#And I dunked my head under the water while plugging my nose for the first time literally the last time I was at the pool

[decaycontest]

I cannot sleep

[plumfulkiss]

water (5/10)

summary: will and connor’s vacation takes an unexpected but not unwelcome turn.

 The drive out of Illinois and into Missouri was a six hour and nine minute excursion that Will didn’t expect to be taking when he woke up at five in the morning. Connor was outside his house, the house he evidently knew so much about, with the car running and ready to go. It’d be warmer there, Connor had told him over texts the night before, and he had a plan.

 Will had dragged his bag out under the sunless sky, still in pajamas, intending to stay comfortable during the long ride. He tossed it in the back of Connor’s car before clambering into the passenger side.

 “Good morning, sunshine,” Connor offered with a smile.

 Will waved, stifling a yawn.

 “Let’s get a move on.”

 Within twenty minutes of driving, Will had fallen back asleep and left Connor to drive alone for a while. Connor didn’t mind. He had brought with him an old binder of CDs from high school to keep the journey chugging along, a hand crafted selection of the best music the nineties had to offer. Currently, the selection was Green Day, on low so that Will could rest peacefully. Connor whistled along, casting a glance towards Will every once in a while. He turned the heat up.

 The sun rose a couple hours into the drive, and Will rose with it. He shifted in his seat, sleepily glancing over at Connor. He’d switched CDs to New Kids on the Block. “Really?” Will asked with a snicker, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the radio. There were two coffees in the cupholders between the radio and the console..

 Connor caught him staring, and quirked a brow. “The one in the back’s yours. Two cream, one sugar. Stopped just before you woke up,” He said, flicking to spray his windshield clean. “And      yes,    really. Do you have a problem with my music selection?”

 “No,” Will said, and when he reached for his coffee he turned it up to listen along.

 They stopped for breakfast at a roadside diner an hour from then. It was old, but in a nice way, and the two slid into opposite sides of a cushioned booth. Connor blew the wrapper of his straw at Will, hitting him square in the nose.

 “Nice aim.”

 “Thank you, Halstead.”

 For a moment, Connor got his hand wet; condensation and all that, but Will was quick to take care of it. It was the first time he’d prevented Connor turning and it worked. It made Connor smile, and Will blush.

 They split their breakfasts like a couple would, and for a moment Will was blissfully unaware of that connotation. It was when someone, a mother, ordered her child to look away that he slowly but surely lost appetite.

 “What’s wrong?” Connor asked, blue eyes glimmering with concern.

 “Nothing,” Will said, and that was that.

 After breakfast, Connor noted that they were already halfway there. Will was awake now, attentive and ready to stay up the next leg of the drive. They talked each other’s ears off; even when Connor wasn’t nervous, he had a knack for talking about a good many things.

 “Where are we even going, Connor?” Will asked, acutely aware of how nice it was for his name to roll off his tongue so nonchalantly. He clasped his hands together.

 Connor shrugged, as if even he didn’t know. “I’ve got this place that I just figured we could use to get away. Claire lent me the key, begrudgingly. Course, I didn’t tell her you were coming.”

 “You mean Claire with the cat that hates you?”

 The brunette laughed, reaching with a hand to touch the bandages on his neck. He couldn’t wait to take those off. “Yes, Claire with the cat. My sister, if you remember that much.”

 “Is the cat even real?”

 A pause.

 “Nah.”

 Will feigned shock. “You totally had me fooled!”

 Connor furrowed his brow.

 Will Halstead smiled. “Just kidding. To be honest, that’s the most unbelievable part of this entire thing.”

 Connor smiled sheepishly and went to turn the music up.

 They spoke like that, on and off and on and off, sharing stories and conversing the most they had since the day Connor rode into the ED on a gurney. Will was happy, though lingering doubt nipped at his thoughts the closer and closer they got to their destination.

 With fifteen minutes left to go, Connor pulled off onto a sideroad into some woods. For some reason, worry was the first emotion Will felt. “Are you going to kill me, Rhodes?”

 Connor laughed. “Maybe. Depends on how you react to where we’re staying.”

 He said nothing else.

 In a clearing, Will caught a glimpse of a lake and a little row of houses. They were all gorgeous, private and out by the water, and Will didn’t think he’d ever be able to even afford one of them. Yet, here they were. Connor was about to take him to one of these, and Will was staring out the window like it was the first snow of the season.

 As the road wrapped around, Connor did not pull into the first or second, but the third house on the water. It was pristine, looking like it was freshly sold just yesterday, or maybe just empty. The car stopped and Connor retrieved the key, sitting for just a moment before looking at Will.

 “Not bad?” He asked, hoping he’d stick the landing.

 Will chuckled gently. “Not bad at all.”

 There were four bedrooms to choose from, Will noted as he dropped his stuff into one of the rooms. Each had a bathroom, and all of those bathrooms were bigger than his own “master” bathroom. This place reeked of money, but Will figured he would accept it for right now.

 Connor called from the other room, across the hall. “Meet you in the water, Halstead!”

 Will blushed. He was thankful the Chicago cold didn’t follow them here.

 The water was cool, enough to cause an initial shock, but nothing too long lasting. It felt great against his skin; bare, chilling but clean, and almost calming. He dipped under to wet his hair, plugging his nose before coming back up onto the surface. There was a little dock that jutted off the shore and into the lake, and Will pulled himself up onto it, waiting for Connor. He was still in the house, at least, he thought so. However, as time went on, Will with furrowed brow wasn’t so sure anymore.

     Splash,    a wave and whirl out maybe ten feet in front of him. A flash of skin, then shimmering blue scales and a flapping fin. When did he get here, Will wondered, then considered he could have been here before him, getting used to the feeling of being out here.

 Connor’s head dipped above the surface, a smile plastered on his face. “I’ve never done this before,” He admitted with a twist of his tail. Not shoved in the bathtub or on the floor, Will could see just how long and powerful it was. A simple shift became a ripple and then a wave, and it was amazing to see. Will was smiling; he didn’t realize.

 Connor grabbed Will’s ankles and pulled him in, a devilish expression painted on his features as there was another      splash    and suddenly they were close together, closer than they had been in a long while. They were breathing as one, close enough to sense.

 And then Will, plugging his nose, dunked under again. He wanted to see the tail where it was meant to be; in the water, in use, where it should be. He reached and touched, pressing against the scales gently, glancing up at Connor. Their eyes met. Will looked away.

 Something was going to      happen,    and Will could sense it. He could sense it as Connor dipped under with him, not having to hold any breath, just simple, serene. He could sense it when Connor touched Will’s jaw and turned him back towards those blue eyes, the blue eyes that had something to say; an agenda. He couldn’t sense it, though, as he let his nose free and Connor pulled him in and they were close enough to taste, dying for connection.

 And it happened.

 A kiss. Gentle, but wanting more. Desperate, like Connor had wanted this the entire time, which had been true. Will fell limp against him, eyes slammed shut, devolving into trusting him, only him. Connor’s tail wrapped around Will’s legs to stabilize them, his arms around his waist, holding a little two low to call it friendly, pressing against the small of his back, pulling him closer. Could any of this be friendly?

 Oxygen was their unignorable limiter; Connor wanted to stay like that for as long as possible. He parted hesitantly and sent them up, breaking the surface and sending them back into the sunlight, looking at Will almost anxiously. He expected the worst. They’d only just gotten here, and Connor had gotten impatient, not wanting to wait any longer for something he wanted.

 As they broke the surface, Will found time and caught his breath. His face was red;his heart was pounding and his mind was blurring with a feeling he didn’t know how to describe.

  He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay. There was absolutely no way. But…

 When he grabbed Connor by the shoulders and connected their lips again, falling together like the last pieces to the puzzle, he couldn’t deny the pulse of electricity between them. His eyes shut. His shoulders relaxed; He couldn’t remember the last time they did that. Their scruff rubbed against each other almost uncomfortably, but the different feeling caused the perpetual pit in Will’s stomach to dissipate, replaced with something better, something warmer. He reached a hand and snaked it into Connor’s wet hair, locking into it and holding on.

 Things felt okay, maybe even more than okay. He was home.

[pinetasticapple]

A Miraculous Carol: No time like the present

The Spirit of Time Present is here. Just what is Adrien about to observe?

Also on AO3 and FF

Adrien glanced at the clock. It was a little past one and no sign of the next spirit. Even so, he was wide awake, his mind reeling with ideas and theories on how he was going to foil Lila's web of lies. So many questions were rolling in his mind while he walked around his room, arms crossed while he came up with question after question, the inquiries piling up in his mind.

Should he go with the teachers? He had seen how little of help they've been with this situation, so that was out of question. The principal? He believed every lie Lila told, not to mention he was afraid of a bad reputation.

Should he tell Marinette? As much as he wanted to, a part of him was adamant to do so, since he didn't want to pull her down to more anguish thanks to Lila. He was serious in wanting to be by her side, after all, they were friends. And Marinette was someone that was always there for him. Heck, he had called her their everyday Ladybug.

Well, Adrien snapped his fingers in realization, then he could be like her every day Chat Noir in protecting her from evil.

Plagg snickered behind him.

"What?"

"That sounds funny."

Adrien's face flushed. He hadn't realized he had said that last part out loud. He ignored Plagg and continued his pacing. How was he going to convince his friends? He still had the bitterness of the picnic they were planning to do without Marinette. After everything she had done for them? For him?

He shook his head. No, he couldn't let his emotions overtake him.

They were all mostly blinded by all the supposed things Lila had been doing, and the possible networking they were going to have because Lila was telling names left and right. Adrien frowned. How had he not seen it before? Maybe they weren't hurt now but then? What would happen when the lies came undone?

The clock changed to 01:30 in the morning when a sharp knock startled him. He looked at Plagg but the kwami had moved to nap on his pillow. Adrien threw the covers on him and moved to open the door, careful to position himself in a way it blocked the sight of his pillows just in case Plagg shifted in his sleep.

He was shocked to see Kagami standing outside of his room.

"K-Kagami?"

"Hello Chat Noir," she said with a sharp tone and stepped into Adrien's room "it seems you have worked out your situation before my arrival."

Ah, so the next spirit, Adrien thought as he let her pass by him. He closed the door and followed her. The spirit that had taken Kagami's image walked and moved so similar like her, Adrien had trouble seeing if it was the spirit's personality or a very good impersonation.

She wasn't dressed like Kagami usually was. She was wearing what seemed to be an outfit based on her alter-ego Ryuko combined with her normal outfit, the skirt was longer and completely black, with red leggings and black polished shoes. Instead of a white shirt, she had a long black coat with red swirls around the sleeve cuffs and back.

"Are you…"

"I'm the Spirit of Present Time," she said, "I see my partner left on a good note with you, as I said, you are already working it out."

"Yes," Adrien straightened himself.

"The Miraculous grants powers but also responsibilities," Kagami said "the key to it is balance."

She pulled out a fencing sword as she spoke, Adrien taking a glimpse at it. It wasn't like the one Kagami used for practice. This one seemed to shine under her grip, the tip emanating a small glow that illuminated the area they were around.

"I am about to show you the ramifications of the present," she pointed the sword at him "Chat Noir, every decision we make, every choice we do, creates ripples in our time."

"Y-yes of course," Adrien tried not to put his guard up against the sword. He had no idea what Kagami was going to do, but as a Spirit, he had to be sure to show how on board he was with the situation.

Kagami nodded and lifted her sword, only to touch Adrien's head with it. Adrien felt like he had been dunk in freezing water. His skin had goosebumps as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. For a moment his lungs shrunk, his nose plugged as he gasped for air.

And just like it had started, it was over. Adrien looked down to see he was still in his pajamas, but he wasn't in his room anymore. He looked up to see he was standing right in front of Marinette's home. The sky above him was bright and devoid of clouds. It looked like a nice sunny day.

"What," he looked around but the Spirit was nowhere nearby, not even Plagg was with him this time. The streets weren't empty, but it seemed like no one was paying attention to him. He walked towards a man that was on the phone, but his eyes widened when his hand passed through him like he was a ghost.

"Oh, this is a vision then," Adrien turned around to see the park. If he had to guess it was around noon, with some kids playing and a group gathering on the far side. He squinted his eyes and recognized them all. They were his classmates. They were carrying things and setting a blanket on the grass and the realization hit Adrien.

This was the day of the picnic. But the one Nino had just told him. The one everyone arranged to have without Marinette.

He walked towards them, his hands balled in fists at his sides. One thing was to alienate their classmate, but to have the audacity of doing it right where she would see? The park was next to her house!

It was just when he was right up in Nino's space that he remembered, he wasn't there. They couldn't see him let alone hear him.

Adrien groaned but shook his head. He was here for a reason after all.

"It's too bad we couldn't get the usual pastries,"

"It would have been rude- "

"Don't worry, I'll make sure my aunt makes samples for all of you so you can try really good patisserie, she is a world-wide baker after all."

Adrien whipped his head at the sound of Lila's voice, his left eye twitching when he spotted her with the other girls of his class, gathered around Lila like moths to a flame. He didn't want to listen to them, he wanted to make them see sense in what they were doing was ostracizing a classmate, but he was unseen by them.

Has this how it had been before? Adrien blinked at that thought that crossed his mind. Had he said something against them before? The few times he could remember were when they celebrated that time they thought Chloé had left for good.

And even then he hadn't taken into account the reason behind it for them to do so.

It was then that Lila looked up at him and Adrien froze. Was she able to see him?

But she was giving a sly smile, her eyes a little above his and he turned around to see that no, Lila wasn't looking at him but at Marinette's home, where he spotted her right at the back door of her house.

Adrien's heart broke when he looked at her. Even from the distance, he could see the way her shoulders slumped on her frame, her eyes not looking at the group but at the ground. She looked just like how Adrien saw in that first vision a few hours ago.

Lila turned her eyes back to the group and laughed as she pulled an arm around Alya while the blogger took her phone for a photo and Adrien's stomach burned. This was beyond cruel. Lila had to have done this on purpose.

It was then that he spotted a purple butterfly flying towards her and his heart stopped. No, he walked towards Marinette, his steps quickening as the Akuma approached her. Not her, he thought in desperation, anyone but her.

Adrien ran out of the park and stretched his hands to push her when he phased right through her and the scenery around him changed.

It was night time, but he still wasn't in his room but the streets of Paris, where he saw Ladybug sitting on the edge of a rooftop, her eyes fixed on the Eiffel Tower. Adrien looked around and blinked when he saw himself sitting next to her. As Chat Noir.

"My lady?"

"Today was too close," Ladybug sighed "it's concerning."

"You mean the Akuma that almost got…"

"That girl can't handle more akumas targeting her Chat," Ladybug said, "it's getting too dangerous."

Adrien held his relief inside. Marinette hadn't been akumatized but what Ladybug was saying worried him more. More times? Had Marinette been targeted multiple times? He tried to work out when that could have been, many situations coming up, the majority related to Lila.

"But, Buginette, even if it happens, we will be able to defeat the Akuma and help her," he heard himself say.

"Perhaps," she looked at the sky, and Adrien wanted to reach to her, hold her, assure her that he was going to be there for Marinette.

"I just don't think I'll be that strong."

Ladybug's words froze him in place. He couldn't hear the rest because the scene stopped there. What did she mean? Was she close to Marinette? Adrien bit his thumb. He also didn't think he would be able to face an akumatized Marinette. Something inside him yelled at him it was wrong, how would he even fight his princess?

Adrien's thoughts halted. He called her princess of course when he was Chat Noir. Why did he think it now? Marinette was special to him, even if she was the second friend she made on that day, she was always there to show him kindness, even after that rough start. She always gave the extra mile for him and even if she sometimes looked nervous around him, Adrien never felt less appreciated around her.

She was special to him yes. A dear friend. A good friend that needed his support. He wanted to be there for her as well, support her, protect her, hold her close-

Wait.

Adrien blushed. Where did that last thought come from?

The scene changed. He was back at school, his classroom with everyone but Marinette and himself in it. Adrien found himself at the doorway, with Alya talking with Lila on the place that belonged to Marinette.

"I mean, it is weird that she is always away or unseen whenever there's an Akuma," she said in a hushed tone "for all we know, she might be helping Hawkmoth!"

"And she is the only one from the class that hasn't been akumatized."

"What about Adrien?" he heard Nino turn to them "he hasn't been akumatized either."

"Because Adrien is nothing but good," Lila sighed and Adrien's skin crawled "while Marinette? I know she's been your friend but after the things she's said to me…"

The anger rose again in Adrien's throat. He hated that, people assuming he was perfect, a model boy that did nothing wrong. If anything, Adrien was more and more aware that he had lots of flaws, but he wanted to do good. He wanted to learn from them and be around people who didn't put him on a damn pedestal.

He turned to a side to control his anger when he saw Marinette, her eyes widened as she listened to the same conversation that was going on in the classroom, and his anger increased more.

Marinette was strong. Marinette was determined. She didn't need anyone to take her fights.

But Marinette was a person. She was a teen just like him, someone that needed a friend, someone that stood by her side.

"Ladybug can defend herself just fine, but if there is one person she can trust to have her back at all times, it's us."

Felix's words resonated in his brain. Didn't he say that before he was shown all these visions? He was going to be her every day Chat Noir.

The Marinette in front of him turned on her heels and ran away from the school, with Adrien following after her, desperation in his eyes as he ran after her. There was nothing he could do right then, nothing but watch how Marinette bumped into someone else that caught her before she fell.

"S-sorry,"

"Marinette?"

Adrien looked at Luka's expression frowning in concern as he held Marinette by the shoulders, talking to her with his calm tone until she calmed down. Adrien's stomach twisted inside him at how easy Luka managed to do that with her, how easy Marinette's shoulders slumped and leaned on the musician. But he growled in frustration when he saw yet another purple butterfly going their way. Luka had to do something, Marinette was too vulnerable right now!

"Marinette,"

"There's one here isn't it?" Marinette laughed with tears falling down her eyes, it made Adrien's heart clench.

"You can resist it Marinette," he heard Luka say while the butterfly hovered above Marinette.

"I just don't think I'll be that strong."

Adrien remained frozen on his spot as darkness came back to his surroundings. He was back in his room, the clock marking it was already past 3 in the morning, but Adrien couldn't care less about that.

There was no doubt. Marinette was going to be akumatized.

But her choice of words, they resonated inside Adrien.

"Chat Noir?" he heard Kagami's voice "have you seen what is happening?"

"Y-I…"

Adrien couldn't put his thoughts in coherent order. The words she said, the attitude, the traits. Adrien's brain was processing it all too fast. Marinette and Ladybug, Ladybug and Marinette. Even if he knew just how wrong was what Lila had said, there was a speck of truth in that Marinette was never around during Akuma attacks.

"Kid?" he heard Plagg approaching him, poking him on the cheek but he was too focused on his thoughts.

Marinette always disappeared during Akuma attacks. Same like he.

Marinette always had creative ways to do anything put in front of her. Ladybug had way too creative plans to defeat Akuma. Marinette was goal-driven like Ladybug. Marinette was loyal, determined, kind and caring like Ladybug.

"What did he see?"

"The now," the spirit replied, "but what he is gathering is up for him to realize."

Ladybug had the same shade of eyes as Marinette. Ladybug had the same damn hairstyle like Marinette. Ladybug stayed up until late night with him and Marinette had bags under her eyes, waving them off as late-night projects.

"Adrien? Answer me, kid, you are worrying me."

Adrien had met them both on the same day.

"Marinette is Ladybug."

He blinked, looking at Plagg and the spirit. Kagami put her sword away and gave them both a curt nod before walking towards the door, disappearing before she even touched it.

"Marinette is Ladybug" Adrien looked at Plagg, his eyes scanning the kwami to see if he was right, his suspicions coming true when Plagg didn't laugh it off.

"Well shoot, that was not the lesson you had to see."

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Sun-Kissed

A/N: the first of 19 smooch requests, and what better way to start than with sweet angel Ryan Brenner? This is connected to the story SPF found under the drabbles on my master list. So if you haven’t read that one maybe you want to?

Word Count: 1,632

Prompt: from @its-my-little-dumpster-fire

“When was the last time you got to see them all?” You asked, looking out your window as the scrubby bushes got thinner and thinner, the ground beneath them growing increasingly sandy.

Ryan caught you nervously picking at the cuticle of your left thumb out of the corner of his eye, something you hadn’t done in quite a while. She’s nervous. He took one hand off the steering wheel and slid it across the console of the rental car to cover your hand, stilling your nervous habit. He gave a light squeeze and wrapped his fingers around your hand until the tips could feel the sweaty cup of your palm. You still hadn’t looked over at him, but he felt you relax under his touch and it brought one of his cheeks up into his eye. She’s got nothin’ to be nervous about. They’re gonna love her like I do.

You’d been quiet that morning after the two of you had finally untangled yourselves from the thin white sheets. It had been a few weeks since you’d slept in a bed, a few weeks since you’d had a locking door, and you’d made good use of both. Ryan woke first, breathing quietly and softly so he wouldn’t wake you as you rested against his bare chest. Neither of you had remembered to turn the A.C. on before falling into bed and each other, and the room was warm, your close proximity making him even warmer. But it was nothing new, waking up wearing each other’s sweat, so he didn’t let it bother him, simply watching as your eyelashes fluttered in protest of the thin beams of morning sun slipping beneath the pulled shade. As he felt your cheek press deeper into his flesh, he smiled sleepily, bringing the arm that was draped around your torso up to trace the branch of delicate pink flowers inked there. You squirmed a little more, hooking your leg to pull his closer as he brought his hand up to your knotted, damp hair. Wakin’ up with her is the best part of wakin’ up.

“Mornin’, Bug,” he mumbled before turning his face to meet your forehead with his lips and the scruff covering his chin. “C’mon, gotta get movin’.” He’d pulled you out of the bed and into the shower, turning the faucet to make it cool, kissing your shoulders and your neck once the soap had been rinsed off.

You’d made two cups of coffee to go in the small plug in pot on the motel dresser, wordlessly handing him one with a quiet smile. He’d licked the drip from the cup’s lid before thanking you, throwing an arm around your shoulders, bare in the oversized tee you’d thrown on over your bathing suit, and grabbing the keys, headed outside locking up behind you. He hadn’t thought much about your silence, knowing by now that you needed your coffee before you opened your mouth. But now, almost an hour later and only a few minutes from the beach parking lot, he knew that it had nothing to do with a lack of caffeine. “Hey,” he pulled your hand over to his own lap and you turned as he did. “Why’re you nervous?”

You blew air out of your mouth and the way it made your hair float around your face only made you look more beautiful to him. “Because they’re the only family you talk about, Ryan. I know how important they all are to you and...I just…” you shrugged, trailing off.

“Well,” he pulled your hand up in his to tuck your hair back as he turned off the main road and down a gravely path, the car rocking over the uneven ground. “It’s been about six years since I saw all of ‘em. Jimmy was travelin’ and Taylor was with her husband’s family last time I came home,” he explained, answering your original question. “But you got nothin’ to worry about, okay Junebug? They’re real excited to meet you.” He laughed as he pulled into a spot between a well used truck covered in bumper stickers- Tommy’s, and a green Jeep that belonged to Fitz. “They’re probably gonna tell you lots of embarrassing stories from when we were kids, so if anythin’ I should be nervous, not you.” You smiled then, a real one, teeth and all, and he knew that you were still a little worried about meeting the gaggle of cousins, but that he’d made you feel better.

“Okay,” you said as he dropped your hand to pull the keys from the ignition. “Let’s do it.”

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

Ryan was right about everything; his cousins had nearly tackled you to into the dunes in a series of hugs, surrounding you with smiles that all looked vaguely like the one belonging to the man that you loved. You’d laughed hysterically when Patrick tossed you a bottle of sunscreen, telling you to apply generously so you didn’t end up radish red like Ryan and Taylor had when the group was young and drunk and naive about sun safety, Ryan’s cheeks reddening with the memory as he shot you a look that said “See? Told ya.”

Zach wanted to know about living in Colorado as he was trying to decide between the Centennial State or somewhere on the West Coast for his next big move. You had learned from Ryan that Zach liked to spend a year or so in different places, but always landed back in Georgia for a few months in between.

Sprawled on the blankets that Taylor had set up, you leaned against Ryan’s shoulder, his arm around you as Jimmy expressed that he wanted the three of you to play together back at Ma’s after the beach, telling you that he had a keyboard that you could use.

Taylor abruptly pulled you by the hand from Ryan’s grasp, recruiting you to play volleyball with Fitz and Tommy in a battle of the sexes while Ryan, Zach and Patrick watched each with a beer in their hands. You’d earned even more points with the cousins when you dove to make a save, coming up covered in sand but grinning ear to ear at the hoots and hollers and the disappointed look on Fitz’s face at having his spike foiled.

“You know,” Patrick had told you once you’d traded out with Ryan to take a break from the game. “You’re the first girl Ryan’s really brought home.” You looked at the freckled face next to you, half hidden by a mop of brown hair similar to but slightly lighter than Ryan’s, and felt your lips drop open. “An’ I can tell he really...I can tell he loves you. You make ‘im happy. I’m real glad y’all found each other, an’ I’m real glad you could make the trip down here. I know it means a lot to Ryan that you’re here.”

You’d thanked him and clinked the neck of your beer against his before finishing it and heading down to the water where Ryan was wading in up to his waist. Can’t believe I was nervous. They’re all so… they’re great. This is him, this is his home. And they’re part of it.

Taylor and Zach were headed back up to the blanket, Taylor high fiving you again for your magnificent volleyball performance, but your eyes were locked on Ryan as he dunked under a crashing wave, emerging again and pushing his wet hair back. You didn’t waste time getting acclimated to the water, simply diving in to cool off, swimming over to where Ryan was, and circling your arms around him.

“Hey, you,” he said, strong arms replicating your action to hold you close as the salty water rolled against your bodies. “You havin’ fun?” You nodded, touching your nose to his. “Told ya you had nothin’ to worry ab-oof”

You cut him off with your lips on his, pulling him as close as you could. He laughed into your mouth as he kissed you back before you felt his tongue sliding against yours, the faint flavor of salinated water and cheap beer making the kiss taste like summer. The sun beat down on your wet shoulders as his arms tightened around you and the kiss changed as you poured another level of love into it. It had been almost two years since you’d been with Ryan, and you already considered him your family. But now he’d brought you into his, and you were celebrating the fact that your family had grown right there on that beach. You felt his forehead furrow as it pressed against your own, and you smiled as you pulled away, knowing that he felt what you were thinking.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Ryan,” you whispered, pushing the hair that had been plastered to the side of his face back.

“‘Course,” he said, dropping his lips to the rounded, sunkissed top of your cheek. “Thanks for comin’ with me.”

“Patrick told me you never brought anyone back here before.”

He nodded. “That’s right. No one before you meant enough to me.” His hands were still on you though his hold had loosened, and you felt his thumb moving across the top of your bathing suit bottoms under the water. “This place and my cousins, my aunts and… and all of this,” his soft leather eyes rolled up to the sun and the sky, over the white peaked waves and the soft, hot sand. “This is my home. And so are you. So it’s only right, to me that-”

You cut him off again, celebrating the way you both had let the love between you grow so organically, and he laughed again, pulling you close as the gaggle cheered and shouted at you from the shore.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @agent-bossypants @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @ymariejp @breanime

[hazzasgayvodka]

MISTER LONG TERM BOOTY CALL THE SERIES DEBUT WEDNESDAY 5/15 @ 4pm EST

If you haven't read the original piece you can dive in here

And if you haven't read the first sneak peek you can read it here

AND NOW

For sneak peek #2!!!

"Sorbet is a fruit slush and ice cream is like frozen milk or whatever!" You huff, shoving him over and grabbing the wine glass out of his hand, "They are not the same thing!"

"Well as long as you're cultured and know that sherbet is not sorbet." He shrugs, snatching his now empty wine glass back out of your hand.

"Why yes of course," You tease, leaning over the edge of the tub to grab the bottle of red wine sitting on the tile, "I happen to be very cultured and involved within the frozen dessert fandom, H."

"All I'm saying is a lot of people use those terms interchangeably," He chuckles, filling both of your glasses back up, "Which is so laughably incorrect."

"Simply preposterous," You scoff exaggeratively, earning another laugh from him, "So what is it then, what's the difference?"

"You don't know?" He gasps, feigning shock, "I thought you were involved."

"Involved in the fact that I eat frozen dessert, idiot," You giggle, kicking your foot out of the water and splashing him, "Involvement is subjective."

"It's a binary statement!" He huffs, splashing you back and nearly landing soapy bathwater right in your wine glass, "You're either involved or you're not, I suppose degrees of involvement is a different story but I won't go on hassling you about donating to your local scene."

You sit back against the tub behind you, breathing out a sigh and rolling your eyes wondering just how this definitive dumbass became your best friend all those years ago. He's still giggling like a little school boy, clearly tickled by his own joke amidst your little debate. He's finishing the last bit of wine in the bottom of his glass and you come to wonder just how much the two of you have drank. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, equal parts tipsy and high from the joint you both shared in his car about an hour ago before you slipped on swimsuits to take a bath together. He has another one stashed behind his ear and despite your many attempts to tell him to not keep it there while sitting in a bubble bath, he refuses to relocate it.

"How high are you?" He asks finally, his head lolling back against the tub behind him.

"I don't know," You shrug, "I'm coming down."

"Me too," He nods, with that devious grin on his face, "Wanna get back up?"

You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you let yourself sink further down into the water, the ends of your hair falling into the bubbles as you let the water rise up to your neck. He grabs your foot out of the water and you try to squirm out of his grip but he's got an iron grip.

"Harry what the hell are you doing?" You laugh, trying to tug your foot away.

"Hey, stop it!" He chuckles, "My aunt used to do this where she'd grab my foot and pop my toes, she said however many toes pop are how many lies you told today."

"Is that why your toes look like that?" You tease, splashing him again, "I just thought you were a hobbit."

"Oh yeah, a six foot hobbit, real funny," He scoffs, tugging on your pinky toe and making it pop, "Would you look at that, lie number one!"

"I haven't lied today!" You laugh, trying to sound serious through your giggling and squirming as he purposefully tickles your feet.

"The toes don't lie, Y/N," He chuckles, "Might as well fess up now."

"I don't know what you're talking about Styles," You smirk, "The only lie I've told today is when I told you your hair looked cute earlier."

He scrunches up his nose, shaking his head with that usual smug little grin on his face as he drops your foot, leaning over you instead. He carefully grabs each of your wine glasses and sets them safely outside the tub before hoisting you up in his arms making you squirm and scream, grabbing onto the faucet for leverage.

"Harry! Put me down!" You shriek, writhing around in his arms to get away.

"No way! Time for the epic water dunk!" He shouts, meeting your eyes, "But I'm not a sadist so I will tell you to plug your nose in three, two-"

His little countdown is never finished as that devilish grin returns to his face and suddenly you're being plunged under the soapy water before he hardly has all of the word two out of his mouth. You come up out of the water sputtering, wiping the bubbles from your eyes and wringing out your hair while he sits laughing his ass off across from you.

"You are so dead, Styles!" You shout, jumping on top of him to push his head under the water.

"Y/N! My weed! Stop you're gonna-"

"I told you not to bring it in the bath." You smirk, meeting his eyes one last time before shoving his head and his joint right under the water.

He pops back up, spitting out water and shooting daggers at you, "You are an absolute demon."

"Hmm, am I?" You tease, "I guess I could argue that my involvement was subjective."

[welldamnsatoru]

Guess our secret’s out // SHAWN MENDES

Request: Can you do one where Shawn and y/n are secretly dating and people find out by them being in a private beach or pool being all cute and cuddly and kissy

Authors note: Just though you should know I hate the word trunks- as in swimming trunks. It creeps me out.

“I bet that I can reach the other end of the pool before you can.” I taunt Shawn, my towel chucked over my shoulder as we walk through the hotel lobby to the pool. It was 10 at night and Shawn had reserved the pool just for us so we could have some time away from prying eyes.

“You think you can beat me?” Shawn grins, shoving me with his elbow and I glare at him, whacking him in the stomach with my hand. 

“Of course I could. If you swim anything like the way you drive, you’ll be eating my dust.” I laugh, watching his eyebrows pinch in an irritated expression.

“Fine. You’re on woman. First one to the end of the pool wins.” He opens the door to the pool with his key card and the overbearing scent of chlorine hits me in the face.

I lead us over to the chairs to the side, the lap pool taking up the middle of the room. Chucking our towels on the chairs, I shimmy out of my T-shirt dress and turn around to see Shawn clad in a pair of black swimming shorts.

“Give a girl some warning won’t you?” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder as I walk past him to the stairs of the pool.

“I could say the same to you.” Shawn murmurs, his hands reaching out to rest on my waist, stopping me in my tracks. His front is pressed against my back and I try my best to ignore the shivers shooting down my spine at his touch.

“Are we going to swim or are we going to chat?” I look at him over my shoulder and he pouts, his bottom lip puffing out and he looks so adorable that I almost consider forgetting about swimming all together. 

“We’re going to swim!” His face lights up and the cheeky glint in his eyes should have been enough warning for what he was about to do. The world tips and in a flash I’m over his shoulder. 

“Shawn!” I shriek, my laughter echoing around the deserted room. “Put me down.”

“And why would I do that? We’re just having a little pre-race fun.” Then I’ve been thrown into the pool. The heated water surrounding me and I push off the tiled floor, rising above the water, gasping for air.

“You ass!” I shout, wiping the water off my face.

“Sorry Hun,” He chuckles, sliding into the pool slowly.

“You won’t be saying sorry soon.” I huff, moving to the edge of the pool where our race would begin. “Remember, it’s fair play here Shawn. No cheating.”

“Just see if you can keep up sweetie.” He grins maliciously and I roll my eyes.

“Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Go.” I take a gulp of air before pushing off the wall to propel myself further. I begin a freestyle stroke, kicking as fast as I could. When I take another breath I look to my left to see Shawn a meter or so behind me.

I focus on swimming again, pushing myself to go faster. Suddenly a hand wraps around my ankle pulling me back. I gasp, accidentally swallowing some of the chlorine packed water.

Shawn’s in front of me now and I do the same thing to him, grabbing his own ankle to pull him back. Somehow the race is now forgotten. Shawn is standing up, trying to reach for me as I swim to the side, shrieking in mock fear.

“Come here,” He laughs, lunging for me again but I dodge.

“Come and get me, slowpoke.” I call, grabbing onto the edge of the pool. He’s closer then I expected and it’s too late for me to escape, his arms caging me in.

“Got you.” His nose brushes mine and all laughter from before disappears. 

“Oh no,” I say in a deadpan voice.

He laughs, kissing me briefly. “What am I going to do with you now?” 

“Hmm.. maybe this?” I move quickly, dunking his head under the water.

He resurfaces, wiping water out of his eyes, coughing. “I think I just swallowed half the pool.”

“Aw, Shawn I’m sorry-“ I start to say but I’m cut off by him splashing me in the face with water.

“Are you serious-“ Splash.

“Shawn-“ Splash.

“Stop!” Splash.

When he finally stops I open my eyes to see his head tilted back as he laughs uncontrollably.

“You should have seen you’re face!” He pauses just to continue laughing again.

“I’m going back to our room and you’re going to be sleeping on the floor.” I scowl, swimming towards the steps out of the pool.

He doesn’t say anything except for the chuckles of amusement.

I walk over to the chairs wrapping a towel over my body, the cold causing goose bumps to appear on my body.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Shawn says from the pool.

“No you’re not.” I say smiling at him, my anger from before dispersing at the happiness Shawn shows. We hadn’t decided to go public yet with our relationship so we rarely got a chance to go out to public places together and enjoy ourselves.

“You’re right, I’m not sorry but I don’t want you to be angry at me.” Shawn begins to climb out the pool and walk over to me, leaving a trail of water behind him.

“I’m not Shawn, it was fine, I had fun.” I grin at him and he looks at me, deciding whether he believes me or not.

“Okay.” He says, returning the smile.

“Just watch your back.” I smirk at him, and he tilts his head, biting his lip and edging closer to me.

“What’s the worst you could do?” He asks sarcastically, pulling me into his body that’s still covered in moisture.

“Shawn you’re getting my towel wet.” I giggle, reaching behind me to grab his towel off the chair. I press the cloth onto his chest, meeting his dark eyes. “Dry off.” “Do it for me?” He says lowly, and I feel my cheeks heat at the implied meaning. Slowly I began to rub the towel over his chest, down his arms and around to dry his back.

“I hope you’re not getting any ideas.” I murmur, moving the towel to dry his hair. He bends his neck lower so I can reach.

“Oh don’t worry, I am.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes, hanging the towel around his neck and letting go to hold his face close to mine.

“Good, ‘cos so am I.” I let go, turning away to grab the key card and leaving him standing there stunned. I reach the door, realizing he wasn’t behind me.

“You coming?” I ask, calling back to him. He shakes his head, almost like he was clearing a thought out of his head before he grabs his clothes and follows after me.

 I awake the next morning by the sun shining through our half open hotel blinds. I groan, reaching out for my phone on the night stand. 7:48. I turn, laying on my back, opening up twitter on my phone.

I let it load, looking to the side to see Shawn’s back facing me and I smile, focusing back at my phone again. I gasp.

Shawn Mendes spotted with a mystery woman at the hotel’s pool.

Mendes found having some late night fun with a new girl.

Is this Shawn Mendes’ new girlfriend?

And so many more. I frown, scrolling through the new headlines from the fan accounts that I was following. All of them had posted something about Shawn and I.

I roll onto my side, poking Shawn in the back softly. He groans, moving onto his back.

“Shawn.” I whisper, hovering over him as I shove his shoulder enough to wake him up. He opens one eye sleepily and slowly he opens the other.

“Morning,” he hums, a rasp to his voice.

“Morning, look at this.” I hold my phone where he can see it and he squints at first before he looks at me, shocked.

“They took pictures of us while we were at the pool?” He asks, anger lacing his tone and he sits upright like I was.

“Yeah, but its okay Shawn. They had to know sooner or later.” I tell him, softly pressing his shoulders back down as he moves to get out of bed.

He sighs, grabbing my hand.

“I’m sorry it had to come out like this,” he kisses my knuckles softly.

“It’s really okay Shawn. As long as I have you, it doesn’t matter.” I smile at him and he gives me a grateful look.

He lifts his own phone from where it was plugged into charge and opens up twitter himself. I rest my head on his shoulder, watching as pictures and comments about us load onto the screen.

He kisses my forehead, flicking through his mentions.

“Guess our secret’s out, huh?”

[bangtanbae100]

Something’s Fishy (Jungkook x Reader) Part 4

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Fluff, angst in the future

Description:Your policy of ‘i don’t know, i don’t care’ certainly benefited as you were hired to manage the popular group BTS on a mysterious trip of utmost secrecy. Unfortunately, what you discovered on accident was too great to be ignored. But the boys needed your help to solve their predicament and save their beloved maknae. Will you stick by your worth and help them or be a snitch and tell the world a terrible secret?

I’m currently coping with the first day of period and do not know how I find the strength to post this. Plus I’m running out of JK’s gif so I have to hunt down for some. This part is pretty long but the two finally have some interactions!! Enjoy :)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6   Part 7   Part 8

Jungkook noticed you as you boarded the plane.

They had all been informed that the trip would be a private one, with the exception of a “tour guide”, according to Bang PD. He supposed it was needed, since none of them actually knew how to get around once they arrived. In the back of his mind, he thought it would’ve been a guy, with the preconception that a guy is less nosy and isn’t as interested in them as girls are. But you definitely raised his eyebrow as you breezed past them and immediately called dibs on the right side of the aisle, where nobody else was sitting. Choosing the window seat, you dumped the rest of your stuff – a small carrier and a backpack – on the next seat and picked up the bright red headphones slung across your neck to your ears. Never once did he see you try stealing glances in their direction, in which he was guilty of doing at the moment. It almost seemed as they were invisible to you.

‘Jungkook, you want the window seat or what?’

He turned to Hoseok, who had already stuffed away his suitcase. ‘Oh, it’s okay hyung. I’ll sit here,’ he pointed to the other seat, which is conveniently the one opposite of yours.

‘Hey, hyung. You talked to her just now, right?’ Taehyung faced backwards, gesturing towards you.

‘Hmm? Oh yeah. She said her name’s Y/N. She’s good at Hangul, though. Probably why PD-nim picked her,’ Hoseok replied, shuffling through his playlist

Taehyung observed you some more. ‘She looks scary. She didn’t even smile or anything when she came in.’

Jungkook braved a glance. You were staring out the window, wearing a stony look on your face. Your eyebrows were scrunched together in a way that made you seem as if you were internally angry.

‘She’s probably told to respect our privacy. She didn’t talk much, either,’ Hoseok quipped.

‘Kookie, should we go talk to her?’

He could smell trouble all over Taehyung’s suggestion, plus he felt oddly apprehensive to be the one to break the ice with you especially when your whole body language screams ‘KEEP AWAY!’ Thankfully, he was spared the trouble of making up an excuse when the seatbelt lights blinked on, accompanied by the pilot’s announcement that they would be shortly taking off.

It would be a long flight that would take around 7 hours. Each of them had their own rituals to kill off time. Namjoon would be plugged to his music, making new beats or writing lyrics. Yoongi would be dead to the world for about half the time, and when he wakes it would take him at least 15 minutes to come to his senses. If he was up to it, he would work on his music as well. Jin would try to get the younger ones to entertain him, which usually ends up in him being ignored. Taehyung is easily bored and would do everything from messing with Namjoon to playing games with Jungkook or Hoseok. Jimin would be comfortably laid back in his seat with a manga in hand while ignoring Taehyung’s attempt to get him to play. Hoseok would catch up with the dance videos he had to put on hold because of his busy schedule.

Jungkook however, was too nervous to play video games like he usually does. This trip was unlike other trips. His whole uncertain future depends on whether he would get better, and if he didn’t then this whole journey would be for nothing. His whole body was like a tightly strung wire, anxious and on-edge. Suddenly, he heard a familiar melody that wasn’t coming from the music Namjoon was blasting. He turned to his side and saw you humming the words to a song. Occasionally, you would sing a line or two, unaware you were being watched. Jungkook recognized it. It was a recent favorite. He unconsciously began humming in harmony, his foot tapping to the rhythm. Slowly, he began to relax back in his seat, though his eyes didn’t leave your face. He wasn’t sure how old you are, but he guessed that you were around his age, although you looked rather small curled up in the large seat. Your complexion was sun-kissed, understandable from the tropical climate of your hometown. Your hair was held up by a hairclip where he could see the odd strands escaping and sticking out like tiny black feathers. You weren’t wearing too much makeup either. Jungkook wondered if you were just lazy or more comfortable going au naturel.

All of a sudden, your head snapped towards his direction. Jungkook was so startled that his first reflex was to jerk his arms and smack Hoseok right on the head with his phone. The older yowled in pain at the unexpected assault. Jungkook was so flabbergasted, apologizing to his hyung for the accident while the others reacted with a mixture of confusion and amusement. In the fiasco, he noticed that you had left your seat and fleetingly thought you were in the restroom.

After a while, things calmed down, though Hoseok still muttered about the ridiculous attack he received put of nowhere. Jungkook was still burning with embarrassment when he felt a familiar nauseous sensation spreading from his gut. He groaned internally at the timing. Quickly, he gave a sweeping glance towards his hyungs. They were mercifully absorbed with their own stuff. He stood up and made his way to the restroom, trying his very hardest to appear upright on his feet. Once he was behind the partitioning door, he tugged at the restroom door handle to find it locked. His eyes widened at the realization that you were still inside. He gritted his teeth as he concentrated on not passing out, which was nearly impossible considering his throat was starting to close up and black spots danced before his eyes. Gasping, his hand reached for the tiny bottle of pills nestled inside his coat pocket. He was struggling to open it when the door was suddenly yanked open, making him lose his balance and pitched forward.

Straight onto your chest.

He heard you gave a startled gasp as you caught his sudden weight. His pills had slipped out his hands and now were scattered all over the restroom floor. Even in his state, he mentally kicked himself for being embarrassed twice before you in a row.

‘Hey, are you okay? You don’t look too good.’

You were trying to hold him up, almost on tiptoes from the sheer difference of your heights. You shook his shoulders repeatedly and heard you call his name over and over. He was too weak to respond but when he saw you trying to look for help, he quickly grabbed your arm. Just that simple action left him breathless and he slid down to the floor.

‘Don’t,’ he heaved. ‘Don’t tell the others.’

‘Then what do you want me to do? You look like you’re about to die!’ you replied exasperatedly.

By this time he was depending on sheer will to stay awake and breathing slowly through his mouth. ‘This might seem weird but,’ he paused as his head began to spun. ‘I need you to dunk my head in the water.’

There was an awkward silence as he imagined you trying to digest his instruction. Honestly, he didn’t think he would be awake for much longer if you started to ask questions. To his surprise, he sensed you quickly acting. You plugged in the sinkhole and turned on the faucet full blast. Then, you pulled him up by the armpit and steadied him by the sink. The water glistened before Jungkook’s eyes, almost inviting.

‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ you muttered, then bend his body and submerged his head in the water.

The change was immediate. Jungkook gasped as his pain receded and his airway cleared. The cold water seemed to buzz his every nerve, making him hyperaware of his surroundings. He could see the murky surface of the sink where his nose almost touched. He could feel your hand holding the nape of his neck and the nervous energy you gave out was almost tangible. He closed his eyes and wished he could stay under forever when he felt his coat being yanked harshly. He sputtered as he broke contact with the water and coughed violently. You smacked him on the back repeatedly until he managed to regain composure.

‘I thought you died. You must have been there for almost three minutes but I could still feel you breathing,’

Jungkook didn’t bother to comment and you didn’t press him too. Instead, you began picking up his precious pills and washed them under the water before putting them back into the bottle and handing it over to him.

‘This is all that I think is still edible anyway. How are you feeling? Better?’

Jungkook tentatively took his medicine and nodded. ‘You…you won’t tell my hyungs about it, will you?’

You stuffed your hands into your pocket. ‘Why should I? I’m not your doctor. Although, your method of treatment is pretty…unconventional. You don’t go around dunking you head in water fountains, do you?’

Jungkook chuckled as the mental picture flashed through his mind. ‘No, it’s not that severe. Not yet anyway.’

You nodded. ‘Well, I’ll go back to my seat. You go in later so the others won’t get suspicious.’

Jungkook hummed in agreement and watched you disappear back inside. He stared at his pills and wondered why you didn’t ask anything about his condition. His stomach churned with dread.

You couldn’t have known…could you?

[falling-pages]

Peter Parker’s Voices

This is a little chapter from my spider-man fanfiction, Stuck With You. If you enjoy this chapter, go ahead and check it out (I am falling_pages on wattpad)! I’m so sorry for what I am about to do to this cinnamon roll because there’s a lot of pain in this.

Chapter 4: The Voices (Peter’s POV)

Good job, Parker, you blew it. You had the chance to ask her out and you messed it all up.

I know the voice isn’t real, but it screeches in my head louder than any other thought. I could never escape it, though I tried: soundproof headphones, blasting music, even dunking my head in a bucket of water. Nothing worked. If I couldn’t drown myself, I needed to drown the voices. But the bad thing about voices is that they can’t be silenced. While I plugged my nose and held my breath and listened to my heart pump blood, ice-cold in the water, I wondered if those voices could swim faster than I. I never wanted to find out.

Maybe I shouldn’t hate them. For what it’s worth, they had saved my life many times. Taught me how to use my powers, even. Post-spider bite, when I was curled onto my bed, clutching my sheets and vomiting into a trash can because I was too weak to get to a toilet, those voices were there. They sang to me of what had happened and told me what I was, now. I nestled into their arms and relaxed as they waxed eloquent about all the prophecies, the laws of nature, what a special child I was and the responsibility I now carried. As my breathing slowed and eyes closed, I fell into an embrace of shifting sands. They repeated my abilities until they were burned into my brain. I knew what my mission was long before Tony Stark entered my home. 

Swaddled in pain and surrounded by darkness, alone and vulnerable, I made friends with the voices inside my head. 

At first, they were friendly. Part of my spider-sense, they told me when to jump or duck or flip just in time to avoid getting hurt. I always relied on my other spider-senses first--the lightheadedness, arm hair standing up, a tick in my neck, an itch in my stomach--just in case the voices were wrong. They never were.

When I was about to fling myself off a building to test my powers, they suggested I jump off a bench first, just to test the strength of my webs with minimal bodily damage. The left, right, left, thrust-and-pull pattern of my swinging? All choreographed by the voices, playing against my eyelids as I lay in bed, tapping the rhythm against my thigh.

The night I got bitten, when I was crying from the pain and soaked in feverish sweat, the voices wiped my face and told me about all the grand things I’d see, the power after the pain, how the world was one big shiny crown passed from one victor to another, and now was my time to wear it.

I’ve seen the world, and there is nothing grand or shiny about it. There are beautiful moments, like butterflies landing on flowers, the satisfaction of a perfectly done equation, and Izzy’s smile. But more often I came face-to-face with the scum of the earth, staring evil in the eyes while squashing it under my palm. Watching Uncle Ben die was a stark reminder. In my nightmares, everything I held dear would disintegrate like dust and fly off. And nowadays, my nightmares seemed more like realities.

I rake my fingers through my hair, squeezing my eyes shut as I walk, trusting my spider-sense to keep me from walking into a pole. Those tacos churn in my stomach, getting worse after I pass a dumpster. I pause, letting everything shift back to normal. When I take a step, my heart leaps into my throat, battling the voices getting louder and louder.

What a loser. Why would Mr. Stark choose you?

You’ve been given all this power, and what do you do? Help old people cross the street and rescue cats from trees when there are robbers and murderers on the loose?

What makes you think you can be an Avenger when you can’t even ask out the girl you like?

I dig my nails into my palms, crushing my eyelids even more closed. Why me? Why can’t I keep my sanity?

Cars whizz by, telling me I’m nearing the heart of Queens. Their honks battle with the voices, a shouting match with no winner, my brain the arena, with me as the lone spectator. 

I careen to the left, needing to get out, somewhere quiet, clean, isolated--

STOP

A voice louder than the others screams at me as something like white lightning strikes the inside of the eyelids. I lurch to a stop, feeling a rush of wind a few inches from my face. My heart stops as I wrench open my eyes to see a van fly by and stop less than a foot away.

Fire consumes my whole body. One more step, and that car would have hit me.

The driver gets out, but I turn away and run as fast as I can. It doesn’t matter where; I trust my feet and my sense. It saved my ass back there.

But as soon as I take a step, the voices return.

Worthless freak.

You should have let that car hit you, Parker. You’ll do more for the people dead than you are doing right now alive. Everyone knows that martyrs get more glory than living heroes.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, my chest heaving as I run. My throat closes, and I feel like I’m breathing in air through a cloth. Choking, suffocating, burning.

If I can’t run, I can swing.

Making sure no one’s around, I extend my right arm and flick a web into the air. It catches on a lamp post, then the next one wraps around a window sill. Over and over again, flick, twist, thrust, flick, welcoming the burn in my biceps as I pull myself up. Swinging demands all my concentration, so I can’t focus on the voices. Thankfully, one helps me out.

Left, right, left. Thrust. Pull. Extend. Remember who you are, Peter. Remember Spider-Man. 

[thepdvblog]

FBMH II - Cura and Cure

From the Bottom of My Heart Masterpost

Summary: Annabelle can't focus on class today, and she's fully aware that's not how things usually are, except she can't exactly tell why she's like that. At least, that's until Magda helps her realizing why, and then Christian indirectly helps her to realize exactly why things are that way, by simply encouraging her to make a visit.

Length: 2.4K words

AO3 version

Annabelle is quite out of it today. Usually, she is fascinated by the Ancient French class, comparing it with how French is currently getting spoken around her, how she speaks it, the list of uses goes on. However, her mind cannot find a way to focus on what their teacher is currently speaking about, and she struggles to keep up with it. This does not feel right, and the way Magda and Louise are looking at her from the neighbouring row of chairs and tables make her acutely aware of this.

A piece of paper lands on her table, coming from the left. It must had been Magda, and when she looks at her khâgne godmother, she sees a small smile on her lips, the one she used to give when she doubted herself last year. Her eyes then go back to the class, as Annabelle should be doing. She opens the paper and read what is written on it.

“It’s bcs he not here, no?”

Who is “he”? Magda seems to be oddly vague about the whole ordeal. She still glances at a table at the other side of the classroom, next to the wall and the door, only to notice an empty seat. Oh, so this is the “he” she was referring to earlier… Annabelle can only put this as an explanation of her difficulty to focus on anything today.

She sighs softly to herself, head resting on her hand, as she wonders what could have possibly happened to him. She hopes it’s not much. It’s not his kind to skip class, so something must had happened for him to be stuck outside of their classroom.

When it finally rings off, Annabelle exits the room. As soon as she spots him in the forum space, she walks up to Christian, a friend of her brother’s, but mostly a friend of Florian. He must know where his comrade is, right? Or at least he has an idea of so. When she tells him hello, Christian is surprised. They never spoke to each other directly yet, only when Florian was there. He still greets her back.

“Let me guess, you want to know why Flo wasn’t in class today?” he asks her, smirking.

“Is it this obvious? Oh my…” she replies, feeling a bit guilty of being such, such an opportunist.

“You weren’t as focused as usual, so I guessed you were worried for him. He hasn’t told us anything yet, but I’m sure he’s just sick and forgot to plug in his phone.”

His smirk turns into a grin. He whistles as his eyes look away.

“I’m sure a little visit wouldn’t hurt him, though… What about you check up on him? I have to attend class at Sorbonne this afternoon.”

Her face lights up with surprise. This offer is too attractive for her to resist the urge to accept, especially since she doesn’t have any class for the day… But is it right for her to do so? She doesn’t even know where Florian lives…

“You look like you’re hesitating, am I wrong?”

“I-it’s not that, but… I don’t know where he lives…”

“It’s just that? Let me send you his address. Don’t forget to bring him some soup!”

Walking down the street, going back to her flat, Annabelle receives a text message from Christian, containing the address he said to give her. The young lady clutches the phone next to her chest, already thinking about what she needs to bring with her.

Soup will take her too much time to make on her own, she’ll buy some at the nearest shop. Maybe he’s running low on medicine, she should make a small trip to the pharmacy and buy some fever reducers and cough drops. Oh, she should bring some tissues with her too. Man, so many things he needs, and so many things she’ll gladly pay for.

Now that she is in front of the door indicated on her phone, the small student feels shy and almost scared. It makes her nervous to knock at his door when he doesn’t know she got her hand on his address. She also doesn’t want to wake him up, if he’s asleep. A sigh escapes her glossed lips as she lays back to the door, looking at the ceiling, her hand firmly holding her small basket.

Her ears twitch when she hears coughing inside. Her hand knocks on the wooden surface before she can think about it. Now facing the door, she anxiously waits for something. Her nose transforms into a leaking air balloon.

The coughing gets louder and louder until the knock starts to shake. Wood gives the spotlight to blue fabric, buttons, body hair, then a familiar face. It’s him, obviously, dressed in a badly ironed pyjama and covered in a blanket.

“…Anna… Annabelle…?” a hoarse voice calls for, a rather strong congestion and sounding like there’s an accent that shouldn’t be in there.

Her heart hurts.

“H-hello…,” it’s as if her voice has dried by the second, “it’s indeed me… Do I disturb you?”

Florian, under the flush of what she can only guess is a fever, makes her a small smirk.

“I’m very happy you came to visit me,” he coughs, “but that’s not the day to do so…”

“You have gotten this wrong!”

A scoff escaped his mouth as his face got covered in a pained amusement.

“You’re kidding me, right…? I look like crap, I sound like crap, my flat is a mess and…”

“You are ill, and when someone is ill, someone else has to take care of them. And I will be the one to do so for you, even if you refuse me.”

Her friend’s eyes looked on the side, his cheeks reddened, and eventually, he just sighed.

“I can’t possibly say not to such solicitude… Please enter… I’m sorry, the place is a mess, I haven’t had the energy to clean lately…”

Annabelle, who has been crossing her fingers behind her back, steps inside the flat. She can see it is indeed pretty disorganized, with books and some other items on the floor of his one-room flat. Meanwhile, Florian just staggers in front of her, only to collapse on his bed, head crashing first while his coughing echoes in the entire room.

“My, my, Florian, you sound like you came down with a terrible illness…” slips out of her mouth as she rushed to him.

“Do I…? Guessed so… Everybody looked at me like I was about to die when I went to the doctor…” he croaks out as he laid properly in bed. “Please forgive my unformal look… I didn’t plan on getting a visit today…”

Annabelle didn’t say anything. Instead, she lowered herself to the bed, took her own temperature with the back of her hand, then laid it on his forehead. After barely touching it, she took it off, shaking her wrist, accompanied by a small hiss.

“You’re running such a fever…!”

“Come on, it’s not that bad… I think it’s around thirty-eight…? I can’t remember when I t-”

Before he could keep on, she had already put a thermometer in his mouth. His eyes, which had tried to be stern until then, just rolled slightly and he simply took it in and let it go.

“Thirty-nine point six… This is pretty high if you ask me…” she muses as she reads the numbers on the small stick.

“Agreed… I just blanked out there…”

“This does not sound like you to say so, Florian. It is almost as if you are… someone else…”

He looks away, bits his lip, scratches his beard.

“To be entirely honest with you, Annabelle… I’m not in the right state of mind to look fancy…”

“Does it mean you’re… usually playing a role…?”

“No, I’m just trying harder than that… If you don’t mind, can we have this talk later…?”

“Sure thing. You look like you need some care and not some deep conversation.”

After a quick blink, the little woman rushed to the tiny bathroom of the flat, grabbed a bucket, filled it with water and fetched the first cloth she had under her hand. She then proceeded to dunk it inside and wipe the sweat off his face.

“Wait, is that… your handkerchief…?” he coughed out.

“It is not a problem, before you ask… Maybe you should change clothes if you feel up to it. You look like you are sweating a lot.”

“You… don’t mind doing all of this…?”

Annabelle blinks before a light-hearted laugh escapes her mouth.

“Of course, I do not, silly! I was worried for you, it makes me feel better to be able to do something… You look like you needed some help and care anyway…”

His face lights up a little, to the point colour may be coming back there to counter the red of fever.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this… but I’m truly grateful…”

“Do not mention it. I am just doing what I think is right.”

She eventually flats out her handkerchief on his forehead, intrigued by a small piece of paper she noticed when she first entered in his flat. She reads it, notices his healthcare card right next to it, deciphers the cryptic writing.

“Florian,” she asks, “did you get the medicine your doctor told you to get?”

“I didn’t… I fainted before I could grab my credit card…”

A wet, violent coughing fit hurts her so strongly she clutches her own chest, right where her beats are getting out of control.

“You still need it. I am borrowing this,” she says as she shows him his own card, “and the paper. I will be back in a bit.”

Annabelle gathers her coat and purse when she notices her classmate’s hand reaching out for her.

“I’ll go… Let me just… gather myself over there…”

Before he can step more than a foot outside of his bed, she rushed out to him, grab his shoulders and gently puts him down back to bed.

“Are you insane, Florian? You are in no condition to get up at the moment… Let me do this for you, okay?”

“You’re not gonna pay for that… I’m weary about my credit card code…”

“Oh, come on! I can do this for you! And if you want to repay me so badly, you can do so when you’re feeling better, is it right?”

He simply nods back.

“Deal…”

She passes a hand through his hair, kisses the top of his head and waves him a “I will be back soon” look as she grabs the key and closes the door behind her.

As soon as she’s out of view, Annabelle hides her face in her hands, feeling all of her blood reaching out to her head. She can barely believe she just did that without realizing it! It’s something she would do out of sheer affection, to her brother when they were younger, then to her ex-boyfriend… It doesn’t have the platonic resonance it used to anymore, it’s become something else over time.

She can only hope Florian was too dizzy to realize how unpolite and intimate the gesture was. Still, she doesn’t have much time to lose to her clumsiness: she has medicine to buy.

As the pharmacist she usually goes to is maybe the gentlest man she’s met (after Florian, that is), the literature student enters the same pharmacy as before, clutching the paper in her gloved hands, her purse firmly clutched in her armpit. Today is chilly outside, but so, so warm inside.

Her small boots clack and clack to the desk, where the white-coated man smiles at her with his ice blue eyes and his dimple in his left cheek. He’s as lovely as he ever is.

“Hello again…” she says, unable to retain a smile.

“Hello again, Ms Baudelas! What can I do for you this time around?”

“I am here to get my friend’s medicine… Here you go…” She puts the bill on the counter. “Thank you very much, once again.”

“I will take care of it.”

He reads the contents of the small piece of paper with the help of a pair of reading glasses.

“Hmm… One preparation of Tamiflu, three doses per day, for Florian Moinot…” he muses to himself. “Do you have his healthcare card?”

Annabelle gets it from the chest pocket on her overcoat, “here you go.”

He scans it and goes through a door in the back of the shop, whose sign reads “Staff only”.

When he comes back, a couple of minutes later, he has a small plastic bag in his hand, which he then hands to her. A payment with her credit card later, she can’t help but notice her pharmacist seems… puzzled.

“Is something wrong, doctor?” she asks, feeling her worry intensify.

“No, I was just wondering about something… When you came to buy some medicine earlier, was it for this man too? If you do not mind telling me, obviously.”

“It was…”

“You are a wonderful friend, Ms Baudelas. I am sure he is very grateful for you.”

When she comes back to his flat, Annabelle finds her classmate sound asleep in bed, an half-opened book on the ground right next to his hanging arm. A soft smile installs itself on her lips as she takes off her shoes, tip-toes to his bed and lays the blanket over him, retrieving his arm under it as well. She also picks up the book and puts it properly on his nightstand, right next to his lamp.

From her purse, Annabelle grabs a piece of paper and writes on the back of it the instruction the pharmacists gave her about the medicine, until her hand slips and she writes down a small word to him.

“Dear Florian,

I wish you a safe and sound recovery. Please take care and do not overdo it, at least not until you are all recovered. The better you take care of yourself, the sooner you will be back in the swift of things. If you ever need help, do not hesitate to send a small message to either me or any of our friends, okay? Do not stress over me having paid for the medicine.

I also left you some homemade soup and an Egyptian fairy tale book in case you are in a dire need to read something easy and lovely.

With love,

Annabelle.”

As she exits the flat, trying to make as little noise as possible, Annabelle feels a lump of warmth and bliss rise in her chest. It never felt so right to take care of someone. Her heart finally beats at a normal speed as she cannot help but realize it.

She never thought she would be back in such feelings so soon.