

“I mean it's a decent job but im sure with you working here it would make it ten times prettier.” Bucky smirked at the giggle that escaped Y/N. He wasn't normally a flirt but he couldn't help himself with this one.

“Oh really? How many times have you said that line to a girl?” Bucky put a hand to his chest in a fake offense.

“You think too low of me Y/N. I saved that one for the prettiest girl to walk through the door.”

“Hmm, ok. I'll believe it only because my ego needs this boost. Hey, you never told me your name. How am I supposed to write about this encounter in my journal if I don't have your name?”

“My name is James but I prefer if people just call me Bucky. Short for Buchanon, I know it's weird.” Bucky leans back in his chair, arms crossed. He can see her eyes checking out the way his muscles flex underneath his long sleeve shirt. He may have purposefully flexed a little extra for show.

“No, I love it. I dont think ive ever met a Bucky.” She counters. She leans forward, placing her elbows on the counter, her chest pressed against the front of the counter.

“Well I'm glad I'm your first Bucky.” He jokes with a small smile on his face. There was a small moment of silence shared between the two as they just looked at each other. Bucky couldn't help but think about how cute she was as Y/N thought the same thing.

“Oh gosh, I'm probably holding you up from your work.” She snaps out of her little spell rolling her eyes at herself. “I should get going.”

Bucky frowned at the idea of her leave, wanting nothing more than to continue talking to the new girl.

“Right, of course. Maybe I could get your number...so I can notify you about the job.” Bucky proposes. Y/N raises one eyebrow in question, a knowing smile placed on her lips.

“Sure thing bucky.” He hands her a pen and post it for her number. “I wouldn't be opposed to you using this number for things other than work too.” She suggested. She signed her name on the post it note ending it with a small heart.

“I will definitely take you up on that offer. No take backs though when I start sending you random shit.” She giggled, leaning up from her spot. Bucky basked at the sweet sound. He stood up to meet her on the other side of the desk.

“Well Bucky, it was lovely to meet you.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, he reciprocated the action. Her hands were soft and warm, he thought. She gave him one last smile before walking away.

It was warm outside on the quad as Bucky sat by himself. He sat at the table that would normally be occupied by Y/N and him. Y/N would bring lunch- made by her. Anytime Bucky would try to help her by making lunch she would kick him out of the kitchen. Today, Bucky sat by himself, with no hand made lunch. He had a greasy bag of french fries and a large coke. He planned on eating his sorrows away.

“Hey Bucky!” A voice yelled out to him. Looking up from his fries, Bucky looked towards the sound that broke him out of his fries excursion. Tanner and Logan, his friends from the party, came walking over to him. They both sat down, throwing their lunch onto the table.

“Where's Ms. weirdo?” Tanner asks, mouth full of food. Bucky grimaced at Tanner's manners. He also felt the anger he should have felt on Saturday bloom in his chest.

“She's not weird.” Bucky snapped, fists tightening in his lap. Tanner scoffed, Logan laughing along with him.

“Says you. She is fucking weird. Did you finally get some from her or something? Defending her and shit.” Logan clapped Tanner on his back agreeing with him. “Shit, good for you dude. I would have fucked her a while ago. Probably would have kept her face down so I wouldn't have to see her-”

Before Tanner could finish his sentence, he was thrown from his seat from the powerful punch being landed on his jaw. His feet flew from where he was sitting, landing on his back with a heavy thud.

“Dude what the fuck?” Tanner stood wiping his face from the blood that started to trickle down from his bloody eyebrow. Bucky had never felt anger like this before. His heart was racing, his breathing labored. His cheeks were red and warm, eyebrows turned down.

“No, you don't get to make fun of her and make sexual comments about her.” Bucky snarled. Tanner rolled his eyes, walking closer to Bucky.

“Oh fuck off with that! You didn't defend her this hard on saturday.” Tanner's mistake after his words was shoving Bucky's shoulders back. Bucky reacted quickly by shoving Tanner with even more force.

Tanner threw a punch to Bucky’s jaw, making his head fly back. Bucky tackled Tanner to the ground, throwing punches left and right. Tanner fought back, hands flying landing punches wherever he could land them.

Logan was able to pull Bucky off of Tanner, warning the two that campus police would arrest them if they were caught. Both boys stared at each other fuming. Bucky snatched his trash and his backpack up, the scowl never leaving his face.

“If I ever see you looking or talking to Y/N, I will bash your face in.” Bucky growled.

Y/N felt better today. She found the strength to wear a cute outfit versus the oversized clothes she had been wearing prior out of fear. She didn't want anyone to look at her in any harmful way. She wanted to wear her cute outfits that were sometimes form fitting and short. She liked to wear her cute period pieces that had her own twist on them. She spent many years hating her body and the way she looked. She deserved to feel cute without thinking she is at fault for being sexualized and poorly treated.

She whipped out one of her favorite outfits today, loving the way it fit on her body making her feel confident. Sitting at the front desk of the admissions office, her feet propped up on the desk. Her shift was going by slowly, no one needing assistance this late in the day.

The door burst open making Y/N jump from her seat. She stood up shocked to see Bucky walk in with a huff. He wasn't supposed to work today but here he was. Y/N gasped looking at his cut lip and bruising eye.

“Bucky, what happened?” She maneuvered her way around the desk to stand in front of the beat up boy. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks to examine his injuries. He moved his face away from her tears brimming his eyes.

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry. I should have protected you from them. I should've told them not to speak about you that way. You are more than some eye candy for men to act disgusting towards. You are beautiful and eclectic. You have a brilliant mind that shines brighter than anyone elses on this campus.” He spoke to her softly.

“I don't understand Bucky. What made you have this change of heart? You didn't give two shits about me last weekend.” She crossed her arms defensively.

“I know and I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the alcohol but that's no excuse. I love you. I love all of you. You're not weird. You're your own person and I love everything about you. You do so much for me and I feel like shit for not doing the bare minimum for you.” His words stunned her.

“You love me?”

“God, with everything I have. Since the day you walked in here with those overalls. I've spent the past four years loving you.” Bucky whispered. He grabbed her hand, thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“I love you too, Bucky.  I really do and I'm hurt. I don't think the hurt will go away for some time. You let them speak horribly about me. If you loved me like I was your girl, you would have defended me.” She spoke sorrowfully.

“I know, I know. I can't change the fact that I did nothing but I can tell you that I'm sorry. I'm always going to protect you. I did today. Tanner may be sporting a nasty goose egg on his eye because of his dumbass words.” Y/N giggled softly, touching his bruising knuckles.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“I want to go back to normal. I miss you in the mornings and-and during our lunch breaks outside. I miss you.” Bucky stated.

“I miss you too.”

Bucky watched her eyes drop down to his lip, busted and all. He leaned forward slightly hoping she would meet him in the middle. She met him the rest of the way pressing her lips to his. Bucky relished this moment. He relished to be even sharing  moments with the girl he's been in love with since the second he saw her.

“I'm gonna be better, I promise.”

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.1

Author’s Note:  Short chapter.  My anxiety has gotten really bad and I’m busy so I could use some virtual hugs haha

"You dared to deceive an archon?"

The bellow hung heavy in the morning air, but Childe didn't flinch.  "Oh?  If my memory serves me correctly, you were all for my plan."  A slight excitement rushed within his chest at the thought of the possibility of fighting an archon today.  The joy he would feel! To have the privilege of testing his strength against a former god--

"Don't play games with me," Zhongli growled, his infuriated gaze sliding to the brat that was more than amused at his ill-composed state.  Archons, the consultant was trying so hard not to summon a meteor this instant--something his past self would've done without a moment of hesitation.  "You nearly--"

"I never claimed to be one of the good guys, sensei."  

Zhongli bit the inside of his lip until he drew blood and his eyes glowed a threatening yellow that was far too similar to the Exuvia.  He so desperately wanted to run Childe into the ground, to pummel him with the same spears that defeated Osial himself.  To do so would mean the complete and utter destruction of the harbor that sat below them, as they were on the hill behind the Liyue Qixing's headquarters.  The sun beat down on them harshly as if to mirror Zhongli's rage.

"I have my own agenda to fulfill, in the end."  Something somewhat apologetic flashed in the harbinger's eyes before he looked out to the vast sea, still unflinching from Zhongli's threatening aura.

"You have broken a contract.  A breach in trust.  Do you know what this means for you?"  I'll end him right here.  As a cost for the Tsaritsa to pay for breaching--No.  Zhongli took a deep breath to quell the raging tides of fury that swirled in his being.  No.  The Tsaritsa broke no contract.  I willingly gave Xiao after being played like a fool by Childe.  That's right.  Anger consumes all rational thought; Zhongli could not allow himself to make the same mistakes.  To do so would surely destroy any concept of safety for you and Xiao.

"I will fight to the death if you see it fit, Mr. Zhongli."  The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards after hearing the anger in the consultant's voice, but they downturned again as he turned to face the man.  "But, as I see it, I have learned from that...experience in Fontaine."

Zhongli's hard gaze remained unwavering as stone.

"Mezzetin..."  Childe returned to his view of the ocean.  "...has been in too dark of a place as of late.  I had deceived you in an effort to protect her from your yaksha; his presence seemed to have too negative of an impact on her.  So I thought, for her benefit, I would recruit her into the Fatui for her own safety.  From Xiao, and from the unrelenting forces of Snezhnaya.  She wouldn't have to live in fear of us as long as she was with us.

"But then another side effect showed up and I realized I had made a mistake for deceiving you, Mr. Zhongli.  I was mistaken to think that the yaksha was the problem instead of the distance between the pair.  That, dear sensei, is why I brought her here for the Lantern Rite."

While he's speaking from the heart, he is still being untruthful.  The archon stood unmoving, rage reigniting a little until a memory of Guizhong flashed in his mind.  He wouldn't bring her to Liyue without another motive.

"I'm speaking honestly, Mr. Zhongli."  Childe didn't even hold his signature smile across his lips; he was dead serious.  "While this excursion most definitely benefits the Tsaritsa, I only brought Mezzetin for her own wellbeing."

Zhongli still wasn't buying it, and he approached Childe until he was at his ear.  His low voice had to have dropped an octave lower while he maintained his composed but threatening demeanor.  "The next time you cross me or seek to harm those in our group, you will join Osial below Guyun Stone Forest."

The threat was enough to send a slight chill down Childe's spine, as reluctant as he would admit it, but the harbinger grinned darkly nonetheless.  After all, how could a measly chill overpower the thrill of battle he always got?  It egged him on, but...he did consider Zhongli a comrade more than a means to an end for the Tsaritsa.  One that he didn't want to lose, even if he was still pissed that the consultant had deceived him for being a human and not the Lord of Geo.

The archon began to brush past Childe, when the harbinger gripped his shoulder to keep him in place.  "Mark my words, Mr. Zhongli.  When the time comes, you will be relying on me once more."

What?  Zhongli rotated his head, but Childe had already let go of his shoulder and started to walk off.  He would've perceived the statement as the threat that it was, if it weren't for the different fluctuations in Childe's voice.  Was that melancholy he sensed?  Guilt?  Uncertainty?  Zhongli narrowed his eyes as he watched the harbinger scale off the mountain with his glider.

Perhaps that was enough to get through to him, Childe thought to himself without peering over his shoulder.  He didn't dare say too much.  The Tsaritsa will get what she needs for her war; what's it to her if he moves a few chess pieces across the board himself?  This is the only time he would ever allow to make such a daring exception.  As long as you and Aether didn't try to intervene down the line, then maybe he could bring you freedom...

That was a cry for help, Zhongli found himself dumb-founded. Childe's figure was now a spec in the distance and near touchdown in the plaza.

.......................

"Will you two cut it out already?!" You had thought that the subject had long passed, but apparently Aether had no mercy teasing you as he had always teased Paimon.  "We didn't do anything! How many times do I have to say that?"  You drew a deep breath to keep up with your mouth.  "Or do I have to whack it into you?!"

"Hm, dunno, Paimon thinks denial is even more suspicious than silence!"

"Ugh, why did you have to go and say we 'slept together...'"  Your head dropped into your hands in an exasperated manner, eyebrows furrowing together with the threat of an impending headache.

"Mortals make too large of a fuss over such trivial matters.  It was really nothing," Xiao scoffed at the traveler and the weird floating thing he still couldn't figure out.  It was then that he remembered your odd behavior in bed this morning, and how you were exhibiting the same redness now.  "Though...I do have a few questions.  Why do humans flush red at the most random of times?"

"EH?!"  Your hand instinctually flew to his mouth, nearly covering up--except the yaksha caught your wrist before you had the chance to prevent him from saying anything else that could be perceived the wrong way.  "What are you--?!  Just stop talking!"

"Like now," Xiao noted aloud, completely oblivious to the dumb-founded shock--or what could've been exasperated horror--on Aether's and Paimon's faces.

"Think of it as a defense mechanism," Childe approached the group, completely lacking the tension from earlier.  "Or as an indicator for lying."

"'Lying?'"  Xiao looked unconvinced as his eyes met yours.  You definitely didn't flush red when lying.

"Well, in some settings," Childe let out a chuckle before plopping his hand atop your head.  It wouldn't be inaccurate to think that Xiao nearly summoned his weapon and thought of slicing his hand off right then and there.  "Are you ready to go?"

"Go?  But you said tomorrow."  Lips pursed into an irritated pout as you turned to face him, nonchalantly pushing his hand off of you in the process.  "And Zhongli said something about a possible del-"

"The matter is settled."  Was it just you, or was his smile a little strained?

"And if we don't let you take her back?"  Aether stepped forward.  A few pedestrians glanced his way while passing the group.

"Oh? Is this your way of asking me for a fight? I'd be happy to humor you."

"You can't take all three of us at once," the boy took another step forward, this time lowering his stance as if he were ready to lunge at the harbinger.  Paimon egged him on.  

"Will you two stop with this macho contest?"  Your growl seemed to snap them out of it.  "No one is fighting.  I left with the harbingers to prevent that from happening."

"If the lady insists." Child winked at Aether, who scoffed in turn.  Then he faced you once more.  "As for the sudden change in our depart, I simply changed my mind.  Meet at the Northland Bank.  You have one hour."

.....................

"One hour?!?!" You were still fuming over the smug smile that had tugged at the corner of Childe's lips after the three of you parted from him.  "What...What am I supposed to do in an hour?!  I swear I'm gonna--"

"Paimon thinks we should take him out now!"  

"Why are you so bloodthirsty when it comes to Childe?"  Aether reminded her to keep her voice down, suddenly conscious of the stares you were all getting.

"Why aren't you?  He's lied to us, hurt us, and now he's hurting our friends!  Paimon simply can't accept that!"

Aether had long since tuned Paimon's voice out and was focused on you and Xiao instead.  The lack of eye contact between the two of you made it blatantly obvious there were some things to discuss privately. "We'll let you have some alone time."

"Huh?  Why're you leaving?" You spun on your heel with a confused expression, whirling to a stop once you faced the boy.  "Shouldn't we all be together before I--"

"You'd rather not be alone with your boyfriend before you leave?"  A confused, innocent tilt of the head sent you into another wave of embarrassment.

"B-boyfriend?!"

"Hold up!  You're telling Paimon you're embarrassed by THAT even though you two--"

"Boy...friend...?" Xiao's face twisted in clear disgust as if he had eaten something sour, the words being carefully sounded out. You were his companion.  What is this 'boy friend' term being flung around all of a sudden?  "I've lived for a millennia and you dare refer to me as a child?  Have you no respect for the adepti?"

"U-um!"  Your stammer caught the attention of his narrowed eyes, and his gaze softened slightly.  "Just ignore them.  It's not a bad term or anything of the sort," you sent a pleading glance Aether's way so he wouldn't reveal the meaning of the word.  Boyfriend...ah, I guess he is now...!  Despite your heated cheeks, a flutter of excitement pressed against your chest at the thought and you broke eye contact with the yaksha.

"Yeah, you two need to talk about that," Aether laughed before turning serious.  "Be careful.  If you need help, Xiao can hear you, right?  You just need to pray to him and--"

You nodded, "I know," and gifted him with a grim smile.  "Don't worry about me.  Focus on finding your sister.  I'll figure out a way to deal with the Tsaritsa sooner or later."  You pulled him into a tight hug, yanking Paimon out of the air to envelope her in one too.  "I'll come back."

"That better be a promise you won't break."

"I swear it on my Granny's grave."  The three of you released one another and stepped back.  You waved them goodbye as they ran in the direction of the funeral parlor before turning to Xiao.  "So..."

Xiao crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto his other foot, closing his eyes in a somewhat pensive manner.  "Is there anything you wanted to do before you leave?"

[sneezyminniejo]

Hii! Can I request a sickfic where Stray Kids are on tour in Japan and Hyunjin get a stomach bug? Thank you..

Here it is, hope you enjoy,

TW emeto

Hotel Mess

The Stray Kids members were currently in Japan for the last leg of their world tour. They had already done two concerts here and had one more scheduled for tonight and one for tomorrow night before heading back home. They were all still extremely excited and pumped for their concerts. Well all except for one member.

Hyunjin had woken up feeling like absolute shit. He had a headache, he felt both hot and cold, and his stomach was churning uncomfortably. He wasn't entirely sure how or where since he was really only ever around his fellow members, but it was clear he somehow caught a stomach bug.

Hyunjun knew that he needed to tell someone he was sick, but wasn't sure how to broach the topic. Mainly because Jisung's anxiety was flaring up a bit and he didn't want to make everyone more stressed.

However, Hyunjin didn't have to debate whether or not he should hide his illness, because as soon as he stood up he became extremely dizzy while his stomach lurched violently.

He did his best to stagger his way to the bathroom of his room, but didn't quite make it.

Before he could even reach the halfway mark to the bathroom, Hyunjun bent forward and gagged. A split second later a round of sick was making its appearance on the carpet of the hotel room. He dry heaved a couple of times after he finished puking then sat down next to the puddle, any energy he'd had previously, now depleted entirely.

Jisung, who had been in the bathroom brushing his teeth, had heard some kind of commotion coming from his roommate and fellow 2000 liner, but wasn't entirely sure what it was. He spit the toothpaste into the sink, rinsed his mouth, then left the bathroom to investigate.

What he found was Hyunjin sitting on the floor in between the two beds with a puddle of vomit next to him. He quickly hurried over to him and placed his hand on the older's forehead, not the slightest bit surprised to find him feverish.

"Jinnie, you feeling okay?" He asked his sick hyung. Hyunjin groaned while shaking his head while holding his abdomen. "Do you need help getting to the bathroom?" Jisung asked, not quite sure what all he could do, but gently helped Hyunjun to his feet when he nodded.

Jisung safely got Hyunjin situated in front of the toilet just in time to watch him begin puking again. Jisung watched his hyung empty the contents of his stomach for a good minute before helping him rest against the bathtub when he finished.

“Aish hyung, you aren’t in any condition for the concert tonight. I need to tell Chan hyung and figure out how to get the carpet cleaned.” Jisung was primarily thinking out loud, but Hyunjin heard every word and was in no condition to argue. As much as he’d like to argue about telling Chan he can’t perform, the room was spinning and there were two Jisungs. Hyunjin just wanted to go back to bed.

Jisung momentarily left the bathroom to go digging in his suitcase for the thermometer that he knew was in there. Chan always made sure that at least one member per rooming arrangement had one along with other items just in case. He quickly found it and scanned the other’s forehead. “Shit hyung, we need to get this lowered fast. Your fever is 103.2.” Jisung quickly turned on the faucet of the bathtub, making sure it was lukewarm and waited for it to fill up.

Jisung helped Hyunjin undress down to his boxers, then helped him into the tub. He then quickly left again to grab his phone and returned to the bathroom. When he got to the bathroom however, Hyunjin’s face somehow got paler and greener. Jisung rapidly grabbed the tiny trash can located near the toilet and held it under his hyung’s head.

Hyunjin gagged a couple of times before his head was basically thrust into the can as he dry heaved into it. After several moments of dry heaving, only a small stream of bile came out. Hyunjin leaned back when he was done and whimpered in discomfort. He then heard a phone ringing quickly followed by Jisug answering it.

“Yeah hyung, Jinnie is in zero condition for the concert tonight. He’s thrown up at least twice and he’s got a high fever.” Hyunjin turned to see that Jisung was talking on the phone.” Jisung sighed as he hung up the phone and turned back to Hyunjin.

“Chan hyung is having a manager talk with the front desk about getting us moved to a different room. You stay in the tub for a bit and I’ll make sure our suitcases are set for the move. Holler if you need me.” With that Jisung left the bathroom.

It only took a few minutes for Jisung to get everything put together and he returned grabbing the thermometer off the bathrom counter. He quickly scanned Hyunjin’s forehead again. “It’s a little bit lower hyung. It’s now 102.8. Let’s get you out of the tub and changed, the manager will be here shortly. The manager showed up and helped carry the bags while Jisung braced Hyunjin. He offered to carry the sick member, but Jisung adamantly refused not wanting to increase the chance of it spreading beyond him and Hyunjin. He just needed to convince Chan to let him sit out of the concert as well.

The duo got into the room and their manager told them that he called room service to bring up some soup. He then left to go buy some fever reducers on Jisung's request.

Jisung helped Hyunjun get settled on the bed nearest to the bathroom. "How do you feel hyung?" Jisung asked. "Like shit." Was all Hyunjin said. "I'm going to quick fill up the ice bucket. Do you think you'll be okay for a few minutes?" Hyunjin nodded and Jisung left the room with the bucket.

In the few minutes that Jisung was gone, the soup had arrived and was sitting on a cart outside the room. Jisung placed the ice bucket on the cart and wheeled into the room. He brought the bowl of soup over to the sick member then took the bucket to the bathroom to fill with water.

Hyunjin was a bit hesitant to eat the food. He wasn't sure how his body was going to tolerate anything, but also knew he needed to eat something. He began to eat slow bites of the soup as Jisung returned with a bucket of ice water and a washcloth.

Jisung sat on the bed next to Hyunjin and dipped the cloth in the bucket before wringing it out and placing it on the older's neck. Jisung then turned on the TV and began eating his own bowl of soup. The duo ate in relative silence, and by the time they finished Hyunjin was beginning to nod off.

Jisung quickly and quietly put the bowls back on the cart before getting back on the bed to cuddle with his sick hyung. He knew it wasn’t the smartest idea, but he knew that Hyunjin loved to cuddle when he wasn’t feeling good. Jisung also had a fairly strong immune system. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had last been genuinely sick with anything other than a minor cold, and those usually lasted like three days, so he wasn’t worried. Jisung fell asleep not too long after Hyunjin.

About an hour later, Hyunjin suddenly woke up a bit confused. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had woken up, but before he could ponder it any, he began throwing up all over the bed and his oldest dongsaeng.

Hyunjin felt like he couldn’t control himself at all. He could feel how his stomach contracted painfully as it pushed the bile and the soup from lunch up his throat. Which in turn triggered his gag reflex so he could properly expel whatever was making his stomach so angry.

Once he had finished puking, he was able to take note of what had happened and realized that he had puked all over his dongsaeng, who was sitting frozen on the bed and looked to be on the brink of tears. Hyunjin was about to start apologizing, but Jisung shot up and ran to the bathroom before he could. A few seconds later, Hyunjin could hear what sounded like Jisung puking.

“Sungie, are you okay?” Hyunjin called, guilty that his dongsaeng had evidently caught his stomach bug. He met with further retching around noises that sounded kind of like ‘I’m fine. A minute later, Jisung emerged from the bathroom, stripped down to his boxers.

“That did not feel good.” Jisung muttered as he dug through his suitcase for some clean clothes. He looked up to find Hyunjin looking extremely guilty. “What’s up hyung?” he asked somewhat cautiously. Hyunjin sniffled, “I got you sick.” Jisung chuckled at that.

“While I have to admit that puking so suddenly and hard like that did not feel good, and that technically you did cause the puking, I’m not sick.” Hyunjin’s face morphed from guilt and concern to confusion at that statement.

“I operate pretty well around vomit and people puking, but as soon as someone pukes on me, my body kind of freaks out and decides it needs to expel whatever as well. I promise I’m fine.” Jisung finished his explanation then began to strip the bed of the duvet, which caught the puke that hadn’t landed on his lap.

“I think you should take it easy tonight though Sung, just in case.” Jisung nodded in understanding and took his phone off the nightstand, calling Chan.

After a couple of rings, Chan picked up. “What’s up Sung, How’s Jinnie?” “About that hyung, Hyunjin threw up again, then threw up right after.” Chan sighed upon hearing this. “Alright, I’ll talk with the managers and the other members and see if we can manage the show with just six, or if we have to cancel or postpone tonight’s concert. We’ll discuss tomorrow’s concert tomorrow. Feel better you two.” Chan hung up shortly thereafter, leaving the two oldest 2000 liners to their own devices.

Jisung put the phone down and noticed the box of fever reducers he had completely forgotten about on the cart with the room service. He grabbed the thermometer, the medicine, and some crackers before going back over to Hyunjin. He scanned the older’s forehead with the thermometer. “The good news is your fever is still down a little at 102.8, but the bad news is it hasn’t gone down any more. Do you think you can stomach a few crackers and take some medicine?” Hyunjin nodded and took the crackers. After he ate the crackers he took the offered dose of medicine and slumped back against the pillow.

It was soon decided that it would be too difficult to rearrange the choreography from eight people to six on such short notice, so management issued a statement postponing the remaining two concerts for the following week. Thankfully the location they were performing in was free the following week, so it wasn’t too difficult to rearrange some things. Twitter and Bubble had been blowing up from concerned fans wishing the sick members ‘get well soon’.

During the week they now had off for recovery, Jisung made sure that no one else actually came into the room. He only opened the door to receive the food their manager had arranged, successfully keeping the stomach bug contained to his and Hyunjin’s hotel room.

Just as Jisung had told Hyunjin, he was absolutely fine. He had never developed a fever and only puked the one time, so it was fairly safe to say he hadn’t caught the virus.

Hyunjin on the other hand spent the first couple of days throwing up every few hours. Thankfully he was able to keep food down to some extent, so his fever was able to be kept at a manageable number. He stopped vomiting three days into the week, and his fever broke two days before the first rescheduled concert. Hyunjin went on vlive the day before the first concert to talk with Stay and assure them that he was feeling much better, but wouldn’t be dancing during the concert. Jisung also made an appearance and assured fans that no one else had gotten sick as they had both remained sequestered to their hotel room the entire time.

[bothcreativitybois]

Schedules

This is a fic I wrote as a gift for @star-crossed-shipper I don’t usually write analogical stuff so I hope this pleases you all.  Wordcount: 5633 Ship: Analogical TWs: Swearing, panic attacks, sexual refrences, hyperfocusing, isolating.   Taglist (ask to be added): @crazydemigod666 @newtnotfound��

Everything was running like clockwork. Wake up at seven am, personal grooming until seven twenty, head downstairs to make coffee, give Patton his muffin and hot chocolate at seven thirty three, make two eggs and a slice of toast with Crofters at seven thirty five, Roman’s grand entrance at seven forty, eat breakfast at seven forty five. It was now seven fifty, he had another three minutes to finish his breakfast. Then two minutes to rinse his plate. Everything had it’s time, everything fit into his neat little schedule. “Good morning, Pierce The Virge.” Roman announced from the kitchen as he mixed his tea. Logan swerved in his stool. Nearly everything fit in his schedule. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your face before noon?” Virgil was never awake this early. Then again Virgil had no schedule. Everyone else had one, even if they didn’t realise, and Logan had mapped them to fit his own. But Virgil just… did things. Virgil grumbled something and stole the toast off of Logan’s plate. “Hey!” Logan protested. “Your brother’s being loud in my room.” Virgil answered Roman. Logan noticed Virgil wasn’t wearing his usual jacket. Maybe Virgil was who he had heard in the laundry last night? Virgil took a bite of the toast. Logan stood up with his plate and walked around the counter to the kitchen. “That would be because I vanquished him from Patton’s room.” Roman said. He and Virgil were blocking the sink. He needed to rinse his plate but they were talking in his way. It would be rude to interrupt their conversation. Logan put a hand on the small of Virgil’s back to try and communicate that he needed to get past. Virgil jumped at the sudden touch and looked back. He caught Logan’s eyes and his face flushed. Logan wasn’t usually the touchy type. “Excuse me.” Logan said. His voice was still tired and a little rough, it made Virgil’s heart skip a little and his mind raced. Logan noticed the edge of Virgil’s make-up began to sparkle. “Hey! Wheezer! You paying attention?” Roman said, snapping Virgil back to reality. Roman pulled Virgil out of the way so Logan could get past. “Thank you, Roman.” Logan said. His head felt weird, it was lighter. Almost dizzy. Was he dehydrated? Virgil dropped his stolen toast and ran from the room. “Virgil?” Patton tried as Virgil ran. He didn’t stop. Logan ignored what happened and rinsed his plate like he intended. Roman and Patton looked at him in disbelief. “That wasn’t very nice, Logan.” Patton said. Logan put down the plate and checked his watch. “I don’t believe I did anything rude.” Logan replied. “They were talking and I needed to get past so I used a non-verbal gesture so as to not interrupt.” Roman rolled his eyes, Patton sighed. “Yes but people may not like you touching them without warning. Especially Virgil since he has a crush-” Roman jumped across the counter and put a hand over Patton’s mouth. “Crushing amount of social anxiety!” Roman finished. Patton looked at Roman and nodded furiously. That was unusual. “Yes well I thought it would be more rude to interrupt the conversation to tell him he was in the way. I believe I did what was most socially acceptable.” Logan said. “Besides his make-up sparkled which usually only happens when he is excited so it couldn’t have been too intrusive.” Roman and Patton looked at eachother flatly. Logan was so smart yet so damn clueless. Patton gently removed Roman’s hand from his face. “Still it may be best to apologise.” Patton suggested. “You know, for good measure?” Logan gazed up at the stairs, there was a tingling sensation in his stomach. He was sure he’d cooked the eggs thoroughly. Was this connected to the dizziness? He looked back down at his watch. The minute ticked over. “I cannot.” Logan said and began walking out of the kitchen. Roman and Patton began whispering to each other. “Why?” Roman asked as Logan began climbing the stairs. “I have a schedule to keep.”

After being startled Virgil had run back to his room out of habit. He slammed the door shut and sat against it, holding his head. He mumbled incoherently to himself. Unfortunately he’d forgotten the mustached menace in the room. “Really I’m giving you my best here but you’re scared when you leave the room?” Remus pouted. Virgil looked up in shock. Remus knew that look. “A panic attack? I really have been bested.” Virgil looked back down. “Not now, Remus.” He mumbled. Remus slinked over curiously. “Who was it?” Remus asked. Virgil tried to push him away weakly but couldn’t. “Was it my brother? No he’s way too weak.” “Go away!” Virgil curled up tighter. “It obviously wasn’t Daddy Patty.” Remus continued. “It could’ve been Janny but I doubt he’s out of the bath yet. Did you see Scales’ big ol’ trouser snake?” Remus lifted Virgil's head to get a reaction. “Get lost, Crap Face!” Virgil yelled as he pulled out of Remus’ grasp. That insult was weak even for Virgil. “Well then it must’ve been Dirty Nerdy.” Virgil’s head shot up, giving Remus his answer. “Ooh it was. Tell me what did he do? Did he tell you about the sun exploding? The chances of the earth being hit by an apocalyptic sized meteor?” Remus pressed. Virgil buried his head and tried to ignore him. Then Remus caught a glimpse of sparkle under Virgil’s eye. He smiled knowingly. “Or maybe he tried to kiss ya?”   “Stop!” Virgil’s voice echoed loudly. Remus knew he’d hit something with that. “So you wanna bone the teacher? I mean I guess I get it… if you’re into the nerdy emotionally cut off but goes off like a rocket in bed type.” Virgil began picturing it, he didn’t want to but he did. Why did Remus have to know just how to get to him? “No!” Virgil yelled. “Oh so I’m wrong? You don’t want him to kiss your neck? Or see his glasses fog up when you’re pinned to his wall?” Remus kept going. Virgil kept unwillingly picturing everything he said. “Go! Away!” Virgil struggled loudly. “Is it because you want to be in charge? You want to throw him on your bed. You want to pull him down by his tie so his face is between-” “Please stop!” Why was Virgil so embarrassed? “You want him on all fours begging for-” Out of everyone Remus was the least likely to judge him. “Fuck off!” It may be his chance to actually talk about it. “You want to bend him over your leg and-” Maybe it was best to let Remus win. “You’re right, Remus!” Virgil snapped finally. That was probably the first time anyone had ever said that. “I think Logan is hot! I want to kiss him! I want to cuddle! I even want to do… that too! I want Logan!” Remus smiled smugly. Virgil took a few deep breaths. “See? Was it really that hard to admit?” Remus teased. Virgil leaned his head back against the door. “Yes.” Virgil replied. “Logan doesn’t have feelings, or at least not the same way we do. And even if he did there’s no way he’d actually like me back. I’m… me.” Virgil felt hopeless. For pete's sake he was talking to Remus. “You aren’t completely unfuckable.” Remus said. It was actually kind of reassuring. “You definitely have the kinky ‘step on me goth boy’ appeal.” Well by Remus standards at least. Virgil smiled a little. “Thanks.” He replied genuinely. “Well I feel wanted here which means it’s my cue to leave.” Remus said standing. He opened the door, hitting Virgil. “Whatever.” Virgil stood and trodded over to his bed and flopped down. Remus looked back at Virgil. “Hey?” Remus said to get Virgil’s attention. He looked up slightly. “You think if Logan gets some he wouldn’t be such a stick up my ass anymore?”  Virgil threw a pillow at the door as Remus shut it.

Logan heard Remus in the hall as he worked. Maybe Remus would be able to help him with this. While he was messy and unproductive, this was a topic he’d sure like. Logan walked across the room and opened his door. “Remus.” Logan greeted leaning out the door. Remus turned quickly. “I haven’t even done anything yet. I’m just walking.” Remus replied. Logan rolled his eyes. “I believe your insight might be helpful to a problem I am trying to figure out.” Logan clarified. Remus groaned. “Do I have to?” Remus asked. “You don’t. But the problem is about illnesses and their symptoms so I figu-” Logan was nearly floored by the green blur rushing into his room. He looked in to see Remus sitting on his bed. Logan straightened his glasses and closed the door. “So who’s dying and how?” Remus asked. Logan took out a whiteboard and put it on a stand. He separated it into two sides. On the left he wrote ‘symptoms’ and the right ‘possible causes’. “Hopefully no one.” Logan began. “I believe I may have contracted something after our experiments last week in the imagination.” Logan wrote two symptoms on the board. Dizziness and unsettled stomach. Remus summoned a pair of thick fake glasses and slipped them on his face. He scratched his chin. “These seem pretty unexciting.” Remus said. “Anything else?” Logan took out a journal and flicked through the pages. He examined the logs from the days between when he and Remus experimented and now. “Yes.” Logan answered. Remus took the marker and got ready to write. “Five cases of tingling sensation in extremities. Each one seemingly isolated.” Remus added the list on the whiteboard. “Which parts?” Remus asked. Logan looked down then back up. “Be honest.” “Fingers, hands and toes.” Logan answered. Remus wrote one extra place. “Remus!” “If you won’t be honest I will!” Remus defended. Logan leaned over and wiped the crude word off. “I’ve also experienced temperature fluctuation.” Logan added. Remus wrote it and stepped back. “So far not really adding together.” Remus said. Logan looked over too. “Yes, I can’t see any connections either.” Logan commented then looked down again. “Well, are you sure that’s everything?” Remus tried to snatch away the book but Logan dodged. “I mean there’s some tachycardia I’ve been tracking but that’s been going on for longer than the figurative window. Same with some regular shortness of breath.” Logan added. Remus wrote that in the possible causes section. “That would only explain the dizziness and tingling. Maybe the fevers but that’s a long shot.” Remus nawed the marker, getting ink on his teeth. “But if you’ve been having those for longer than our experiment then it may be an underlying condition that’s only just rearing up.” Logan was actually impressed. He’d put the tachycardia and weak lungs down to stress and being generally unfit. “You… may have a point.” Logan admitted. “Maybe there’s something you missed further back? How long has this been going on?” Remus was suddenly serious. Logan thought that was impossible. He flipped through his logs. “The first time for the heart palpitations was a few months ago, I remember because it was the day when I got this new tie.” Logan explained. “What was happening when you got them?” Remus asked, tapping on the board slightly. “I don’t see how this is relevant?” Logan dodged the question. “Just indulge me.” Remus said. Logan sighed. “Uhm… it was while we were in a meeting with Thomas. Virgil had just shown us his new jacket.” Logan said. Remus lit up. He took off the glasses he was wearing and chewed on the arm. “And the shortness of breath?” Remus pressed. “Every morning before I walk down the stairs.” Logan informed. “And whose room is right there?” Remus quizzed.  Logan began to catch on too. “Virgil’s room.” They’d found the common factor. “The tingling?” Remus pressed. “When I’ve been handing or taking things from Virgil!” Logan was getting excited. So was Remus. They’d figured it out. Remus threw his glasses across the room. “You know what this means?!” Remus asked. “Yes!” Logan answered. “I’m allergic to whatever Virgil’s hooded jacket is made of.” “Yes! Wait no…” Remus dissaggreed. Clearly they’d come to very different conclusions. “There’s only one way to find out.” Logan said before sinking out. Remus stood there for a second. “Oh this is gonna be a disaster…” Remus laughed.

Logan rose back up in the laundry room. Virgil wasn’t wearing his jacket earlier and Logan had heard someone in there last night. Given that it was past the time everyone else went to sleep, and Remus is allergic to soap and therefore hates that room, there was only one person it could’ve been. Logan looked at his watch. He had time, Patton doesn’t do laundry for another fifteen minutes. He opened the dryer, thankfully Virgil hadn’t taken his stuff yet. He pulled out the mass of black clothes and threw them around looking for the jacket. He found it and pulled it out. “Ah ha!” Logan said to himself. He held the jacket at arms length, carefully. If his hypothesis was true then this was the cause of his problems. He looked at the jacket, hoping it would cause something to happen. Nothing did. He slowly pulled the jacket closer. “Come on…” he waited but still nothing. Surely this had to be close enough. He wasn’t getting much closer than this to Virgil. There was a catch in his throat with that thought. His eyes went wide. It was working. Logan brought the jacket to his face. This would surely get a result. He sniffed the jacket deeply. “What the hell?” A voice came from behind Logan. He pulled the jacket away and turned around, Virgil was in the doorway. Why couldn’t Virgil just run on a schedule? Logan’s face flushed and his breath stopped. He felt his head get dizzy. “It worked!” Logan announced. He shook the jacket. Virgil wasn’t sure what he’d just walked into. His clothes were all over the floor and Logan was excited about sniffing his hoodie? “What…?” Virgil managed. Logan shook the clothes off his feet and rushed over to Virgil. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil blushed. “I’ve been feeling weird and I went over my symptoms with Remus and we figured out I am allergic to your jacket!” Logan explained. He noticed Virgil’s pale cheeks had gone red. “Wait a minute.” Logan leaned forward, inspecting Virgil’s face. If Virgil was also allergic then maybe they all were. Maybe Thomas was. Virgil wasn’t sure what to do, Logan was so close. His whole chest was full of butterflies, some fluttering into his throat. Instincts took over, but this time it wasn’t flight. Virgil quickly leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Logan’s lips. Just a quick peck, but it was enough to make them both leap back. Like they’d been shocked by electricity. Logan dropped the jacket. Neither moved. Neither spoke. Virgil’s mind was running with anxiety and doubts, Logan was going over the symptoms again. He was feeling them all at once. It wasn’t the jacket. Suddenly a figurative lightbulb lit up. Fast heartbeat, raised temperature, short breath, lightheadedness, tingling, these were things Roman’s songs were about. This was… attraction. Virgil couldn’t believe he’d just done that, he didn’t even ask first. He was embarrassed. He was a terrible person. He’d pushed his feelings on to Logan selfishly. Virgil took off down the hall, covering his face. Logan was frozen for a moment then went after him. “Whoa watch it, Kiddo!” Patton shouted as Virgil pushed past him. Patton with his laundry, like clockwork. Patton looked forward to see Logan also barreling toward him. “Wha slow down!” Logan skidded to a stop in front of Patton. “Apologies.” Logan said breathlessly. Patton looked up at Logan then down the hall where Virgil had just run. “What happened?” Patton asked. Logan wasn’t sure how to answer. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to answer. He knew nothing about attraction. Or romance. He was clueless and he hated it. He looked down and saw Patton’s cat onesie hanging out of the washing basket. It gave him an idea. “Research….” Logan mumbled before running off. Patton was more confused than before.

Logan’s room was dark, a sign of just how focused he was. It was almost like the rest of the room didn’t exist. The only light was the bright double monitors illuminating Logan’s face harshly. Three books laid open against the screens. “That lighting is not flattering, dear.” Roman said to announce his presence. Logan didn’t look away from the screens. Roman took a few steps closer, he could see a few empty mugs and countless papers cluttering Logan’s desk. Logan himself was hunched deeply over his desk, scribbling furiously into a book. Roman put a cautious hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Hey Logan, you doing okay?” Logan’s head snapped backwards, only just realising Roman was in the room. “Perfect perfect Roman you are perfect.” Logan muttered at a nearly incoherent speed. Logan’s eyes were wide and tired, it scared Roman. He pulled himself away from them to examine what was on the screens. “Is that Crazy Rich Asians and… Eat, Pray, Love?” Roman asked. The movies were going fast, playing at double the speed. “Yes.” Logan answered hurriedly. “Well that can’t be a melodic mix- Wait you hate romantic movies.” Roman was confused. Everything about this situation was out of character for Logan. “I came to tell you Patton made breakfast but I fear I stumbled upon something worrying.” “It’s morning?” Logan asked quickly. Roman nodded. Logan thought for a moment. “I should raise it to 2.5 speed…” Logan grabbed his mouse and began adjusting the movies. Roman backed up slightly. “I don’t have a clue what is happening so I’m just gonna leave you to-” Roman began but Logan stood hurriedly and grabbed his arm. “No no no you’re just the person I need!” Logan said, pulling Roman back over. He picked up his notebook and shoved it towards Roman. “I have been isolating the root of romance. I am looking through every romantic book and movie and recording any recurring themes.” Roman couldn’t read the notes, both from the darkness and how messy they were. He looked past Logan back at the screens. “Is that my copy of Boyfriend Material?” Roman pushed past Logan and took the book off the desk. “Yes. And your copy of Fifty Shades Of Grey.” Logan added. Roman blushed. “Uh no… I uh that’s Remus’ clearly.” Roman stammered. “What was this about isolation and themes?” Logan handed the notebook to Roman and wiped his whiteboard clean. He drew a three circle venn diagram. “I have isolated three elements to a successful romantic coupling.” Logan began. He wrote the first element, vulnerability. “Vulnerability. I’ve noticed most courting at some point or another has someone, usually the male, do something embarrassing or risky. I believe this is what you refer to as ‘grand romantic gestures’, correct?” Logan waited for a response. “Well… I guess?” Roman answered. “But what is the poin-'' Logan wasn’t listening. “Second, sacrifice.” Logan wrote the word down in another bubble. “The relationship does not start until one or more people give something up. Usually something that causes figurative friction between them and the other person.” Roman had an objection. “That is a rather cynical way to-” Logan still wasn’t listening. “And finally.” Logan wrote the final element. “Desire. Shared attraction is key to the relationship becoming romantic. If it’s one-sided then everything will fail and the attracted subject will be subject to embarrassment and sadness. If there is no desire then… I mean they just don’t become romantic partners.” Logan finished by writing one final word in the overlapping sections, Romance.  Roman looked over the diagram closely. “May I ask a question?” Roman finally had the chance to speak. Logan made a gesture for him to continue. “Why the sudden interest in how romance works past, and I quote, ‘an uncontrollable and unfortunate chemical reaction’?” Logan’s face flushed although Roman couldn’t tell in the darkness. “I uh… Well I just think… You see…” Logan couldn’t find a way to answer. Roman rolled his eyes, Logan struggled with emotions and abstracts. He tried to rephrase. “Are you planning on being romantic with someone?” Roman gave a simple yes or no. Logan nodded. Now they were getting somewhere. “Has anything happened between you and this guy yet?” Roman was trying to figure out what exactly was happening. “Be more specific.” Logan said. “Has anything that you would classify as romantic happened between you and this guy?” Roman tried again. Logan’s face burned as he recalled the kiss. This time it was enough for Roman to see. He smiled. “Yes…” Logan answered. “Okay well may I suggest one change to your approach?” Roman asked. Logan held out the marker for him. Roman stepped forward and began rubbing off the diagram with his sleeve. Logan panicked and pulled him away. “Whoa wait what was that?” Logan asked, shocked. “Logan, listen to me.” Roman said and grabbed Logan’s arms. “You’re doing this wrong, and I bet you know it.” Logan pushed Roman off. “I don’t know what you mean.” Logan said. Why would he do this if he didn’t think it’d work? Roman clapped his hands and Logan’s lights turned on. “Look around.” Roman demanded, taking Logan’s shoulders again. In the light it looked so much worse. He could see every crumpled note, every coffee stain, every hastily scribbled note, every smudge on his glasses. “Does this look efficient or healthy?” Logan looked across at a mirror. He had dark bags under his eyes and his hair was akin to a bird's nest. “No…” Logan admitted. “But why else would I do this?” Logan’s voice was weak. Roman sat him down on his bed. “You’re confused would be my guess. You’re not used to strong emotions like this so you’re trying to turn them into statistics and formulas.” Logan held his head in his hands. He didn’t like this. Roman looked down softly. “And maybe you’re holding yourself up in your room to avoid Virgil.” Logan reeled back. He didn’t remember telling Roman who he was having romantic feelings for. “How…” Logan tried. “Virgil is also hiding, which isn’t unusual for him but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” Roman explained, sitting next to the other man. Logan fell onto his back. Roman was right, he was confused. This wasn’t his area of expertise, hell that was probably an understatement. “Roman… please help me.” Logan finally asked quietly. “You are the expert. In everything I’ve researched it’s shown as a natural instinct or a happy daze but… I’m not used to emotions I can’t control. It’s overwhelming. I can’t do anything about it.” Roman brought his legs up on the bed to face Logan. “Tell me exactly what happened.” Roman said. Logan covered his face and sighed. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. “I was looking at his face for symptoms of allergies and he kissed me then ran away.” Logan summarised. Roman ignored the first part about allergies, he wasn’t even going to ask. “Heh, I’m surprised he had the guts to make the move. I owe Patton five bucks.” Roman joked. Logan shot a hard glare. “Did you talk to Virgil about it?” Logan sat up with a huff. “No, we haven’t talked since that happened.” Logan clarified. Roman put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Honestly, what did I expect from you two?” Roman sighed. “Can you be serious please?” Logan begged. Roman put up his hands in surrender. “Listen, the solution is simple. Virgil kissed you because he has romantic feelings for you. And you have romantic feelings for him, correct?” Roman already knew the answer but waited for Logan to nod to continue. “So go tell him. Talk to him and be honest about how you feel and what you want.” Roman advised. He really had to explain the basics, huh? Logan looked over confused. “I don’t need flowers or like… fairy lights on a boat in front of the statue of liberty?” Logan asked genuinely. Roman laughed. “Romance isn’t as complicated as you’ve made yourself think it is. As long as you’re open and honest with him you’ll do fine.” Roman looked over Logan once more. “A nap and shower wouldn’t hurt your chances either…”  Roman stood up and collected the mugs from Logan’s desk. Logan began to lay down. “Thank you.” Logan said as Roman reached the door. Roman smiled back and flicked off the light. “For what it’s worth, I believe in you.” Roman said as he shut the door. Logan laid on his back, staring at the roof. His tired brain began planning the script for the coming conversation.

Virgil didn’t know just how long he’d been locked away, curled up in the heaviest fluffiest blanket he had. Loud music blasted through his headphones. His world was crumbling around him but he was paralyzed and couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew that reasonably he could just walk down the hall and talk to Logan, but his fear had tied him to his bed. Every worst case scenario danced around his room for him to watch helplessly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Maybe the Others would take him back? Maybe he could just disappear into the imagination? He could probably convince one of the twins to conjure him a nice replica of Sally's tower from Nightmare Before Christmas. A loud knock managed to just get through Virgil’s headphones. “Not now!” Virgil shouted weakly. He was too busy having a crisis to talk to anyone.Whoever it was knocked again. Virgil took off his headphones. “Go away!” He shouted with a bit more strength. “Virgil, it’s Logan.” The knocker announced. Virgil nearly fell off the bed, his chest which had felt hollow seconds before exploded with activity. He couldn’t speak. “We should talk.” Logan said after a minute. Possibilities rushed around quick enough to crack Virgil’s skull. He stood slowly and took a small step towards the door, still silent. “Virgil please, we should both have a chance to be honest about our feelings.” Logan’s stoic voice cracked. Virgil walked up to the door. He knew Logan was persistent, he wouldn’t give up. Virgil rested his head against the door. “I’m scared…” Virgil couldn’t manage any more than that. The doorknob turned and Virgil took a step back. Logan didn’t enter the room, just standing in the doorway. “I think I’m scared too…” Logan said weakly. Virgil looked across the room at his clock. “It’s four pm, shouldn’t you be reading?” Virgil said to try and lighten the mood, it worked as Logan laughed slightly. “Well I never really could fit you into my schedule...” Logan joked. “May I please enter?” Virgil took a step away, signalling for Logan to come in. Stepping across the threshold made it feel real, Logan realised just what he was about to do. Virgil shut the door and stood there awkwardly. Logan turned to face him. “I’m guessing this is about… y’know…” Virgil tried to avoid the word. Logan nodded. “You kissed me…” Logan finished. Virgil bristled at the bluntness. Neither knew what to do, they just stood there. “I’m sorry.” Virgil apologised. He wasn’t sure if it was for the kiss, or the awkwardness. Logan looked over at Virgil’s bed. “Perhaps it would be better if we made ourselves comfortable?” Logan said. Virgil nodded. They both awkwardly walked over, sitting down on opposite sides of the bed. They both stared at the wall across from them, scared to look at the other. Neither could speak. What were they meant to say? Thoughts and fears wrapped around Virgil’s brain, squeezing his brain to say something but nothing came out. Logan looked at Virgil and saw how scared he looked. He had to say something. “Do you think I’m attractive?” Logan asked quickly. Virgil’s head snapped to Logan, his face glowing red. How was he meant to answer that? Why was Logan so calm? Did Logan hate him? Logan hated him. He had ruined everything. He was a terrible person. Logan noticed Virgil’s breaths quicken, his eyes faded in and out of focus. Virgil rocked back and forth slightly, his thoughts couldn’t stop. Logan moved closer as Virgil began pulling at his bangs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Virgil repeated weakly. Logan put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, Virgil didn’t even notice the touch. “It’s okay.” Logan tried to reassure. “Focus on breathing.” Virgil couldn’t hear Logan, his thoughts were too loud. They were blocking out everything, he couldn’t escape. They curled around his throat and blocked out the air. They blocked his eyes in the form of hot stinging tears. They blocked his ears so he could only hear the darkness of his own mind. “I ruined everything. I’m sorry. Fuck.” Virgil kept muttering weakly. Logan got closer again. He pulled Virgil’s hand away from his head so he wasn’t pulling his hair. He put the hand against his chest. “Virgil, you didn’t ruin anything.” Logan tried to reason with Virgil but could barely scratch at his swirling thoughts. “Please try and breathe with me.” He just needed to get through. Virgil began scratching at his collarbone with the hand Logan wasn’t holding. Logan knelt in front of Virgil and grabbed his other hand, trying to stop any damage. “No no please no.” Virgil kept muttering through heavy breaths. Logan tried to get close enough for Virgil to see but not hit his head. “Virgil you can breathe, just breathe please.” Logan begged. Virgil shook his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t. Virgil began shaking his head more violently. Logan’s hands were already taken up. He let go of Virgil’s hands and opted to pull him down into a full embrace, pressing Virgil’s head against his shoulder with one hand and rubbing his back gently with the other. Virgil's arms stuck out weirdly for a moment before grabbing Logan’s shirt. He pulled at the fabric desperately. Not to try and escape but just to get hold of something. Virgil felt the gentle strokes on his back, the only thing that broke through the darkness. He tried to breathe with them. He had to. Logan noticed Virgil’s breaths become a little deeper, he realised he’d somehow gotten through. “Virgil, you're doing great. Keep going, please.” Logan’s voice was a little panicked even though he tried to stay stoic. Virgil kept timing the breaths with the strokes on his back. Slowly they became deeper, then less shaky. Slowly the darkness gave way to a light dizzy feeling from the lack of air. He stopped tugging at Logan’s shirt which was fully untucked at the back now. “I’m sorry…”  Virgil managed weakly, this time less of a worried mumble and more a real apology. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Logan said. Virgil pulled away from Logan, their legs stil knotted together but leaning instead on the bed so he could see Logan. His breaths still laboured. Logan grabbed Virgil’s hand. “I want us to be honest, please. Can you do that?” Logan asked. Virgil nodded slightly. “I will.” Virgil agreed. “But please don’t be mad at me.” Logan pushed some damp hair off Virgil’s face and nodded. Virgil nodded back. Logan thought carefully on what to say. “Can you tell me why you kissed me?” Logan asked. He wanted to know. Virgil did too. He looked away. “I don’t know.” Virgil answered after a beat. “You were close and I got flustered because… I really like you…” Virgil had finally admitted it. Logan’s heart felt weird. “You can ask me something.” Logan said. They both had things they wanted to know, it would be more efficient to take turns. Virgil thought for a moment. “Are you mad at me?” Virgil asked. Logan laughed lightly, he squeezed Virgil’s hand. “Not at all.” Logan reassured. “Did you enjoy kissing me?” Virgil squirmed. “I felt bad for not asking, and I was scared you would hate me.” Virgil answered. “Did you enjoy it?” Logan thought for a moment. It was a very quick kiss, but thinking about it made him smile. “I think I did.” Logan said. “It made me realise I have romantic feelings for you.” Virgil smiled slightly before covering his face with his arm, his chin resting on his knee. Logan felt himself blush. “Can I kiss you again?” Virgil asked quietly. Logan laughed. “I think it was my turn for a question…” Logan joked. He moved Virgil’s arm out of the way and rested his chin on Virgil’s knee too. Their noses touching and their eyes looking deeply into each other's. “Can you kiss me again?” Virgil closed the gap and pressed another quick kiss against Logan’s lips. Another sweet and light peck. They both smiled, absolutely giddy. Virgil put a hand on the back of Logan’s neck, making small circles with his thumb. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Virgil asked. Logan answered by leaning into another kiss, deeper than the last two. More hurried and warm. They stayed there until they were breathless. “I think I can fit that in my schedule.” Logan breathed happily as they pulled away. “You know I’m not going to stick to it.” Virgil said as he grabbed Logan’s tie, pulling him into another kiss. The world melted away around them, minutes ticked by carelessly. Maybe he didn’t need to schedule everything.

[hannahdra-ws]

and now (you’re hyper paranoid)

Summary: 

hypochondria; n; abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease.

(or: Janus has a very bad time.)

Romantic, established dukeceit

TWs: hypochondria, covid-19, panic attacks, unspecified eating disorder, coughing, crying

----------

Through the uneasy feeling, Janus knew he was being a little unrealistic.

He's perfectly healthy, he rarely gets sick. He hasn't even had the flu before. He's double vaccinated, and he wears his mask everywhere. He's certainly never gotten food poisoning before.

So he doesn't know why he's freaking out so much.

read on ao3

Janus stared at the plate in front of him, heart thumping so loudly he was almost sure the others at the table could hear it. It wasn't anything major, it was just meatloaf with a side of mashed potatoes and corn, and Patton and Logan (mostly Logan) spent a lot of time on it, so there's no reason he shouldn't eat it.

The others are enjoying it too, bantering and joking across the table without a care in the world. Roman was basically sitting in Logan's lap, and Four Idiots (as Janus and Remus dubbed them as) kept sending each other equally besotted expressions. Remus was next to him, gesturing animatedly while he talked with one hand and the other hand tightly gripped in Janus's own.

He felt off kilter and shaky, watching everyone eat their food. Janus knows he should be eating too, and logically he knows that there is a very small chance of him getting food poisoning. But that doesn't make the debilitating anxiety welling up inside him go away.

Oh God, he's going to get sick, somethings wrong with the meat he'll get sick and vo-

Ugh. Virgil's the one that has the anxiety problem, not him. Why did his brother have to give him his mental illness? Bitch.

Suddenly, a loud noise happened, forcefully dragging Janus out of his mind. It was Roman, coughing loudly. He kept hacking, and hacking, and Janus abruptly felt faint. 

The others were watching with concern, and Logan was patting Roman on the back to get whatever had lodged in his throat out. Eventually, he did clear his airways, after a long breath in and a particularly violent cough. 

Patton inquired if he was okay, and Roman nodded, face red and tears streaming down his face from coughing so much. "Sorry, I choked." His voice was scratchy from coughing. But he was smiling, and that should have been an indicator that he was okay, he just choked, he's fine-

Remus made some comment, and Virgil flipped him off while still looking worriedly in Roman's direction, but Janus suddenly couldn't hear through the ringing in his ears. Remus must have noticed either the way he abruptly went still, or the fact that he had barely eaten anything, because he squeezed his hand in question. Janus abruptly stood up from the table, almost knocking his chair down in the process.

Remus frowned, a small, confused thing, "Jaybird? You alright?"

"I'm sorry, if you'll excuse me," Janus managed to choke out, before quickly ripping his hand from Remus's and stumbling away, ignoring the protests and calls from the table behind him. 

He hopes no one noticed that he didn't finish his meal.

----

Janus stumbled to his room, heart beating out of his chest, thump, thump, thump. He quickly locked the door and slid his back down to the floor, digging his gloved hands in his hair and pulling.

Roman's dry hacking wouldn't leave his head, oh God he sounded sick, but he's not he just choked he's fine, he doesn't have covid none of you do you're all vaccinated, fuck-

Janus was acutely aware that he was crying, now, his chest tight and his throat sore from the tears. He was trembling, small and terrified against the back of his door, and he couldn't stop thinking.

Janus had to go back to school in a week. School, with its crowded areas and unvaccinated people and possible removal of masks. The very thought of it makes his heart jump into his throat, dizzy with terror.

What if one of them had covid, and we just didn't have any symptoms, what if the vaccine doesn't work against the variant, fuck, he's going to get it, maybe he already has it, he's going to die he's going to die he can't breathe-

He suddenly had the image of his own funeral in his head, his boyfriend and his friends and his brother at his own funeral, crying softly and holding each other. He envisioned himself in the afterlife, waiting for them, watching Remus suffer alone because he wasn't there-

And that horrifying image in his head is what turned his soft crying into desperate sobs, shaking and pulling his hair so tight it stung. 

And that's also when he finally registered the frantic knocking on the door, how long has that been going on? and Remus's panicked voice coming from the other side.

"Jan? Baby, I can hear you crying, fuck, are you hurt? If you want me to fuck off, tell me, but- Oh, Jay, please answer, even a knock, just let me know if you're alright-"

Janus reached with trembling hands to unlock the door, even as his mind went no don't he could be sick, and he quickly moved away from the door a little so Remus wouldn't smack him in the face with the door when he came bursting in.

And burst in he did. In a flurry of motion, Remus quickly came in and shut the door behind him, then sat on the floor with panicked, worried eyes looking at Janus.

"Janus? Can you- fuck, I'm not good at this- can I touch you?"

Somewhere, in the back behind the panic, Janus found his stumbling endearing.

Janus debated for half a second, social distance 6 feet apart you'll die you'll die you'll die, before crumbling to his desire to be held.

"Pl- Please, hold me, I- I can't-" Janus's voice came out absolutely pathetic, broken up in sobs and small and trembling, but Remus paid it no mind. He quickly scooped up Janus in his arms, and Janus held onto him for dear life, like he'll be swept away if he doesn't. He cries so hard he's almost heaving, shaking like a leaf in Remus's strong, tattooed arms.

Oh, Remus, make it go away, He thought, and then cried harder because what a childish thing to think.

"Shh, shh, you're alright, I've got you. Can you breathe with me, darling? In and out, you're okay," Remus's voice was calm and soothing, the panic deliberately gone from his voice, probably to not make him feel worse. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerating his breaths so that Janus could follow along.

Janus tried to follow the rhythm, hiccupping through his tears. He stumbled a few times, and it took a bit, but he eventually was able to settle his breathing. His tears had started to slow, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly childish. 

He just had a breakdown over something so stupid. It's not like he's the only one affected by covid, they're in a fucking pandemic, and he has no right to panic when he's not even sick. He's fine. 

Janus and Remus had only been together for a few months, so Remus hadn't seen this side of Janus yet. This was sure to make him leave. Fuck, he's so stupid.

"There you are, baby," Remus crooned with a soothing voice, and Janus flushed despite himself. Remus wiped away one of his lingering tears, his palm cupping Janus's cheek, and Janus leaned into the warmth, suddenly exhausted. He felt boneless and hollowed out inside of Remus's arms, like his limbs were made of lead.

"I'm sorry," Janus croaked, and Remus was shushing him before he could get more words out.

"No, shut up, you're not allowed to apologize for having a panic attack. You have nothing to apologize for." Remus was strong and steady, and Janus opened his eyes that he didn't mean to close. For some reason, he wanted to deny that what just happened was a panic attack. "You're okay, love, we're okay."

Janus gave a small laugh in spite of himself, and Remus huffed, indignant. "What?"

"Nothing, just- you use a l- lot more cutesy nicknames when you're calming me down." Janus noted, and Remus puffed up like a peacock, but he was smiling. 

"Would you rather I use my normal names? J-anus? Two Dicks? Hot ass? Da-"

Janus cut him off with laughter and a smack to the arm, "Shut up, you awful man, that wasn't an invitation-" 

Remus was laughing too, grin blinding. When they both stopped laughing, they just sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Remus traced the vitiligo patches on Janus's back through the clothes (Janus flushed at the fact that Remus just knew where they were) and Janus traced the tattoos on Remus's brown skin.

After several long, quiet moments, Remus's quiet voice broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instantly, Janus went tense, before shaking his head no. He couldn't explain it without sounding stupid, and he didn't want Remus to leave.

Besides, there was nothing Remus could truly say that he hasn't heard before. 

Nothing will make it go away.

Remus nodded, content with not pushing. "Well, I say we move the cuddling to the bed and not the floor, how does that sound?"

Before Janus could respond, Remus just scooped him up, effortlessly in the air. Janus squeaked and held onto Remus before Remus just dumped him down unceremoniously onto the bed, bouncing a little on the springs. 

Remus laid down on his back, and Janus immediately crawled to him and curled up next to him, laying his head on Remus's chest and Remus wrapping an arm around him.

"Nap time," Janus mumbled into Remus's shirt. Janus felt more than heard him chuckle.

"Well, if the king says it's nap time, then I have no choice but to obey." Janus swatted at him lazily, and he couldn't see it, but he bet Remus grinned. Remus laid a quick kiss to his temple and his heart swelled.

The worry still pricked in the back of Janus's mind. He was sure that later, he was going to freak out over this moment, that the sudden contact made him contract an illness.

But right now, at this moment, he's fine. He's with his boyfriend, and his other friends and his brother are in the house somewhere too, no doubt worried about Janus. They're all vaccinated, healthy, and safe. 

I'm okay, he thought, the thought not panic induced this time, and fell asleep next to Remus, and dreamt of nothing but warmth.

[dalamjisung]

team wang ❃ jackson wang

word count: 1899

genre: slice of life, fluff, team wang!jackson

member: jackson x reader

description: this is it– all he’s ever wanted: jackson is his own boss now. Team Wang will now have his undivided attention and, well, you couldn’t be prouder. You’ve always been Team Wang, anyways. 

“Delivery,” A voice calls through the building’s intercom, and you try to remember of any recent purchase made from Amazon, but you just can’t.

“Whom for?” You ask, and if Jackson was here, he’d be proud. He always told you to be more aware of security, considering the amount of ill intent directed towards public figures like him. You’d always roll your eyes whenever he lectured you about opening the door for the food delivery man without asking for an identification from the other person, but you’d let it go whenever he hugged you and mumbled in your ear, I just want you to be safe.

“Uh… Jackson Wang?” The man responds. “From Team Wang…?”

The uncertainty in the man’s voice is enough to make you frown, but you tell him to wait downstairs, that you’ll go get the parcels yourself. Putting your shoes on, you go down, passing through Mr. Min, the building’s security guard.

“Can you sign here, ma’am?” The delivery man asks, giving you an electronic pad. You do as instructed and he starts giving you the many boxes piled behind him.

“Wait… is that all for Jackson Wang?” You gasp, looking behind to wave the security guard over. “I might need some help, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Min smiles and both of you work on taking all twelve large boxes to your apartment. After you’re done, you send him back to his post with a ‘thank you’ sandwich and cup of coffee; he’s always been incredibly helpful and kind to you, during the years that you and Jackson had been together, and you can’t help but see Mr. Min as a friend. He’s seen you at your best and at your worst, and if not for his comforting words, sometimes you don’t know what would’ve happened to you after a fight with Jackson, or after a particular hard day at work. He’s always spared you a few words of wisdom, a few moments of hope, and he’s never let you walk out the door with unresolved issues.

“Ah, Seun-ie,” You tut under your breath, looking at the three piles of boxes. “Why did–“

“I’m home!” His melodic voice echoes in the apartment and you chuckle at his clear excitement. “Is it here? Did it arrive? Y/N, did something arrive for me today?”

“Uh,” You turn around to face your fiancee. “I’d say so, yes.”

His eyes shine with contained happiness and he drops his bag by the entrance, running to the many boxes to inspect all of them.

“Babe can you get me a knife?”

You roll your eyes, walking to the kitchen and coming back with scissors instead. You didn’t want him to get lost in his packages and end up hurting himself.

“Here you go, babe,” You help him move the boxes to the living room, where together you cut through all the cardboard. As you two work, he tells you about his day at the studio, about the songs he’s producing, about all the content he’s posting on social media– and you soak it all in, loving the way he rambles on and on about all that he did, all that he couldn’t do before. Because of the restrictions of his old agency, Jackson always talked about all the things he wanted to do, but rarely ever about the things he did. It’s been a week now, and ever since their last performance under their past contract, Jackson’s been much more open to trying out all of the things he talked about before. I’m my own boss now, baby, he’d giggle at random time. I can do what I want.

“Jacks,” You call, looking at him while resting your chin on your hand, a small side adorning your face.

“Yes, my love?” He looks at you from behind a large box, eyes wide and round.

“I’m proud of you,” You tell him, and he blushes. “Really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” He mutters, looking down at the deliveries. “It means a lot coming form you…”

“Well, then you should believe it,” You get up and kiss his cheek on the way back to the kitchen, making some coffee for both of you. “Want milk or not?”

“No, thank you!”

Routine feels like this– this normalcy that you sense from having Jackson in the living room, humming random tunes that are bound to become singles, while you make some coffee; the same normalcy you felt this morning, when he woke you up with breakfast in bed, and the same normalcy you’ll feel tonight, when you both scroll through twitter together, like you’ve done most nights, enjoying the fact that now Bambam has nothing better to do than roast people publicly.

“Y/N, love, come here!”

“Just a second!” You put his coffee in his favorite lime green mug, and, taking your own mug, you waddle back to the living room. “Yes, honey?”

According to the other guys, you and Jackson had always been the most lovey-dovey couple, abusing pet names like there is no tomorrow, but you to always laugh it off, enjoying the little world you create every time he calls you a different lovely nickname.

“Can you try this on for me?” He holds a black velvet puffer jacket and throws it to you. “It’s a size up than your usual, but I think you’ll look fire with an oversized one.”

His enthusiasm is palpable and when you take off your hoodie to try on the jacket, you hear him giggling.

“Are you filming me?” You question once you notice the phone in his hands.

“Of course I’m filming you,” Jackson scoffs as if you had asked the most obvious question in the world. “You look hot wearing Team Wang design.”

You only realize you are wearing Team Wang from head to toe once he points out; you have one of their sweatpants that you hastily put on this morning to finish some work due in the afternoon, and underneath the hoodie, also belonging to your beloved’s company, you had one of their white t-shirts. 

“Oh my god,” You gasp. “I feel so expensive.”

“Wha–“

“I could never afford this,” You mumble under your breath, laughing at his reaction.

“Just try the jacket on,” He grumbles, and when you finally do what he says, the excitement is back. Jackson gets into business mode and soon you are being prepped for a photoshoot by your fiancee. He positions you near the window, and, using the sunlight in his favor, gives you one of the new collection’s cap. Now you truly are Team Wang from head to toe, and he snaps picture after picture, directing you to the best of his abilities. You laugh at the faces he makes, and you enjoy the attention, still not being used to receiving so much of Jackson for so long. Usually, he’d been whisked away already, something about a schedule to follow through. But now, as he showers you with compliments, feeling proud of his work, you feel like he is truly happy.

“Let me see, let me see,” You say after he’s done, jumping where he is sitting on the couch looking through the many photos he took. “You’re not going to post that, right?”

His head snaps up at you, and he is quick to put his phone aside and pull you to sit on his lap.

“Why not?” He questions, looking deeply into your eyes. “They came out amazing, baby!”

“Jackson,” You chuckle, loving his playfulness. “You can hire the best models out there to promote and display your creation if you want… you are not posting a picture of me as a model.”

“But you are a model,” He raises the phone for you to see the album he already created for the shoot. “My model.”

“Jackson–“

“No, I think you don’t understand,” He chuckles a bit, looking down at where one of his hands hold one of yours. He is blushing, and you caress his face with the other hand. “You’ve been my model for a long while now, Y/N. On many different aspects of life. The way you think, the way you speak, the way you act– It’s always been a huge influence for me; always pushing me to be a better version of myself. I love you, yes, but more than that, I admire you. You’re my idol, baby.”

You don’t know how to express yourself in words– you think there might be none, as you kiss him senseless. With a permanent smile, you kiss him, the man of your dreams and the man of your reality. The one that always tried to fix everything, even if there is nothing to fix; the man that works so hard to provide only the best for himself and those around him; the man that promised to love you forever. You kiss him the only way you see possible. You kiss him with all you have. Love. Passion. Admiration. It’s all a mess of emotions that you can hope get through to him. He pulls away first, pecking your lips slowly and firmly, and then snuggles into you, pulling you down to lay on the couch, and you almost laugh at how comic you two must look, surrounded by boxes.

You can’t help but notice six boxes left unopened.

“Jacks,” You poke his cheek and he hums. “What’s in those boxes?”

He raises his head to look where you are pointing.

“Ah,” He smiles and wiggles his brows. “Those are special treats for the guys. I always sent them previews, ever since I started Team Wang… I don’t see why not keep tradition. I also added some things for their girls, now that they can publicly wear them.”

“That’s really nice of you, my love,” You smile at him, hugging him tighter. “I’m sure they’ll love it. They always comment on it whenever I wear Team Wang.”

“Do you think they’ll like it?” He suddenly asks, a bit nervous. “I designed the bucket hat thinking of Jaebeom hyung, and I think Bam will really enjoy the velvet vest but–“

You shut him up with a kiss, straddling his waist. When you pull away, you can see the anxiety in his face; with Jackson, it’s always in the eyes– all his fears, all his accomplishments, all his feelings. You can read him like a book and you think it’s adorable how much he still dories about his group’s– his family’s– opinion of his endeavors, even though he proved himself again and again that no matter what, GOT7 will always walk beside him, supporting him during everything.

“I think they will absolutely love it,” You scoff, hands holding his face in place to look straight into his surprised eyes. “You know they’ll absolutely love it.”

He nods.

“And do you know why?”

He nods once again.

“Why?” You ask, wanting to hear if from his mouth.

“Because they love me,” He smiles, hands moving up and down on your thighs. “And because I love them, too.”

“And?”

“And because they’re proud of me,” Jackson’s voice grows stronger and more confident with each word that leaves his mouth. “And because I’m proud of me.”

“That’s right, baby,” You soften at his wide smile. “We’re all proud of you. We’re all Team Wang.”

-----------------------------------------

Well... we really are all Team Wang ;) What do you think of this one, my lovelies? I can just imagine Jackson with his cute smile, getting hyped up. If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark, pt. 4

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

a/n: Everyone better have their toothbrush ready bc this is about to rot your teeth right out your head. This concludes my brief flirtation with happiness, I hope it’s everything you wanted. Back to regular programming after this. ~2.4k

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. - Sarah Williams

Dysania, Hotch thought to himself, dysania is what Spencer said it’s called. Before he’d started spending so much time talking with Spencer he’d never known there were official terms for so many of the things he took for granted, things he thought were just a part of life. This one for example, “dysania”: the state of finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Surely everyone found this hard to do he had countered. Not really, I guess, Spencer had shrugged. Not everyone. They had both grown quiet, considering the spaces between the words, the information unintentionally shared. These types of moments happened often and Hotch wasn’t all too sure how he felt about them. It was uncomfortable to share about himself, but it seemed to happen so easily with Spencer. Like some piece of him was reaching out, pushing past his normal guard to grasp at the other man, to try to pull him close with details he’d never intended to share with anyone.

Spencer responded kindly, often matching with his own stories, his own fears. It felt so natural, the exchange of ideas and the flow back and forth between mind and heart. Spencer, who so often found it tricky to connect the cues some people were born understanding, had no trouble understanding Aaron’s small hesitations, his silences following the realization that he’d just said something out loud that would normally remain internal. Spencer was guarded too, in different ways and for different reasons, but the walls were there nevertheless. He’d had trouble all his life understanding what people expected from him so he’d learned to minimize, to live inside his own head. He’d grown in his time at the BAU, found friendship and family where he hadn’t realized he was lacking. But there were always some things he held back.

People loved to be dazzled by his intellect, by the way he could remember the most inconsequential detail in a text or connect an obscure reference to its source. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed that part of himself as well. But sometimes it felt hollow, just a party trick he was brought out to perform and then put away until wanted again. The other things, the personal things, he had never learned how to share those and had always figured no one was that interested anyway. Somewhere along the way it became a compulsion to hide certain details, convinced that if everyone knew they would reject him. His mother and her illness, his own doubts about his stability, his need for help at times; he pulled those secrets in close, wrapping his fingers around them and squeezing until they stopped squirming so much. It wasn’t until he listened to Aaron haltingly give context to an offhanded comment that he dared to pull out some of his own worries. So they clumsily exchanged confidences, slowly building a new structure with each brick they pulled out of their walls.

Knowing the term didn’t help with the issue though. Didn’t change the fact that without the pressing responsibility of a weekday, where people expected him to be certain places at certain times, Hotch was finding himself unable to get out of bed. He stared at the clock, narrowing his eyes, disbelieving what the numbers were telling him. How could it be that someone who slept so little could spend so much time laying down?

He rolled away from the cursed illumination and glared at the wall instead. He could see Rossi’s confrontation played out on the blank white surface. As if he had been outside his own body, he watched his reactions, studying the degree of sincerity. Was he really making logical decisions or was he only wishful? He needed to talk to Spencer, needed to come up with a plan before this got out on its own. He had considered that option too—not doing anything and letting everyone else deal with their own feelings. He was tempted but he knew in the long run that would not work out well. He was still the leader of his team, despite whatever feelings he was finding himself caught up in. If he acted soon, he could still control this.

His thoughts returned to scolding him about how he should get up, take care of some errands he had been putting off. At least do some laundry after being gone all week. He closed his eyes imagining the laundry, the clean warm fabric pressed against his face. One of the few reliable pleasures in life. He rolled onto his back and stretched his long limbs away from himself. He could do that at least.

There was a brief moment of anxiety as he willed his muscles to contract, to pull him upright, unsure if they would cooperate this time. Thankfully they did and he shuffled around the room, collecting errant socks and emptying his go-bag that he had left on a chair the night before. He had managed to get the laundry started and was fumbling with the coffee maker when he heard a knock at his door. He spilled the grounds as his head snapped up to glare at the sound. He swore and did his best to sweep what he could salvage into the filter, placing it correctly and flipping the switch before going to investigate the intrusion.

He found Spencer standing outside his door looking a little guilty. They eyed each other, Hotch in sweats and t-shirt, hair standing up at odd angles, Spencer dressed for a day out in cool late winter sun, his favorite purple scarf wrapped around his neck for luck. Spencer’s eyes darted around the room behind Hotch. It was dark, the only light coming in from one small window. The rest of the curtains were drawn and he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, not needing them to take care of basic tasks.

“Sorry, I tried to call,” Spencer wrung his hands as he made an effort to stop staring at the gloom in front of him.

Hotch thought about his phone, how he had purposely turned it off, something he rarely did. He had been so tired last night, he’d needed to ensure a few hours without someone requiring his attention. He’d felt a thrill of rebellion as he’d tossed it aside but he must be really out of it to not have checked it yet today. After a moment of awkwardness while they both contemplated how they ended up here, Hotch invited Spencer in for coffee.

“It should be ready in minute,” he said while waving him inside.

Spencer walked toward the kitchen where he remained standing, hesitant. There had been a wild impulse that drove him here, even when Hotch didn’t answer his phone. He’d been repeating conversations with himself, things he needed to say, imagining all the different responses he might get. His mind had been so full of these scenarios as he made his way from his apartment, but now that he was here he wondered if maybe this hadn’t been better left alone. Who was he to demand things?

“You can put your stuff down,” Aaron said with a slight smile.

“What?” He looked at his bag that he was clutching tightly, his knuckles turning white. Thoughts unmistakable as they ran across his face, he glanced around, trying to decide where to put it. Trying to get his bearings in this unfamiliar environment.

“Here,” Aaron held out his hand, offering to to take it. Spencer shrugged it off and handed it over to Aaron who set it on the dining table. Meanwhile Spencer sat on the edge of one of the bar stools and unwound his scarf, hands too nervous to stay still, and set it on the stool next to him. Aaron returned to the kitchen and pulled out a pair of mugs. He didn’t bother to ask how Spencer liked his coffee, everyone already knew that deviancy. Instead he just handed him the box of sugar, a spoon and a full mug. Spencer kicked his heels against the rungs of the stool.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling into the warm curls of steam. Hotch hummed, leaning back against the counter, his own mug wrapped tightly in his fingers. He was awake but he wasn’t fully registering what was happening. He hoped the coffee would alleviate that feeling.

“Sorry to just show up, I was going for a walk and…” Spencer trailed off, hearing the excuse he had prepared out loud, he found it sounded false. He rubbed his thumb against the warm mug. He inhaled deeply, then said, “I wanted to see you.”

He looked up to check Aaron’s reaction. Frustratingly he didn’t appear to react at all, looking back steadily, absorbing the information. Then he nodded, as if he was answering a question, maybe a response to something in his own mind.

“It’s ok, I wanted to see you as well. We need to talk.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide at that but Aaron waved his hand and tried not to laugh outright at the horrified expression. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Spencer relaxed a little, enough to sip his coffee again. Hotch could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. He rubbed his head, worsening the disarray there and sighed. He needed to level the playing field somehow. Spencer made a risky move coming here unannounced. The power imbalance of the situation, already uneven for so many other reasons, was not going to help them get through this conversation. They needed neutral ground, somewhere they were both comfortable, or at least distracted enough, to talk about their feelings without becoming so anxious they never really said anything.

“Let me take a shower and then we can get out of here.”

“Oh, ok, we don’t have to, I just…”

“Spencer, I’m sure you didn’t want to spend the day in my apartment,” he said firmly. He let his eyes scan around the room, seeing it from another’s perspective. It was barely lived in; even when he was physically present he wasn’t living there. There were no personal touches, no paint on the wall, no photos. It was only the shell of a home. He had done all his living in the home he’d shared with Haley and Jack. There had been no reason to try to build any of that again on his own. “We could go to the Science Museum?”

“Oh, I love that place,” Spencer sounded both excited and relieved.

Hotch gulped the rest of his coffee, ignoring the burn on the roof of his mouth. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Spencer stayed put for several minutes after he left the room. Frozen in his seat, afraid to touch anything else, certain someone as deliberate as Aaron would notice anything out of place. But he had been welcomed in, a voice in his mind argued. It was the same voice that had pushed him along all the way to this point. The same voice that insisted what was happening was real and wasn’t going to let him worry it away.

He forced himself to stand up, carrying his coffee cup through the room, drawn like a magnet to the bookshelves. It was a little dark but up close he could read the titles. They had talked about books plenty during their late night conversations, he knew Aaron was a big reader. But there was something different about seeing the tangible evidence of that, the wrinkled bindings, the books stacked horizontally where he had run out of space on the shelf so he’d had to fit them where he could. There was an organization to the shelves, though it wasn’t immediately apparent. Perhaps the only thing in the apartment that felt alive, it was obvious that someone was regularly pulling books off and replacing others. He ran his index finger along the spine of one, thinking about the discussion they'd had about it. He was about to pull it off the shelf when there was a voice just behind him.

“Find anything good?”

He twitched, pulling his hand back, thankful that he’d finished his coffee so the movement didn’t cause any spills. He turned to look at Aaron, dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, hair still a little damp. They smiled at each other.

“Do you want any more? I probably have some to-go cups.”

Spencer shook his head and passed the empty mug to Hotch’s outstretched hand.

“Ok, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

He left to take the mug to the kitchen and grab his keys. Spencer’s scarf was still on the stool so he grabbed it and headed to the front door. There Spencer was standing holding his bag, not looking quite as nervous as before.

“You forgot this.” Without warning, he stepped in close to loop it carefully behind Spencer’s neck. He could feel Spencer staring at him but he avoided his gaze, operating on instinct. He didn’t let go of the tail ends of the scarf, playing with the fringe between his fingers. Neither man moved, their bodies dangerously close. He risked a look into Spencer’s face and found him watching intently. Aaron started to inhale, to say something to break the tension, when Spencer leaned forward and pressed his mouth against his lips. It was surprisingly soft, traces of mint and coffee mingling pleasantly. Aaron couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Spencer rocked back, looking for approval in the other man’s face, tentative but also absolutely certain that he’d done the right thing. He barely had a second to confirm the happiness on Aaron’s face before he was pulled forward by the ends of his scarf, this time to be met with a deeper kiss. A kiss that left no room for questions about where they stood. Spencer wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, breaking away from the kiss and burying his face in the hollow of his shoulder. He felt overwhelmed as his blood pulsed loudly through his veins. Eyes closed tightly against the warm skin, he did his best just to breathe.

Aaron rubbed his back lightly, understanding, waiting for Spencer’s senses to calm. After a minute, Spencer pulled away a little, just enough to see Aaron’s face. A large hand cupped his face, thumb running softly along the cheekbone. He closed his eyes, focusing everything on that touch. He’d thought about this moment a lot, anticipating the multitude of different outcomes. Now that it was real he needed to remember every detail exactly as it was. He covered Aaron’s hand with his own, looking into his dark eyes again.

“Let’s go.”

[king-finnigan]

Could I request some cold calculating bamf Jaskier, like using poisons etc :O Thank you

CW: slight mentions of animal cruelty and domestic abuse. also straight-up murder.

Geralt doesn’t notice at first. It’s only when Eskel points out, one winter at Kaer Morhen, that the Count of Ironwick recently died in his sleep, apparently, that he starts to think that maybe something’s up. 

It’s because he’d recently passed through Ironwick, before he headed to Kaer Morhen. Hell, he’d even taken a contract from the count himself, and the man had seemed in perfectly good health. Sure, Geralt can’t say he mourns the count’s death - the man was an absolute bastard, making his citizens pay way more taxes than was considered reasonable, only to spend it on concubines and golden trinkets - but it is suspicious. 

But he decides it’s none of his business. It never is - he’s a Witcher, after all, and Witchers aren’t supposed to interfere with human politics. If he was, he would’ve run a sword through the bastard himself, but that is neither here nor there. 

So he brushes it off.

---

The Alderman of Salthold dies a few days after Geralt’s passed through town. His cause of death is a topic of heavy discussion in the surrounding towns, for the next few weeks - which is how Geralt found out in the first place. Apparently, the man had tripped over a rug in his room, and had fallen from his fifth-story window. 

A suspicious death altogether. When Geralt asks Jaskier what he thinks, the bard merely shrugs. “Don’t really care,” he says while he continues scribbling in his notebook. Got what he deserved either way.” His face darkens, and Geralt frowns. “I’m sure the horses in his stables are happy to have him gone.”

The shadow disappears from Jaskier’s face, and he smiles up at Geralt, changing the subject. 

---

The Baroness of Crowside falls ill on the second day Geralt and Jaskier spend at her court. She seemed in pretty poor health when they arrived, but nothing to warrant her sudden and untimely death, a few days later. Sure, he’s glad to know that her heirs will at least pay Geralt for ridding the town of a pack of Barghests - because clearly the Baroness wasn’t planning on paying him or any of her servants - but it sure is... suspicious.

---

He starts to notice this pattern more and more often, after that. People meeting their untimely death after it is revealed to Geralt and Jaskier that they’re horrible people who do horrible things. He finds out after a few months that it’s not just nobles this is happening to; he just knew about those because they’re public figures, so their death is more noticable. 

No, this is happening nearly every time they pass through a town and see someone hurting others or hurting animals, or something of the like. The farmer that malnourished his cows is found a few days later trampled by the very herd he starved; no one mentions the fact that his throat was cut. The healer in town who was using his position of power to take advantage of people dies in an explosion in his laboratory, even though he was highly-skilled and very experienced. The smith who beat his family gets crushed under the spare anvil he’d suspended from the ceiling, even though the metal chains were strong and brand new.

Suspicious death after suspicious death, in nearly a quarter the towns they pass through, only days after they left, sometimes even while they’re there, still.

It’s embarrassing that he doesn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together until he wakes up in the middle of the night in their modest campsite, and finds Jaskier gone. 

He looks around, frowning, straining his ears to listen for any sound of the bard. The worry grows when he doesn’t hear a heartbeat, footsteps, or soft humming. Which means that Jaskier isn’t nearby.

Geralt gets up, gathering his swords, and he walks around the clearing. Finally, he smells lavender and sandalwood, to the south - heading back towards the town they left earlier that day. 

He frowns again, quickly following the trail. 

Why the hell would Jaskier go back to the town they were in just now? Why would he do that in the middle of the night? And without warning Geralt? What could possibly be so important? Maybe he’s under a curse of sorts, something that’s forcing him to go back. But that can’t be the case - Geralt doesn’t smell the familiar ozone scent of magic anywhere, and his medallion stays completely still against his chest.

Eventually, he reaches the town, right in time to see Jaskier scaling down a wall. Ah, so it’s just another one of his conquests. But... usually he doesn’t hesitate to just tell Geralt about the fact that he’s meeting someone, he’s never been so secretive about it. Not only that, but the window he climbed out of is completely dark and devoid of any sign of life - as is the rest of the house. 

And, most importantly, this is the Alderman’s house. Geralt remembers it clearly because he’d been there earlier that day with a Drowner head to prove that he’d done his job. Even then, the Alderman had only paid him a quarter of what he’d promised Geralt, and had insulted Witchers straight to his face.

He remembers the outraged look Jaskier’d had, he remembers the bard asking him why he wouldn’t do anything about it - you’re ten times stronger than him, for goodness’ sake! 

And then he remembers the suspicious deaths that seem to follow them wherever they go.

He narrows his eyes, the realization battling in his head with the image of sweet, kind Jaskier, with his sparkling, blue eyes and his easy smile.

But Geralt had seen that smile turn into a sneer, those blue eyes turn icy, whenever someone had insulted either of them, whenever Jaskier saw someone who couldn’t defend themselves get hurt, whenever they stumbled upon an injustice and Geralt had told him that he couldn’t do anything about it because he’s a Witcher, and Witchers aren’t supposed to take sides.

When Jaskier reaches the edge of the woods, Geralt steps out of the shadows. The bard doesn’t even visibly startle when the Witcher suddenly appears in front of him, though his heartbeat speeds up for a moment or two, before calming down again.

“Ah, Geralt! I was just taking a lovely evening stroll.” He taps the side of his head, smiling at Geralt conspiratorially. “Insomnia, you see.” His heart picks up again, and if Geralt hadn’t already known Jaskier was lying, he surely would’ve, now. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

It’s then that he notices a bitter twang under the familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood, and he inhales deeply. Poison.

Jaskier starts to fidget a bit under his unrelenting gaze, and smiles nervously. “Everything alright, Geralt?”

He scoffs, but nods. “Yes, I’m fine. But the Alderman isn’t, is he, Jaskier?”

Jaskier’s heartbeat picks up again, and Geralt can smell the unmistakable scent of guilt and anxiety emanating off the bard. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Geralt.”

Geralt crosses the distance between them, grabbing Jaskier by the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. “I’m sure you do, bard.”

Jaskier laughs nervously, hands in the air in surrender. “Geralt, I really don’t-” He pales when Geralt’s hand disappears into the bard’s pocket, reappearing with a small, empty vial. He uncorks it with his thumb, holding it to his nose. He inhales deeply, his suspicions confirmed, and throws it over his shoulder.

“I know poison when I smell it, Jaskier. The Alderman is dead, isn’t he?”

Jaskier’s fearful face falls, his expression hardening into something that sends a shiver down Geralt’s spine - a pleasant one, though, surprisingly. “Look me in the eye and tell me he didn’t deserve it, Geralt.”

“You can’t just kill someone for simply not paying us.”

Jaskier scoffs, rolls his eyes, his hands lowering from where they’d been hovering next to his face. “Oh, please, of course I can. And I have. And I would do it again.”

Geralt studies his face for a few seconds longer, and Jaskier stares right back at him. “How many?”

Jaskier raises his eyes to the sky, lips moving slightly as his fingers twitch, counting under his breath. He frowns, looks back at Geralt. “Just the ones that didn’t pay us, or the others too?”

Geralt blinks. “The... the others, too.”

Jaskier narrows his eyes, continues counting for a few seconds. “Do accidents count too?”

Geralt huffs in disbelief, looking to the side. “Sweet Melitele, Jaskier.” It doesn’t shock him as much as it should’ve - he feels like this is something he’s known deep down for a long time - but it doesn’t horrify him either, this knowledge that Jaskier has just been killing people left and right. If anything, it makes something hot and heavy settle in his gut. 

“I don’t know how many, exactly, but I think... about forty to fifty people.”

“Good gods,” Geralt mutters, his breath catching in his throat. 

He can almost imagine it, Jaskier with a poison vial in his hand, standing over an unsuspecting victim; with that cold look in his eyes as he pushes someone through a window; with blood spilling over his hands as he cuts a man’s throat. 

“Can... can you fight? With weapons?”

Jaskier frowns, seemingly confused, but indulges him. “Yes, actually. Sword, dagger, crossbow, you name it. Perks of growing up royal, I guess.”

His heart’s hammering in his throat, mouth suddenly dry. “Tell...” He swallows thickly. “Tell me not to kiss you. Tell me not to take you back to our camp and show you exactly what you do to me. Tell me, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his pupils growing ever larger, swallowing up the blue of his eyes nearly completely. “I can’t. I won’t. If you want to claim me, then claim me, Witcher.”

He pulls Jaskier closer, crashing their lips together in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, yet somehow absolutely perfect. He bends down a bit to grab at the back of Jaskier’s thighs. The bard gets the message and jumps up, wrapping his long legs around Geralt’s waist.

Geralt turns around and breaks the kiss, sucking red marks into the side of Jaskier’s neck as he starts walking back to camp, basking in the soft whimpering sounds Jaskier lets out.

Behind him, in the Alderman’s house, a woman screams.

[vaguekiwi]

Under a Violet Rain: Chapter 4

Silk Curtains

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Brief non-con (about a thousand words in, it's a dream, all in italics, and separated by break lines if you want to skip/skim.) Some symptoms of anxiety/long-term stress.

Full Text Below:

It took three full days for Peter to be satisfied with the contract Tony’s scribes produced. Being in his uncle’s office with Tony and a handful of aides from Ferrum left Peter feeling drained and uneasy. It didn’t help that Peter felt so alone; for every inch he eked out for himself, Tony was able to negotiate a mile. And Peter wasn’t stupid, at the end of the day all of this was given to him by his -

By his fiancé.

God.

If Tony really wanted to, he could flaunt some steel and put an end to any of Peter’s whims. But it seemed to satisfy the man to let Peter retain just a bit of control. So while Peter struggled to show he was smart enough to keep up with legal jargon, Tony sat on the other end of the desk and pulled the strings and dictated what was finally written down, all the while his own men whispering in his ear. No one was on Peter’s side, that was a reality etching itself into his chest and exhausting his stamina.

The long days meant Peter didn’t get back to his nook in the library until late the night the contract had been finalised. He was surprised to mount the steps and find Bruce there, mulling over two books and glancing repeatedly out the window.

“Still studying the rain?”

Bruce jumped but smiled warmly when he recognised Peter. “I probably seem like an idiot now,” Bruce laughed, “but I don’t suppose the Prince of Arachne has any light to shed on the subject.”

Peter shook his head and sat down, pulling his own stack of books and quills from underneath the bench. “My uncle used to say there’s no shedding light on the whims of dark clouds,” he said. Bruce smiled at that, seeming to repeat the phrase in his head, mulling it over.

“That’s not a bad answer,” he conceded.

“It was never quite good enough for me,” Peter answered and Bruce nodded at that too, a silent claim to understanding, a mental kinship between them.

“Did Tony come around to your terms?”

“The ones that mattered,” Peter admitted, wondering how much he should say about Tony around this man. But Bruce didn’t press the subject of the man in the castle.

Instead he asked, “how are you - umm - holding up, with everything that’s happened?”

Peter’s tongue lodged in his throat and he hesitated, shocked that anyone form Ferrum would bother to ask this question. He must have looked offended because Bruce hastily added, “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just - our invasion was so fast. So I was thinking, in just a couple months you’ve lost your family, your country, probably some friends.”

“Right,” Peter nodded and swallowed. He thought of his pillow, always damp in the morning where his cheek had been. And the negotiations of the past couple days, how flushed and ill he felt through it all. But what was he supposed to do? Tell this - this foreigner - this friend of Tony’s - I’m crying myself to sleep at night and constantly think I’m going to throw up but mostly I’m fine.

No, that wasn’t an option.

“It’s been as hard as you would expect,” Peter answered evasively. Lit by a dozen candles and the moon outside, the light shifted in the library and Peter turned his eyes out the window. It was drizzling, but he couldn’t tell what colour it was. Thinking about his uncle and his lost kingdom, the power he had never appreciated when he’d had it, Peter felt grief climbing in his throat. For a moment he cursed Bruce’s presence, because otherwise he would have felt comfortable weeping alone in the library. But then, Bruce had as much right as anyone else to be there. Bruce was the first person to ask of Peter’s welfare, something had to be said for that.

“Peter?”

Bruce sounded genuinely concerned, and that made everything worse somehow.

“I’m sorry,” Peter stood up sharply, throwing his books away in haste, “I’m just very tired, I’m going to bed.”

He didn’t say goodnight as he hurried back down the steps. Bruce didn’t call after him. He sprinted between the library and the castle and to his rooms, slamming the door shut and collapsing onto his bed.

Only then did he see the citrine splotches on his sleeves, it was a yellow rain. That always felt strange to Peter, it made the world feel tired and pallid. But Michelle had loved yellow rains - yellow and black. She always thought black was nice because if there were unsavoury or mixed stains on their clothes, they could use black to blot it out.

Peter could imagine the black of her armour and the damp spots, the violet rain had not shown up but the red of blood was thicker than sweat or water. Blood stained different from rain. There had been blood on her stomach and trickling down her temple. A wound to the gut must have been incredibly painful, but still she used her final moments to get to Peter.

Had his uncle been in pain?

Peter didn’t know; he hadn’t been there. Uncle Benjamin had left to negotiate peace, armed with an offer to let Tony keep the half of the country he had already sieged. The king had just wanted Arachne, the remainder of it at that point, to be left in peace. It was Peter’s understanding that his uncle had died that day; seeking an end to what he deemed senseless violence.

Peter sniffled and put a hand over his mouth to smother his sob, not wanting to cry too loudly. He couldn’t let this become a habit. It would not do to let himself cry at night because soon even the bedroom would not be his alone.

—

Peter cried out and arched his back to seek a relief that didn’t come. Tony’s mouth stifled his shriek of pain as the man pushed in merciless, hard, too fast.

“Plea -!” Peter whined and panted for breath, “s-slow down,” Tony’s grip on his hips just became tighter, pressing splotchy bruises into his thighs.

“Don’t deny me what’s mine,” Tony whispered against his neck and bit down until Peter sobbed, “you belong to me, right? In sickness and health. To love, cherish, and obey?”

Peter ached and shuddered but didn’t argue. He swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

“Yes,” he whimpered.

“Good. Now shut up and let me finish.”

—

Peter woke up feeling cold and sick, dawn slanting through silk curtains he hadn’t bothered to draw. The nausea wasn’t new; the nightmare was. Peter swung his legs over the bed, chest heaving for air. He winced as clenched muscles loosened and his body untangled itself from the bed.

He changed as quickly as he could because of the cold. Peter hesitated with the closet door open, his eyes darted to the window and a cloudless sky. Then he picked out a woollen grey cardigan and drew it tight around his shoulders. Ned and Michelle had bought it for him a few years ago. Putting it on now felt cosy and soft, and it had a smell that he couldn’t place - the smell that his home was meant to have, maybe.

Peter went sluggishly to breakfast. Tony was halfway done when he arrived, and didn’t say anything when Peter entered. Peter took his seat, thinking about the Tony in his dream. It felt like there was a new current of energy between them, something unfamiliar and frightening. What was that, fear? Did Tony feel it too?

“Peter?”

Peter tore his eyes from his plate to look at Tony, whose eyebrows were raised. Peter didn’t like that look, the curiosity without any of the anger or ferocity. It felt too playful for such a monster.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “what did you say?”

Tony’s cheeks fluttered, half a smile.

“I asked how you slept … I take it not well?”

“Looking forward to keeping me up all night?” Peter snapped and Tony’s eyebrows flew down, drawing together tightly.

“I’m sorry?”

Peter’s head throbbed, a sharp pulse right behind his eyes that made them water.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t - I just meant -” Peter’s voice faltered in his throat.

“Are you feeling ill?” Tony asked, ostensibly offering a way out, an explanation for such an inappropriate outburst. But Peter just shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry I just - uhmm …” Peter felt heat flushing his cheeks even though he had nothing to apologise for between the two of them, “could I go into the city today?” He blurted out.

The request must have caught Tony off guard, because he ducked his chin a little bit to focus on his plate.

“Into the city,” he repeated, he drank a big gulp of coffee, “for what?”

So I can breathe! Peter wanted to gasp but he just said, “I think it would be good for me to … exercise a bit more.”

Tony didn’t seem satisfied with that, he sat back and folded his hands in consideration. Peter supposed he couldn’t blame him, it was a flimsy justification and there were plenty of potential risks, with Tony not knowing what was going on in Peter’s head these days.

Peter was resigning himself to a day of feverish writing in the library - anything to get his energy out - when Tony clapped and stood: “okay, you can go.” Tony held his hand out and Peter took it, letting Tony pull him to his feet. He tried to ignore the way touching Tony’s hand made his palm flare and prickle in pain. Tony steadied him and looked straight into his eyes, almost like a challenge to see if Peter would look away.

“You want to get out for a while, away from me? Fine, I understand.”

Peter’s protests faltered on his lips when Tony went on, “but you’ll bring one of my men with you as an escort.”

Peter nodded hurriedly, an elation setting into the back of his head at the freedom of the day ahead. Surely once he was out of Tony’s presence, once his stomach wasn’t coiled at every turned corner, surely he would feel better then.

Peter was about to suggest maybe Bruce could come with him but Tony was already waving to someone at the door.

“Beck, can you accompany Peter?”

Peter’s eyes flickered to the blue-eyed soldier; he was with Tony often. Had been at the library a few days ago and often in the office. He was someone Tony trusted. Beck inclined his head in agreement, and turned his torso slightly to face Peter.

“Have fun, Prince Peter.” Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly, “don’t do something you’ll regret.”

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | The Pocketwatch

remember that this is a first draft with only minor edits, but enjoy! comments and reception is always appreciated. 

-

“How does it work?” Ayu’s legs almost jumped in curiosity. Such magic was exactly like what he had seen from a comic, only, without a simple trinket. 

“You open and close it– but that’s not what’s important at the moment!” Eilwen swatted her free hand around Ayu’s face. Ayu complied as she said, “What would you like to know first?”

“Oh,” he reminded himself, “yeah… I really need this one, so can you tell me about the monsters?”

“What monsters?”

“You gotta know them.” Ayu’s arms fumbled to recreate their image. “They’re big, scary, kinda ghost looking but like to stab?”

“The Iblis monsters?” An eye twitched from Eilwen’s confused look.

“That’s what they’re called?”

“Oh, my Lord-.” Eilwen placed a hand on her forehead. “You actually don’t know anything.”

“Can’t you tell me already?” Ayu’s expression lowered from her tired attitude. 

Eilwen’s brows furrowed. “I’m afraid not. Alice told me not to give information on them but I didn’t actually think you needed it!”

“I get it. I’m dumb, but damn…” Ayu picked on some dry skin; no solution to the question making him itch. “Then, why is this all happening anyways? For everybody and me, I mean.”

“Oh well that’s simple enough.” For the first time, she opened her pocket watch. And with the snap of it closing shut yet again, the flame in the middle of the room began to fade. The room melted along with the light as new ones grew into new scenery. In front of them was a boy, brightness all around him in his short stature. His light figure glowed from his white hair and skin, while his tunics and layers of silk matted him to a royal status with his circlet made of gold and shiny coal. “You already know Akeldama.”

The rare sight stunted Ayu, and in a baffled surprise, he asked, “Am I able to… touch him?”

“Why so?”

“I’ve never been able to, and its making me wonder,” he answered truthfully. 

A click of the tongue was heard. “For him, no.” Eilwen walked towards the image smiling in pride. “They’re similar to an illusion; something clear to our minds but not our bodies.” She waved over the boy. Her hand passed through his body with ease. 

Ayu processed her words. “… So, if I put my mind to it, can I punch him or something?”

“No.” The boy mumbled a swear. “But let’s move on with your question: Akeldama is some sort of being with immense amount of power and dark magic. Presumably, a devil of sorts, which would explain his terrible mannerisms in ruling.”

The scene cleared from blurry vision Ayu had not realized before. Flames formed behind Akeldama in vigorous fashion. Small houses built under the burning light and drifted away in ashes. 

“He’s killed thousands, as legends say.” Her voice was void of pity. She stared at the view with Ayu, her face dull without a sign from tragedy. “But, he also saved dozens. Horribly, if I may add.” 

Eilwen clicked her watch yet again. The scene formed into the forest Ayu stood only minutes ago. As the land filled in focus, the woman walked on. Ayu followed. 

Stepping upon soundless grass, a blur of color came from the distance. Viewing closer, the blur changed to people in all shapes and sizes. Their clothes shined in all sorts of colors as they all gathered in a circle. Eilwen entered into the clump, Ayu followed. His body shifted between people as he bumped into many. 

“Didn’t you say these were like illusions?”

“Depends on the event,” she answered. “They still can’t feel us, but one thing I know from all of time is that Akeldama is untouchable.”

Ayu’s small brows furrowed as he shuffled against the crowd of strangers. 

“He created our society from, what we could tell as, boredom. But his way in recruitment for many didn’t consist of greed or malice, but instead desperation and escape.” The chatter charged in anxiety and silence. Whispers reached out beyond all and overlapped between others’ words. “He came along offering immortality, power, and above all else, a way out of our lives. However, the offering and contracts quickly became a threat.”

“Fuck…” Ayu stopped pushing himself away from others. He paused his movement in reminiscence of Akeldama’s offerings. 

“From what Alice believes,” Eilwen added. “Akeldama does have intentions for his actions.” She made a look at Ayu. 

Ayu began tugging his hair again. 

“Only we may never find out. Even with my magic, I can only go so far as to the 1600s, and at that, some parts are blocked.”

Once they exited the circle, Ayu asked, “Hasn’t anybody tried to take over? Or kill him?”

Eilwen scoffed, “As if that would occur.” She pointed at the crowd. “All of our abilities come from Akeldama’s own magic, and he always isolates himself in his throne room in which only Alice is able to enter. And if anyone were to attempt, they’d be aware he can kill in a millisecond. A suicide attempt, if you will.” 

“So, pretty much a no.”

“Anyone would kill him if they had the chance,” she stated.

“Or put him in a choke-hole…”

She scoffed, “We wish.”

A second of thought necessitated him. “I’m gonna have to wait more for most of these, aren’t I,” asked Ayu. 

“Practically so, yes.”

His face flattened. “I’m going nowhere with this, then?”

“Regardless of knowledge,” she faced him directly in the eyes, “you’re not going to be able to stop him with your nature.”

Ayu groaned, pulling his bangs harder. “Why the fuck do I even try?”

“I’d mind you about the language but there’s no point with what we do,” she commented.

Ayu hummed with an agitated pitch. Though he realized other options are always possible. “… Then, what about Oliver? Can’t I get background on him?”

Eilwen stared into space for quite some time. Her thoughts seemed to be fixated from all Ayu could ponder. “You can gain some. But only some.” She set her watch again. “Though his family line is crucial in the development of this society.”

The forest melted in color. The circle of civilians devolving into lifeless blobs of nothing. The grey skies turned to the dark bricks of a ceiling. And walls closed in behind them. Dirt and musk engraved itself on the floors along with small blood splatters and spilled water. The only light to appear in the desolate waste of a room was a small window unreachable by height, and the small hole that poked out of the wooden door. 

In the corner was a girl, a few years senior of Ayu. Her body contorted to a ball shaking in every limb. Her light hair was ragged and greasy, dangling across her head and legs in clumps. The hair covered up the view of searing scars, as well as the chains stuck upon her wrists.

“1610: … Cecily Rixon, or as you likely know her as, Alice. She was accused of witchcraft after remedying her mother through illness, and taken to the chambers to be punished until she admitted her crimes, guaranteeing her execution.”

Ayu stared at the chilling image in front of him, though, his own chills never stopped him from moving at that moment. “So, she was hurt to death?” His feet led him on towards the girl. He stood above her and watched her cower from nothing but her own pain. 

“I-indeed.” 

He lowered his knees, then adjusted himself to where he sat across from her. He pondered as she cried up dry tears. “This was… normal, right?” 

“I wish to say it wasn’t,” Eilwen answered. “… She was about to admit to her ‘crimes’ back then, however, -”

The door opened slowly, but not to the attention of Ayu. The girl whisked her head up at the small creak of sound. Her covered up face now revealed itself to the scene. Dry skin filled up her cheeks with a cut on the side. A swell from another cheek punctured and bruised her lip. All and even a burning brand mark seeped by the end of her neck. Ayu studied it all before turning back to see who was at the door. Though, it was easily recognizable by that point. 

“He’d arrived at her darkest day.”

Her throat trembled at her own words as she spat, “I work with the devil, sir… You may take me by the grave but that won’t- that won’t stop him.” The words jumbled in its own confusion.

“You may lie as you like,” Akeldama said calmly, “but, that may never work for someone like me, as disappointing as that is.” He entered the cell. His bored expression looked down upon her as her face twisted to confusion. 

“You’re not the guard.”

“I know I’m not,” he replied. “I arrived for something else.” 

“What’s your reasoning?”

“To give you a-” He rolled his eyes. “Bargain.”

The girl never replied to him. 

He sighed, “You don’t believe this sort of life is worthwhile? Don’t you?”

No answer. 

“Your family pushed you to labor then to this state only because of some men in armor scaring them. They formed you into this state without hearing any of your pleas or thinking anything of a truth from you. You’re in this state because you could never fight back, not even speak back to them. They’re all of unfair power against you.” 

She turned away from him.

“You can do something about that; you’re able to stand for yourself and prosper.” He told her. “You can get out of this life where you’re controlled by their lies… and I’ll help.”

“What a lie,” Eilwen twitched. 

Ayu’s focus completely shifted to Akeldama. His mind numbed from his contradiction. Though, most of all, he thought, why haven’t you told that to me…?

The girl turned back around, shaky and slow. “H-how?”

He offered his hand. “Come with me and you can live a new life. I’ll give you power; I’ll give you freedom. You’ll live however you’d like, as long as you follow what I say.”

Her eyes shimmered in a flash. “What is it you’ll say?”

He looked away. “Small things. Nothing major in the grand scheme of the world. I need time to have everything set, to be frank, so you’ll need patience.” A small smile creeped from his lips with the sense of genuineness. “But take my hand, and one day you’ll live whatever you imagine.”

“I always hated seeing this,” Eilwen sighed. “Yet, nonetheless she accepted his deal, and left her life of before.”

The girl reached out, her hand almost as bony as Ayu’s. She grasped Akeldama’s, and they both disappeared. 

“She was the first to be a part of Akeldama’s reign, and the first to discover the true cost of joining him before the rest of us.” She reset the watch. “Akeldama began recruiting multiple others after her.”

Trees grew around the two and surrounded them by their branches and roots. The sky was blocked by fresh green leaves though way up above creeped a sip of grey. Ayu would have kept his face up, viewing the height of the trees, but a man passed by in a rush.

Ayu stumbled over in surprise, and once he gained balance again, he found the man at his sight. The tall man paced all over the trees, humming a tune off-pitch and off-beat. He adjusted his poignant ginger hair back over and over without an avail to fix his loose hairs. His other hand carried a bouquet of pond flowers and four-leaf clovers drenched all around, including his own suit from fallen down petals. 

After groaning, the man took off with dangling hair on his side. Eilwen walked with him. “Thirty years later in the 1640s, when we were depressingly thriving, a man named Christopher Broichet had joined, originally known as Felicette.” 

Ayu tiptoed around fake branches and rocks. “Are we gonna follow him for all this time?”

“Yes? Is it challenging?” 

“No,” he gave her. “Catching up isn’t gonna be hard at all-” He tripped as soon as he swore. 

Eilwen shook her head and proceeded. It forced Ayu to bring his weight back together and rush back. “It isn’t that long of a walk.”

“It’s not the walk,” Ayu huffed, “It’s the forest! Everything’s small and it’s kinda dark.” 

Eilwen told him, “You’ll get used to it in time.”

He ignored the comment. Grumbling while stepping over a log.

“He had caught the attention of Alice, surprisingly considering her stoic-ness at the time, but they’d quickly become the society’s lovers.”

The bark walls opened to another open field, though with a cottage by the side and a leafless tree far in the midst. Alice had sat there waiting, dressed in a fine gown and her hair tied within a bun. 

Felicette dashed towards her, clamping his heels on the ground to make a full stop once he met her. 

“I have a good reason for being late!” He handed her the bouquet. 

Alice picked up a clover from the pile almost falling over. “You must like these, don’t you?”

Sitting down with her, he smiled. “I think they heavily compliment you.”

“They do, especially with the five others you’ve gotten me.” 

Felicette eyed her. “Shouldn’t those have died already?”

“Of course not,” she exclaimed. “This is Fowls, everything lasts forever here. ‘less you’re human.”

He chuckled at her. “I’d say that’s very unlikely.” His innocent composure gently kissed Alice by the cheek.

Ayu squinted at the two, specifically Felicette. “… He’s Oliver’s dad?”

“Yes, from what she tells us.”

He tilted and shook his head, right as Felicette lifted Alice up into the tree and making her giggle in delight. No, I don’t see it. 

“They brought a nice light to the people.” Soft laughter evoked as the two sat together on the tree. “Christopher had lots of charisma to inspire the land.”

With doubt, Ayu nodded. “Do you see that with Oliver,” he asked.

A thump was heard from the distance. The two turned to see Felicette fallen from the tree. “… That’s difficult to say, especially with the intelligence difference.” Nothing necessarily interesting occurred then, so Eilwen continued her lesson. “Throughout the years, it came to notice that he, along with many others in his movement, stopped following Akeldama’s order of murder.”

“Years?”

“Akeldama was lenient on it for a few decades.” A click from her pocket was heard. “However, eventually…”

Flames appeared again. Rising smoke brought Ayu to a cough as he stumbled in the old environment. “Why does this one feel more real? -”

Eilwen swatted ashes away. “I remember it more,” she answered, “That’s all.” 

Ayu’s eyes squinted from the burning sensation only to meet a body in front of him: stabbed in multiple parts of their limbs and torso, dripping of blood and a black substance. He choked at the sight and blinked nonstop in surprise. In wide eyes, he shook up to view the dead face of Oliver’s father. 

“1701, November 1st, Christopher was executed in the eyes of all of us. Akeldama said to have done it as a warning for those who rebelled, and have people working properly again. Though, the opposite happened.” 

Ayu stared at the body which soon corroded into nothingness. … Oliver wasn’t born in the 1700s. 

“The society began to die out afterwards in lost hope. Assisted suicides began occurring and succeeding to the point that only few of us were left.”

The scene fast forwarded in front of them. The flames and houses faded into grey ashes. A sense of the world went numb again for Ayu. “Akeldama seemed prepared for this event however, because hours later, he brought something new.” 

Two figures walked in the distance. Ruins crowded over them, courting to their soft, patted steps. One of the figures revealed themselves more clearly than the other. His small stature shadowed the other with only the tiniest difference of height. Long black hair dusted around his face as he seemed to be shaking in ashes. Yet, the taller guided him with a held hand; no clear reaction in sight. 

“He saved a single child from that village he burned.” The child stumbled upon his feet next to Akeldama. “He’s never revealed his true name to us, but he’s referred to as Vittorino.”

The name rung in Ayu’s mind, though the vague memory of ‘Vittorino’ being said was something he could not find. However, at a halt of the scene, Akeldama bent down ever so slightly to Vittorino’s height, facing him eye to eye. Words were spoken to the young one, but unheard in the midst of Ayu. 

“There’s been rumors for ages,” Eilwen said, “that Akeldama picked him up because he was to be a religious sacrifice to the village. But, Vittorino never answered anything we asked.” 

The boy nodded to Akeldama before he was blurred away. Ayu blinked as he had not noticed Eilwen’s click. 

Alice appeared again, along with the young boy, in the darkest depths of the words. Laying against the tree, Vittorino hid from her. While she, peering up above him, attempted conversation. 

“To cope with her loss, Alice tried to get along with Vittorino and help him as the youngest in our society. Though, he never cooperated with her in the end, and grew more akin to Akeldama as years went by.” 

In distraction, Ayu peered his eyes to the setting around them. The abyss and blind color of the forest guided him nowhere, but the faint sense of the nightly color comforted him. A sense of ease cradled him in the unknown dark, while he wondered if that is why Vittorino hid in the land. 

“After the arrival of Vittorino, Akeldama seemed to have found another practical way of gaining followers.” Another child appeared from the dark in wandering, catching the attention of Alice. She eyed in shock with the blood found in vague sight on the kid. “Then started the second era, where he began handpicking and ‘rescuing’ children. Raising them to be sick and sinister.”

And just like that, the world disintegrated into the nothingness of the original room. “For the most part, Alice was left alone.” Ayu noticed Eilwen’s direction at him. “Then all of a sudden, she claimed she was going to have a child of hers and Christopher.”

“But-” 

“We imagined she’s gone mad, but once she explained herself, it seemed that the wish child was a blessing and a curse.”

Ayu gnawed his cheek in confusion. “But… how was he made then?”

“That is another thing I’m unable to say, sadly.” Sighing crept over her breath as she wrestled in her pockets. “And I believe that’s all you needed to know, correct?”

Ayu copied her pocketing movements. “Can’t tell if this was even useful or not. All I really know now is that Akeldama still sucks and Oliver seriously has a weird family.” 

“Well, that’s an excellent summary.” Eilwen walked across from him and onto the door, placing her hand on the handle. “Now then, Cecily should have had plenty of time to talk with Oliver. We should get going.” 

Before she could open the door, Ayu stopped her. “W-wait.”

“What is it?”

“How did you get here then? ‘Cause you told me about Alice and all her stuff.”

Eyes widened, she shuffled. “That’s rather unnecessary information.”

“But you were a part of this too.”

“I got here by the dumbest of means,” she spat. 

A light clicked in Ayu’s mind. “You were dumb too?”

“In all fairness, yes.” She squeezed onto the handle. “I was… in love with my dearest friend, and we were both poor peasants. Yet I was put in an arranged marriage for my family to have some riches, and I had to leave her behind.”

“But why did you come here?”

“Simple. I thought it was unfair for her to stay poor and Akeldama noticed. My contract was by the terms that she would take my place in life and have all the fortunes of food and luxuries.”

Ayu blinked. “That’s… really nice.”

She scowled. “It was my luck in living. If it weren’t for my contract, people would’ve claimed me as a witch for charming the noble and executed me.” Hustling against her jacket, her weak voice stated, “She took my place in the end.”

The implications in irony was far too much for Ayu to form words. 

A pause latched between the two of them, but before one could say a word, Eilwen opened the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

***

“Oh, Eilwen! You came at perfect timing!” Alice beamed with a worried smile. “I think just about wrapped up everything with Oliver.” They both were sitting down next to the cottage Ayu viewed in the past. Though before he could mention it, Eilwen walked by him and gave a few words to the other. 

“Please tell me everything went sufficiently.”

“I did all that you advised but you know I can’t speak like that!” Alice hissed in a pout.

A shake of the head and a groan later, “Everything I told you was simple and for you not to go too far.”

The women babbled to each other onwards of their time, to Ayu’s attentional dismay. In disinterest, he sat by Oliver, comfortable against the plain grass, and spoke to him. “I think I just had one of the weirdest history classes.”

With a hand on top of his mouth, Oliver replied, “Better than awkward talking and anxiety from an adult.”

“About what?”

“About me, but she was too nervous about saying anything.”

Glimpsing over to Alice excusing herself to Eilwen, and alongside memory of her past, he said, “Makes sense…” 

However, Oliver’s ears seemed to attend back to Alice and Eilwen in keen study. Ayu imitated. 

“What? You know he doesn’t like people knowing about him!” Alice exclaimed. 

But then came a sigh from Oliver. 

“What,” Ayu asked.

“Alice told me I had to ‘grow accustom’ to eating first before anything else.” 

Cringing shivered in Ayu’s reminder. And yet, the circumstances were dire regardless. “You’d have to at some point.”

“I know but,” he played with the end of his cardigan, “out of anyone here, you’d understand how tough it is.” 

Ayu shifted his gaze away. “I don’t think so.” He nodded at the women. “They seem pretty normal in thinking to me.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but they could be tricking us, Ayu. They- they kill, so they can probably lie too.” 

Eilwen’s lesson flashed through his mind. I doubt it but… “I guess that’s true.” 

Silence evoked them again until Oliver asked suddenly, “What do you think I am, Ayu?” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” he shuffled in his seat, “I guess I’ve just been seen as a lot of things recently. Like a random kid; a monster; the son of immortal assassin parents, one being dead; a kind of intentional mistake; and a canine… it’s all messy. But what do you think?”

Ayu tapped on his feet in thought. Though the answer was quite simple. “I don’t know, Ollie. You’re just another person with a fucked-up life like me, maybe worse, right?”

Oliver shrugged and nodded.

“But I do wanna try and help a little. It’s the least I can do for anything right now.”

The boy, with his pale green eyes, stared at him for that bit of time, wide and light against the dimly grey background. And with his kindly eyes, he smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

-

Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother | A Demon | A Child | The Wolf | Bloody Fingers | A Monochrome World | Next >>>

[the-demelza-robins]

Tea, Greengrass?

a/n: Two Slytherins walk into St. Mungo’s... 

request: none - the words “tea, Greengrass?” popped into my head one night. 

words: 1.5k 

warnings: a blood curse

shameless self promotion: I have a multichap Drastoria fic that’s almost done. Read it here!

Read this story on FF.net

“Tea, Greengrass?”

The woman jumped; she’d been so preoccupied staring at the St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries reception floor  that she hadn’t noticed the shiny black shoes that were now occupying part of it. Cautiously looking up (she knew that voice from somewhere, she just couldn’t place it…), her eyes immediately narrowed when she saw the tall figure of Draco Malfoy looming over her. His angular face looked almost handsome in the sterile light of the waiting room, but of course she wasn’t going to tell him that.

He blinked at her, and she figured she’d been looking at him for a little too long.

Shaking her head as a response (her throat felt too constricted to talk), she tried to focus on anything or anyone else.

Instead of leaving, as any reasonable person would’ve done, the man set one paper cup of tea down on the end table besides Astoria’s couch and sat down. “Never thought I’d see you here,” he said conversationally.

She shrugged, watching out of the corner of her eye as he surveyed the waiting room, his face a mix between interest and disdain. “Most of these people are just fools, don’t you agree? Who doesn’t know how to mend a bloody nose?”

Astoria didn’t know how to mend a bloody nose, but what she did know was that the Malfoys - especially Draco - were known for their judgmental ways, and that it was best not to reveal any weakness while in close proximity to them. She stayed silent. His gaze shifted to her, no doubt looking for any signs of illness or injury. She knew he would find none. Only her close friends had noticed how her shoulders sagged a little more, or how her voice (when she could use it at all) was quieter and more raspy.

“You were much more vocal at Hogwarts, you know.”

She snorted. He seemed pleased to get a reaction out of her. Leaning back (his shoulder was close enough to hers that she could feel it), he took a sip of tea.

“You sure you don’t want some?”

Astoria nodded and pushed some jet-black hair out of her eyes. Her mother claimed she was going grey at the ripe old age of twenty-two. “I’d always known my little Asty was wise beyond her years,” Melodia Greengrass would say, tapping her daughter on the shoulder affectionately.  She was still ignorant - in denial that the blood curse still existed. Ignorant of the fact that her “little Asty” showed all of its symptoms.

God, how Astoria hated that nickname.

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at the large card with the words I’m rooting for you! emblazoned on the front. “Who’s the card for?”

There was no nonverbal way to answer this, but Astoria, feeling her throat contract painfully, knew that she was in no position to speak. In an effort to buy herself time, she picked up the tea and sipped some of it. It was scalding hot, as she had anticipated, but it did unblock her throat a little. Coughing a few times (and feeling like a complete fool), Astoria cleared her throat. “My mother.”

She was not ready.

“Your mother? What happened to her?”

Astoria glared at Malfoy. It was bad enough that she had to sit through this alone, but with someone else there - especially if that someone else was no other than Draco Malfoy - she’d never make it to the test results center.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to be polite,” the man said.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Malfoys? Polite? Never.

He must’ve seen the disbelief etched into her face, for he leaned forward, mirroring Astoria’s position when he’d first walked in. “We are polite sometimes, you know,” he muttered, staring at the floor. When she made no response, he switched his focus back to her. “What, have you gone mute or something?” he demanded.

“No,” she croaked, wincing at the pain that that small little word caused.

He stared at her for a few more seconds. “It’s usually polite to reply when people talk to you.”

“Ms. Greengrass?”

A new voice cut over the din of the waiting room, and Astoria stood up quickly. Her head felt light and unattached to the rest of her body (something which she was sure was not a good thing) as she walked over to the nurse that was waiting for her by the hallway that led to the examination rooms. She scrutinized the young woman’s face - were there any hints regarding the outcome of the test in her expression?

“Let’s go,” the nurse said, her smile bright. Was it a pity smile, or a genuine one? What did it mean?

Astoria knew she’d soon find out.

The examination room they put her in was bare. St. Mungo’s, Astoria knew, didn’t have much expense to spend on such frivolities such as the decor in such rooms, but the woman couldn’t help but wonder if a brighter coat of paint would decrease waiting-room anxiety. She was familiar with this kind of anxiety because she’d experienced it every time she’d gone to the Wizarding hospital - that period of time when she had nothing to do but pace within the confines of the ten by five space and wait for a piece of life-changing information.

It was harder to pace, now, but she still managed. Her feet echoed across the linoleum floor until a knock sounded on the door.

She froze, then cleared her throat. “Come in.”

What had her mother said? “Hold your head up high, dear, and shoulders back. Don’t soil the Greengrass name by being improper.” Astoria had laughed when Melodia had first suggested this (“I’m sure what’s left of the Greengrass name is already damaged beyond repair, Mother”), but now, of course, she straightened her back and lifted her chin up. Over the course of her life, she’d come to realize that pretend ambivalence made her feel more in control.

A heavyset woman with her mouth set in a grim line entered the room, barely taking in Astoria before sitting down on the stool across from the examination table and drawing in a deep breath.

“No easy way to put it,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, kid. You’ve got the curse.”

And just like that, Astoria’s life imploded.

The woman didn’t mess around. After giving the life-changing diagnosis, she made herself busy by mixing Astoria’s hair into an almost-finished Symptom Smashing potion, which the young Slytherin would take every night before dinner, no exceptions. Feeling like a ghost, the patient left the room after a hurried goodbye. She dodged nurses and other patients in the hallway, a question bouncing through her mind. Who do I tell?

Her mother, surely. But perhaps Daphne first - after all, Melodia Greengrass could be very stubborn when she wanted to and it would take a lot to convince her that her daughter really had the curse.

Her friends, probably. She had few - she had always been a quiet girl with a sardonic exterior beneath the surface that not many people got to see.

Not Draco Malfoy, who was standing in the reception area, waiting for her. No, she should definitely not tell Draco Malfoy, should definitely not walk over to him, should definitely not wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.

She shouldn’t do those things, shouldn’t have done those things, because that’s exactly what she did - walked over to him and kissed him.

He shouldn’t have reciprocated, shouldn’t have put his arms around her waist.

Shouldn’t, couldn’t.

Did.

And when they finally broke apart, and something like a smile passed through Draco’s face, and Astoria realized that she’d just made out with the Slytherin prince in the middle of the reception room at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, it was too late.

Something had passed between them, and even as she removed her arms from his neck and he disentangled his from her waist, they still stood close.

“I have a blood curse,” she whispered into his ear. It sounded like a joke, why did it sound like a joke? It shouldn’t - it was her life, her future, her hopes and dreams all extinguished quickly. But on her tongue and in her (somewhat tired) head, it sounded like the funniest thing ever. A blood curse.

This was not part of the plan. Her mother would freak out. A sickly daughter had no prospects, no potential suitors (not like she’d had many before). And speaking of suitors, she realized she’d just kissed the most wanted bachelor in the Pureblood community. It was a mistake.

To put it more bluntly - she was hopeless. A disappointment. Her mother would love her in her own twisted way, but her father? Forget it.

They’d take her inheritance away, of course. She wouldn’t survive to see her parents die. No prospects, no money - it was hilarious. A wrench in the machine which was set on rebuilding the Greengrass name.

Draco’s gray eyes flicked around the waiting room before landing on her again. “We should go,” he muttered. “Coffee?”

She smiled. “What about tea?”

After all, she had nothing to lose. Her life was already being thrown away.

And besides, that kiss hadn’t been that bad.

[eene-fangirl]

A Day of Ed [An EddEddy Fanfiction]

NOTE: This is a follow up to Double Dee, The Patient! Yes, I am still very obsessed with this story and always will! I hope you enjoy!

Sitting outside on their deck on a fine day in March was bliss to Edd and Eddy. Especially after a rough couple of days. It almost felt as if they were in a different world. The week started off like any regular week where they’d go off to work and then hardly seen one another. So much happened in a short amount of time.

Never having to return to that miserable auto place ever again was the best feeling to Eddy. He instantly felt a heavy weight lift off his chest. But then when it came to telling the news to Maurice the man was both relieved and sad to hear that his favorite work buddy was quitting.

Edd and Eddy sat together in chairs supplied by the owners of the apartment building. Each apartment had two, along with a small table. Two glasses of water were filled to the top. They needed to stay hydrated.

Summer was beautiful here. With the way the sun relaxed over the houses when it set. They only ate out on deck once which was when they first moved in last May. It was close to the city, big enough, and was also cheap. A plus, Eddy marveled over.

The young couples pose could have been a cute portrait. Edd had his feet raised up on a stool and a brown soft blanket covered him for warmth. The man was still weak and achy from his battle with the flu. His cheeks looked much healthier at least. Eddy could hardly look at him without his heart breaking when he was as pale as a ghost.

Edd definitely made a recovery back from the dead for sure. He still complained about his back however. The diagnosis, from Edd, was that he must have strained his back after his many trips to the bathroom.

Just then the neighbor from the apartment on the end came out. The woman was wearing a coat and her son, who must have been around four, was flying his toy plane around.

“Hi Mr. and Mr. McGee!” The little boy cheerfully greeted, waving. His mother grabbed his hand and she uncomfortably eyed the two gentlemen as they walked passed. “Are you feeling better?” he asked Edd.

“Much better, thank you. I’m still recovering.”

The woman flinched and immediately disappeared down the stairs before another word.

“What crawled up her ass?” Eddy asked taking a sip of water once she was out of earshot.

“Eddy!” Edd scolded lightly tapping his arm. He was still weak from being ill. Eddy still had to support him whenever he walked. Hopefully he’d be up for a little adventure tomorrow.

Eddy held Edd’s hand and smiled over at the man. Edd sighed. His lips curled up, smiling. Eddy’s loving smiles were so contagious. Speaking of which…

“I’m surprised you never contracted the flu, Eddy.”

Eddy giggled. “Oh, you know. Guess I got super powers!” He laughed, not able to help himself. Edd gingerly laughed at Eddy’s humor. His hands were still gently placed against his stomach. Yes, it was better, but Edd still aches all over. He didn’t have much strength to talk, either.

“The flu is very contagious. I worry about everyone in our apartment complex. Once one episode happens it’s sure to travel.”

“Are we gonna move if there’s an epidemic?” Eddy joked.

Edd looked out at the scenery watching passing cars and occasional passerbys. The downstairs neighbors dog roamed the yard tied to its leash. And then he witnessed another young couple kissing each other goodbye in the shared driveway. Each person who lived here had a story. They were all unique.

“I like it here, Eddy,” Edd said in a whisper. He felt that he may ruin the mood if he spoke too loudly.

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddy also said, quietly.

Edd turned, surprised. “Do you really?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I thought you were unhappy,” Edd admitted, clearly sounding nervous.

“‘Cause I never get to spend time here,” Eddy explained. He adjusted himself so he could look into Edd’s green eyes. Edd stared lovingly into his blue eyes. Just then a realization came to Eddy. “We’ve been married for only ten months, sockhead.”

Edd blinked, also surprised. “Has it really?”

“Yeah. It feels so much longer doesn’t it. I only proposed at the beginning of the year! Can you believe that!” Eddy was so excited that he was jostling Edd’s arm, disturbing him. “Sorry,” he apologised.

“It feels as though we've been married our whole lives,” Edd said.

“Yeah, we have been arguing like a married could since we first met,” Eddy teased. They both smiled over the content memory until their happiness instantly faded precisely at the same time.

“Then once you started working at the school we hardly saw each other.”

Edd frowned. “I know. There were days I was home by three and then I’d spend hours, sometimes even midnight for you to return home.”

Dread and guilt covered Eddy's face. He avoided looking at Edd much to the others worry. His head drooped, and he shook it around, angrily.  “Can’t believe I put up with that crap.”

“Oh, Eddy please don’t get yourself down.”

“I could have left so many freakin’ times!” Eddy raised his voice, in frustration. “But I kept holding myself back thinkin’ I couldn’t do anything,” he sighed letting his head dip again. “Why does anxiety have to do that?”

Edd struggled to push himself up only to feel some discomfort in her lower back. Eddy noticed. Instead he made it easier and moved closer to the frail man. Edd weakly smiled, thankful, and reached out to touch Eddy’s cheek.

“How have you been, Eddy?”

That question really hit home. Eddy had been avoiding his feelings, too long. The more time he spent holding himself up at work his dream of wanting to become a psychologist drifted day after day until it felt hopeless.

On the days where they were free they’d go out with Ed and May. Eddy worked overtime just to make his stupid boss happy. And to earn more money. For himself? Or them?

His boss tore him apart for a decade. The man reminded Eddy of his brother. Manipulative. The only reason Eddy stayed was for the good pay and Maurice. He made it worth going into that nightmare.

Maurice was such a kind man. Now that Eddy realized it he confided in him more then his own husband. No wonder Maurice told him to spend more time with Edd. Maurice never had it easy either. To think the man used to have a drinking problem and had to spend some time in jail. Now he was completely sober, married to his wife for fifteen years now, raising three kids and even caring to his ailing parents. How did the man have time for anything?

“Better now that I’ve quit that hellhole,” Eddy answered with all the weight inside his body finally letting loose.

Edd smiled. “Me too.”

“And you love your job, right?”

Edd’s face immediately brightened. “Yes, Eddy!” Edd responded, happily. “My students, the other faculty, and my boss have made it a wonderful start! I’m looking forward to the next few years working there.”

“I’m glad you are,” Eddy smiled holding his hand tighter. Leaning into Edd’s touch he noticed that his husband’s hand was cold. Gently, he held both of his hands in order to warm them up.

A couple days ago the weather was so fine. The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze, and it smelled like spring. It was still warm today, but also more of a chilly breeze. Edd wasn’t complaining though. They had to spend so much time inside when working.

Looking over Edd’s features he still looked exhausted. Even with going to bed very early, didn’t help. It was tough to see Edd like this. Then he yawned. His head sank into the chair more looking up at Eddy with an almost forced smile.

“You feelin’ okay?” Eddy asked.

Edd hesitated. “I guess a part of me is still tired. It does take some time to recover from the flu.”

Noticing his grip on his arm tighten Edd glanced over at Eddy who was so pale in the face that he looked as if had taken ill.

“Eddy, is something the matter? Have you become ill?” Edd asked reaching over to try and touch his cheek.

“You looked dead every single time you fell asleep,” Eddy’s voice completely broke that it also hitched in his throat. Was Eddy going to cry? He had a bad habit of holding back. “I felt like I had no idea what I was doing some of the time. I actually needed advice from my mother to help me get through this! A-And then when you started choking… I…”

Eddy covered his eyes. He took a long deep breath in through his nostrils and heaved a big sigh. Edd could just feel all the stress and worry being released from inside his body. It was a similar feeling he always felt when Eddy was sick.

“Please, forgive me, Eddy…”

“You’ve said that a thousand times already, sockhead! You couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” Edd looked ashamed once more. “I don’t understand why I even went into work on Wednesday.”

“And if Douchestien wasn’t talkin’ my ear off I would never have let you leave the house!” Eddy said, avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t blame yourself, Eddy. It’s more my fault. I should have said something.”

They were quiet for a short time. Eddy sat back into his chair and relaxed again.

“You know, I think it’s best that I take some time off before going to that school,” Eddy held Edd’s hand even tighter. “I’ve missed yah.”

This time Edd’s lips quivered. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, Eddy. I was worrying since you didn’t return home until after midnight some nights that you were… seeing someone else.”

Eddy heart completely ripped apart. “No! Don’t you ever think that! You’re the only one, Edd! You’re my sockhead. All those nights Bragstien made us work overtime I was thinkin’ and worrying about how you’re here alone. And then I also thought how happy you are. And how in hell you ended up with a guy like me. All those people, your boss and the secretary, they were so happy to actually meet me. So, clearly I’m doin’ something right.”

“You took care of me.”

“And you told me to quit.”

“You proposed.”

“And you agreed.”

Remembering that day in May of last year when the priest recited their vows reminding how they’d be together for better or for worse, until death do they part. Forever never sounded so meaningful until Eddy slipped the ring on Edd’s finger.

“I love you, Eddy.”

“Love you, too.”

They remained quiet as they continued to sit on the porch holding hands.

[settingtrends]

hiiiii friends! your pal is back with some fics she thinks you should 23948514% give a chance!!!

If you give any of these a read (and even if you don't, but you still read on ao3), please remember to leave kudos and comments on fics you read!! They're actions that take .5 seconds and they mean loads to the authors :)

You Holy Fool by chasingxrabbits

Liam is a good kid, on the right path until he finds something wicked making a home in his church. (A slightly religious AU where Liam has a moral dilemma and Louis is falling head over heals for the curly headed sophomore.)

Unfathomable Distances  by chasingxrabbits 

A Skyrim AU where Liam is the reigning prince of Falkreath hold. Zayn is one of the palace guards. When Liam's best friend and Thane to the hold, Louis, contracts a mysterious illness, Liam is left with a choice. Does he leave Falkreath City in search for a cure, and who could (or would) ever accompany him on such a tumultuous journey?

Can't Help Falling in Love With You by eternallyunleashed 

In the 18 years he's been alive Zayn has learnt to deal with the insane amounts of anxiety and stress that life threw his way. It was always easy to stay back and pretend he was invisible. After agreeing to Harry's idea of an internship he realizes all his hopes of maintaining a quiet simple life as he works towards Med-school get tossed out the window. Liam Payne enters his life. Zayn can't put a name to all the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to rip his body apart by just being near Liam, but he is certain of one thing. The mere thought or sight of Liam makes him lose the ability to breathe.

For Liam his goal is pretty simple. Ever since he laid eyes on Zayn, who looks like sin in human form with eyes that threaten to rip a man's heart out, he knew he had to have the boy. He needs him more than he's wanted anything in his entire life. Otherwise his red hot desire for the boy might just take him to his death.

The author also has drabbles that are super cute and fluffy so when the fic gets real angsty (which it does, bud), you can just read the drabbles to ease heartache, ya feel?

Intoxicate Me, Mesmerize Me, Obliterate Me by eternallyunleashed (WIP)

There was a certain heat obtained from rebellion that even the actual throes of heat never sparked. Keeping up an image of perfection; being the good kid, the perfect son to the Mayor and Chief of Police, the city of Lincoln’s sweetheart omega, it was all taxing to Zayn. Walking the thin line of danger was exhilarating. Was it coincidental that this danger happened to be an attraction to a certain alpha who was none other than the leader of the South Side Vipers gang, who seemed to despise him and the part of town he came from? Probably not. But when had anything ever stopped Zayn?

Tangled Up in You by marcel

It turns out Zayn’s flatmate is essentially a disney prince. Zayn wonders how this became his life.

Never Be Alone by sunnysideup (WIP)

Liam and Zayn have been undercover police officers for several years, and they've got out of messes, serious messes, before.

Except that was together, now they're in a mess again but this time they're apart and Zayn has to find a way to save Liam who knows that even as Zayn tries, his own fate is sealed.

Or is it?

Baby all I need is Time by sunnysideup

Liam's just your average, too average, 13 year old who wants something better, but mainly to be 30.

Then it happens, overnight and things are as complicated as you can imagine.

Push by sunnysideup

They're playing in Sheffield during the TMH tour when suddenly OT5 get body-swapped for some reason and it's a scramble to find out who's who before they go onstage....this is what happens...

So Take me To the Paradise in Your Eyes by deniallisstrong (WIP)

hey, what’s up? he tries. No, too simple for being a number he stole off of a textbook.

i think fate meant to bring us together ;) No. That one, on the other hand, is way too much. Shaking his head to clear out all of his other terrible ideas, he tries one last time. hey, i think u forgot to clear out ur old textbook haha. cuz ur number was still in there. my friend said i should text it, so... hi lol

(Or, where Liam finds Zayn’s number in his textbook, and Louis prods him until he texts it. Things go downhill from there) [A Fetus Uni AU]

Snapshots by lazydaisy

Niall, Harry, Louis, Zayn, and Liam are graduating high school and are looking back on the past fondly. Zayn is valedictorian and writes a secret speech that he won't even let his boyfriend Liam read before the big day. Love, friendship, and dreams are heavy in the budding summer air.

Mind over Matter by lazydaisy

Liam accidentally tells his mom that he and Zayn are dating, and she demands a visit. Zayn goes along with it. 

Falling in Love With a Stranger by livingforamiracle

Zayn's having a terrible day, but one beautiful and caring stranger somehow changes it all around, turning it into one of the best days of Zayn's life.

It’s Always Been You by livingforamiracle

An AU where Liam consistently goes on bad dates only to realize that his favorite dates are the ones where he's holed up in his flat with his best friend Zayn.

Longing to Belong (to You) by Pluie13

“Awww, aren't you two domestic?” Louis mocks, while Liam is brutally brought back to reality. Oh, yeah, right, Zayn doesn't like him like that.

A Full Course Meal by LibbyWrites

Liam had been dreaming about having his own restaurant for a few years. Money was always an issue, though, so when he heard the Food Network was recording a few episodes of Chopped in his city, he let his best friend talk him into participating.

Many things could go wrong along the way; from ruthless rivals to impossible ingredients, from unforgiving judges to his own mind getting in the way. He spent long nights fretting about the possibilities and still, he never could have guessed what Chopped really had in store for him.

The Only One Who Takes You Home by ziamruinedmylife

“Maybe we should make this a weekly thing,” Zayn suggests softly, pressing the words into Liam’s hair. “… the lunch or the sex?” Liam isn’t opposed to either. “Both,” Zayn decides, pressing a kiss to Liam’s forehead. “ ‘s that alright with you?” Liam pauses, tapping a finger under his chin, pretending to think deeply before sighing. “I guess I can pencil you into my very busy schedule.” “Thank you for your sacrifice, baby,” Zayn mocks, and Liam laughs. “Anything for you,” and it’s truer than Liam would like to admit. He really would do just about anything for the older man, and it should terrify him, but because Liam is an idiot, he’s not scared at all. Falling is fun, he thinks, that is, until you hit the bottom.

or

the fluffiest stripper AU in which businessman!Zayn and stripper!Liam have a lot of feelings and they both get more than they expected.

you could be my cure by jmcats

The thing is, Zayn is almost overwhelmingly certain that he’s only ever fallen in love four times but he thinks this is the only one that actually counts

(alternately: Nothing about Zayn is traditional, especially not the way he falls in love with Liam, or everything before and after that)

These Faded Stars Along Our Horizons by ch3stpaynes

Zayn isn't used to this; the buzzing feeling that comes along with pinched grins, cherry red lips and eyes like Sunday morning coffee. He's used to smogged out cities, not enough oxygen between each breath and perhaps a few spliffs with the boys when the weather isn't absolutely dreadful.

we are the quiet ones by englandziam

Zayn feels invincible, in the midst of this small town with a couple of best mates and literature students who seem to get him. He misses home but as every day approaches these people feel less like strangers and more like family.

(Or a University AU where Zayn is an English student and Liam is the football captain).

i wanna see you bright by englandziam

Zayn notices the fond smile smearing crinkles round Liam’s eyes when he realises Zayn is wearing his football shirt, his fingers fisting the crimson material pooling at Zayn’s thighs. He wears it a lot, the ‘PAYNE’ written over his back a little comforting when Liam isn’t there, or when they’re out and everyone is cosying up to Liam at the bar, or trying to dance with him. (Not that he needs to worry – because Liam holds his hand the whole time and always interrupts with tiny kisses wandered over his cheek and dipped into his hair).

A short sequel to we are the quiet ones

i could drink a case of you by englandziam

Liam is a firefighter. Zayn is an art journalist, and neither of them do this - (until they do)

This Is What Makes Us Girls by ziammehome

“Liam, have I corrupted you more than I thought?” Zayn teased, sounding impressed from the side of the pool.

Liam shrugged. “Maybe I was was just waiting to be corrupted.”

Tunnel Vision by scottmcniceass

In which Zayn is an award-winning popstar with a knack for getting himself in trouble, and Liam is the bodyguard he didn’t want to hire who has a few problems with staying professional.

Floating On The Water by scottmcniceass

Liam just wants to get through his last summer working at Malik Resort before University without incident. Of course, life is never that easy, and he ends up getting roped into giving the bosses son, Zayn, swimming lessons. That wouldn't be so bad, if Zayn didn't happen to hate him so much.

Can I Keep You by scottmcniceass

Liam is always trying to do what's best for himself and his daughter, but raising a kid on his own at twenty-two, on top of juggling school work and a full-time job, isn't easy. Zayn just wants a chance to show Liam that he's not going to walk out on them. And Liam's daughter, Emma? She just wants to keep Zayn.

Have You Tried Turning It On and Off? by goddess_julie

Zayn works at the Genius Bar at Apple. She's visited by a lad named Louis who claims to be gay but wants to know if she's single. She fixes peoples Apple problems and in the meantime, fixes a problem she didn't even realize she had.

What the Words Means by SoftlyandSwiftly

Zayn's been a little (a lot) in love with Liam for so long now that he doesn't even really think about it anymore. It's just a constant hum in his veins, and he's fine with it he swears, even though Liam has no idea. But then a certain word slips out of his mouth, and well things change. 

honey, you’re familiar by tachycardia

It's December, two years after the end of One Direction, and Zayn moves into Liam's neighbourhood. Secret-dating, post-band fic.

Only you can set my heart on fire by Rosesnfeathers

“And even Liam Payne is on the list man! How funny it would be Payne, playing The Pain!”

Zayn quickly raises his head towards Louis and he feels his own face fall at those words. Knowing that Louis’ would see it, he tries to busy himself by looking at his phone and drinking coffee but, it’s too late. He sees his friend looking at that big poster on their wall, the cover of the first issue of The Pain, and then looking back at Zayn. He does that a few times before finally speaking.

“Oh you didn’t!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Or

Zayn works for Marvel Comics and maybe has the biggest crush on actor Liam Payne. What a surprise it is to him when his comic, blatantly inspired by Liam himself, is going to be on the big screen and Liam is the one chosen to play the main character.

Light a Candle for the Fallen Angel by chocobubblepanda

“Liam?” I ask to the gloom, my voice cracks. There’s no answer. I take a step back while frenetically looking everywhere. I try to reach for my back, but there’s no metallic grip, there’s no sword. Whatever is out there, moves again among the shadows, brief as the blink of an eye, perturbing like a wolf’s howl. I’m terrified. I’m sure by now that it is a demon. It may be Liam and if that’s the case, I fell into his trap like a complete fool.

(Or the one were a mere human named Zayn investigates his father’s death, and when every human and every angel turns their backs to him, the only option left is asking for help among the demoniacal side. And it is here where he encounters a young, mischievous demon named Liam...will he be able to help him? Will both of them act as their natures dictate?...)

Twelve (formerly Hello Twelve, Hello Love) by watyonameisgurl

In which Zayn comes back to him slowly…

When Liam and Zayn were 12, Zayn suddenly went missing in the middle of the night. With no leads, no evidence of a break-in, and no requests for ransom the police eventually concluded that Zayn simply ran away and they closed the case. His family never believed it and neither did Liam.

10 years later Liam gets held hostage during a bank heist only to find that one of the robbers is Zayn. But he doesn’t seem to recognize Liam or even his own name. Liam tries to track Zayn down on his own, hesitant to involve the police who in his experience have proved to be untrustworthy more often than not. But then Liam starts noticing strange things in his apartment. His bedroom door closed halfway when he’s sure he left it all the way open; the tv remote sitting slightly further to the left than where he usually leaves it; a stray hair on the floor, darker and shorter than his own. At first he assumes it’s just the other boys messing with him but the longer it goes on the more he starts to wonder if he might actually be going crazy.

He doesn’t realize until it’s too late that while he’s been busy searching for Zayn all this time, Zayn has already found him.

Taking a Chance (Going the Distance) by transteverogers

Liam loves acting and singing so when he gets casts as the lead in the school's play Hercules, he's excited to say the least. Until he finds out who his love intrests is.

(AKA the one with every cliche of popular!liam and nerdy!zayn with just a dash of high school musical thrown in. With lots of miscomunication and cupboards, too)

Steady to the Shore by transteverogers

Liam's verified on twitter and everything but somehow he's failing english.

(AKA the one where they're both sorta famous and go to the same uni and Zayn tutors him and there's a lot of pinning going on)

Nobody Knows You Baby (The Way I Do) by transteverogers

Zayn and Liam accidentally get nominated for cutest couple at school and Louis makes a bet with them that they won't win.

(AKA the one where everyone was betting and nothing is accidental)

Life by transteverogers

Liam Payne is Donny High's own sport protege and Zayn Malik is the lucky (read: unlucky) journalism student who gets (forced) to interview him

(AKA the one where Liam's sweeter than he looks, Zayn's a little judgmental and miscommunication's a bitch)

Let Me Treasure You by transteverogers

Liam's a douchecanoe and Zayn really doesn't want to like him, but maybe it can work out?

(AKA Liam's a pressured son of Zeus, Zayn's the new Aphrodite kid and Harry knew all of this would happen before it did)

Four Arrows (Led You to Me) by transteverogers

An au where people get tattoos of their soulmates and everyone works in a hotel

(AKA the one where I wanted an excuse to do handy man!Liam and soul mates)

[fredyates1992]

Can I Learn Reiki Online Wonderful Useful Ideas

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What Does Reiki Heal

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