#I woke up with my forehead COVERED in acne

[moddytheblog]

out of the headaches, body pain, fever, nausea, etc., I think my LEAST favorite symptom of herxing I've experienced so far is the sheer volume of acne on my body rn

[studywgabi]

My Morning Routine with Body Dysmorphic Disorder

From the ages of 12 to 16, I spent 4 hours getting ready for school every weekday morning. First period started at 7:35 A.M., I woke up at 3:40 and usually arrived to class around 7:55 with an apologetic smile and a late pass. I said it was car trouble, or that my alarm hadn't gone off.

I spent the first hour-and-a-half of my day plucking my eyebrows, my temples, and my forehead up to my hairline, sitting side saddle on the sink and twisting around towards the mirror when I got tired of standing. I shaved the rest of the face from the eyes down: my cheeks, my sideburns, mustache, beard, and nose, my neck, and my ears with just water, no shaving cream. Then I spent another hour-and-a-half in the shower, turning the water on to rinse my razor and off again to shave repeatedly to try and stretch the heat as long as possible. I covered my entire body with shaving cream, painting myself white. I started with my stomach, then my breasts, my sternum, my nipples, then my sides, my underarms, my back as far up as I could reach and then my shoulders as far down, though I always missed a strip of skin above my waist. My hairline on the back of my neck, so nothing could stand up, even if I was scared. Then my arms, my hands, my knuckles, I wasn't very careful and I gave myself a few scars. Next my legs, feet, toes and pubic hair. When the water ran ice cold, I would turn it off, get out, and set up my makeup table while I waited for it to warm up again. I got back in, nicked myself a few more times, then washed my hair and body and used my prescription acne cleanser. My parents bought men's razors in bulk because I needed a new one every day. My clean skin only lasted a couple of hours, then turned into 11:00 A.M. shadow.

The next hour was makeup: sunscreen, moisturizer, primer, foundation, concealer, bronzer, contour, setting powder, blush, chapstick, lip liner, lipstick, eyebrow pencil, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. I wasn't very good at it; it always came out cakey or racoony. I listened to music, mostly Taylor Swift or Avril Lavigne, sometimes showtunes, while I worked. Then I brushed my hair, adding some brown eyeshadow to the bald spots to make it look fuller, got dressed in my school uniform, and packed up my lunch and books in a rush. No time for breakfast and I had the early lunch period at 10:35 anyway. I'm a girly-girl. I think I would have loved makeup the way I love fashion. I think it would have been fun to experiment with new colors, new styles, new brands, my favorite actresses' recommendations.

If I didn't do this, I couldn't leave my house. So I had the flu a lot. And I never went out on weekends. My one goal in life was beauty, or getting as close to it as someone like me could. It took up everything: my time, my energy, my focus. For the rest of the day, when I wasn't grooming, I was thinking about it.

Two years later, I don't do it anymore, but I miss it. If felt so good. It was so satisfying to destroy all those little parts of myself over and over again every day. I looked forward to it. I enjoyed the routine of it; it was so familiar to me. Mondays were my favorite, when I could free myself of all the evil that had built up over the weekend. I can't stand to touch my skin now and have to remember how smooth it used to be. I've scratched myself bloody trying to find some relief.

There have been setbacks. I snuck my mother's tweezers into the bathroom a couple of times, or she left her razor lying around after she thought I'd gotten over it. If I grow my nails out long enough, I can use them. I've tried other methods- new snake oil miracle razors, every depilatory cream, waxing, threading, bleaching, free consultations for expensive laser and electrolysis.

All the adults in my life were so happy and proud of me when I stopped. I don't feel I've made any "progress" as they define it. I don't perform those behaviors anymore, but I feel even worse. I hate myself even more, I feel trapped inside my own skin. I'm not any more loved or accepted now than I was then, which was all that mattered to me.

They have no idea what it is to be hideous. They could never, ever understand what it's like to have to exist in this world in this body. To have to live with yourself and sleep at night knowing what you are. To never be a woman, to never be young, to be inhuman, your own vile, repulsive species, something completely separate than everyone around you that should be kept locked in a cage away from society. Something that should be put down for it's own good. To be some kind of animal, or beast, to be born a monster. To want to gouge your own eyes out so you never have to see yourself, to want to die because you aren't strong enough to live this way. To know that you'll spend every last moment of your whole life alone.

It was so difficult for me to accept my BDD diagnosis. I guess I still haven't. I don't "fixate on my perceived flaws," other people do. I do my best to correct my very much real flaws so that other people don't have to look at them. I didn't come up with this on my own, I didn't choose to be ill, if that's what I am, and I sure as hell didn't choose this body. I don't want to look like this, I don't want to upset people with my appearance, I don't want it to be necessary for me to do all this to fix myself, but it's just what I have to do. I accepted that, and I couldn't understand why no one else did.

Is there someone who could prove me wrong? Is there someone who could wait for me, not mind that I'm late to everything, that I always cancel plans at the last minute? Is there someone who wouldn't mind that I'm a crybaby, that I'm too particular and too sensitive? Is there someone who wouldn't mind me? There wasn't then and there isn't now and I don't think there's going to be. And as hard as I try, I can't stop needing there to be, and I can't be that person for myself.

[galactic-magick]

Hi!!! I absolutely love your work. You're truly talented!! Also, I have a request.

// vomit/emetophobia

I'm not sure if this is something you feel comfortable writing about, but I have a severe phobia of vomit. Is there any way you could write hurt/comfort fluff with 001? Like, him comforting the reader through nausea and being sick?

If not, I totally understand!! Maybe you could just write reader having a fever if you're not comfortable with it :]

Anyways, I look forward to what you write in the future!!

Hey! You're in luck anon cuz I've been on some new antibiotics from my dermatologist for my severe acne and they make me nauseous a lot 🤪 so it is not hard at all for me to imagine needing comfort from feeling sick rn haha.

I decided to make this about being sick in general though and not just nausea, hope that's alright and hope you enjoy!

Peter can almost immediately sense something is wrong

you've been acting off since you woke up, the life sucked from your face and your movements more sluggish

thankfully neither of you had anywhere to be today, but still, you're not usually like this even on days off

he notices you haven't eaten your breakfast, and you usually always do when he makes things for you

"What's wrong, darling?" he asks.

"I just feel really...weird today," you mumble. "Like everything hurts. And I'm super nauseous, and I'm afraid to eat because I might throw up,"

"Oh, hun," he takes your chin between his fingers. "Don't worry, you won't on my watch. I'll take care of you,"

he gets you something to eat that's a little more bland so it won't upset your stomach, and a cup of your favorite tea

he then pulls you to the couch and holds you, covered in the softest blanket you own

"I hate feeling like shit," you groan, a single tear falling down your cheek from what feels like your entire body failing you.

"Where's your pain besides the nausea?"

"I have an awful headache too, and just general aches all over," you reply.

"I could fix that,"

"Peter, no-" you shake your head. You hate when he uses his powers for silly little things like this. Sure, he's powerful and can handle it, but you still try not to ask him for anything.

"Darling, please, let me take away at least some of your pain,"

"Okay," you sigh.

he rests his hand on your forehead, and you feel the tension and pain start to release. you're not really sure exactly what he's doing to make the pain go away, but you don't question it

maybe he's using his psychokinesis to literally block your pain receptors or something, who knows, but you're happy you didn't stop him

"Better?"

your head clears and now all that's left is a bit of the nausea and your body feeling a little weak, but you'll take that over also having a throbbing headache

"Yeah," you smile. "Better,"

he continues taking care of you all day, assuring you it's okay to just relax and let yourself heal

you feel like you have to be doing something, even just house chores or running some errands but he insists he will take care of anything you need

gradually the nausea starts to subside and you're able to eat more, giving you some more energy

he gives you even more cuddles than usual and he doesn't care that being so close to you might make him sick too

if any of your aches come back he doesn't hesitate to take them away, he can't stand seeing you in more pain than you have to be in

if you're still feeling unwell the next day too he'd definitely stay with you again, doesn't matter if he has other things going on, he'll take the day off

[murderslugs]

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Reader - Part 3 - Final

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This one made me cringe lol- Also, there's sorta a sensitive part of the story so beware.

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

Today is the day, Y/N thought to herself. She pressed her hand against the wall of her hallway, slowly moving her hand across it as she walked towards the living room. It was in the middle of the night, around 3AM, where Michael would be asleep by now. Perfect time to finally see that face for more than 5 seconds... At that thought, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she wondered how Michael doesn't have terrible acne due to wearing that mask all the time.

Shaking that thought from her head, she finally entered the living room and saw a sleeping psychopath on her couch with his arms wrapped around a pillow and a large cover over him. The pillow he hugged always covered his face, hence why Y/N wasn't able to see his face in his sleep either. And because he always hides his mask when he sleeps as well, so Y/N can't just take it from him. And Michael's a light sleeper anyway, so he's catch her before she gets the chance to hide it.

But this time, Y/N had a plan. Michael sometimes goes out for a kill and she never knows. So when he comes home at 3AM and knocks on the door really loud, it scares the fuck outta her. In order to prevent that, she bought a camera that has night vision that connects to her computer. But she might as well test it out in living room, wink wink. And hey! She can find where he keeps his mask so Y/N doesn't have to look around for hours. All she needs to know is the general vicinity to find it. It was set up earlier, so all Y/N would have to do it wake him up so he goes to get his mask.

She smirked mischievously as she tiptoed over to the couch, hovering over him. He was lightly snoring peacefully, relaxed (not for long-). Y/N slowly gripped the sides of the pillow he was hugging, very delicately pulling it away from him. As soon as he started to stir in his sleep, she ripped it out of his arms and giggled as he shot his arms up over his face. "Aww, good morning, honey!" She giggled; Y/N could basically feel the anger radiating off of him, which was her que to ruN THE FUCK AWAY.

Right after saying good morning, she darted towards her room as fast as humanly possible. Rather than chasing her, Michael just hissed and stood up to grab his mask from in between the couch cushions. Sliding it on, he groggily went his way towards Y/N's room to probably scare her or something. I don't know, he was acting out in the moment.

Y/N could hear his slow footsteps faintly as he got closer to her door. She went under her bed to "hide from him" so it doesn't seem suspicious that she's just calm and all that. Yeah, poor reasoning but sTiLL. Anyway, Y/N giggled under her breath as he opened her bedroom door, walking inside her room and looking around. She could faintly hear him sigh as he went close to her bed, then turned his body so he could see under the bed. Y/N jolted backwards so she wouldn't get caught however Michael grabbed her arm strongly but gently. Y/N laughed as she was pulled out from under the bed.

"Michael, Michael, honey! I thought you were asleep or something!" She spoke innocently. She could just feel Michael's half lidded "shut the fuck up" stare. Y/N opened her mouth to speak again, but suddenly there was a loud knock on her door. I mean loud as in they were trying to break it. Y/N jumped, yelling, "what the hell!" Michael let go of her, watching as she raced towards her the kitchen to grab a knife. But as soon as she grabbed one, she heard someone yell.

"Police, open up!" Y/N's heart fucking dropped. Her lips quivered and her eyes widened with fear. Michael's image was the only thing she could think of as she opened the door, seeing a couple of large men in suits with guns and whatnot. One of them was holding a large black objects used to break down doors. Another was holding a piece of paper towards Y/N, speaking in a rough voice, "Y/N L/N! The FBI has a warrant to search your house for the wanted criminal Michael Myers. If we find any trace of him, you'll be under arrest for harboring a fugitive. For now, you'll be detained and questioned, not arrested. If it seems that your innocent, then you should remain calm and you shall have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, feel free to speak up now."

At the end of his speech, he put the paper away as a dozen of FBI agents bust into Y/N house, running across into ever room and searching for both Michael and evidence of him being here. At the sight of seeing all of this and the feeling of that officer grabbing her arms roughly and detaining them with cuffs, Y/N began to cry. Her legs became shaky and could barely support her weight. "What...What are you guys talking about?" She breathed out fearfully.

One of the FBI Agents came across an office room with a computer in it. The computer screen showed the living room as it is with agents breaking things and yelling. The agent hummed, messing with the keyboard and mouse a bit in order to see the earliest footage. It was of Y/N still setting up the camera and when she left the view of it, we can assume she went to bed. Hours later, a large and tall man was seen heading towards the couch, pulling off his mask and hiding it, then going to sleep.

"Muh-Michael is a...a..." Y/N breathed heavily, her back against the wall and an agent crouching on front of her. Of course, Y/N already knew this but at least she can get off with "not knowing."

"That's right. He's a murderer of many, including his older sister," the agent, who has Danyel written on his tag, replied. Two other agents went up to Dabyel, one of them addressing something.

"There's not a single thing of evidence of him, nor his clothing or anything. However I found camera footage of him being inside the house, sleeping on the couch in here. This woman clearly had a good relationship with him since she woke him up before we came here." Danyel responded to him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention. So Michael just left me, she thought. No, he had to leave so we both didn't get hurt! But it still hurts a little.

"Well, the good news is you didn't lie about not knowing him," Danyel laughed, grabbing Y/N's arm roughly and pulling her up. "Eh, sorry," he apologized when Y/N whenced at his grip. He started to walk her out of her extremely noisy home and to the outdoors, where she felt an amazing relief wash over. She sniffed, his breath quivering as some tears remained and more pouring out of her eyes.

"Michael was never bad to me," she spoke in a low voice, but still loud enough for Danyel to hear.

"Hmm." He walked Y/N up to his car, opening the back door to put Y/N in. She slid inside and was pushed away from the door and towards the middle of the seat. Then Danyel sat next to her, closing the door. Wait, she thought, this isn't normal. "Wanna tell me more about how he was?" He asked her, placing his hand on her cheek and using his thumb to wipe his tears. A shiver made it's way down her spine and her eyebrows furrowed together.

"He really is a nice guy. I can't comprehend he would do something so, so...evil," Y/N started, playing along. She really was hella upset about the reality of what murder really is; yes, she knew he was a killer but had never heard or seen any of it on the news or in person. And hey, if she didn't know the person, why would she care? But now in the situation where the hell that comes from murder is placed upon her so forcefully, she couldn't help but be slightly truthful when she spoke about how terrible she feels.

"My house was always open to people in need, and than I found him. He was knocking on doors, looking for a place to stay, and I let him in. He was so nice," Y/N sniffed, flinching her head back when Danyel tried to wipe away newer tears. "He was funny, loved the food I cooked and I finally had someone to talk to. No, he finally had someone to talk to. I could see so many signs of loneliness and hurt on him and I was finally curing it. Eventually, a few months in, I started to fall for him. Actually, I can't help but still love him.

"I know it's bad but he was the greatest friend, and roommate I could ever ask for. He never complained about anything either; heh heh, there was a time when he didn't have any clean clothes to change into so I had find something for him. All I had was a large baggy, blue hoodie and he it was a good look on him." Y/N chest ached as she finished her story, staring down at the car floor. Danyel hummed, a frown on his features.

Come to think of it, I never described Danyel very well. As mentioned before, he had a rough voice; it was serious and void of care. His demeanor matched it, too, as he showed no care for Y/N as she cried. Even when he wiped her tears, he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart, but for some other reason. His uniform was a blue business suit, unlike the other FBI agents, and it matched a serious demeanor well. His stone cold blue eyes remained on Y/N as she talked, and every once in a while he was push back his slicked back grey-blonde hair.

He was around 35 with youth in his eyes yet his forehead and eyes had wrinkles. His hair was turning grey already, probably from the heavy amounts of stress that comes with the job. He was quite tall, about 6'3 (190cm) and had broad shoulders and had a slim yet muscular build. He wasn't necessarily attractive or youthful looking, but not yet ready for unattractive or old. He always had a frown and half lidded eyes showing nothing but boredom for everything around him.

"That's very touching, Miss L/N," he spoke. Y/N looked up at him, sniffing. Danyel hummed sadly and slowly changed his face to a softer expression. "Well, you won't have to worry about it after today. In the meantime, is there anyone you can stay with for now?" Y/N's lip quivered as she shook her head. "No? You have no family, no other friends? Surely a parent or sibling would help you on a time of need, regardless of your relationship." Y/N shook her head again. She doesn't really like to talk about it.

"I don't have anyone, sir, I really don't. I don't...I don't want to talk about it but I can't see my mom! I don't have any siblings or dad, but she's not a recommendation," she reassured, her heart speeding up at the mere thought of her mom. Danyel noticed this and raised a brow.

"In that case, you will stay at my place. Of course I'm putting my life on the line that way so expect some serious restrictions." Danyel spoke, a smirk almost appearing from the corners of his lips. Y/N felt a chill go up her spine and shook. "That means in case you attempt to escape, I'll be locking your room at night. Don't think I won't go further to ensure you don't attack me in my sleep. You won't be allowed to go outside at all ever. No one is allowed to visit. You'll be able to get food whenever you wish, as well. Roam to your heart's content, but please keep silent at night."

Y/N nodded in understanding but at the same time, she felt way more uneasy than she did when he suggested it. After all he never asked if she wanted to stay with him. No, he told her she would. And his rules seem way too restricting and very unprofessional for someone in the line of service. Y/N is nearly 65% of the size of him, so how the hell is she supposed to "murder him in his sleep?" He could literally just kick her if she ever tried. Lastly, it's almost like he really wanted this.

"Now that's settled, we should be heading towards the police station for questioning. If you're innocent and knew nothing of his history, you have nothing to fear so please be honest and put up no fight. May the lord have mercy on your beautiful soul."

~~~~~~

"This will be your room, Miss L/N," Danyel said as he opened a door. Inside was a small bed that was made, a dresser that was somewhat dusty besides it, and a single lap besides it. He walked up to the dresser and set down a suitcase that Y/N had packed after questioning at the police station. She had to get it searched twice in case something were to happen, which was hella annoying for her. "Please do make yourself at home. I'll cook something tonight."

Y/N nodded her head, very uneasy as the thought of staying at some strangers house. She sighed when he stepped out of her new room and she shut the door after him. She shivered, rubbing her eyes before tears well up. "I miss Michael," she whimpered silently to herself. She pushed her hair out of her face as a shaky breath came out of her mouth. Turning towards her suitcase, she walked towards it and unzipped it. She began to pull things out and pet them away in a respective place in the dresser.

"Hmm... Where's my hoodie?" Y/N mumbled to herself under her breath. She made sure to bring a certain blue hoodie with her, but she can't find it. As she scanned through it more, she noticed a few other articles of clothing was missing. "Um, alright, that's creepy," Y/N said out loud. What the hell did Danyel do? When she finished putting her clothes away, she pulled out comfortable pajamas of F/C and S/F/C. Right afterwards, she walked out of her room.

"I'm done," she called out as she walked into the kitchen. Danyel was wearing normal clothes now, no longer a suit and tie, and he was moving around something in a pan. It smelt a lot of breakfast in the kitchen, so it was probably eggs.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it here Y/N. You'll be staying for a while, heh heh," he chuckled as he turned off the stove. "I don't know if you like breakfast for dinner, but I made eggs and pancakes for us." Y/N smiled, sitting down at the table.

"It smells very nice, thanks," she answered. "I must have been in my room longer than I thought."

"You must have been. I had to go look inside to make sure you weren't sleeping, heh."

Y/N's smile dropped when she looked away from him. He was making plates at the moment, too distracted to see Y/N's look of discomfort. Maybe I'm just paranoid, she thought to herself, but he's so weird. As Danyel passed a plate in front of her and one for himself across the table, the room became filled with an awkward silence aside from the side of the a fork clinging against the plates. Y/N poked around at her food, a bit too unnerved from today to eat well. "You know, you shouldn't play with you food."

"I know, I know, sorry. It's just..." she drifted off before getting it back together. "I miss Michael. This is all so weird." Danyel frowned, picking up a few eggs and eating them before replying.

"I see. But you know, this is very essential for your well being. After all Michael is described as pure evil. If he truly cared for you, he would come here to save you and the task force will be here to protect you. If you wanted to go back to kill you because you know too much, the task force will be here to save you. I understand this sounds like I'm using you to lure him in however I am not. You're a very beautiful and intelligent girl who has a heart in the right place; as seen when you choose to let a homeless mute guy with a mask in your house.

"It would be quite a shame for someone like you to be void of life. After all, I'm sure you're a very fun woman and it would be nice for you to stick around with me for now. As you can see I'm without a family so it'd be nice to have some company." As Danyel finished talking, Y/N nodded in understanding. By now she had already finished her food as she kinda just wanted to go to sleep as fast as possible.

Y/N stood up and brought her plate to the think. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. I'm probably gonna go to sleep now, okay? Have a nice night," she said as she smiled at him. Danyel stared at her as she walked away and mumbled goodnight to her. Y/N walked into her new bedroom and looked around. It's depressing to not be in her own home, especially at a stranger's house. But she knew she'd see Michael soon, right? As she layer in bed and put on socks, she couldn't help but recall that one time Michael laid in bed with her because it was cold. She giggled to herself when she turned off the light and laid on her back in bed.

It was deadpan silent in that room. So if Y/N likes a fan or TV to help her sleep, this isn't very good for her. Either way, she managed to fall asleep while replaying plenty of memories in her head. Like one time, the first week of Michael staying at her house, she woke up to get ready for work. When she stood on the countertop to get the blender out of the cabinet so she can make a milkshake before work, she saw three sticky notes that said, "Short."

Giggling at the thought, Y/N closed her eyes, waiting for the day that she can live like that again. After all how can she can live in piece in her home again when her neighbors learn her roommate is a killer? She'd never be able to live in peace again. With these thoughts in mind, Y/N began to slowly drift away to sleep until finally all at once. At least, it would last like that for a little while.

A scream erupted from Y/N's mouth as she felt someone pin her to the bed. Danyel, of course, was the culprit; he held her arms tight and got really close to her. "Tell me where he's hiding! Tell me or you'll fucking regret it!" He yelled, making Y/N burst out into tears. She gasped for air, trying to kick him off of her but to no advil.

"I don't know! Let me go!" She yelled back, now trying to release her arms but of course to no advil.

"Lying little bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he let go of one of her wrists to grab something. It was too dark to see, but the metallic-plastic sound she heard means that's it could either be a knife or a gun. Y/N used her other arm to try to release her pinned down hand but she stopped when she felt something touch her head. It was, in fact, a gun. "Tell me where he is," he said as she flipped off his safety, "or die."

Y/N whimpered holding her free arm to her chest as to make herself seem smaller to comfort herself. Danyel released her other arm, putting both hands on his gun as he began to count down from 20. Y/N sniffed, her heart racing so heavily she felt like she would die. Only 20 seconds to live? What's the point of putting up a fight? She closed her eyes tightly, huffing until Danyel got to 5. As these few numbers left rang in her ears, she began to feel apprehensive.

In one swift and easy movement, she managed to hit the gun away from Danyel. A metallic clink sound hit the floor and right after that, a shot erupted. Danyel growled, slapping Y/N before lunging to grab his gun. As fast as humanly possible, Y/N shot up and ran out of the bedroom. The light from the moon shun from all the windows, making it easy for her to maneuver around and there was still enough darkness to hide. To the right outside her bedroom was the kitchen, and in the kitchen are knives, and like hell Y/N passing that up.

She swiftly grabbed one of those larger knives, one similar to what Michael carries. As soon as Y/N made it into the living room, she heard Danyel's loud footsteps run into the kitchen. In his house, the living room and kitchen don't have a wall to separate them to Y/N was in plain sight. "Put your hands up, L/N!" He yelled as he shakingly pointed his gun to her. "Make a move and I'll blow your head off!" Y/N gulped before having a master plan she learned in elementary school: she would juex him, or make him think she's going one way but she'd go the other way.

Y/N growled, jumping to her left but right as he shot, she jumped to the right again and began running. Danyel sped up after her, but it was a little too dark to actually see her move. He had to rely on her softly little footsteps that were being covered up but his own footsteps. Y/N took this time to swiftly get into Danyel's room. Luckily the floor in there was carpet rather than wood so she didn't worry about making too many sounds. In his room was a giant bed, two dressers, a nightstand, and a computer desk.

Danyel ran towards his room, not in it, and paused. "Where the hell did you go!" Y/N's lip quivered as she wiped off her tears; she looked around her for maybe something to throw so he would check inside the room, but know she was behind the door. Looking around her, she saw a binder on a bookcase she hadn't noticed before and grabbed it, throwing it against the wall across the room. Almost as soon as it hit the wall, Danyel ran in passed her, giving Y/N a good opportunity to ran out.

But instead, she gripped her knife strongly before running up to him from behind and plunging the knife right into his ribs, below his arm. Not many people know this, but one of the most vital places of the human body is below the arm; hell, sticking a fingernail in that place could pop so many vital veins that it will kill them. Danyel screamed loudly and spun around, his arm colliding with Y/N's head, knocking her over. Damn bobblehead. Danyel's blood sprayed as he pulled out the knife, dropping it onto the floor and covering his wound. He fell onto his knees. Somewhere in that time, he had dropped his gun, so he was defenseless.

Y/N ran towards the knife, as the gun was no where in sight due to the darkness of the room, gripping it. She rushed towards him a second time and this time, plunging the knife right into that bigass forehead of his. He went silent, went limp, and fell straightforward onto the floor. Y/N was covered in his blood but she weirdly didn't feel anything about it; she was basically desensitized from seeing Michael covered in it so many times.

With a small smile, she pulled out the knife and took it with her into her bedroom, throwing it onto the bed. She took of her bloody pajamas and then headed towards his bathroom to take a shower. Luckily there was much more blood on her clothes than on her body so she didn't struggle too much to get the thick liquid off her. Unfortunately, some of her skin was stained.

When she got out of the bathroom, she went back to the bedroom to get changed. No matter if she choose to put on a lovely dress, or skinny jeans and a sweater, or sweatpants and a tang top, she knew she wouldn't feel fully dressed until she could find that blue hoodie. So she headed towards Danyel's room and hummed to herself along the way. Stepping into the bedroom again, she froze when she saw a looming silhouette that was lit up by the moon threw the window. It wasn't open before, so she could only assume he had just gotten here.

A smile formed on Y/N's lips and her eyes felt watery from tears of joy. "Michael!" She yelled as she ran up to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She felt his arms slowly wrap around her too, lightly though as if she was fragile. Michael looked over at the fallen officer; he never knew that Y/N had it in her to kill someone. After all, Y/N once cried because Michael killed a butterfly. She must have been terrified; and although she couldn't feel it at the time, Y/N was so scared.

"Where were you?" Y/N asked as she whimpered, her lip quivering. Michael brushed her wet hair with his fingers, not answering her as expected. "Whatever... I'm so happy you're okay," she giggled to herself, wiping her tears away. "I guess their gonna link me with the murder no matter what I do, huh? So what should we do?"

Michael audibly sighed and let go of Y/N. He pulled his hands up to his mask, pulling it off. Y/N stood wide-eyed, her mouth parted open at the sight. Even in the darkness and little light the moon displayed, she could examine his ever feature for more than 5 seconds. "Oh my god," she mumbled as she brought her hands up to her mouth. "You're hot! What the hell! Why didn't you show this to me sooner you asshole!"

Her face was a light red shade and she was fangirling so badly inside her mind right now. After a solid 5 minutes, she finally calmed down; she crossed her arms and sighed to calm herself down. By now, Michael kinda just sat on his knees because he would rather not just stand there the whole time. "Well, um anyway..."

"Y/N. Obviously, we'll have to leave and hide. I've been doing this for a while; I know exactly where to go." Y/N shivered at the sound of his voice. It was serious this time instead of mischievous like the first time she heard it. Her cheeks lit up again but instead of fangirling on the outside, she kept it more on the inside.

"R-Right... I suppose we should be going now?" Michael nodded, smirking as he grabbed the sides of Y/N's face and pulling her close. They're lips collided (ew cooties) for a few seconds, and in those few seconds Y/N managed to have invented a new color, uncover a number hidden between 8 and 19376484974939, and small the word "iris." Right after they parted, Michael slid his mask back on and stood up.

"It'll be faster if I carried you. Your short legs won't go far on their own." Y/N huffed loudly, putting her hands on her hips. Her face was even brighter now, but wHatEver.

"You know what? Fine! At least I can see what it's like to be a damn giraffe." Plus she can also be held with biG StRonG ArMs or something like that, I don't know. She went up closer to him and held out her arms. "Just so you know, I want to stop by McDonald's on the way to where ever we're going."

Michael rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips under his mask as he picked her up bridal style, heading for the window. "Also! If you drop me, I'm suing." He ignored her comments as he stepped out of the window, landing perfectly. Y/N jumped in fear, "Cheezits rice!" Now if what she said didn't make sense to the reader, they should say it out loud and think about what it sounds like. Anyway, Danyel's house was actually pretty secretive. It's in the middle of the woods with only one road that leads to civilization. And that's where the two were heading.

~~~~~~~~~~

"This place is weird," Y/N said as she ate a McChicken nugget. She was holding a happy meal that contained a 6-piece chicken and fries. Also it came with a Rainbow Dash toy. Pure bliss. Anyway, the two of them were in an abandoned asylum that had concrete floors and white walls; there were cobwebs and wood and dirt scattered. "Also, if you think for a damn second that I'm cleaning this, you're wrong."

"Not you. We. We need a place to stay, right? A little work here and there would be sufficient."

"How are you gonna use big words when your handwriting looks like a mouse trying to use a pen?"

Three months later, the asylum did not look bad at all. They only used very few areas of it; by the window they entered through was three rooms that were very close together. These rooms and the hallway that connected it was basically their home. It sounds strange, but after managing to steal a bunch of lights, sweep away nasty shit, and steal certain kinds of wallpaper to cover up the old wallpaper, it became livable. They brought in tables, even a fucking fridge, chairs, etc to make it more homey.

The asylum wasn't that old either; there was outlets for plugging in lights and a fridge and all that. They were able to steal power from a nearby working place to even get the power needed, too. Things worked surprisingly well. Y/N would cook, Michael would clean, and all that good stuff. Y/N was the one to go out shopping and all that, and Michael would steal. The power of teamwork! One one of the rooms was a bed and dresser; the bed was pretty low on the ground actually and hella big too, so Michael could fit.

Y/N would be home a lot by herself, as Michael's quest to kill his family was worth more than life to him, but she would still see him pretty often.

This series is over, but if anyone suggests a story deeper into how their relationship would be or perhaps even kids, I have no shaming in making it happen. Or perhaps a different ending?!

[playboysaleen]

Love Malady.

Part 2.

Part 1.

Summary: Daughter of the notorious gang of thieves. One day your brothers group kidnap a nobel woman. Feeling guilt you gave her warm clothes, tended to her injuries, and helped her escape. instantly the world falls under a deadly pandemic and is killing/infecting people left to right and you are the only one who is immune. All because you saved a girl years ago coming to find out... it was the goddess of death(Famine).

Warnings- cursing i think, violence.

___________

Present.

February 12th, 2021.

The night Buck got sick changed everyone's life. I waited hours for my phone to ring giving me the ‘okay homeboys fine.’ but Jaime walked into my room with tear-stained cheeks telling me Buck didn't make it.

Then a couple days later after Bucks death one of the guys found Adam dead with the same symptoms. Then Pedro, then Jackson, then Shelli, and it killed off almost all of my fathers gang. The disease spread like a wildfire. From our home town to the city, the state then just did this hopscotch move and expanded around the whole world.

The first year the doctors tried to keep it a secret but it flared so fast that society called it the ‘Sinister Ash’. There was no cure when the officials realized it was airborne, literally nothing could cure anyone. Some were lucky with similarities of a stomach virus and a mild headache, and there were the less fortunate. Headaches, stomach bugs, fever and cancer like symptoms. The strong can work through it but it was permanent. The rest who had it worst? Died off just like Buck and Adam.

“Why are you not eating?” My fathers voice rang me out of my thoughts with his thick Venezuela accent, I peeked at my father shrugging my shoulders. Grumbling, he focused his attention to Jaime as they went over the next move for their ‘purloins’. I grabbed my plate walking towards the kitchen running the hot water over the greatest plate, a thud sounded in the dining room which caused my brother's name to boom out my fathers mouth. I ran towards the other side of the table to grasp my brother's shaking body, cursing under my breath. I dialed 911.

“The ambulance is on the way, go Pa.” I instructed my father watching his face fall, he sighed placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Our time has come, I love you, my child.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my forehead making his way out the back. I cooed into Jaime’s hair as I held him in my arms praying to the man above if he could not let this disease invade my brother's body. ________________________________________ “Did you at least get the girls number?” Jaime stated in disbelief when he woke up and saw the EMT worker reeling him into the ER. I chuckled, shaking my head playfully, pushing his shoulder.

“She was pretty..” I mumbled causing Jaime to widen his eyes pushing me back-

“I TOLD YOU!” he laughed out loud when the doctor walked in with a clipboard. A man around his 50’s with a look that masked his face of light, but we all knew he was trying to survive like the rest of us.

“Good afternoon, I am Doctor Nives.” The man spoke ever so gently but his beard gave me Cap vibes. I nodded my head looking at Jaime slipping my hand into his.

“So there’s news, I do not know how you both will take it but-“ he grabs the x rays placing them onto the screen that took up half of the wall next to Jaime. I watched as the deeper detailed body of my brother's chest caged clouds of red, black, and green.

“As you can see you have stage 2 of the Ashen, the red that covers this area here-” Dr. Nives circled the red that surrounded the upper left of my brother's chest.

 “Covers your heart, but after running the test I see your red cells are fighting the virus and it knocks more time for you.” A lump formed in my throat as the last 4 words flew out his mouth.

“Wait, what do you mean more time?” His eyes soften sending me a sympathetic look, Jaime gasped softly looking down at his hands.

“Well from the lab work it shows that you had 3 months, but at how good your cells are handling the virus you have 6 months to a year.” He finished taking his gloves off and applying hand sanitizer,

“Since you ma’am we’re around him can we run some lab work for your safety?” He asked looking between Jaime and I. I looked at my brother to see him nodding my way, turning to the man I nodded as he clasp his hands together. 

“Great. We can move you right next door so you can stay close to your brother.” Reassuring the both of us, I placed a kiss against his forehead following the doctor out. I took a seat onto the bed leaning against the back of the wall holding out my arm. 

For the last 4 years I’ve noticed a big change in my appearance that it actually scares me on the inside. First year, I lost a tremendous amount of weight, the extra weight turned into bulk in the places I always wished for.. huh..

 During the first year, the acne on my face disappeared in thin air. One minute I’m trying to clean the pores with three different facial cleansers, I go to bed, then the next I wake up and my face is so clear. I was changing for the better, yet the world was changing for the worst. That first year we lost almost 2 million lives, including a lot of the people around me. 

The second year is what sparked my curiosity of my body. One night, I was cooking dinner for Jaime and I, having a heavy debate with who is better at shooting the knife slid through my palm causing Jaime to spring off the island placing his hand against the deep gash trying his best to stop the bleeding. We knew we couldn’t head to the hospital for the sake of our fathers identity and the groups, so Jaime wrapped my hand the best he could and called it a night. I didn’t like his Tostadas anyways. Next day, I woke up to change my bandage. I opened the wrap to see no gash from the night before. Eyebrows furrowing together I question my own body for the first time in my life.. I can’t be immortal, that’s only in books. Then I noticed it. From small paper cuts to bruises- my wounds healed faster than any other person. From taking days for a wound to close, a couple minutes and it’s gone. Clean. Like it was never there to begin with. 

Last year, an incident had happened; Traumatizing to say. Snuck out with an old friend of mine, talking around the den says she’s been trying to make a move on me but me being me I waved them off knowing she’s not the type. Met up with her, got a couple drinks in headed back to her place, got a couple kisses in. The kissing escalated until this small beautiful voice that I heard years back echoed in my ears, jumping back, I stopped what we had and went home. Next day I received the news that she passed away AND GET THIS- JUST like Buck. Since then, her voice echoes in my ear. It’s been quiet the last month, I miss it though. 

A pinch brought me out of my thoughts when the nurse smiled my way explaining what the blood was for and Dr.Nives will be in shortly to give me the news. I snooped around heading to my brothers room when my name was said from the doctors a couple rooms down from me. 

“That can’t be possible, it’s only been 5 minutes and she’s literally clean from head to toe.” A nurse quarreled, a couple more murmurs were heard but Dr.Nives voice caught my attention-

“Let’s do Code A.” A gasp was heard from within their circle with multiple disagreements, confusion flashed my face until a ‘yes sir’ and footsteps were heard coming my way. I sprinted towards my room taking a seat sending Jaime a small text message. 

“Heya Y/n, do you mind if I give you some antibiotics just in case you are diagnosed with the Ashen?” The nurse requested which I nodded extending my arm watching her place the small plate next to me. I squinted my eyes examining the shot that contained a weird dark substance. 

“Why is the stuff black? Isn’t medicine a clear color for safety purposes?” I blurted out, watching the nurse grab the shot striking the needle into my vein. I grunted feeling the warm liquid enter my body, I huffed lightly leaning my head against the wall. Then, it hit me. 

“Wait, what if my test comes back negative? Why do I need antibiotics?” I glanced at the nurse feeling my heartbeat raise as the room began to shrink.

“What’s… what’s happening to me?.” I whispered watching the nurse draw more blood from the previous spot. I felt like I needed to throw up, once the nurse left I wobbled towards my brothers room next door, 

“Man bro we need to get some take out when we leave this place- Y/n? Are you okay?” Jaime rambled out then his face washed with concern as I stumbled onto his bed. 

“I don’t feel so good Brother..” I breathed out looking up to lock eyes with his own. He gasped, wrapping his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. 

“Y/n…” he whispered, watching my contacts with my brown eyes slowly drain into this grey/golden color. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked turning towards the door making sure no one came in.

“They gave me the Sinister Ash.. I can feel it in my chest. We have to go.” I grunted using all my strength to push myself off my brother's bed wobbling towards the door. A cough formed in my throat falling out my mouth, my hand flew to my mouth watching the black and red substance pool into my hands. 

“Y/N?” Jaime shouted running to my side, I grabbed him for support walking out the room. I felt the fire in my chest pass when a small burp lashed out my lips. Sighing deeply I stood up straight facing Jaime. 

“I… I feel better.” I mumbled opening the doors to the emergency waiting room. My body collided with another grabbing them instantly- I gasped at how quick my reflexes were, even Jaime’s eyes widened. 

“Why thank you, I’m so sorry I- Y/m? Why are you not in your room?” Doctor Nives questioned looking between the both of us, I felt warm liquid on the side of my mouth. Quickly wiping it, a fake smile formed on my face slowly stepping back towards the exit just a couple feet from us. 

“Sorry Doctor, but I think it’s time my brother and I head home- our father must be worried sick.” I bluffed, gripping my brother's wrist, giving him the signal.

 “Y/n. We know who you both are.”

_______________

Thank you for the wait<3

taglist- @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

[law-3131]

Vicks Product Review

by Lawrence Laceda GED106-A1

The majority of filipinos use Vicks VapoRub inside and outside of their household. There is a saying that your mom is a Filipino if every illness you experienced as a child was cured with Vicks. With that said, I remember when I had a fever, and my mom came up to me with a sock and Vicks in her hand. She gently rubs Vicks at the bottom of my feet then let me wear the socks. As far as I remember, I took a nap then when I woke up my fever was mostly gone, and I felt so much better. Even today I use Vicks whenever I get a fever or any ache in my body because my parents taught me where to apply and what to massage to ease my discomfort. Discomfort like headaches, muscle aches, coughs, colds, and fever. There is this one time when I was writing my papers and I felt that I’m having a headache. I immediately applied Vicks on to my forehead then massage it and took a break from what I am doing. Then minutes pass by my headache was not that much painful and I resume into doing my papers. I can say that it is helpful to me even in a time of need.  

 Vicks is an ointment that has menthol to soothe a person’s cough and help to unclogged airways so that people can breathe smoother. Vicks’ main purpose is to relieve the symptoms of coughs and colds. It can also be used to soothe muscle aches, headaches, and sore throats. It gives you a relaxing feeling to help ease the pain you are experiencing. A cool menthol scent and feeling may be expected when you applied Vicks to any part of your body. People with muscle aches, coughs, and colds. It can be applied to babies and even the elderly that experienced symptoms.

 The active ingredients to make Vicks are 4.8% Camphor, 1.2% Eucalyptus oil, and 2.6% menthol that most purpose is for cough suppressant. Its color is white with an oily jelly wax feature. It is for external use only that can be applied to chest, throat, and muscles. When using the product do not heat, consume, or apply internally in any kind of way. The function of Vicks is to cool the area of skin that the ointment covers to give your body distraction in having a painful feeling to a relaxing feeling.

Vicks VapoRub is beneficial to those that has muscle aches, headache, coughs and colds. It can also be a remedy for treating toenail fungus and even treating rough and dry skins. However, it is also the cause in having allergic reactions, skin rash and other severe diseases. According to Stanborough (2020), applying Vicks in and even around your nose may cause production of mucus and an inflammation of airways especially to children younger than 2 years old. Vicks can also be a treatment for acne, but it may also be the cause of having severe acne breakout due to some ingredients of it.  

Vicks VapoRub can be used with a lot of things so that people that is experiencing discomfort can soothe their pain with the product. With that said, aches outside the body such as muscle aches, sore throat, coughs and colds can be applied with Vicks. Apart from that, Vicks may also be the cause of mucus formation that protects the airways because of irritation. In my experience, Vicks helped me a lot to get rid of headaches, muscle aches and to breath smoother. I can say that even though there are studies that prove Vicks have flaws there are also benefits using it and it is effective. I recommend using Vicks for muscle aches, headaches, coughs, colds and sore throat only due to its effectiveness that I have experience through time.

[make-me-imagine]

Howdy, let's go! 21, Ace-PanRomantic yet still prefer males, gender questioning, 5'4, chubby pare shape, acne scars/redness, dark brown almost black eyes/wavy thigh length hair, beauty marks on left bottom lip line/think an incomplete snake bite and on my forehead slightly off the middle are two more beauty marks, hooded eyes, down turned lips, and round face shape, duff beige skin tone, some say I look as young as 15, typically dress in dark colors that are feminine and gender neutral. (1/2)

I’m sorry it took so long! I hope you like them. Also, DAMN your hair is long lol. I can’t get my hair to grow past my chest, it just stops growing lol, though I do now tend to keep it a short bob because I gave up on length lol. 

Pushing Daisies:

I think you’d fit in really well in the whole Pushing Daisies style aesthetic lol. And of course, I ship you with Ned (he’s pretty much the only person to ship with though if you prefer males lol). But I do think you would go well together. I think Ned would be very respectful towards you and your boundaries. He loves your beauty marks and sometimes looses himself and traces the invisible lines between them when you are lying comfortably together. Ned is very respectful and would never talk down or over you. He also adores your personality, your willingness to learn, and how kind you are to others.

Prompt 19: Letter (I took a little detour on this, so the more accurate prompt would be ‘Sticky Notes’ hope you don’t mind)

Ned was walking through the kitchen preparing to open the restaurant when something bright pink in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning to look, he sees a little pink sticky note stuck on the pie shelves. Smiling to himself, already knowing what it is, he walks over to it.

Pulling it off of the shelf he read the words with a fond smile ‘Try not to burn any pies today! xoxo ♡” 

Shoving the note into his apron pocket he continued on with his day.

-

You yawned at you wandered through the kitchen ready to get some coffee/tea to wake you up. As you got to the coffee maker you smiled as your eye caught on a large green paper not stuck to it.

‘Things to remember today:

-Drink Water, Eat Food

-Breath

-That you are perfect and beautiful

-That I’m sorry AGAIN that I accidentally knocked your nail polish off the counter, braking the vial, I promise I’ll buy you a new one

-That I love you

xx”

You grinned at the note as you took the note, carrying it to the living room. Taking out a small paper box from the shelf you opened it, your eyes scanning the small pile of bundled sticky notes, all covered in Neds hand writing. Adding the new note to the collection, you closed the box and placed it back on the shelf before carrying on with your morning.

-

Ned woke up with a groan, stretching and slowly opening his eyes. His hand wandered over to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. Frowning slightly he ran his hand over his face, only for it to knock off a sticky note that had apparently been placed on his forehead.

Squinting as he picked up the yellow note he blinked a few times to clear his still blurry vision. “Left early for my appointment so I could stop at some stores on the way, see you later! xoxo ♡”

Wrapping his hand around he note, he placed his hand on his chest as he slowly lingered back to sleep, wondering if you’d be back by the time he woke up again

-

You sighed as you leaned your head back against the seat of the car, trying to calm yourself from the stressful situation you just got out of. Your anxiety pulsed through you as you took a few breaths trying to calm down.

Feeling the pulse of emotion you grabbed your bag, looking for your car keys. You just wanted to get home. As you looked for your keys your eyes landed on a crumpled blue sticky note.

Pulling it out, you straightened it out, your eyes grazing over Ned’s familiar handwriting as you wondered when he put this in your bag.

“Just remember that no matter what happens, you’ll survive, because you are strong and amazing. And whenever you need help or reassurance, or even just a hug, I will be waiting at home for you. I love you, more than anything. xxx”

You felt tears swell in your eyes as your anxiety and stress began to fade away. Ned knew that today would be stressful for you, he offered to come, but when you said no he must have written and stuck this in your bag. 

Grabbing your keys you were more excited to get home and thank him, and get yourself that big hug he promised in his note. 

^^This is pretty close to what your height different would be with him lol

The Hobbit

I ship you with Thorin. Thorin would appreciate your outlook on the world, your politeness, self-sufficiency, and the way you take no shit. He was taken back by you when you first met and thought you to be very interesting, he grey to like your company quite a lot, and over time he needed it. He is comfortable in a non-sexual relationship, and adores your companionship. Though he isn’t the best at emotions, he does try his best to comfort you when your anxiety and depression kick-in. He hates seeing you hurt inside and will pull out all the stops to get you out of your own mind. 

Prompt 19: Letter (**Lansel is apparently “love of all loves”, taken from this post by @demifishblog​)

As you stared out at the rising sun, sat outside your cabin home in the hills outside of the Blue Mountains. A home you had shared with Thorin before he left on his quest to Erebor what felt like so long ago. 

Pulling a folded piece of paper out of your pocket, you ran your hand across it before opening it for the hundredth time.

Your eyes scanned over the words, his voice in your head as you read them. You could recite the letter to yourself, as you’d read it so many times, but you loved to see his familiar handwriting as you read it.

My dearest Lanselê,

I know I sometimes cannot speak my true feelings, so I hope that this letter holds more of them than I was able to say to you before I left.

I know you fear for me and my kin, as I fear for you at my absence. But I have faith that you can survive without me, as I have faith I will one day return to you, once again, and as the King of Erebor. Once I do, I will take your hand and you will rule by by side as I once promised to you. Though I know that matters little to you, as all you wish for is my quick return.

I cannot promise it to be a quick return, but I will try my best to come back to you before you have given up on me. 

And please know, that al the days that I am gone, my mind and heart will constantly be with you, as I imagine your voice and your beautiful smile and how I hope you will be thinking of me. I know that there will not be a day in which I do not imagine you being in my arms once again. 

I hope you forgive me, my love, for leaving you. I hate that I had too. And I promise that I will make up for my absence for the rest of our lives. I will give everything I have to you, and all the love I can muster. I promise. Just please, wait for me. Wait for my return. 

And every night, look at the moon, and know that I look at it as well, thinking of you, and sending my love with it to you every night. And every morning, as the sun rises, know that I watched that same sun, rise for me. And as I watched it rise, I whispered ‘I love you’ to you, and hoped that some how you could hear it.

You are as patient with me as you are kind, and I hope that patience does not give out, as I impatiently wait to be back with you. I only ask that you have faith that I will return. I WILL return to you. I promise.

Until my return,

Thorin

As you sighed, closing the letter once again, the distant sound of hoof-beats made you raise your head, your eyes scanning the horizon. As the sound got louder, you rose from your seat, your heart beginning to bead rapidly. Wondering what was coming.

Seeing the top of a flag appear above the hill, you took a step forward. You covered the sunlight that had been blinding you with your hand as you tried to focus on the appearing figures on horseback. 

As your gaze adjusted, the figures were still back-lit and hard to see. But as your eyes landed on the figure in front, you heart seemed to burst from your chest. You could recognize that silhouette anywhere, and as he grew closer, and his appearance now clear, your grin widened, your jaw almost aching from the size of it as every ounce of worry you had been carrying on your shoulders faded away, the only thing you could think now was that it was over. He was home.

[jokerownsmysoul]

“Another thing to love”, Joker x Reader // comfort, a little angst?

Summary: Reader is insecure about her body and her acne, this is why she takes distance from everyone. Joker loves her so much and is worried about her.

Warnings: insecurity, sad thoughts, mention of anxiety

Words: 2698

A/N: This is the first Joker x Reader I ever written so forgive me if it’s not the best. Also english is not my first language. I’ve written this fic in my native language, italian, and then I translated it in english, so I apologize for any typos. I studied english in high school and now that I go to university I’m still learning it on my own.

I got inspired by the request of @ajokeformur-ray​ I always read your fic and the other day I saw your post. I just felt I had to written your request. I love your writing and you always makes me feel better with your fic, so what better way to thank you than writing for you too? Also this gave me the courage to break the ice on my blog. I hope this doesn’t makes you feel uncomfortable but makes you feel better, just like you make me feel better, and all the people who read your stories too.

You’ve always had bad days in which you just don’t feel okay about yourself. Some days it takes little to get better. It’s enough put on your lips that lipstick you like so much, curl your hair or wear that short dress, that in other day you’d never wear, just to dance around the apartment as if your body is moving by is own will and letting Joker looks at you with a mischievous smile and a loving look in his eyes. Sometimes Joker joins you and both of you dance together in every corner of the apartment, your bodies coming together in a waltz held by the rhythm of your love that is never stable, but it’s always changing. Slow, fast. Slow, fast. Just like your love: in your love there is the absolute certainty of two bodies in one soul, but also the unpredictability that only such a great love can give. Other times he simply sits on the sofa keeping his eyes fixed on you not to miss a single move you make.

In these moments you can see the emotion he feels everytime you dance throughout the apartment without worrying about anything, as if existed only the two of you in the world. The emotion he feels every time you let yourself dance gracefully and you feel as free as he feels every time he dances. You dance as if you were made of lightness and grace, with your arms hovering in the air as if they wanted to touch the atmosphere all over around you, your legs which never stay for more than a minute on the same point which you let them go in sinuous moves. You are dancing for yourself, but also and above all for Joker and you both know that.

Most of the time in your moves he recognizes his moves and this is just another proof that you two have become one soul and two hearts that beat together at the same time. Your bodies and minds have now synchronized with each other. Each of you has extended into the other, there is such a poetic exchange of thoughts, emotion and habits bewteen you two that one has poured into the other, a mutual exchange that comes out of these small things. It comes out of your way of dancing, so similar to his, and of his way of stroking your hair, so similar to your way of stroking his green hair that you love so much.

But some days, like today, nothing seems to be enough to make you feel better. Neither the music you love, nor a dress that most of the time makes you feel pretty because it shows up your curves, not even comforting you with your favorite food doesn’t make you feel better.

On these days it’s not even enough to wear the Joker’s blazer, which you love as much as you love him and every time you wear it always makes you inevitably feel beautiful. These days you just avoid mirrors as much as possible, you lie down on the bed, watching your favorite movie hoping that those thoughts will go away as soon as possible but most of the time you will close in yourself, leaving no one to go beyond the armor that you have just built to protect yourself. Not even Joker can do such a thing, on these days.

The day was almost over and a part of you was happy to see the last lights of the sunset coloring the night and see that this bad day was coming to an end. You were lying on the bed and you could see the ragged walls of the room being wrapped in a bright red color, and in your heart you hoped that the next day would be easier to manage, and that the boulders deep in your heart would be lighter every day, until this insecurity was gone. Because no matter how unmanageable it may be, no matter how many days you can hear it, it leaves, sooner or later, as it happens every time it comes and manages to catch you. So you wait, motionless, patient, hoping that this time the insecurity will go away faster than the previous one.

Your mind was so buried in those negative thoughts, so committed to removing your insecurity and anxiety which woke you up in the morning as much as possible, that you didn’t even noticed whether the noise of the entrance door opened or the steps of Joker coming home, studying the apartment looking for you. At the exact moment he entered the house he was surprised not to find you in the living room, sitting at the table studying or on the sofa recording a Charlie Chaplin movie to watch together once he got back home. A slight shiver of anguish ran down his spine: it was Joker, but deep inside he was still Arthur and his insecurities had never left him, he was always tormented like the man he had been before. A man who had never really gone away. The only difference was that now all the torments that Arthur kept repressed within him were now entitled to carry a weight, thanks mostly to your presence that reminded him every day of how important his feelings were. He had been away from you for a long time and his only desire was to lie in bed wrapped in your embrace or to cradle you in his arms while you sitting on his lap, just as you both like.

By then he looked for you in every room of the apartment except in the bedroom and this is the reason why he hoped that you were there, and that nothing bad had happened to you in those 24 hours when he was not there to protect you. He opened the door and saw you lying in the bed hidden by a cocoon of blankets, the only thing he could see of your body were your forehead and a pile of hair coming out from the edge of the duvet. Although you heard the noise of the ruined door hinges when Joker opened the door wide with an impatience that brought out all his concern, you did not turn to him or even say hi. Joker sighed in relief seeing your figure in front of his eyes. He knows you love him, he always knew, but sometimes even the smallest thing is enough to bring out his deepest worries and fears, which he somehow always keeps in a grip.

“Y/N?” he asked, but getting no answer he approached you, sitting next to you. You were lying with your back turned to him and you could feel his buttock sitting on the bed and pressing against your back, only that simple contact was enough to let you understand how much you had missed him and how hungry your body was for his presence. Yet you stood still. I mean, what else could you have done? Joker made another attempt trying to lift one edge of the top blanket to stroke your shoulder.

“Y/N.” This time his tone of voice was imperative, decisive. He understood that something was wrong and with that single touch between you two you felt that his body froze: not because he was angry because you didn’t talk to him, but because you were in pain and this made him feel bad. Especially at that moment in which you didn’t communicate with him or didn’t give him your attention. Your pain was his pain. All the time of your long relationship he had always been particularly worried about your pain, actually more worried about yours than his own, and he would have done anything to make you smile again. Your pain was his pain, and that would never change.

“You can’t look at me, Joker.” You tugged the blanket so he had to let it go and you brought it back to you, covering yourself even more. Now your head was totally buried under that blanket and the only thing Joker could see of you now were only those wild strands of hair that your grip had spared.

You kept Joker as far away from you as possible, even if you were a meter away from him, and Joker knew you needed space; he always understood your needs, in fact he took his hand away and put it on your shoulder, but this time from above the blanket. “Y/N, my love, is there something wrong? Why can’t I look at you?”

Your body relaxed at the gentle touch of his hand on you. You hadn’t seen him since the night before and that day you had missed him so much that the only thing you wanted was his skin in contact with yours, his hugs, his warmth. With a broken voice you spoke still buried in the blanket so much that looked like your voice was behind the walls, and he barely understood what you said. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like this?” He never forced you to explain anything you didn’t want to, but you knew that sooner or later he would do everything in his power just to know what happened to you and fix the problem, so you just decided to explain yourself. Joker had promised himself that he had to make you smile again, that your pain would be gone by night, whatever was the reason.

“I mean… ugly. I’m a total mess.” Joker could not stand the times you spoke badly of yourself, of the only person who had shown him kindness, compassion, merit in this disgusting city. The only person who ever showed love to him, and who had never stopped doing it since the first day you met. You showed him your love every second and every day of your life and by his touch you could feel his body burning because an angel like you didn’t deserve those words.

“Y/N! Why do you say such a thing?” The tone of his voice looked angry, but you knew him so well that you could understand his emotions by the way he spoke and you knew that actually he was only pained by the way you have just talked about yourself and he couldn’t stand it.

“Because… my acne… my body…” Joker smiled with a veil of sadness and love in his lips, understanding what the problem was. You couldn’t see him smiling because you were still with your back turned to him, but you could feel it. Joker was for you a music that you would never stop listening, every part of him was a melody that only you could hear and love with all of yourself, as if you were both like the kind of ultrasounds that only a particular kind of living being can hear. You both could hear each other’s music just like this.

“Oh, my love.” He approaches you so that he can tighten your waist with his arm. He couldn’t look at you in the eyes, but he could do it through your caresses. One of the many ways he had to make himself heard from you despite everything. “You could never do, have or say something that would lead me to love you less.”

The feeling of his arm holding you over the blankets and that understanding tone of voice melted you completely. By now the craving you had for him was so frustrating that you couldn’t do anything but turning slowly towards him looking for his presence in your eyes, your touch, your entire being. The love for him had become stronger than your insecurity and anxiety. The love you felt for him was always stronger than anything, and it was one of the few certainties that you had for each other. You sat down, the blankets still hiding your body, but your face was clearly visible.

“Look at me… look at my face.” You said to him in those tears that were starting to fall, as if the sight of your Joker was enough to let you go in that cry which you had been kept for a whole day. You understood at that moment that the only thing you needed was him, and you had kept it away. Joker looked carefully at your face. “I look at your face, my love, and I love every single thing about it,” he moved closer to you and cupped your face with his hands to take away the tears that were running down your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love every single thing except these tears.” You smiled in tears knowing that Joker had never loved seeing you cry. “But… my face is full of scars, pimples… and my acne-” Joker interrupted you as you spoke. “Your acne,” began to speak, getting even closer with the whole body so now only your breaths separated you and the short distance allowed Joker to print a kiss on one of your scars left by acne on your cheek, “it’s just one more reason to give you a lots of kisses.” He smiled and proving you what he just said he kissed every single mark on your face, starting from your cheeks and then every part of your face that could be reached. He kissed every scar, every mark, every sign that your acne had left on your beautiful face and also kissed your tears and your eyes. “Do you understand what I want to tell you?” he asked and you nodded.

Of course you understood. You two did not communicate only through words, you had your own language which also included kisses and caresses. Your bodies have the same frequency and there is nothing you could never understand. “So you understand that when I look at you I don’t see your acne, but I see my beautiful, wonderful Y/N? The woman who fights my demons next to me every day, the woman who in my nights of insomnia gently sneaks into the fridge and gives me the courage to go out and follow her in reality, just because that’s where I can find her and kiss her? The woman who saves me every day from myself and from the entire world with just a smile? The woman I love?“ Those words increased your tears but this time they weren’t caused by pain, but by love. All the love you felt for him was in that look you gave him as soon as he finished talking, and it was so overwhelming that you wondered how it was possible to feel such a strong feeling.

"I understand it, but… you still can see my acne anyway.” Joker grinned. “I see it, and for me it’s just one more thing I can love about you. It’s one more reason to love you, another reason to take care of you.”

You felt the whole body give in to him. In to the love you felt for him, in to his beautiful face that stared at you full of passion and tears held back for having seen you sad, in to his warm hands that had never stopped holding your face.

“Can you give me another kiss?” you asked in need, childish and impatient to feel him everywhere around you. With a grin on his face his lips were in a second already on yours, giving you that passionate kiss that you had craved for since he left the night before.

Some days it takes little to get better. Other days, like today, you just need your Joker to remember what’s like and how you feel when mostly your flaws are loved by the only person you care about.

Tomorrow you can wake up again with your insecurities in your heart, or in a week, or in two months. It doesn’t matter when they could wake you up. Joker will always be by your side like today, ready to hold your insecurities and help you manage them with you.

Until, one day, you will be able to love them too just as he loves them.

[portersfilms]

drained. (n.m)

prompt; nick helping a melanin reader do her self care routine after a rough week and the quote ‘you’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this’ 

requested; no, i thought of this after one of my guy friends helped my with my wash day routine. so i make myself soft with nick. this is for my melanin beanz, cause wash day stays being a struggle, especially if ur not motivated. but we look good after all of it sO 

and it’s nicks birthday the day i’m finishing this !

it was exam week, you had presentations and tests back to back and that meant: a stress overload. it was friday, 1:37 pm, and you were on your way back to the prettymuch house. you had ended the day with your spanish presentation and you couldn't help but think about your slip ups. as you drove down the road, turning up the driveway, your mind swam with thoughts that made your head hurt. you put your car in park, taking a second to breathe, putting your face in your hands. 

you weren't sure how long you sat in your car, but you soon decided you were ready to go inside, and nap. you walked through the door, dropping your bag and basically lunging up the stairs, everyone out of the house to do their own thing. you made your way to nicks room, sighing in relief as the scent of fresh laundry and his cologne filling your senses. you headed straight to the closet, flipping through the clothes before pulling his light blue bart hoodie off a hanger. you smiled softly as you put it on, feeling a blanket of tranquility fall over you. you pulled your hair into a high puff, sighing at the short curls that failed to pull all the way up but flopping onto his bed anyways. it didn't take long before your eyes were shut and your mind was turned off. 

you woke up to someone sitting down by you on the bed and then running a hand up and down your arm. you blinked carefully before sitting up, locking eyes with your boyfriend, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

‘hi’ your voice was small, making his smile grow and him to tug you into his chest. your cheek pressed against his shirt, your eyes starting to shut almost immediately. 

‘hey,’ he pulled you back, placing his hands on each shoulder, and looking down directly into your eyes. you couldn't cover the dull glaze that fell over them, the constant all nighters you took that week, cramming words and phrases into your head had drained you completely. you had to break eye contact and did that by glancing over to the window, only to realize that it was pitch black outside. he noticed your eyes widen and lips part and laughed softly. ‘its almost eight, y/n’ he stood up, one of his hands trailing down your arm before taking hold of your hand, the skin tones contrasting flawlessly. ‘you deserve the sleep but you also need to take care of yourself after the isolation you pulled this week.’ you sighed silently, standing up to follow the italian. he kneeled down, turning the nozzle of the bath before going under the counter and pulling all of your hair products out, setting them in order on the floor. 

‘nick’ you shook your head, as he looked up at you. ‘you really don’t have to’ he stood to your height, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, before resting his against yours. 

‘i want to’ his voice was almost inaudible but it still spread chills down your spine. ‘you’ve worked too hard this week, and its time to take a break’ he stepped back, smiling brightly before gesturing towards the bath. you giggled softly before stripping of the leggings and sweatshirt, feeling oddly secure as you climbed into the bathtub. you let out a hum as your tense muscles hit the warm water, your shoulders instantly dropping and your chest loosening. the water seeped into the cracks of your limps as you drew shapes along the surface of the water. you sighed softly as nick pulled your hair down, his fingers gentle despite the multiple times you’ve told him you grew to have a tough scalp. ‘move forward mamas’ his voice was soft as he nudged your spine with the tips of his fingers. the water rippled around you as you slid forward, your back slouching as you lost of the support of the bathtub wall. you closed your eyes, tilting your head back as nick poured bath water down your hair. he continued to part it and cover it with co wash, a soft moan leaving your throat as he scratched at your scalp. you were almost put to sleep, again, as he finished rinsing out the wash. he stood up, pulling a towel off of the steel rack before turning back to you. he took your hand once more to help you out of the tub, water now lukewarm. he wrapped the towel around you before wrapping his own arms around you as well. you laughed half halfheartedly as he rocked side to side, looking into your eyes through the mirror. he guided you into the room, tossing you a new, bigger sweatshirt of his, and a pair of your spandex. 

the two of you had returned to the bathroom, you sitting on the counter and him standing behind you. your hair was parted four ways and nick was currently finger combing through a section, curling jelly between his fingers. the sweet smell of coconut swirled around the two of you, making you both even  more drowsy then before. he finished in a little over ten minutes, finishing by placing your silk cap over your head. you leaned back into his chest, your eyes fluttering as you attempted to stay awake. he smiled, turning you to face him before placing a soft kiss against your lips. 

‘you’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this’ he mumbled after pulling away, ‘just your skin care and you can go to bed, i know you’d kill someone if you skipped it, no matter how tired you are.’ you sleepily smiled. 

‘i need to keep my skin clear, and i cant let school get in the way’ you joked with him, dragging a smile from him as the usual you started to show. he bit his bottom lip in concentration as he spread toner across your skin, followed by an acne cream and finished with moisturizer. you fell forward into his chest, smiling as he picked you up, his hands braced under your thighs before he carefully placed you on the bed. you quickly found your way under the cover, the sleeves of nicks hoodie draped over your hands as you sunk into his mattress. you turned on your side to face the wall, your eyes not even closing until you felt nicks arms wrap around your waist. 

‘thank you’ you couldn’t raise your voice any higher than a whisper, but he showed he heard by placing a kiss under your ear.  

‘its nothing ma, you have to remember during these weeks to take care of yourself though, you cant drain yourself like this’ you sighed, grabbing one of his arms and holding it close to your chest, placing soft kisses on his knuckles. 

‘i know.’ you spoke once more, your lips still touching his knuckles as his other hand slid under your sweatshirt and rubbed circles around your hipbone. ‘i love you’ your eyes started to fall shut, nicks breath fanning your neck and making you feel secure. you last heard nick before you drifted off, your grip tightening on his arm. 

‘i love you more’ 

sorry if y’all don’t like the small amount of dialogue, i’m just soft, and needed some comfort!nick

also requests and ships are open :)

[hazzabeeforlou]

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come. 

[uglypastels]

True Reflections // Tom Holland

request: how about something with Tom, where his girlfriend is insecure about her body and he comforts her and just tells her how beautiful she is (idk if you do smut, but add some in if you want)

(a/n) It’s late, I’m tired and emotional. I have no idea if this is actually any good. also, as I said, it’s really late so I can’t be bothered with editing (will probably regret this later whoops) 

word count: 2098

warning: angst, light swearing, self-consciousness, mention/indication of smut, indication of self-harm, depression. but it's not all that bad, there is a lot of fluff. I promise. 

One more kiss. That’s all he needed. Just one more to seal the deal. Her soft lips pressed against his as his hand supported her neck lovingly. Her hot fingertips grazed his chest and to his dismay, she pulled away. He tried to lean into her but she giggled: “Hmm, babe, I really have to get up now.” 

“Fine, but get back here quickly, I’m not done with you yet.” He smirked as he watched her scoot out of the blankets that were wrapped around their naked bodies. She put on her underwear and walked to the bathroom. While she was gone Tom let out a deep breath with a smile. His hand behind his head, chest still glistening in sweat, head spinning. 

All his senses were overthrown. He could only smell her sweet scent mixed with his. He couldn’t feel anything except for her lingering touch. When he closed his eyes, he only saw the image of her beautiful eyes looking up at him. His ears were ringing with the little moans and curses she let out while his lips were burning with the desire to taste her again. The boy was going crazy and he was fine with it. Being in love did that to you after all. 

Some time passed and she still hadn’t come back. The space in the memory foam next to him regaining its normal shape as the covers started to get cold. Tom hadn’t bothered to check the time but he knew it was longer than she usually took. Something was wrong. 

“Babe,” he called out, “I miss you.” It was a reoccurring joke in their relationship but when he didn’t receive any response he really started to worry. “Babe?” Still nothing. Tom sat up and picked up his boxers from the ground. He threw them on and jumped over the bed to the open door. 

The cold wooden floor sent shivers down his whole body but it was nothing like the anxiety he was feeling as he jogged through the small hallway to the bathroom. He knocked on the white door softly. “Love, you okay in there?” No response. He tried spinning the knob and to his surprise, it was unlocked. 

Carefully, preparing himself for anything that might be facing him on the other side, he opened the door. The hinges creaked as usual. What he saw broke his heart. There she stood the most beautiful girl in the world, looking at her reflection. One of her arms crossed over her chest, as the other rubbed her neck. She was slowly turning from left to straight ahead to right and back. Any time she turned too far she would strain her neck to see the rest of her body in the mirror. 

Her face was showing disgust. Hatred towards what she saw. Shame at her own body. She didn’t turn around when the door opened behind her. Her eyes didn’t even glance up in the mirror to look at her handsome boyfriend walk in and stand next to her. So handsome. Too handsome for her. 

“Why do you love me?” It wasn’t supposed to come out. She meant it as a silent thought. Not to be heard by anyone except for her own demons. To be left in the dark corners of her mind forever. But he heard it… and it wasn’t a pleasant thing to hear.

“Is that a serious question? You know why I love you.” He made sure to remind her every minute of every day. It was the first thing he told her when they woke up. He told her at breakfast, at lunch, and at dinner. He told her no matter if he was sitting right next to her or on the other side of the world. It wasn’t always with words. Sometimes it was as simple as letting her pick out his outfit when they went out because she had much better taste than him. Or buy her those cookies she liked so much because they reminded her of Christmas even though it was July. Or let her screw up the lyrics of his favorite songs because he loved to hear her sing.

“I’m serious Tom.” she sighed, finally turning around. He noticed how she was holding in her stomach. Looking back up to her eyes, she said with the most serious tone he could form: “So am I. But fine, let me remind you.” He walked up to her, placing his hand right above her hip and the other on her cheek. Her eyes were glistening in the yellow light of the bathroom. He could feel how her skin had turned cold from standing naked in the bathroom for so long.

“I love you because you are funny, smart, kind, loving and so much more. A day with you feels like an eternity because I can’t help but cherish every single moment. Every little thing that you do in your own special way. I love it how you always stay up all night on Halloween just to play a Christmas song the moment the clock strikes midnight. I love it how you scrunch your nose when I say something you don’t agree with,” he chuckled when she did what he just explained, “Just like that.” he gave her a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

“I love it how unique you are. Every inch of your body is covered with nothing but love and care for others and you are beautiful… absolutely divine.” She had been beaming but when he spoke his last sentence the smile faded and she scoffed.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” She pulled away from his grip and looked into the mirror just to leave him standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

“Excuse me? Have I ever lied to you?”

“I’m not beautiful Tom.” her words came out strangled. “I’m hideous.”

“Darling, please don’t say that.” He wanted to reach out for her hand, to turn her around from that cursed looking glass. She just stepped away.

“But it’s true. I’m- ugh!” she groaned in anger and frustration. “My hips and stomach make me want to vomit. I have saggy boobs and rolls…” tears were forming in her eyes, “my legs are short and stumpy and so are my fingers. I have acne and stretch marks all over the place,” her eyes fell on her hips and thighs. “Not to mention the scars.” She moved around so the light would hit all the marks she was talking about. Suddenly, her lower body was covered in thin pale lines, some accentuating her body shape with the purple-red tinge in them, some even thinner and parallel to each other, Tom had memorized all of them. Sure to kiss every spot of hatred away from her when they were in bed.

“My nose and forehead are huge, while my eyes are tiny. My smile is horrendous and don’t even get me started on my eyebrows.” Her hand went up to smoothen the hairs in her left eyebrow, the one with a little scar going through it. Tom knew she despised it but to him, it was one of her finer details. Just like anything else on her body.  

“Darling-” he couldn’t listen to it anymore. She was killing herself with her own words and he was dying alongside her.

“And my hair, god, my hair. Always a mess, I don’t know how you can live with me… how you can even look at me. I don’t deserve you. Everyone else knows it. All of those people are right. I am just a waste of space and I should just let you go. I shouldn’t keep you away from something better. You can do so much better than-”

“That’s enough!” Tom didn’t mean to yell. He just wanted to pull her out of the trance that she put herself in. He should have seen it coming. It happened every time. Her mind would subconsciously wander off to the darkest place and she would start to say all of those horrible things. Just staring in front of her. Eyes blank and unfocused. She turned her head in shock when he shouted out. Tom lowered his voice.

“Love, you are breaking my heart. I can’t listen to it anymore. For the love of god, please stop.”

“But it’s true Tom, all of it. I’m hideous! I am a disgusting, piece of shit, that doesn’t deserve you or anything you have ever given me.” The tears were now streaming down her face. She looked broken. The last few pieces only hanging off of their corners to each other. Ready to fall apart.

Tom took a step forward and she took a step back. Even though the floor was clean and smooth, every time she back away from him it felt like stepping of lego and shards of glass. Only when her back hit the tiled wall could he finally close the space between them. But before he did take that final place, the last pieces fell apart. The little cries turned into sobs as she put a hand over her mouth and slid down to the floor. Her forehead leaning on her raised knees. Tom immediately slid down the wall next to her. She fell to her side, her cheek on his bare chest. Tom could feel the tears trickle down his skin as he stroke her hair. That all he did. He didn’t say anything. He just let her cry.

They stared there for a while. Her sobs softened but her breathing stayed uneven. Tom was looking up at the ceiling, recounting the panels over and over again, holding back his own tears.  He only looked back down when the grip on his arm loosened, when her breathing finally found its rhythm again and faucets in her eyes ran out. He pulled her close and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“Darling,” he whispered, “You are the most beautiful girl the world has had a pleasure to have created. Everything you see in that mirror is exactly the reason why I love you. I love every inch of your skin and yes, that includes every blemish, spot, scar or mark you got. I love each and every hair on top of that pretty head of yours as tangled or messy it might be sometimes.

“You are the love of my life and you make me the luckiest guy in the universe just letting me be with you. Not to mention to see you, to touch you, to love you...It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. We got each other and that’s what’s important. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“Tommy,” her voice was still shaky. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now let’s get you to bed. You’re freezing.” She nodded against his chest and like that he helped her get up, not letting go of her for a second. His arms snaked their way around their favorite place in the world, her hips. Like that, they were walking back to their bedroom. Before they stepped through the doorway though, she turned around in his arms and kissed him. It was a long, passionate and sloppy kiss. Tom’s grip on her hips tightened and he heard her whimper just the tiniest bit.

They simultaneously pressed deeper into the kiss. Her small hand now on his jaw, her thump right under his bottom lip. He smirked into the kiss and at that moment her lips started to make their journey sideway. Beginning at the corner of his mouth, down to his jaw to his neck. Tom rolled his eyes in pleasure when he realized what she was doing. When he felt her suck on that sweet spot of his, adding on to the purple mark she had left him as a present just two hours ago.

It was all the motivation he needed to grip her tightly and pull her up bu her legs up to his hips. Her legs wrapped themselves around him as her arms did the same around his neck. Their lips connecting again. As he lead her back to their room, Tom hoped she would never let go of him. That she would let him stay in her life. To let him love and cherish her. To show her how truly wonderful and beautiful she was. Let her be there for her. Help her piece herself back together. Let his kisses be the glue that she needed to be a whole again.

The End 

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[awkwardplantwrites]

Finding Magic: Chapter Two

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That night, Renato had a dream. In the fields surrounding the town of Llantry he saw a rocky hill. On that hill stood a crumbling tower that wasn't attached to any castle. The sky was dark and overcast, with rumbles of thunder banging on the clouds. A brisk wind pushed Renato in the direction of the tower. 

He noticed someone sitting at the top, on the edge of the battlement merlons, swinging their legs with no fear of the great height. Renato walked to the tower. Rocks stabbed him through his leather shoes and grazed his hands with its sharp edges when he pulled himself up the hill.

The tower's entrance was a large wooden door with ornate decorations. It was wide open and Renato walked through. There was no room, only a stone staircase; it spiralled within the tower and he couldn't see where it led. Slime from the walls covered his hands when he touched it.

"Aw gross!" Renato wiped his hands on his shirt and continued walking. Eventually he saw the malevolent light of sky, then he was at the top of the tower. The figure turned out to be Pepi. Pepi turned round to face him.

"Why are you wearing a crown?"

"I- I am?" Renato felt atop his head and there sat a golden crown which he took off and examined. Carved onto it was an image of a knight fighting a dragon, and next to it, a healer touching the forehead of a person who knelt before them. "I think it has pictures of me. That's odd, it's showing me face without the glamour spells."

The crown became heavier and Renato buckled under its weight, nearly dropping it. Pepi jumped down from the ledge and rushed over.

"Are you alright? Let me help-"

At the same moment Pepi touched the crown, lightning struck the tower. The building blew up in flames and the floor shook beneath them. They lost their footing and tumbled off the edge. Renato braced himself for the face-first drop onto the rocky hill. But he landed back on the top of the tower.

"What?! Why am I- I was just falling, how…" Renato looked around to see the tower was no longer worn and crumbling. It was as if it had somehow restored to a brand new building.

Above them the sky turned blue, which continued without end. Renato saw Pepi again - who now wore a red cloak - he didn't seem to remember falling seconds before. With one hand he held a globe, in the other hand, two long branches. Pepi and Renato gazed upon the scenery. It was no longer Llantry's fields, but a lush meadow next to a massive lake and mountains with snowy peaks. A smile reached Pepi's lips. He glanced at Renato, bekoning him to come over, then handed one of the branches to him.

"Look down there." Pepi pointed at the bank of the lake below.

An angel with large crimson wings wore a long white robe that reached their feet, one foot was in the water, the other on the grassy bank. They poured water from a goblet into another goblet. Raising their hands, they held up the goblets as if making a toast. The goblets disappeared and the angel flew up, somehow still floating even when their wings vanished. Renato quickly averted his eyes when their robe morphed into a scarf of liliac fabric. The angel flew towards them, taking the branches out their hands.

"Watch this, I'm going to do something amazing." The angel hit them on the head with the branches.

"Ow!" Renato rubbed his head. "What was that for?!"

"Are you wanting to fight, huh? Square go!" Pepi threw the globe at the angel.

Dodging the globe, the angel apologized. "Sorry, oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I forgot to change them."

The branches shrunk and transformed into two white drumsticks. "It's my first time delivering a dream, please don't tell my boss." The angel tapped them on the head with the sticks.

Renato woke up. He sat up in bed, peering into the darkness. Across the room, Pepi slept in his chair, guarding the bedchamber door as usual.

Renato lay down again. "What was I dreaming about? I can't remember. That's so annoying." He drifted off to sleep.

At dawn, Pepi woke Renato as he tidied something up. Then Pepi left the bedchamber for an hour, saying that he had something to do. Renato didn't really care. His bed was warm. He didn't want to move. Pepi's stupid face irritated him. He didn't know why, and not knowing why made him even more irritable.

When Pepi returned, he helped Renato get dressed (despite the knight complaining like a child not wanting to take a bath). Later in the morning, Pepi gathered the knights in the manor's courtyard and informed them of Renato's magic loss. A few knights began fidgeting and adjusting their armour, failing to mask their panic.

"I know of a man who can help him. In fact, this person can help everyone in Llantry. His name is Danov and he lives on the Isle of Adhar, where I'm from. It's off the North-West coast of Costia. But it's a long journey. Two or three weeks, even if you go by horse. Though I'd suggest taking a wagon, since you don't know if Renato could start feeling worse and become unable to ride."

Ladwef, a knight with a nasal voice and who constantly looked like he was sneering, cleared his throat. "Ahem, you know of him? Have you actually met this healer? He's not a myth is he?"

"Uh no, my relatives know him." Pepi combed fingers through his hair. "They've met him personally. It'll be fine. But I can't go. Someone else will have to take Renato to Adhar-"

"What?" Ladwef squawked. "That doesn't make sense. You're the only one who knows of this healer so you should be the one to track him down."

Pepi spoke through gritted teeth. "I would be a liability. I might not seem like it, but I'm not doing too well either. And before you ask, I'm not sharing those issues. Now. Does anyone know how to read a map?"

Another knight called out. "Don't be daft! You travelled down here so you know the way back. And if your family are the ones who know him, I don't reckon they'd be friendly to one of us."

"Hey, my family is full of nice, friendly people! Although Tammy's a different story, she'd make you pay a large sum. But the rest of them would always help someone in need," Pepi insisted, and surveyed the knights. His shoulders slumped. He crossed his arms, looking down at his feet with a grimace. "I'm the only one who can travel with Renato, huh..? I barely even remember how I got here."

Renato raised his hand. "I don't want to go."

"Hush, oh brave knight." Pepi pulled Renato's hand down. "We need you to get your magic back as quick as possible. And to represent the people. Show the healer how serious this is. He can examine you or whatever."

"You shut up." Reanto huffed. "This healer… he's not going to slice me up to do that examining is he?"

"Only when you die on the way there, I promise." Pepi patted Renato's shoulder. "That’s why I’m bringing the wagon. I suppose we best start packing."

In Renato's bedchamber, Pepi organised items and put them into bags like he was arranging puzzle pieces. Renato had opted to gaze at his reflection in his pocket mirror, poking at his acne. There was some sort of burning itch of irritation he couldn't shake off. If he opened his mouth he'd start a fight with Pepi.

But when Pepi held a white sphere the size of a child's fist that lifted off his hand, and started to fly around his shoulders, Renato blurted "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" Pepi rubbed the sphere with his index finger. It leaned (or flew?) into his touch. "It's a floating dragon egg. Just joking, it's a crystal ball made of Calcite. I got this from the diviner who lives right outside South Gate. She says it can detect animosity and danger."

The ball flew towards Renato then began pulsing with red light. It quickly flew back behind Pepi, looking over his shoulder. "Well. Since you're the danger, I suppose I'll have to defeat you." Pepi held a dagger like a sword and aimed it at Renato.

Renato crossed his arms. "Stop it. if you go anywhere near me with that daggar I'll stab you with it.”

“What’s wrong with you today? Yesterday you couldn’t care less about being killed by a dragon and now you’re being mean to me,” Pepi pouted.

“I don't know why I'm mad. It’s the illness,” Renato sighed. “I’m sorry. Anyway, why did you see the diviner? She doesn't use real magic, she's a con. She told me I’d “meet the spirits of water” then I fell in a puddle the next day."

Pausing, Pepi glanced at the white ball. "I had a weird dream last night. One of the knights is her nephew, he told me about her a while back. She was helpful, I think. A bit vague though. I would've been much more stubborn about going on this journey if I hadn't seen her."

"Why? What did she say?"

"Stuff about symbolism. She told me the things I dreamt of represented new beginnings, a partnership, travelling, maintaining balance, broadening my horizons, and finding peace."

"Yeah, crap like that means nothing," Renato scoffed. "She asks questions so she can pretend-"

"She didn't ask me anything. Apart from how the dream made me feel. It made me feel peaceful, it did. You were there, y'know. And it was a vivid dream. Maybe seeing you was a representation of God in my head, since you talk about Lidion a lot. Or it could've been a message from him. Did you have any dreams last night?"

"No. I don't remember anything." A spark of envy tickled Renato's stomach.

Surely Lidion hadn't… really unchosen him. There was no way he'd replace Renato with Pepi, right? Lidion had chosen Renato to be his father's successor as head knight, and it couldn't be revoked just like that. Right?

"That's too bad," Pepi replied. "If you're not going to help me pack, go outside and get the wagon ready."

"Ugh, fine! Anything to get away from your stupid face!" Renato stormed out the bedchamber.

Renato made his way to his mother's house to say goodbye, kicking the ground with his foot the entire way. He didn't get to see her often since he'd moved into the manor. Renato defended the town during the day and have healing sessions in the evening. If there was nothing to fight, he'd spend more time healing. If there was no-one to heal or fight, he'd be improving the town's defences or giving speeches at the temple. But now he couldn't do either of those. And because of that he wouldn't get to see her for yet another month.

His mother never had anymore children. She earned a living from making and mending clothes, even though she lived amoungst the gentry, and refused to have servants. His father had been head knight, but he’d died last year.  Renato worried about his mother, given she had known his father better than he did and lost the man she loved, but she never lost that spark of hope in her eyes.

"Mam? I'm ho- Uh, I came to see you." Renato opened her door, scanning the room. An empty laundry basket sat in the corner. He nearly left to check outside, but then he saw her on the bed. "Are you sleeping?"

She stared at the ceiling. Her eyes, full of despair, slowly drifted over Renato's face. "It's been a whole season since I saw your face. Or anyone's face. No-one talks these days, not even to themselves."

Her voice trembled and tears fell down her cheeks. "No-one wants me to make their clothes. There's no-one to buy food from. I really wish your dad was here. He'd bring their souls back to these people just by saying a few words."

Renato's previous irritation faded. "I'm sorry mam, everyone's just… not feeling themselves lately. That's why I'm here, I wanted to tell you I'm leaving Llantry to find a cure," He told her, leaving out the fact that he was as ill as everyone else.

"Pepi knows someone who can help. You remember him, the man who sang at the top of his lungs to promote his sweets when he came into town, and gave all the kids a sugar rush." He held her hand. "And while we're gone I need you to stay strong. You'd make dad proud."

Her eyes remained misty but she smiled. "Thank you, darling. Come home soon. I'll be waiting for you with that apple pie you love so much, even if I have to loot ingredients from the Lord's pantry."

Renato kissed her cheek and said goodbye. He marched back to the wagon waiting by the North gate, seething with fury. How dare this illness make his mother feel so lonely. How dare she and all these people be forced to suffer. Renato passed by Dempster, the knight from Lord Paule's gatehouse.

"In my bedchamber, inside the desk drawers, you'll find three defense spells held in bottles," Renato told him. "Smash them on the ground, but only use them when things get dire. They'll last an hour each. For the rest of the time," He placed his hands on Dempster's shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"I'm counting on you and the other knights to prevent anything getting inside these walls, magic or no magic." Without waiting for a reply, Renato climbed into the back of the wagon and shoved the bags aside.

A man, held back by knights, shouted at Renato from the crowd, "Why weren't you making your healing rounds last night? I’ve got a sore stomach, I had diarrhea all night!" A few others joined in, complaining about their illnesses and the lack of healers.

"We'll be back before you know it," Pepi called out from the jockey box. "Complain to the noblemen in the meantime, though. Renato can't help you yet, I'm sorry."

Renato stared at the crowd through the wagon’s rear. Lidion, why didn’t you protect us from this illness? He thought. Nobody answered his prayer.

The gates opened and they rode out of Llantry. Renato had never left Llantry; this would be the furthest he'd ever travelled. He watched as the town's walls grew smaller the further they travelled, until it was replaced by grasslands.

At this point, Pepi started a conversation with the crystal ball that flew around him. The ball pulsed a faint yellow light.

"Can I give you a name?" In front of Pepi's face, the ball dipped up and down, which seemed to mean "yes".

"Can I call you Kezia?" The ball flew left to right, "no". "Russell?" Another no.

"Ok, I'm not the best at giving names. Try again. Uh… how about Finlay? It means "white warrior"."

The ball slowly floated in a figure eight, then motioned "yes".

"Great! Hello Finlay, welcome to the team. So far we have me; a candy delivery boy, turned over-worked squire. And Renato; a helpless wee baby inside the body of a twenty-three year old man. We're off to a great start."

"Why are you talking to that ball? It doesn't have ears." Renato grumbled. "I'm not a baby."

"Oh, hello Grumpy! You were so quiet back there I thought I'd left you back in Llantry." Pepi chuckled. "Finlay moves when I speak. It moves up and down for yes, and side to side for no. Plus it changes colours depending on how I feel, so I reckon Finlay can hear me just fine. Isn't that right?" Finlay motioned yes.

Pepi continued to chat with Finlay. "I wasn't born with magic. I couldn't make my own candy like the rest of my family, so I got stuck being a delivery boy. Walking through all kinds of weather, having people yell that my prices were too high, or that it made their kid too energetic. It really sucked, I tell you!" Finlay rubbed against Pepi's cheek as it pulsated a faint red light.

Renato groaned and slumped against the wagon bed. This was going to be a long journey.

"I do like the song my dad wrote to advertise the candy, that's always my favourite part. I usually put my name in the song. It makes more sense that way. Do you want to hear it?" Pepi cleared his throat then began singing.

"Ally, bally, ally bally bee ! Sitting on yer mammy’s knee, greeting for a wee bawbee, to buy some Pepi’s candy. Renato, sing with me!" Pepi called over his shoulder. "There was a wee lassie awfy thin, a bundle of bones wrapped up in skin, now she’s getting a wee double chin, with eating Pepi’s candy…"

A very, long, arduous journey.

[awholelotofladybug]

The Zit!: A Stammering Adrien AU Story

 Based on This AU.

Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit story. The only characters or locations I own are the ones I make up.  All other fictional characters and locations about Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir are the property of Thomas Astruc and Zag. Please support the official release.

Big thanks to @thefangirlsarecomeing for his ideas involving Alya and Nino

Adrien was panicking as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, on what promised to be a dreadful Tuesday morning. This could not be happening. How could it happen? Adrien always made sure to take the proper precautions ever since Nathalie gave him the talk about puberty. He kept his face clean, he managed what he ate, at least most of the time, he even moisturized until his skin was baby-soft, and yet there it was, right in the middle of his forehead, staring back at him in the mirror. Puberty’s ugliest side-effect. It was the most hideous thing Adrien had ever seen on his own body. There was no denying it. Adrien Agreste,  a teen model and son of a renowned fashion designer, had a zit. This was a disaster, at least in Adrien’s mind. This zit could ruin his modeling career, and destroy his social life. In a state of desperation, he covered his forehead and did the one thing he could think to do.

“MOOOOOOM!”

That was when Emilie, as swift as lightning, barged into his bathroom, followed by Nathalie and Gorilla.

“Are you okay, sunshine?” Emilie asked as she rushed over and took him by the shoulders.

“N-n-no! I have a huge z-z-zit on my forehead!” Adrien said while still panicking.

Nathalie and Emilie sighed, relieved that he wasn’t hurt or sick.

“Oh Adrien, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” said Nathalie as she walked up to him. “Now come on, let me see.”

Adrien slowly and timidly removed his hands, revealing the bulbous blemish.

“OH, MY WORD!!” Nathalie shouted.

Emilie took her son by the head to get a better look. “How on Earth did you get that?!”

 “I d-d-don’t know! I woke up, and it was…and it was there!” said Adrien, covering it back up. “What am I going to do?! I can’t go to s-s-school like this! I look like a mutant!”

Emilie took Adrien aside. “Honey, calm down. I know it looks bad, but everyone gets acne. You should have seen me when I was your age. Mine cleared up, and so will yours.”

“Maybe makeup can hide it, or maybe I should just p-pop it,”

“Adrien, no!” Nathalie said. “Makeup can make acne worse, and popping it will leave a scar, and maybe even make it infected.”

Adrien groaned.

“Hang on. I have an idea,” said Emilie as she went into Adrien’s room.

She came back with Adrien’s red ball cap and put it on his head, backward. She then positioned it with Adrien’s hair in such a way as to hide the zit.

“There. Out of sight, out of mind, right?” She adjusted the hat slightly, just to make sure.

Adrien looked at himself in the mirror again. “I don’t know, are you sure?”

“It’ll have to do for now,” said Nathalie. “Your mom and I will look for some pimple cream while you’re at school, okay?”

Adrien sighed. “Okay.”

“Good. Now get dressed and meet me and your mother downstairs for breakfast. You don’t want to be late for school.”

After giving Adrien a kiss on each cheek, the two women left Adrien in his bathroom, followed by Gorilla, who placed an assuring hand upon Adrien’s shoulder as he left. Adrien sighed. The week promised to be a rough one. But if Adrien learned anything from his experiences last year and this year, it’s that hiding in his room wouldn’t solve anything. He did what Nathalie told him to do, and got dressed.

Marinette was waiting for Adrien outside of school. There was half an hour before class began, so she wasn’t worried about being late. That’s when she saw him. He was wearing the ball cap Nino gave him and was slouched over, almost like he was trying not to be seen.

Marinette couldn’t help but worry, so she rushed over. “Adrien, Mon Cher, are you okay?”

Adrien looked up to see her, not noticing where his feet were landing. One bad step had him toppling on top of Marinette, causing his hat to fall off.

“Oh my gosh! I’m s-s-sorry, Ma Cherie. I wasn’t paying attention.” he said as he frantically got up.

Marinette picked herself up, and the got cap off the ground, but what she saw shocked her. For what seemed like an instant, she saw that Adrien Agreste, her beloved boyfriend, who always had flawless skin, had a large pimple on his forehead.

“Adrien…” she said, almost whispering.

Marinette was so shocked, she couldn’t even think of what to say.

“D-don’t look at me! I’m hideous!” Adrien said, snatching the cap away and hastily putting it back on.

“Oh Adrien, it’s not that…”

Marinette stopped herself and began thinking, well, more accurately, overthinking.

‘I can’t tell Adrien it doesn’t look bad.’ she thought. ‘He might decide to let people see it. Then he’ll be the laughing stock of the school, lose his modeling career, be labeled an outcast, be forced to leave civilization, and start his life over in the Himalayas, and I’ll never see him again, or at the very least adapt to a long-distance relationship, and those are so difficult to manage. And it’ll be all my fault!’

“How b-b-bad is it?” Adrien asked, his voice quivering.

Marinette gulped. She didn’t want to hurt Adrien’s feelings, but her paranoia kept playing her overthought scenario in her head. She decided to tell him the truth.

“I won’t lie to you, Adrien. It’s really bad. It looks like it might even be growing.” she said with a small frown.

“Oh, I knew it! I’m a f-f-freak! If anyone sees… If anyone sees me like this, I’ll be a laughing stock, or worse, I’ll be run out of town like Frankenstein’s monster! I’ll have to hide away from society in the sewers, wear a mask, and b-become the Phantom of Paris or something!”

Marinette was stunned. She had rambled and overthought things plenty of times in the past, but she rarely heard it from her friends, let alone her boyfriend.

Adrien then sighed. “I hope it doesn’t s-s-smell too bad down there. You’ll come to visit me, right Marinette?”

Marinette put her own paranoia aside to try and comfort Adrien. She knew if they were both calmer, maybe they could figure things out. So she went up to Adrien and put his hat back on his head.

“I would, but maybe we should find a way to avoid that first. It’s just a pimple.”

“Girl, that’s no pimple,” said Alya’s voice from behind her. “That is a zit. A huge, honking, whitehead zit.”

Adrien groaned as he hid his face.

“You’re not helping, Alya,” Marinette said with a huff.

“Sorry, but still, that’s one big zit,” said Alya. “I hope you know what you’re going to do to get rid of it.”

Adrien looked to Alya with pleading eyes. “Do you have any suggestions? I’ll t-t-try anything at this point.”

“Sorry, no. I never get acne, so I never have to treat it,” Alya said, trying not to brag.

This didn’t help Adrien’s self-esteem as he shrank down to the ground and hugged his knees. The girls knelt down to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, sunshine-boy. It’ll be okay,” said Marinette, hugging him.

“Yeah,” said Alya. “I bet your mom is out buying you the best zit cream on the market. She won’t let you down.”

“What do you mean you’re all out?!” Emilie shouted.

“Just as I said, Madame. We’re out of acne cream.” said the clerk. “Our entire shipment of name brands has been delayed due to a mishap at the shipping facility that they’re still fixing, and most of our store brands are sold out due to this.”

“Monsieur, please. My poor son has a pimple the size of a wild blueberry on his forehead. You have to help us.”

“Well, you could try something unconventional,” the clerk said as he took out a pamphlet, and handed it to her. “This guy, Wang Fu, is a physical therapist and healer. He might have a solution.”

Emilie looked at the pamphlet. “Nathalie, what do you think?”

“Well, with the situation at hand, it’s probably the best choice we have. I’ll have the driver start the car,” Nathalie said as she texted their driver.

The two ladies left the pharmacy, got into the car with Nathalie in the driver’s seat. Emilie looked out the window.

“My poor sunshine,” she said with a sigh. “He must be having such a hard time today.”

“It’s a pimple, Emilie. It’s not like he’s horribly disfigured,” said Nathalie.

“I know, but children can be so cruel in these situations. Pointing, laughing, taking pictures, calling names. I just don’t want Adrien to end up back where he started like when we tried to put him in primary school.”

Nathalie patted Emilie’s back. “It should be fine. After all, Adrien has a reason to stay in school this time.”

“What’s that?” Emilie asked.

“Not what. Who,” said Nathalie with a smile. “He has friends now, including a girlfriend. I’m certain they can help him through this, especially Marinette.”

Emilie smiled and hugged her dear assistant and friend. “How could I have made it through any of this without you?”

Nathalie hugged back. “I’m not sure, Emi, but I’m glad to be here.”

The two women continued hugging before finally breaking it. They continued to talk and look out the windows as they made their way to the Wang Fu’s healing center. They arrived about ten minutes later and walked in.

“Ah, Mrs. Agreste. It's so good to see you.” said an old man in a Hawaiian shirt.

It didn’t take long for Emilie to recognize this elderly stranger. “Hey, I remember you. You’re the kind old man who offered Adrien acupuncture last year.”

“Wang Fu, at your service. Has the boy changed his mind?” Fu asked with a smile.

“Well, if acupuncture can get rid of acne, the answer might be yes. You see, Adrien has a large pimple on his forehead, and the pharmacy doesn’t have any pimple cream. Could you help him?”  

Fu thought for a second, then had an idea. “Have him come here after school. I have a solution.”

It was the end of the school day at Collège Françoise Dupont. Adrien had managed to keep his blemish secret from everyone else, though it wasn’t easy. Nobody asked him about the hat, which was a relief. Still, he caught a few people whispering suspiciously behind his back, which made him paranoid and anxious, putting a strain on his day. He stood at the base of the steps of the entrance, putting his books away when he ran into trouble. That trouble took the form of Bale Boucher, Curt Coste, Dru Dain, and Ernest Emond, the four bullies who beat and harassed him on his first day.

“Hey moneybags, what’s with the lid?” Curt said.

“Yeah,” said Ernest. “You and your doofus DJ wannabe friend making some sort of loser fashion statement?"

Dru chuckled. “Maybe he’s just got a giant zit.”

Adrien sneered and rolled his eyes. “Do you guys s-s-seriously have nothing better to do than bother me?”

“Yeah? Well, you g-g-g-gonna d-d-do something about it, moneybags? Huh? Are you gonna do something about it?” said Bale said, mocking Adrien’s stammer.

“I don’t have time for this right now, Bale,” said Adrien, walking past them. “Let me know when you guys are ready to b-b-be civil.”

Outside, Adrien seemed confident, but inside, he was screaming. Sure, having Gorilla waiting in the car outside kept him from getting beaten up, but Gorilla only got involved during physical confrontations, and Adrien still had some residual fear of these bullies after what they did to him on the first day of school. Just as he was flashing back to that day, he could feel one of them taking his hat off of his head.

“Hey!” he shouted!

“Yo, I called it!” said Dru, holding Adrien’s hat. “Hey everyone, check it out! Mr. Model’s got a giant zit!”

This caught the attention of a few students. A few in this new audience started laughing and pointing at Adrien.

“So much for your perfect face, eh zit-boy?!” said one boy in the crowd.

“What are you modeling next, dweeb? A paper sack to hide your face?!” Dru said.

Adrien stood there, lowering his head, and covering his ears, trying not to listen to the mocking laughter or hurtful insults, but then, he heard someone yell out “STOP IT!!”

The crowd went quiet. Adrien looked up, and he was now standing behind Ivan Bruel, a classmate and friend of his, as well as Kim, Alix and Gorilla.

“Where do you all get off?!” Alix shouted, getting in Bale and Curt’s faces.

“Yeah, so Adrien’s rich and has a zit! Big deal!” said Kim. “Like you guys have never had zits before! The only reason you guys even pick on Adrien is that you’re jealous of him!”

Marinette, Nino, Alya, Chloé and Gorilla then went up to Adrien to support him.

Ivan then came up. “If you guys ever bother Adrien again, I’ll beat you up so bad, it won’t even be funny!” he said. This frightened the bullies and the crowd.

Kim snatched the hat away and gave it back to Adrien, and patted his back.

“Figures that the rich little twerp has some bodyguards. What a stuttering little wimp.” Bale said under his breath. This made Ivan turn back around.

“That’s it. You’re DEAD.” he said as he cracked his knuckles.

The four bullies stared in shock, screamed, and ran away, clearly not tough enough to fight someone their own size, let alone Ivan’s.

“Get back here, you chickens!” he shouted as he chased them down the road, followed by Kim and Alix.

“Hey, give them a punch or two for me!” Chloé shouted.

Meanwhile, Marinette was busy kissing her boyfriend’s cheek.

“Are you okay, Mon Cher? Are you hurt?” she asked.

“J-just my self-esteem,” said Adrien, putting his hat back on. “But I’ll be okay.”

“Well, don’t you worry, Adriki… I mean, Adrien. Ivan, Kim, and Alix are going to teach those goons a lesson. And if they don’t, I will.” said Chloé, shooting a death glare in the direction where the bullies took off.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Adrien. “It j-j-just gets more people in trouble. Still, I am… I am pretty embarrassed about the whole zit thing,”

Nino planted his hand on Adrien's shoulder. “Don’t worry bro. This will blow over before you know it. It’s all a part of puberty.”

“Have you ever had zits before, bro?” Adrien asked his best friend.

“Nah, dude. I’m one of the lucky ones, but I have been suffering from some dragon breath. I won’t even go into Alya’s mood swings.”

Nino was grabbed by the shirt collar by Alya.

“What’s that supposed to mean, smart guy?!” Alya said with a snarl.

"Whoa, babe, relax. You know I love you,” said Nino, putting his hands up in defense.

Alya pouted and put him down. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Guess we all have to d-d-deal with puberty," said Adrien as he put on a smile.

“Yeah. We sure do,” said Marinette with a giggle. "But it's all part of growing up."

Adrien sighed. “I know. Still, I wouldn’t mind if it were easier.”

“Ugh! Me too!” Chloé said as she rolled her eyes.

“Same!” Marinette said.

That’s when Gorilla pulled up in the Agreste car.

“There’s my ride. S-s-see you guys later,” said Adrien as he smiled and waved goodbye.

Adrien waited anxiously for Master Fu to come in. He was sitting in a chair, tapping his foot. Many ideas went through his head on how Fu would treat his zit. That’s when Master Fu came in.

“Hello again, Adrien.” said the healer with a smile.

Adrien smiled. “Hello, M-M-Master Fu. So, how are you going to fix my face? Acupuncture?”

“For one pimple? I don’t think so. No, I have something a little simpler.”

Fu replied as he went over to his cabinet. Meanwhile, Adrien looked towards the elder in confusion and curiosity.

“You know, Adrien, Acne at your age is natural. I dare say it’s even unavoidable,” Fu said as he reached in and grabbed a few bottles of oil.

“Oils?” Adrien asked.

“Essential Oils. I collect them myself,” said Fu as he began putting a few bottles in a bag, and giving them to Adrien.

Adrien looked at the bag, then at Fu. “Couldn’t I had b-b-bought these at the store?”

“Yes, but you can’t always trust those name brands, son. Some of them tend to cut corners for the sake of cost, and still manage to make it expensive.”

Adrien gave a small smile at the guardian’s wisdom.

“Now use these as instructed, and I urge to be more cautious in regards to your body. Forgive me if you’ve heard it before, but this is a very unstable time for you, said Fu. “Acne, body odor, mood swings, you can look forward to it all at some point.”

“Yes, s-s-sir,” Adrien replied in a respectful tone.

“And one other thing, son.”

“Yes, Master Fu?” Adrien asked.

“I’m very proud of you. You have overcome your shortcomings, and become one of the finest examples of Chat Noir I have ever seen,” said Fu.

Adrien smiled at Fu’s words. “I have you to thank, sir. You, my mom, my f-friends, and especially my lady.”

“Ladybug?” Fu asked.

“Of course. She’s incredible. She’s a great hero, a great partner, and a g-g-great girlfriend,” Adrien said with a smile. “She respects me, she listens to m-my ideas, she comforts me when I’m depressed, she’s… she’s just terrific..”

“I had a hunch that you two were made for each other,” Fu said happily. “Well, I think you better get going. Tell your mother that this first visit, and these oils, are on the house.”

Adrien smiled. Master Fu was such a great mentor and friend.

“Bye, sir.”

Adrien took a look in the bag. He had faith that Fu had given him what he needed. His zit will soon be a thing of the past.

Time marched on, and Saturday had come. After a week of hiding his blemish, and following Master Fu’s instruction, Adrien looked in the mirror that morning, and to his pleasant surprise, the zit was gone. Adrien let out a loud “YES!” which caused Emilie and Nathalie to rush in.

“Everything okay over here, sunshine?” Emilie asked.

“It s-s-sure… it sure is, mom,”

Adrien as he took his hand from his forehead.

His mother smiled and kissed him all over his face. “My baby’s all better!”

“Aw, Mom!”

“Now Adrien, remember what Mr. Fu said. You need to be vigilant about your skin, and use the oils as the instructions say,” said Nathalie.

Adrien nodded in compliance. “Yes, Nathalie.”

“Well, it’s all settled, and your next photo shoot is tomorrow,” said Emilie. “But for now, why don’t you go out, and have some fun with your friends today?”

“S-s-sounds… sounds great!” Adrien exclaimed before kissing each woman on the cheek. “Thanks, mom! Thanks, Nathalie!”

Adrien then rushed to get dressed, making the two women smile.

Later that day, Adrien found himself at a spa with Marinette, Chloé, Alya, and Nino.

“I’m glad to see you don’t have to worry about your zit anymore, my sweet sunshine-boy,” Marinette said as she kissed Adrien’s lips.

“I am too, but you know something, if another shows up, I w-w-won’t let it get to me,” Adrien said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit, dude,” said Nino. “Come on, some of the other guys are waiting for us in the sauna.”

“Coming, duUuUde!” Adrien quickly covered his mouth at what he heard coming out of his mouth.

“Uh, bro, I think your voice is cracking,” said Nino

Adrien huffed. “UGH! P-p-puUuebrty!”

His friends laughed, but Adrien didn’t mind. In fact, he even started laughing along with them.

[maaaddiexo]

Panic - Shawn Mendes

summary: you begin having panic attacks and don’t tell Shawn. He walks in on one and has no idea what to do

requested: no

warnings: no

Mainlist

The first time you have a panic attack, Shawn isn’t home. He’s on the other side of the hundred acre property giving a speech to the new recruits. It took you thirty minutes to calm down. You were all alone.

The second time, he’s visiting a neighboring pack with Andrew and his father. It’s Karen who finds you in the kitchen with watery eyes and labored breathing. 

Karen didn’t say a word as she rushed to your side and made you sit down, rubbing slow circles onto your back and cooing into your ear. It took her twenty-five minutes of whispering comforting words in your ears and rubbing your back before your breathing evened out.

When the panic attack had passed, you stained Karen’s shirt with your mascara, ashamed to be so human in a pack of wolves.

Shawn isn’t home when your third panic attack begins, three weeks after the second. He’d been gone for a week on pack business with Andrew and Manuel and was supposed to come back yesterday, but you’d crawled into an empty bed, one side too cold for your liking.

You figured that he was just late, and would be there in the morning, but when you woke up alone and there were no texts from Shawn, you began to worry and it quickly escalated.

Human mates were rare, but Shawn considered himself lucky with you, though you believed otherwise. Surrounded by beings stronger, faster, and virtually better than you in every sense made you feel like a shrimp in every aspect, even though everybody in the pack loved and respected you. 

You felt like an outcast, and you knew you always would. 

You got sick for often, acne came and went, and your meal health fluctuated like your hormones when on your period. 

And that was the reason you hadn’t told Shawn about what was happening. Shawn had never experienced or witnessed a panic attack according to Karen. He had seen his people have a crisis of faith, but this was different. You weren’t Shawn could deal with his mate having unstable mental health on top of running a pack of wolves. 

You curled up against the foot of yours and Shawn’s king bed with the heels of your hands pressed into your eyes as you try to calm your breathing but you can’t - you can’t breathe.

“Y/N? I’m home, baby!” Shawn yells through a laugh as Andrew finishes his joke. They’d been so tired they’d stayed another night at the Red Moon Pack and had a few things to go over before parting ways. Manuel was outside talking about changing up patrol units. 

“Y/N?”

“Shawn,” Andrew says softly. “Listen.”

Shawn wasn’t sure how he hadn’t heard it at first. With supersonic hearing, your erratic heartbeat and gasping breaths were as clear as day. 

“Get my mom.”

Shawn takes the stairs two at a time as he follows the sound to your bedroom and slows to a stop outside. So close to you, he could hear the shuffle of your socked feet against the throw rug at the foot of the bed and carefully opens the door, afraid to spook you. 

Hands on your cheeks force your head up from between your knees and you feel the coldness of Shawn’s feather ring on your cheek.

“Babygirl, look at me. What’s wrong?”

You can barely get a word out through your sobs and gasps. “Y-you we-re sup-supposed to c-come h-home last ni-ght an-d you did-n’t. W-when you didn’t c-call or t-text, I-I though-t some-thing hap-happened.”

Shawn wipes your tears away but more fall right after. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. My phone was dead last night and it didn’t charge but I didn’t think anything of it. I’m sorry, baby.”

You nod and bury your head in Shawn’s shoulder. Though he was safe and with you, the panic in your chest wouldn’t ease. 

Shawn hears your heartbeat speed up and grasps your upper arms. “Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“She’s having a panic attack, Shawn.” Karen enters the room with a glass of water and a cup of steaming tea, placing them on the nightstand. “You just need to remain calm and comfort her.”

Shawn nods and scoops you into his lap, and you turn into him. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead and temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you he’s okay and safe, and that you are too. 

Shawn peeks up at his mom, silently questioning if that was what he was supposed to do. Nothing like this has ever happened before in the pack, at least when he was around. Karen nods, giving him a thumbs up. Smiling, Shawn turns back to you, holding you tighter and closer, focusing on your even heartbeat. 

Underneath your hand, Shawn’s torso vibrates and you look up in shock. “Shawn,” you sniffle. “Are you…purring?”

He blushes. “Yeah. We don’t just do it when we feel pleasure, but empathy as well. And I’m sorry, baby. I should have used my head and called you from Andrew’s or my dad’s phone. I knew I was safe and didn’t think about you would be feeling. But I know that if you’re only twenty minutes late, I begin to worry. I can only imagine what you were going through.” 

“Some tea and a warm washcloth will help, Shawn. I’m going to get breakfast started for you guys downstairs.”

“Thanks, Mom.” 

Karen kisses Shawn’s cheek before smoothing your hair down and kissing your temple. The click of the door is the only indication that she’s left the room. 

“Do you want the tea?”

You shake your head. “I’ll take that facecloth, though.”

Shawn pecks your lips and slips out from underneath you. “You got it, babygirl.”

The water runs and you close your eyes, wiping your cheeks. 

The wet cloth splatters on your face and you grunt. “Shawn!”

You flatten the facecloth against your fave, loving the warmth only for it to be crumpled seconds later. 

“Shawn, what the-“ You peel the cloth off your face only to see a four-legged creature instead of your two-legged mate. 

Chocolate fur shifts as the wolf steps forward, sniffing your face, and honey-gold eyes carefully analyze you. 

Nimbly, the wolf jumps passed you and onto the bed. It burrows into the mound of pillows, rubbing itself on the soft duvet cover. When it’s done, it’s fur messed up, it looks at you expectantly and you smile. 

Though you were not a werewolf and did not have a wolf inside of you, you were just as drawn to Shawn’s wolf as you were to Shawn. 

Pulling the throw blanket over your body, you bury your face in Shawn’s fur, moving to peck his forehead when he purrs again. 

“Thank you, Shawn. I love you.”

The wolf shifts beneath you and its cold nose brushes your cheek. When you wake up, it’s dark out and you’re curled into Shawn’s naked chest, the blanket covering his lower half. 

[palmt0p-tiger]

I've had acne since I hit puberty in 4th grade. It was just a part of me, as it was to many of the kids my age. I didn't feel like it was necessary to hide it because at the time I didn't know society saw it as "ugly."

In 6th grade, my cousin asked me why I had bumps all over my face. To which I just stared at her confused. The insecurity began.

I chopped my hair into bangs to hide the bumps on my forehead and then covered the smaller spots on my cheeks with makeup. The first steps toward dependency.

In seventh grade my mom gave me proactiv.

In eighth grade my mom said I had to go to a dermatologist. She gave me topicals and creams that helped for a couple months, but then started burning. I thought that meant it was working.

By the time I was in high school, it seemed like every other girl's skin cleared, while mine was getting worse.

Makeup became a necessity. I wouldn't leave the house without it caked on my face. If I woke up late for school and didn't have enough time to apply it, I'd fake being sick so I wouldn't have to go.

My mom would constantly remind me how awful my skin was whenever she saw my bare face so I started to live in foundation/concealer. I'd wash my face at night then immediately run to my room so she didn't have time to look at me.

At sleepovers, I would sleep in my makeup because I was so ashamed of my skin.

My dermatologist would switch up my pills and creams, but nothing ever seemed to help for longer than a month or two.

Finally within the first month of being at college, my skin almost completely cleared and I confidently went without makeup for the first time since elementary school. I thought I was finally free, but alas.

I wasn't.

It flared up again and by the end of my third semester, I had huge painful bumps all over my face. Makeup could barely even hide my insecurity anymore and it was worse than I ever had to deal with.

A "friend" called me pizza face.

It destroyed my mood. Hiding in my dorm became my only solace. I'd skip class and avoid the cafeteria even if it meant starving.

It controlled my life.

My dermatologist closed recently and I took my skin problems into my own hands. It isn't perfect, but it's clearer than it's been in two years. I have dark spots from previous bumps, but they're fading.

I still have bad days, but overall I'm happy with my skin.

It's hard to believe that something so insignificant and hard to control has such a huge impact on my confidence. Physical appeal doesn't determine your worth and I'm finally starting to realize that.